It had been that kind of week. Kurt and Diane had kissed goodbye Monday morning, expecting to be home together that evening, but as always seems to happen, one catastrophe led to another, and before they knew it, it was Friday and they'd spent yet another week apart. No matter how many times they said it wouldn't happen again, they'd try harder the next time, make their marriage a priority, some client, some crisis, some force majeure always seemed to dash their good intentions.

The plan had been for Diane to drive out the farm after work Friday evening, but then the defendant in a test case for a class action she's working on agreed to settlement talks. When, at 9:00 pm, they're still making slow progress, she ducks out to phone Kurt.

"I don't know how long this is going to take. I could be here half the night. I'll come out first thing in the morning, and make you breakfast, I promise. Ha-ha, very funny, Kurt. Yes, I know where the fire extinguisher is. You know, I did manage to feed myself for many years before I met you. Okay. Good night, I love you too. Bye. "

She curses softly as she hangs up the phone. He had tried to hide it, but he's disappointed. So is she, honestly. Why is it always something?

To Diane's immense surprise, the other side settles almost immediately after the break. She doesn't know what happened, what new information they had acquired in the short time she was on the phone, but she'll put Kalinda on it first thing Monday. There is still the class action settlement to negotiate next week.

In the meantime, she has somewhere to be.

An hour later, she pulls into the driveway at the farm. Parking her car beside Kurt's truck, she gets out and glances from house, to barn, and back. There are no lit windows anywhere, so she walks to the house and lets herself in. Kurt probably went to bed shortly after their phone call. He wouldn't have thought there any reason to wait up, and he's normally asleep by ten when left to his own devices.

She hangs her coat in the closet and goes directly to the kitchen for a glass of water. The room is as tidy and spotless as always; the only thing out of place is an unopened bottle of wine and two glasses sitting on the counter by the sink.

"Damn," she swears. He'd been planning something and she, once again, had spoiled it.

Except, she thinks, brightening, maybe it isn't too late. He can't have been asleep that long, and she knows her husband. He doesn't mind being woken for a good cause.

She sets her water glass in the sink and goes into the adjoining laundry room.Please let them still be there, she wishes silently.

And they are. Hanging on a drying rack are several pieces of lingerie she'd hand washed last weekend and left to dry. Snatching up a short, silky, black slip from the rack, she takes it to the bathroom to change.

After checking the results in the mirror and finding herself passable, she steps back into her black heels, messes her hair a bit, detours to the kitchen to grab the wine and glasses, and creeps silently up the stairs.

In the hall outside their closed bedroom door, she flicks on the light in the room opposite to provide a bit of backlighting, then eases open the door.

The creak of the door and the sudden influx of light rouses Kurt, and she watches as he rubs his eyes and then rises up on one elbow. His jaw drops open when he sees her standing there.

"Hi honey," she says. "I'm home."