Kim paced the apartment for what seemed like the hundredth time since 11:00 p.m. She'd been waiting for Bosco since she got home from work. It was now 2:30 in the morning with no sign of him. She called his apartment and got his machine. She thought back to the pathetic, whiny message she'd left and wished there was a way to call back and erase it. She sounded like a whining child. But the later it got, the more worried she became.

Finally, at about 3:15 there was a light knock on her door. She walked over and looked through the peephole to see Bosco leaning against the doorway. She opened the door and he walked into the apartment. "What's up?" he asked her, wondering why she looked so angry. She could smell the alcohol on his breath as he kissed her on the cheek.

"What's up?!" she repeated. He looked at her sensing that he was in trouble for something.

"Yeah, you sounded upset on the machine. I was going to call, but I didn't want to wake you up if you were sleeping. I drove over and noticed your lights were on so I came up," he explained, mentally trying to figure out what he'd done to make her angry. "So, what's the problem? Joey okay?" he asked unable to think of anything he'd done wrong.

"The problem, Bosco, is that I've been waiting to find out if you're okay after what happened today. That's the problem," she said, waiting for his response.

"Why wouldn't I be okay after what happened today. We got the bad guys. They're not gonna be bothering anyone else - ever," he simply stated.

"Do you know how scared I was when I heard the call for EMS for a 10-13? I was so scared I could hardly move. I was so afraid to come around that corner and find you lying on the ground with a bullet in you," she said, starting to tear up.

"Whoa, hey, hey. I'm okay, Kim. I'm fine," Bosco said, walking over to her. He reached out for her, but she pushed him away.

"But, how can you be fine after something like that? How can that not affect you? Two people lost their lives today and they still don't know if that old man from the store is gonna make it. Candy's okay, but he came close to dying today. So, how can you just be 'OK' with it?" she asked, trembling again at the feelings she had when she heard the radio call for an officer down.

"Look, it didn't not affect me," he said, trying to figure out a way to put it into words. "But, I'm not the one who decided to go out and try to rob a store today. I'm not the one who decided to go out in a blaze of glory. And those two 'people' that lost their lives today are scumbags. Anyone that would prey on people like that aren't human, they're dirt."

He looked at the expression on her face and started to pace, "You know what, I was wrong. It did affect me. It affected me when I walked into that store and found that woman being held as a shield in front of that coward. It affected me when they were shooting at my partner. It affected me when they pulled that cab driver from his cab and used it to try to get away in. It affected me when I had to chase him through yards and track him like the dog that he was. It affected me when he shot at cops. It affected me when he hit one of those cops and then ran like a coward into some house where who knows who could have gotten killed inside," he said, starting to get angry and not wanting to. Kim just looked at him. This is what she wanted. This is what she was waiting for. He should have been here, telling her his feelings. Not trying to forget them in some bar with his buddies, reliving the glory.

"So, yeah. I guess you could say it affected me, but I'm handling it," he said, standing still and leaning against the desk in her living room. She looked at him. He had on his 'don't piss me off' look. She'd seen it a million times while he was working; when he was dealing with one jag-off or another as he termed them.

"Oh, yeah. You're handling it fine. You smell like a brewery, Bosco. How is going out and getting drunk handling it?" she asked him. "Look, I'm sorry, but I'm just not used to dealing with this stuff everyday. It's different for me. I'm not used to worrying about people that I love being shot at or running after people that are going to try to kill them," she said, trying so hard not to cry again, but she just couldn't shake the feelings she had when she thought it could have been him that got shot.

She sat on the couch and Bosco watched her for a moment. "Dammit," he thought to himself. Finally, he walked over and sat down next to her. "Look, I'm not used to having to worry that someone else is worrying about me. I mean, Faith worries and I worry about Faith when we're working, but it's different. It must be the way Fred worries about Faith while she's working," he said. She nodded her head as she leaned against him.

He put his arm around her and they sat back against the couch for a little while, thinking about what each other had said. After a little while, Bosco realized what she'd said to him.

"You love me?" he asked her quietly, not sure how he felt about her revelation.

"Can't you just be like a deliveryman or something less dangerous?" she asked, avoiding his question. She hadn't been ready to reveal that to him yet, but it was out there and she couldn't - wouldn't - take it back.

"I'm sorry," he said finally.

"I was so scared," she responded, holding onto him tightly.