Setting: 1x1

Warnings: None

Point Of View: Third (Al)

Disclaimer: I do not own the plot of Unforgettable or the characters.

Long time no see, nerdlets. So I know it's been awhile since I've posted but school's been crazy and I've been working on a multi-chaptered Vampire Academy fic. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this, please review and tell me what you think.

C. Wells

Al Burns stomach managed to twist painfully at the name and jump for joy all at the same time.

"What's her name."

Coincidence, he thought to himself decisively. Nine years after she left and out of the blue I see her again? Coincidence. However, he needed to know for sure, before he decided to do anything stupid. Roe glanced down at his notebook to make sure before answering.

"Carrie Wells."

Ok a little more suspicious, but still the name is pretty popular, Al decided. Maybe.

"What she look like?"

Roe glanced between Nina and Mike before shrugging. "Mid-30's, red hair, pretty."

Nina snorted at the description but didn't comment. Al, on the other hand was more concerned with the lack of details.

"That's all you got?"

Roe shrugged again and gave a short half laugh. "She looked like a witness, Al."

"I think I'll go talk to her," Al decided. If it was her, he had to know for sure.

"Alright. I'm with you, boss." Roe moved to follow him, only to be stopped short.

"I'm okay."

Roe stared at him for a moment before stuttering out a response. "Oh, I, uh, thought 'cause I did the initial-"

"I'm okay," Al said firmly and headed out the door without waiting for a reply.

He walked down the two flights of stairs, taking his time. He checked the door number at least three times before finally stepping up to knock. He knew he was acting like a coward, but there was something about seeing Carrie, the one person who knew him best that shocked him to his core. After a deep breath, he lifted his fist, his knocks echoing loudly around the stairwell and the apartment to which the door belonged.

There was a long minute of silence, not even footsteps audible and just as Al was deciding whether to knock again or just leave, the door was yanked open, revealing the redheaded beauty within. And beautiful she was. Despite the late hour her red curls sat perfectly on her shoulders. Her eyes skittered around as they always had, taking in his form first followed by the uniformed police hanging around, before finally glancing around at the rest of the stairwell. Finally her eyes rested back on him. Her full lips were pursed with an unidentifiable emotion and he hated how his eyes were immediately drawn to them. Her tank top exposed her shoulders and arms, still taut with muscle despite her years off the force and accentuated the curve of her breasts and hips, something that he had always been attracted to.

Finally those ruby lips parted and spoke, in a voice he had convinced himself a long time ago that he would never hear again. "You don't have to break it down. I heard you." She indicated the door with a slight head jerk, amusement colouring her tone.

"Nice to see you too." He couldn't help the snark in his comment, coming from seeing her again after all this time. "May I enter?" he added uncertainly, really hoping to take this conversation away from any prying ears.

"Well that depends. You have probably cause?" He should have known. Even when they were together Carrie had never liked to make things easy for him. It was expecting too much for her to do him a favour, especially considering how they parted.

He decided he might as well drop all the bullshit and just get on with what he really needed to talk to her about. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Uh, I live here," Carrie answered promptly. "What are you doing here?"

"Investigating a murder." Al couldn't help but continue, "we look around, ask questions, you remember how that works."

But much to Al's surprise, Carrie didn't rise to the bait and clarified what she meant. "I mean, what are you doing in New York?"

"Trying to move up in the world." That was an answer that was at least partly true and enough that Carrie would believe. Even before she had left Al had felt trapped by the Syracuse PD. But after she left, it had become downright claustrophobic. Without her there, it had become impossible to manage and since he had no reason to stay, he had shot out of there the second he got the chance.

"You always were driven, Al."

"Look who's talking." Again, he couldn't help but fall into the easy banter. She had always driven him nuts, to the point where his usually guarded answers came thick and fast when they were conversing.

"Oh no, I gave all that up."

He glanced around the grungy stairwell, with its marked walls, creaky stairs and all together low class atmosphere. "Yeah, I can tell."

Carrie chose not to comment. "So, married?" she asked instead. "Children."

Al tried not to ponder the reasons why she would want to know, before deciding he didn't want to know. Concluding that honesty would be the best way to go, he answered her question truthfully.

"Girlfriend."

Carrie hummed in response, not giving away a glimpse of her true feelings. Her eyes suddenly snapped back to his, the glint in them warning him that she was having dangerous thoughts. "Not Linda Perini?"

Al drew a blank. "Who's Linda Perini?"

Carrie began to rattle of information, like she always did, "EMT, five-six annoying lisp, that girl you always said you were going to leave me for."

With each detail, an image began to take shape in Al's mind, of the EMT who had used to hang around the precinct whenever she could. Al had never actually been attracted to the woman but any mention of her had always inflicted such an intense jealousy in Carrie which had always lead to the hottest love making, so it had always been worth it.

"You left me, by the way, and that wasn't the reason," Al reminded her gently, trying not to betray the deep-seated hurt that he still harbored.

Carrie apparently didn't notice the gentle tone or otherwise still managed to get annoyed by it because her retort was biting and cynical. "That's right, it's because I'm an obsessive cataloger of people's faults who stores slights and injuries like some kind of freak bulldog who will never let go unless you forcibly break her grip." By the time she was halfway through her monologue Al was already shaking his head. Carrie's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't look at me like that. You said it."

"I never said that." Those were dangerous words to say to Carrie, and although her speech had sounded vaguely familiar he couldn't help himself.

"August 14, 2002, 2:36 a.m, hot night, no rain, there were crickets." The words were tossed smugly back at him and Al hung his head briefly in shame. He could remember the night hazily now, it had been the night of one of their worst fights, ending as it usually had with Carrie storming out of his apartment in the middle of the night and both skulking back to each other the next day with their tails between their legs. That night had been the beginning of the end, for the two of them.

"Ok, alright," he conceded. "I was angry, I was frustrated, I was-"

"Insensitive," she said cutting him off. "And I'm too sensitive," she laughed sardonically.

"The investigation was over, Carrie. It was over. There were no leads, no hope, and it was destroying you." His voice took on a slightly pleading tone that he normally would have died before letting anyone else hear. But he needed more than anything else to explain himself to her after all these years.

"You gave up." He voice was almost a yell and she turned away abruptly, hiding her face from view. He could tell that she was still hurt over that. After everyone else had given up the case, he had continued to work on it, standing by her when no one else did and for him to give up, he knew hurt her more than she would ever let on. But he'd been forced to watch her sink lower and lower into that pit of despair for close to a year and for him giving up the case had been more important, if it meant he got his Carrie back.

"I did what I thought was right for us," he murmured quietly, aware of the other police officers still milling around the staircase.

She laughed again. "Well, we all know how that turned out. For us."

"Great."

"Great," she repeated.

"Now that we got that out of the way…"

"Yep."

"Can you help me here? Catherine Grant, 316." With great difficulty, Al left the past and tried to remember the poor woman who had been stabbed to death.

"I was sleeping, I heard a fight. He must've chased her down the stairs. I went outside, checked her vitals, made sure someone called it in. That's all I got."

Al doubted it. Carrie always needed a few a days to mull things over before she could fully determine what she had seen. But he didn't press the issue and latched onto another piece of information she had offered up, hoping for an idea of the perp. "You heard the fight?"

Carrie's sigh was sombre. "Yeah. But I just heard stuff being knocked around. Nothing specific. I'm sorry, wish I had more."

"Ok. Well, thanks for your help. Call if you think of anything," he said producing a business card and pressing it into her hand.

"Why else would I call?"

Al chose to ignore her snark and took a few steps back. "Like I said, nice to see you."

He'd already turned away and began walking back up the stairs when he heard Carrie call him back. "I um, I hope you get your guy."