A/N: So, I am fully aware that I posted a Brad/Lori story about two seconds ago, and declared that I didn't care if she was off the show. However, since then, I have changed my mind. Perhaps I haven't completely moved on, but the last episode was enough to sway me to another point of view for a while. And since I have a hard time writing Alan, my writing impulses led to this. Hope you enjoy it, and remember reviews keep me sane. Thanks a bunch.

Denise Bauer unlocked the door to her house, opened it, crossed the threshold, and closed the door behind her. Closing her eyes wearily, she slumped against it, letting her briefcase and bag drop to the floor. For a few moments, she just breathed, in and out. Finally, she straightened up, took off her coat, and meandered over to the sofa. She acknowledged the fact that she was exhausted, but she wasn't quite ready to sleep.

Brad's trial had completely drained her of energy. When he had gotten the not guilty verdict, she didn't think she had ever felt so relieved in her life. She knew he had helped her willingly, but she couldn't help feeling as though the whole thing was her fault. There was also the nagging thought that Tito's disappearance had been her fault as well. A lot of guilt packed into a short span of time- it could definitely wear a person out. Denise tried not to think about what would have happened if Brad had gone to jail.

The clock said nine o'clock. Denise kicked off her shoes, picked up the television remote, and absently flipped through the channels until she found a rerun of "Law and Order." Five minutes into it and she turned it off- she couldn't focus, not even on a recycled law drama plot. She couldn't think; she couldn't do anything. She was too tired….

The next thing Denise knew, she was being jarred from sleep by her doorbell. Startled, she glanced instinctively at the clock- it was only nine-twenty. She must have dozed off. Getting to her feet, she padded to the door and pulled it open, only to find Brad on the other side. She could feel her features taken over by surprise, but managed to pull herself together. "Brad."

"Hi."

"Hi."

Pause. "Did I wake you?"

"What? Oh-" she self-consciously smoothed her rumpled hair. "No, I just dozed off. Do you- want to come in? I could make tea…."

"Yeah. Thanks."

She stood back to let him in, then closed the door behind him, locking it. She wordlessly led him to the kitchen, where he sat down in one of her wooden chairs and watched as she filled a teapot with water and set it on a burner. While it heated, she joined him at the table, lowering herself into the chair next to him. Neither spoke. The silence was comfortable, but also anticipatory. They both jumped a little when the kettle began to sing. Denise got up to turn off the stove. "Do you like chamomile?"

He didn't, really. "Sure."

She poured them each a mug and carried them to the table, handing him a teabag. Brad noticed his mug had faded pink hearts on it, and Denise's was a solid light blue. He figured it was about time for him to say something, although Denise didn't seem to be in any particular rush to find out why he was there. "I came to say thank you."

She raised her eyes quickly, staring at him piercingly. "Why? What did I do? What could you possibly have to thank me for?" The guilt was back. He was thanking her? She had no claims to his gratitude. He could be in prison right now because of her. "Brad- you risked you career and your freedom to help me get back my housekeeper's kidnapped son. We broke about ten different laws, and you got nabbed for it. If it weren't for Shirley... Brad, you shouldn't be thanking me. I've done nothing but put get you into trouble."

"Denise, what happened to me was not your fault. I chose to participate. I'm glad I did, I already told you that. I'm thanking you for two things. First, for caring enough to come and talk to me the other night. I want to you to know I appreciate it. I was trying not to think about how I was feeling- I just wanted to get through the trial. And no one was asking, anyway. But you did. You cared about me as a person, not just as a defendant. It was- well, like I said, I appreciated it. Secondly, I want to thank you for wanting to testify. I know you felt guilty, but still, you could have had an out. I was the only one in trouble with the law. You were willing to risk your own career to help me. So, thank you for that as well. Not everyone would have been willing to do what you did, even if you ultimately didn't take the stand."

Denise looked at him. Christ, he meant all of this. He was actually thanking her- for caring. It was a little hard for her to comprehend. "Well," she finally said, "I guess we're mutually thankful."

She looked down at the table, her hands wrapped around her cooling mug. The seconds ticked away. Once again, the silence seemed to be waiting to be filled. There didn't seem to be anything else to say, but Denise felt she had to say something. She opened her mouth. "Brad?" He looked up. Her eyes searched his face as she continued. "Is it wrong that I want to kiss you right now?"

He took a moment to respond. When he did, his eyes were fixed firmly on hers, and his voice was low. "I don't know. If it is, then I guess I'm wrong, too."

The seconds seemed to freeze as his statement sunk into both of them. Then all at once time began to move again, and their lips made contact.

It was a safe kiss. It was warm, and soft, and somewhat hesitant. And it was just what Brad and Denise needed. They kissed again. Denise scooted her chair closer to Brad's and swung her legs around to face him, her hands moving to his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her closer. His tongue slipped into her mouth.

All at once, the kiss stopped being safe. Urgency took over as their mouths moved against each other and his hands found her shirt hem. The feel of one of his warm hands spread against her spine was enough to force a moan from deep within her throat, and her low sound was enough to jar him back to reality. He pulled back, opened his eyes, and removed his head from her hands. Her eyes fluttered open and fixed upon him with a look of mingled curiosity, shyness, and desire. Trying to find the proper words, all she could come up with was, "What's the matter?"

He sighed, attempting to level his breathing. "Nothing. I'm fine. I just think it's probably time for me to go home. I don't want our mutual thankfulness to lead to anything we would regret a few hours from now. Anyway, it's getting late. Thank you for the tea. I'll see you tomorrow." He got up, placed his mug on the counter, and strode out of the kitchen to the door.

It took a moment for Denise to regain enough control of her faculties to take stock of the situation and get up to follow him. He had unlocked her door and was halfway down the front walkway when she reached the entrance and called after him. "Brad!"

He turned around, and their eyes locked. "Yes?"

Keeping all emotion out of her voice, she posed a simple question. "What if I wouldn't regret it?"

It took a split second for Brad to make up his mind, before his 'what the hell' side made one of its rare appearances and guided him back up the walkway, up the two steps to Denise's doorway, and into her arms. He closed the door behind him. Consequences could be considered in a few hours.