Sophie walked as quickly as she could across the ice-covered sidewalks, her arms crossed in front of her chest as she wished she had chosen a heavier jacket. Maybe she should've taken the car and let Bobby walk. No, she needed the fresh air and the club wasn't too far from the house so it wasn't too long of a walk, just enough to suit her needs.

Almost 10 years spent working undercover, Sophie knew the sacrifices that had to be made; the events that had to be missed; parties and weddings… funerals. It was unfair but it was the territory that came with the work. Sophie reached the house and unlocked the door. She had already forgotten what it was like to come back to a dark, empty house.

"It's only been three days," she chided herself while sitting down on the stairs to unzip her knee-high boots. The walk in the snow managed to numb her feet. That was exactly where Bobby found her when he returned to the house about ten minutes later.

"Hi," he greeted quietly, sitting down next to her on the stairs.

"How's Eames?"

"She's going to be okay. They were chasing a suspect and his buddy got the jump on her, knocked her down a flight of stairs. A mild concussion as far as they can tell."

"I'm glad she's okay."

Silence fell between them.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?"

"Don't know. Sat down to take off my boots and didn't feel like getting up again."

"This has happened before? Being undercover and needing to be somewhere else?"

"Yeah. A few times. My aunt who took care of me died and I couldn't go to the funeral because I was in California helping on a case. Then there was David, we worked in the same office at the Bureau and he was—he was my fiancé," she sighed. "He was shot and killed during a raid on a warehouse."

Bobby was surprised, he wasn't expecting her to open up so much. He suddenly said a thanks to God that Eames was going to be okay, that he wouldn't have to shoulder the guilt Sophie still carried. Silently he put an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry about what I said before," Sophie rested her head against him.

"You didn't know, it's fine."

"I'm sorry about your fiancé."

"It's been six years."

"Doesn't make it hurt less."

"No, but it gets easier after a while," Sophie took a deep breath then sat up. "How'd your chat with Eddie go?"

"I scared him, but he seemed pretty calm considering that I didn't mention the cameras."

"Probably thinks he got away with it. I'm sure he'll break in again when they find out we closed the vents." They fell into silence again. "I'm going to bed."

Wordlessly Sophie leaned over and pressed a kiss to Bobby's temple before standing to climb the stairs. She was about to head up when she felt Bobby's hand take her own and pull her back towards him. Sophie found herself leaning in to kiss him. A slow, light brushing of the lips that quickly morphed into something that could easily be described as primal. His mouth was fierce against hers; he bit at her lower lip before his tongue ventured out to find hers. Sophie felt Bobby's free hand move to cradle the back of her head, pulling her closer as her arms snaked around his neck.

"Bobby—," she managed when they pulled apart for air. He looked down at her to find that she was unbothered by his bold actions. She sat back down as the two made the mutual decision to add this kiss to the many they were not talking about.

"I'm going to lock up," Bobby announced suddenly, standing up and walking back towards the kitchen. Sophie remained seated, listening as he walked from room to room, checking that everything was secure.

"Bed?" He asked. She just nodded as he held out a hand to help her up. They stayed hand in hand until reaching the bedroom where Sophie pulled away and disappeared into the bathroom while Bobby changed and climbed into bed. He was exhausted and, much like Sophie, conflicted over the feelings that he was fighting. This wasn't supposed to be anything, merely a job, and a means to the end of Nicole.

Sophie returned to the bedroom in her pajamas and gracefully slid between the sheets, taking the open space next to Bobby. Without hesitation she rolled onto her side and curled up with him, resting her head on his chest while he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. This was how they fell asleep, both knew without speaking that this was what they both needed tonight, close, uncomplicated human contact.

What they didn't know was that across town Charles had just settled into bed when the ringing of the doorbell forced him downstairs.

"You're early," Charles barked, standing back so the person could come in.

"Right on time, actually."

A gunshot echoed in the entranceway, Charles fell to the floor in a heap as blood began to seep through his silk pajamas and onto the hardwood floor. This was how he was found the next morning, dead.