OK, so this is just to kind of tide everybody over until I figure out where this story is going. Just to keep the interest up. Nothing really happens.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

The muted church bells boomed softly inside the tall, gothic bell tower. An already small group of black clad mourners grew smaller as one by one they turned away from the graveyard. They were walking slowly away from an ominous, black coffin, strewn now with roses, the mourners' last parting gift to the man resting inside.

Then, quite unexpectedly, blaring and upbeat jazz music began to play, and a man began to speak about all of the wonderful qualities of his new, innovative fabric softener.

"It'll have your clothes-", the screen went blank, and Alex set the t.v. control down, sighing. Ever since the day that Hector Ramos had been killed, the news had been showing that same clip of his funeral at least five times a day. And it was always followed by a black and white picture of NYPD Detective Robert Goren, then Mrs. Ramos sobbing at her arraignment about how shooting the detective was justice.

Alex Eames was getting tired of the media's spin on the incident. Controversy had broken out over whether or not Bobby should be charged with murder, and whether Mrs. Ramos' actions could be justified. Of course, the respective answers were no, and no. But none of the ratings-hungry channels seemed to be able to comprehend this, of if they did, they just didn't give a damn.

Alex yawned and looked over at the clock. It was only 7:30, and hospital visiting hours didn't start until 9. All the same though, she went into her room and began to get dressed to go. She took her time in selecting a blouse, settling on a lilac colored one that would look casual yet presentable. Halfway through buttoning the front, she stopped. Why was she worried about what she looked like? Bobby wouldn't see her anyway. It had now been a week since four hot pieces of lead had shattered his body, and although the surgery had reportedly gone well, Bobby hadn't moved once, or even opened his eyes. Alex finished buttoning her shirt, trying not to let the tears escape. It seemed like all she had done for Bobby was cry. Crying wasn't going to help him, she told herself. Being strong and supportive of her partner was all she could do. But Alex had been doing that for a week now, and there'd been no change.

The surgeon who had operated on Bobby said that he had crashed on the operating table. They had brought him back by shocking him, but Bobby had lost a lot of blood and his brain had been deprived of oxygen longer than it could stand. Alex had been too shocked even to cry when the doctor had said that Bobby had about a ten percent chance of waking up. She just couldn't believe it. Bobby Goren, her partner. Tall, strong, brilliant Bobby. A vegetable with a breathing tube shoved down his throat keeping his body alive.

Alex shook her head as she began to gather up her purse and coat. It wasn't certain yet. His doctors were giving him another week before making it official. She couldn't give up yet. It was still her job to be strong and optimistic, even if she didn't feel like it. Her parents had sat with her at the hospital for three days, but it soon became evident in their eyes that they didn't believe Bobby would be waking up. Grateful for their support, but unable to endure their pity, Alex had sent them away on the fourth day and remained alone with her partner, praying that he might so much as move a finger, or anything that would show the slightest sign of life.

The subway was nearly empty at this hour of the morning, and Alex was glad to be able to have a seat to herself and her thoughts. When it arrived at her spot, she wearily stood and exited, reluctantly making her way to the stairs.

"Alex!"

Her head snapped up at the voice, and her eyes landed on Captain Deakins. Alex stopped dead in her tracks as he hurried over to her, her heart beating like timpani in a Mahler symphony ( a big mvt., of course). As Deakins came closer, she saw that his expression was excited and happy.

"Bobby-?" was all Alex could think to say. Deakins nodded his head, breathless.

"He's awake."

TBC……………………………………………………………………………….