Disclaimer: Clearly, not mine. But, oh…if they were….

A/N: If this story had a theme song, it would be "Realize" by Colbie Callait.

If you just realize what I just realized

Then we'd be perfect for each other and we'd never find another

If you just realize what I just realized

Then we'll never have to wonder if we missed out on each other now.

"Scotty…we need to talk."

No sooner are the words out of my mouth than I instantly regret them. We need to talk? That's what you say when you're about to break up with someone, not tell them you just realized you're in love with them. God. No wonder I can't keep a guy around longer than two months.

Scotty's looking a little alarmed as he's standing there at the stove, stirring the eggs. He pauses, mid-stir, and I see a flicker of irritation in his dark eyes. Irritation is a good thing. It's actually what we want with suspects when we're interviewing them…poke at 'em a little, see where their soft spots are, and then go for it until they crack. And I realize, with a heart-wrenching certainty, that that's how I need to approach this. I have to approach it as an interrogator; keep my heart and my feelings out of it, if I want to learn what I need to know, if I have any chance of making a clear-headed decision about this at all.

The irritation passes, and Scotty recovers as he takes the eggs off the stove and dishes them onto two plates. They really do look good.

"Breakfast first, talk later," he replies with a grin, pouring me a cup of coffee as I dig into my breakfast. He was right...those eggs are delicious. I give him a slight smile in return. It would be so easy not to talk, and I so want to give in, but…we need to talk. Dammit.

I let him have a few bites of his scrambled eggs, and then I try again.

"Scotty," I say firmly. "I think…we need to talk about last night."

He smiles then, kind of a twisted smile, and shrugs slightly. "Okay, then," he begins. "Let's talk about last night."

I sigh with relief, but that relief is cut short by his next words.

"Let's talk about how come I woke up and found you in my bed this mornin'," he says, glancing at me with satisfaction as he takes another bite of his eggs.

Crap. This is not what I'd planned.

I can see the panic in her eyes, and I'm instantly regrettin' it a little bit. I'm afraid Lil's just gonna cut and run right there, just bolt outta my apartment without a backward glance. I see it in her eyes…oh, she's thinkin' about it. She wants to run, all right. But…she doesn't. She just sits there, takes another bite of her eggs, and seems to steel herself for somethin'. Good God, is she actually gonna…tell me? I must be a better interrogator than I thought.

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay," she finally says.

Aww, ain't that sweet? It also ain't a straight answer.

"Okay," I say calmly. "Maybe that explains why you came over. But that doesn't explain why you cleaned up the glass in here, why you came into my room, and why you laid down next to me and fell asleep in my bed. You wanna check on me, you peek in, see I'm sleepin', and leave. Try again, Rush," I say with a grin.

I can see just a little annoyance in those beautiful blue eyes of hers. Annoyance is good. Means I'm gettin' to her. It's dawned on me that I'm gonna have to treat Lil, the woman who owns my heart, the woman I love, like a damn suspect if I'm gonna get anything out of her. I can't be a man in love right now…I gotta be a cop. And I hate the hell outta that, but it's what I gotta do.

Too late, I realize I left a question wide open, and sure enough, she pounces.

"What about that broken glass, Scotty?" she asks quietly, around a mouthful of eggs. "Why was there a mostly empty bottle of scotch on your table? How come there's a dent in the wall and a shattered glass in your trash can? Looks like you came in still pissed off at John, knocked back a few, and passed out on the bed." She peers into my eyes.

I sigh. Well, I can at least own up to gettin' pissed off and drunk. That won't give anything away.

"Yeah, pretty much," I say lightly, tryin' to sound casual, hopin' beyond all hope she doesn't ask…

"But why the broken glass?" she asks. "Why'd you fling it against the wall? Something else must have happened."

Shit. I know the questions that are gonna come outta her mouth before she even asks 'em, but that doesn't do me a damn bit of good when it comes to answerin' 'em.

I answer Lil's question with one of my own. "Why'd you clean it up?" I ask, raisin' one of my eyebrows at her. "You coulda just left it there, y'know…how come you took it upon yourself to take care of it? 'Cause I know that ain't the first time you've done somethin' like that."

Oooh, score a point for me. Lil's glarin' at me all Ice Queen-like for a minute, then puts on her mask and takes a sip of her coffee. It ain't much, but I'll take every inch that woman cares to give me. She is so damn hard to figure out.

"This isn't about my childhood, Scotty," she says icily. "This is about you and me and last night."

I get annoyed then. We're gonna do this dance all day if I don't put my foot down.

"Lil…what do you really wanna know?" I ask softly.

She glances up in surprise. Don't think she expected that. That another point for me?

Nope.

"I wanna know why you kicked the crap out of John Smith," she says.

I can tell by the stunned look in Scotty's eyes that he wasn't expecting that question, and by the anger that replaces it that he doesn't want to answer. He gathers up our empty plates and sets them in the sink with way more force than he needs to, and for a second, I think I might have to find that broom and dustpan again, but the dishes don't break. Neither does he.

"Wouldn't you?" he asks me, as he takes his position on the other side of the counter and leans his arms on it. "Sick freak gets his jollies by lockin' girls in a dungeon and watchin' 'em lose their will to live, and that doesn't piss you off?"

"I don't think that's all it was, Scotty," I say, my voice rising a little. "Because the moment you snapped..." I pause, gathering my courage, ignoring the fury in his eyes, that dark, glittering fury that should be warning me to back the hell away, to not go there…and if I weren't being a cop right now, I'd leave it alone. But right now…I have to be a cop. It's the only way I'll get the information I need.

"The moment you snapped," I continue, "was right after John said I was familiar with not looking for a way out anymore. And I wanna know why that, of all things…why that did it."

His eyes flash fire, and I can tell he's about to erupt, but suddenly, the fire cools, it turns to something else…something like…inspiration. Oh, crap. I just gave him an opening, didn't I?

"Let's talk about that, Lil," he says softly, though I can detect the undercurrent of rage, simmering there, barely beneath the surface of his his words. "Let's talk about you bein' familiar with that."

I see the shock in her eyes, and it cuts me to the quick. I was hopin' it wouldn't be true, was hopin' that maybe I was readin' somethin' that wasn't there, but the look in her eyes tells me I was right all along, goddammit. She did think about givin' up. I knew it. I fuckin' knew it. Suddenly, I smack the counter with my fist, and she glances over at me in surprise, askin' a wordless question with those blue eyes of hers.

I don't wanna know. But yet I do. I gotta know how bad I screwed up, gotta know how bad Lil gettin' shot hurt her, gotta know how much damage I did to her. Call me masochistic, but I gotta know the worst of it. 'Cause if I don't know how bad it got for her, I'm gonna just spend the rest of my life torturin' myself by imaginin' the worst.

"I…never gave up, Scotty," she protests slowly, not meetin' my eyes.

"You thought about it," I press, leanin' over her like we're in the interview room. I gotta know. I gotta know all the gory details. I'm a glutton for punishment. Damn that Catholic guilt of mine.

"No," she says, but I know she's lyin', and my heart breaks a little bit.

I smack the counter with both hands, and the coffee cup that's still sittin' there jumps a little bit. So does Lil, for that matter.

"Don't…lie to me, Lil," I order heatedly, through clenched teeth, and she looks a little alarmed. She's never been interrogated by me before, and even though we're talkin' about the last thing I wanna talk about, I can't help but be a little bit proud of myself. My interrogation skills are comin' along nicely.

"I'm not," she says weakly, but she still ain't lookin' at me.

"Come on," I scoff, pushin' myself off the counter and pacin' around the kitchen. "I know you better than that. I've worked by your side for almost five years. I know when somethin's gettin' to you."

"So you snapped because he got to me?" she says, and I'm just dumbfounded at how fast she turned the tables on me. Damn, she's good. And I can't tell her the real reason…the reason I just figured out over a few shots of scotch at six this morning.

"God, Lil," I say finally, with an exasperated sigh and an incredulous glance in her direction. "I just hate seein' you get hurt is all."

Dammit. I knew it. I knew not to get my hopes up. I knew I was just another broken-wing girl for him to save. I knew he was just getting his Alpha Male "Rescue The Princess" fix. And let's face it, he doesn't exactly have any other projects going at the moment. Alex Thomas is the last woman who'd need rescuing.

"I don't need you to rescue me, Scotty," I fling at him. I just need you to love me.

"No?" he replies, arching his eyebrows at me like he does with suspects.

"No," I say firmly. "I'm fine."

"You ain't fine, Lil!" he bursts out, as he leaves the kitchen and starts pacing around the living room. "You're havin' panic attacks--"

"Just the one," I protest, following him in. He doesn't need to know about the dozens I've had when he wasn't around.

He gives me a look that says no way in hell does he believe me, and I won't press the point for now. We've got bigger fish to fry.

He picks up right where he left off. "You're havin' panic attacks, you ain't sleepin', and you've been wanderin' around for months like a damn zombie, like somebody just hollowed out all your insides and filled you up with Styrofoam or somethin'," he continues. "What the hell's goin' on with you, Lil? You ain't…you ain't you anymore."

"I got shot! My mother died!" I finally burst out. "I'm allowed to not be okay for a while. You, of all people, should know that. You didn't exactly handle it all that well three years ago."

Oh, shit. I cannot believe I just said that.

Scotty stands there, just staring at me for a minute. He can't believe I just said that, either. His eyes are darkening with pain, and he swallows hard. Oh, God. I wanna just turn around and run, but I can't move. I'm frozen to the floor. Completely paralyzed. It feels like that time we fought in the lobby about Christina. When will I ever learn to think before I lash out at him?

"You're right," he says softly. "I didn't...handle it well. But just because you ain't makin' stupid decisions right and left like I did doesn't mean you're handlin' it, well, either. God, Lil…I know how much it hurts to have someone you love die on you, I know how much it hurts to not get a goodbye, or at least one that makes any kinda sense. I don't know what it's like to lose a parent, but I know what it's like to…lose someone. You just ain't the same after…you ain't supposed to be. The pain doesn't ever totally go away…but it does get better. And…I could help you with that. I wanna help you with that, Lil, but you won't let me in."

He stops, then suddenly smiles a little bit. After what we've just been talking about, I can't believe he's smiling.

"What?" I ask him suspiciously.

"You just admitted you ain't okay," he says, as he turns to face me and folds his arms across his chest, and I can't help but notice there's a tiny little twinkle of triumph in his dark eyes.

Something about that just makes my blood start to boil. "Okay, Scotty…you wanna know how I am? You wanna know how…not okay…I am?" I demand, and he's knocked back on his heels, I can tell. That cocky triumphant look is out of his eyes, and it's been replaced by a little bit of fear. Time to go for it. Pretend he's a suspect. You gotta give a little to get a little, and this is gonna be hard, it's gonna rip his heart out, I can tell, but I gotta do it. Rip off the band-aid, Rush. Get it over with.

"Last night? That was the first good night's sleep I've had in months. I've had more than just the one panic attack. Everything scares me…loud noises, gunshots on TV, hell, cars backfiring'll do it sometimes. Every time I'm in that observation room, I see myself lying there on the floor. I keep havin' this nightmare, where they're wheeling me into surgery, and they keep asking me who they want me to call, if there's anybody I want them to call, who can we call, Lilly, who can we call? And there's nobody they can call, Scotty. Nobody. I've never felt so alone in my life. And you wanna know the truth? Fine. Here it is. Yes, I thought about giving up. But I didn't."

His eyes flash with panic then, and, if I'm not mistaken…no. I'm not mistaken…those are tears in his eyes. It looks like they're on the verge of spilling over. God, I hate myself right now. I know I just brought up all those memories of Elisa, and that's the last thing I wanna do. I sink down on the couch with a sigh.

I knew it. I knew it all along…but to hear her say it, to hear those words from her lips; how alone she felt, how she keeps havin' this nightmare 'bout bein' by herself…how she almost gave up…and to know that I'm the reason for it all…that's just a knife to my heart.

I wanna run. I wanna just run…far, far away from here, so I never have to look her in the eyes again, so I never have to know just how bad I screwed up with her, how bad I let her down. It's my fault she got shot. She said "hey," she needed me, and I blew it. I fuckin' blew it. Just like I always do.

Lil's watchin' me, and I know she can see that I'm fightin' back tears. I can't help it. The truth hurts. I gotta do somethin'…gotta distract her from the fact that I'm about to lose it…gotta get it under control again.

So I turn on her. "But you weren't alone," I fling at her, hopin' my voice sounds normal around that giant lump that seems to have taken up permanent residence in my throat. "Don't you get that? You've never been alone."

"I'm always alone, Scotty," she retorts. "My dad…my mom…Chris…Patrick…Joseph…name someone, and they've left me. I'm always alone. I'm that damn lone wolf cop you talked about in Nashville. It's just the way it is, and I think the shooting finally got me to realize it."

If my heart was startin' to break before, it's totally shattered now. How the hell can she not see what's right in front of her face?

I love you. The words are on the tip of my tongue…just waitin' for my brain to give me the go-ahead, but it never comes. No point in tellin' her now. Won't make a damn bit of difference.

"You ain't alone, Lil," I say again, softly. I sit down on the couch next to her, and I wanna just wrap her in my arms and press kisses into her hair and whisper, over and over again, that she ain't alone, that I'll always be there for her, but I can't. Not without endin' my life as I know it. So I settle for puttin' my hand on her shoulder, like I did the day her mom died…before everything went all to hell 'cause of my screw-up. She seemed okay with it then, and she's kinda okay with it now. She doesn't flinch, I notice, she doesn't move my hand…I can almost feel her relaxin' a little bit. Her skin is so soft…so warm…

Focus, Valens.

"I'm here for you," I say. "I always have been."

I see tears well up in her eyes then, too, and I just look at her. I can't let her see how I'm feelin', and I'm hopin' it ain't showin' in my eyes. I ain't sure, though.

"Where were you when I got shot?" I ask him softly, and he flinches. Those tears he managed to retract come back with a vengeance, and I see that muscle in his cheek start to twitch. I know he's close to the edge, and it's damn hard to watch. My heart is breaking for him. I know how much he doesn't want to talk about this…but we need to talk about it…if we have any hope of getting past it.

"Where was I?" he repeats bitterly. "What the hell kinda stupid question is that?" He takes his hand off my shoulder suddenly, like it's burning him, and I can't help but feel cold where his hand was. So cold…so alone…just like I felt in that damn hospital.

Scotty gets up again, starts pacing, and I wish to God he'd just sit back down. He's making me even more antsy than I already am. His breath is coming in short little pants, and his jaw is clenched, like he's still trying to fight the tears.

"I need to know what happened, Scotty," I say. I'm not giving in. Not on this.

He glares at me, and I can see the sparkle of tears mingling with the hot fire of his anger. "Read the damn report," he flings at me, his tone low and full of warning. Don't go there, it says. I ignore it. I have to.

"I'm not interested in IAD's version," I tell him. "It won't tell me what I need to know."

Anger wins the battle with tears, at least momentarily, and he lashes out. "What the hell do you think you need to know that ain't in the report? And what the hell do you wanna talk about this for, anyway? It's over. It's done. You got shot. You got a scar on your shoulder for the resta your life, you got nightmares, you got panic attacks, you're never gonna be the same again. Why you wanna revisit that all of a sudden? Why can't we just leave it alone?" he demands. I can see the terror and pain in his eyes.

"Because that's not what we do, Scotty," I retort. "We don't leave the past alone. We work cold cases, for God's sake."

The irony gets him, and he chuckles in spite of himself. "It's different when it's your own past," he says softly.

"It is," I agree.

"So why you gotta know?" he asks me again. "What's so damn important about relivin' that nightmare?"

"Because maybe if I relive that nightmare…then maybe I won't have to live the one that visits me every night when I'm trying to sleep," I fling back, and at that, I know I've won. He'll tell me what I need to know now, even if it's for no other reason than to give him a sense of rescuing me, of being the hero, of being the guy to save me from my bad dreams and panic attacks.

He sighs, sits down, and leans his elbows on his knees. "I was outside," he starts. "I was outside, and Vera set Kat a text message sayin' Ed took the office hostage. And those idiot sharpshooters…they missed."

"I know," I say softly. "And Ed shot Boss."

"And….I dunno what happened after that," Scotty replies, his voice trailing off as he looks away.

"Yes, you do, Scotty," I press, leaning closer to him. "You know exactly what happened, and so do I. I just wanna know why."

"'Cause…I couldn't just stand there and watch Ed shoot up the office…shoot you. I had to do somethin'," he answers, his eyes dark and faraway, filled with pain. He's got this tortured expression on his face that I would give anything, anything to make go away, but I can't. Not yet.

"So you came inside," I prod.

"I came inside, ran up the stairs, saw that Boss was okay, and then…" his voice falters. He stops for a minute, swallows hard, and angrily brushes away a tear that's managed to escape.

"And then…" I say softly.

"Then…you called." He pauses to take a shaky breath. "And you said 'hey.' And…"

"Keep going, Scotty," I tell him. "What happened after I said 'hey?'"

He looks up at me, and for a second, I think he's gonna bolt. He sure looks like he's getting ready to. He looks like he's fighting with something, wrestling with something…

"I shot into that room, okay?" he says angrily. "I shot Ed, but it wasn't soon enough; it wasn't quick enough. I--" His voice breaks, and the anger gives way to pain. "I couldn't save you, Lil," he finishes in a whisper, and then…he just buries his face in his hands. I can see his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "That what you wanted to hear?" he demands through his tears.

No, not really. I've got no idea what to do. None whatsoever. I was planning on glossing over this part, the actual shooting part, and get to the after part. I wasn't expecting us to get mired down in Scotty's morass of self-loathing. Now that we're here, I'm not surprised, but that doesn't stop me from not having a clue how to help him.

I'm aching to just pull him into my arms and whisper into his ear that it's okay, that it isn't his fault, but I know that he won't hear me. Hell, I'm not even sure he'll let me touch him. I know that his self-blame, not just for me, but for Elisa, and Ana, and his brother, has taken root so far deep in his soul that I'm not sure it'll ever come out. And I hate to leave it in there, but...we've got enough to deal with today.

I settle for rubbing circles on his back, tentatively at first, but he seems okay with it, so I scoot closer to him on the couch, put my right arm around him, and just lay my head down on his shoulder as I softly run my other hand up and down his arm.

He doesn't cry long, less than a minute, and then he looks up at me, grinning almost sheepishly. "Sorry," he says softly, with a little sniffle as he scrubs the tears from his cheeks. Frankly, I'm a little relieved to see the old sparkle back in his eyes, red-rimmed though they are. The old Scotty. The one that's all cockiness and bravado.

I smile at him tenderly and release him. "Now, I wanna hear…how you did save me."

Goddammit, I cannot believe this woman. For a second, I feel kinda sorry for all those suspects we've interviewed over the years, especially the ones who were innocent, but got put through the wringer anyway. No wonder we get away with never havin' much evidence. Lil's just so damn good we don't need it. I can't believe she just got me to crack like that. I just confessed to the worst crime I ever committed, and I'm amazed that she ain't slappin' the cuffs on me. I know I would, if I were interrogatin' me.

Instead, she's just smilin' at me, wantin' to know how I did save her. I know she ain't thinkin' straight.

"I didn't do a damn thing to save you," I say bitterly, wipin' away the last traces of my tears, hopin' they don't decide to come back for an encore.

"You did, Scotty," she insists. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Yes, she is. She's here, and she's...here. In my apartment. Why the hell is she here, anyway?

"That ain't got nothin' to do with me," I retort. I'm goin' down into that place, that dark place deep in my soul that causes me to lose all hope and do dumb shit…shit like drinkin' on the job or screwin' Alex Thomas. That place where I can't see anything but how much I screwed up, and I hate that Lil's seein' me like this. This is why I didn't turn to her after Elisa…I didn't want her, of all people, to see me in this dark pit of despair. I try to fight the downward spiral, but it probably ain't gonna do any good.

I'm so deep in my own mess that I forget Lil's even there for a second, so her voice startles me.

"Scotty," she says sharply, like she's seein' my descent into the abyss and tryin' to catch me before I fall.

I turn and look at her, and…y'know, I think it mighta worked.

"What did you do after I got shot?" she asks, her voice soft, but intense. I know that voice. It's that voice she uses in the interview room, that voice that doers are powerless to resist. Her blue eyes are just blazin' at me, with what looks like urgency, a little fear, and somethin' else…somethin' I can't quite identify, but I know I ain't never seen it before.

"Whaddaya mean, after you got shot? None of that matters," I tell her angrily. "It was already done. I already screwed up. Why you gotta know all that? Ain't talkin' about this hard for you at all?" I demand.

And suddenly, I've got the upper hand. Tears are fillin' her eyes, and I should feel bad about it, but for some strange reason, I don't. Turnabout's fair play. Maybe she can cry all over me for a change.

"Of course it is," she admits softly. "I don't want to relive this any more than you do."

"Then…what the hell are we doin' this for, Lil?" I ask her, tryin' to read her expression.

She reaches over and takes my hand then, and I'm so shocked that I can't say anything else. I shoulda had some more questions, shoulda pressed the issue, shoulda gone all bad-cop on her like I do with suspects, but she's rendered me utterly speechless. All I can think about is that Lil's holdin' my hand. She's actually holdin' my hand.

Don't mean squat, Valens, my brain tells me. She just feels sorry for you 'cause you're blubberin' like a damn baby.

"I don't remember…" she says softly.

"Good," I say with finality. "Then let's do somethin' else. You wanna watch a movie or somethin'?" I ask, hopin' maybe that means I can quit havin' confession and maybe see if she'll just stay and let me get my thoughts together enough to press her about why she's here, 'cause I still ain't gotten her to answer that question. Goddammit.

"No, Scotty," she says with a slight smile. "That's not what I meant."

I sigh in defeat. "Worth a shot, right?" I ask with a grin, and then wince as I catch the unintentional pun. "Sorry," I say.

She giggles a little, in spite of herself, but then gets that damn interrogator look in her eyes again, and I know the game's up. We're goin' through with this after all.

"I don't remember," she says again, "what happened after I got shot. But…last night…I thought I started to…remember things." She looks at me, givin' me one of them meaningful looks she gives me when we're gettin' somethin' out of a suspect, one of those looks where have an entire conversation with just one glance, except this time, there ain't no conversation, 'cause I don't got a clue what she's tryin' to say.

"What'd you remember?" I ask softly, noticin' she's still got hold of my hand. I ain't lettin' go. I cover her hand with my other one, and she flinches a little, but doesn't pull away. I rub circles on the back of it with my thumb, almost knocked over by just how soft and delicate it is. I love her hand.

She looks at me again, and there's that little flicker of somethin' in her eyes, and damned if I know what it is. I'm gettin' annoyed, 'cause it seems like she just wants me to…I dunno…get somethin', but I ain't got the foggiest idea what that is. You may be a detective, Valens, but you're still a guy, and therefore biologically incapable of understandin' women, my brain reminds me. It's a conspiracy of nature. Ain't nothin' you can do about it.

"I'm pretty sure I'm makin' it all up," she says, with a slight, self-deprecatin' laugh.

"Makin' what up, Lil?" I press. I sense I might be gettin' close to gettin' some answers.

Guess again, Valens. She ain't talkin'.

"Just tell me what happened, Scotty," she insists. "I gotta know I'm not nuts."

"You ain't nuts, Lil," I say intensely, hopin' she gets that at least. "You're just…goin' through a rough time."

"Dammit, Scotty," she snaps. "Just tell me what the hell happened after I got shot."

Yes, ma'am. Dammit.

"I didn't even see you at first," I say slowly, tryin' to ignore the pain that's wellin' up in my heart. "I was just makin' sure Ed was down." I take a deep breath, steelin' myself for what's to come. I hate rememberin' how she looked, all pale and helpless, bleedin' out on the floor…

"Look at me, Scotty," she orders softly, like she knows that's exactly what I need to do. I gotta look at how she is now, not how she was then. I look up at her and keep goin'. I gotta do this, if this is what she needs from me. If this is why she came, and I'm kinda startin' to think that, for whatever reason, it is.

"And then…you said, 'he got me…' and I looked up and saw you…" Dammit. Those tears are wellin' up in my eyes again. Holy shit, this is painful.

"And then what?" she asks me, almost nervously.

"Then…I caught you, and I tried to stop the bleedin'…told Will to get the paramedics…"

We're treadin' in dangerous territory now, 'cause if I keep goin', she's gonna see the truth in my eyes, and the world as I know it's gonna end before I even figure out what the hell I wanna do about what I just realized when I got home from West Virginia.

"What else?" she asks, and now I'm all confused, 'cause she looks almost happy, like this is exactly what she wants to hear. Why the hell is she wantin' to hear this part? This was just me tryin' to clean up the mess I made.

"I…kinda held you for a while," I say slowly, fightin' the tears. I think it's gonna be a losin' battle. Just like it was back then. "And…all I remember was just prayin' to God not to take you away from me, too." I look at her, and I can't help the tear that sneaks outta my eye.

"Dammit, Lil," I say softly. "You scared the hell outta me. If I'da lost you…" I trail off. I can't talk anymore. I'm done. I just hope she figures that out.

I think she has, 'cause she's lookin' at me all…is that tenderness I see? Lil can do tender? Who knew? And her eyes are shinin' with somethin'…somethin' I ain't never seen in 'em before, and I can't even begin to figure out what it is, 'cause my own eyes are pretty blurry at the moment, and my brain's totally shot. After the night and the day I had…

And suddenly, she's just whisperin', "Oh, Scotty," and she's pullin' me into her arms. I can't even breathe. I don't know what the hell's goin' on, but I ain't gonna complain.

It's only the second time I've hugged him, but the first one hardly counts. It was just a friendly, "glad you're back at work and not dead" hug, and he barely even squeezed me. I'd just gotten my stitches out, and I think he was afraid of hurting me. But this one…this one's tight, and fierce, like he never, ever wants to let me go. That's completely fine with me.

He buries his face in my shoulder, and I feel his breath hitch a little, but he doesn't break down. Not this time. I think he's shell-shocked. I am, too.

Because it's real. What I remembered last night…him catching me, him being there for me…it was real. I wasn't dreaming it up. He was there. I wasn't alone…but more than that…much, much more than that…I was with him. With Scotty.

Where I was always meant to be.

My heart is flooding with so many emotions, I can't even sort them all out. But the prevailing one is pure, earth-shattering love. I've never loved anyone like this before. It brings tears to my eyes, and I just hold onto him for dear life.

Finally, he pulls away, his hands still on my shoulders, and looks into my eyes. "Lil?" he asks, confusion creasing his brow.

I smile at him, and he probably thinks I've gone off the deep end. He isn't the only one. You have to have gone off the deep end at least a little bit to fall in love with your partner.

"Now…I can tell you why I came over here last night," I say. I can't stop smiling. He's still just looking at me, all mystified.

"Why's that?" he asks lightly, like he's afraid to shatter the moment.

I take a deep breath. Here goes. I've never been more excited, or more scared, about anything in my life.

"I came to tell you…" I start, but I can't finish.

I try again. "I…needed to tell you…that…" I trail off, just shaking my head with a timid smile. Now that the moment of truth is here, I just can't go through with it.

"Tell me what, Lil?" he asks me, and I meet his eyes. They're so warm, and soft, and they're looking at me like they can see my soul. And there's something else there, too…something else I thought for sure I was dreaming up in my semi-delirious state last night, but…no, I wasn't. That's real, too. What I see in his eyes is as real as the sofa we're sitting on.

He loves me.

And that gives me the last ounce of courage I need.

"I…I love you, Scotty."

Time just stops. Completely frozen. I can't move, can't breathe, can't blink…can't do anything except just stare at her, thinkin' there's no possible way she just said that, no possible way I heard her right. But as I'm starin', I'm lookin' into her eyes, and I see the truth shinin' there, plain as day. She loves me all right. Lilly Rush…loves me.

"You came all the way here to tell me that?" I ask, kickin' myself for soundin' so stupid.

"Yeah," she says, and I get a hint of the fear in her voice. Then, I realize, stupid idiot that I am, I haven't said anything back.

I look at her…takin' in her blonde hair, her sparklin' blue eyes, that smile that melts my heart…and I know she can see the truth in my eyes without me even havin' to say anything. But, just in case…

"Oh, Lil," I say softly. "I love you, too. You got no idea how much." Hell, eight hours ago, I had no idea how much.

My heart's soarin' as she makes this cute little sound, kinda like a half-laugh and a half-sob. She's got tears spillin' out of her eyes now, but her smile's as bright as the sun, so it's kinda like when it's rainin', but the sun's shinin' at the same time, or somethin' like that, hell, I dunno, 'cause suddenly it occurs to me that I don't wanna sit here thinkin' up weather analogies, I just wanna kiss the woman.

So I do.

Her lips…oh, God, her lips feel so good. They're so soft. Firm, though. She ain't gonna just let me do all the kissin'…she's gonna wanna get her part in, too. That's okay with me. Nothin's ever been more okay with me in my life.

I should be a gentleman, make our first kiss short, but I don't think I could tear my lips away from hers if my life depended on it. She's feelin' the same way, it seems, 'cause she scoots herself closer to me on the couch, wraps one hand around the back of my neck, and the other's just restin' on my chest, and then all of a sudden, I'm leanin' back, and she's on top of me. I got one arm wrapped around her real tight, and the other hand's tanglin' in her hair…it's like silk, it's so soft. Damn, this woman's amazin'. I gently push on her lips with my tongue, and she welcomes me in, and holy mother of God...I'm practically in orbit.

She pulls away for a second, searches my eyes, looks like she's about to say somethin' else, but I don't give her a chance. I gotta kiss her again.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I never knew a kiss could be like this. Kissing Scotty…oh, kissing Scotty is just heaven. I never want it to end. His lips are so warm…firm and insistent…passionate, but not crushing. My senses are just overwhelmed by how wonderful this feels, by the way he's letting out these soft little moans of pleasure, by the fresh, clean scent of his skin and that delicious spicy aftershave. My heart's beating wildly as he wraps his arms around me, and somehow we topple over, and I'm on top of him, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's running his fingers through my hair, fumbling with the clip and flinging it to the floor. I don't hear it land, and I don't care. I can't care. I'm so caught up in this kiss…it's consuming me from head to toe, shooting fire throughout my whole body. He's pushing my lips open with his tongue now, and oh…God…that feels even better. It's like our bodies have just now figured out what our souls knew all along.

It feels like I'm home. Like I've been wandering around, lost, for my whole life, looking for something…and now…now I've found it. I'm finally back where I came from. Back where I'm meant to be. I'm home.

I pull away to catch my breath, and I want to say something, I've got no idea what, but he kisses me again before I can think of it. I don't think it's sunk in yet. I don't think he thinks this is real.

I'm not sure I think it's real, either, but I'll take it. I'll definitely take it.

I pull away once more, smile shyly, and just lay my head down on his chest, trying to catch my breath and stop the room from spinning. I can feel his heartbeat through his T-shirt; it's as frantic as mine is. He's breathing hard, too, and we just lay there like that for the longest time, neither one of us saying anything else.

Everything's already been said.

I got no idea how long we've been layin' here. She's just got her head pillowed on my chest, and I'm holdin' her tight, still half afraid that if I let her go, she'll freak out and bolt. But she doesn't seem to wanna do that. She's got her arms around me, too. In fact, I think she's asleep. She's either completely asleep or damn close. But I ain't disturbin' her. Not in a million years.

I press kisses against her hair occasionally, and whisper to her that I love her, but she doesn't move a muscle. That's okay by me. I've got an angel in my arms, and I wanna stay here forever.

I'm thinkin' we oughta take this slow. Oh, my body doesn't like that answer, not at all, but…we gotta do this right. 'Cause this is the real thing for me, and I know it's gotta be the real thing with her, too. No way does Lilly Rush say "I love you" unless she means it. She's given me the most precious gift she ever could: her heart. That heart of hers, so wounded and battle-scarred, now rests in my hands…shyly…tentatively…like a flower or somethin'…and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let my hormones crap all over it. No, no messin' around with this. We're gonna take this slow. Do it right.

We both got issues, I know that. She's scared of love, and I'd be lyin' if I said I ain't a little bit, too. My history with love…well, it ain't the greatest, and if I'm bein' honest with myself, I'm terrified that I'll do somethin' to screw this up. So I'm gonna take it slow.

What I'm thinkin' about now, though, is how…right this feels. There's absolutely nothin' awkward about it at all. The more I think about it, the more I realize we've always sorta just been together, even when we were datin' other people…like our hearts were just kinda waitin' for our damn stupid brains to figure it out.

I'm also thinkin' that even though we both got a boatload of issues, that we're gonna take the time to work through 'em, together. Kinda like we did today. I'm proud of us; we talked about some real tough shit, stuff we've probably needed to talk about for months, and neither one of us cut and run, although I know we both wanted to. That's a good sign, I think. 'Cause I know relationships well enough to know that you don't make 'em work by runnin' at the first sign of trouble. We've at least got that goin' for us; we've both been engaged before, so, theoretically anyway, we've got at least the basic skills for makin' a relationship last longer than just a few months.

'Cause I know just a few months ain't gonna be enough for me, and I know it ain't gonna be enough for Lil, either. She's so used to people leavin' her, and as I'm lyin' there, thinkin' about this, I whisper a promise into her hair. "I ain't gonna leave you, Lil. Never. I'm in this…'cause I can't imagine my life without you. I look into the future, and all I see is you."

And now, my eyes are fallin' closed, and I'm thinkin' I might join Lil in dreamland. One thought I have before I drift off kinda makes me laugh a little bit, 'cause I'm thinkin' how this day started, with me all pissed off at John Smith, and now…now the darkness of the night has given way to bright sunshine. I've got Lil asleep in my arms, I know what it's like to kiss her, and our partnership has blossomed into more than that…and now I'm thinkin' I maybe oughta write that bastard a thank-you note. Dear John, I'll say. Thanks for makin' me realize what a damn fool I've been. Thanks for makin' me realize how truly and completely I love Lilly Rush. Thanks for doin' or sayin' whatever it is you did to make her tell me she loves me. But if I ever see you again…I'm still kickin' the shit outta you.

I'm also thinkin' that maybe I oughta call Boss at some point and see about maybe gettin' us another couple days off. I think we've earned 'em.

And I'm thinkin', as I fall asleep, that maybe convincin' Lil to sleep next to me from now on won't be as hard as I thought it was gonna be. And that's the sweetest thought of all.