I'm tempted to pinch myself, but after spilling the hot coffee, I'm pretty sure that I'm awake.

"Coffee?" I ask her, thinking that somehow she was referring to the pot I just made. Yeah, you'd never know I was a Harvard grad.

"Um, yeah, at work you mentioned coffee and I wanted to know if the offer still stands," she says, as if she has no idea the power she possesses over me.

Suddenly I'm struggling to find my voice and stumbling over my words as if I need to say anything other than 'yes.' 'Uh, sure, that definitely still sounds doable," I say, squinting at what a loser I sound like. "So do you want to meet at the Starbucks by work?"

"I was actually thinking you could come here. Lindsey's in bed, but I still need to keep an eye on her," she says, nearly stopping my heart.

"There as in your house?" I ask. Oh my fricken God, why do I speak? Of course she means her house!

Catherine slightly laughs, but doesn't speak in a demanding tone. 'Yeah, my house, if that's okay."

If that's okay? That's more than okay. That's perfect! I was hoping to grab a way too expensive cup of coffee in an over-crowded café. But one-on-one in Catherine's house, just she and I? Okay, starting to sound like a preteen again. Part of me doesn't care. Part of me thinks I should respond before Catherine hangs up.

"Yeah, that's fine. Give me directions?"

…BandofStarsThatIndicatesTimePassageHere…

After about the 9th try, I'm starting to think that my hair isn't going to work pinned up like I'd hoped. I've pulled out one of my nicer outfits (anything with lace and fringes is fancy for me), making sure to coordinate the makeup and handbag (yes, believe it or not, I do own a handbag or two). On the 10th attempt to put my hair in a bun, I realize how ridiculous this is. Catherine and I are having coffee, not going on a date. I probably shouldn't scare her by bounding in her house in an outfit totally uncharacteristic of what she's used to. It looks like I'm already pretty good at scaring her off. But then again, maybe not. If I had scared her that much, she wouldn't have called me back, right/ This is my chance for redemption, and I'm not going to blow it this time.

Still not feeling quite satisfied with my hair, I know that I'll just have to suck it up and deal, because if I take any longer, Catherine will wonder what's happened to me. I spray myself quickly with my most expensive perfume and rush out the door.

…BandofStarsThatIndicatesTimePassageHere…

My stomach has been in knots the entire car ride, and now that I'm nearing Catherine's street, part of me wants to throw the car in reverse and drive home. My head keeps running through the possible outcomes of this visit, and most of them seem to be negative.

Now that I know how much impact Catherine's general demeanor has on me, I realize that I could be setting myself up for another breakdown like earlier. At this point, I think anything less than being with her to the romantic extent which I desire is going to be practically torturous for me, and that being said, I also realize the slim likelihood of a romantic situation actually occurring between the two of us. However, more than anything I realize that for one reason or another, Catherine needs a friend right now, and being in her life in some way is better than in no way at all.

I try my best to clear my head as I ring the doorbell, immediately regretting that move out of fear of waking Lindsey, but I figure if I wasn't supposed to, Catherine would have told me so. I need to stop freaking out.

After what seems like an eternity, Catherine answers the door, a warm and welcoming smile on her face. "Sara, thanks for coming. Come on in," she says stepping aside. I already feel a lot better when I notice that she, too, has changed out of her work clothe, and in fact, is wearing something nicer than usual when on shift.

Once inside her house, which I can tell she decorated herself, I feel like I've lost all motor skills, not knowing how to move or where to go. Luckily she directs me to sit down on the couch, or else I probably would have stood there all night.

As I lean back to study the coziness of her house, she emerges from the kitchen with two coffee cups in hand. She sets mine down before me.

"Okay, light with cream and 3 Sweet 'N Low, right?" she asks.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I just remembered from a while back, I guess," she says, and I could swear she's trying to hide a blush.

I can't help smiling her way as I see how she looks even more stunning than at work, which I was sure was impossible.

She takes a deep breath as she daintily sips at her coffee and begins with an apology. "First of all, I'm sorry for my little emotional outburst at work. It was unprofessional and immature of me, and I didn't mean to offend you when I rejected your coffee offer. I just needed a little space, and I should have put it that way."

First I smile at how if what she had was an emotional outburst, mine must have been an explosion. Second, I want to reassure her that nothing was wrong with the way she acted earlier. "Catherine, you have nothing to apologize for, and I mean that. It seems like you associate emotions with weakness, and I don't think that's true. Emotions are healthy and necessary and if you don't express them every once in a while, then it all just gets bottled inside of you, and you'll feel trapped. It's okay to be scared and it's okay to cry," I say, both of us looking a little surprised at the random psychologist that has seemed to take over my words.

However, Catherine stares at me so deeply that my heart speeds up. "That's the first time someone's told me that in a while," she begins. "I mean, usually it's just the opposite. I'm reminded that I need to not get attached to people, that I need to be strong on behalf of the LVPD and for my daughter, that I can't waste the time getting emotionally involved with things and people that could distract me from getting work done. I guess it does all accumulate and I just haven't really noticed it," she pauses, and then speaks with the most sincerity I've ever heard from her, "I'm really lucky to have you to turn to now that things have piled up a little too much."

I've never wanted to hold and kiss her as much as I do right now as she not only taps into the emotions I've always known were there, but that she considers herself lucky to have me as a confidant. I restrain myself to the best of my ability and smile at her instead. "No need to thank me. Emotions just come easy to me being a huge sap and all," I say, having a slight laugh at my own expense.

"Well, how have you channeled yourself to reflect whatever it is you feel without reservation?" she asks with genuine interest.

Before I respond, I take a moment to realize how truly amazing it is to be sitting in a room with the woman I love and be discussing things like feelings and lifestyles and general well-being. I don't know how this naturally fell into place, but I'd like to think that Catherine has at least considered a friendship with me in the past, or else this wouldn't be happening at the moment. "Well, I have certain limits, of course, but basically it's just putting things into perspective. When you evaluate the outcomes of long-term emotional distress in comparison to the occasional healthy release of stress or aggression, it all becomes apparent why it's so worth it." Whenever I feel like I'm on a roll explaining something, I get a dorky, nasal sound to my voice, that I know she's picked up on, but it's sweet how she doesn't laugh or comment, just smiles softly as if she's enjoying me. "But it's also not like I have an amazing reputation or self-esteem to protect, so I guess it comes pretty easy. I mean, I don't sell tickets to let people watch me cry, but I guess I figure if anyone sees me, I can't lose a status I don't have."

"Oh, come on, Sara," she says, smiling slightly, but her voice serious. "What's so bad about you?"

When she asks this, I almost spit out my coffee, and before I can control myself, I blurt out, "I thought you'd have a few reasons of your own on that list." Immediately I regret what I've said, especially when I see the look of hurt in her eyes that she does a lousy job disguising. "I'm sorry," I say instantly, yet sincerely.

"No, you're right," she says, definitely reddening this time. "It would be an understatement to say that I've been less than gracious to you, and I'm sorry."

I can't help but forgive her on the spot the moment those wide blue eyes slightly mist up and meet mine. But while I have her here and we're on the subject, I have to know why she's shunned me away if she seems to think that I'm a decent person. I subconsciously move closer and stare at her intensely. "I guess I just don't understand why it's taken us this long to have a decent conversation. I've truly wanted to be apart of your life for a long time now, but -" and I pause, trying to phrase this tactfully, "it's been difficult."

"I know, Sara, and I really am sorry about that. We've had our issues, and emotions have run high, and again, we both know how I am with emotions. Part of me has felt scared to get close to you, and I realize that I didn't consider your feelings as much as I should have. But I can't change the past, so I guess all there is to move forward." Catherine's words and facial expressions are personal, sincere, and 100 captivating. Even though I already loved the rough and tough Catherine that I know at work, this is a side of her that I've never seen and it's one that I adore.

"Well, needless to say, you're forgiven. A toast to a new beginning?" I ask, using beginning instead of friendship out of my own wishful thinking.

She smiles that smile that melts my heart and knocks her mug against mine. "Cheers. Let me get us some more coffee."

…BandofStarsThatIndicatesTimePassageHere…

I'm not really sure how 2 hours have passed since I arrived. We've covered so many topics, from scarring experiences of the past, to embarrassing moments and funny stories. It seems that every time Catherine leaves the room and then returns, she sits closer on the couch to me. But I'm probably just imagining that. I'm having trouble trying to pinpoint the way I feel about this all. I'm excited at this new and different experience, yet everything somehow feels so relaxed and familiar all at once. I haven't had this wonderful a night for as long as I can remember.

Suddenly, our conversation is interrupted by a teary-eyed and pallid Lindsey, who enters the living room from upstairs, obviously upset.

"Lindsey, it's late, why aren't you in bed?" Catherine asks, sitting up so she is eye level with her daughter.

Lindsey's voice is small and choked up when she says, "I had a bad dream."

I'm almost brought to tears myself when I see the compassion that Catherine emotes through her eyes as she pulls her child close to her in a hug. As ridiculous as it is and sounds, part of me is jealous of this little girl. I can only imagine what it must be like to be the #1 person in Catherine Willows' life.

"Shh, Sweetheart, it's okay, it was just a dream," Catherine assures Lindsey. "Here, you sit down on the couch next to Sara, and I'll go make you some warm milk. Then we'll get you back to bed."

"I don't want to go back to sleep, I'm scared," Lindsey says, and both Catherine and I can tell that she's more shaken up than the average kid after a bad dream.

"Honey, everything's going to be okay, I promise. I'll be right back," Catherine says, disappearing into the kitchen.

Suddenly I feel a little stuck. I want to say something, but Lindsey just stares at her feet. I'm not even sure if she remembers meeting me. I don't know why she would. Looking at her at this moment, she reminds me so much of Catherine earlier that day in her office. They have the same eyes, and even though I can't tell right now, I know they have the same smile.

Something compels me to somehow lift her spirits. I move in a little closer, startling her a bit. "Lindsey, do you know what I do when I have a bad dream?"

Lindsey looks up at me, and I'm afraid of her being unresponsive. "Stay awake so that you don't have the dream again?"

I smile at both the fact that she wants to hear what I have to say and at her answer. "No. Here, I'll show you. Close your eyes," I begin, and I swear I almost jump when Lindsey slips her hand into mine before closing her eyes. "Now, what are some things that you really like?"

Lindsey pauses. "Animals. Going to the playground. My friends at school. Dancing with Mommy in the living room," she says, grinning from ear to ear. There's that smile. I can't help but smile along with her. "All right, now open your eyes. Now that you have good thoughts in your head, they'll stay with you when you go to sleep, and then your bad dream will go away."

Lindsey looks up to me and smiles and gives my hand an extra squeeze. "Thanks, Sara. I think I'm going to go back to bed now."

I only realize as Lindsey stands from the couch to head back upstairs that Catherine was standing at the door to the living room the whole time. My face immediately heats up and I hope she doesn't think I was moving in on any of her responsibilities.

"Lindsey, do you want your milk?" Catherine asks.

"No, thank you. Good night, Mom," Lindsey says, reaching up to hug Catherine.

Catherine hugs Lindsey tightly. "Good night, Sweetie. I love you."

"Love you, too," Lindsey says. She then turns to me and smiles that sweet little grin once more. "Good night, Sara."

"Sweet dreams, Lindsey. And if you get scared again, remember what we talked about," I say. She's precious.

I again feel nervous as I anticipate Catherine's reaction to my sudden bonding with her daughter. I decide to fill the silence with a compliment. "She's really adorable, and so personable, too."

Without any sort of warning, Catherine is on my side of the room and placing an unbelievably sensual kiss on my lips. I feel dizzy and warm and a rush of excitement in my stomach that I've never felt before in my life. While the kiss only lasts a second, I feel myself gripping onto her hips in order to keep myself steady. When Catherine breaks the kiss way too early, she gazes as deeply into my eyes as possible and softly says, "You are wonderful."

I try to speak… move… make noises. Nothing happens. Catherine half-smiles and goes to stand from the couch. "I'll get us some more coffee."

And that's when my brain registers that there's no way I'm going to let this moment pass. I grab her arm and pull her back down onto the couch, holding her face in my hands and kissing her deeply and passionately. Even though she kissed me first, part of me is surprised at and thrilled about the fact that she's letting me kiss her and kissing back. Her nails dig into my shoulders and drag them down my back, giving me goose bumps all over my upper body. I suck her lower lip into my mouth, and my heartbeat speeds up when I hear a slight moan trapped between us. She breaks the contact between us by sliding her tongue into my mouth, and the next thing I know, I lay down on my back, taking her with me and forgetting everything but the two of us and this moment that changed my life.