Thank you to JenJenxx, itsallOC, Panz, Kylie, Sunny, Jen, Mariana, ally, Lauren, Cynthia, Natalie, Michelle, Kandy4eva and Cohen-girl for your reviews, they are appreciated as always.

I think I got the fluff out of my system with 'Afternoon Delight' and now I'm ready to tackle the angst. It doesn't come so easily, which is why it's taking longer to update. I hope it was worth the wait! I added the Kirsten/Seth scene at the end just because I really wanted to see something like this on the show.

The Accomplice

Sandy sat dejectedly on the stool at the end of the bed.

Rebecca was dead.

He hadn't wanted to believe it; he refused to believe it until he had proof.

Only now he had proof. His friend, Mark, had called to tell him that Rebecca was really dead.

Sandy sighed, his head spinning. He had met Rebecca in the first couple of days at Berkeley and they had become friends quickly. They had so much in common – she was Jewish, political, passionate, intelligent. He had fallen in love with her and asked her to marry him; he had expected to spend the rest of his life with her. Until she had been involved with a fire at a nuclear lab site which had killed a custodian and she had disappeared. No goodbye. She had just gone.

Sandy had moved on and Rebecca had been safely in his past until Max had turned up. A memory; an old life. He couldn't remember the last time she had even passed through his thoughts. He had a new life now: Kirsten, Seth and Ryan. Sandy loved his family more than anything and he had no regrets about his life.

But he had always been haunted by the same question: what if she had never left?

He heard Kirsten come through the door and looked up at her.

"What are you gonna do?" Kirsten asked softly.

Sandy sighed. "Well, I gotta call the Professor but I…I can't tell him this on the phone."

"I'm sorry," Kirsten said, walking over and sitting next to him. "It was a long time ago. Maybe I need to let go of her too."

She rubbed his back and Sandy was comforted by her touch. He smiled sadly.

"I'm gonna go. I won't be long," Sandy said.

He stood up and grabbed his jacket, leaving Kirsten alone in their bedroom. She sat for a moment, her mind clouded with thoughts.

Rebecca Bloom.

Kirsten felt like she had been living in Rebecca's shadow since she first met Sandy. She remembered the whispers amongst his friends when he had first introduced her and how surprised they had been; she remembered the first time she had met the Nana and how she had always made her disapproval so apparent. They were so different, so incompatible in most people's eyes. Sandy had always reassured her, always told her she was the one and that they were meant to be. He took away her doubts.

But deep inside, Kirsten had always carried around the insecurity that one day he might wake up and realise they were living a fantasy. That it wasn't real.

A wave of guilt washed over her. Sandy was hurting and she was caught up in her own thoughts instead of comforting him. Kirsten sighed and got up from the seat, rushing out of the bedroom and down the hall.

"Sandy?"

Sandy's hand was on the door handle and he paused when he heard Kirsten's voice calling him. He turned back to her as she approached him.

Kirsten paused as she took in his sad expression and she tried to shake off her fears at how hard Rebecca's death had hit her husband.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Kirsten asked.

Sandy looked surprised for a second, before offering a small smile. "No, thanks. I think it would be better if it was just me and Max."

"Are you sure?" Kirsten asked again. "I could wait in the car or hide in the back? I could just be there if you needed me."

"Honey, I appreciate it, I really do. But I need to do this on my own," Sandy said cautiously, not wanting to upset her.

Kirsten nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. Sandy moved towards her and kissed her cheek lightly.

"Thank you," he said. "I love you."

He saw doubt shadow her face. "You know I love you, right?"

"I know," Kirsten answered unconvincingly.

Sandy paused, staring into her eyes. He could see that she didn't understand his reaction and he wished he could explain, but for once he didn't have the words. She had accused Rebecca of being the love of his life earlier; she had accused him of still being in love with her. Sandy knew that wasn't true, but he didn't know what he felt – just numb.

"You remember a couple of weeks ago? You remember when I got up on stage and sang for our anniversary?" Sandy suddenly asked her, wanting to reassure her. "You remember me declaring that you were the love of my life? I meant every word."

Kirsten smiled slightly, appeased by his words.

"I really should go," Sandy said gently.

Kirsten nodded and he kissed her again, this time pressing his lips firmly against hers.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too," Kirsten replied. She waited at the door as he got in his car and left, driving away from the house; driving away from her.

Kirsten sighed again and went into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and pouring herself a large glass. She sat at the table, her shoulders slumped. The glass emptied quickly and she poured another, trying to block the thoughts that invaded her mind.

She heard the low murmur of voices and a familiar giggle coming from the hallway and looked up as Seth came into the kitchen.

"Hey," Kirsten greeted him. "Was that Summer?"

Seth nodded. She saw him notice the bottle of wine that sat on the table in front of her and she consciously moved the glass away from her as he sat down at the end.

"Is everything ok?" Kirsten enquired.

"Yeah, actually it is," Seth said, sounding a little surprised. "Where's dad?"

"Oh, he had to go out and see someone," Kirsten answered vaguely. She saw the concerned look on his face and changed the subject quickly. "What's that?"

She pointed to the sketchbook that was in his hands.

"This? Oh, it's just something I've been messing around with," Seth answered, slightly embarrassed.

It wasn't that his mom would think he was silly, drawing comic books, but she was an Art History scholar; she liked the classics – Monet, Van Gogh, Rembrandt. Why would she be interested in his cartoons?

Seth could remember when he was younger, whenever they had an art class or a painting session at school, he would rush home to show his mom what he had drawn. She would always lift him up onto her lap and hold the picture in front of them, gushing at how wonderful she thought it was and pointing out all the good things about it. She never once told him that he should be careful to colour within the lines or that he should use a ruler to draw a straight line.

Kirsten saw his embarrassment but persevered. Something – anything – to occupy her mind. "Can I see?"

"Uh, sure," Seth passed her the sketchbook nervously. "They're only rough."

Kirsten opened it carefully and Seth saw her face light up. A giggle escaped from her mouth.

"Is this Ryan?"

"Yeah," Seth said, squirming in his seat. "It's pretty dumb."

"No, it's good," Kirsten smiled at him.

Her eyes scanned the picture carefully before turning over to find a drawing of Marissa.

"Cosmo Girl?"

Seth shrugged, pleased at Kirsten's responses to his pictures. She turned the page again and stopped at a drawing of Summer.

Kirsten smiled. "This is your best," she declared.

"Really?" Seth leant forwards in his seat.

"Yeah. There's more passion behind this one; more detail. Maybe because you know the subject so well," Kirsten said slowly.

Kirsten watched him closely. She felt like she was leading a separate life from her sons these days. She knew that things were over with Alex and, judging from the drawings in front of her, she could guess the reason why.

Seth looked away, his cheeks reddening, and Kirsten decided not to push any further.

"The boobs are little big though."

"Mom, don't say boobs," Seth groaned playfully.

Kirsten laughed.

"So you like them?" Seth asked.

"Yeah, I do," Kirsten said.

"Thanks," Seth smiled gratefully. "I'm gonna go see if Ryan's home."

Kirsten nodded and watched him head out to the poolhouse. She looked at the glass of wine that sat in front of her. Grabbing the glass, she stood up and walked over to the island, pouring the contents down the sink.

She checked the time. Sandy had said he wouldn't be gone long, but she guessed he would stay with the professor for as long as he needed to. She headed back to the bedroom and changed into her pyjamas, curling up on the bed with her book.

Waiting for Sandy to come home.