Unfinished Business    part 2 a

Livvy

*~*~*~*

FRIDAY

"Lindsay, in my office, now!" Bobby orders.

Full of righteous indignation, Lindsay spins around intending to tell Bobby exactly what he can do with his tone. Spying a smiling, jeans-clad, Bobby, Lindsay's ire, along with her heart, drops rapidly south in a rush of warmth that threatens to seep from her body as she turns into liquid oblivion. Looking up at the clock, her smile rises as she begins to walk from the library to Bobby's office. 'Left, right, left, right,' she reminds her shaky legs, 'you can do this. It isn't that far.'

Bobby follows her into the office, saying, "Cab's coming in fifteen, I'll get Jimmy to give me a hand with these and meet you downstairs."

Smiling, Lindsay says, "Okay." She's proud of herself for managing that much coherency considering the excitement rushing through her. She stands there staring at Bobby, taking in the delightful image of his already relaxed features and the lust-inspiring way he fills out denim. God, he looks good in jeans, actually, he looks good out of jeans too... and naked in her arms, oooh, that would be nice, soon, oh baby, they're going on vacation, just them, 24/7, oh baby!

"Hurry," Bobby reminds her.

Lindsay grins as she picks up the bag containing her change of clothes and enters his bathroom. She momentarily rests her forehead against the cool tiles, urging herself to get a grip until that suggestion produces the type of thoughts that she's trying to quash. Pulling away, Lindsay nods her head in determination, then rips her clothing off, not allowing the thought of what she'd do if Bobby were in the room right now to slow her down in her endeavor to get dressed.

Having grabbed their cases, Bobby walks out into the outer office. His progress to the front door is blocked as he's beset by colleagues making the most of their last chance to harass him for details. He smiles at their excitement... to be honest, he'd smile if they stood there bawling too; he's just so happy that he can't possibly contain it. When Ellenor starts ribbing him about his effervescent grin, he pushes through the throng, saying, "Isn't it enough that you're getting rid of us for a week? Do you really need to know where we are going too?"

They all have to grudgingly agree that he has a point, but, a moment of reflective silence is all it takes before the questions start up again.

"Enough!" Bobby shouts, "I'm not telling you, so, enough!"

Dejected, they begin to trudge back to their desks, "Have a great time," Bec says and the others follow suit, with covetous well wishes.

Their wistful faces have no effect on Bobby; he loves them, he really does, but on this vacation he does ~not~ want to see or hear from them.

Lindsay completes the fastest change of clothing in the history of womankind and enters the outer office before Bobby has even left it. As she rounds the corner, her fingers are still buttoning her shirt and she almost gives Jimmy enough of a view to fuel his dreams for years. It's lucky his assistance carrying the cases is no longer necessary as he's unsure his heart could handle the exercise after that little jolt to his system.

Bobby and Lindsay hoist their bags and walk towards the door. Lindsay pauses before opening it, turns to say good-bye but, instead, the imp in her appears, causing her to say, "Don't have any wild parties while we are gone."

"Don't go breaking any furniture," Bobby adds.

"No boys sleeping over," Lindsay directs at Lucy with a wink.

"And under no circumstances are you allowed to use the car," Bobby states firmly.

Ignoring the cries of, "Just go!" they continue their spiel.

"Remember to water the plants."

"And feed the dog."

Their instructions continue as they, and their luggage, are bustled out into the hallway and the door is firmly closed in their faces. Bobby grins and in a loud voice asks, "So, do you think they'll miss us?"

A chorus of, 'No!' is heard from behind the closed door.

Laughing, Bobby and Lindsay make their way to the elevator. Bobby pauses as the door opens, looking back towards the office in indecision.

"What?" Lindsay asks, leaning against the door to hold it open.

"Maybe... I... uh..." he shakes his head, "No, it can wait."

"Are you sure?" Lindsay asks, stepping inside so he can enter.

"Positive," Bobby replies pressing the down button. "Hey, Linds," he says turning to face her.

She looks up from checking on the bags and raises an eyebrow in question.

"Our vacation officially started..." he looks down checking his watch, "two minutes ago."

"Woohooo!" she loudly cheers.

Bobby responds in kind, shouting, "Yeah!"

After their impromptu release of pent up excitement, they laugh, looking a little embarrassed, both hoping that no one heard their uncharacteristic shouts. They travel the remainder of the way down in silence, the lumps in their throats not leaving until the doors open on an empty foyer. Breaths are released in relief and they again lift their bags, carrying them out to the pavement to await their cab.

Once on the street, they find that the only way to combat the biting cold is to suction their lips together as they wait for their cab. Lindsay is just about convinced that winter nights in Boston aren't that bad after all when a none-too-impressed passerby mumbles, "Get a room," as he shoves his way past them, unnecessarily bumping Lindsay's shoulder as he does.

Lindsay drops her face from Bobby's, a sheepish grin spreading over her countenance, too lulled by lust for indignation. Bobby, however, is incensed at the mistreatment of her. He is about to react when Lindsay grabs his hand, alerting him to the arrival of their cab. All thoughts of cold, frustrated, grumpy Bostonians is lost as the Pacific Ocean can almost be smelt with the next breath they take. Bobby nods to Lindsay to climb in while he begins lifting their bags. Believing that getting there sooner is more preferable to any delay, Lindsay ignores him and lifts hers as well. Many hands make light work, if only they could make planes fly faster, too, then they'd already be there, wherever 'there' is, and that naked-in-her-arms thing could finally begin to come true.

~~~~~~~~

After a long day at the office, the stress of Friday night traffic, the hustle and bustle of arriving at the airport, unloading and checking in their baggage, Lindsay feels physically and emotionally exhausted. From the way Bobby's sitting slumped in his chair, it appears he's feeling the same way. Looking at him, Lindsay smiles, then leans her head onto his shoulder. Bobby's arm raises behind her and drapes over the back of her chair; his fingers rake softly over her arm as he smiles at her.

"So, LA, huh?" she says.

Bobby puts on a shocked expression, "Can't keep anything a secret from you, can I?"

"Bobby!" she protests, "LA is big... Can I have a little more information, please?"

"Uh," he considers, before saying, "Nope."

"Is there a reason for this subterfuge or do you just like being annoying?"

"Are you insulting me or is that a convoluted way of saying you love me?"

Lindsay shakes her head at him. Bobby leans in closer, his face is expectant as he awaits her answer. "Neither," she says, "When I'm insulting you, you'll know. And... I'm not sure how I feel about you right now."

"Is that so?"

"Yup," she nods.

"So, what are the options? I can help you decide how you feel."

When Lindsay merely shakes her head, Bobby leans even closer, his lips finding themselves drawn to her skin. Whispering encouragements for her to speak, Bobby trails kisses over her forehead, down her hairline and across her jaw.

"Bobby," Lindsay sighs.

"Tell me," Bobby whispers.

She would, if she could remember what their conversation had been about. His lips brush the corner of her mouth and she turns her face so that their mouths meet. Softly their lips touch, taste and caress. Hearing the boarding announcement for their flight, Lindsay sighs, caught between disappointment that they've been interrupted and excitement that the wait is almost over. With one last lingering tender taste, they rise and walk to the gate. Lindsay looks around at the faces of the many weary people queuing for their flight, obviously, she hasn't been the only one suffering from the winter blues and desperate for a peak at the sun.

Lindsay can still feel the phantom presence of Bobby's kisses as she walks to her seat; arriving there, she's disappointed to note that they'll be sharing this flight with a passenger who is taking up more than his fair share of the seat. Oh, well, if she has to sit on Bobby's knee for the whole flight it will hardly be a hardship, at least for her. She giggles at her thoughts as she sits. Bobby looks questioningly at her as he takes his seat but she shakes her head and rolls her eyes a little to let him know that it had been nothing. She rests her head against the back of the seat, closes her eyes and wills them to already be there or, at least, to already be in the air; flying she doesn't mind but takeoffs she can do without.

Lindsay concentrates on thoughts of Bobby, ones certain to relax her, to prepare her for the dreaded moment soon to come. Bobby's kisses again come to mind and she blushes a little at the recollection of what they'd just done. Bobby isn't one for public displays of affection, for that matter, neither is she. Both prefer romance to occur when there is no need to hold anything back. Sure, they'll hold hands, lean against each other, caress and cuddle even and, maybe, maybe if the moment is really special then they'll throw caution to the wind with the exchange of super chaste kisses but that isn't what had been happening moments ago. Bobby had actually been kissing her in a crowded airport, oh, sure, no tongue made an appearance but, still, for almost seven minutes, by her later calculations, his fingers and lips had been in constant contact with her skin, the last minute of which their lips had barely parted. For Bobby, for both of them, that's uncharacteristic behavior.

Smiling, Lindsay can hear Helen laughing at her, covering her eyes, saying, 'Lindsay, how shocking!' playing up her disgust for all its worth, but it isn't that. Lindsay doesn't feel ashamed or embarrassed at all, she's merely surprised that behavior that they normally reserve for moments when they are alone had felt so natural tonight. What is even more surprising is that Bobby had initiated the contact. Bobby, the man who hates the thought of being watched by anyone, for some unknown reason, tonight, didn't seem to mind at all. Of course, now, Lindsay can't help wondering why. Always the lawyer, she questions his motives, needing to get to the truth hidden in this often-contradictory man. Remembering that she had been questioning him about their vacation, she begins to wonder, could that have been why? Opening her eyes, she looks askance at Bobby. Is he that desperate to keep the details of their vacation secret? The charm of the moment begins to lose some of its luster once faced with the possibility that it had been a ruse.

Bobby, sensing her eyes are now focused on him, turns to smile at her; seeing a question in her eyes, he leans closer and asks, "What?"

His amused and unconcerned grin has the words spilling out of her before she can censure them, "What happened back there, that wasn't to distract me, was it?"

Bobby shakes his head, leans against her to protect his reply from prying ears, and says, "It was because you distract me."

Lindsay smiles, believing him and relieved that it was love and not a ploy that brought them together. That his emotion is winning out over his reserve is proof to her of how excited they both are about this trip. Her hand rises, resting on his neck as his stubbled cheek brushes against her. "Love you," she whispers, and feels his lips curl in a smile before they caress her ear.

The man beside her shifts in his seat, propelling Lindsay almost into Bobby's lap. Suspecting that this is going to be a fun flight, Lindsay sighs and avoids Bobby's eyes. She knows that the exasperated look that she'd find there would have her laughing. Normally, there would be no problem with that, but, trapped in a confined space, on the verge of take off, her anxiety levels are such that what starts as a simple giggle could easily bubble into nervous hysteria. She can just imagine the terror on Bobby's face, should uncontrollable laughter take hold, no, best not to lose control before they even leave the ground, no point in scaring Bobby away now. She certainly doesn't want to start their vacation with him being arrested for trying to flee her company. Lindsay reaches out and grabs the in-flight magazine, hoping that in its mundane pages she'll find some form of distraction.

Despite her best intentions, a giggle does arise at the thought of Bobby trying to break out of the plane while she laughs hysterically in her seat. 'God, I really do need a vacation,' she thinks.

Bobby's lips return to her ear, whispering, "Ya know, if you have a good joke, you really should share it."

"Like you're one to talk, Bobby," she says, elbowing him away. She looks at him with a mock-stern glare, "I don't know how you could have the gall to lecture me on sharing."

"Gall, it's my middle name," grinning at her, he holds out his hand, "Robert G. Donnell, pleased to meet you."

Smiling, she shakes his hand, "Lindsay S. Dole, the pleasure's all mine."

"Hmm, 'S' has got to be for Sexy, right?"

"LSD? Bobby, what were they thinking?"

Bobby laughs, having heard her rant about this many times before.

"And you, you're no help."

That stops Bobby's laughter short; he's never been lumped in with the guilty before. "Me? What did I do?" he asks, almost afraid of the answer, with Lindsay it could be anything.

"Couldn't you have at least been an O'Donnell, Bobby? Couldn't you have given me a chance to escape a lifetime of LSD jokes?"

He smiles in relief to discover that he isn't really in her bad books, curious about her assertion, though, he asks, "Would you have changed names then?"

"In an instant," she sighs.

Bobby grins, loving the thought of her taking his name but not believing she would for an instant, knowing how hard she's worked to gain acknowledgment for her name and that there's no way she'd willingly start over. "You could hyphenate, then you'd be LSDD."

Lindsay screws up her face.

"What?" Bobby asks.

"Hyphenated names, they're so indecisive," she says with scorn.

Bobby looks at her in amusement.

"What?" she asks.

"You're a name snob," he says with astonishment.

"Maybe," she grins.

He shakes his head, studying her intensely as he murmurs, "Hmmm, I never knew that about you."

"Well, now you do," Lindsay says with a nod of her head, then batting her eyelids a little coyly asks, "Do you still love me?"

"I'll have to give this serious consideration," he teases.

"Maybe this can help you decide," she says and leans forward pressing a soft kiss to his mouth.

When she pulls away, they take a moment to just grin at each other, playful excitement filling the air between them. Bobby looks away in time to see that the safety lecture is over. "Damn, missed it," he says, turning back to her, "Do you think I could get her to repeat it?" His hand begins rising, Lindsay dives for it, slamming it to her body to keep it out of trouble. The look in Bobby's eye is highly amused as his fingers wriggle, tickling against her skin.

"Don't," she warns.

Listening to the engines roaring to life, Bobby turns and asks, "You got gum?"

Lindsay nods, removing a pack from her pocket, slowly unwrapping it, then placing a stick in her mouth. Bobby looks at her, his face crestfallen as she replaces the packet into her pocket. He hangs his head low and heaves a melodramatic sigh. After such a performance, Lindsay can't help but relent, reaching into her pocket she hands him a stick too, mumbling about him being a drama-queen. His fingers reach across until they find hers, joining and entangling them, he lifts her hand to his lips as the plane begins to move.

He remembers the first time he'd flown with her, when they'd traveled to Texas on a death row case. She'd been so young then and the fear was there in her eyes as the takeoff began. He'd wanted to reach out and hold her, to whisper to her that all would be fine, that he was there with her but the truth was that he wasn't, she had pushed him into the arms of another. The relationship that he'd held so dear was over, by her choice, and he'd known that his advances would not be welcomed anymore, no matter how much she longed for the security of his embrace. It has always been so important to her to appear strong, especially in the eyes of her colleagues, turning to him when their prying eyes were there had never been an option. Though she is better at hiding her fears now, she doesn't hide them as much from him and sometimes she even lets him help her; that he can make such a difference in her life, by just being there, is one of his greatest joys.

"Hey, Linds," he says and she looks his way, her back pressed hard against the seat, her hand squeezing the life out of his. He leans in close and whispers, "You and me, an ultra-cramped, possibly stinky bathroom, are you as turned on as I am?"

Lindsay laughs and keeps her eyes locked on his as the plane begins to rise. His smile, his eyes, the love and the joy shining through are enough to comfort her and another takeoff is weathered with her sanity intact. Unless you consider the desire to be reincarnated as a stick of gum a sign of impending madness, but, oh, boy, she knows what it is like in that mouth and she's mighty jealous of the attention that damn gum is getting.

No sooner are they in the air and the seat belts light is turned off then their traveling companion decides that he wants out of his seat. Bobby and Lindsay both rise to stand in the aisle, enabling him to leave. Instead of gratitude, he looks snarkily at them before walking away.

"What was that for?" Lindsay questions.

Bobby shrugs as they again take their seats and moving the armrest so that it no longer separates them, they relax against one another. "You don't suppose he has a hyphenated name, do you?" Bobby whispers, making Lindsay laugh again.

Taking the opportunity for a bit of privacy, Lindsay dispenses with her gum, then, moving even closer to Bobby, raises her mouth to his, renewing the acquaintance of their tongues, reminding herself again of why she'd been so jealous of his gum. They've parted again and are busy whispering nonsense to each other when their 'friend' returns. Once again, they rise to enable him space to move, and, again, no thanks is offered. When all are seated, Bobby takes Lindsay's hand and says, "I'm sorry."

"For?" she asks confused.

"Coach, but it was all I could get on such short notice."

"Bobby," she sighs, "It's fine, I've had worse, besides, it beats walking."

"Just barely," he groans, "But coming home it will be luxury all the way."

"Wonderful," she says, leaning her head on his shoulder, content as a kitten now that they're on their way.

The drinks cart comes around and Bobby buys them some drinks, then pulling a newspaper from his bag, settles in for a read. When their meals are served, Lindsay shows a decided lack of interest in what is offered. She eats only the fresh fruit from hers and steals the same from his. Bobby, on the other hand, not believing in letting anything go to waste finishes his meal and hers. Telling her, as he does, that she really should eat some, as it isn't too bad. Having had one awful experience with airline food, Lindsay isn't prepared to chance it again. Besides, irrationally, looking at her tray reminds her of all the meals she ate in hospital. There is something about a segmented tray that now brings a lump into her throat and dread into her stomach. No, she'd rather go without then venture down that road again.

Instead, she enjoys the meal visually, watching Bobby eat his fill, the life in his eyes as he chats away with total disregard for propriety. He's such a naughty little boy at times and she wouldn't have things any other way. As enthralling as watching Bobby eat is, she soon turns her attention elsewhere, taking his discarded newspaper, she reads through it until reaching the crossword where she huffs in indignation to see that he has started it. Reaching for her own pen, she prepares to fix the mess he has probably made of it. Whereas she likes to verify a word before committing it in ink, waiting until she can prove its letters fit with some corresponding clues, Bobby, as soon as a word comes to mind jots it down, figuring he'll fix it later if it proves incorrect. Many a wrestling match has started over the completion of a crossword puzzle, oft times the puzzle ends up torn and forgotten while they undertake more physical pursuits. Her eyes peruse her surroundings before, with an if-only sigh, she returns them to the puzzle.

Lindsay's desperately trying to conjure a word for thirty-six down when Bobby taps on her arm, offering her her headphones and asking, "Aren't you going to watch the movie?"

In truth, he hopes that she isn't because he's bored and is merely looking for an excuse to interrupt her. With the excitement he's feeling, it is hard enough staying seated, staying quiet, too, is killing him.

Lindsay looks up, sees the opening credits for Bicentennial Man and mumbles, "I live with a robotic man, I hardly need watch a movie about one."

Bobby wonders if there's a speed record for having the mood sucked out of you because, if so, he's probably just broken it. Lindsay had definitely been speaking the truth earlier, when she insults him, he knows. Not even attempting to hide his irritation, he replies, "Fine, don't watch then."

Lindsay quickly looks up at him but he studiously avoids her gaze. 'Shit!' she thinks, she hadn't meant it harshly, she'd been joking but had been so intent on the crossword that obviously the teasing quality had been missing from her tone. Testing the waters, she brushes the backs of her fingers over his cheek. When he shrugs her away, she sighs, "Bobby, I didn't mean that the way it came out..."

"I'm trying to watch this," he groans, not looking at her.

"Fine," she huffs and drops her hand from him, knowing that sometimes he just needs to be left alone to finish his sulk before he'll be prepared to listen.

Bobby knows that he has probably over reacted a little, but the robotic insinuation holds unpleasant memories for him. He knows that he isn't always open about how he feels but that doesn't mean that he has no feelings. He's been accused often enough of having no heart, having nothing inside of merit, that hearing it from Lindsay's lips opens an already painful wound. It isn't the first time either; she'd called him that exact thing many years ago during a bitter argument. They barely knew each other then; they've come so far since, that he'd thought she understood him more now, that she knew him for what he is and not what he sometimes seems. Hearing that word again makes him fear that she never will really see him, that he will always be to her what she'd perceived of him so long ago. First impressions obviously last and all the ground that he'd believed they'd covered since has actually taken them nowhere. He can't help wanting to know if that's so. Wanting to ask what she sees in him but how can he ask? And, should the truth be something that he doesn't want to hear, how can he live with that?

Lindsay's even more thankful now that she'd forgone the meal as even the two pieces of fruit feel lodged in her gut. She curses herself for not thinking before she'd spoken. No longer able to concentrate on the puzzle, she begins watching the movie, for want of something better to do. Watching this robot's plight through the world of man, his desire to have his emotions and affections recognized for what they are, to be seen as more than just his outer shell and to find someone like him, someone who understands him, who is willing to look beyond the cold outer layer to see and love the soul inside, breaks Lindsay's heart. She watches as he loses all who are dear to him and becomes more and more alone with each loss, when each hope is shattered. She watches him love, and struggle for the courage to speak of it. Watches him love a woman who fights her emotions, denies that they can be together, making him wait, despair, making him drastically change himself in the hopes of her approval, of her no longer denying them both what they desire. Watches him come to her again and again offering his heart, watches him jump through hoops for her while she stays firmly on the ground. It's a too familiar story and tears begin to fall at the thought that Bobby, too, may have ever felt that alone. She wonders how often she has turned her back on him, seeing only the protective walls he puts up and not the man aching inside, trying to reach out, needing her.

When a hand makes its way around her shoulders and a nose nuzzles against her ear, she realizes that, obviously, her sniffling was not as contained as she'd believed it to be.

"It's just a movie," Bobby says, unable to hide his amusement at her tears, his anger having had time to sizzle and burn out.

Nodding, she turns to him and tries to smile, the affection in his eyes, though, makes hers water even more. 'I'm crying for you,' Lindsay thinks but doesn't say a word, 'For the way the world treats you, the suffering you keep inside.' She's determined that she won't add to his woes, won't be another who dismisses him without taking the time to understand him. Being with a man like Bobby may require extra effort on her part but the rewards are so worthwhile. If only she can help him feel even a half of the joy that he brings to her then maybe some of that sorrow he carries with him will fade away. Maybe, then, he can be the man she knows that he is. Looking into his eyes, she whispers, "So beautiful," not about the movie as Bobby suspects but in reference to what she sees in him.

Bobby grins, looking at her as if she's the most mysterious puzzle ever made. He looks back at the screen, watches for a moment, before turning back to her, wariness beginning to creep in under the amusement as something feels like it isn't adding up. The intensity of her gaze is focused on him and not the screen, he feels as if she's looking right through him, seeing deep inside, further than even he's prepared to look. He wants to ask her why, tell her to stop, tell her to dig deeper, beg her to like what she sees but he doesn't say anything because he doesn't know that this sensation he's feeling isn't just in his head. Maybe this is all about the movie and he's just misconstruing the situation. He can't be sure because he can't read her eyes through their sheen of tears. He reaches up, reverently wiping them away, his eyes asking of her the question he can't voice.

Seeing that he is uncomfortable, Lindsay quickly stifles her tears and says, "I'm fine, really, it's just sweet."

"And?" Bobby asks; he's watched enough movies with Lindsay to know what usually makes her cry. This reaction is strange, even for her.

"And..." Lindsay wonders what she can add, not wanting to ruin the truce they seem to be working under. With Bobby, conversations can be like walking on minefields, one misstep and disaster strikes. Having resolved that she won't hurt him again, she's even more wary than usual about which route to take. Deciding that truth is her only option, she adds, "And... I love robots." She smiles, pleading with her eyes for forgiveness for her earlier transgression, promising that no slight had been intended and the pain she'd caused is deeply regretted.

Bobby nods, a smile rising as he draws her body against his. He can't seem to get enough of touching her today, in part he's sure it's nerves, the fear of the unknown, the fear of what will transpire once their destination is reached but it is also something so natural, something that transcends intent, his hands belong to her, her skin owns him and he just can't keep them apart.

They watch the remainder of the movie together, her telling him to shush every time she feels a question bubble up in him, not wanting an inquisition that would ruin the easy mood they now have. She whispers to him, holds him, cuddles in close until she feels the tension in him relax and knows that the conversation has been averted, for now.

Bobby can't help smiling that, now, it appears she's the one avoiding disclosure. If they weren't on a crowded plane, if she wasn't doing that hand thing that he loves and doesn't want her to stop, then maybe he'd push her to talk. But, for now, he's happy enough with the easy silence they have between them. He knows that discussions are soon to come; it's inevitable after what he has planned that emotions will arise, so he doesn't push her now. In truth, he's a little afraid of what this trip will bring, hopeful of its outcome but apprehensive nonetheless.

"Hey, Linds," he says and watches her smile as she turns her face to his, tilting his chin to the screen, he asks, "So, do you think we'll be like them, still doing it in our seventies."

Lindsay turns back to the screen, smiling as she says, "I plan for us to still be doing ~it~ in our nineties."

"Really?" he says with delight.

"Well," she drawls looking back at him, "By then ~it~ may be no more than a gummy smile and holding hands, but, yes, Bobby, really."

He smiles at her, no witty retorts coming to mind, happy just to allow himself to wallow in the sentiment. When the movie is ended, Bobby lays his head back and sighs, "Compared to my last time flying out here, this is bliss." Lindsay looks questioningly towards him, he turns his head to her and grins, "No Annoying Lucy asking every five minutes if we'll get to see the beach, no Ellenor barking at her to quit asking, no Jimmy pinching everyone's peanuts then claiming for the rest of the flight that he hadn't... Just you, acting bizarre, sobbing over a kid's movie, but..." His hands raise to frame her face as his eyes look deep into hers, loving all that he sees, he reverently whispers, "You."

Lindsay's eyes drop from his, the rush of color spreading over her face only makes Bobby adore her even more. He leans in, offering a tender kiss to her lips as he again whispers, "You." God, he loves her, this plan has to work. His thumbs caress her cheeks as his kisses become more emphatic. He's drawn to her completely, desperate for every touch, every taste that she'll allow him, terrified that one day it may end.

"Bobby," she sighs against his lips and he pulls away, knowing how close to the line of decency they've come.

"It wasn't a kids movie," she retorts, her voice is shaky as she tries to redirect their energies.

"Was too," he counters, nothing beats a good pointless argument for returning them to normal. He loves their playful banter sessions, lives for them, along with many other types of sessions; basically, anything that she is offering is the current desire of his heart.

"Why? Because it was about a robot?" she asks derisively.

"Among other things, and, for the record, it was an android."

"Oh, excuse me," she grins. Looking at his amused face, Lindsay figures it is about time that she again tries for information, Lindsay asks, "Where are we going, Bobby?"

Bobby laughs, hoping that his jocularity overshadows his nervousness, "LA. The rest, you'll find out when we get there."

Lindsay looks at him, her eyes begging for more, but Bobby won't relent, he can't, not yet. He has a plan, a carefully constructed plan that, only now, as it draws ever closer to fruition is starting to scare him senseless.

"I'll be as annoying as Lucy if you don't tell me," she warns.

"Nobody can be as annoying as Lucy," Bobby says, embracing their banter with fervor, this... this he can do, this is good.

"Can we go to the beach?" Lindsay says in a voice so accurately Lucy's that it scares the hell out of Bobby.

"Don't ~ever~ do that again!" he growls, making Lindsay grin with pride.

Knowing that she isn't going to get any information from him, she looks away and inadvertently starts thinking about those they've left behind. Her grin widens as she imagines Bobby on a plane with them, without the sanctuary of his office to retreat to when their antics get too much for him to handle. God, it must have been a nightmare for him. Fly on the wall, what she wouldn't give. The thought brings her to the office's busiest fly - Lucy. Poor kid. Lindsay can't help but feel sorry for her sometimes, she's so energetic, so inquisitive, but, for the most part, with nowhere to place her enthusiasm except where it is unwanted, unappreciated.

It must be tough to know that everyone finds you annoying. Really, they should be better at hiding their frustration with her but, with Lucy, it is so hard to remain composed and adult; she brings out the brat in all of them. Lindsay is amused by Lucy, she likes her, ninety-nine percent of the time, but Lucy's wry wit has a way of stinging Lindsay where it most hurts and enticing the acerbic defensive side of her nature to come to the fore. She hates that it does, that Lucy gets under her skin enough that Lindsay loses control, but Lucy, Lucy, she likes. She feels sorry for her, knows how hard it is to try and fit in when you don't really feel that you do, knows how hard it is to live with a label. If she has to hear Helen say that she is no fun one more time she'll... well, probably do nothing but suffer in silence, not wanting Helen to know that her arrow has hit its mark, and, well, it isn't like Helen will expect too much of a response, she believes Lindsay is the boring one, after all.

Unable to decide who has the worst label, Lindsay turns to Bobby and asks, "Bobby, what would you rather be called, annoying or boring?"

He looks confused by the non-sequitur question, "Is there a third option, because, so far, I'm not liking either alternative."

Lindsay shakes her head, then after a moment of silence, says, "Helen says that I'm boring."

"What! And you believe her?" Bobby asks indulgently. It always amuses him how Helen manages to torment Lindsay; she sets little time bombs and waits for them to explode. Bobby can't help wondering how long this one has been ticking for.

"No," Lindsay shakes her head, with a bemused grin, "it's just..."

"Lindsay, she says things like that to bait you, so she can talk you into doing whatever crazy venture she wants to do, she knows that it will make you want to prove her wrong and, therefore, end up doing whatever she wants."

"I guess."

Hearing her skepticism, he becomes serious and states categorically, "Lindsay, you are not boring." She looks at him, doubt still in her eyes, so he insists, "You're not!"

She nods and gives him a tiny smile, a very unconvincing performance of a woman who believes him implicitly.

"Lindsay..." he begins to say but she shakes her head.

"I'm fine," she says and turns to face forward, "planes just make me melancholy."

"They do?" Bobby asks intrigued, apart from takeoffs he'd thought she was fine with flying. He realizes, though, that this is only the fourth time that he's flown with her and their first time alone. He's always been too distracted to notice this reaction before; the first time they'd been so busy working on the case, the second everyone was depressed with their failure to have the death sentence overturned and the third time she'd slept the whole way home. This, this is interesting. He loves discovering new information about her, he wants nothing more than to know everything there is to know about who and what she is. He could never know too much.

Lindsay's silent a moment, listening to the wheels spin in Bobby's brain she realizes that she's either going to have to own up to the truth or face an inquisition. Shaking her head, she laughs, "No, but the alternative would be I'm just moody..." she looks into his eyes, saying, "I was trying to hide that from you."

"Lindsay, I wouldn't recognize you without your mood swi... Ow! What was that for?"

"Accident," Lindsay grins as Bobby rubs the thigh that has just been 'accidentally' pinched. Bobby's already used up his mood-swings-comment free-pass for this month, voicing it again warrants her inflicting pain, a task she completes with glee.

"This is the last time I take you on a vacation if you're only going to hurt me," he pouts.

"You love it when I hurt you," she counters.

Bobby opens his mouth to object but her eyes narrow as she looks at him, insisting on the truth. Dropping his eyes, he looks at his watch, then says, "We should be almost there now."

Lindsay looks at Bobby, but before she can put voice to the question, he leans in and kisses her.

'Oh, to hell with knowing details,' she thinks and returns his kiss with fervor, knowing that she'll find out where they are staying soon enough.

When they separate, they cuddle in close and sit in silence, each lost in thought about what the upcoming week will bring, or at least that's what Lindsay had assumed was occurring until the loud, irritating, obnoxious snores of their traveling companion began to be answered by sweet, soft snuffles from Bobby. Stereo snores, Lindsay groans, although one is far more pleasing than the other is. No prizes for guessing whose.

Left to her own devices, Lindsay's mind begins to wander to Bobby's carryon bag and the possible information it contains. Sure, any minute now they'll be getting a landing announcement and not too long after that they should be down and on their way, but that doesn't mean she need wait until then, right? There is no harm in her sneaking a peek now, right?

Listening carefully, she hears the proof that Bobby is still sound asleep and decides she just has to move the hand resting on her thigh and she'll be free to sneak away enough to get to his bag. Super softly, she clutches his wrist, pauses to be sure her action has gone unnoticed, then slowly begins raising his hand off of her. She has it mid air and is working it towards Bobby's thigh when his eyes open. Her mind is too intent on her body's actions to note the change in his breathing.

"What are you doing?" he asks, startling her enough that she takes a surprised gulping breath.

Lindsay turns Bobby's hand over, holding it in one hand she runs the fingers of the other across his palm. "Just... ah... reading your future," she replies.

"Liar!"

Lindsay pokes her tongue out at him, Bobby has a way of invoking immature behavior from her, and she loves that he does.

Leaning in close, he asks, "So, does it say that I'm about to get lucky, anywhere there?"

Lindsay looks closely at his palm, biting her lip in concentration, umming and ahhing, before raising a sad face to his and saying, "No, your get-lucky line seems to have disappeared completely."

"Nooooooooooooo!" Bobby mock shouts, then asks, desperately, "Is it reversible?"

"I'm not an expert but I really don't think so," she laments.

"Oh, God, no!" he cries.

He's no sooner finished saying it then the seat belts sign lights up and the flight attendants begin making their way down the aisles, ensuring everyone, and everything, is locked in tight. While the plane is descending their excitement levels are rising fast. Time seems to warp and speed up and before she knows it, they are collecting their baggage and walking out to catch a cab. Everything feels perfect, right up until the moment she hears Bobby give the address to the driver. As the words leave his mouth Lindsay's heart sinks six feet below her body as all her hopes and dreams for this vacation fade away. How could he think this would be what she wanted?

Stunned to the core, she sits motionless as she feels the heat of tears burning her eyes and a hollow empty feeling inside where love used to reside. She wants to grab her bag, run back inside and catch the first flight home. She wants nothing more than to get as far away from here as she can and as far away from Bobby as is humanly possible. Right at this moment, anywhere, anyone, anything would be better than being here with him. She can't even bear to look at him, afraid of what it is that she'd do if she did. Unfortunately, though, fate conspires against her and the cab begins moving before she's had the chance to flee and they are traveling to the last place on earth where she'd ever chose to be.

~~~~~~~


Lindsay sits in the cab, trying to force tears away, while Bobby chats happily beside her, obviously oblivious to the ramifications of his actions. Although his comment, that at least this time he hadn't had five hours of Lucy tormenting them by exalting the virtues of the beach, had met with a laugh the first time he'd said it, this time she isn't even sure that she makes it to the point of nodding. The joy that she'd felt on the plane ride out here is long gone. Disappearing the moment that she'd heard their ultimate destination. She watches the scenery go by, tries to remind herself that it's just a hotel and the important thing isn't where they are but that they're together. All the same, she can't help asking: why of all places would he choose this one? Why bring her some place that he knows is filled with painful memories? Surely, it would be as difficult for him to return there as it is for her... or, did it mean nothing to him? Does he have no regrets about what went on here? Has he not had an aching hole in his heart ever since?

Trying to sneak a look at Bobby, in the hopes of gaining some insight into his mind, Lindsay gets caught when Bobby turns to her at the same time. He smiles broadly at her as he leans over and kisses her cheek. "Almost there" he says, resting his head on her shoulder. They are quiet for a moment, then, sighing, he adds, "We should have done this a long time ago."

Trying desperately to get into the spirit of the occasion, Lindsay agrees, "Yes, yes, we should have." Her voice, even to her own ears, sounds choked but Bobby offers no reaction to the evidence of her pain and confusion.

Entwining his fingers with hers, forcing them out of the tense clutch that she's held them in since the cab journey began, he adds, "I mean, these days, how many couples are engaged to be married and have never even taken a vacation together?"

"Not many," she replies barely paying attention to the conversation. She had greedily accepted the kisses and touches he'd so readily bestowed on her all flight, but, to be honest, she's finding his suddenly intimate, tactile manner cloying now. If it wasn't for the fact that she thinks it would only make him claw at her more, she'd push him away. She holds in a sigh as she turns back to the window, reminding herself that she's on vacation with Bobby and, therefore, should be happy. This is an opportunity too good to waste and she needs to let go of her disappointment and rising anger and allow herself to enjoy it, because, God knows when they'll get another chance to do it again. Convincing herself that it is just a hotel, it isn't a big deal, she's emotional because she's tired but it will all be fine in the end, Lindsay breathes out her distress in deep calming breaths, talking herself into finding the good.

Trying to immerse herself in images of what they'll do, she finds herself laughing at the visions that pop into her head, no matter what she pictures, she can't stop seeing Bobby carrying his briefcase and wearing a suit. Bobby on vacation? He's going to go stir crazy before the first night is over. By Monday he'll be heading to the courthouse hoping to get in on the action, assuming he hasn't jumped on a plane to Boston that will get him there in time for work.

"What's so funny?" Bobby asks, nuzzling into her neck.

"You, Bobby," she sighs, falling prey to the sensation of his lips against her skin, letting herself enjoy it and hoping that he can coax her from her mood.

"Are you telling me I kiss funny?" he teases.

Breaking the contact, she turns to face him and explains, "No, you on vacation is funny. Bobby, all the years I've known you, you've hardly even taken a day off, how are you going to survive a week?" When he shrugs and smiles at her she asks, "So, how much work did you bring with you?"

Bobby sits up straight and looks at her soberly, "You think that I brought work?"

"Didn't you?" Lindsay asks surprised.

"Did you?"

Looking at him, Lindsay is sure that she sees disappointment in his eyes, dropping her gaze, she disconcertedly says, "I asked you first."

"I asked you second," he challenges, pushing against her shoulder with his, a curious, "Hmmm," filling the ensuing silence.

Feeling mortified to have been found out, Lindsay practically whispers, "I plead the fifth."

"You brought work?" Bobby says amazed.

"Didn't you?" she asks, embarrassed now. Here she'd been accusing Bobby of being unable to take a break when she is the one who brought work on their vacation. She can barely meet his eyes, the longer he looks at her in amazement, the worse she feels. What was she thinking bringing work with her? Is she that incapable of having fun?

'Nobody's less fun than Lindsay,' Helen's words taunt her again and how many times has she sat through a Lucy lecture about how she needs to spice up her life. Should she have listened to her instead of allowing her inner petulant child to cover her ears and writhe on the floor bemoaning, 'I don't wanna be a Spice Girl.' Maybe all of Helen's teasing hadn't been a joke but an attempt to get her to see what a mess she's making of things. God, she feels horrible now, here she'd been complaining about the hotel when at least he hadn't been treating it like a working holiday. Why on Earth did she bring work with her?

Turning with the intention of apologizing to Bobby, she sees a sneaky grin cross his face and realizes that he's been playing with her. "You brought some too!" she laughs, pushing him away in feigned annoyance, surprised at the momentous relief she feels knowing that at least she isn't alone in her inability to unwind.

"We're hopeless, aren't we?" Bobby says leaning back against her.

"I promise I won't touch mine if you don't touch yours," Lindsay says making Bobby laugh even harder.

Sitting up, he leers as he teases, "Promise me that I'll still get to touch yours." Lindsay gives him a playful push but he holds firm, not moving an inch, then leans in even closer as he adds, "And for the record, no objection will be made to you touching mine, none whatsoever, anytime, anywhere, just say when... or don't, surprise me, whatever..."

"I'll strangle it in a minute," she warns, finding a smile actually wanting to arise. Feeling sure, for the first time since this drive started, that all will be fine.

Bobby is about to reply when the cab stops, looking quickly out the window, he turns back with an excited smile, "We're here!" he says and hurries out of the car.

Lindsay looks at the building she'd just as happily never have seen again and tries to encourage her smile to appear. It's hard to manage though, as she's assaulted with an onslaught of painful memories. It fades quickly, never having quite reached her mouth. She doesn't have time to wallow though before Bobby's opening her door, pulling on her arm, almost jumping for joy. He leads her inside like an eager child tugging his mom through the doors of a toy store. She follows Bobby into the hotel, stands behind him as he signs the register and almost screams in horror when they're handed their key. The same room as last time? That's just perverse! Again, she has the overwhelming urge to turn and run and curses herself for letting the cab leave without her. She'd go out and stand on the curb waiting for another except for the scene that she knows would arise. Bobby following her out, her listening to him rant and scold, pulling out the big guns, 'Listen to yourself,' and 'Here we go," each time she offers a complaint. Why is it, again, that she loves him? Tonight, she is certainly starting to wonder.

Traveling up in the elevator, all Lindsay can think is that this has to be a nightmare and when she wakes, they'll be on a flight to the Bahamas, and she'll realize that she'd inadvertently eaten seafood on the flight, suffering from food poisoning she has been hallucinating ever since. This can't be happening. Not even Bobby could be so dense as to not foresee what this would do to her, to not remember there were moments when she truly hated him while they were here. Moments that, in the past month, she's has had to fight hard to overcome. How could he do this to her? How could he be so happy when he has to know that he's causing her pain? She sneaks a look at him, at least now he seems to be a little more sober, but, then again, that's probably because they aren't alone, the porter is there assisting with their luggage.

She walks towards the door with great trepidation; each step she takes returns another memory to her. It's been hard pushing these memories away since they were here last. That they'd come to a fragile understanding by the time they left here is the only reason that she has since resisted asking, 'How could you have hurt me like that?' She's repressed her hurt as best she could, tried hard to move on, to look at it as a moment of weakness and misunderstanding best left forgotten, but how can she forget, now, when everything she sees is a stark reminder of what happened? Though, in the car, she'd mostly felt intense disappointment, now it's anger that is prominent and fear as she knows that this turmoil of emotion is eventually going to explode and it won't be pretty.

Stepping into the room, she almost expects to see a bikini-clad Lucy look up from the table and offer a report on the latest proof of Dennis' guilt. Expects to feel Bobby's accusatory body tense at the news, and she'll know that he's thinking how is it that she is the only one not to see how obviously guilty he is. She expects to hear him sigh and push past her, shooting a disappointed look in her direction before returning to senior partner mood and assembling the troops for a rundown of the day's futile activities. That is how it had been every other day they were here, why should tonight be any different?

Lindsay's brought back to the present as she hears Bobby tell the porter, "I'll take it from here."

She feels his eyes on her as she walks into the room. She can hear him behind her, handing over a tip and dealing with their bags and all she can think is that she can't do this, she just can't. Needing space, she walks towards the balcony. As much as the thought of returning to the spot where he'd most hurt her is distasteful, she needs air, she needs a chance to breathe again because these walls and her disappointment are suffocating her. She hopes that Bobby can't see the letdown that she feels because, honestly, she can't deal with him right now. She doesn't want him coming anywhere near her in her present mood. As she opens the door and walks outside, she can't help directing anger at herself for feeling the way that she does.

Why does she have to find problems where there aren't any? It's just a hotel room, why has she allowed it to become more? Why is it so wrong for Bobby to have chosen somewhere they've been before? It isn't like he had much time to plan this trip. Just because she'd anticipated a cozy, romantic getaway, something far different from this place, doesn't mean that this is wrong. What she needs to remember is that she's here with Bobby, the man she adores, and they have a week of fun and relaxation ahead of them; no work, no interruptions, just them. Isn't that what is important? What she had wanted? What does it matter where they are as long as they are together? He has organized a week of delights for them, he's tried his best to do something that will make her happy and she won't let her dashed hopes and painful memories spoil that for him. She's got to believe that he meant to make her happy because the alternative... no, that's unfathomable. She knows him; her Bobby could never be that cold and uncaring. This is just a mistake, an oversight, Bobby can be insensitive at times, but he's never malicious. This is just a mistake.

Lindsay tells herself over and over again, mountains from molehills, move past this, stop being silly, start being strong, but it is all easier said than done. Looking out at the city below her and the beach in the distance, Lindsay wills the beauty to infuse her. Assures herself that they can make new memories, that being here doesn't have to remind her of a time of pain and disappointment, that it is time to stop sulking and move forward. She takes a few more deep fortifying breaths, determined not to let the pain beat her.

~~~~~~~

Bobby carries their cases into the bedroom, the thought briefly crosses his mind that maybe he shouldn't be so presumptuous as to leave his case here. From the looks of her, Lindsay may even consider the second room in their suite too close for comfort. He sits on the end of the bed, composing his thoughts, not hiding from her, no, not that at all. He has to admit that this idea had seemed so much better on Monday than it does now. He'd wanted to come here to correct his mistakes but, now, he has to wonder if returning is actually the biggest blunder he has ever made and he's made many.

He'll never forget the look on Lindsay's face after he'd told the cabbie their destination. He'd literally watched the life drain out of her. Coward that he is, he'd waited until he wasn't facing her to say it but had seen her reflection in the cab's window. From the moment that the planes wheels had touched down her smile had been so luminous and her mood... 'giddy' is the only word he can come up with. He'd played along with her bantering and teasing hoping that she wouldn't be able to see his nervousness and she hadn't. She hadn't suspected a thing at all and he realizes now how much the shock must have hurt. He'd watched the smile die from her lips and for a split second had been faced with the real possibility that she'd leave; her hand had reached for the door. He doesn't even know if she knew that she'd done it but he had seen it. That's when the basketball had become lodged in his throat, when his nervousness had become outright fear.

He'd known... well, suspected that she wouldn't be happy about his choice of accommodation but her reaction, her desolation was beyond that which he'd anticipated. He'd expected her to say something to him, to ask why and to give him a chance to promise that there was a good reason and if she'd just trust him a little longer then all would be clear. Instead, she closed in on herself, stared out the window fighting back tears and the urge to swat him away. He almost wished that she would swat him, anything would be better than shutting him out. He'd talked to her the whole way, touched her, kissed her, teased her, as much to try and comfort himself as to amuse her, because the heavy silence between them had been too much to bear. He'd needed to distract her, to coax a laugh or a smile, anything to see that she didn't hate him, to see that deep down under all the hurt she cared for him still. He'd used up almost his whole repertoire before gaining the reaction he'd sought - a smile - only to have them arrive and to see that smile fade away.

It had all seemed that much smarter on Monday. After having chosen where they would stay, he'd realized that no matter what airport they flew into they'd have, at minimum, an hour's drive to get there. After a full day at work followed by a five hour flight that prospect hadn't thrilled him so he'd decided to spend their first night in LA. His first thought on choosing a hotel had been, 'anywhere but...' until the thought had crossed his mind, where better to go to fix the problem than where it had started?

They hadn't recovered from the hostilities that had formed there. Sure, sometime between Lindsay's incredible courtroom discovery and arriving home in Boston, they'd repressed their animus, marked the incident, 'case closed, never to be spoken of again.' The only thing is, the feelings didn't go away, the hurt and anger just hung around eating at them both, affecting everything they did. Of course, neither wanted to admit that they still felt it, they were getting extremely good at acting 'fine.' He's tired of fine though, wants to move on from fine and be wonderful like they used to be. Fine is good but they can be so much better, had been so much better before they came here. To do that, they needed to talk about what had happened, what had caused the problem. For God's sake, things had to be bad if even he knows that they have issues that need to be discussed before they can be resolved. He'd never thought that the day would come when he'd say something like this but he needs closure. After all, how can he apologize for something when he's forbidden to talk about it? How can he get answers when the questions aren't allowed to be voiced?

It had all seemed so brilliant on Monday; return to the scene of the crime, so to speak, dig through the evidence and come away with a stronger knowledge and understanding of the facts, better prepared to face whatever is to be thrown at you head-on. Only their relationship isn't a case and, unlike facts on paper, Lindsay has emotions and expectations and what he has made her do is step into Hell when he'd promised her Heaven. Stupid, stupid, stupid idea.

The speech he has been preparing all week is now lodged in his throat. He'd seen the effort she'd made to talk to him as they drove here, had seen how each word almost tore at her to say it, had seen her ashen face and horrified eyes avoid him every chance that she could. He'd heard her gasp when the room number was mentioned and had watched her body almost crumple in upon itself. The woman who he traveled up in the elevator with had been only half the size of the one who'd stepped of the plane and he is the reason behind the change. He knows that she is standing out there on the balcony, knows that she is aching because of him and hates it, hates himself. That is what this trip was supposed to bring an end to, now he fears what has really ended is her ability to forgive him taking with it his chance to make things right and, subsequently, their future together. How could he have done this to them? How could he have been so foolish?

As crazy as the idea now seems it is too late to back out, he has flown her all this way, tricked her into coming here so the least he can do now is follow the plan through. As much as he wants to say, 'forget it, let's go somewhere else,' it isn't an option, they'll never recover from this step unless they complete it. Closure. They're here, this needs to be done, she needs to know why he's brought her here, they need to work through this and hiding in this room isn't achieving a thing.





Bobby stands on shaky legs and leaves the bedroom, his eyes immediately find the lone figure on the balcony, and remain locked on her with each step he takes. He sees the determined set of her shoulders and knows the internal battle she's waging, knows how hard she is fighting to maintain control. Some days, he wishes that she'd just let it go, let it all out but, by God, he needs her to reel it in today. He doesn't know if he can say what he needs to say faced with her tears, nothing silences him faster than seeing her cry and tonight... tonight, he needs to talk. He needs to make her understand that he is sorry for the mistakes he has made, that she should never doubt that she is his life, his light, his hope and he will do anything, be anyone, to keep her by his side. There is nothing that he needs more than her in his life and nothing that he won't do to ensure it is so. Mustering a confidence that he doesn't feel, Bobby takes the last few steps towards the balcony.

Lindsay hears Bobby's hesitant footsteps approach and wants to beg him not to come any closer, for his safety and hers, to stay away just a moment longer, to give her more time to compose herself but, knowing that it would be futile, she remains resolutely silent as he joins her on the balcony. His arms wrap around her from behind and she leans back against his chest, the act so natural that it happens automatically. It gives her hope, reminds her that together, they are good. Her body knows it even when her mind is unsure. Afraid of where her head had been leading her, she's determined to go with her body tonight. 'I will not ruin this,' she reminds herself, trying to eliminate all emotions but joy.

Bobby takes a moment to recover from the fact that she didn't turn him away. That she is here, in his arms, willing to give him another chance is more than he'd ever expected. He's so stunned by her action that instead of his rehearsed, apologetic, opening line, he hears himself inanely utter, "Nice view."

Lindsay hums an appreciative reply and Bobby feels her body stiffen a little. He shakes his head at himself, knowing that he needs her to know that he understands she is hurting, that he feels it to and small talk isn't going to get them there. Truth time, do or die time, "Please don't be disappointed," he whispers.

Lindsay pulls out of the embrace, angry that she's hurting him, that she's spoiling this for both of them. Turning to face him, her hand rises to rest against his cheek as she tries to assure him that she isn't disappointed, "No, no, Bobby, I'm not... not at all, this is... lovely, thank you." Even to her own ears that had sounded pathetic. She drops her head and sighs before looking up at him again, an apology is on her lips but his eyes stop her words.

Bobby gives her a soft smile and Lindsay knows that he hasn't been convinced. He takes her hand in his, holds it against his heart and leans in to place a soft kiss on each cheek. Although his actions are tender, she can feel his tension; he is coiled tight, like a spring waiting to explode. Lindsay watches him and waits for the next shock to come because she knows now that there is more and dreads what it is that she is about to hear. From the beating of his heart, she knows that he is finding it difficult to say. That he has brought her here to say it terrifies her, one word fills her mind: why?

Bobby takes a deep breath and tells her the one thing that he hopes she wants to hear, the one thing that he hopes will make what is to come bearable for her, "We aren't staying here, this... this is just for tonight."

Lindsay looks up at him in confusion, her mind warring between absolute delight that they are leaving and annoyance that they have come here at all. 'Why?' she wants to ask him, but she can see how afraid he is so she remains quiet; knowing that through silence she will receive an answer sooner, she waits patiently for him to gain the courage to speak.

Taking a step back, Bobby leans against the railing; with their joined hands stretching out between them, he holds hers tight, afraid that she will want to let go. His voice is soft when he says, "Tomorrow we'll drive up the coast, we're staying at a little B&B away from the city... far away from everything." He tugs her a little closer and leaning towards her says, "All you'll need to think about is sun, surf and me."

Lindsay sees the question in his eyes, 'If that is what you still want?' It is! She feels the excitement and joy rush through her at the prospect of tomorrow, that is exactly what she'd hoped for, what she'd dreamed of all week. Just hearing him speak of it has her body alight with pleasure, from the tip of her head to the end of her toes. Stepping into his arms, she sighs, "Bobby, that sounds wonderful." She holds him tight and again admonishes herself for having allowed sorrow to intrude on their vacation, for having doubted him. Sure, she has no idea what is going on tonight but she knows him well enough to have faith in him, to trust that there is a reason for all of this and it will make sense, in time, if she just gives him a chance to explain. She feels Bobby drop a kiss to her head before his arms loosen as he guides her out of the embrace.

Lindsay takes a step back so that she can see Bobby's face, wanting to see what it is that he intends to say. She knows that they have an impending conversation that is obviously frightening them both; she'd felt the fear in his body as she'd held him. She promises him with her eyes that she'll listen, begs him to tell her now, to get this out of the way before the agony of the unknown becomes any more intolerable.

Leaning towards her, Bobby's eyes lock on hers as he says, "Tonight, Lindsay, tonight is... when I saw you come out here... I knew that this was... right, was needed..."

"What are you talking about?" Lindsay tenderly asks, concerned by the uncertainty that she sees in his eyes.

"Unfinished business," Bobby says as he turns away and looks out over the railing, afraid to meet her eye. He looks at the scenery that he'd failed to noticed last time, no, then, he'd been too focused on anger and fear to see anything, including how much he'd hurt her. They haven't been the same since and that scares him. He can only hope the wounds that he'd inflicted aren't too deep to heal. Can only hope that she didn't notice him stumble over the word right, that she doesn't see that he has no idea what he is doing anymore, that she's trusting in him when he no longer trusts himself. Follow the plan, he reminds himself; hoping that what he'd devised before his mind had become fraught with emotion will prove itself to be right. Apprehensively he asks, "Do you remember the last time we stood out here?"

Lindsay's eyes drop down when Bobby turns back to look at her and he knows that she remembers it all too well, that she feels it all still. He wants to get down on his knees and beg forgiveness, to take her in his arms, hold her against him and never let her go, but he doesn't, because the decision to return to him needs to be hers. Unconsciously, though, he takes a little step forward; he's now close enough that he can feel her in the air around him, feel her heat and know that if he just reaches out, a little, he would touch her.

He waits for her to look at him and when her eyes rise, with a voice filled with sincerity, he softly says, "I never apologized to you for what happened out here, Lindsay... and that was wrong of me. I'm sorry for the way that I treated you then; I wasn't there for you, instead of helping you through a difficult time, I just made things harder... and I... I'm sorry... I've been wanting to say that for a while now." He sighs in frustration as he'd had such a long speech prepared; there is so much more that he had planned to say but, when she looks at him, the emotions rise, words falter and it all goes unsaid.

Seeing his struggle, Lindsay smiles and steps forward into his arms. As her cheek rests against his chest, she looks out over the horizon at the sun beginning to set. Until his apology had been given, she hadn't known how much she'd needed to hear it, how much she had doubted it would ever come. She knows that this is only the first step in returning to the way that they'd been before this rift but that he has taken this step delights her. Bobby prefers to believe that all is fine, prefers to ignore that there is a problem until it blows up in his face. That he has seen the need for resolution here and has been brave enough to act to correct it is not something she would ever have expected. No, emotional discussions between them normally only occur when she reaches breaking point and forces him to face them; that he has possibly saved them months of miscommunication is a true relief.

Lindsay fights back her tears of gratitude, afraid that Bobby will mistake their origins. She holds him tight, silent until she's sure that her voice will hold, then says, softly, "Thank you, Bobby."

"I never believed it, Lindsay... what I accused you of, I never believed it," Bobby says, stunned to be holding her in his arms; one hand softly strokes her hair as the other encloses her waist.

"I know that," Lindsay replies, pulling back. She looks down and then back up at him, determined to meet this head on; he's brought her here to open old wounds so there is nothing to be gained in hiding them. "Even then, I knew it, Bobby, that's why it hurt me so much to hear you say what you did... If you'd believed in what you were saying... it would have upset me that you doubted me, that you had so little faith in me... but... I guess, I could understand you saying it... if you truly believed it. What hurt was that you didn't believe, which means that there was no reason to say it... other than... you said it purely to wound me, you said it knowing that it would."

"No..." Bobby says, shaking his head, desperately trying to deny the allegation, hating the suggestion that he would ever chose to hurt her.

She won't let him though deny it though; if he wants her honesty then he owes her his. "Yes, Bobby, you know that it's true. You didn't believe there was anything between Dennis and I, yet you virtually accused me of sleeping with him; you knew that would hurt me, but you said it anyway..." she closes her eyes and sighs, hating the shrill tone that has risen in her voice. Calming herself, she reopens her eyes and says, "I'm sorry... I guess it still hurts."

Bobby looks down and Lindsay knows that her outburst has hit home, that he has seen the extent of her pain. Not wanting to fight with him tonight, wanting him to know that it's something that she believes they can put behind them, Lindsay takes his hand, and says, "We're here to make new memories, so, please, let's not get lost in the old ones. We can... we can move on from this, Bobby."

Bobby nods, he still has so much more that he wants to say; he'd never realized that it was going to be so hard to say it all. Lindsay has asked him to not get lost in the old memories, but there is so much that he wants to fix, and mind made up, he wants to fix it all now. He looks at her, he sees the plea in her eyes to let this go, sees the exhaustion on her features and doesn't have the heart to press her further; reluctantly, he lets it drop. He's waited this long to do it, he can wait a little more. He turns to look out over the railing and is surprised at the view that he sees; for the first time, he really looks at what lays before them, "It is beautiful out there, isn't it?" he says.

"Yeah," Lindsay sighs, relieved with his change of focus; as much as she knows that they need to talk, she doesn't feel ready. She doesn't like to go into something like this unprepared, she prefers time to sort her thoughts out before she confronts him with them, time to ensure that she can push her emotions down and confront him clearheaded.

Turning back to face her, Bobby admits, "I never did notice that before."

"Me either," she tells him.

Confident that he's the reason why, Bobby, again, says, "I'm sorry."

Lindsay closes the distance between them as she tells him, "I know, Bobby." She draws his face close and gives him a tender kiss, "It's okay, it's over now and it's time for us to move forward."

Nodding, he looks at her, smiles at the confident look in her eye. He sees in her expression, gratitude, happiness and hope; he can live with that, it is more than enough to start their journey with, more than he feels he deserves. So they haven't sorted everything out but when do they ever. Lindsay's ready to let it go and move forward with him; he can do that too, he can let go of the guilt and the hurt, so he can hold on to the wonderful, hold on to her. His hand raises, sliding her hair behind her ear, then caressing her cheek, he tenderly says, "You look tired."

"I am," she sighs, pleased with his change of direction, "I'm still on east coast time, Bobby..." she grins up at him, and teases fondly, "It's past my bedtime and you haven't even fed me yet, some holiday planner you are."

Bobby feels the air around him change; why is it that one grin from her can make all his cares fly away? He nods, and slipping into his part in their time perfected routine, he counters with, "Some of us ate on the plane."

"Some of us have more respect for their bodies," she retorts.

God he loves her! Bobby grasps her hips in his hands and leans down to nuzzle against her neck, "Mmmm, can I just say that I have a more than healthy respect for your body too."

Lindsay wiggles in his arms, as much an excuse for delicious frottage as an attempt to capture his mouth with hers. "Bobby!" she whines when his lips remain elusive.

Raising his head, he kisses her as she's wanted him to; he kisses her the way that he knows he should have done when last they stood here. hey exchange soft kisses, lips meeting and brushing, tenderly, over and over, with no intent but the joy of being together, no need to rush when they have perfection already. Eventually, Bobby breaks the kiss and whispering against Lindsay's flushed skin, "Do you want to go out? Get something to eat?"

Lindsay shakes her head, "No, I'm happy here," she replies, surprising herself when she realizes that it's true; this place that she'd feared coming to tonight has lost it's potency, it has no power over her now. She knows that tonight, their painful memories will be vanquished when they replace them with ones filled with peace and, hopefully, joy.

Bobby pulls away and, smiling at her, brushes his fingers over her face, removing the tears that she'll never admit she has shed. "Why don't you go freshen up," he softly suggest, knowing how much she hates the feel of herself after flying. Seeing no objection arising, he adds, "And, while you shower, I'll have room service send us up something."

"Mmmm, perfect," Lindsay says, nodding her head and smiling, mesmerized by the love reflected in his eyes. Her hands rise to his face and guide it down to hers so that she can kiss his cheek. "I won't be long," she promises, kissing the other side before letting him go.

Bobby smiles and his hand trails along Lindsay's arm as she slowly backs away. He watches her turn and go, then closing his eyes relishes the smell of her perfume that still lingers in the air. He turns and leans on the railing, replaying the scene in his head; though she hasn't said much, he now knows that he'd hurt her even more than he'd realized. He has a lot of making up to do, but, he also knows that she'll let him do it, that together they will get past this. Sighing with past regrets, he turns and walks to the phone; he can start making things better by ordering her a meal, that's the easy part, then will come conversation, confession, penitence and hopefully forgiveness.

As Bobby reaches for the phone an idea forms, his hand stops mid air as he thinks it over, then, with a little chuckle, he lowers it, picking up the phone.


    To be continued
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