A/N: To clear up some confusion...Mike and Carolyn are not married in this story arc. He proposed to her in the story "Reflections," but they never actually married.

Alex had been in bed for two hours when Bobby finally joined her. She watched his form in the darkness as he slipped off his shoes, pulled off his shirt, and slid out of his pants. He was a shadow creature, so her mind filled in the blanks from memory. It was a pleasant sight.

He slid into bed, obviously trying not to waken her. The odor of scotch wafted toward her, and she knew he wasn't as okay as he wanted her to believe. He nestled deeper into the bed, tucking his arms behind his head as he looked through the darkness toward the ceiling. He was obviously not sleepy.

She ran her fingers lightly down his side, startling him. "I thought you were sleeping," he said softly.

"I wanted to wait for you."

"You should have said something. I would have come up earlier."

She shifted her body closer to his, brushing her lips over his chest. He trembled. She kissed his chin and said, "Tell me what you did for the last few hours."

"Why?" he asked, suddenly tense and suspicious.

The suspicion in his tone made her sad rather than angry. It was no one's fault but her own that it was there. "I just want to know. I'm curious."

He shifted away from her and she knew he was reluctant to talk. "Should I fill in the blanks?" she offered.

The idea of that terrified him more than the thought of just telling her what he'd been doing. He shifted again, restless. "I...I'd prefer you didn't."

"Why?"

"Because the life I live in your mind is much more interesting than the life I actually live, and your imagination gets me into a lot more trouble than I can manage on my own."

"You really think that? You're pretty damn good at getting yourself in trouble with no help at all from my imagination."

He sensed that she was getting irritated, but he was uncertain how to work her back from it anymore. Choosing the least of all evils, he fell silent. She read his withdrawal and her irritation soared, but she quickly reeled it in. Instead of scolding or cajoling, she ran her fingers once more over his side. She could feel him relax, just a little, soothed by her touch. The worst thing she could do to him, she realized, was to withdraw. The cold shoulder treatment was torture for him. She closed the distance he had put between them in the bed, resting her chin on his shoulder as she lightly stroked his chest.

"Now...talk to me," she whispered into his ear, knowing full well the effect she had on him at such close range.

"First, tell me what you deduced," he replied, his soft voice containing just a hint of a tremor.

All right. She could play that game. "Well, you were drinking, and you had a cigarette or two."

Those were safe guesses. "Uhm, try four."

"You should quit, you know. It's not good for you."

"A lot of things I...indulge in are bad for me."

"I know."

She was too quick to agree, but he let it slide. The conversation didn't seem to be going in the right direction, and he took a moment to figure out how to steer it where he wanted it to go. He didn't get a chance to try. She took the reins and plowed ahead. "So, you spent two hours drinking and smoking. What else?"

"I talked to Mike for awhile."

"About?"

She knew better. He never included her in the things he shared with Mike. Still, she felt the need to push, just a little, hoping things might change, that he might change. She wanted so much to be on the inside looking out for a change. Her fingers still wandered over the warm skin of his chest, and he was becoming a different kind of agitated, so she withdrew her hand, hoping to prolong the conversation before he tried to draw her in for sex.

When her fingers slid away, he was disappointed. He'd hoped she wanted more than conversation, and if that were the case, he knew he could end the talking prematurely. That wasn't going to happen, it seemed. She really wanted to talk. Hell.

"We just...talked. About the funeral. About the kids. About Carolyn's new boyfriend. Just...stuff."

"Carolyn's what?"

"Apparently, she's started dating. He's a lawyer or something. Marvin or Martin or something like that."

"How does Mike feel about it?"

"He's not sure what to feel. He hasn't met the guy yet, and neither has Sean. She let Mike take Sean so she could go out. That's why he had to leave after the funeral."

"So she went out on a date and then spent the night with Mike?"

"Where did you get that idea?"

"He wasn't here, was he?"

"No."

"So where else could he have been?"

He tried to look at her, but she was too close and it was too dark for him to make out any of her features. "Are you saying you don't think he has other options?"

"So he picked someone up? Was he trying to get back at Carolyn?"

"Slow down, Alex. He didn't pick any one up. And no, he's not looking to get back at her for anything. He seems to be okay with the split, and he doesn't carry grudges. They're too much of a burden."

She ignored what she perceived as a jab at her and asked, "So where was he?"

He paused, wondering why she thought it was any of her business where Mike was. Finally chalking it up to simple curiosity, he answered, "He spent the night at Denise's."

She was surprised into silence. He waited for a smart comment or snarky insult, but none came. "Did...Did you hear me?" he asked uncertainly.

"I heard you. I just don't know what to make of it. Do you?"

"No, not really."

"How do you feel about it?"

"What difference does that make? Why should I feel anything?"

"Because you've been so close to her for so long, and because you're so close to him. It would be normal for you to feel jealous."

"Jealous? I have no business getting jealous of anyone else, Alex. I have what I want. I have you. Besides, we both know I'm not exactly normal."

She pulled back to look at his face, shrouded in deep shadow. That was exactly the right thing to say. "But she..."

His fingers lightly touched her lips. "But nothing. She's my friend. Nothing more. I love her the way I always have. Sex never changed that, and it never made me want you less. My relationship with her was always what it needed to be. She was always what I needed her to be. When we could no longer be lovers, it was okay. It was actually nice just being friends again because we hadn't been that way for a long time. We were totally...comfortable with each other once again."

"Weren't you comfortable being lovers?"

"Not always, no. Everything always seemed so...complicated, which was my fault."

"How long were you lovers?"

"Does that matter?"

"Bobby, you can't open the door a couple of inches and then slam it shut. If you want me to understand your relationship with her, then you have to discuss it with me because I wasn't there."

"You were and you weren't. You were there, between us, for years, Alex. Again that was all my fault. I tried so hard not to do that, but...I could never hide from her. She knew. She always knew."

She felt a stirring in the pool of her jealousy for Denise. She always knew. But how? How did that woman get so close to him when he still held her, his wife, at arms' length? She fought down the gentle surge. "I still don't get why you didn't stay with her," she ventured, trying to understand, glad he was willing to talk.

He scowled. "Because I had you," he answered, thinking that answer should be obvious. "I...I always loved her, but I was never in love with her...not the way I was with you. The first time I slept with her..." he trailed off, suddenly mortified by the conversation.

She read the sudden tension in him correctly. "It's okay," she soothed. "I want to know. I need to understand. What happened the first time?"

He still hesitated. "I've never asked you about your boyfriends, about Ricky or Joe."

"So ask."

"No. I mean...it's not something I have a need to know."

"And I don't want to know about any of your conquests, except for her, because she was never a conquest. She conquered you. That was no easy feat."

He let that roll around in his head for a minute. "It wasn't something I ever planned. The first time...just kind of happened. She...she was a beat cop in Crown Heights when I worked patrol in Bed-Stuy. She called for assistance one night, and my partner and I responded. That was how we met."

"She was a beat cop?"

"Yes...but not for long. She opted for admin instead and worked her way up to the Chief of D's office." He smiled fondly. "If she'd stayed out there...she could have been the Chief of D's one day."

"What happened? Why didn't she stay?"

He pulled himself out of the past and turned onto his side to face her. "Does it matter?"

She knew that if she was going to connect with him, to draw him out and get him to keep talking to her, it was going to take some effort on her part. She wasn't always willing or patient enough to put forth the effort, but right then, she was. Leaning closer, she lightly nuzzled his nose with hers. "I'd like to know."

He rested his hand on her hip and brushed his lips over hers. She could feel the tension bleed from his body. Softly, he sighed, and she caught the scent of scotch as his breath caressed her face. She reached out, settling her hand on his waist and stroking him with her thumb. He responded to her gentle affection by answering her. "She didn't have the heart for it. She simply couldn't separate herself from the job. She brought it home with her, and it would have eaten her alive. But that wasn't what did her in, though eventually it would have."

"So what made her give it up?"

After another pause, he forged ahead, uncertain but still willing to talk. "A few days after we met, she, uhm, s-she was involved in a line of duty shooting. The suspect died." He paused again, as though trying to read her. She continued to move her thumb, stroking him just below his waist. Reassured, he continued. "S-She never got over taking his life. It tore her apart, and she...turned in her badge. To this day, she hasn't forgiven herself for taking that life, even though she'd also taken a bullet herself. It took them five and a half hours to stop the bleeding and repair the damage. Post-op complications kept her in the hospital for nearly two weeks. I went to see her every day. On my days off...I stayed with her. We..."

He trailed off and fell silent. "Keep going," she urged, placing a soft kiss on his chin.

He trembled again, but he did as she asked and kept talking. "We got close, uh, very quickly. She spent six weeks recovering before she started her new job as an administrative assistant to a precinct captain in Manhattan. Two years later, they eliminated her position and she moved to 1PP."

"What about you and her? How did you kind of just happen to sleep with her?"

He raised his hand to run his fingers through her hair. She was amazed by his open candor. The key, it seemed, was maintaining physical contact with him and remaining calm. Subdued gestures of affection reassured him that she wasn't upset and encouraged him to keep talking. In the past, her anger had always interfered with their connection and kept her from discovering that simple way past his defenses. Be gentle with him, Alex, her father's deathbed advice came back to her. Underneath that tough exterior he projects, he's fragile, and you can hurt him without even trying. He loves you so much. Don't destroy him, muffin. His use of the childhood nickname he'd given her when she was small, a moniker he hadn't used for years, had been her undoing. Be gentle, he'd admonished, making her promise she would try to rein in her anger. Until then, she hadn't realized just how much her father had observed over the years—or how much he honestly had loved her husband. Choking off a soft sob at the memory of her loss, she covered it up by shifting closer and pressing her lips lightly against his throat. She followed a gentle nuzzle with the tip of her tongue, flicking it slowly over one of the most sensitive spots on his body.

He reacted strongly, and when she withdrew after a few seconds, he protested. She kissed the corner of his jaw and gently nibbled his earlobe. Desire shot through his body like a lightning bolt and he grasped her hips, leaving her no doubt about his intentions. "In a minute," she whispered.

"Now," he responded.

"Bobby..."

He silenced her with a kiss that took her breath away. She had pushed too far in her attempt to reassure him and he'd lost his focus. There was no point in talking any more, not at the moment. Breaking the kiss, she returned her mouth to his throat and surrendered to him. They were done talking for the night.