I posted a chapter prior to this a while back, but the site failed to sent out alerts for any updates. If you haven't read chapter twenty, read it before reading this. Or you'll be lost going forward.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

– – –

"Shane." Carol sprung off the couch to tell him the news. "I'm so glad you're home. I've been trying to get a hold of you all day, but you're here now, so that's all that matters. So, I—"

"I need to talk to you," he interrupted. "It'd easier if you just listen to what I have to say."

"Okay." She folded her arms. "My news is pretty important too. Maybe I should go first."

"Carol, please."

"All right." She sat down. "Go ahead."

"I think we should end this." He said it flatly, like when he told guys not to hit on her, or when he was talking to a perp, or when he was talking to his family when they were bugging him and Carol about grandchildren. He said it like it bugged him, as though their entire relationship had cause him such agony, as though he didn't love her, as though they hadn't just made love last night. He just...said it.

"W—what?" Her eyes began to pool with tears. "Why?"

"I just think it's time, you know? I don't...want to be with you anymore. I know it seems out of the blue, but I've felt this way for a couple weeks now. I just don't see how this is gonna work."

"Shane."

"Don't get so emotional. You had to have seen this coming, too. I mean, come on, Carol. It's been like a elephant in the room for weeks now. Things just...ain't the same, ain't as good as they used to be."

"So last night was...what? Just for kicks?"

"Last night was just proof it ain't the same."

She stared. "You can't be serious."

"Why would I joke about this?"

She rolled her bottom lip into between her teeth and tried to settle herself, closing her eyes and buried her face in her hand.

"I'll come back for my things, but...that's it. This relationship has run it's course, and I'm sorry to admit I just don't feel love for you anymore. I know it's difficult for you to hear, but it's the truth." He set his hands on his hips. "We shouldn't be in contact anymore either. I think a clean break is best for you. You're obviously upset, and I don't...want to make this harder on you."

She heard him moving and shot up. "Wait. Wait, Shane, just wait."

"I've waited long enough."

That stopped her cold, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "Wha...what?"

"Just... Goodbye, Carol." He closed the door without a second look back.

Carol stood there completely still, her lips parted, and hot tears ran cold on her chin. "I'm not pregnant...if you care, which you obviously don't...anymore. Or maybe you never did..." It wouldn't be the first or second or even third time someone hadn't cared about her.

"Carol." Tara hugged her tightly. "I'm so sorry."

She crumbled. "What just happened?"

Tara didn't want to list off all the ways Shane was a fucking asshole, so she only held her roommate, her partner, her best friend. It was all she could do as Carol sobbed her eyes out, and she hoped that if Shane ever tried to come into her like, Tara was there. She'd deck the shit out of him. Motherfucker.

– – –

Carol sighed and looked over at the man sleeping soundlessly beside her, his chest rising and falling, and she was sinking, sinking into guilt. She slipped out of bed, pushing messy hair out of her face, and she wrapped herself in a spare blanket at the end of the bed, shivering at the cold air that enveloped her. She trudged out of the bedroom and into the living room, the moonlight pooling in through the large windows, and she sighed again, hating herself.

It'd been days since that kiss. That familiar, soft, loving kiss. She could still remember how it felt on her lips, on her neck, on her collarbone, tracing the curves of her jaw. She could remember how his tongue would slip through and taste her flesh, teeth nibbling the sensitive skin around her belly button. He left no inch of her skin unkissed by the time they were done. Every inch of her body had felt his lips and his hands.

She closed her eyes and tried to burn the memories out of her head, but they were so fresh, so raw. There was no way she could chase them off so easily. She wished to God she could. She wished she could just be with Daryl and care about him and have it be simple. She wished she wasn't so attached to the past, to a man with whom she shared everything. She wanted to let it all go. She thought she had, but clearly she hadn't. If what happened between them was any hint, she really hadn't.

"Hey, what're you doin' up?"

She looked over at him, his hair all messy, his eyes glazed from just waking, and he looked so adorable. Her heart ached at the sight of him. "Couldn't sleep. Uh, bad dream."

He walked over to the kitchen and began to prepare something.

"What are you doing?" She hugged the blanket tighter, observing him as he pulled out a carton of milk and some type of spice.

"Just hang on." It was said laughingly, like he was being amused by an impatient child.

"Okay."

She waited while he finished preparing whatever it was he was making, and he brought over a steaming cup of the finished product. It was a warm milk with cinnamon and honey, and he'd even made himself a cup, though he didn't need it. He was worn out from what happened just hours ago. His body ached, his back was killing him. He felt older than he was, but he'd get used to it. It'd been a while, so he hoped that was what was wrong.

She reached out and blew on the steaming milk, taking a sip and wincing. "Ow."

"Hang on." He went to the fridge and pulled out an ice cube. "Here."

She parted her lips, he slipped it into her mouth, and he kissed her once it was through, surprising her. She smiled and nearly choked on the ice. She rubbed her tongue against it, soothing the throbbing burn, and he stuck her mug in the freezer for a bit, letting her chew on the ice. Once she'd swallowed it down, he pulled the now lukewarm mug out and handed it over.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He polished off his milk. "I'm ready to drop like a sack of potatoes. How about you?"

She giggled. "Not just yet. I'll meet you back in there."

"Is it the bed? 'Cause it's your first time staying over?" He chuckled softly. "Well, staying over on the actual bed, anyway."

"Maybe. I've only ever been in my bed." And Shane's. "I'm a little...wired too."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No, you're sweet, but you're exhausted. Go to bed. I'll be in there soon."

"Are you sure? If you had a nightmare—"

"Your credit as my boyfriend will not fall. You're...great, Daryl. Really, really great." She smiled at him. "I just need to clear my head is all."

He nodded and kissed her forehead. "Drink up. It helps."

"Thanks." She watched him stumble back to his bedroom, and she felt guilt sink even deeper into her heart. She touched her lips, lips that days ago had met another set that weren't Daryl, that were all too familiar, who brought up too many alarming questions. She was scared about the answers, to be honest. She didn't know what to expect, but she'd have to face the music. As soon as the sun had risen, she would face the music. She had to tell him. He deserved to know what a cheating whore his ex-girlfriend was.

She buried her face in her hand and groaned soundless. She hated the thought of being his ex. She liked him so much. She liked being his girlfriend. She liked how gentle and sweet he was. She was going to miss it. There was no way he'd take this lightly. How could anybody? She didn't kiss him back, but...she didn't pull away either, so...she might as well have. She didn't even know how to feel about the kiss. She was stuck on stupid, and it was awful. Spending the night at Daryl's, just sleeping beside him, only made her feel worse. He was too good of a guy to be with a slut like her.

She slowly drank her milk and set the empty cup in the sink by his, slinking to the bedroom. She didn't feel right sleeping next to him, so she curled up on the loveseat in the corner. He threw his clothes there when he got home, but it just made it more comfortable. It smelled like him too, and she found herself drifting off.

– – –

Rosita woke up and found Tara asleep beside her, and she smiled, carefully reaching over and pushing hair aside to reveal her face. They had been so tired after reading all that fan mail and eating that they'd just passed out at her place. She hoped Carol didn't ask why they were spending so much time together, because she didn't know how to answer. Carol was smart, and she could root out a lie like no other. Rosita figured it had to do with her childhood, with her father and mother.

Rosita could never understand a man like Ed Peletier. He wasn't a man. He wasn't even a human being. He was a worm. When you have a child with someone you married, that child should come first, should be showered with so much love it can hardly breathe, so when the bad times came as they always did, you had this force of unconditional love. It wouldn't fill stomachs or reduce stress; it wouldn't put shoes on your feet or new clothes on your body, but it meant you were alone. You had something—someone—to fight for, to improve for. That was what parenthood and family meant, what they were supposed to mean. That was what it meant in her family.

She weaved her fingers through Tara's hair, watching her sleeping face, and she leaned over, placing a kiss to her forehead. She slipped out of bed and dressed in her weekend clothes, despite it being the middle of the week, and she gathered her hair up into a ponytail. She tiptoed to the kitchen and pulled out untouched skillet she'd gotten as a housewarming gift form Boss. She tapped her fingernails on the door to her fridge and pulled it open, grinning at the sight of having everything she needed.

She had come around to the idea of the fan mail, and she'd even written a couple of the kids back. She had taken the bins home with her, and she'd given the candy to her many cousins, because she didn't need that much chocolate. She did keep a few of the stuffed animals and let Tara have the caramel pecan nut clusters. She couldn't say no after Tara had "sampled" all of Carol's nut clusters and begged silently for hers. She didn't mind sharing. Chocolate, anyway.

She stirred her batter and tightened her grip on the wooden spoon she had. After Abraham, she hated the idea of sharing someone. She knew you couldn't share someone like a candy bar, but she liked being with one person, and that one person being with her. She didn't really do relationships, but she would never do an open relationship. She especially hated those types of relationships. It wasn't even a relationship to her. It was just...a continuous fling. Other people can like it, love it, do it—good for them. For her, it wasn't...an option. No relationship was really. At least...

She blew out a sight at where that thought was heading and grabbed her i-Pod off the bookshelf, shoving in earbuds to listen to music instead of drowning in her thoughts. She just wanted to make breakfast. Those thoughts could be saved for when she'd a cup of coffee and...maybe a talk with Tara. Or her mom. She didn't know how'd she feel about this, but oh well. It couldn't be helped, and as corny as it was...the heart wanted what the heart wanted, and right now...that was to make crepes for her sleepy...Tara. Yeah, that's exactly what she wanted.

Meanwhile in the bedroom, Tara opened her eyes and drew in a long, sleepy breath. She saw the spot beside her was empty, and she reached over, feeling slight warmth there. She was too tired to call out to Rosita or to crawl out of bed to find her, so she closed her eyes and tried to wake herself up a little. She wasn't feeling it. She wanted to sleep for the next ten hours, but they did have to work today. It was a Wednesday. She hated Wednesdays. The week was nearly over, but not quite over.

Although this Wednesday was different. It was the second Wednesday of November, and it was also the second month she and Rosita had been in this not-quite-a-relationship relationship. She hadn't meant to keep track, but she had been home when Carol was looking over the credit card bill. She mentioned when she bought her Plan B. Tara's brain instantly did the math, and Tara wasn't sure if she should mention it to Rosita or not. She had a feeling she shouldn't. She might think Tara wanted to celebrate or do something to mark the day. She didn't want to. She just wanted... Well, more sleep or a nice cup of coffee. Oh, and for it not to be Wednesday. That would be great too. She could have relived that last weekend forever. She honestly had no desire to step into work. She didn't want to leave this bed, let alone this apartment.

She would, though. She needed to go home and shower and change. And to just be in her own apartment again. She hadn't seen her own bed in what felt like weeks. She was helping Rosita go through the latest batch of fan mail. It was beginning to die down. A lot was still being sent in, but not as much as the first week. Rosita seemed grateful for it. Tara was just happy to not have to open anymore letters. She had to go out and buy a letter opener for all these letters. She was sick of the paper cuts. She might have to send Aaron over to help Rosita with the fan mail. She was over it. She loved Rosita and all the praise she was getting, but she was over it. She didn't want to open her own bills now. Eech.

She curled her arm back to her chest and checked the clock on her phone. She didn't have any messages. Carol must have gone out with Daryl. She honestly had no clue if that was the case or not. She hadn't really spoken to Carol in weeks. Carol made herself scarce at the office, traveling alone most of the time, and Tara was rarely home to monitor her behavior there. She had a feeling it had to do with Manuel's surprise visit two weeks ago before he left town for good. She wondered if Carol blamed her for that drop in. She did supply him with information, but she was just trying to help him say goodbye to a friend. And Tara knew that now. They were just friends. Well, maybe not anymore, given how she was acting.

Tara needed to talk to her about that. Maybe they could go out for dinner. They could have some margaritas and just kick back and relax. They could talk about things, about their relationship, and how things are with goings on the job and off. She wanted to reconnect with her best friend. She felt like so much had come between them since the whole bomb and near death incident, since the whole Morales thing. She wanted to know what. She wanted to know what had happened. Carol had been cleared for the shooting, but she wasn't happy about it. She was miserable. Tara had to know why, so she could help. Carol was a hero, but she was acing like she was the crook, not Morales.

Tara heard a soft sizzle and her thoughts vanished. Rosita was cooking? Her eyes widened. Rosita could cook? Well, she knew she could cook, but they mostly ate out. Or Tara made something. Rosita was cooking? Right now? In her own kitchen? Was someone forcing her to cook? Tara felt very worried now. From what she'd gathered from Rosita over the past years, she didn't cook unless her hand was forced. Say, her mom and dad dropped by unannounced, and she had to whip up food while some one night stand slipped out the fire escape.

It was strange that she would be cooking right now. Tara hadn't seen her so much as lift a finger to turn on the stove. She'd seen her store empty pizza boxes in the oven until she took out her trash, but never once cook in there. Tara usually had to start the meal, and Rosita would help out, but that was mainly Tara cooking. She didn't know what had bitten Rosita, but she was curious to find out. She had to see this in person, maybe take a photo and show Carol...

Only she couldn't show Carol. She'd have to explain why she was over here this early in the morning. She couldn't explain that to her, because their relationship was a secret. It still made her ache to know nobody knew they were together, to know people still hit on Rosita and even her now and then, because they were just seen as best friends. They were still seen in the same group they'd always been seen in since their rookie days, and they weren't. They were closer. They were happier. They were stronger. They were better people, improving each other in ways they didn't know they needed improvement in. It was all hush hush, kept in the dark, because Rosita wasn't ready to take that next step. Tara didn't want to push, but she felt like she losing.

Losing her relationship with her best friend since what felt like forever and losing her relationship with her not exactly girlfriend. The closer they got, the more distance there was between her and Carol. Hell, among her and Glenn and Aaron, too. She was proud of their relationship, of how far they'd come since that first time, but she was disconnecting with her team to make progress. She didn't know them half as well as she used to, and she rarely hung out with them at Jones'. She was always working or going out with Rosita or staying over at Rosita's. They couldn't stay at Tara's, because Carol might come home and catch them. Like they were having an affair, like it was wrong and shameful...

She sighed softly and lied back down. She knew Rosita had to take this at her own pace. That was part of the deal when Tara put sex on the table. She knew she would have this conflicting emotions at one point, but she didn't know how bittersweet they would make everything seem.

"You're awake."

She shot back up to find Rosita holding two cups of coffee. "Yeah, I just woke up a minute ago."

"Here." She held out cups to her, and Tara accepted them. "I'll be right back."

Tara set the cups down on the nightstand beside her and brushed hair out of her face, and she stretched her arms. Her eyes fell on the plates Rosita was carrying, and she nearly scoffed in disbelief. There on the plates were perfectly prepared crepes, filled with fruit and whipped cream, glazed in what appeared to be chocolate. They were so pretty, but at the growl Tara's stomach released, they weren't too pretty to be devoured.

Rosita watched Tara take her first bite, and she smiled at the confusion in her eyes. It was the type of confusion that was good. Like, hey, you could cook this entire time and you didn't say anything to me type of confusion. She was happy Tara enjoyed the crepes. She would have to remember it for another time. She didn't like to cook for just anyone, but she wanted to cook for Tara. She was...really glad to have her here.

"So, how long have you been able to cook?"

"Always. I just don't always feel like it." She dipped a chopped up strawberry into the chocolate sauce. "I used to make my lunches the first year in homicide. You don't remember that?"

"I was too busy trying to adjust to everything."

"It took an entire year to do that?"

"I'd just accomplished a life goal. I was soaking it in. I still do now and then." She met Rosita's eyes. "A lot's happened since I joined the force. A lot that I hate, a lot that I can't believe has pushed down to the cold unit, and a lot that...I'm grateful for. I work with great people who I love, and Boss is pretty cool for a boss." And then there's you...who came into my life and turned it completely upside down with friendship, and now you and I are in a relationship that has thrown that upside down world into the most wonderful chaos...

Rosita studied her, feeling as though she had more to say, but she only ate more of her breakfast. She cleared her throat. "So, why won't we go out tonight? You, me and Carol? We haven't gone out just the three of us in so long."

"Yeah, that'd be great." She grinned. "We can either go to the club or stop by Jones'."

"But let's not get totally wasted. We do have to get back to work. It's only Wednesday."

"It's not my fault we all drank our asses off at the Halloween party."

"You put booze out as food."

"Well, nobody could decide on chips and dip or pizza or anything, so I went with wine, beer and jello shots. And also chips and dip."

"You're lucky Carol ordered some party platters and Maggie made some cupcakes."

"I know I am." She dropped her eyes to her plate. "To have you...in my life, I'm pretty lucky."

Rosita blinked. "Tara..."

She leaned over and kissed her. "Thanks for cooking for me. And good morning. I don't think I said that."

"Well, it's almost noon now."

"Well, good afternoon then."

Rosita smiled somewhat. "Good afternoon." She scrapped her fork over her remaining crepe and peeked at Tara, her smile widening. "I'm...glad you're here."

"So you keep telling me. I'm great company. I know."

"I mean it."

"I know you do." Tara met her eyes. "I'm glad to be here."

– – –

Carol tied the drawstring to her sweatpants that night, thinking over the details of their current case, or trying to. She was really thinking more on that kiss between her and Shane two weeks ago. She kept replaying it in her head and the guilt only ate at her. She didn't enjoy it. In fact all that kiss proved was she had moved on, her heart and attraction and affection were with someone else, and what she felt for Shane was in the past. She could truly move forward now, but not until she told Daryl what happened between her and her ex.

Daryl was in the living room, fiddling with the remote as Carol changed out of her work clothes, and he didn't know why she had invited him over. They had spent last night together, although he woke up to a note. She had to leave for work. He was happy to spend time with her, but he didn't like the tone in her voice when she invited him over. He was worried about her and about what could have happened at work. She was held hostage a couple weeks ago, and he didn't want to find out she'd been shot or worse. Well, grazed. Obvious had she been shot, she'd be in the hospital. Also would be in the hospital if worse had occurred.

Carol stepped out of her bedroom, and Daryl shot up. She smiled a little. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Nah, it's all right. I was just about to turn on the TV." He tossed the remote onto the couch and saw tears fill her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You're probably going to hate me. I hate myself." She knotted her fingers together, biting her bottom lip.

"I doubt I'll hate you."

She inhaled. "I went to a friend's house a couple weeks ago. Uh, she's like a mom to me. I love her a lot. She sent me an email, asking me over, so I went. And...you should know this friend, this mom figure, is Shane's aunt."

"Shane? As in your ex?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay." He prepared himself this.

"I just... He came over in the middle of us talking, and I didn't know he'd be over. I swear I didn't." She wanted to move closer, but her feet were cemented to the floor. "He pulled me into the bathroom to tell me she's sick. She has Alzheimer's. Anyway, we started to fight after he made a comment that reminded me of our breakup, and I told him it was over, that him trying to fight for us was fruitless. He didn't listen, and...well, he kissed me."

Daryl's throat contracted, and he had to sit down.

"I don't know for how long. I...I was in shock. I left immediately afterward, and I haven't spoken to him since. He's tried to contact me, but I ignore his calls. He hasn't tried to stop by the apartment, but I've been avoiding home." She studied him. "I'm so sorry, Daryl. It didn't mean anything. I swear. It was just a one-sided kiss."

"That took you two weeks to tell me about?"

"I—I'm sorry. I was busy with work, and I didn't know how to tell you. I've never had to do or say anything like this before, and I didn't know how. I'm...not the cheating type. I didn't want you to think of me as a whore. I swear it was one-sided. It didn't mean anything. Please, please..."

Daryl watched her crumble and noted something familiar about it. He stood up and embraced her, her apologizes muffled against his shoulder, and he cradled the back of her head. He knew it meant nothing. She wouldn't be so torn up about it if it meant something, if Daryl meant nothing to her, and she was busy with work. He'd seen her cases in the news, and she'd been pissy about the leaks. He also trusted her. That kiss only meant Shane still had feelings for her, not the other way around, and he'd give Shane a piece of his mind.

"It's all right." He held her at arm's length. "I believe you. You'e not a whore." She lowered her eyes, and he raised her chin. "You're not."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right."

She hugged him and exhaled against his chest. "I'm still sorry."

He chuckled a little. "Okay. Then I accept your apology. It's okay. Please, don't...don't cry." He rubbed her back.

"Okay." She squeezed him. "Thank you."

"Trust me there'll be worse things we'll come across than your possessive ex." He murmured this into her hair, knowing she couldn't hear it, but he didn't know she'd been thinking the same thing. The past would show itself, and it wouldn't be pretty. It rarely was.

A knock on the front door drew their attention, Carol snuffled and rubbed her eyes, moving to answer it, and Daryl peeked around the corner to see who it was. He was curious to know who'd be knocking at her door this late. Tara was already in bed, and they'd eaten dinner already, so who was it?

She pulled the door open without checking the peep hole and found Shane standing there. He always did have shitty timing. "Oh, for the love of God," she muttered.

"What happened?" He took in her puffy, red eyes and reached out to wipe away a stray tear when she moved back. "Carol, what happened?" His eyes then moved to the person behind her. "Who the hell are you?"

"I would ask the same, but I think I already know."

"Did you do this to her?" He barged into the apartment and yanked the stranger up by his shirt collar. "Did you make her cry?"

"Shane, stop!" Carol hurried over to try and push them apartment, but they were was space between them to push through. "Let him go."

"I was right." Daryl grasped Shane's wrists. "You're the ex."

"You're about to be dead. Did you make her cry, you son of a bitch?"

"No, you did." Daryl twisted his wrists and forced Shane to let him go, Carol moved in between them instantly, and Daryl released his wrists to keep from accidentally hurting Carol if Shane made any sudden moves. "Why are you here?"

"To see my... Carol. To see Carol. Why are you here? Do you know what time it is?"

"I was invited. And why are you here at this hour of the night anyway?"

"I already told you." He then stopped addressing the stranger. "Carol, are you all right?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "No thanks to you."

"Is this about that kiss? I'm sorry. I—I shouldn't have made that move. I was just...desperate."

"I don't care what you were, Shane. We're not together. We're certainly not friends. I don't want you here, so just go."

"I just want to talk. In private."

"There's nothing you can't say to me in front of my boyfriend," she emphasized.

Shane's eyes moved once more to the stranger. "Boyfriend. So, you're the guy she's seein'?"

"Yeah, I am. For a few weeks now."

Shane nodded. "Good."

"Why is that good?" Carol narrowed her eyes at him.

"Because you aren't attached to him yet. He's just a rebound guy." He smirked. "I still have some wiggle room."

"No, you don't. There is no room to wiggle. We are over. You made that clear when you ditched you. I thought I was pregnant, and you dumped me without even confirming whether I was or wasn't. You didn't care. You just abandoned me at the first sign of commitment!" She huffed. "You don't get to come here and fight with my boyfriend or me. You don't get to win me back. What you did was disgusting, and I—I hate you for it. I'm still angry about it, but I'm learning to let go. You don't get to come back here and trample over all the progress I've made. When you walked out that was it, Shane. You weren't there for me. You didn't love me. You left me. You just left me, and that was it."

"I had to go undercover," he informed her. "Those guys knew I was a cop, I had to play dirty. I couldn't let them hurt you, but I couldn't tell you I was going under. I couldn't tell anybody."

"Bullshit. I called you. You picked up. I heard a woman in the background, asking for a cork screw."

"That was a fellow officer. She's undercover too, as a prostitute. She was getting me out of there. That was our code phrase. It was the only thing we could think of that didn't seem too out of the ordinary. I was going to be killed that night, but she got me out."

"Really? You think I'm going to buy that?"

"You should, because it's the truth. I was trying to protect you and a child we might have had. I couldn't go under knowing I might lose you and our baby. I know it doesn't make sense now, but it did at the time. I was panicked and overwhelmed. I made the wrong choice. I'm sorry."

"It's late for sorry. Just get out."

"Fine. You need time to cool off, so I'll hang back. Take as much time as you need, but please talk to me. In a month, or two or forty, I don't care. Just talk to me when you're ready."

"Get out," she whispered.

He looked at Daryl. "I'm sorry to you too."

"What for?" Daryl asked.

"For giving you a chance to know this amazing woman but not the chance to keep her. I'm going to fight for you, Carol. I'm not sorry about that kiss. I'm sorry about the situation around it. I shouldn't have kissed you after I told you about my aunt. That was wrong, so was the way I left. I am sorry to have hurt you. It kills me to know I hurt you, but I'm going to make it right. I will."

Carol turned away from him, not replying.

"She asked you to leave," Daryl spoke for her, "so be a decent human being and leave."

"I'll be around." He walked out and closed the door behind him.

Carol slumped against the wall, hugging herself and avoiding eye contact with Daryl. He knew the whole story now, and he knew about her pregnancy scare. She wasn't sure how to speak to him about it right now. Her heading spinning from the news of Shane being undercover, and this Dawn officer. She wasn't positive she knew how to cope with any of this news, and she wanted to curl up in bed and not leave until she had an answer. She couldn't do that, clearly. She was an adult, she had a job and bills to pay. She couldn't act like a teenager. She had to be mature, and she had to deal with this head on. Somehow.

Daryl ran his eyes over Carol and saw she didn't want to talk about it right now. He understood. It was a lot to take in. He learned a lot in the last couple of minutes, and he honestly he wasn't sure what to do with it. Shane was a creep, and he was definitely possessive. He wasn't going to go down without a fight? Good, neither was Daryl. He really like Carol, and she wanted to be with him. Shane needed to get that through his thick skull. Daryl wouldn't try and force the issue with Shane. He didn't want to step on Carol's toes like that. It was her past relationship, and she could handle it, but if she asked him for help, he'd get that asshole off of her back in a hot second.

"What a creep." Tara stood in the hallway.

"Tell me about it." Carol rolled her eyes to try and keep the tears away.

Daryl glanced at Tara, who gave him a nod, and he returned it. "I should go home. I gotta a big day ahead of me tomorrow."

"You don't have to leave." Carol pushed off the wall.

"It ain't 'cause of Shane," he assured her. "I gotta a long work day comin'."

She nodded. "Okay."

He cupped her cheeks and kissed her slowly to let her know they were fine. And they were. He wasn't upset. He wasn't bothered. He was worried about her, but he'd check in with her tomorrow and leave her with her roommate. Tara might know best. "Good night." He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, feeling her smile.

"Good night."

"I'll call you tomorrow."

"I look forward to it."

He kissed her once more and tossed a goodbye at Tara before ducking out, Carol closed the door and locked it, and Tara wrapped her arms around Carol from behind in a hug. Carol gripped Tara's hand, and she asked to sleep with her tonight. She didn't want to be alone.

"Yeah." Tara smiled at her. "We'll go and buy you a new mattress this weekend."

"You buying?"

"I'll pitch in." She patted her shoulder.

"Thanks, Tara. That means so much."

Tara guided her back towards her bedroom, not detecting a single note of sarcasm in her words, and she smiled. "No problem. It's what I'm here for." She rubbed her back and made a mental note to tell Rosita she had plans for this weekend. It might not take two days, but Carol needed someone, and Tara hoped to be that someone. She wanted to be a friend to her, and she wanted to help her through this, and Carol was picky when it came to mattresses. They'd probably spend the entire weekend just trying to find a bed and then next weekend trying to find sheets for it. She might regret this, but it would be worth it. She hoped.

––

Rosita entered the bullpen bright and early that chilly November morning, pulling her gloves off and removing her scarf. She entered the break room to prepare a pot of coffee, spotting a box of donuts Boss had brought in, and she helped herself to one once the pot was hissing to life and producing death coffee. She strolled over to her desk to start up her computer and her eyes fell on a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

It was a lovely arrangement of yellow tulips and baby's breath with a card. It was from the same person who had written that pretty letter, and she licked icing off her fingers before opening it to find more sweet words inside. It'd been almost three weeks since the bomb had been disarmed, and she and Carol had received plenty of letters and stuffed animals and chocolate, but this was the first time flowers had been sent. They were so lovely. She couldn't help but smile and inhale the scent.

Little did she know these were the first of several gifts she was going to receive, and not all would be so kind. As she walked away from the bouquet, a stream of snapshots were taken from the one who had sent the flowers and the letter. The one who had been watching her since that first interview on Morales and the bomb. The one who was now keeping tabs on her and her so called friends. It'd taken years to cultivate these relationships, and in mere moments he would destroy every single bond, saving the best for last.