Disclaimer: There not mine, Dick Wolf and co. own em. It's a nice thought though, me rich!

Authors Note: Here's a small chappie. I just wanna thank everyone for the brilliant reviews, I never imagined such a great response. You are all legends. Oh bout the matrons, etc. etc. I'm sorry Daf9, I can only write what I know. I wasn't aware Americans scrapped those terms. Ok, now this may head in a shippy direction, god save, I don't think I'm in control of the story anymore. Rather, it controls me.  Thanks to Brandy for all her help and kindness!

Please Read & Review. And if you want more, tell! ;)

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'dolce far niente' ….. chapter 2

She just lay there; it was almost like nothing had happened. Like nothing had changed. As if no machines were forcing her breath or holding her heart in rhythm. For a second the purple blemishes on her skin weren't just hidden by an ivory sheet, they never existed. And her chocolate eyes might emerge and immerse me. And she would smile, radiantly, if only to scatter my fear. And return my grasp and tell me I never had to worry because she promises she will never leave me. And for a nanosecond everything would return to normal. The thought that it might not is intolerable. And if I cannot have the past then I hope that this moment will remain infinitely entrenched in my mind.

"Sir. I think its time you made your way home." Goren turned to see the woman. Her arms aloft, signaling his surplus presence, trying to persuade him through the door. 

"A minute." He replied, brushing his fingers across her milky cheek a last time. Then enfolding her slight hand in his, as he leant over and placed a kiss on her forehead. He bit his lip. "Night Alex." Picking up his jacket he walked from the room, feeling her presence drain away with every step. He didn't want to walk away, he had left something of himself with her.

"Do you need to call a cab?" She enquired.

"Huh."

"A cab?"

His despondence was obvious, his grasp from reality was slipping, but he held his composure. "No, I will be fine. Thank you."

"She will be alright." 

He didn't answer; he knew what she said held little substance. He learnt young that false hope could destroy valid optimism. He smiled politely. Striding to the elevator with haste, attempting to escape the dismal atmosphere that was suffocating him.

His eyes met the bitter air, watering at the impact. Bobby took a deep breath, relishing the crisp smell of nothingness. His eyes watched his breath hanging in the air, dissolving into nonentity. The lightness of it all was dreamlike. No harsh metallic smell of car and blood, no fumes of disinfectant and the cheap scent employed to mask it. Light was absent, except for the illumination of street lamps on the grey path and occasional car beams, hazy through the fog. He walked to his car, his eyes following his feet, his hands hung limp in his pockets. Every thought centered on her and he knew every attempt to change the subject would be in vain. He needed her more than he could ever have fathomed. He had become complacent about her presence, its value masked by the monotonousness of his lifestyle. Hell, it had only taken him a year to fall in love with a woman and become nonchalant about her company. And he had never been conscious to it, she was always there and he knew of nothing else. He possessed an eye for extreme detail but couldn't see the blatant love he had for her.

As Bobby walked through the streets, concrete giants on either side peering down, overwhelming his figure, he was almost too tired to be scared. Almost…

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