"I'm there in the dark and I can't move, I'm trapped, chained down and...I'm exposed and he hurts me, over and over and I don't know it all blurs into one," Ridley concluded dully as she suppressed a shudder and made an effort to hold the psychiatrist's prying golden-brown eyes. Ridley hated the woman's eyes, there was something feline and cold about them, they seemed judging but Ridley supposed that maybe just her own paranoia conjuring that. "He ripped off my nails one by one...he cut my throat..." She paused and looked confused for a moment.

"He cut your throat?" the psychiatrist, Dr. Young queried coolly. "Wasn't Mr. Hawkes the one that did that?"

"Mister?" Ridley snapped hatefully. "Monsters don't get to be called Mister!"

"He wasn't a monster a Ridley," Dr. Young answered calmly. "We have discussed this; he was a evil man who took advantage of you and your friend's vulnerability, a criminal and a rapist but just a man." She sat opposite Ridley, her large, mahogany desk between them as much a symbol of their divide as patient and doctor as well as a shield between the stable and the unstable, the well and the unwell.

"Just a man," Ridley spat out hatefully, "were they both just men? What does that make me then to be so vulnerable to mere men?"

"Well you were young when Mr. Hawkes attacked you," Dr. Young murmured with a crisp empathy, if words could be sterilised Dr. Young had a knack for it. "This led you to have issues of vulnerability and safety." She paused to glance down at the notes on her desks before glancing up at Ridley once more through her ovular lenses. "You became a cop to master your fear and find a way to protect yourself, you saw cops as people that could protect others, an idea you got from your friend Felicity's image of a hero cop but you didn't get your hero cop and when you joined the force that didn't change. You kept looking for one Ridley, which is how you ended up with Detective Silver."

"It wasn't like that," Ridley snarled moodily as she folded her arms and frowned.

"Yes it was," Dr. Young stated the words with finality, now Ridley knew the woman was judging her. "Ridley it is understandable and something you need to come to terms with. Until you accept the nature of your fear you cannot overcome it completely. You became a cop but it wasn't enough, you still didn't feel safe, it passed for a time, a long time though falling into bed with Detective Silver and then Detective Speedle was most definitely a setback but you still had a degree of control over your fear, or at least you thought you did. The Suburban Legends killer ruined that, he made you vulnerable again, tore away your illusions of safety and made you feel that you couldn't protect yourself, that no one could protect you, your own colleagues couldn't do it."

"Stop it," Ridley hissed out as she glanced sideways.

"Ridley you need to confront this, you were helpless, weak, and powerless to stop any of it."

She shook her head defiantly even as she felt the tears burning anew. "He raped me over and over, he...he flayed me, he made me scream...he made me...do things..."

"Who? Hawkes or the Suburban Legends killer? You're beginning to blend them into one, one monster or demon; you're giving the fear too much power Ridley. It's not an entity, they were two separate people and two separate events and we need to deal with them that way. Once you overcome one you can begin to overcome the other. You were a teenage girl victimised because of who you were friends with, you couldn't help any of that, that was the situation with Hawkes. With the Suburban Legends killer you were a cop on his case and you got too close and he punished you for that, he made it personal but you have to let it go."

"Let it go," Ridley choked out, "like it's so easy."

"Ridley you tried to solve your issues with Hawkes by sleeping with cops but that was just a band aid for the wound, it did you no good and the wound stayed and scarred until the Suburban Legends killer reopened it and made it bigger."

"I...I didn't sleep with Tim because of that, the first time maybe but not...I like Tim," she murmured weakly. "I want to be normal with Tim and date him but I can't...because every time I think of sex it's him holding me down, making me scream, God he broke me...inside and out..."

"Ridley you can't be normal," Dr. Young commented sharply, "but-" She didn't get to finish her sentence.

Ridley saw red at her words and stood up suddenly with a fiery glower. "This session is over!" she snapped angrily.

"Ridley if you walk out that door I have to report it," Dr. Young threatened with a cool glance.

Ridley ignored her and turned to the door; she opened it hastily, slammed it hard behind her and stormed down the corridor, narrowly avoiding a young lab technician.

Horatio got the news unofficially first as rumours spread of Detective Moon storming through the Miami-Dade headquarters like a tornado before she drove off so fast out of the car park she left prominent tyre tracks. Twenty minutes later after he had reached her house and found it absent he got the phone call from an unimpressed Dr. Young. After that it was simply a game of elimination to try and locate the fiery New Yorker. In the end he texted her and she gave up her position without a struggle.

It was just after four when Horatio stepped onto the hot, white sands of Miami South Beach, it was crowded on the sunny afternoon with natives and tourists alike but Ridley was easy to spot. Ridley and Horatio were probably the only two people there who weren't dressed for the beach. She sat under a small group of palm trees wearing blue trousers, a silk, cream shirt and black Mary Janes, her badge visible at her right hip as it glinted in the sun. She sat with her legs out straight, and a red camera in her hands that she was staring down at moodily.

"Am I off the case again?" she queried bitterly as he took a seat beside her.

"No," he answered calmly as he stared out at the roaring deep blue waves through his tinted lenses.

"Then you haven't heard?"

"That you abruptly left your session with Dr. Young?" He nodded as he continued to stare at the sea. "Yes, I heard."

"Did she tell you why?" Ridley queried as she looked over at him.

He shook his head. "No, you didn't give your consent for today's session to be released to me."

"Ah." Ridley turned the camera off at last, slipped it into its case and zipped it up. "I get confused sometimes in there about who did what," she spoke the words aloofly, purposely distancing herself from the thoughts that accompanied the words. "I say that Hawkes did something he didn't and so on and today she accused me of turning the two into one entity, a monster when they're both just men. Just ordinary human beings, both of whom managed to beat me, capture me, hurt me, well you know..." She shook her head angrily as she drew her knees up and hugged them close. "It made me angry being forced to realise that they didn't have any supernatural abilities but that I was just weak."

"You weren't weak Ridley," Horatio argued softly.

"I was young when Hawkes kidnapped me, perhaps I couldn't have outwitted him but I should have learned from that and evolved," Ridley retorted frostily. "I had training and a gun when it came to...to the violet eyed man." She swallowed hard. "I had experienced being captured before; I should have known enough to avoid it happening again. He tortured and killed my colleague and then my friend, why didn't I know enough to avoid it happening to me? God I'm so stupid!"

"Ridley you did everything you could," Horatio answered gently, "but you are only human too. We all did everything we could to beat this man and in the end we did, thanks to you but it wasn't a sign of your weakness that he was able to hurt you."

"Well what then?" she demanded as she looked up at him crossly. "How do I stop it happening a third time if it's not something I'm doing wrong? If there's nothing to fix..." She swallowed hard again. "Then what can I do to stop it happening again?"

Horatio tugged down his sunglasses to meet her worried brown-grey stare with his own sympathetic blue one. Now he thought he understood the issue at last, it wasn't fear of memories it was fear of the future. "You keep doing what you are doing," he retorted calmly, "keep training, keep attending the psychiatrist and keep living."

"She said I couldn't be normal again," Ridley grumbled sullenly. "That's when I stormed off. I don't want to believe that."

"Then don't," Horatio said seriously. "Ridley do you remember I asked you to do something in the hospital?"

She nodded sombrely. "You asked me to keep pushing myself to live and keep fighting for survival."

He nodded with a small, satisfied smile. "Exactly and living in fear isn't living Ridley. Remember you did outwit Hawkes, you got away from him without anyone's help and you survived the Suburban Legends killer too against all the odds. You are a fighter Ridley and not the type of person to let this beat you."

She nodded weakly as she rubbed at her eyes tiredly, banishing any tears that were threatening to fall. "I wish you'd found me," she murmured quietly, "that I could have known you when I was younger."

"I wish I'd found you too," the redhead confessed, "but you did fine without me Ridley, better than fine."

They stayed on the beach in silent companionship for close to half an hour simply looking at the passersby and the ever churning ocean. They were disturbed when Ridley's phone beeped indicating a text message. She tugged it out and glanced at it, three messages in fact, word had continued to spread about her epic storm off from the psychiatrist's. One from Calleigh read, 'Hey Ridley are you free for a coffee?' It didn't imply anything but Ridley knew it had to be because the blonde knew what had happened. Then one from Tim, it simply said, 'are you free?' and finally one from Eric which she actually smiled at, 'hey Rid everyone knows Dr. Young' s a bitch, P.S she has it in for women, especially attractive ones, don't take it personally!'

"So, I'm not off the case?" she queried tentatively as she glanced up at the redhead who was still staring out at the sea.

"Ridley you're entitled to a bad day, we all get them," Horatio answered as he glanced back at her, "and I know therapy can be very difficult, I'm not going to punish you for losing patience with it. I just want you to keep pushing to live Ridley, to feel safe and have the normal life you want. If you're suffering from posttraumatic stress it doesn't just endanger the case it endangers you too Ridley and none of us wants you to have any setbacks. Look, Miami-Dade is never going to close itself to you so don't be afraid of me as well, if you are scared or upset you tell me, I know you don't like being off because it gives you too much time to think but maybe we can work through that too."

"What do you mean?" She looked at him curiously.

"Maybe we could all do with a hobby," he said wryly. "In the meantime, let's agree that you are going to continue with your therapy and we will keep going with this case."

"Okay."

Horatio's phone started ringing and he pulled it out from his jacket pocket and flipped it open. "Horatio here. When did that happen? Right, tell Detective Tripp we're on our way." He snapped it closed and looked back at Ridley. "How do you feel about tea parties?"

"They're not a hobby of mine," Ridley answered calmly, knowing exactly where he was going with this.

"Good because you're probably not going to like them after this." He stood up and held out a hand to the woman, which she accepted.

She tensed slightly in the redhead's grasp recalling how he had clutched at her bloody fingertips after removing her from her grave and promised her that she was safe. She suppressed the memory quickly as she stood and he released her hand though she did not miss the curious glance he gave her as she pulled away.

"You can take your car home, I'll follow you and then we can head to the crime scene together," Horatio offered. "I know you still don't know your way around Miami very well and I doubt you will find Knott Woods Crescent too easily."

"Nope," she agreed with a faint smile as she tugged out her car keys.

"Guys you really have a sick one," Alexx said wearily as she rubbed her gloved hands together and looked over at Horatio and Ridley with a grim calmness.

"Hey guys," Calleigh greeted chirpily as she moved from her vantage point at the end of the table. She considered it a positive sign to see Ridley and Horatio entering the large, old-fashioned dining room together. "Welcome to the Hayir household, spelt H-A-Y-I-R but pronounced hair, which I'm guessing is not a coincidence."

"I thought the tea party happened at the hatter's house," Eric commented as he waved his UV torch over the table whilst looking through an orange square panel at what the light illuminated.

"Common misconception," Ridley explained as she took in the grim scene, "Alice went to the March Hare's house because she thought the hare would be more interesting than a hatter." She shrugged at the looks her remark earned her and said, "I had a boyfriend who was obsessed with Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."

There was a dark mahogany table in the middle of the room with enough seats for ten, four opposite each other and one at either end, all of them with fancy backs that had images of flowers and ivy leaves carved into them. The tablecloth was white and covered in numerous blood spatters as well as a collection of fine china teacups, saucers and a teapot and milk jug along with silver cutlery, a butter dish, another teapot and a three tier cake tray. Of course none of that was disturbing, not even the bloodstains, it was the bodies and the blood smeared writing on the white wall behind the table that drew in all the attention.

There was a man, his back to the door, he was tied tightly to his chair with a thick rope and on his head a flamboyant, velvet, green top hat sat with a blue ribbon about it and a card marked 10/6 slotted into the ribbon. Opposite the man was a woman, she had her arms tied down to the arms of her chair and one rope about her torso holding her upright. She had fair skin and long, wavy, dark brown hair that hung over her shoulders. She was quite thin with bony cheekbones and long fingers with polished, pink fingernails. She had a pair of tall, brown hare ears on her head, these were attached to a furry, brown headband which, Ridley noted with a slight look of unease, had been sewn into the woman's scalp. Bloodstains down her brow and on the scraps of straw that had been tossed into her hair indicated that she had been alive when this had been done. She also had what looked like butter smeared around her face. The third victim was the hardest to look at, two seats down from his mother he was a boy no more than seven or eight, his arms were tied to the arms of the chair as well but he had been left to slump forward, facedown in an open pot of tea. Ridley made out a pair of rounded grey ears sewn to his scalp and she knew they had to be mouse ears.

"Sorry I'm late," Tim announced as he hastened into the crime scene.

Eric let out a snicker. "You're always late, too busy getting laid wolfie?" he teased. He tensed when Calleigh shot him an angry look and nodded pointedly in Ridley's direction.

Tim didn't answer; he simply glowered at his friend before glancing awkwardly at Ridley. Well at least she looked alright apart from the faint blush at her cheeks and the grim gaze in her grey-brown eyes. She gave Tim a faint half-smile that he knew was meant to signal that she wasn't bothered by Eric's remark but it just made him angry. Was she really not bothered?

"So our killer's not a one trick pony then," Tim remarked dryly as he lifted his camera and took a photo of the writing on the wall. In blood it read- `Come, we shall have some fun now!'

"Is that meant to be a challenge?" Tim wondered aloud.

"It's a quote," Ridley retorted, "from the tea party chapter but yes, it's probably a challenge too."

"Cause of death Alexx?" Horatio quipped calmly as he continued to look about the room.

"Well Mr. Hayir got it worst," Alexx murmured, "as you can see from all the slash marks, it looks like a hatchet did the job. Although, it's hard to tell if he donated the blood on the wall. Mrs. Hayir I'm not sure about, she has all the signs of a drug overdose but I won't know until we do some testing, maybe it was in the butter all over her face, which I don't get."

"It was the best butter," Ridley murmured faintly.

"What?" Horatio glanced over at the dark haired woman curiously.

Ridley pointed to the squished butter on the butter dish. "The March Hare tried to fix the Hatter's watch with butter." She came round to the other side of the table, her eyes widening slightly as she saw that the gagged Mr. Hayir had had his eyes poked out. There was indeed a pocket watch there, gold and open with butter smeared about it sitting just in front of the man. "Got to admire the accuracy," she commented frostily.

Tim leaned down to the dead boy and took a photo. "He's got burn marks on his cheeks," he murmured, "at least what I can see of them."

"Hot tea," Ridley guessed, "it's...it's how they kept the Dormouse awake."

"God this guy is sick," Calleigh commented in disgust, "but where's Alice?"

"Where's this girl?" Ridley demanded as she pointed to a photograph of the family resting on a bookshelf in the corner. It depicted Mr and Mrs Hayir with their son and a slightly younger daughter with Mrs Hayir's sharp cheekbones and dark hair.

"Frank!" Horatio called sharply prompting the balding cop to hasten into the room.

"Yes?" he queried calmly. He had been on the scene for over an hour with Yelina before she had gotten called to a homicide further into the city. For the past ten minutes he had been dealing with a rookie cop vomiting on the front lawn.

"There's a girl in the photograph," Horatio explained as he gestured to the silver framed photograph Ridley stood beside, "where is she?"

"We've been looking for her," Frank admitted, "but so far no sign. I have cops casing the neighbourhood in case she ran to a neighbour and also in case someone noticed anything but it's a secluded house, it's doubtful anyone did."

"Keep looking," Horatio ordered. He turned to his colleagues. "Guys let's get this house searched, this guy was here for a while setting up this scene, he must have left evidence and that little girl could be here somewhere."

They nodded and began processing the scene. Tim and Calleigh both wanted to query Ridley about her psychiatry session but they could both respect that it was neither the time nor the place, instead Tim headed to the kitchen to look for evidence there whilst Ridley headed outside to check the premises and Horatio headed to the front hall leaving Calleigh and Eric with the crime scene as Alexx headed outside to greet her own team.

"You are such an idiot," Calleigh was quick to snap.

"What?" Eric looked over at her in surprise. "Oh come on Calleigh it was just banter!"

"Even so," the blonde grumbled as she studied Mrs. Hayir. "Ridley probably doesn't like being reminded of Serena the slut."

Eric let out a laugh at that and didn't stop despite the evil eye Calleigh gave him. "Calleigh not talking about it isn't going to make it go away and Ridley was the one who told Speed to move on and so far she has been fine with it."

"You know that's not true," the blonde murmured crossly.

Eric shook his head as he continued to dust for prints. "Yeah I do," he confessed, "and I think Speed's an idiot for actually going along with it and moving on. I respect he has urges but if he really felt strongly about Ridley he would wait no matter what she said, no matter how angry she got he would just hold out because he should know it will be worth it one day." He paused at his own words as he felt his cheeks burning.

Calleigh dipped her head slightly allowing her long blonde locks to hide her own faint blush. "What does that mean then?" she queried softly. "That Speed doesn't like Ridley as much anymore or that she's not worth the hassle to him?"

"No, it means he's stubborn, stupid and thinks with his dick," Eric joked with a small smile. "I think he's trying to make Ridley jealous or he thinks because she hasn't reacted to Serena then maybe she's not as interested in him anymore."

"God they're both being ridiculous," Calleigh murmured, pausing as she realised how her words seemed a bit closer to home. "He thinks she isn't interested anymore and she thinks the same thing but really..."

"But really Ridley's trying to be selfless when she's just being stupid and Speed's trying to go along with what he thinks she wants and just being an idiot too," Eric concluded.

Calleigh smiled now too as she glanced up at Eric coyly with her deep blue eyes. "We have to fix it you know."

"Ridley's in a bad place right now," Eric murmured reluctantly, "I don't know if we can fix it."

"Well we have to try," the blonde said stubbornly, "Ridley's from New York they're all bull headed up there, she won't try to heal if she's not helped."

"They're bull headed down here too," Eric murmured as he thought of himself. 'Why can't you just tell her you like her?' he wondered angrily. 'You're standing here mocking Speed for not being able to do the same damn thing.'

Meanwhile, outside and completely oblivious to the conversation going on about her, Ridley continued her hunt around the premises. She paused as she found the bins waiting in the back garden by the wooden gate. There were a lot of flies buzzing about them, making her more than a little suspicious. She snapped on her red, velvet gloves and approached them cautiously, reaching out slowly to the lid of one. Her grey-brown eyes watered slightly at the stench that wafted up, fresh, bloody meat spoiling in the heat. She saw the wide brown eyes of a five-year-old girl's decapitated head and knew it was just another image to add to her nightmares. She let the lid drop shut as she swallowed down a mouthful of vomit and hastened back to the house to report her discovery.

It was a couple of hours before the bodies were finally removed, after Tim had taken several shots of the body parts spread out between the two bins and Eric had checked the bins over for prints. After that the group headed back to the Miami-Dade headquarters to discuss their findings, Alexx admitted grimly that it was highly likely the blood on the wall had come from the dead girl.

"Why was the girl thrown in the bin like that?" Calleigh pondered aloud as she accepted the cup of coffee Eric presented to her.

"He didn't need her," Ridley answered coldly as she sat down on a hard backed, black, plastic chair and immediately regretted the move due to the discomfort it immediately caused her.

"Why not?" Eric demanded, his anger for the poor girl slipping into his voice. "What happened to Alice?"

"He already had his Alice," Ridley retorted. "That left a Hatter, a Hare and a Dormouse, no place for the girl."

"Eliza," Horatio filled in, "Eliza Hayir." Though his voice was crisply calm the rage was clear in his dark blue eyes.

They were all gathered in one of the main offices, spread out as they sought vantage points near the air conditioning and the open windows. The evening was turning uncomfortably humid and sticky.

"Another name to go with the face," Ridley grumbled.

Horatio had the grace to look apologetic but he said nothing.

"We all saw it Ridley," Tim murmured moodily. "You can't get personal about it."

Ridley glanced his way but he was looking out the window. She realised he was right and fell silent, of course it didn't matter that he was right the glassy eyed head would be in her nightmares anyway.

"If the Hayirs were picked for their name, why did he pick Estella?" Eric queried. "Or the woman in the attic?"

"Because Estella was curious and blonde," Horatio answered grimly.

"That's a bit flimsy for you H," Eric protested.

"Her mother said she liked to experiment with drugs," Horatio explained, "and she was always interested in trying new things. Her friends said she had a tendency to wander off with strangers in nightclubs; her last night alive was no exception to this, as we know she ended up falling in with a crowd because she was seeking LSD. Of course the strongest piece of evidence is that she also liked to pretend to be someone else when she was out because whilst she enjoyed her mother's money she resented her fame, as I learned this morning from one of our drug dealers, she was calling herself Alice that night."

"You're kidding," Tim remarked sardonically.

Horatio shook his head. "Someone heard the curious blonde calling herself Alice and they couldn't resist."

"Was he looking for an Alice or was it crime of opportunity?" Ridley pondered. "Imperfect Alice and perfect Alice, he wasn't happy with his first victim, that's why she was up there, hidden away, he was ashamed but these new victims, they're all on display."

"Well that's messed up," Eric murmured.

"And now that he knows her name wasn't actually Alice," Tim commented suggestively, "are we going to have another dead Alice?"

"Let's hope not," Calleigh said calmly.

"Maybe it's not just the name," Ridley retorted. "We can't assume."

"Correct, anyway, let's call it a day," Horatio dismissed them.

They stood up and moved to go out of the office, Calleigh intended to stop Ridley in the corridor but Tim beat her to it. "Can we..." He paused, unsure what to say, can we talk was alright but asking someone to coffee or a drink was easier but then what if Ridley thought it was suggestive and rejected it. "Fuck it," he grumbled aloud, "are you hungry? Can we get noodles?"

Ridley blinked at him in surprise as she thought over her reply. Tim could see the rejection budding there so he spoke up again before she could, "yeah we're getting noodles, I want to talk. Come on, I'll drive." He started walking on, hoping she would follow rather than give a rejection to his back. It worked as Ridley found herself walking after the man.

When they got into Tim's car he flipped on one of his CDs and glanced at Ridley out of the corner of his eye as he pulled out of the car park. Ridley looked at the CD player pointedly as Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit blasted out. She had informed Tim that it was one of only three bands in his collection that she had heard of, the others being Metallica and The Doors, and of the three she couldn't fathom their appeal at all. She had then murmured that she didn't even understand half the lyrics in Smells Like Teen Spirit and made a point of singing her own interpretation of them. From then on Tim had made a point of trying to play that song at least once when Ridley was in his car.

She shook her head with a small smile and started singing along quietly much to Tim's amusement. When they reached the noodle place Tim ordered and paid for their usual chilli noodles before guiding Ridley over to one of the red leather seated booths. Ordinarily they wouldn't have hung around here but here was neutral territory and Tim knew he had probably already pushed Ridley enough as it was.

He sat opposite her meeting her calm, quizzical look. "I heard you stormed out of therapy," he remarked tactlessly.

Ridley frowned and pushed back some of her loose, dark hair. "I think everyone heard," she grumbled, "judging from all the looks I've been getting."

"Well Belmontes says you took off from the car park like a bat out of hell," Tim offered with a small grin.

"Right." Ridley's frown deepened.

Tim realised he was going about the matter all wrong and remarked hastily, "anyway, I just wanted to know if...well you're not okay, so I'm not going to ask that but do you want to talk about it with me?"

Ridley gave him an uncomfortable look and he watched as she dug her nails into the edge of the table.

"As a friend Ridley," he said pointedly with a slightly irritated look.

"That's not it," she murmured.

"Well?" He looked at her impatiently wondering if she even liked him at all anymore. Why was she so damn awkward with him?

"You came up in therapy," she confessed.

"Oh, good things I hope." He frowned at his own comment. "Which they obviously weren't," he guessed sardonically, "or you wouldn't have stormed off."

"Dr. Young thinks I used you and Justin, I didn't get my hero cop rescuer when that monster," she paused and said through gritted teeth, "Hawkes had me and ever since then I've been trying to make every cop my hero cop." She looked down at her noodles uncomfortably. "I guess I've been wondering if you think I used you."

"Ridley you and I have talked about this before," Tim reminded her, "when we hooked up the first time in the club yeah you used me but I used you too and that was normal, it's what adults tend to do when they get drunk and make out with someone in a club. I've never thought you used me since, I was actually hopeful you liked me."

"I did," she protested as her gaze shot up to meet his.

"Did," he repeated flatly.

"Do," she admitted before she fell silent again. "Dr. Young said it was selfish and unhealthy to keep up a relationship with you, she said since it started out as me once again trying to make a cop fit into my cop protector image any relationship you and I could have would be tainted by that-"

"What a load of bullshit," Tim interrupted crossly. "Hey I know H said you have to go to therapy but you can still have your own mind too Ridley."

"Well my own mind says it's unfair to have you endlessly waiting when I don't know when I'll be able to just be normal or even if..."

"No one's normal," Tim murmured tiredly as he leaned across the table to her, fixing his stern brown gaze on her, "no one I know anyway."

"Well most couples have sex without the girl freaking out and suffering horrible flashbacks of rapists," she stated coldly.

Tim gave an angry sigh before he swallowed down his protests and promptly shoved a forkful of noodles into his mouth. 'Just friends,' he thought to himself moodily, 'you agreed and you can't exactly sit and protest and promise you'll wait when you only waited a couple of weeks to start sleeping with someone else.'

"Look it's okay and I'm okay," she tried to assure him in a more gentle voice, "honest. Are you okay? Are things good with Serena?"

He shrugged, unsure what to answer. Wasn't she even just a little jealous? "I guess so," he murmured.

They continued eating their noodles amicably, talking about everything except their broken relationship, Serena and the case. At the end of it Tim drove Ridley back to the Miami-Dade car park to get her car, making her promise to text him if she needed to talk to someone who wasn't a judgemental psychiatrist.