a/n: so this is one of my shortest chapters, sorry. u might hate me for it, but oh well! had to be done.

His body pressed up against hers. She let out a small moan, as she held his arms around her. It was very peaceful, sleeping together. Her hair always seemed to get in his face though. Yet, he did not mind, her hair smelt just like apples. He took one more deep breath of apples as he began to fall asleep, but Delilah's sudden jerk woke him up.

She moaned again, but it was painful this time. She tried to pull away from his grip as she tossed from side to side. Carlton did not know what to do, so he held his grip and tried to sooth her. "Delilah, wake up, you're having a nightmare."

She didn't wake up though, she kept fighting to get away. Her legs started kicking and her arms hitting whatever was in her reach. Carlton let her go and grabbed her wrist, trying to stop her from doing any damage.

"Delilah, wake up," he said, more forcefully.

She broke away from his grasp, and woke up yelling, "No!"

For a moment, she had no clue where she was. The fear that she was back there, at that moment with her monster over whelmed her. Sitting up, trying to figure out what she could use as a weapon, she was not prepared for a hand to touch her shoulder. Grabbing the hand she twisted it.

"Ow, ow, ow," Carlton cried. "Delilah, you already dislocated one shoulder, don't injure the other one."

She let go immediately, realizing what she was doing. "I'm sorry, are you all right? How's your arm? I didn't break anything, did I?"

"It's fine," he assured her. "What's wrong with you? You were having some kind of nightmare. Is everything okay?"

"Fine, just fine," she muttered, sitting up and pulling her legs close to her chest.

Carlton watched as she took several deep breaths, trying to steady herself. "You've been jumpy recently, what's going on?"

"Nothing, just a nightmare," she told him.

"Really? Because almost two months ago, during the middle of the day I nudged your arm and you pulled off some kind of karate move and dislocated my shoulder. Was that just a daymare?"

"Ha, ha," she muttered sarcastically. "Listen, it's nothing. I think I better get going though, you've probably got an early morning."

He watched as she collected her clothes from the floor, and as she paused, searching for her pants, he stated, "This is your place."

"Oh," she said softly, and sat on the corner of the bed. She was not looking at him.

"But I can go if you want me too," he suggested and started getting up.

"No, no, no," she cried and practically flung herself at him. "Don't go. It's nothing, I'm just… don't go."

"Why?"

She shrugged and glanced at the floor.

Carlton shook his head to himself. He wanted to ask her so much and he wanted her to answer him, but that would not happen. She always held back about certain details of her life. He just stopped asking.

"I think it's best if I go," he said, and pushed off the covers.

"Stay because I feel safe in your arms," she confessed softly, looking away embarrassed.

He smiled, she finally showed she was vulnerable. Crawling over to her, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her back into the bed.

"All right, I'll stay," he whispered in her ear, pulling her in even closer to his body.

"Thank you," she muttered, sighing.

They just lay there for a little while. Neither one said anything, but neither one fell asleep. After a few minutes Carlton asked, "What was the nightmare about?"

She shook her head and answered quietly, "You don't want to know."

"I asked, didn't I?" he shot back, failing to hold back his anger.

She did not reply for a moment. When she did respond, she had so much pain in her voice he was silent the rest of the night. "Trust me, you really don't want to know."

"Why won't she talk to me?" Carlton asked the next day at lunch.

She smiled, not a nice smile, a nasty smile that made Carlton uneasy. "Because cop, she thinks you don't love her, remember? You're in it for the sex."

"And why does she think that Carla?" he snapped, glaring at her.

"Well, I did put that idea in her head, but it's the truth," she defended.

"It is not the truth."

"Oh no? Could you really love her? All of her, even her past? You know she killed a lot of people? Could you truly love a murderer?"

"She's reformed," he objected, as Carla's words sunk in.

"So? It can't erase the past," she reminded him. "It can't change the fact that people know, it doesn't change what they think of her. And what would they think if they found out you were sleeping with her? You're too concerned about her past and how it affects you, that's why you can't love her."

"Well, I don't love her, so whether I can love her or not doesn't matter," he told Carla, not meeting her eyes.

"Sure, but she knows you can't love her because of her past, that's why she doesn't talk to you about it. That, and you never ask about it," Carla clarified.

Carlton scowled and played with his food, thinking about what she said. He had a lot of questions, questions he should ask Delilah, but instead he was asking her best friend.

"I want to ask, I want to ask about everything, but you should see this look she gives me when either of us even mention her past. She stops smiling, and looks so sad," he confessed. "I hate seeing her like that."

Carla huffed. "Oh please, don't get all lovey dovey on me now. You don't ask because you don't want to know. And she only looks sad because she knows how to play you. She pouts and you drop the subject. It's just a game to her. She doesn't care."

"Is it really?" he asked, frowning even worse then normal.

"I think you know the answer to that," Carla stated evasively. She took the last sip of her drink and asked sweetly, "You're gonna pick up the check, right?"

He watched her as she prepared for her night. She was using heavier then normal makeup, especially around the eyes, dulling the sparkle in her brown eyes. She pursed her lips together and then parted them. Reaching for a coral pink lipstick, Carlton wondered what she was doing. That was not the color for her, it would not flatter her. No, the red suited her the best, it was the attention seeking red that she looked truly stunning in.

"Where you going?" he questioned.

She glanced over, at the sound of his voice. She still thought he was sleeping from their afternoon delight. Smiling, she replied, "Out to dinner."

She was fiddling with her earring, when she answered. That was her tell she was nervous about something. She fiddled with things when she got uncomfortable, which was rare for her.

"Do I have to worry about some guy whisking you away?"

She stopped fidgeting. "No more then I have to worry about your relationship with your partner."

"Excuse me?" He was just gaping at her. What in the world did she mean by that?

"I think you heard me," she stated, walking across the room. She would not look at him anymore.

"You're worried about O'Hara and me?"

"I don't want to get into it right now," she told him curtly.

"Fine, tell me where you're going," he demanded, getting out of bed and following her across the room.

"Out to dinner," she supplied.

"With who?" he barked.

"None of your business," she spat.

"It is my business," he retorted, grabbing her arm.

His hands were so warm, but they still sent a chill down her spine. She wanted to so bad to just give in to his strong hold, to kiss him, hold her body against his, do anything to make him happy, but she just could not. Instead her eyes narrowed and she put on her most convincing angry face. She tried to jerk her arm away, but he held her tighter. Glowering at him, she spat, "Why is it any of your business?"

"Because we're a…" He paused, looking at her face trying to find an answer to the question what were they.

Her face didn't flatter she just continued to glare at her. "We're what? In a relationship?"

"Are we?" he asked quietly, tightening his grip on her arm without realizing it.

She yanked her arm away from his hand successfully. "No, we're not. Nowhere close. A relationship would require emotions and feelings for you. And trust me, I don't have those for you."

He sank back down to the bed, his world suddenly crashing down around him. He looked up at her, total confusion in his eyes. "None? No feelings? But… but you told me you felt safe in my arms, doesn't that count for anything?"

She paused, giving Carlton hope that she did not mean what she was saying. But then she retorted, "You're a cop, you're licensed to shoot at will, of course I would feel safe in your arms."

Her tone broke his heart. Harsh and cold, she meant what she said. He stared down at the floor, in disbelief.

She walked over to the door, completely primed for her night out. She glanced at him one more time, her heart in her throat when she saw what she did to him. Yet she was not finished. Before she left, she told him cruelly, "It's a little pathetic that you thought we were together. Show yourself out when you're done moping."