He watches her in confusion as she eats his eggplant lasagna. It only adds to his list of her questionable behaviors. She eats slowly, hoping that he'll go away. He doesn't. When she's finished she takes the container into the kitchen. She turns on the faucet.

"Mac you don't have to wash it right now. Can you come back in here, please?"

She fills the container with warm soapy water. She scrubs the container until it's spotless. She rinses the container and dries her hands on a dishtowel. She returns to the living room. He sits on one end of the couch. She chooses to sit on the other.

"What do you want to talk about, Harm?"

"We need to talk about what happened between us."

"Okay," she agrees.

"It was a mistake."

She stares at him, silently. She feels her heart sink. She vows that she won't cry. Until just now she had considered telling him. She takes a deep breath, and nods.

"You're absolutely right. This was all a huge mistake."

"I'm sorry," he apologizes.

"So am I," she swallows hard.

"How do we fix this?"

She shrugs, "I don't know if we can."

"Can we go back?"

She shakes her head, "There is no going back."

"We still have to be colleagues. We have to figure something out."

"Maybe it would be best if we weren't."

He furrows his brow, "What do you mean?"

"Maybe we shouldn't be colleagues anymore," she replies.

"Mac don't make a hasty decision."

She purses her lips, "I've been thinking about it for some time," she admits.

"What are you saying?"

"I am going to ask to be reassigned."

"Sarah, I don't think that is necessary. We can work it out. We always have in the past."

"This time is different," she argues, refusing to reveal the truth.

"When are you going to stop running from your problems?"

"I am not running from anything."

"Are you sober?"

"Why do you always come back to that?"

"Because you haven't been yourself for months. You are acting totally out of character, and it is the only conclusion that I can come to."

"It's the wrong conclusion."

"Is it?"

"You don't know anything about what is going on in my life," she raises her voice.

"And whose fault is that? How could I know anything about your life when you shut me out?"

"You're my colleague. You don't have the right to know anything about me other than what goes on when we're at work."

"That is cold even for you, Mac. What is really going on here?"

"You're an idiot."

"Why won't you just talk to me?"

"You don't listen."

"I am listening to you right now."

"There is a difference between hearing, and listening."

"What do you want me to say? What can I do to fix this?"

"Why can't you understand? You can't fix this."

"Please," he begs.

She falls silent. He studies her facial expression.

"You're no different than anyone else who came before you," she responds.

"You know that isn't true. The problem is that you are afraid of commitment."

"I am tired of being hurt."

"Sarah, please."

"Stop calling me that," she growls.

"It's your name."

"Harm I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend that what happened didn't. I wish that I could. Every single day I wish that you hadn't showed up here. I wish that you had stayed with Renee."

"You don't mean that," her words hit him like daggers.

"Please, just go."

"Why won't you talk to me?"

"I can't talk to you anymore. I don't trust you."

"Please tell me how I can fix this."

"You can't fix this. It is obvious that what happened meant nothing to you."

"That's not true."

"Then why did you walk away?"

"I told you that we needed to take our time."

"Our time is up," she directs him to the door.

He leaves the apartment feeling more confused than when he arrived.

The distance between them only grows over the next couple of weeks. She pushes him farther, and farther away with each passing day.

She sits in an exam room with a paper dress on. She marvels at the originality of the paint choice in this room. It is more reminiscent of split pea soup green. She shifts her glance to her toenails. They are a dark shade of red. The fluorescent bulbs hit the white tile floor, making them shine. The colors in this exam room are different, but it feels the same as all the others. The same five posters are mounted on the wall. The doctor enters the room, and saves her from contemplating the decorative choices any further. He goes through a million questions. Eventually he moves onto his exam. She doesn't count the ceiling tiles, or fixate on his furry eyebrows this time. She keeps her attention directed at the screen. He grins.

"You're sure that you want to know?"

"Yes," she nods.

"I think that you're going to have to come up with a name better than little nugget for her."

"Her?"

He smiles widely, "It's a girl."

She slips into her office twenty three seconds late. The sound of someone clearing their throat causes her to look up. She finds Commander Rabb standing in front of her desk with his arms folded against his chest.

"Can I help you?"

"You're late."

"Twenty three seconds," she confirms with a nod.

"Where were you?" He interrogates her.

"I don't have to answer that," she responds.

"The more you refuse to answer my questions the more suspicious I get."

"I don't have to answer to you," she reminds him.

"Just tell me where you were."

She rolls her eyes, "If you must know I was at a dentist appointment."

"Really? You've been having a lot of those lately."

"Would you like to see the EOB's from my insurance?"

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Whatever it is, is absolutely none of your business. If I thought that you needed to know you would."