A/N: Both POV's cover roughly the same time period, so when it switches to Bobby, it pretty much starts over again.

Alex POV

For the first few seconds after the words left my mouth, I felt relief. I had never told anyone about the fight.

Kevin Quinn had never mentioned it, although for the first few days after Joe's death, he gave me knowing, accusatory looks. And then, he just avoided me altogether.

So I'd never said a word. To anyone. Not to my sister, not to my dad, no one.

Not even Kevin Mulrooney.

I had dated him, for lack of better word, fairly soon after Joe's death. He was someone to talk to, and at that time, I had been missing the companionship more than anything.

I had even considered sleeping with him. I wanted to get over that hump of being with someone else after losing my husband. But it didn't happen, and later I was glad about that. I didn't really have any feelings for him. I had mostly just been using him as a substitute and that wouldn't have been fair to either one of us.

So while I had told Kevin lots of things, I never told him that. It was just too personal.

And now I had shared it with Bobby.

So after the first few moments of feeling like a weight was lifted, I then shifted to feeling panicked.

What would he think of me now? Would he ever look at me the same again? Would he trust me as his partner when I hadn't even been able to keep my husband safe?

I was afraid to look at him, so I kept my focus on the countertop.

"Alex," he said quietly.

I still didn't look, so he settled a hand on my back. It felt strange resting there, between my shoulder blades. He had touched me from time to time, but it was always fleeting.

Not this time. He began moving his hand in slow circles.

"Alex, you know it's not your fault."

What? How could he say that?

I finally got up the nerve to look at him, and damn it, as I tilted my head toward his, the tears escaped.

I had been trying to hold them in, but I had failed.

Just like I failed Joe.

If he noticed my tears, he didn't comment. If he noticed…please. Of course he noticed.

But still, he didn't say anything. Instead he used his steadying, comforting hand that was still on my back to guide me towards him.

I hesitated, knowing that if I went into his arms, I was going to fall apart.

I had been holding it together for a long time, but everything was out in the open now. Everything was fresh and new, as though it had happened yesterday. And I didn't have the strength to keep it inside anymore.

So I had to take the chance that if I fell apart, Bobby would help put me back together again.

I went into his arms.

The first thing I noticed was how natural it felt being held by him. He used the perfect amount of pressure and kept me snug up against him. It felt like being in a warm blanket. And it felt like we'd been doing it for years.

The second thing I noticed was his smell. I mean, he always smelled nice. Whatever kind of cologne or aftershave he chose to use on any given day, it always had a pleasant scent. And even though he tended to alternate between a few different ones, I liked them all equally and found myself paying particular attention each day just to see which one it would be.

But the thing I noticed today was that this close up, the scent was altered. It was a blend of many things: his soap, his laundry detergent, his cologne, his body scent in general. It was a heady combination and I had a feeling that after today, I wouldn't be happy with the arm's length version. I would need the full-on scent.

The third thing I noticed was that he wasn't reluctant to hold me. And I was slightly embarrassed of myself for noticing the other two things first. Because this was important. This had been my biggest concern only a moment ago after spouting out my confession.

Did it mean, since he was willingly holding me, that he didn't think bad of me?

Or was he simply feeling sorry for me, and was, right this minute, biding his time and plotting his escape?

Did it matter?

It did, but not right now. At this moment, I could only swallow my pride and revel in the feel of his comforting arms. I would take it while I could get it, because tonight I really needed it.

And if tomorrow he couldn't look me in the eye anymore, I would deal with it then.

Maybe by then my armor would be back in place because right now it was severely cracked.

For quite a few long minutes, we didn't move from the spot in the kitchen. But I was still crying and he was still soothing me, running his hand along my back and into my hair.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into my hair. "I'm so sorry."

That threw me for a second. He was sorry? Even by Bobby standards, it was tough to come up with a reason of how this could be his fault.

He must have sensed my question even though it never went further than the inside of my brain.

"I'm sorry you lost your husband. I'm sorry it was after a fight. And I'm so sorry that I caused you so much pain by making you re-live it."

"It needed to happen," I told him. And I didn't realize how true that statement was until the words left my mouth.

It needed to happen.

"I've been living with the guilt for too long. It's kept me from being able to move on. It's kept me from…other relationships."

"What could you possibly have to feel guilty about? Fight or no fight, it wasn't your fault he was killed. You have to know that."

My final words to Joe reverberated in my head.

Fuck you, Joe. Just get the hell out.

And yet when we'd gotten married, I loved him. I thought I wanted to spend my life with him. But that's what we were reduced to.

So how could I trust my judgment again?

What if someday I were to say that to Bobby, and then he never made it home?

And then I realized the ludicrousness of that thought.

Bobby and I were not a couple, we were partners. It wasn't the same thing.

And while I might harbor some secret feelings for him, nothing was ever going to happen between us.

Despite the fact that he was holding me now, I knew it didn't mean anything. It was only out of pity. I had thrown him for a loop with my show of female emotions and he didn't know what to do with me.

I could hear his heart slamming in his chest. He was nervous because he was afraid of what I might do next. I realized that I was taking advantage of his sense of chivalry and I decided to let him off the hook.

I took a step back from him and gave him a watery smile.

"Give me a minute, and then we'll talk," I said. He looked at me worriedly, so I added, "I promise."

And I meant it. I was going to get this off of my chest once and for all, and let the chips fall where they may.

Bobby POV

At first, I had been afraid to touch Alex.

She needed it. Even I could see that.

But I was afraid that once I touched her, I'd never want to stop.

But of course, that was selfish. I couldn't deny her the comfort she so desperately needed just because of my own feelings.

I could be the friend she needed. I could be her support system.

In all honesty, I would be any damn thing she wanted because it was tearing me apart to see her so wracked with guilt. Especially knowing that I was responsible for the latest onslaught.

So I put my hand on her back.

Just a gentle touch.

And then she looked at me with tears running down her face, and I felt something break inside of me.

I had no doubt that she would beat herself up for letting me see her emotions get the best of her. She was going to pile that on top of what she was already feeling about Joe.

So I did the only thing I could do. I brought her into my arms and held on tight.

I wanted her to know that it was okay to cry in front of me. I wasn't going to think any less of her.

In fact, the idea that she was sharing her pain with me was humbling. She had crossed the stumbling block that always managed to trip me up. She was willing to open up to me. It was something I always craved to do but somehow let my fear get the best of me.

I always worried if the next words out of my mouth would be the thing that sent her running away from me.

And as I held her, quietly sobbing in my arms, I realized something else.

I had been holding her back.

Not in the professional sense. I was past that. I had felt that for a brief period of time, but I also knew that Alex didn't do anything she didn't want to do.

If she wanted a new partner, she'd have asked.

She did ask.

And thankfully, then she'd rescinded, so I was confident in the knowledge that she valued our partnership.

But no, I was holding her back personally.

I was monopolizing her time, even the off hours.

I called her at all hours of the night, supposedly to bounce theories off of her but in actuality, I simply wanted to hear her voice.

I – secretly gleefully – ruined dates due to call-outs that may or may not have been truly necessary.

In short, I was filling the spot of a significant other without giving her the emotional benefit. I was keeping my distance.

And I was keeping her from having a life.

"I'm sorry," I whispered into her hair. "I'm so sorry."

Once the words escaped, I knew I shouldn't have said them. What was I going to say now?

I'm sorry I won't let you have a life, but I can't possibly ever let you be with anyone else because by the way, I love you too much to let that happen, even though I know you don't love me back?

Yeah, that's great, Goren. Talk about selfish.

I needed to push those thoughts out of my head. I needed to be here in the moment, for Alex. I needed to get her to tell me everything that had happened with Joe so that maybe, just maybe, she could start the healing process that she had so obviously skipped over the first time around.

"I'm sorry you lost your husband. I'm sorry it was after a fight. And I'm so sorry that I caused you so much pain by making you re-live it."

"It needed to happen," she replied.

I felt tremendous relief that she didn't seem to blame me for looking into Joe's case.

That day she'd come into the conference room to find me looking through his case file…well, that was a day I won't soon forget.

And while I knew I should've mentioned it beforehand, I also assumed that she would be interested in opening the case again, especially in light of the recent events.

Alex was a smart detective, and she never took shortcuts. She wanted the right person in jail, period, even if it meant more time, more interviews, more work.

So she threw me a little that day.

She didn't want to consider that the detectives were wrong the first time around. She didn't want to think that the wrong man was in jail.

I should've known then that there was more going on here, but I missed it.

But not today. Today it finally hit me.

And I wasn't going to let her shove her emotions back underground. I was going to stay with her and be her friend and listen. We'd come too far to turn back now.

I could only pray that she agreed with me. And it was a good sign that she hadn't kicked me out for hugging her. In fact, it had seemed to help a little, and she wasn't in any hurry to pull away.

And her hair smelled really good.

That thought triggered a flood of other senses, all equally inappropriate…like the way her body fit perfectly against mine, like the softness of her hair…my heart started to pound and I frantically scrambled to think about something else because the last thing in the world she needed was for me to get aroused when I was supposed to be comforting her.

And then she stepped away from me. I held my breath for a second, but then she asked me to give her a minute.

And as I looked at her face, streaked with tears, I worried whether I would be enough. Would I be able to offer the comfort she needed? Would I say the right things?

"I promise," she added, assuring me that we would talk.

She seemed to have faith in me. So maybe I needed to believe in myself.

I had to believe, at least just this once, that I could be exactly what she needed.

TBC...