Abruptly alone with the woman she'd been dreaming about for weeks, Kelly stared at Serena, holding her gaze as if she were an anchor. She was afraid to turn her head, afraid to look away, for fear that Serena would disappear like a mirage or, worse yet, that, unmoored, she herself would drift farther out to sea.

"Kelly?"

Serena's voice was cautious, but laced with a tremor of frustration that was as impossible to ignore as it was disconcerting. At that moment, time twisting out of gear and every detail shifting into sharp focus—the soft pad of skin between Serena's thumb and forefinger, hand resting on the table; the tendril of hair skirting her left eyebrow; the careful half-smile ghosting over her lips but tempered by guarded eyes—Kelly became hopelessly distracted by the apprehension coloring Serena's voice. She had intended to start with an apology, move on to an explanation, and finish with a request—for coffee, for dinner, for a movie, for anything really that involved possible reconciliation, anything that might lead to the eventual distillation of language down to the nonverbal sighs of pleasure that peppered her nightly fantasies.

There were so many things she should have said, but Kelly was thrown by the half-angry, half-hurt look on Serena's face, and what came out was probably the worse possible response to her friend's hesitant query.

"God, she couldn't get out of here fast enough, could she?" Kelly tried to make light of the situation, tilting her head in the direction of Tracey's departure, smiling ruefully and hoping her boss, her friend, didn't think her a complete fool.

Serena's eyes turned from guarded to steely and, when she spoke, her tone was cold.

"Yes. Surprising, considering it looked like you were both having such a lovely evening. I'm sorry I interrupted and spoiled the mood."

Kelly flinched. The harshness of the other woman's tone clearly said that she wasn't sorry in the least. Kelly pushed down her own ire and tried to explain.

"You didn't spoil anything, Serena. We just went out for dinner after work. Nothing more. I…"

"I don't really care, Kelly," Serena interrupted, "You don't have to explain. I mean, it's not as if I have any right to care, do I?"

"There's nothing going on between me and Tracey. We're friends."

"It doesn't matter, Kelly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what I said. It doesn't matter. I made a mistake. We both made a mistake. I never should have thought…" Serena's alto grew noticeably deeper for moment before she cleared her throat and shook her head, avoiding Kelly's eyes.

"You never should have thought what, Serena?"

"Nothing. Never mind. Look, I'm sorry it's so hard for you to talk to me, but you don't have to try to make this right. We were drunk. I took advantage. And clearly that evening was upsetting enough that you haven't wanted to talk to me this past month. If I hadn't happened in here tonight, we still wouldn't be talking. So let's let it go. I'm sure we both have more important things to worry about."

"I'd hardly call my memories of that evening upsetting."

Kelly tried to smile, but Serena only bit her lip and breathed out a disappointed sigh.

"Don't patronize me, Kelly. It doesn't suit you, and I deserve better."

"I didn't mean…"

"I know," Serena interrupted her again, "I didn't mean for this to happen either. And I am truly sorry I've, we've, managed to screw things up so royally. I don't even know how or why this happened, but it's obvious from tonight that our friendship can't go back to the way it was. I think maybe we should just let things be for now. I'll… I'll call you in a few weeks and…we'll see."

Serena started to stand, her voice final and her posture resigned. Kelly tried one last time to clarify, half rising from her own seat, but she couldn't keep the frustration out of her voice and her tone was harsher than she'd intended.

"That's taking things a little far, don't you think? You didn't even let me finish, and you're completely misunderstanding what I'm trying to say."

Serena shook her head, her carefully controlled poise—so impressive in court and yet so devastating to Kelly at this moment—clearly reasserting itself in every aspect of her demeanor.

"No. I think I understand perfectly. Good luck with Kibre. I hear she's a handful. I'm sure I'll see you around."

Kelly felt like screaming, like taking Serena in her arms and not letting go until the other woman listened. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes, and she did the only thing she could do in the crowded restaurant without causing a scene. Standing up fully, she reached out and grabbed Serena's wrist just as the ADA was walking away.

Serena turned sharply, clearly ready to shake off the unwanted touch, but at the sight of Kelly's glistening eyes, her expression softened for a brief, hopeful moment, before she schooled her features back to stern blankness.

"What?"

"Serena… I…"

"Serena?" Another voice from across the restaurant made both women turn their heads, two sets of eyes fixing on the petite brunette waving hesitantly from the hostess's podium. Giving the pair a bemused look, she began to make her way over to Serena, the hostess close on her heels with two menus.

Kelly let go of Serena's wrist, her arms hanging limply at her sides as the strange brunette reached Serena and enveloped her in hug, kissing her on both cheeks.

"Hi. I'm sorry I'm late. Everything all right?" She glanced over Serena's shoulder at Kelly.

"No, everything's fine. I just ran into my friend Kelly and she's been keeping me company."

Serena's tone was suddenly relaxed and friendly, belying everything that had happened in the past fifteen minutes. In fact, if Kelly hadn't been a part of the earlier tense conversation, nothing about Serena's posture or her voice would have given it away.

The other woman smiled at Kelly, reaching out her hand.

"Cynthia Preston."

"Kelly Gaffney," Kelly tried to smile, but couldn't quite shake the tremor of sadness from her voice.

"Nice to meet you."

Cynthia turned back to Serena, putting her hand on the other woman's arm in a way that bespoke at least friendly familiarity, if not something more intimate.

"Our table's on the other side of the restaurant, by the window. I'll meet you over there."

"I'm right behind you." Serena's smiled easily and Kelly's heart sank.

She turned back towards Kelly as Cynthia followed the hostess across the room.

"I have to go."

"I know."

"Kelly…"

"I can't stop thinking about you," Kelly blurted, softly, her gaze not meeting Serena's.

"Kelly…"

Kelly looked up to see Serena's mask crack ever so slightly, her lips turning into a slight frown and her eyes flitting quickly from Kelly's eyes to her lips and back again. Serena licked her lips, shut her eyes, took a deep breath, let it out slowly and then shook her head.

"Don't do this."

"I'm serious, Serena."

"So am I."

"I'm so sorry I hurt you, but…"

"I have to go."

"Serena…"

"Goodbye, Kelly."

Her mind clearly made up, Serena didn't wait for Kelly to respond before turning on her heel and walking purposefully to her table, where Cynthia sat looking curiously in their direction.

Kelly let herself sink back into her seat, her hands clenching the table cloth for a minute as she willed herself not to cry.

Then, slowly, she gathered her coat and purse, nodding towards the cash Tracey had left on the table when the server approached with their bill.

She barely heard his thanks and "have a good evening, miss," pulled on her coat, and headed out into the twilight city.

She could smell the imminence of Spring in the air and a light drizzle had started to fall. She stood on the curb, letting the drops catch in her hair and her eyelashes for a moment before she blinked them away. A taxi pulled up, and Kelly climbed in, heading reluctantly home.

(to be continued…)