A/N: This chapter should probably have an 'M' rating. Enjoy. And I want to add a thank you for the editing help in this chapter. You know who you are, my friend.

Alex slipped into the apartment after work, and the silence bombarded her. No children, she remembered, and she missed them. She'd debated her decision to leave them overnight with her sister, but knew in her heart it would be good for them. They played endless games with Jake, and giggled and slept in sleeping bags, and Jake was very protective of his little cousins. They would be fine.

Alex wanted an uninterrupted night alone with her husband, so she could concentrate on him. She also needed to talk to Bobby about taking the kids to his mother's funeral on Saturday morning. They needed to decide if they should take the kids to all or part of the services, or get a sitter. She suspected he would have definite opinions on the subject. Alex glanced at her sleeping partner. His prescription bottle was on its side on the coffee table alongside a mostly empty glass of water and a plate with half a sandwich on it. After hanging her coat by the door, she took the plate and the glass into the kitchen and brought back fresh water.

At first she thought, with relief, that he was resting comfortably – but she should have known better. She heard him groan as she returned to the living room, and she watched as he shifted restlessly, trying to escape his pain, or his dreams, or both. His breathing was staggered, almost labored, and she knew he wasn't sleeping well. She sat on the edge of the couch beside him and laid her hand on his back. She could feel the tension in his muscles through the fabric of his damp, sweaty t-shirt. Rising onto her knee, she pressed her fingers firmly into his taut muscles and began working them, using small circular motions. Beginning at his shoulders, she worked her way down his back to his waist and then back to his shoulders. Gradually, his muscles relaxed and his breathing evened out and settled.

He stirred and murmured her name. She leaned forward and looked into his face. He half-smiled, but his eyes were sleepy and unfocused.

"Hi," he whispered.

She returned his smile and moved closer to give him a kiss. "Hi. How do you feel?"

"Good." Slowly, he rolled onto his back. He looked around, noticing the missing coats by the door. His face clouded with concern. "The kids...?"

"They're at Reggie's for the night."

"Why?"

Panic replaced the fog in his brain. Why wouldn't she bring the children home? He pushed himself onto his elbows. She read his anxiety and gently rubbed his chest. "It's okay. I just wanted to spend the night alone, just you and me."

"Why?" he repeated.

His mind really was cloudy. In response, she leaned over and brushed her lips over his. "Let's go to bed," she whispered against his mouth.

He pulled her back to him. "Comfortable here," he murmured.

She smiled. "I'll make you really comfortable there."

"Promise?"

She pressed her lips more firmly against his, teasing him with her tongue as she played with the waistband of his sweats. When she rubbed her hand over him, he caught his breath and groaned, arching into her hand. "Come on," she coaxed, moving away from him.

He sat up and the room tilted and spun. He waited for it to settle. It took two attempts to get his knee to support his weight, so when he reached the bedroom door, his eyes were glazed, reflecting his pain, his skin moist from the exertion.

"Al-Alex?" She was nowhere in sight.

"I'll be right out," she promised from the direction of the closet.

The room started spinning again and his knee burned as he limped to the bed. With relief, he dropped on to the welcoming mattress. Slowly, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. He laid back and closed his eyes, still dizzy and resenting it and the medicine that caused it.

His breathing slowly calmed as the pain faded and the vertigo eased. He couldn't relax and he found himself longing for Alex's fingers and the magic they could perform on his tight muscles. His body thrummed with arousal as his mind continued to wander over what else her beautiful fingers could do to him. He felt much better about their relationship now, although he still resented being forced into discussing things he preferred to keep private. But he was afraid that if he had remained stubborn, refusing to talk to her once again, he would have lost her, once and for all. If he lost her – he would have lost everything.

In the closet, Alex stripped out of her clothes and dug in the back for a small bag she had hanging on a hook in the far corner. Opening it, she pulled out a black lace teddy she bought after Molly was born. It was something she bought to feel attractive again after bearing another baby. Now she just wanted to reassure him, to let him know that they were okay and she still wanted him as much as she ever did. She also needed to let him know she forgave him, and words were often inadequate to him. She stepped into a pair of black heels that she knew he loved, and walked out of her hiding place.

When her cool hands began to caress his warm skin, he groaned softly. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and he stared at her, stunned. He tipped his head to the right, and his mouth moved, but no words came out. In the end, all he could only stare mutely and blink.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

He didn't answer. He couldn't think, but his body spoke for him. Reaching out, he fingered the lace where it gathered at her waist. His hand moved up to cup a full, firm breast, teasing her nipple and wishing he had the use of both hands. He stretched to give the same attention to her other breast. When she closed her eyes, he trailed his fingers in a line away from the fullness of her chest, over her belly and down between her legs. With a gasp, she moved closer.

He murmured her name as he abandoned his fondling long enough to pull her down on top of him. He rolled onto his side, pinning her by draping his leg over hers, and he resumed his caressing. He placed tender kisses along her jaw to her ear, which he nipped and sucked.

She groaned and began to thrash, briefly wondering when she'd lost the upper hand. After that, a warm buzzing filled her head as her hips took on a life of their own, thrusting against his hand. She turned and pushed her tongue against his mouth, moaning when he sucked it past his lips. Her hand caressed his stomach, roaming over warm skin, pushing past his waistband. There she found his solid length; she gripped him firmly and began to stroke, regaining some control.

Her hand moved rhythmically from base to tip and down again, setting his body on fire. His breath hitched as his pulse throbbed. The pressure spiraled, out of control, and he turned suddenly, desperate to be inside her. When he moved, spasms of pain seized his hip and knee, but he continued, succumbing to the more urgent demands of his body.

Alex molded her hands to his chest, shoved him onto the bed and knelt above him. She yanked his pants over his hips, straddled him and smiled as she settled against him. He gasped, squeezed his eyes shut and fell back against the bed. Her small hand found his thick member and she pressed it on her wet center. When she wriggled her hips against it, he groaned -- but then she stopped moving.

When he covered her small hand with his large one to guide him to her center, her hips jerked and pulled away. He groaned and she moved again, getting closer, teasing and tempting them both. He gripped her left hip, but she refused to move closer. She was not ready to give him what he wanted just yet.

Watching her slender fingers curl around his sex, he wanted to pull her hand away and bury himself deep into her warm body, but he'd wait, he'd let her set the pace. He grinned and pressed his thumb into the soft skin where her leg met her hip, knowing that this ticklish spot drove her crazy.

Her eyes widened. "Don't you dare," she warned.

He wriggled his eyebrows and thrust into her warm palm. She lowered her eyebrows stubbornly and he pressed his thumb more firmly into her. She started to move away from his hand, but he gripped her firmly and caressed her. She squealed and struggled half-heartedly, but his strength held her. Her squirming body slid teasingly against his erection and the sweet noises she made fed his need for her.

She fell on him and he embraced her, kissing her face tenderly. "Please," he whispered.

"Please, what?" she purred.

"Please…" And he reached between them and covered her hand with his. "I want you." His voice was heavy with desire.

Their eyes connected and the need in his ignited the passion in her blood; she lifted her hips and let him guide his rigid member into her surging heat. She eased down on him, never taking her eyes off his, but biting her lip as her body stretched and trembled to accommodate his size. She felt his hand curl around her hip, gently encouraging, and she braced herself before thrusting her hips and filling her core with the shattering pleasure of his flesh. She lost control, shouted his name before sinking her teeth in his shoulder,

Bobby lost himself in the exquisite feelings that surrounded him, deeply embedded in his wife's welcoming heat. And when he thought he could take no more, she started to move, making love to him, knowing what he needed. Her fingers massaged and soothed him while her hips rocked back and forth, slowly at first, and then increasing speed and intensity. They both were panting and kissing, and she was wet and wild and he was hot and hard and about to explode and she was nearly there when she suddenly gripped his shoulders and came, crying out, Oh mygodBobby….

With a sudden surge of strength he pushed his hips and plunged into her, impossibly hard and deep, three times, enough to make her shout again, and cause his world to turn to flame and the sweet release of a strong climax.

Breathing hard, she lay on top of him as her body calmed. She felt his heart settle from the wild pounding that accompanied his release to its normal solid thrumming. Wriggling playfully, she slid off him and nestled into his side. Lightly, she stroked his chest. He sighed softly. "Sleepy?" she asked,

"Mmn-hmn," he answered.

"Can we talk for a minute before you go to sleep?"

"Mmn-hmn," he repeated.

"About the funeral."

He shifted and she felt the tension crawl back into his muscles. "You don't want to go," he said.

"Calm down," she cooed, forcing herself to be patient. Teasing the hair on his chest made it easier for her not to snap at him. "Of course I'm going to go. But I'm not sure it's the best thing for the kids to be there."

"Okay. You explain that to Maggie."

He had a point. Their oldest would insist on attending, wanting to tell Gramma good-bye and needing to be with her father. She was still too young to understand what had happened, but she knew that Gramma wasn't coming back. Alex chewed on her lower lip while he watched her. "Do you really think a funeral Mass and graveside ceremony will be too much for her, Alex?" he asked. "Because...I don't. I think she'll be fine. She was there when Mom died...and she handled it better than I did. Tommy's too young to know what's going on, and I think he'll be okay, too. I don't think he should go to the funeral home tomorrow night, but the Mass on Saturday...I think that'll be okay. Besides, anyone we trust with them will be at the funeral."

He was more coherent than he'd been earlier, she noticed. She continued trailing her fingers over his chest. She kissed his jaw. "That makes sense. All right. We'll bring them with us. As for tomorrow night...an open casket wake..." She shook her head. "I don't think Maggie should go, either. Carolyn has already agreed to watch all three of them so Mike and I can go along with you."

He nodded, agreeing. "That's fine"

That went well, she mused. She wasn't sure the next subject would, though. "Are you going to try to find Frank?"

He folded his left arm behind his head and studied the ceiling. She nestled her head into the hollow of his shoulder and settled her leg on his, stroking his stomach. "Bobby," she said softly, trying to sound reasonable. "You have to at least try. You have to let him know, and then it will be on him whether he shows up or not. Take that much off yourself."

"I don't have to try," he murmured.

She misunderstood him for a moment, then she raised her head to look at his face. "You know where he is."

"I know where he was two months ago. He's probably still there."

She had always left him alone about his relationship with his brother. It was what it was and she knew he was not inclined to mess with it. She also understood his reluctance to bring him into the sphere of their lives. She wasn't sure she wanted their children exposed to him, either. But if he was going to turn up, she would be certain to lay down the law with him. What went on between him and Bobby was one thing. What went on between him and the children, if anything, was something else entirely.

"Do you have a number for him?"

Slowly, he nodded. "In the top drawer of my desk."

She slid out of the bed and he watched her cross the room to the desk. She returned with the slip of paper on which he'd written Frank's number. He reached out and bypassed the paper, running his fingers over her waist and down along her bare hip and thigh. She stepped back, but she was smiling. Thrusting the paper into his hand, she said, "Call your brother."

He watched her grab her robe and slip into it. Thick and warm, she called it her 'comfort' robe. "I'll be right back."

She wanted to give him privacy for the call, but she had also seen the glaze of pain in his eyes, felt the heat in his knee as the inflammation flared again. So while he called Frank, she went into the kitchen for a glass of water, retrieving both of his prescription bottles before she returned to the bedroom.

Bobby sat up, looked at the number in his hands and blinked his eyes. It took a minute for his vision to clear enough for him to make out the numbers. He was not improving as quickly as he wanted to, dammit. Halfway through dialing, the number blurred again and he had to start over. Swearing, he slammed the phone in its cradle as Alex came back into the room. Concerned, she asked, "What did Frank say?"

Balling the paper, he threw it on the floor and the phone followed it. Alex stopped, watching him lay back and turn onto his side. She walked to the bedside, set the medicine and the glass on the table and sat beside him, stroking his hair. "What is it?" she asked.

He sighed, curling into her and bringing his head to rest on her thigh. "I couldn't make out the number," he answered. "My vision...won't clear long enough...for me to make the call."

"Is this...new?" she asked, trying to swallow her fear.

He shook his head. "No."

"You didn't say anything to the doctor about it."

"It'll get better. I'm not seeing double any more...most of the time. It's improving."

She kissed his temple. "I'll dial for you."

When he didn't argue, she moved and he rolled onto his back. Handing him the receiver, she dialed the number and crossed the room to put the paper back in his desk drawer. She sat in the chair at the desk and watched him talk to his brother.

Bobby knew when Frank answered that he was high, and he deliberated hanging up without saying anything. But with Alex sitting there watching him, he knew he had to make an attempt. "Hey, it's me."

"Bobby! What have you been up to?"

"I'm not calling to catch up, Frank. I...I have to tell you...Mom...Mom died Sunday night."

The silence on the other end was not reassuring. He heard the quiet rasp of a lighter. Shit. "Frank?"

"I heard you, little brother."

"The funeral...is Saturday, at the church near Carmel Ridge."

"So you called me before you buried her."

Bobby's jaw clenched and his hand tightened over the receiver. "You can be there or not. It's up to you. But you should know...she missed you every day until the day she died."

He hung up the phone and reached out to set it on the nightstand, missing it and knocking over the water glass. "Aw, fuck!"

Alex crossed the room, placing a hand on his arm as she righted the glass and picked up the phone. The call had not gone well; she could tell. He rolled onto his back and she cleaned up the water, refilling the glass.

She didn't say a word as he gathered her into his arms, letting him pull her down beside him. Slipping under the blankets, she nestled close and he pressed his head against her chest. Stroking his hair, she didn't fuss about the medicine. He tightened his arms around her, holding her close as she rubbed his back and kissed his head.

Gradually, his hold loosened and his breathing became deep and regular. She wondered if Frank would show up on Saturday, and if he did, how Bobby would handle it. A small part of her hoped Frank would make an appearance to say good-bye to his mother, but the bigger part of her hoped the elder brother would stay away and spare his younger brother the pain.