***

Gina stumbles up the driveway in the darkness, numb, depleted, tears flowing silently. Every snapping twig rings in her ears as a gunshot, every person she passes is the man on the ground, the one she couldn't describe. This is foolish; the man has been captured and the shooters are dead, but she can't stop shaking, and she can't stop jumping at every sound.

At least she's not thinking yet. Not feeling. She's run on instinct all night, and instinct has told her that only the job matters. Get Bookbag in the car. Describe the signal man. Make sure Eagle's all right. There was nothing she could have done about Fulbright, so she won't think about him. Not thinking about anything seems like the best plan for now.

As she steps up to the front door she notices the light in her living room, and the tears start once more. She hadn't expected this tonight, but it might save her. She comes into the house and collapses against the door.

"Gina?"

"You should be at the hospital." It hurts CJ that Gina does not thank her for coming or ask her if she's okay, but both of those things come too close to thinking and feeling.

"The President's going to be fine, and Josh will be in surgery for at least ten more hours. I told Leo I needed to be with you."

"You told him? About us?" She's still leaning against the door.

"I told him months ago. He came to me tonight, asking if I thought you'd be all right. He was worried about you."

"Really?" He came up to her in the hospital, looking protective. He was the only one who asked her if she was all right. When she continued to obsess about the third accomplice, and how she couldn't give Cho a clear description, he didn't blame her. He just said, "You got the girl in the car." He sent her home, told her to get some rest, and wouldn't listen when she said she had to stay with Zoey. He assured her that Zoey was safe for the night and told her again, in a tone that did not allow her to argue, to go home.

"He said you were agitated. He told me to make sure you knew it wasn't your fault."

"I know it's not."

CJ comes around the corner and faces her. "Do you?"

"CJ, I don't want to talk about it."

She nods. "All right. Do you want coffee?"

Gina looks at her, and there's only one thing she wants. She pushes away from the wall, takes CJ's face in her hands and kisses her. Slowly, almost tentatively. CJ grabs Gina's hair and pulls her closer. Gina's lips part; she forces her tongue into CJ's mouth; CJ gasps and pushes back. They stagger into the bedroom and fall across the bed.

A frenzy seizes Gina. She rips CJ's clothes off in ten seconds, then pins her to the bed. Her tongue never stills for a moment. CJ's gasps totter between pleasure and pain. She comes three times in rapid succession, and Gina can't stop, her tears falling onto CJ's thighs. CJ can't take any more; her body is raw. "Gina!" she gasps, pushing Gina's head away.

Gina looks at her with pleading eyes. Her clothes join CJ's on the floor and CJ gives back what has been taken from Gina. When Gina comes something breaks inside her, whatever has been holding her together falls apart, and her entire body convulses with sobs that ricochet around the room like the wail of sirens, like the screams of the crowd, like bullets. And when this has worked its way through her, and she is so drained she cannot feel her body, Gina sleeps.