A/N: This is a monster of a chapter. Perhaps the longest I've ever written. Plot and Normero and somehow I totally underestimated how many words it would take to tell it all. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you, as always, for your lovely reviews. As to my 'special guest reviewer': I agree with everything you said about the Norma/Dylan relationship and suppose that you will like this chapter, too. ;) And yay to crazy long comments.

Oh, and Happy Easter everyone!

The usual disclaimer applies.

When Dylan enters the kitchen in the morning, he finds Norman making tea. There is a tablet with a cup, a buttered toast on a plate and one single flower in a vase standing on the table. Norma is nowhere to be seen. It's day four after Dylan knocked on Norma's door. After their fight, the premise was that he would stay only for one night, but so far she hasn't asked him to leave and therefore he is still there. He has nowhere else to go, and despite their falling-out, this is his family.

"Morning. Where's Norma?" Dylan asks. He and Norman are not on friendly terms, but the open hostility Norman displayed in the beginning seems to have made way for some kind of acceptance that he is living with them as long as it's temporarily.

"She's still asleep. Mother doesn't feel so good lately," Norman replies.

There it is. Mother. Dylan used to ridicule him for calling her that. The truth is, though, that it's just another reminder that Norman and Norma have a special bond whereas he will always be the fifth wheel.

"Is she sick?" Dylan senses that Norman would like to ignore him, but here he is, right in the space Norma and his brother had claimed for themselves before he arrived.

Norman seems to consider something. "She is… kind of beside herself sometimes," he then states.

"What do you mean?" Norma being beside herself is not new information. If you applied normal standards, Dylan would say his mother is beside herself half of the time. At least.

"She… Sometimes she loses time, doesn't remember what she did while she was… out." The subject is clearly bothering Norman. He seems to be equally reluctant and relieved to share this with him since there is for sure no one else he could share it with. They are family after all, now matter how estranged.

"What do you mean losing time? Like blackouts?"

Norman shrugs. "Something like that. Yeah."

"Did she see a doctor?"

This upsets Norman. "No, she didn't. How could she see a doctor if we have no medical insurance? Do you have any idea how expensive that is? You seem to think we have a lot of money because we got..." He gulps. "...the money from my father's insurance, but it's almost used up since we bought the motel and payed for the renovation. And thanks to you, we might lose it all now." Norman has talked himself into a rage, raising his voice more and more, the muscles of his neck emerging.

"Norman, calm down," Dylan tries to appease him. "I already told Norma I'm sorry. I didn't know they would review the case only because I said that Norma needed the money to get away from Sam." Norma's former husband, Sam Bates. Needless to say that Dylan's apology didn't impress Norma, let alone caused her to forgive him. They both knew he was whitewashing the facts. He was angry and didn't give a shit about what would happen to his mother and brother when he told the insurance company that. And now there is an official investigation. So Norma merely listened to his words and then continued whatever she had been doing before as if he hadn't said anything at all.

"Yeah. You thought they'd just give you some money. That was stupid." Norman does that thing where he starts to twitch and fidget because he is so upset. It has always annoyed Dylan, but he doesn't want to add fuel to the fire by pointing it out to him.

Dylan sniffles. "It was," he gives in instead.

He could knock Norman down easily. It's that knowledge that allows him to be generous once in a while even though Norman's words sting because they suggest Norman is the cleverer one of them. Well, maybe he is. Norman always had the better grades while Dylan won more fights in the schoolyard and everywhere else. He fought a lot as a kid actually. All the anger had to go somewhere and it was better not to be at home, anyway, where his mother tried to build a fake paradise for her and his brother while her new husband alternated between spending his money for gambling and whores or drinking himself into oblivion, both inciting him to brutally batter whoever passed by.

Norman seems to be surprised by his rather reasonable reaction and calms down a bit.

"So what is she doing to get better? Just wait it out?" Dylan asks. Reasonable only goes so far.

In an instant, Norman is back to twitching and fidgeting. "I think so. What else is she supposed to do? And I'm doing whatever I can to help her. It's only the two of us. No one has ever helped us." Norman is close to tears, but Dylan is far from feeling any compassion. He hates when either Norma or Norman rub his nose in the fact that he never has played an important role in his mother's life. In anyone's life really.

"So what are you going to do if the blackouts get worse? Lock her up so that she can't run around and do some stupid shit she won't remember afterwards?"

Norman hesitates for a moment. "Maybe."

Dylan can't believe it. That kid is just as crazy as their mother. "Norman, you can't be serious." Then another idea crosses his mind. "Wait! Did something already happen?"

Norman's entire posture tenses. "I have no time for this." He pours tea in the cup and grabs the tablet. "I have to bring mother her breakfast and then go to school."

"Norman, wait!" Dylan tries to hold him back, but his brother is already out of the door, walking up the stairs to their mother's room.

Alex stares at the piece of paper.

Did the person in question commit a crime in your precinct?

Is the person in question subject of preliminary proceedings in your precinct?

Have there been any kind of incidents since the person in question moved to your precinct that imply that he or she could be violent or a risk to society in any way?

Norma killed Keith Summers, but it was self-defense. Matt Weary was interested in Norma, but she apparently didn't know him or had any contact to him other than when she bought the books.

Alex's eyes wander over to the pile of paperwork on his desk. Somewhere in there is the result of the pathological examination. Matt Weary drowned. Someone had slit his throat shortly before though. When his car rolled into the lake and slowly sank to its bottom, he was already bleeding to death. In the end it was only a question of seconds what would have killed him first. Whoever made the clean cut was right-handed and had most likely been in the car with him before someone released the brakes so that it rolled into the lake. The car was parked at the shore; you had a beautiful view from there. The fact that Matt Weary obviously didn't suspect anything would happen to him as well as the place the car was parked suggested that it could have been a date. They traced back that he must have been there during his lunch break. Matt Weary was straight. Therefore he might have been with a woman. Norma is right-handed, but there is no DNA evidence. Either the perpetrator took care of it or the water washed it away. They didn't detect the murder weapon at the crime scene either, a large knife to carve meat or fillet fish you could find in many households, as probably in Norma Bates'. He didn't check. Since there is no DNA evidence and Norma has no motive; it simply made no sense.

He remembers her reaction. Norma is worried about something in the context of Matt Weary's death, but Alex caught no vibe from her that would have made him suspect she had been involved in killing him. And Norma is worried that the insurance company reviews her husband's death and that there is even an official investigation now but only because she fears she could lose the money and won't be able to take care of her son anymore.

Despite his observations and his instinct, there is the chance, though, that he is wrong. Totally, utterly wrong. Blinded by Norma Bates' beauty and remarkable personality. She could be a cold-blooded serial killer. Alex rubs his eyes. He is tired. And biased. It is probably a bad idea to let the same person fill out the form who kissed the person in question only four days ago.

He ticks off no three times, signs the form, stands up and opens the door of his office.

"Clark!" he addresses the young deputy who has only been with them for two weeks now.

"Yes, Sir!" The young man jumps up immediately.

"Fax this to the Arizona PD. They're waiting for it. And if they have any questions, put the call through to me, ok?"

"Yes, Sir!" Overeager as he almost whips the form out of Alex's hand.

Trust me. Suddenly Norma's voice is in his head, but no matter what he just did for her and for whatever reasons, he realizes that he doesn't.

Pain in her lower abdomen, sudden and intense. Her head being smashed on a flat, cold surface. More pain. A heavy body pressing her down. And then, the roles reversed. A sweaty, smelly body below her. Blood, lots of blood.

Change of location. Screaming in another room. Two voices. A thump. Then silence. She wants to get there, needs to get there, but she can't, an exhaustion beyond anything she has ever experienced weighing her down.

Another change of location. She is trapped, can't move, a hand forcing hers. To do what? She wants to get away, but the moment she becomes aware of this, the thought is gone, every coherent reaction impossible, her motor abilities non-existent.

Norma wakes up with a gasp. It's the same nightmare, over and over. The only difference are the details. She suspects those are memories of her blackouts, at least partly. Her imagination might try to fill in the blanks, lead her to believe something took place that didn't in actual fact. As dreams are, however, they never make enough sense so as to allow her to understand what happened. She startles when there is a knock on the door.

"Mother? I've got your tea." Norman comes in, putting the tablet down on her nightstand. "How are you feeling?"

She sighs. "I had another bad dream."

"I'm so sorry, mother." Norman bends over to kiss her on the forehead. "I've got to go to school, but..." He hesitates. "...I can stay if you need me."

"No." Norma shakes her head while she intertwines their fingers, sending contradictory messages as always. "Go to school. I'm fine."

They both know she's not, but this is how it works. She keeps pretending and he plays along. Norman holds his mother's hand on his way out until she can't reach him anymore with her outstretched arm and has to let go.

Norma drinks some tea, lies back and listens to Norman leaving the house, the familiar, domestic sounds soothing her. She is so tired, the overall situation draining her. The blackouts, the investigation, the fact that Dylan is living with them. They moved to start over and now it feels as if everything is falling apart once more. She closes her eyes and drifts off into sleep again.

When she wakes up, she feels queasy. Norma almost doesn't make it to the bathroom before she gets sick. Afterwards she remains kneeling in front of the toilet because she can't get up by her own efforts, her body weakened, her hands slipping off the cold porcelain until someone pulls her in an upright posture.

"I've got you."

Two strong hands holding her upright. Dylan. She forgot that he was there, left the bathroom door open. He must have heard her or seen her when he went by.

The moment she is standing, Norma feels dizzy again. It would be easier if this was Norman; she would have no trouble leaning into him. But this is Dylan and she doesn't want to. So she reaches out, blindly fumbling around in order to find something else to hold on to, grasping air until she gives in and slumps against her son's chest. It's awkward. They haven't hugged in years, Norma can't even remember the last time, and now this.

She hears water running and then he wipes last traces of her nausea off her mouth with a towel. It feels secure and embarrassing and so much more that Norma can't even begin to cope with it.

"Think you can walk?" he asks, and despite the buzzing in her ears and her blurry vision, she nods.

Dylan puts one of her arms around his shoulders and clasps her waist to support her. Somewhere at the back of her mind Norma realizes she didn't even put on a robe, is only wearing one of her flimsy chemises, his hand warm through the thin fabric. It makes the situation and their close proximity even more awkward. The few steps to her bedroom seem to take them forever as she struggles along. When Norma half plonks herself down on her bed and he half drops her, there is a clanking sound.

"Oh shit," Dylan says. "I knocked over the rest of your tea." She drank not all of it. Norman always makes sure she gets an extra large cup.

She doesn't care about the tea. All Norma wants is to get warm again, but even covering herself with a blanket is a task she is not up to. Again Dylan steps in, his hands replacing hers as he pulls the blanket over her, a worried expression reflected on his face he hides the moment he notices she is looking at him. Dylan straightens himself.

"I'll wipe up the tea and I'll... You need sugar. Energy. I'll get you something. You...um, you're way too thin, Norma. I could feel your ribs when I...um…" Even through the haze of her dizziness Norma is aware that Dylan is talking way too fast, trying to cover up that he doesn't know how to cope with the situation and their sudden closeness either. "I'll get you something."

And with this he is gone, leaving Norma to drift off into sleep once more. No nightmares this time, and when she wakes up, the nausea is not as bad anymore. There is a bottle of lemonade on her nightstand. It's not her taste; the idea, however, that Dylan must have bought it for her leads Norma to take a sip. Whatever unhealthy, sugary content is in it, it actually makes her feel better. Maybe she should switch to lemonade and give up tea.

And she does save that she doesn't tell Norman about it because it would make him feel as if she preferred Dylan all of a sudden. It's weird. Norma knows that both of her sons consider their living conditions a temporary arrangement and so did she. But ever since Dylan helped her when she was sick, it feels different to have him around, like something she could get used to even though she is still mad at him for causing the investigation regarding Sam's death and endangering their basis of existence in the process.

So Norma pours away the tea and drinks the lemonade instead that keeps magically appearing on her nightstand, a symbol of the new relationship between her and her firstborn, wherever it will take them.

Some days pass by without nausea or blackouts. Norma feels much better, healthy even, as if everything that happened was just a bad dream. She is just folding laundry, humming happily along to an old song playing in the background when she hears Dylan and Norman come down the stairs. It sounds as if they are arguing, an assumption that is confirmed as soon as they are in the hallway and she is able to hear them more clearly.

How could you do that? She recognizes Norman's angry voice. You know she's not well. She has to…

Come on, Norman, Dylan interrupts him. You don't have the exclusive rights to take care of our mother.

There is a pause. Then she hears Norman's voice again, much angrier than before, but he tries to keep it in check. You might be living here, Dylan. Norman spits his brother's name as if he swallowed poison. But stay out of our business.

Jesus, Norman, calm down! It's just lemonade.

What? They are fighting about the lemonade? Norman must have found out that Dylan buys it for her. It was to be expected sooner or later. Yet, this is ridiculous and has to stop. Norma steps into the hallway. They both turn around to face her when they become aware of her presence. At least Dylan has the decency to look a little embarrassed whereas Norman is still too angry to get rid of his smug expression.

"What's going on here?" Norma asks, pretending she doesn't already know.

"Nothing," Dylan is quick to assure her.

Norman takes a deep breath. "Mother! You shouldn't deviate from our schedule. It's not good for you."

Dylan snorts. "Deviate from our schedule? Who are you, Norman? A college professor?"

For once Norma has to agree. Even though she appreciates that Norman worries about her, sometimes he overdoes it.

Norman trembles as if he was about to attack Dylan any moment. Dylan looks at Norma, a silent understanding between them that Norman's reaction is way out of line and that they somehow have to resolve the situation before it escalates even further. As sweet as Norman usually is, he gets like this at times.

"Ok, I heard what you were talking about," Norma admits, stepping closer. "And it's stupid. I love drinking your tea, honey. I'm just drinking Dylan's lemonade once in a while." She shrugs. "No big deal." Norma ruffles through Norman's hair tenderly, feeling how their physical closeness calms him.

"Yeah." She hears Dylan's voice behind her. "There's nothing to worry about." Norman's eyes flicker over Norma's shoulder to his brother's face. Encouraged by the fact that he is for once the good guy in this scenario, Dylan adds, "And it's not as if lemonade could cause blackouts."

Norma freezes, feeling Dylan tense behind her when he notices her reaction, Norman's eyes jumping back and forth between the face of his mother and his brother.

"What?" Norma asks, turning around slowly.

"Nothing," Dylan stutters, realizing his mistake. "I just..."

Norma ignores him, turning around again to face Norman. "You told him? How could you…? How could you do that?" How could he betray her trust like that? The last days felt so good, almost unburdened. Of course, that couldn't last.

Norman's anger is gone, replaced by sorrow. "He's family, mother. I needed someone to share this with."

She takes a step back. "I see. So you chose to confide in the one person that decided to ruin our lives? Giving him even more information to do so?"

"You let him stay."

"I would never use this against you, Norma."

The voices of her sons overlap as Dylan reaches out to touch her, aware that one of Norma's tantrums is impending. It's a futile effort to keep her close, literally as well as figuratively when he knows she is about to snap. It felt as if they were getting along well. He should have known, though, that Norma would turn against him the moment she found out Norman told him about her blackouts because for whatever reason he will never be worthy of her trust, always the outsider.

Norma tears her arm away from Dylan. Why can't she ever get a break? On some days it feels as if everyone is out to get her, including her own sons.

"I'm sorry, mother." Norman is close to tears now while Dylan obviously has come to the conclusion that it's better to remain silent.

It doesn't matter though. Both of her son's strategies are bound to fail. Right now, all Norma wants is…not this.

"Out!" she says menacingly calm, but neither of her sons move. They just keep staring at her. "I don't want you here," she repeats, louder this time. "Not today. So… Get. Out."

Norman looks at Dylan, presuming his mother's anger is directed solely at him. However it's not.

"BOTH OF YOU," Norma screams.

That sets them in motion. Norman is devastated while Dylan has to bite back a grim smile as they leave the house, dark clouds approaching overhead. A fall storm is coming.

The storm is about to hit White Pine Bay. Norma can't believe this is happening on the same day she threw her sons out of the house. She doesn't worry about Dylan, he's a survivor, but Norman… What if they are still outside somewhere? They took Dylan's car, but who knows where they went.

Her anger is gone. She is still hurt; however she also understands. Norman is a teenager; there is a lot he has to come to terms with. The death of his father, everything that happened in that night Keith Summers raped her, her blackouts. No wonder he reached out to the only person that is his family aside from her.

Norma controls the last window, making sure that it is closed like all the others, securing the back door so that the wind won't rip it open. It's not raining yet, but she can hear thunder in the distance already. If she wants to go and search for her sons, she has to do it now. There is not much time left before the streets will be impassable and there is no other way to find out where they are. Norman didn't take his phone along and Dylan doesn't answer his.

As Norma leaves the house, the gusts of wind almost push her back inside. She braces herself against the front door, trying to lock it, when she realizes someone is standing right behind her.

"Jesus, Alex, you scared me!" she has to yell to make him hear her amidst the howling storm. "What are you doing here?"

Leafs and branches are twirling across the street. It's much more dangerous to be outside than she expected. There are no guests in the motel at the moment, Alex's squad car the only car parked in the courtyard next to hers. For some reason she likes the image of their cars standing there side by side. A random thought interrupted by a piece of wood crashing into the wall right next to her. If Alex hadn't pulled her away, it might have hit her.

The key is still in the lock. Alex opens the front door and pushes her back inside.

"No!" Norma tries to get past him, but his body is like a firm wall, blocking the exit. "My sons are not here. They are out there somewhere. I have to find them."

He studies her for a moment and she realizes he always does that. Watching her every move, studying her face as if he was trying to find something beneath, something she doesn't want to show him voluntarily. His undivided attention is as flattering as unsettling. Either way, now is not the time.

"Did you hear what I said? We have to go and look for them." She knows he won't let her go on her own. Alex Romero, sheriff and protector, her protector in particular.

"That's why I'm here," he says.

Norma doesn't understand. How does he know about her falling-out with Dylan and Norman? But it doesn't matter. "Fine, then let's go."

Alex raises one hand to hold her back. "No. I came here to check on you and tell you that Norman and Dylan are safe."

That makes her stop dead in her tracks. "You saw them?"

"Yes. They're in town, staying with Emma. A girl from Norman's class," he explains when he realizes Norma has never heard that name before. "She's a nice girl. I know her father. Dylan... he told me you had some kind of a fight and that you wanted them gone for today. They will be back tomorrow. When the storm is over."

Norma makes a face at his allusion. When the storm is over. Yeah, she got that. Alex experienced her temper first hand. She knows that he considers her to be responsible for any sudden changes of the weather in the Bates' household so to speak. It stings, though, that her sons apparently were willing to leave her alone despite the advancing storm.

"I told them I would look after you," Alex adds, reading her thoughts. He leaves out that Norman insisted to come with him to be with his mother and that it took all of Dylan's powers of persuasion to talk Norman into staying.

"Huh." Norma is not sure what to make out of this. She doesn't like it. However there is not much she can do about it, essentially nothing. Not with that storm outside. So… "Thank you for telling me."

There is an awkward moment when Alex realizes she expects him to leave. He had no plan when he met her sons and promised them to drive over but now that he's here, he has no intention to leave any time soon.

Norma narrows her eyes and tilts her head back. She knows what's going on. He certainly is not the first man stalling to spend more time with her.

"You could have just called me to tell me that," she states.

"The landlines are dead." It's true. The cell phones are still working though. So she's right. He could have called. But here he is.

To Alex's surprise, Norma lets it pass, turning around and taking off her coat.

"So, are you hungry?"

By now the rain has turned into a waterfall, the sky an angry black although it is only early evening. Alex has no idea how he is supposed to get back to town and he likes the imagination that he is stuck here with her. There are a lot of emergency calls during a storm, but he knows his team has it covered and will contact him if anything critical occurs.

"Some more?" Norma asks for what must be the forth time. She really wants to make sure he gets enough to eat.

"No, thank you. I'm full. That was delicious."

Her eyes light up and she gives him a full-blown smile. Obviously Norma loves to feed people. And she should. Her cooking skills are amazing. Alex can't help but smile back at her. Norma raises one eyebrow.

"Oh my God, you smiled! I thought your face was paralyzed."

Alex chuckles, shaking his head. "I do smile. My job just won't let me most of the time." It's more than just the job. She probably knows.

"Good thing you're taking a break then," Norma says, her expression getting serious again all of a sudden.

It reminds him of the evening she came to visit him. Norma Bates is unpredictable in any situation. It's one of the reasons why he is drawn to her. She keeps him on edge and he loves living on the edge. Maybe he eventually found his equal counterpart.

Norma clears her throat and stands up to clear the table, Alex helping her despite her efforts to stop him. It is a weird domestic moment he likes much more than he should.

"I faxed the form back to the Arizona PD," he says to break the silence that is starting to get uncomfortable. He probably shouldn't tell her that considering there is an ongoing investigation, but it feels as if they are way beyond that point.

"What did they want from you?" Norma is aware that it's about Sam's death. However she doesn't know about the details.

"Basically they want to find out whether you have been involved in any criminal activities since you moved here."

"So what did you tell them?" Norma is wary now, her posture tense. This is no longer a friendly dinner conversation.

Alex holds her gaze. "That there was nothing."

"Oh."

He can practically see her thoughts racing. What happened to Keith Summers. The fact that he questioned her regarding Matt Weary's death. That's not nothing. Norma is trying to understand why he did it, probably casting her mind back to the evening when she came to him, attempting to seduce him in order to help her. Just what he did now.

They have sat down at the kitchen table again, her fingers clenching and unclenching as she tries to figure out what to do next, what he expects.

"So… um… why did you do it?"

It hits him then. That she thinks he did it because she offered herself to him and that he is here now so that she can keep her end of the bargain. It's the perfect situation. Her sons gone. The storm trapping them together. The fact that he came over even though he could have just called.

Her chest rises and falls as she is waiting for him to make the next move. It's not fear in her eyes but some kind of acceptance that Alex can't bear to see, not when she associates it with him.

"Norma, no, I'm not here for that." Alex only realizes he reached out and took her hand when she flinches, trying to pull it away until his words sink in and she relaxes.

"Ok."

He hates how her voice sounds. Timid. Almost afraid. She is sitting at a table with a man who carries handcuffs and a gun after all. All of a sudden Alex becomes aware of where exactly they are sitting. Right at the table where Keith Summers raped her, cuffed her to it. He knows she is short of cash but this…

"Get up," he orders and the relaxed expression on Norma's face gives way to tension. "Why do you still have that table?" He shouldn't sound so reproachful; it's not her fault, however the realization that she kind of threw him into the same pot with Keith Summers, might have been as afraid of him as she was of that scumbag if only for a moment outrages him.

Norma doesn't understand what's going on, but she stands up and watches Alex lift the table, open the front door and throw it out right into the roaring storm.

"I'll buy you a new one," he states when he comes back into the kitchen. Norma hasn't said a word the entire time, has been watching him. "I'm not Keith Summers, Norma," Alex says. "If I help you, I do it because I want to and not because I expect you to offer me something in return."

For a split second he thinks she is going to cry or embrace him, but then she simply shrugs.

"I guess we should sit on the couch then."

"So, when you say that you can tell when somebody is lying, how do you do it?"

Alex has no idea how late it is. Or early for that matter. The bottle of wine standing on the floor next to the couch is half empty; he stopped pretending that he has plans to leave and Norma stopped pretending that she expects him to.

"I don't know. I just can."

Who would've thought that it is so interesting to talk to her? They have covered so many different topics during the last hours that he stopped counting. Something changed between them after he had thrown out the table, as if she decided that she for once doesn't have to be guarded in the presence of a man because she has nothing to fear.

"Ok." Norma's smirk is mischievous; she bites her lower lip in anticipation. "I have an older sister."

At first Alex thinks she is going to tell him about her family until he realizes she is testing him, his expression obviously so baffled that she starts to laugh.

"I don't have an older sister. That was a bad one. Let's try something else." She thinks about it, her eyes darkening. "I lost my virginity when I was 13."

"True." He doesn't hesitate and she is surprised, perhaps even a bit intimidated but attempts not to let it show.

"You're good. You should become sheriff or something," Norma jokes instead.

"You don't say." Alex is aware that Norma is not coming on to him, their banter more friendly than flirtatious. He tries to keep it that way since she seems to be comfortable with it, and attraction aside, he also feels comfortable in her presence, more than with any other woman he has met before actually.

"My favorite color is red."

And then she says things like that and his mind immediately provides him with images of her wearing something red, something she wouldn't even like to wear, at least not the color as he knows now because...

"False." This is fun. Alex can't read people, just has a good instinct, but he has almost convinced her that he can.

Norma's eyes rest on his face reflecting a mix of disbelief and amazement. Albeit she licks her lips in anticipation, he knows she is not flirting with him, just enjoying the moment. And yet, ever since he kissed her, knows what she tastes like, there is no going back. He wants more. Alex takes another sip of wine, wondering what it tastes like on her tongue.

"I love to watch old movies," Norma lowers her voice as she continues the game, whatever it is that happens between them right now.

Perhaps the storm sucked them into a parallel space-time-continuum so that they can find out what they are to each other undisturbed by anything or anyone from the real world. As far as Alex is concerned, he would like to stay forever.

"True," he says, expecting her to retort with another witty reply, but she just keeps looking at him.

"Why did you do it?"

"That's a statement not a question." The way she is looking at him, Alex knows what she is talking about immediately though. That he could have given the Arizona PD another information, but he didn't. He considers making something up along the lines of that it was the right decision given the circumstances when all of a sudden honesty feels like the easiest of all options, as if the storm cleared the air and washed all the lies and pretenses away. "Because I might not know everything about you, but I know enough to be sure that you didn't do anything wrong and I don't want you to get in trouble. Because there is something about you I can't resist. Something that brought me here tonight."

Once more Norma doesn't reply, just keeps staring at him, and for a moment, Alex fears he revealed too much.

"Do you ever have the feeling that you've had the same nightmare over and over again but that you can't remember it? You just remember the feeling of it."

He has no idea what she is talking about.

"I have blackouts," Norma clarifies.

The game is over. This is no test. This is a confession.

"What?"

She breaks eye contact. "Forget it. It was just..."

"No, it was not." Alex takes hold of her under her chin to make her look at him again. "Tell me. Tell me everything."

Norma didn't expect it to be such a relief. She feels as if a burden has been lifted from her shoulders. Literally. Perhaps it is a mistake to confide in Alex, but what happened between her and her sons today showed her once more that in the end we are all alone. She has to help herself or find someone who helps her. And who better than the sheriff who has fallen for her? So what if she has fallen for him too? Luck and happiness can't be something only other people experience, right? He helped her during that awful night, protected her from the Arizona PD, hell he will buy her a new table just because he can't stand to be reminded of what happened to her. And she knows he will. Alex Romero may be a lot of things, but he is a man of his word. Therefore this can't be completely wrong.

"You really should go and see a doctor about this," Alex says concerned afterwards, his fingers brushing hers. Sometime while she was telling him everything, he reached out and touched her hand. She held on to it and neither of them have let go since then.

Norma shrugs. "I can't. I have no insurance, no money and what if there is something wrong with me and they take Norman away?"

"I'll give you the money. Or I'll give you a loan and you can pay me back," Alex corrects himself when he sees the refusal on her face. Norma is too proud to just take money from him.

"I'll never be able to pay you back," she states.

"Then we'll find another way."

"Stop."

"Norma, you have to..."

"Stop." She puts one finger against his lips. "You need to stop talking about money."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to think I'm doing this to get your money." Norma leans forward to kiss him.

Alex enjoyed her company, restrained himself to make this an evening between friends and nothing more, but now that she crossed the line, there is no reason to hold himself back any longer. He is aware that he is kissing her too hard, pulls her towards him too roughly, but she is a willing participant until…

Norma breaks their kiss and leans away from him. If she tells him to leave now, he will run out into the storm and scream his head off in frustration.

"I want this," she breathes. "But I need it to be gentle. Please. Can you be gentle?"

It breaks his heart to hear her ask for it. Here she is, this beautiful, broken woman that is still standing despite everything life has thrown in her way and she trusts him enough to hand herself over to him.

"Of course, Norma. Anything you want."

He kisses her again, softer this time, and feels her visibly relax in his arms, her tongue caressing his with relish. It's not as passionate as their kiss before although Alex can tell she is a passionate woman, but tonight, right in this moment she needs something else and he will give it to her.

As if on cue the lights go out, the power gone. Alex can't help but let out a frustrated growl when she stands up to get some candles.

"Don't complain," Norma murmurs after she lighted them and has come back to remain standing right in front of him. "The candle light will make this even better."

Alex highly doubts that she would have looked less beautiful with the regular lights on, but she is right, there is no reason to complain as she unbuttons her blouse and takes it off, joining him on the couch in nothing but her bra and skirt.

"Touch me," she whispers, putting his hand on her breast when she senses he wants her to set the pace. And Alex is eager to comply, exploring how this makes her writhe and that makes her moan.

They are beyond words when his lips caress her skin, starting out at her collar bone, kissing his way over her breasts while pushing the cups of her bra down in the process, savoring the taste of her nipples, before moving downwards across her lower abdomen. Alex pushes her skirt up, feeling the tension creep into her body. It's something he doesn't usually do when he is with a woman for a first time, but with Norma he wants it all.

"Alex, you don't have to..."

"Just let me for a moment, ok? I'll be gentle, I promise."

A shiver floods through her body and he can't tell whether it's plain arousal or something else, something deeper felt.

Norma is wearing cotton panties that are entirely unsexy since she didn't dress for the occasion but very sweet and very soaked. Alex doesn't push them out of the way, just kisses her through the fabric, his lips tenderly teasing her sensitive flesh. When his tongue prods her center still through the fabric, she arches up almost violently so that he has to press her hips down. He could get used to gentle.

Her hands pull him up, arousal and impatience defeating his sensual journey.

"Take it off," Norma breathes, tugging at his shirt before her hands drop to his belt.

And then it's skin on skin. Alex is trying to move at a slow pace to make it last as their hips meet in an unsteady rhythm first before their bodies become more acquainted with each other. The storm outside. The candle light. Norma moaning and writhing under him. This feels like a dream. When she turns her face away, desire taking her to another place, Alex gently touches her cheek to make her look at him as a reminder that this is real. He never cared before. Sex was an urge that needed to be satisfied, but this is different.

"I want to see you," he mutters, feeling her inner muscles contract around him as a forerunner of her release when she hears his words because of everything they imply.

Norma holds his gaze as Alex slides one hand between their bodies and caresses her, more brushing than actually touching as he tries to prolong her pleasure, keeping both of them on the edge while he pushes into her agonizingly slow yet deeper with every stroke. He would like to stay there, right in this moment of utter perfection, getting lost in her eyes, the feel of her lips, her breath on his face. But he knows it will be over much too soon, senses the pull in his groin as her breathing gets more and more erratic and her moans louder. Then Norma closes her eyes, her body going rigid for a moment before she arches up and comes so hard, tightening around him, that he follows her immediately afterwards.

They are not aware of the shadow watching them, a dark outline silently slipping out of the house.

To be continued

Since Norma and Alex haven't known each other for long in this story and she is kind of crestfallen because of her blackouts and everything, I wanted a different approach for their "love scene" as opposed to the usual "they've been wanting each other for years and are finally acting on it" scenario (which I LOVE, by the way). Hence the "please be gentle" approach. Just in case you were wondering.