A/N: Oops. I was a year early in the first two chapters. That has been corrected.
October 19, 1998
Jimmy looked at himself in the mirror for the sixth time in the last ten minutes. His hand went to his neck, straightening his already straight tie. Taking his handkerchief from his pocket, he ran it lightly over his nametag, buttons and bars, removing unseen fingerprints. He adjusted the black ribbon around his badge, moving it slightly, then moving it back, before running the cloth over it.
Dropping his arms to his side, he frowned at the mirror, convincing himself that his ribbons were not straight. Just as he was about to shed the jacket in an attempt to rectify the problem, Angie appeared in the doorway, dressed in a black skirt and double-breasted jacket.
"Jimmy, stop," She said as she walked up behind him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she laid her head against his back and squeezed. "They are fine. We need to go. The girls are waiting in the car."
He turned in the embrace to face her. His arms encircled her shoulders and he pulled her tight against his chest. With a soft kiss to her brow, he turned and rested his cheek against the top of her head. As they stood there, in each other's arms, Jimmy felt his eyes begin to tear.
He had attended many of these in his career, but only one other for someone so close to him. And he had never served as a pallbearer.
With a final squeeze, he released Angie and turned back towards the mirror. With a final look, he stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket and grabbed his glove and cap off the dresser. Taking Angie's hand in his, they left the bedroom.
Jimmy glanced up from his drink to see Alex watching him. He offered her a weak smile by way of acknowledgement. He looked from her tear-glistening eyes to the empty glass in her hand. He raised his glass as a question, received an affirmative nod from her. Turning from her gaze, he went to the kitchen.
Pulling his keys from his pocket, he unlocked the liquor cabinet and took out the bottle of twenty-year old A.H. Hirsch bourbon for Alex and the Bushmills Single Barrel whiskey to refill his own glass. As he was getting a new glass from the cabinet, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw John Eames standing near the center island, a can of soda in his hand.
"Captain, I really appreciate you having this in your home. It means a lot to all of us, you looking out for Alexandra like this." John stuck his hand out to Jimmy.
Taking the offered hand, Jimmy shook it and smiled. "It's the least I can do. Your daughter is an incredible cop, an asset to the department. And a good friend."
"Thank you, Captain. Means a lot, coming from you. I hear good things about you. I'm glad you are here for her now. She's going to need all the support she can get." Sighing, John set his empty can next to the others on the island. "Her and Matt were close. She's not going to take this well."
Sighing, Jimmy poured a splash of amber liquor into his glass and took a swallow. He offered the bottle to John, shrugging when the other man declined. Topping off his glass, he returned the bottle to the cabinet. Leaving the door open, he quickly filled the other glass and replaced the bottle before locking the door again.
Holding a glass in each hand, Jimmy nodded towards John. "Well, back to the trenches."
With a wave from John, Jimmy went back into the den. Alex was still in the same spot on the couch that she had been in when he had left. Slowly, he made his way through the room and sat down next to her. He leaned forward and set his drink on the coffee table before relieving her of her empty glass, replacing it with the full one.
"Take this one slow, it'll knock you on your ass if you don't," Jimmy said softly.
As if in slow motion, Alex raised the glass to her lips and sipped. She grimaced and looked over at Jimmy, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "Thanks, Jimmy."
Nodding, Jimmy picked up his own glass and took a long drink before leaning back. They sat in silence, shoulders touching, Jimmy's white shirt contrasting with Alex's black blouse.
Twenty minutes later, John found them still sitting that way, each cradling their drinks, staring into space, tears running down Alex's face. He cautiously entered the room and sat on the arm of the couch next to Alex, touching her arm softly.
"Honey, do you want a ride home? It's late." John said, his hand resting on Alex's arm.
Alex blinked a few times before answering, "No, Dad. I don't think I can face the apartment right now."
"Would you like to come stay with your mother and I?" He asked, concern in his eyes.
"No. I'm not going to run away. I just can't be there right now." She took a sip from the forgotten glass in her hand.
John looked from Alex to Jimmy, hoping for some help. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Jimmy returned John's gaze. "Alex, you can stay here, if you'd like. I'll make up the guest room."
With a heavy sigh, Alex looked at her glass. "I don't want to be a burden, Cap. I can get a hotel room for the night."
Jimmy set his drink on the coffee table and stood. "Nonsense. It would probably be best that you not be alone tonight." Winking at John, Jimmy continued, "it'll ease your father's mind, since you won't stay with him."
"Thank you, Captain," John said from his perch.
With watery eyes, Alex smiled up at Jimmy. "Thank you."
Resting his hand on her shoulder a moment, Jimmy smiled down at Alex, then nodded to John and left the room to inform Angie of their overnight guest.
October 20, 1998
The evening had been bittersweet, husband and wife clinging to each other in quiet desperation. Jimmy, slightly drunk, had silently pleaded with Angie to hold him, to let him make love to her, to reaffirm that life and love continued in the face of tragedy.
Their passion had been both frantic and languid, Jimmy clumsy in his intoxicated state. Lips had swallowed moans, neither wanting to remind their guest of what she had lost. Even in the throes of climax, Jimmy felt guilty, ashamed that he had something that Alex, sleeping down the hall, didn't.
Jimmy had waited until he was sure Angie was asleep before climbing out of bed. Despite his desire to remain holding her, he wanted to check on the rest of the house. He quietly pulled on a pair of sweatpants and left the room, closing the door behind him.
His first stop was to check on Melissa and Heidi. Pushing their door open, he found both sleeping soundly. Approaching Heidi's bed first, he sat on the edge and pulled the comforter up to her chin before kissing her on the forehead. He then moved on to Melissa's bed, again perching on the edge and adjusting the covers. At the press of his lips to her cheek, she moaned and rolled over. He sat a moment longer, rubbing her back. Satisfied she was asleep he quietly stood and left the room, pulling the door mostly shut.
His next stop was to check on Elizabeth. He opened the door and crack and saw her asleep, a book resting on her chest. Smiling, he closed the door and proceeded down the hallway.
As he passed the guest room, he noticed the door open a crack and the bedside lamp on. He knocked softly. Receiving no answer, he gently pushed the door open, to find the room empty. Concern setting in, Jimmy headed towards the stairs in search of his houseguest.
Slowly creeping down the stairs, he saw that the kitchen light was on. Jimmy was surprised, however, to find the kitchen empty. Shrugging, he retrieved a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. Taking a long drink, he listened to the sounds of a sleeping house, wondering where Alex might be.
Making his way into the dining room, he noticed the sliding glass door open a crack. Positive that he had closed and locked it before going upstairs, he grabbed his cigarettes from the sideboard and made his way over to it. Cautiously sliding it open, he stepped out into the night.
"I remember sitting at that table, drinking beers, shooting the shit, as if it was yesterday." Alex's voice drifted out of the dark to the right of the door.
Turning towards her voice, Jimmy nodded. Lighting a cigarette, he sat down on the concrete step. They sat in silence as Jimmy smoked, the wind blowing lightly. He offered her his glass, smiling when she accepted it.
"I'm sorry I woke you, Jimmy," she said from the dark, "I was trying…"
"You didn't wake me, Alex. I was checking on the girls when I saw your door open." He snubbed out his cigarette and turned to face her. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Matt and I, we met just after I got out of the Academy. He was my training officer my first three months. When I moved to first watch, we started dating. It was a casual thing, at first. I never planned on falling in love with him." Alex's voice was barely audible in the inky darkness.
"Love is never planned, Alex. It just happens. And all you can do is enjoy it while it lasts." Jimmy shook another cigarette from his pack and lit it, inhaling deeply.
"Mind if I have one of those?" Alex's hand floated out of the night, gesturing towards the pack Jimmy had just set down. "I quit ten years ago, but that is all I've wanted all day."
With a light chuckle, Jimmy handed her the pack and the lighter. He watched the spark of the flame and the glow of the tip as she inhaled. She coughed several times before he saw the tip flare again. She leaned forward to hand the pack back to him before disappearing into the black again.
"Next month was going to be our five year anniversary. Took me two years to finally say yes to him. I wonder if things would have been different if I hadn't been so stubborn?" The glow from the cigarette illuminated her face, reflecting off the tears that ran down her cheeks.
"You could drive yourself crazy with that line of thought, Alex. You'll start questioning every decision you've ever made, ever will make. And where will that get you?" Jimmy stood, walking out into the yard.
"Did I ever tell you about Sam?" Jimmy asked from the edge of the porch.
He heard her stand and walk towards him. As she came even with him, he looked over and saw she was wrapped in the comforter from the guest bed. Looking down at his own bare chest, he realized that it was October and the air had a bite to it, gooseflesh covering his arms.
"No," she said from beside him, her cigarette forgotten in her fingers.
"I was his training officer. We were on third watch together for six months before he was shot during a traffic stop. For months, afterwards, I refused to let any rookie do anything. I spent all my time trying to figure out what I could have done differently, what I should have done. I blamed myself for Sam's death." He looked over at her to find her staring out into the yard. "It wasn't my fault, Alex. It wasn't anyone's fault except the mutt who shot him."
Alex's sobs started softly, muffled by the comforter held to her face. Jimmy turned to her, saw the tears streaming down her face, the agony in her eyes. Considering his options for only a moment, he stepped to her.
Wrapping his arms around her, she leaned against his chest. "It's okay. Just let it out," he whispered into her hair. He felt her shaking, her tears wetting his chest, as they stood in the dark.
He refused to let her go as she beat against his chest, raging at the injustice of the world, weeping for what she had lost. As her strength ebbed, she sagged against him, leaving him to support her weight.
When her sobs subsided, he picked her up, cradling her in his arms, and made his way back into the house. Despite the protestations of his back, he carried her up the stairs and gently laid her in the guest bed. As he stood up and looked at her face, he saw that she given herself over to sleep, tears slowly drying on her cheeks.
Turning off the bedside lamp, he quietly closed the door and went back downstairs. A quick pass through the house, locking the sliding glass door and turning off the kitchen light, Jimmy went back upstairs.
Five minutes later, Angie found him sitting on the toilet seat of the master bath, his face in his hands. At her approach, he looked up, tears in his eyes. With a sympathetic look, she took his hand, pulled him to his feet and led him back to bed. Once under the covers, she encircled him in her arms and held him until he drifted to sleep, tears still wet on his cheeks.