Here's the rest of the night. I swear, you people are so frickin' stingy with the reviews. What's an author to do?

She told him she was listening, so that's what she did. Aidy didn't say a word for over an hour as David laid his life story at her feet. His father, Jack McNorris, the fixer, the man who had taught David everything he knew about being a poor excuse for a father, husband, human being. His poor, sainted mother who took it all - the boozing, the violence, the infidelity - as her due. His own struggle with alcohol and his decision to go into criminal law as (at least in part) a big fuck you to old Jack that didn't work out quite as he'd hoped.

The more he spoke - his voice sometimes angry, sometimes guilty, always sad - the less Aidy wanted to hear, but the more she knew he needed to say. So, she listened. She could feel that connection she'd tried to deny strengthening withy every word, feel herself opening to the injured man before her.

And then he dropped a bomb on her. Had he started his tale with his selfish and reprehensible acts that day, it would not have mattered to the girl if Damaged Dave had been raped by the entire varsity football team while the cheerleaders watched. She would have walked right out on him.

She felt like she'd been conned. He'd drawn her in, baring his soul, making her care. Then, only after he'd secured her loyalty, did he reveal just what she'd gotten herself into.

Shut up! she wanted to scream. Just shut up! You disgusting waste of skin! She wanted to pull away, being so close to him made her skin crawl, her stomach turn. At the very least, she wanted to look away. She could not hear him say these things, know that he was such a lowly creature, but look at him and see the genuine tears that trailed down his far too pale skin and feel… empathy. Empathy, yes, because there was no way she could possibly be feeling forgiveness. Not for this thing seated before her.

Leave. Move. Look away. She wanted these things, but denied herself even the small measure of release and relief an averted gaze would provide, for the bare and undeniable fact that the man needed her. As surely as he needed breath. Perhaps, had she been a lesser woman or had not been damaged herself, she could have ignored the painfully new bond between them. Not for the first time in her life, Adeliene Creed dearly wished she were that lesser woman. The one who lacked the fierce strength and determination that held her in place now, brown eyes locked on his pathetic blue.

When he finished off the sordid tale with his drunken attack on Ron Burman in his entry hall, Aidy felt no renewed twinge of panic. She was now certain that David, regardless of alcohol, would never lay a finger on any woman. The betrayal that burned in her chest would not allow that realization to count as a point in his favor. Not yet.

"So, I drove off and stopped in front of Andrea's and proceeded to drink myself even stupider," he recounted ashamedly, with a quiet, pitiful sniffle. Aidy waited for him to continue for a moment before she realized that he was waiting for her to speak. Or, from the expression of grim acceptance in those red-rimmed, still teary eyes, for her to leave. What a perfect opportunity, a door left wide open - again - for her to make her escape through.

"Is that when you broke the window?" she asked instead, pushing him forward. For a moment, the blonde only stared. When he finally did speak, his voice was markedly softer; his words sounding like he had to carefully form and force each one around an object in his throat.

"I wasn't thinking clearly, but I remember not wanting to wake her." Aidy chose not to remind him that he'd mentioned this fact at least twice before now. "It didn't occur to me that I would have to wake her to talk to her."

"What did you need to tell her so badly?" the girl asked.

"This," he told her, with a small, encompassing wave of his hand. "I needed her to know. I needed her to-"

He broke off sharply, pressing those rosy lips together until they formed a thin, bloodless line.

"Forgive you?" she supplied, barely suppressing the disgust she wanted to soak the word in. The idea seemed to injure the man. He flinched as though something sharp had jabbed him in the chest.

"No," he whispered hoarsely. "To condemn me."

The girl would have pursued that statement, but she could literally see McNorris backing away from the unvarnished truth of what he'd just said. Aidy understood then that this was the first time he'd ever been so honest with himself about his motives. And it terrified him. The blonde ran one beefy hand over his face and leaned forward abruptly. Adeliene was faster though, and had snatched the half empty bottle away before he had any hope of reaching it.

David fell back against the couch bonelessly in defeat and scrubbed the hand across his face again.

"Did she give you what you wanted?" the lab tech prodded.

"No," the DDA responded, hand now resting over his eyes. "It just made things worse. Like always. So, I came home and I told Marian everything. And now I really am I one man show."

"What?"

The hand that covered his eyes slid up and back, brushing over his short blonde hair and coming to rest behind his head. He sniffed once and gave her a ghost of a rueful smile.

"Marian said that marrying me was becoming part of the David McNorris Show. Apparently, I was the most thrilling adventure she could imagine. But she didn't know it was a one man show. No room for supporting cast."

They gazed at each other for a moment. Adeliene knew he expected her to say something now. He expected her to follow in his wife's footsteps. Instead, she only shrugged. She couldn't attack him and she wouldn't comfort him, so she said nothing. He sniffed again and heaved a sigh - relief or disappointment she couldn't tell - and closed his eyes against her neutral, but unwavering stare.

Aidy heard a bird chirping and glanced at the window. Her stomach tightened in a familiar uncomfortable way when she saw the gray world beyond the McNorris living room. The sky was lightning and soon dawn would swoop down on them.

David began to snore softly and the girl's brown eyes snapped back to his face. For an instant she was shocked and outraged that he had fallen asleep and almost shook him awake. But reason won out over the infantile anger at his dozing off. She was upset, yes, and had every right to be after all he'd told her, but he was the one whose life had crumbled apart in less than twenty four hours. A stab of pity both softened and irritated her.

Aidy mimicked his earlier motion and scrubbed a hand over her face. She moved to stand, only then realizing that David's left hand was clasped in her own. She stared at their joined hands, trying to remember just when that had happened. How long had they been grasping each other? Long enough that her knuckles felt stiff when she slid her fingers away from his.

She stood and stretched, hearing the joints snap and pop. A decorative afghan was draped over the back of the couch and the girl tugged it down, spreading it over the sleeping man before her. Then, she left him. She needed to get away, needed to think. So, she headed for the kitchen. Her grumbly stomach tried to convince her it was hungry, but Adeliene knew that it was a lie. Eating before ten AM was never a good idea. She opened the fridge and gazed blankly at the contents. Soda, purple stuff, Sunny D… Milk, that would work. After three tries, the tech managed to find the right cabinet for glasses and poured one full of the McNorris's milk. As she drank, the things David had told her began to rearrange and organize themselves in her mind. She examined each one carefully before filing it away.

All of the shit he'd told her he had done made her want to beat him senseless, but the obvious regret he had dulled the sharp edge of her disdain. Her mind was already rationalizing his deplorable behavior the day before. The girl was already dead and this is L.A.. The Burman kid would probably have gotten off light even without McNorris's actions. That doesn't make it right! No, it didn't make it right, but it was true. And there was the small fact that the boy had not committed the crime. But David didn't know that. No, he didn't. He'd certainly lucked out on that score. It was like the powers that be had been testing him with a hard choice, but had provided a safety net should he fail. Which he did. Big time.

Taking her glass with her, Aidy began to wander the McNorris residence with complete autonomy. She looked over a collection of framed photos on a small table by the front door. David and Marian's wedding photo. David and the DA. David and the chief of police. David, Marian, and some politician. David and Marian dressed to the nines at some L.A. big wig's party. Aidy began to notice a theme. She wandered down the hall and peered into the first room. Obviously Marian's domain, there was a daybed with a flouncy dust ruffle that made the girl want to gag. This was where Marian did whatever it was the woman did.

The second room screamed of David. Dark wood desk faced one wall, small filing cabinets, a big overstuffed leather arm chair. Framed news paper clippings of various sporting events adorned the walls, but nothing less than ten years old. A number of files sat on the desk, waiting for David's attention. Aidy took it in and made her way back to the living room.

David's head had lolled to the side slightly, his mouth open just a fraction so he no longer snored. His pale eyelashes rested softly against cheeks that were still a bit flushed from the long night of weeping. Aidy had begun to understand just what David's life consisted of. At first glance an observer would take in his high profile occupation, his passionate wife, his younger mistress, and his known-secret vice and take it all at face value as a very full and exciting. Aidy was never one to take things at face value. She looked at the same image and saw that David's world was very small and was suffocating him.

All the pictures in the house were of David and Marian. No friends, no relatives, no children. Aside from stepping into the ring twice a week, the man's life consisted of his wife and his job. The way David said Marian had described him and their marriage as the David McNorris Show left the girl wondering just what, if anything, the woman really knew about her husband. Had David told Marian all that he had told Aidy tonight about his father? Had the woman listened? Did she even care?

The girl understood now that the affair with Andrea Norton had not been about sex, but escape. David needed release from his life, from himself. She didn't even have to wonder if Andrea knew the things she, Aidy, knew. Of course, David would have told her all of it, as he had rushed to tell her about Burman tonight. He wanted her to see his misdeeds and condemn him, but what he didn't know was that he was actually seeking out acceptance. His soul was crying for someone to tell him he was not the awful man he'd feared he would become, that he was not his father. Andrea had her own agenda with the affair, though, that was obvious, and never gave the blonde what he wanted or needed. She was in it for herself.

David McNorris had lost a great deal of Adeliene's respect tonight, maybe all of it, but he had secured her allegiance. She knew she couldn't turn her back on him, not now, probably not ever. The girl had not felt this unbreakable bond since Lisa. Lisa Menossi, the best friend Aidy had ever had; the most wonderful person to ever enter her life. She swallowed the lump in her throat ruthlessly, before it could dissolve into tears. This was not the time or place to dwell on such things. The only way she could force back the memories - now that they had been loosed - was with the promise that she would return to them later.

David's arms drew up under the afghan and clutched together before his chest. It was then that Aidy remembered his wet clothes. She gazed at his sleeping form for a moment, deciding just what to do, before moving to action. Firstly, she brought her empty milk glass back to the kitchen and placed it in the sink. Turning back to the refrigerator, she snatched a bottle of water from the case resting on top of the appliance. One her way back through the living room, the girl left the bottle on the coffee table. She made her way to the master bedroom. Here was a room that was very David, though Marian had tried to cover it with frou frou wallpaper and another frilly dust ruffle.

The furnishings were large, made of rich dark wood. The bed was large and inviting. A lovely armoire stood in the corner beside the door leading into the master bath. Aidy went to it and quickly found what she was looking for. Carrying the clothes with her, along with a pillow she snatched off the bed, she went back down the hall. The linen closet was beside the bathroom and the girl obtained a blanket. Her arms full, she went back into the living room, depositing her wares in one of the uncomfortable chairs. Then, she gently shook David's shoulder. He came awake with a start, but his eyes were bleary when he gazed at her. He was obviously exhausted. She opened the water and pressed it into his hand.

"Drink this," she ordered quietly. She knew he would have a hang over in the morning, there was no way to avoid it with the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, but at least she could help with the dehydration part of it. He immediately did as she told him. As David tipped back the plastic bottle, she sat again on the coffee table and pulled away the afghan. The girl quickly began to unbutton the lavender shirt that was still slightly damp and cool to the touch. David stopped drinking and watched her fingers quizzically.

"Are we gonna have sex now?" the man asked, in a confused tone that was so child-like she could not help but find it sweetly amusing, despite the subject of the question.

"No, David," she told him gently.

"Good."

She felt herself smile over that, not feeling insulted in the least. "Finish your water." Again, he immediately complied. Aidy freed his remaining wrist from the shirt cuff and pulled him forward slightly so he was sitting away from the couch back. She pushed the cold fabric off his shoulder and he pulled his arm out of the sleeve. She took the now empty water bottle and he finished shrugging off the shirt. David was wearing a white undershirt that was wetter than the dress shirt he'd had over it. It clung to his form like a second skin.

"Take that off," the girl told him, getting up and moving to gather the things she'd placed in the chair before hand. David managed to get the shirt halfway off before it bunched and snagged about his upper chest. Rolling her eyes, she helped the exhausted man free himself. David's physique wasn't ripped or cut, but he was thick and solid, with just the barest hint of softening around his middle that belied his age. His skin was smooth and taut, and cold to the touch at the moment. His chest was sprinkled with hair several shades darker than that on his head, which was soft when it brushed Aidy's knuckles as she helped him undress. It formed a V to his stomach, then a line under his navel, disappearing into his black slacks. Which were also damp to the touch.

Adeliene pulled a black, long sleeved night shirt from the stack and shook it open. "Arms up," she told the man before her, as though she were dressing a child. As she pulled the top down over his head, she realized the idea was sound. David very resembled a sleepy child at this point. He sighed softly in pleasure at the dry cloth over his chilled skin. Aidy made quick work of David's shoes and socks, his feet felt like ice when her fingers brushed against them. Had she known where the thermostat was, Aidy would have turned the AC to a warmer setting, but she had, as yet, been unable to locate it.

Taking the man's arm, Aidy pulled him unsteadily to his feet and started working on his belt buckle. The dampened leather of the belt was proving annoying to work with. David's fingers getting in her way as he tried to help were annoying as well and she pushed them aside. Finally working the tongue out of the buckle, Aidy unbuttoned and unzipped the slacks, and they fell around the man's ankles of their own accord. She shook her head at the realization that she had not asked whether he was wearing anything under them, but, fortunately, he had on a pair of pale blue boxers. Damp or no, those were staying right where they were.

The cotton pajama bottoms proved more of a problem to get onto a half asleep man than the shirt had, but she managed eventually. David all but fell back to the couch when she let him go. She propped the pillow up against the arm rest and encouraged the blonde to lay on his side. He complied with a little moan of relief and snuggled down into the cushions, nuzzling against the pillow until he was comfortable. Again, Aidy found herself smiling over the child-like sweetness of the action and spread the blanket over him. She caught herself before running her fingers through the short cropped hair. He might look sweet, but McNorris still had a lot to answer for and she could not just forget the things he had done, regardless of what had pushed him into doing them. Not yet.

Adeliene moved away, and sat in one of the foofy chairs, which wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as it looked. She watched the man sleep for a few minutes, contemplating whether or not she should leave. She had no idea how he would act once he awoke. He might want to talk more. He might want her to get the hell out of his house. But if she left now, there was the possibility he would take that as a rejection. He might see it as her sneaking away. So, she decided to stay and see just what he would say when he woke up and realized what had happened between them the night before.

She found the remote control resting on top of the entertainment center and flicked on the TV, muting the volume, but turning on the closed captioning. She flipped through the channels, not surprised at all to find that the McNorris's had the full cable package, despite having heard David mention in passing that he did not watch TV. She found House playing on one of the Turner channels and settled in to watch, as the sun began to peek out over the horizon and bathe the world in pale orange light.