Episode tag to 2.7 "Bad Hair Day," at the end of the day Tara gets her gun back, in which Bobby checks in with Tara on how she's doing after everything.

~0~

Everyone had already left for the day except Tara, who was doing some of her finger magic at her desk. Bobby wasn't sure what it was she was working on, but he was doing his best to keep himself busy until he was sure they were alone. When they were, and after letting several more moments pass, he rose to his feet and gradually wandered over to her desk, waiting to see if she would notice him.

She didn't look up until he was right by her, and when she did it was with a start, as though she wasn't aware anyone else was still in the building, let alone in the bullpen. "Oh! Hi, Bobby! Um, did you need something?"

"Oh, I just, uh, I just wanted to check in with you on something," he responded.

"Sure," she said, typing a few more things quickly, then pushing her keyboard to the side and folding her hands in front of him. Looking up at him intently as he perched on the edge of her desk, she asked, "What'd you need?"

"Well . . . actually, I wanted to check if—if you need anything."

Tara blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that response. "Oh! Um . . . not . . . that I can think of? Why?"

He picked up one of her little desk toys and started absently tossing it between his hands, if only for something for his hands to be doing. "Oh, nothing, nothing. It's silly, I just, um . . . ."

She frowned at his hesitation, not used to seeing him hesitant in much of anything. "Bobby, why? Y-you clearly have a reason for asking, so . . . what's up?"

He sighed. "Look, um . . . I know you probably don't want me mentioning this but um . . . well, I know when you ran out of the room earlier . . . crying . . . I know that Sue came and talked to you and you seemed much happier when you came back. But I still . . . I mean, we've known each other a long time now, worked together a long time, and I just wanted to be sure you knew that . . . I'm here too. If you need to . . . to talk more. Or anything." He took a deep breath before adding, "Especially since . . . well, I know I'm probably not as caring as Sue—I'm not sure anyone in the world is—" That earned him a crooked smile in response to his own. "—but I do have the experience of having had to discharge a firearm . . . and take a life to save another. So if . . . if you need to talk . . . I'm here."

She smiled at how sweet he was being, then considered her screen for a moment. "You know," she said, "I'm about done here. Fancy a hot dog in the park?"

He smiled. "I'm all yours."

~0~

As they strolled along in the waning sun, munching on street cart hot dogs of dubious quality, Tara was glad to have the company of this man she'd come to consider one of her dearest friends. Everyone on the team was her friend, of course—even Myles, she supposed, in his own way—but she had always felt like she had a special bond with Bobby.

They weren't saying much, mostly just teasing each other about their condiment choices—"Just mustard? Who gets just mustard?" "At least I'm not trying to load every condiment known to mankind on there into some sort of bizarre hotdog soup!"—until they'd finished eating and tossed their trash in a nearby can. Then, as they strolled along slowly, he asked her carefully, "So, um . . . did you want to talk about it or . . . ?"

She sighed. "Not really, but I probably should."

She didn't think that made much sense, even when she was saying it, but he nodded with an expression on his face that seemed fully familiar with the sentiment. So, with another deep breath, she began. "I just . . . was really worried all week. You know? I mean . . . it was the first time I'd ever discharged my gun—I mean, other than at the range of course—and I killed a man. And I wasn't even . . . all I could feel was relief that I'd killed him before he could shoot someone else. I wasn't sorry. It's a human life, you should never get used to that, right?" The pace of both her steps and her words had picked up as she spoke, until Bobby was no longer having to shorten the stride of his long legs to walk beside her, and the words were tumbling out of her mouth. She didn't seem aware of either of these things, though, focused as she was on what she needed to say. "And then we were all caught up in Crazy Loco's stuff and I couldn't even really spend much time thinking about how we'd gotten there, and then after we got him, and after Garrett brought my gun, back, it was like, all of a sudden it fully hit me, that the hand that pulled the trigger was holding the gun that the trigger was pulled on. That I, with that hand, with that gun, that I had loaded, that I had aimed, had taken a man's life. And it was all deemed okay because it was 'within policy.'"

Bobby put a hand on Tara's arm, and she came to an abrupt halt, turning to him with tears in her eyes. "Hey, luv," he said softly. "I've been there."

She nodded, swallowing. "I know. I told Sue that the part I'd thought I'd lost—that made me wonder if I should still be an agent if it could take that from me—that that part was just hiding instead. But she said that it'd been closed off and I'd opened myself up to feelings again and . . . that my heart was whole again."

He smiled, wiping away a tear that had escaped the brim of her lower lid and started trickling down her cheek. "She's a wise woman. I should've known she would've had just the right things to say even though she hasn't been in that exact situation herself."

Tara smiled. "Yeah. But . . . I still . . . I wonder if it's possible to really be whole again. After . . . ." She swallowed hard. "After shooting someone." The tears in her eyes flooded over at that point, and there was no catching them all. She was wracked with sobs and the only thing he could do was wrap her in his embrace and let her lean past the lapels of his open jacket and soak the front of his shirt.

After several minutes, when her sobs were slowing down again, he gently led her, arm still around her shoulder, to a nearby bench where he sat them both down. She laid her head on his shoulder and they just sat there for several minutes before he spoke.

"My first time," he said softly, "I'd been on a raid. There was this—" He swallowed hard. "This kid there. Little, maybe three or four, ended up with CPS when it was all over." He'd added that part just then so she would know the child survived. "There was this whole drug ring we were busting, and the kingpin was in there, but so were several of his cronies. We knew about the kid, but we'd gotten bad intel. Her mom had left for the night and we thought the girl was gone too. When it was all going down, this one stooge, big-time dealer for the kingpin despite being very young, caught the kid up and tried to use her as a human shield." He shook his head at the memory. "I got a clean shot and I took it. Took him out in one. I will never erase from my mind the image of that kid falling into her captor's blood, or of the guy I shot, who wasn't much more than a kid himself."

She was looking up at him with concern now, and as his own eyes had filled with tears, she reached up to brush one away. "Bobby, that's . . . that's terrible. I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

He shrugged. "I hate that it happened, but it's part of the gig. Because of me, that little girl could grow up out of the clutches of those drug runners, and I hope she was lucky enough to get into a loving home to do so." He chucked her chin lightly. "And because of you, in a whole salon full of innocents, only the guilty party died. You're right, you never get over taking a human life. If you can get over it, that's when it's time to get out. But you're wrong about never being whole again. You're changed. But you're whole."

She smiled sadly, then on impulse gave him a hug again. "Thank you, Bobby. You were right, I really did need this." After sitting back a moment, regarding him with curiosity, she asked, "Why . . . why did you? Uh, seek me out for this, I mean? Since you said that I looked happier after talking to Sue—and, I mean, I didn't even know anyone but Sue saw me leave the room."

"I always see you," he said softly, then cleared his throat. "Uh, I mean—"

She put her finger over his lips. "Bobby, whatever you were about to say, it felt like you were trying to come up with a convenient way to walk that back. I don't want you to walk it back. This week has already had too much uncertainty. Please, whatever . . . whatever the truth is. Whatever you were about to say before you stopped yourself. Will you tell me that version?"

Unable to stop himself, he kissed the finger that was on his lips and she jumped, pulling her finger away like he'd shocked her. He took a deep breath, then said, "There are some things that . . . even if you're still whole no matter how they shake out . . . they change things. You've already had one of those this week. Are you sure you want me to keep talking and risk giving you another?"

She hesitated only a moment before nodding slowly but with certainty.

He closed his eyes to focus on breathing for just a moment as he sought exactly the words he had really wanted to convey to her before. "Tara . . . I always see you. I see you coming in . . . or going out . . . or just staring intensely at your computer screen for hours on end. You're . . . you've always been special to me, you know. Someone I connect with . . . deeper . . . than anyone else on the team. Deeper than anyone else I've known. I've never . . . never wanted to tell you this because, um—well, because frankly, I'm a sporty guy and you're a techie girl and in my experience, those don't tend to go well together. But that hasn't stopped me from noticing your beauty, your charm, your delightful little quirks." Unable to stop himself, he brushed a strand of hair back from her forehead, lost in her eyes. "And I would never want to ruin the great friendship that we have because you mean everything to me, but . . . I also . . . I just have to know that you're okay. I can't help it. I just have to know."

Tara stared, searching his eyes, memories assailing her mind. Laughing with him, joking with him, teasing each other or ganging up to tease someone else, offering comfort, the innumerable times that he was suddenly standing right next to her and she was torn because she loved the comfort of knowing he was there, but it was torture knowing the guy she had been crushing on for years but was sure never looked at her as more than a little sister, was standing by her side. She had been so focused on trying to suppress her own feelings it had never occurred to her that he might have those same feelings.

"Tara?" he said when the pause went on too long. "I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable. You asked me to be honest, and I just—we can forget I ever—"

Her mouth against his effectively stopped that sentence, and his entire stream of thought. She kissed him only for a moment, but it was a moment longer than either of them had ever thought they would get.

When they pulled back to gauge one another's reactions, she still didn't seem to have any words in response. He finally asked, "Really? You mean it? You—you're not just being nice after what I said?"

For a woman who was so prone to nervous chattering, Tara seemed to be stuck in a long stretch of having lost all her words. Thankfully, she had discovered a much better way to communicate to Bobby what she wanted to tell him. This time, the kiss was much deeper, much longer, and left absolutely no doubt in his mind of exactly what she meant.

~0~

AN: Did I remember to mention that if I have a Bobby/Tara story where they never talk about Stanley/Darcy, you can assume that in my brain neither of them are with either of those people or anyone else for [insert reason here]? I mean, honestly, I really just leave a blank spot in my brain. They're not together for [reason]. I don't need to know the reason. I just need to know they're not cheating on them, because I don't think either of them would do that.