A/N: I know people get frustrated when Bobby and Alex fight, but conflict drives the heart of a story. It's not true that happily ever after does not involve any arguments and every couple, no matter how much they love each other, fights. Some fight more than others. An absence of arguments can be an indicator of something fundamentally wrong in the relationship. Bobby and Alex are both willful and passionate, and they are both very private people. Remember, they have only been married for three years and they are still learning to be a couple after being partners for so many years. Even though people say that cop partners are like a married couple, in the most fundamental ways, they are not. A different kind of intimacy is involved, a type of emotional intimacy that Bobby has never shared before, and he struggles with it. Alex is impatient for him to adapt faster than he is able. So be patient and a little understanding of Bobby.

Besides, if there was no conflict there would be no story.

Bobby was a stubborn man. Alex was tired of sneaking around behind his back to talk to Dr. Bergman, and she had the feeling the doctor wasn't telling her everything. She wasn't sure who to blame for that. She was afraid he was going to withdraw his permission for the doctor to speak with her and then she would have no way to find out what was going on with him. So she began asking him to let her go with him to his next appointment. He said no, he didn't have one coming up.

So she scheduled the appointment for him. Bobby got mad and canceled the appointment, and an argument brewed between them. In the squad room, they ignored each other. Neither would concede to the other. Conveniently for Bobby, a new case had him tied up for long hours, which made Alex worry more about his health.

Albright sensed something was wrong between his partner and her husband, since Alex wasn't even trying to take her lunches with Bobby. Bobby was already at his desk when Albright got there in the morning, usually about a half hour before Alex arrived, and he always stayed well after Alex left, usually sequestered in a conference room with his evidence. They never headed to the break room together or the snack machine or even the water fountain outside the restrooms. She rarely even looked in the direction of his desk. The rare times he caught Goren looking in her direction, his face was stormy.

Albright was very uncomfortable with the abnormal situation. He wanted to be a good partner, to show Alex that he would be there for her, if she needed him, like a friend should be. Partners were supposed to be even closer. So he broached the subject one morning as they were on their way to talk with a witness. "Uh, Alex?"

"What is it, Cutter?"

He hesitated for a moment. That wasn't exactly a friendly invitation to conversation. Steeling himself, he barreled ahead. "Is everything okay—with you and Goren, I mean? You seem to be...uh, avoiding him."

Alex's first inclination was to snap at her partner, tell him to back off and mind his own business, but she stopped herself. "Everything is fine," she answered. "He's being stubborn and I'm just giving it back to him."

"Oh." He was silent for another block or two. "Are you sure there's nothing wrong?"

"What makes you ask that?"

"I noticed he's putting in a lot of hours."

"That's how he works a case."

"If there's anything you want to talk about, I'm here, you know. I may not have a wife, but I'm not a stranger to relationships. And I'm a good listener."

Alex smiled. "Thanks, Cutter. I appreciate that."

He was reassured by her smile, but she said no more and he felt bad that he was of no help to her.

A couple of days later, Bobby left the squad room early. Very early. Alex approached Mike. "Where did Bobby go?"

"If you'd talk to him, you'd know what was going on."

"Don't start, Logan. I'm not the one who started this and I don't need shit from you."

"We had a rough interrogation. He overdid it a little and he's going home to unwind. It took me two hours to convince him to go home, so please don't go chasing him back in here. I'm tired."

"Overdid it how?"

"He's tired, too. He's been putting in a lot of hours. It was a very active interrogation, and a very long one. He's earned a little time."

"Is he okay?"

"I hope so."

"Mike..."

Mike fiddled with his pen. "He said his chest was feeling tight. He needs a break."

"Thanks."

After a few quick words with her partner, Alex left the squad room.

His car was parked in front of the house. He hadn't seen the place in daylight in nearly a week. Alex pulled into the driveway and trotted to the front door. She went into the house and began to search for him.

She found him in the back yard, sitting on the steps of the deck, even though the temperature hadn't hit forty. She smelled the lingering smoke and she knew his chest had to be hurting. Bracing herself, she stepped up to him and gently played with his hair. "You should be wearing a hat."

"Don't mother me."

"Sometimes you need mothering."

"Not from you. You're my wife."

"Oh, you remember that, do you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She tipped her head back and took a deep breath. "Dammit, Bobby, I'm tired of being mad at you."

"So stop being mad."

"As soon as you let me go with you to the doctor. You've canceled three appointments I've made. I'm sure the girl at the desk doesn't appreciate being stuck in the middle of our battles."

"Stop making appointments, then."

"Okay, you make it. I just want to go along."

"I don't need you to hold my hand."

"That's not what this is about! I want to hear what the doctor has to say."

"Go see him behind my back, like you've been doing. Isn't that more fun anyway?"

"Would you stop it? I am worried about you."

Bobby looked at the joint in his hand. He had been feeling better before Alex started in on him. Now his chest was tightening again and he was angry. He finished the smoke and went into the house. She followed.

He dropped his jacket on the couch and spun to face his wife. Surprised by his sudden turn, she gasped a little and stepped back away from him. He froze in place and frowned. "Do you think I would hurt you?"

"Of course not. You startled me, that's all. I didn't expect you to turn like that."

He pushed his hand through his hair and rubbed his chest. "Why is this so important to you?"

"Why is it so important for you to exclude me?"

"It's...not your concern."

"The hell it's not. Your health is very much my concern."

"I don't go with you to the gynecologist."

"I wouldn't stop you if you wanted to go."

He turned and started to walk away. Something snapped and she slipped into a rage. "What the hell are you hiding, Goren? Got someone on the side that you see after your appointments?"

Bobby stopped moving. Slowly, he turned toward her, his face a mask of stormy rage. "What? How the fuck can you even think that?"

"I don't know what to think," she raged back at him. "You won't talk to me!"

"Maybe the truth is worse than your worst nightmare," he growled. "Maybe that's what I'm protecting you from, because that's my fucking job, to protect my goddam family."

"I don't need to be protected by you," she yelled back. "That's how you got into this mess in the first place, you neandertal! Stop protecting me!"

He bunched his shaking hands into fists, spun away from her and stormed for the door.

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

"Fuck off," he growled, and he left the house.

The tires squealed as he pulled away from the curb. She turned back into the living room, looked at his jacket laying on the couch and burst into tears.

After school, the kids went directly to Reggie's to join their siblings until either Bobby or Alex picked them up. Lately, it was only Alex because Bobby was at work so late. Alex still wondered what he was hiding. She knew it wasn't another woman—she'd said that just because she was so mad and she knew it would get a rise out of him. Bobby was faithful, of that she had no doubt.

She called Reggie and asked her to keep the kids because she had to be in the city late. After reassuring her that everything was fine, Alex headed to Brooklyn.

Denise had been home from the hospital for more than a week. Mike hired a housekeeper to help her around the house and with the baby, and, although she'd put up a token resistance, Denise was happy for the company and the help. After Mrs. Aragusa left, Denise began to make dinner. After cutting up the chicken, she set a pan on the stove and added a little oil. She was surprised by a knock at the door. She was even more surprised to find Alex standing in the hall.

"Alex?"

"Hi, Denise. Do you have a minute or two?"

"Sure. Come in. I'm just making dinner."

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you. The doctors are happy with my progress and I have more energy now."

Alex was glad to hear that she was doing well. She followed Denise into the kitchen.

Denise sensed Alex's discomfort. "Want to give me a hand?" she offered.

"Sure," Alex replied, accepting a knife and a bell pepper from Denise's hand.

While she worked on the pepper, Alex said, "I don't know what to do with him."

"He's a stubborn one," Denise agreed mildly as she diced an onion.

"That's an understatement."

"He said you accused him of being unfaithful."

"I was so angry. That popped out before I could stop it. Bobby would never be unfaithful."

"I'm glad you know that."

"He came close once, with you."

Denise stopped chopping and looked at her, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"He refused to be with me as long as I was still married to Ricky, even though Ricky was in jail and I had initiated divorce proceedings."

"He has a very strong moral compass."

"I'd like to break that moral compass sometimes. He was nervous about the divorce, especially that last hearing because Ricky kept postponing it, but he wouldn't come to me about it. So he went to you. The last time he was with you was the night before my final divorce hearing, the one when he found out Maggie wasn't Ricky's child...and that I was pregnant again." She smiled wistfully. "He still doesn't remember the night Maggie was conceived. It still bothers him."

Denise was very still. "Alex, I had no idea. I mean, I knew you weren't together yet, and I kind of knew why he was waiting. I pushed as hard as he would let me, but he was adamant. You are the only married woman he ever slept with, and he struggled with that for a very long time. It got worse after he found out Maggie was his, because that was a slip he never knew about." She sighed. "He's so complicated."

"That's why we argue so much. He's still learning how to be with me."

"Can I ask what this argument is about?"

"I want to go to the doctor with him. I'm afraid the poor receptionist is caught in the middle of dueling appointments. He cancels every one I make."

"Why is he so resistant? That's not like him."

"I think there's something he doesn't want me to know, but when I say that, he gets even angrier and tells me he's not hiding anything."

"Do you believe him?"

"I don't know. I want to, but if he's not hiding anything, why does he care if I go to the doctor with him?"

"He struggles with how much you care, Alex. For that matter, he also struggles with how much he cares about you. He's still not comfortable with the level of emotional intimacy you share, and you haven't been together that long."

"You'd think the partnership would have prepared him."

"It's a different kind of intimacy, a much more intense kind of caring. He always struggled with his feelings for you."

"Where is he?"

"He and Mike went out. Sometimes they go to the batting cages, sometimes to the pool hall. Nothing much has changed. Something is bothering Bobby and Mike needs to figure it out." She sighed. "It's not all that complicated. Mike just wants him to talk to him."

"Do you have any idea what's wrong?"

She dumped the onions and peppers in the pan of hot oil. "I think so. He's scared."

"Scared? Bobby?"

Denise nodded. "He can look down the barrel of a loaded gun and never flinch because he has some semblance of control in the situation. He's got a handle on it, or he thinks he does, and that's enough for him. But his health, this thing with his heart...that's different. He has no control over it and he can't fix it, so he's at a loss over what to do. He can't bully his body into submission. And he's scared, because this may be the one that finally takes him down for the count. This may be the one he can't fight his way back from. And if he brings you in on it, then it will be real, and he's not quite ready to face reality."

Why hadn't she been able to see that? Was it that she couldn't see the forest for the trees, or did Denise know him that much better than she did? Denise had a lot more experience with Bobby on many more levels than she did. "Does he talk to you?" she asked. "I mean does he really confide in you?"

Denise laughed softly. "No. That's not Bobby. There's only one person I know that he's ever really confided in."

"Mike."

Denise nodded as she added the cut-up chicken pieces to the pan in front of her. "Yes. Mike. But they are cut from the same cloth, bound by long-ago experiences at the hands of abusive parents. They understand each other, and Mike knows how to get him to talk. You and I, we're a cut above them. We had good stable homes, loving parents. That was something they never knew, something they learned from us. But when the world turns on its side and we think they need to confide in us, they'll seek out the understanding, the brotherhood, that they can only find in each other. It's not a slight against us, and it doesn't mean they love us any less. It's just...they need each other to fill a void that you and I can't touch."

"Why doesn't he trust me?"

"He trusts you implicitly, but he knows you can't understand the world he came from. No matter how many years you're a cop, you don't have that fundamental understanding that only experience can provide. And he won't burden you with trying to do the impossible. Instead, he goes to someone who knows, who lived through it and survived and became a good man in spite of it. There's nothing else he can do except bury it, and that's not healthy."

A cry rang out from the other room. "Oh," Denise muttered, looking down at the pan of half cooked chicken.

Alex smiled. "Go," she said as she took the wooden spoon from Denise's hand and slipped around her. "I've got this."

With a return smile, Denise washed her hands and whispered, "Thank you," as she hurried to tend to her baby son.

Alex finished off the chicken and checked on the rice, stirred it and left it to simmer a little longer. She found Denise in the nursery, rocking baby Sam and talking softly to him. She looked up when Alex stopped in the doorway. "Now I understand how you feel," she said quietly.

Alex nodded. "Remarkable, isn't it? Is he hungry? Can I fix him a bottle?"

"I think he was just lonely. Mike fed him before he and Bobby left."

"May I hold him? Do you mind?"

"Of course not."

She allowed Alex to step closer and take the baby in her arms. Alex grinned. "He's so tiny."

"But strong and healthy. I was afraid he wouldn't be."

"How could he not with you and Mike for parents? I'll bet he's going to be a wise-ass, too."

Denise laughed. "That's very likely."

Little Sam was soon sleeping, and Alex laid him in his crib. The women returned to the kitchen and together, they put the finishing touches on dinner.

Mike looked down the pool cue to line up his shot, then shifted his gaze to Bobby. He still wasn't talking. Mike watched as his friend's eyes followed one of the bar maids across the room. Something was very wrong. He took his shot, missed and walked back to Bobby's side. Bobby took a drink of his beer and stepped toward the table. Mike counted three empty glasses. Three beers—he wouldn't even feel that yet. They had a way to go.

Mike sank the eight ball. Bobby's game was definitely off. They pulled the balls from the pockets and Bobby racked them up. Mike stepped off to the side to let him break. "So, why did your wife accuse you of being unfaithful?" Mike ventured.

"Because I pissed her off."

Mike relaxed a little. They were getting there. Bobby was going to talk to him. "What'd you do this time?"

"She wants to go to the doctor with me."

Mike watched him take the breaking shot, and he was getting wound up. The cue ball hit the rack with a resounding crack and three balls fell into the corner pockets. "Solids," Bobby muttered.

"What's wrong with that?" Mike asked.

"I don't want her to go."

"Why?"

"Because I don't."

"Come on, man. You have a reason for everything you do."

"Shut up so I can shoot."

It was going to be a long night.

When they were done with their third game of pool, they sat down at the bar. Mike had gotten some information from Bobby, but he still had no idea why he was so dead set against Alex going to see his doctor with him. They sat side by side in silence until Bobby said, "It's a lot harder than I thought it would be."

"What is?"

"Marriage."

Mike snorted. "What made you think it would be easy?"

"I, uh...I love her so much. I've never loved anyone more. We were partners for ten years, but...everything changed."

"Of course everything changed. You fell in love with her."

"That was the best—and the worst—thing I ever did."

"Do you regret it?"

"Yes and no. I hate fighting all the time."

"Bobby, you are the most intense person I've ever known, and you're both very passionate. All that passion needs an outlet, and you can't have sex all the time. Fights are inevitable—but so is making up."

Bobby shifted on his barstool and smiled. "I like that part."

"Makes it worth the fight, huh?"

"Almost."

"How 'bout we head out? You've got some making up to do."

"Alex is home, though."

"So, we get you home."

Bobby scowled. "She's not gonna make up until I let her go to the doctor with me."

"So let her go. You know she's gonna win anyway. That's how to create a happy marriage. Let her have her way."

"I do, all the time. My question is: do I ever get to win?"

"Is it so important that you win this one? I really don't get why you're being so damn stubborn about this."

Bobby nursed his drink and closed his eyes. "My prognosis isn't very good, Mike. I guess it's my own fault. I haven't taken great care of myself. But she's gonna wanna...fix me, and that's not possible."

"Why do you think she's gonna try to fix you?"

"It's what she does. He told her about the benefits of medical marijuana and she got me some pot. What the hell is she gonna do after a whole hour of talking with Bergman?"

"Did you ever think that she's been through this once and maybe once was enough? Maybe she's ready to fight for the life of the man she loves because she doesn't want to bury another husband before his time."

"Who's to judge when someone's time is up?"

"Why wouldn't you do everything you can to hold off the inevitable?"

"Do you think I'm not doing everything I can?"

"Maybe you are, maybe not. You're hiding something, Bobby. We both know it, Alex and me. We're waiting for you to open up and tell us what's going on."

Bobby finished off his drink. "It's just bad timing, that's all. He wants to...discuss more treatment options. I just want to be able to consider what he has to offer without Alex pushing me to take the one she likes the best, whether I like it or not."

"That's where this revolutionary thing called communication comes in. It changes the entire ballgame. You should try it."

"You make it sound so simple."

"That's because it is."

Bobby focused his attention on his drink and the conversation was over.