"Can we talk?" he asks her, in the darkness of her room.
She rolls over, to face him. She props her head up, on her hand. She exhales.
"About what? It was a long day," she points out.
"And you're tired. I know."
"What do you want to talk about?"
"What are we doing?"
"I was trying to go to sleep. I don't know what you were doing."
"That is not what I meant, and you know it," he insists.
"I do not know what we are doing. I do not think that it needs a definition."
"What if I want one?"
"I have told you what I can offer."
"Is it my turn yet?"
"Your turn?" she furrows her brow in confusion.
"To show you what I have to offer?"
"I..."
"I know that I say, and do stupid things."
"All of the time."
"Everyday," he agrees.
"I am assuming that you had another point, though, right?"
"I make mistakes, everyone does, but I am not a bad person. I can't give you the world, but there are a lot of things that I can give you."
"For example?"
"A shoulder to cry on. Arms to hold you. There are things that I can't fix, and won't try, but I just wish you could see things my way, just once."
"And what way would that be?" she inquires.
"More than just today. Something more. I know that neither of us are perfect, but..."
"I cannot commit to that. I am not ready," she insists.
"I respect that."
"What are you asking me? I am not entirely sure."
"Will you be? Will you ever be ready? When will you know?"
"I will know, when I know," she replies.
"I do not want to push you."
"I will not break. You are not going to send me into a downward spiral. I am not that fragile. I do not get pushed over the edge that easily."
"I just don't want to..."
"I am not going to turn to a bottle, to drown my sorrows. I have learned my lesson."
"Once an addict, always an addict, you have said that yourself."
"I need to work on myself, before I can make any promises to you."
"I just want a semi-commitment from you."
"A semi-commitment? What does that mean?"
"That when you work on you. When you find whatever it is that you need to find, and you are ready to commit, that it will be to me. I can wait forever, as long as I know that I am waiting on someone who wants me," he rambles.
"Ok."
"Ok?" he raises an eyebrow.
"I can't promise you forever. I can't even promise you tomorrow. I cannot promise you a happily ever after. There are so many things that I cannot promise you. What I can promise, is that one day, in the future, near, or far, if I am ready, to start making those promises, I will make them to you," she pours out her heart.
"That's good," he tells her, as he presses her lips to her forehead.
"And why is that?" she wonders.
"Because I love you."
She stares at him, in the darkness of her room. His face is illuminated by moonlight that spills through the window.
"I know that I haven't said that in a while, and... I just want you to know, I still do. I always will."
"I will never understand why."
"You never have to."
"Why are you sitting in here? It's late, come to bed," he finds her sitting in the center of the living room.
"I am just thinking."
"You can do that in bed."
"I am not ready to come to bed, yet."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to come to bed mad."
"Mad? Why are you mad? Did I make you mad?"
"Yes."
"Why? What did I do? Just tell me, and I will fix it."
"Tim, you can't fix everything."
"Why are you mad at me?"
"You should have been there," she tells him.
"I couldn't."
"I know. I am beginning to realize that there are a lot of things that you aren't going to be there for."
"Why are you mad about that?"
"Because you should be."
"You will miss things too."
"When you got done all you could talk about was the trial. You never even asked how my appointment went. You didn't ask to see pictures."
"I'm sorry. I was just relieved. I wasn't thinking about anything else."
"Exactly," she folds her arms across her chest.
"What do you mean, exactly?"
"You don't think about things."
"What is this really about?"
"I needed you to be there for me. I expect you to be in, or to be out. There is no in between."
"I am here for you."
"Whenever I need you."
"Abby, are you giving me an ultimatum?"
"Yes," she nods.
"Why?"
"You need to realize what your priorities are."
"If I didn't go to court I would be in jail. You could have scheduled the appointment for another day."
"Is that what you're going to say when I go into labor? Sorry, I missed the birth of our babies, but I was working, you should have gone into labor another day."
"Backup."
"Backup? Why? Am I talking to fast?" she huffs.
"You said babies. Do you realize that you just said babies, the plural of baby?"
"Yes."
"Babies? You want another baby, already? We haven't even had this one."
"What? No."
"Then why did you say babies?"
"Because that is what we're having."
"Babies? What babies?"
"We're having two babies. Twins."
"Oh."
"You would have known that, if you had asked, or shown any interest. I understand that what you have going on is important, but I am important too. We are important," she points to her stomach, "You have to realize that it's not just you anymore."
He places flowers in front of a shiny, polished stone. He stares at the stone, and wipes the dust off of it. He smiles, and shakes his head.
"I wish that you could see our team. They're all changing. They surprise me everyday. I guess I had forgotten how much tragedy changes people. This time more than ever. Jenny, I wish that you could see them. You would be so proud. Abby, and Tim, they're have a baby. Not a baby, to babies. They're having twins. He wants to marry her, and she told him no. And Tony, and Ziva, they are... testing the waters. I have no idea what they are. I don't think that they do either, but they're different. They're better.
I miss you, Jenny. I know that I really screwed up. I should have chosen differently, but I was afraid. Sometimes I wonder what we'd be doing, if you were still here. I bet right now, you'd be in my basement. We'd have some bourbon, and laugh at how much things have changed, and how foolish we were."
He places his hand on the stone. He traces her first name, with his fingers. He swallows hard. "Goodnight, Jen." He turns, and walks away.