Alex lifts the liner of the box of cassette tapes out, and retrieves a small object that is wrapped in a piece of tissue paper. She hesitantly offers it to Bobby. He carefully unwraps an ornament. It is a pink wooden cut out snowflake. It reads Baby's First Christmas with the year scrawled on the bottom. He silently searches her face. His eyes lock with hers. The spark from his subconscious sets ablaze in his mind as he peers into honey brown eyes that are identical to his current partners. He feels a lump forming in his throat, but his voice clumsily tumbles from his lips.
"What do you mean you were there?"
"I was in the room."
"As a witness?"
Her head hangs in shame, "As a participant."
"Alex what are you saying to me?"
"She was so tiny. From my calculations she wasn't due for another month, but then again no pre-natal care was sought. I wrapped her in a towel, and drove to the hospital with her nestled in a banker's box that had been full of receipts. I passed her off to a nurse like I was merely offering a specimen of urine."
"Alex," no further intelligible thought passes his lips. He holds her close as she buries her head in his chest. She sobs violently. Eventually the tears begin to lessen, and he releases her.
"I didn't know what else to do. I got into a situation I didn't know how to get out of. It's not as if I was prepared for the level of commitment to bring down a multi-level trafficking ring. I certainly was unprepared to cope with the consequences. I was a newlywed, and I couldn't bear the thought of going home and imploding the life that was the only thing giving me hope."
He takes a seat next to her on the end of their bed.
"I'm listening."
"I had met Michelle at the beginning of the operation when I required stitches for stepping on broken glass. Over the next few months I got to know here pretty well through various ER visits. Her fiancé at the time was an OB/GYN resident. They put their names on the birth certificate so that there wasn't a paper trail."
"Time doesn't heal all wounds. That saying is not accurate, you know."
"What are you suggesting?" Alex queries.
"Bailey knows. I am not suggesting anything."
"I have spent a lot of sleepless nights wondering if I made the right choice."
"It wasn't as if you were really given a choice, was it?"
"I'm so sorry…"
"I don't need an apology."
He wraps her in his arms. She clings to him. Eventually her arms retract, and she takes a step back.
"I promised my partner I would take her some left overs. I'll head down to the precinct, and give you some space," Bobby moves towards the door.
Alex watches him for a moment. Her eyes fall to the little pink ornament lying on their bed.
"I'm coming with you."
Bailey's stomach is howling like a caged animal when she hears the elevator ding. That's the thing about a slow Christmas shift, the bullpen is like a ghost town, and you can hear a mouse searching for a crumb. She hears her partner's footsteps. She furrows her brow at the notion of a second set of footfalls.
Bailey's long waves of hair are haphazardly secured in a scrunchy. She spins around in her office chair. Her eyes shift upwards, and she is greeted by a pair of people. Her heart begins to race as Bobby places the plate on her desk. She rises to greet them.
"Thanks. You two really didn't have to interrupt your holiday to bring me a plate."
"It was no trouble," Bobby insists.
Alex takes a step closer to her old desk. She clears her throat, and offers Bailey something wrapped in tissue paper.
"That is really not necessary." Bailey insists as she reluctantly begins unwrapping the paper. She stares at the tiny ornament in utter silence.
Alex nervously rubs her fingers. "I have been holding on to that for a long time. It belongs to you."
"I don't know what to say."
Alex wraps the brilliant detective into an embrace. Several moments pass before either party is willing to let go.
"Thank you, for everything," Bailey smiles from ear to ear.
Goren looks at the pair of them, and takes a step back. He points towards the opposite direction as he passes his thumb over his shoulder.
"I'll be back I desperately have to pee."
Once she's certain he's left the room Alex turns towards Bailey.
"This isn't the place to say all of the things that you need to hear."
"Listen, I have zero expectation. This moment was everything, and if it is all I get I will cherish it."
"Too many moments have passed the pair of us by," Alex admits. She scribbles her phone number on a sticky note. "The ball is in your court, Bailey. When you're ready I'll be waiting."
"What if you're not?"
She breaks eye contact, and rubs her finger. She glances at the tiny ornament sitting on the desk. Her jaw stiffens for a moment before she responds.
"I shoved that into a box of old cassette tapes. Every time I've moved I drag it with me. Then I shove it into the back of the closet, and I pretend I don't know that it exists. Denial only goes so far for something heavy that was written on my soul so long ago. The only way to lessen the load is to shine a light where the shame, and self-loathing have learned to live."
Bailey smiles widely, "I spent an entire year belting This Little Light of Mine everywhere I went. I was three, and my parents were mortified. I sang it in the bathtub, and at the grocery store. I sang it in the car, and in the women's bathroom at DMV. I guess what I am saying, is that I've never been afraid to let my light shine."