Her body is humming with wellbeing for the first time in a long, long time. It wasn't even like this in Bermuda. She doesn't know how long this will last, so she won't overthink it, she will just embrace it, thank God for it, for him, for this respite.

Her hair is still damp from the shower and she ties it back, putting on a pair of jeans and a thick cashmere sweater. It is chilly in the apartment, so when she is dressed she heads into the hallway to turn up the thermostat.

The apartment is quiet. Mike is still getting ready for the day, and it's clear that Katy, Pat, and Tommy are still asleep. She heads into the kitchen to make some coffee but hears the television. She sticks her head in the living room and beholds Tommy, curled up on the sofa in his pyjamas, eyes fixed on the television. She smiles at him and says, 'Good morning, Tommy.'

'Auntie Liz!' he says, suddenly jumping off the sofa and running over to her. She hugs him tight, releasing him when he pulls back.

'What would you like for breakfast?' she asks him. 'Pancakes? Waffles? Eggs and bacon?'

He thinks hard. 'Can I have chocolate chip pancakes? And bacon?'

'Of course,' she tells him, smiling. 'Let's go into the kitchen.'

Tommy is stirring the batter and she's starting to fry the bacon when Mike walks in. He's smiling, looking relaxed and easy, and he ruffles Tommy's hair before coming over to greet her. He takes her into his arms and bends her back into a deep, romantic kiss, and Tommy laughs at them.

When they break apart, she gazes up at him, feeling a smile spread across her face. He's grinning back down at her.

'Good morning,' he tells her, and she echoes his greeting. 'Can I help?'

'We're having chocolate chip pancakes and bacon!' Tommy announces.

His arm is still around her waist. 'Want me to make the bacon?' he asks.

She shakes her head. 'I'll do it. Why don't you relax, have some coffee?'

'No, let me, babe,' he tells her, guiding her away from the stove. 'Let me get you some coffee.'

She allows him to guide her to the table, where he settles her in a chair, kissing the top of her head. He pours her a cup of coffee and brings it to her, then he applies himself to frying the bacon and heating up a pan for the pancakes. He accepts the batter from Tommy, then begins to make the pancakes. Before she knows it, there are three plates of pancakes and bacon in front of them and they dig in.

The pancakes are delicious. She practically licks the plate clean and he grins at her, nudging his knee against hers. Tommy is equally ravenous, bolting down his food, then a second helping, before he finally leans back against his chair.

'Good?' Mike asks, and his nephew nods emphatically.

'Can I go watch some more TV?' Tommy asks, looking at them both.

'Sure,' Mike says, and Tommy dashes back to the living room.

She stands up and starts to clear the table.

'No, Lizzie, let me do that,' he says, taking the plates out of her hands. 'Sit down, relax, have another cup of coffee.'

'You're being too nice to me,' she jokes, and she watches as his shoulders tense. 'What is it?' she asks after a beat, her heart suddenly clenching with fear.

'Nothin',' he says, his voice just barely unconvincing enough for her to believe him. She waits, silent, as he sets the dishes down on the counter. 'I've gotta unload the dishwasher.' He doesn't move.

'Mike,' she says. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothin',' he says again, looking down at the counter. 'I just… you're just… you're this amazin' woman, Lizzie. And I love you with all my heart. I just want to take care of you. And I know that I can't, all the time, obviously, but-I can do this. And I just don't want to think about the other stuff right now, and I'm sure you don't either, but I just-I want to take care of you. I would do anything for you. I hope you know that. I just… I feel like I've let you down.'

'Mike,' she says softly.

He turns and looks at her. He looks… bereft, suddenly, such a difference from the joy this morning.

'You didn't let me down,' she tells him. 'You never have, Mike. What happened… it's over. It's in the past. The ramifications of it…' she sighs. 'It's like a stone dropping in the water. The stone is at the bottom of the pond but the ripples are still spreading outwards, and while they're disappearing… it will take time. But you didn't throw the stone. I did.'

'Lizzie-' he says, and she shakes her head.

'I did, Mike. I'm the one who went there… and yes, I know that if it wasn't me, it would have been someone else, but… in this case, I'm the one who put these events into motion.' She sighs again. 'And speaking of stones, I have to go down to Hogan Place on Monday, tell Stone and Robinette about my meeting with Diane. I-I want him put away, of course, but if they charge him and have to put her on the stand… I don't trust them with her. I think that they would cause her irreparable damage.'

'Yeah,' he says softly, rubbing a hand over his eyes. 'And you?' he asks after a long pause. 'Did they irreparably damage you?'

She shakes her head. 'I did that all by myself.'

He doesn't respond; she knows he doesn't know what to say. Neither does she. She stands up, opens the dishwasher, and starts putting away the dishes. She doesn't look at him, but she can feel his gaze on her. Finally he collects the pans from the stove and begins to wash them and they finish tidying the kitchen in silence.

She takes Tommy to play in the park. Katy and Pat are still asleep-this must be their first chance to sleep in in ages, she thinks, leading Tommy across Fifth to the playground at 76th Street. And they were all up late last night. And Katy being pregnant... she can't imagine how Katy does it without a nanny and with a very active child. The least she can do is help.

It's a beautiful crisp day. The sky is a bright blue and there are still a few crimson leaves on the trees, though most have been raked into big piles perfect for jumping. Tommy practically pulls her the last few steps to the gate and releases her hand to throw himself on the swings.

It's still early, so the park is almost empty. There are a few dog walkers but they have the playground to themselves. They swing together and she catches him as he barrels down the slide, and he shows her how good he is at the monkey bars. He collapses on a bench after an hour, when the playground has started to fill with parents and their children, and she produces the snack and juice box she packed.

As he eats, his legs swinging, she thinks about what Mike said, that he let her down. She knows he didn't, but understands why he believes it. But she meant what she said-it wasn't his fault. He couldn't have stopped her from doing what she did, and he did his best.

She doesn't know how she will be able to talk to Stone and Robinette on Monday. She knows she needs to convince them that they cannot use Diane to prosecute him. She fears that if they do, Diane won't survive.

'When are you and Uncle Mike going to get married?' Tommy asks her suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts.

She smiles down at him. 'I'm not sure.'

'When you get married, you'll be my real aunt,' Tommy states happily. 'I want that.'

'Oh, sweetheart, I want that too,' she admits, putting her arm around his narrow shoulders. He smiles up at her and her heart flips over. How can she be so wild with love over this little boy? Is it because she wants children of her own so badly? No, she thinks. She loves Tommy because he is a wonderful little boy, because seeing him is like getting the gift of Mike in his childhood too, if his childhood had been happy. 'I love you so much,' she tells him.

He wraps his arms around her waist and squeezes tight. 'I love you too.'

Then he flings himself off the bench. He is in perpetual motion, it seems. 'I want to run!' he declares, and takes off before she can say anything, running with the wild joy of childhood inside the perimeter of the playground fence.

Her thoughts wander again. When will she sit here, watching her child run, swing, slide? When will she get to shriek with joy over a positive pregnancy test, when will she get to feel her child move inside her, when will she get to hold her baby after they are born? How much longer will she have to wait to feel ready again, and how much longer after that will she have to wait for them to marry?

This summer she thought she might be pregnant, before all of this happened. That was her ostensible excuse for seeing the bastard, after all. Her periods had always been as regular as clockwork and then, suddenly, they were not.

In July her period had been a day late and much lighter than usual. She hadn't really paid attention at the time-they were at the beach for Mike's birthday and honestly it felt like a blessing, not having to worry about tampons-but then in August...

She always had cramps the week preceding her period but they were absent in August. She has an IUD but they aren't foolproof, and she thought...

When she didn't have cramps, she stopped drinking cocktails and had a single glass of wine if she had anything in the evenings. The day her period was due nothing happened, so she went to the pharmacy near her office and bought a pregnancy test. She didn't speak about it with Mike, though she knew that he was aware of what was going on. But she didn't want to talk about it until she knew for sure if she was pregnant or not.

If she had been pregnant... she'll admit that she let herself daydream a bit. She let herself imagine their child and their future if she was pregnant. They'd get married, he'd move in to her apartment for real, and she imagined how they would decorate the nursery, and started thinking of names...

The pregnancy test was negative. Both of them were, and when she finally got her period eight days after she should have she was disappointed. She was devastated. That night when he came back and she was in bed with a hot water bottle he cuddled her close and gave her a massage and kissed her forehead. She doesn't know how he felt and doesn't really want to know, because she's afraid he would have been relieved. He had told her this summer that he wanted children with her, but she was sure that this would have been too soon for him.

Tommy runs back to her, flinging himself into her waiting arms. He climbs up onto the bench next to her and cuddles close. She holds him tight.

'Do you want to play some more?' she asks him.

He shakes his head. 'Can we go back to your apartment? I want to play with my trains.'

'Of course,' she says, releasing him from her embrace. 'Let's go.'

When they get back to her apartment they find Katy, Pat, and Mike in the living room drinking coffee. Tommy runs over to his mother to hug her and she fights back a pang of jealousy as she watches them hug. Then she thinks to herself, you're being ridiculous. You're not ready to have a child right now.

'Thanks for takin' him to the park, Liz,' Katy says, and she looks at Katy. 'I can't believe we slept so late, I'm really sorry.'

She forces herself to smile at Katy and Pat. 'Don't worry about it-you deserved a lie-in. We had a good time.'

'We did,' Tommy confirms, grinning at her.

'Well, we should get goin',' Pat says, standing up. 'Liz, thank you so much for havin' us, and for such a wonderful evening.'

'Thank you for coming,' she says, stepping forward to hug Pat, then Katy, then Tommy. 'You're welcome any time.'

'I'm gonna drive them back, Lizzie,' Mike says as she stands up after hugging Tommy. 'I'll be back in a bit.'

'All right,' she says, and kisses his cheek before they gather their things together. There is one more round of hugs and goodbyes and then she is alone.

Mike will be gone for a couple hours, so she keeps herself busy. She strips the beds in the guest room, their bedroom, and her office, and starts a load of laundry. She makes up their bed with fresh sheets. She cleans the bathrooms and tidies up her office, and then, at a loss for what else to do, makes herself a cup of tea and goes into the living room. She builds up a fire, then selects a record-Joni Mitchell, Clouds, and puts it on, then goes back to her big sofa, lying back and closing her eyes.

Her mind wanders easily nowadays. It never used to, not even at other times of distress in her life. But now… it takes so much effort to keep her concentration on the task at hand, even if the task is a pleasant one, like listening to music.

Her life feels so different now. Her mind feels different. What happened… it wasn't just a physical attack, and adjusting to life after this has been a difficult mental shift. Her physical wounds have healed, though it took time; she's not sure when, if ever, the mental ones will. Bruises fade easier than these memories.

The problem is, she thinks, is that when and if these mental wounds heal, scars will remain. Her life will not go back to the way it was. It never will. It never could. And she wants her life to go back to the way it was so badly…

She was happy. She was almost completely happy, and of course that couldn't last. Happiness never does, she thinks. But then nothing lasts really, neither happiness nor despair. She opens her eyes. Where is that from? She casts about in her mind but nothing enlightens her. She'll think of it later. It's true. This won't last forever, and that gives her hope.

She is glad, at least, that they were finally able to make love here at home. She doesn't know why she didn't feel comfortable before. Her apartment is her home, her sanctuary, and she is safe here. And it's not only her home, it's their home, the place where they live, even though he has his own apartment.

She doesn't want to go down to Hogan Place on Monday. At least she has a few days before she needs to speak with Stone and Robinette. She has two and a half days left, and for all of them Mike will be here with her. Maybe they can just barricade the doors, the two of them, and spend the weekend together, alone. Maybe they can just listen to music and drink hot chocolate in the windowseat and maybe she can just stay curled up against his warmth, safe. That's what she wants, she decides. She wants to stay here with him. She hopes he agrees. A few days of peace…

'I don't know where I stand,' Joni Mitchell sings.

She doesn't know where she stands with many things, she thinks. She's getting back to work slowly, and she and Mike are resuming their relationship, but she feels like she needs to renegotiate her place in the world, and she doesn't know how to do that.

The record comes to an end and she stands up to change the record to the b-side. She sits back down on the sofa and picks up her forgotten mug of tea. She takes a sip and listens.

'"Lady, please love me now I was dead
I am no saint, turn down your bed
Lady, have you no heart, " that's what you said
Well, I can be cruel
But let me be gentle with you."'

She loves this song, though she hasn't listened to it for years. Joni Mitchell's voice is beautiful. As she begins the second verse, she hears the keys in the lock, then hears Mike open the front door. She closes her eyes and listens as he sheds his coat and shoes, hanging up his coat in the closet, then listens as he locks the doors. He pads down the hall to the living room and she opens her eyes to see him standing in the doorway.

'Hey,' he says. 'I like the music.'

'Joni Mitchell,' she tells him as the song comes to an end. 'Can you restart this side?'

'Sure,' he says, and walks over to the record player. She prefers records, likes the durabilty of them, and he lifts the needle and drops it at the beginning of the record again. As the music starts to play, he comes over to the sofa and sits back against the other sofa arm, facing her, pulling her feet onto his lap. He starts to rub them as the song begins again.

'You really like poetry, don't you?' he asks as Joni plays the final chords. He's been massaging her feet the entirety of the song and now he slides his hands up her ankles to her calves.

'Yes,' she says, and he slides one hand up to rest on the back of her knee. She feels her heartbeat quicken, knows that her breathing has become shallower at his touch. She looks into his eyes and her breath catches in her throat at the love and desire there. He lowers his head and kisses her knee. Then, suddenly, he stands up and restarts the record, looking over at her.

'I like this song,' he tells her, joining her on the sofa again.

'Mm,' she says, leaning back further, almost completely reclining, as he kisses her ankle, then makes his way up her leg, then further, up to her stomach, moving her cashmere sweater away. She's almost panting with pure, uncomplicated, blissful desire, and his breath is coming quickly now too as he slips his hand up her skirt.

'Lady, please love me,' he says softly, looking down at her, holding himself above her so that they barely touch. 'Please love me, love me, love me.'

'I do,' she breathes, looking up into his eyes. 'Oh, God, I love you.'

He looks back at her, his gaze intense, and slowly, slowly, bends to kiss her. The kiss is soft and passionate and goes on and on, until her entire body is trembling with the force of her need for him. He pulls back and she stares up at him, dizzy.

He says, almost apologetically, 'I'm not a saint, Lizzie, you know that, but love me, please-please love me, please let me in, let me be with you-'

She feels herself nod, in a daze, and he sits back, pulling his body away from her. She moans in disappointment and confusion and then he is lifting her up, carrying her into their bedroom. He sets her down next to the bed and rests one hand on her waist, one hand on the small of her back.

'Let me be gentle with you,' he says softly, his voice barely a whisper. 'Please, Lizzie, I love you, I need you, I want you-'

She feels lightheaded and dizzy and drunk with love and need. She nods and he begins to undress her very slowly, tenderly, lovingly. She moves to reciprocate, to unbuckle his belt or unbutton his shirt, but each time he gently takes her hands in his, kisses them, and brings them back to her side.

Finally she is naked and so is he and he looks at her with love. 'You are so beautiful,' he says fervently, reaching out to gently caress her hip. 'Oh, God, Lizzie, I can't believe how beautiful you are.'