It was the queen mother herself that finally broke the tenuous grasp she'd had on penning in any brand of emotion – and she thoroughly despised herself for it. Because when Gemma softly offered a clean set of sheets into her hands it seemed too much like a bag of silver to a Judas. And she knew that she couldn't speak because it would shatter the fact that this woman was, for once, letting a sort of forced tact between them. Telford's hands against her arms saved her as he leaned into her shoulder, letting his jaw catch even with the older woman's as he laid a kiss into her cheek.

"Thanks, mom." His whisper was woven with a respect that had Ally's skin flushing up hot but she tamped it down intentionally.

"Thank you." She angled toward the older woman softly, swallowing a whole lot more than indignation.

"You're welcome." Gemma blinked between them, her calculating eyes scattering over the way Chibs was completely curled into the back of the Sheriff's frame. "I had the crew call it a day. Should be quiet. Your room's still a mess though. You know that."

His voice was warm through his throat. "Just need the sleep, Gem. We're not lookin' for a Hilton."

"Jackson needs you at church later." She offered as he shifted Ally forward. "Or a proxy."

"I know that, Gemma." He'd already drawn from the interaction, hands guarding warmth onto Ally's hips as he shifted her farther forward.

"I don't know what I am." She admitted into the way she was blankly studying his hand over hers, the lay of his longer and stronger fingers between hers just before his rings bit on her, his fist closing tightly around her palm. "I did. I was sure I did. And now I don't."

"Stop, Ally." He curled her hand down into her chest, wrapping tighter around the way he'd cradled her into a smaller bed than they were used to laying into together. "Y've done nothing to change who you are."

"That's bullshit." She jerked into the way his jaw was fitted into her shoulder. "And you know it. Killing him wasn't necessary."

"Y'didn't wait for it to become necessary." His whisper was treading carefully against her ear, the smell of her hair an opiate that made him hazy in exhaustion. "Considering the possibilities, I appreciate that."

"I know I'm not a clean cop, Filip." Her voice was treading toward a fracture. "I know I'm not innocent. But this is… it's too far."

"This makes us a little more even, love." He wrapped her tighter, his hand clenching hers into the center line of her sternum. "And you're the only one judgin' yourself for it. So accept it and let yourself sleep."

"Or?" her whisper was too washed in sadness.

"Or we can't make this work." He hushed into the side of her throat, eyes shut against the possibility that she was too damn close from crawling out of his tightened up arms. "And it needs to stop. Right now."

"You're giving me an ultimatum right now?" the sudden flared up hissing in her voice barely preceded the roughened turning of her spine and he groaned an unending frustration into the jerk of movement. "I just shot a man in the head because he reached for you. For fuck's sake, Filip. Haven't I proven myself enough for today?"

"Have you?" he lifted their still grasped hands on a darkening glance, kissing the back of her hand with a pushing tone. "Y'have for me. But you're the one still ripping yourself up."

"I don't understand why it had to be you." Her eyes were tired but near on loving as her breathing suddenly went slow. "Why the one I can't leave behind is the one I shouldn't keep."

"Because you truly seem to enjoy wreckin' yourself over and again." He whispered his lips chastely onto hers as her fury finally settled. "And because answered prayers are usually punishments."

"People like us deserve to be punished." She turned her head into his neck, words dropped off in a sort of acceptance.

"You're right, Ally." He whispered back over her, feeling the way she tightened his fingers between hers. "So shut up and take your lumps or get the hell outta this bed."

"Make me." She shunted into his throat as she twisted into the front of him, her fingers prying out of his so that she could wrap against his shoulders.

"Aye." He finally rubbed his nose into her hair as he dragged her thigh up against his hip and wrapped her close. "And that's what I thought, Lieutenant."

"You think we can make this work?" her fingers were twisting up in his beads, head tucked at an angle into his neck and shoulder, her voice more than wistful and heading toward sleep. "Really?"

"Think we just made it clear we're gonna try like hell." Even he was surprised at the realization, his breathing sagging toward even. "Now would y'let me sleep? You're damn exhausting, Althea."

He felt her smile on the skin of his throat as her fingers wiped along his chest. "You love the tired, Telford. You enjoy the wreckage too. It's what keeps you going. Keeps you staying."

"I'm not in your interrogation room, Sheriff." He growled against the silken darkness of her hair as he pinned his hips angled over hers. "You're not gonna trip me up into sayin' something I don't necessarily mean yet. So shut up and go to sleep."

"You will." She turned the words into his jaw and he didn't need to see her eyes to know how smug they were as her hand stroked up his back and flat palmed his spine. "If you stay like this."

"Thought we'd decided neither of us was goin' anywhere." He lifted his head into her confident assertion, eyes catching the way she was curling a cat-catching-cream smile down over him.

"Go to sleep." Her fingers were a light tracing on his forehead, approval balancing her breathing even.

He just winced her a cocky smile, "You first."