He stared at them in shock, his heart dropping to the ground below him. How many times had she told him she would never cheat because she never wanted to be like Fred? And yet here she was having sex with her boss? What the hell?

Faith eyed the gun not knowing if he possessed the power to use it or not. He put it back into his ankle holster and she let out of breath of relief.

"It's not what it looks like"

"What does it not look like? You fucking him? That's exactly what it looks like!"

He needed air now, he turned around hearing sounds that indicated she was following him, he bent over and started searching through the bags looking for the champagne and glasses he recently bought, he needed a drink.

He sat the bottle and glasses on the counter as he moved to the liquor cabinet above the sink, he didn't bother with a glass, he took it straight from a bottle. He was silent for a moment until he asked in an almost whisper

"Why?" He couldn't look at her and his eyes remained on the floor between them. Why would she do this? After all they've been through why now?

"I don't know, it just sort of happened"

"How long has it been going on?"

She didn't say anything, that told him it had happened more than once and she didn't regret it either.

"Why would you do it? In our bed of all the fucking places to do it! I sleep in that god damn bed for Christ sakes!"

"Bos please"

"Don't you mean Miller please?"

"That's not fair"

"You don't get fair" "You don't deserve it"

He wasn't angry and that made him angry, this was the girl he had decided to spend the rest of his life with and he wasn't angry that she had, had an affair with someone.

He took another swig, the liquid burning as it went down.

Noises could be heard from the bedroom and seconds later Miller appeared. He didn't know if he wanted to kill the man or shake the man's hand and congratulate him.

He placed the lid back on the bottle and placed it in its place above the sink. If she loved him why wasn't she fighting that he listen to her? Can anyone tell him that?

Maybe this was some dream and any second now he would wake up and everything would be back to normal, he would have come home, set everything up and then propose with her saying yes, that wasn't going to happen, not ever. This wasn't a dream.

"Bosco, I love you so much please let's work this out"

"You know the thing that gets me the most is that you say you love me and yet you have said maybe two sentences on your own, I've had to ask you the rest. If you did love me, you'd be fighting me to listen to you" He put the champagne and glasses back in the bag and picked them up.

He knew he'd hit home when she didn't say anything back. He looked at her and started walking towards the door, he stopped only long enough to look back at her and said

"And I was stupid enough to want to spend the rest of my life with you"

The door slammed behind him as he left.

He raised the glass to his lips the liquid no longer burning like it once did hours ago. This was a time where he just needed to get drunk. Forget his problems at least for a little while.

He liked this bar, the music, you could understand, it wasn't loud but it wasn't low enough that you could hear everyone's conversation, he'd been sitting on the bar stool for god only knows how long and this was his umpteenth drink, he'd lost count after the first two.

The bar was nearly empty now, not like a few hours ago when you could barely move, your personal space being invaded. This was how he liked it, but for some reason not tonight, it left him alone with his thoughts and right now that wasn't a good idea.

"It's closing time" he glanced up to see Stan the bartender, wiping a glass with a rag, a cliché almost in so many movies bartenders did that standing in front of him.

"One more?" He downed the last of it and placed it on the table the hard sound of it hitting the bar was the only noise between them. He was done Stan wouldn't give him another.

The door to the bar opened sending in a gush of cool air that wrapped itself around him as he saw who came in and swore under his breath.

"Stan why the hell did you call her?"

"Cause you asked me too an hour ago" He didn't remember that

"C'mon Bosco time to get you home" his partner replied, seeing her hair in a ponytail was a first for him she always wore it in a messy bun, when the wind blew it would send small pieces of hair into her face and the sun shining down on her made her look like an angel. A Devil Angel.

"Ashley good to see you" he stood up grabbing his coat and stumbled against the bar grabbing onto the bar for support but ending up falling on his butt instead.

She extended her hand to help him up and he took it, he had to reply on her doing most of the work cause his feet wouldn't work quite right. He leaned heavily on her as they were making it to the exit as he passed out on her. She almost went down but luckily another pair hands help her steady him.

Ashley looked up to see who had helped her, a woman maybe closer to Bosco's age then her own, she was often teased about her age but that didn't matter when you were on the streets it was the experience you had.

"Thanks, he weighs a ton"

"No problem"

The woman helped Ashley get him to her car they talked along the way.

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"This idiot oh no just my partner" "we work together at the 79th precinct"

Ashley buckled him in the seat and stood back up, the woman waiting for her.

"I'm Ashley by the way"

"Maritza" they shake hands

"Well I better get back in there, Stan'll need me to help close"

"Sorry to keep you"

"It's no problem" With that she left.

Ashley was driving along the way to Bosco and Faith apartment when he finally came to.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To your apartment, you know the one you share with Faith"

"NO, not there" "I refuse to go back there"

"Why Bosco?"

"Just Cause" he passed out again, she turned and made the way to her apartment knowing she would weasel the whole story out of him in the morning.

He slowly opened his eyes sunlight blinding him, the light hurting his head, he looked around with slinted eyes and didn't know where the hell he was, he did know that he needed to throw up. He tried fighting with the nausea but couldn't win he leaned over the bed and emptied his stomach; he'd opened his eyes to find his stomach contents went into a bucket beside the bed.

"Morning Sleepyhead" Ashley said rather loudly as she walked into the bedroom, carrying a bottle of aspirin and glass of water. Her voice making his head throb more than it already was. He glared at her, she handed him the bottle and water and left. He downed four aspirin and half the water, the recommended two weren't going to help this hang over.

The effects of yesterday came rushing back to him forcing him to close his eyes in pain. He could remember everything up until shortly after he entered the bar and had a few drinks, the rest of it hazy and fuzzy, he just hoped he didn't do anything stupid like jeopardize the friendship he had going with Ashley, which brought him to the question of why he was here in the first place, he didn't, they didn't, no he still had his clothes on.

He made his way out of her bedroom into her living room and could see her in the kitchen cooking something, the smells making him nauseous. He had to find out why how he ended up here and soon.

He sat with his head against the window of the RMP with his eyes closed, praying for the shift to be over, the dull throbbing pain still hadn't gone away. Partly from the hangover and a dull numbing effect had taken over his body he guessed from the betrayal he experienced yesterday. He wasn't ready to face her, the pain still too real.

His attempts to get anything out of Ashley had failed miserably, not only would she not tell him what happened last night and how he ended up at her place, she also hinted that something had happened between them. He wished she was joking; he didn't need the complication of that too, to deal with. She had been nice about it this morning ducking calls that would require a lot of thought involved, and taking the really easy calls that resulted in a arrest in which she took care of the paper work, or just a ticket. They had just ducked a robbery call, which he was thankful for, that would have been a hour wasted listening to some person swear they had locked the door or window but really hadn't. She did have a mean side today too, for no reason she would talk loud or make unnecessary noise making his head throb harder.

"How did it go with Ramirez go yesterday?" The atmosphere in the car changed dramatically.

"I got about an hour with him before I ended up giving him a black eye"

"Your making progress, the last time it was forty-five minutes"

"I KNOW" oww his head, he did deserve it, he should have done the remainder of the shift and then gone to get the stuff, maybe then he wouldn't have caught her in the act but it was all for the better. He'd rather find out now, then couple months down the road when it had been going on longer and they were engaged. She saw him wince when she had replied; she'd give him what he needed to know.

"Stan says that you were sitting in the bar for about four hours, drinking the time away, he made you eat, he said that you told him to call me, I came helped you off your ass after you fell, and the thanks I get for that is you pass out on me! Some waitress named Maritza helped me with you and then she left, you came too, told me you didn't want to go home so I took you to my place. You were out before your head touched the pillow"

Maritza, he knew one person by that name and she was dead. It had to be someone else; there were how many people in New York City? There had to be hundreds maybe even thousands named Maritza.

"You didn't get a last name?"

"Knowing her last name wasn't high priority, sorry"

"What she'd look like?"

"Why the sudden interest in her?"

"I just knew someone named Maritza, just wondered if it was her"

"She was a bit shorter than me, I'd say Spanish, Puerto Rican, black hair, big lips and very petite"

She had just described the Maritza he knew down to a T. No she was dead. He watched the place blow up, with her in it. Maritza was a Spanish name, there would be others who matched the description it was just a fluke.

It just had to be.