I sat at the oversized table in one of the many humid, sticky conference rooms located within the main headquarters of the NYPD. My head swam with information, overflowing as I worked diligently to sort it all out on the stack of paperwork in front of me. The table had been in constant rotation with pizza boxes and coke cans, police officers and other detectives who we'd worked side-by-side with on the case that morning. We'd all come back for a rendevous of sorts... a sit-in of facts and information... of evidence and shared knowledge. The ultimate goal -- to figure out who done it, to find them and then to arrest them and put them behind bars for a long, long, long time. My hope -- to end this case quickly, for myself, my partner, and everyone else involved.

I hummed our song to myself as I went over the information for about the 10th time in the several hours we'd been there. I hadn't even realized it was our song when I'd started humming... it just came to me. At some point most of the officers had left, having shared what little information they knew. They were ready to head home to their lives and their families... others were headed back to the streets, all of them were ready to forget about this case. I was working on the write-up for my 8th and final interview. I'd interviewed not only Mr. Carter that morning, but also the waitress in the coffee shop -- Heather Lipsten was her name and Nick had been right, she had a great personality, I'd interviewed the pen chewing employee at the front desk -- Charles Edwin -- and I'd interviewed 5 of the individuals who'd ended up in the rooms after all was said and done. I never found the woman with the red purse or the mother with her little boy. I never found the man in the tan jacket with the baseball cap.

I glanced up momentarily from my mound of paper work to watch as Boscorelli and Faith Yokas chatted across the table. His mood hadn't improved since we'd arrived and if I didn't know any better I'd have thought Yokas was chewing his ear about whether or not he was okay. That made me feel better. If ever there was a time I couldn't get through to Maurice Boscorelli... I could always count on Faith. I watched them for a few moments before averting my eyes to the other side of the table where Sullivan, Davis and Finney were now playing cards. Wow. I had to give it to those guys... they could make the best of any bad situation. They'd offered for all of us to play, but I just wanted to finish up and get home to my husband and children.

After a few minutes of watching them play, I finally forced myself to focus on my work again. I didn't have too much left to do, but my mind was a jumble, my eyes were blurred and my fingers were cramped. All I wanted to do was lay my head down on the table and hope the information would somehow seep out my ears and write itself. Slowly the people around me disappeared. First it was Sullivan and his partner who were supposed to be going back on call, then Yokas and Finney left to go home. At some point Boscorelli left the room... but I wasn't too sure when that happened because I'd gotten lost in my work and in my own thoughts about the day.

When I looked up and noticed Davis sitting across from me staring, I sighed. I did not need to deal with all of this today. Actually I would have been happy never having to think about it or deal with it again. That would have made my life much easier.

"Almost done?" He asked as he stood and walked over to the coffee pot. I couldn't imagine he still had paperwork to do... so why was he still here?

"Almost," I responded with as little enthusiasm as I felt, looking down and returning to my work.

"You thirsty?" He asked as he brought a cup of coffee over and set it down in front of me before he started massaging my shoulders.

I moaned out loud. This was not happening. This was just not happening. Not now, not tonight... not happening.

"Ty," I whined, laying my head down on the table. I felt him sit down in the chair beside me but I refused to look up at him.

"Amy..." He was waiting. I had to say something. I'd practiced this conversation a million times in my mind, but it wasn't coming easily. Why was I hesitating?

"We can't do this anymore." I finally blurted it out. It felt good to say it, to get it off my chest. I looked up briefly and was not surprised to see the look of shock and confusion on his face.

"Do what?... Why not?" He asked... as if he really needed to know. As if he really needed to hear the answer from me.

I looked at him completely now. Eyes meeting eyes, hand reaching out for hand. "You know what... and you know why."

He frowned and stood up walking towards the door. Leaving. He was good at leaving.

"I thought I was pregnant Ty." I don't know why I said it... I wasn't... it was none of his business anyway... not now that I knew we had nothing to worry about.

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned towards me. He shook his head, "What?"

"Yeah... I took a test this morning... it was negative." He walked towards me again and took me in his arms. I couldn't help but fall into him... I was crying. I hated feeling this way... hated feeling like this when I knew I shouldn't. It was wrong. I pushed him away... it was hard to believe there was a time when I would have been more than thrilled to sharing this bit of information with him.

"No!" I said as he tried to pull me back and I pushed him farther... "We can't do this anymore... I love Jimmy... I love my family. I can't do this anymore."

"But I love you." Why? Why the hell did he have to say that? He couldn't possibly LOVE me.

I stood quickly, throwing the papers into my briefcase and flying out the conference room door as the tears fell steadily down my face. Damn him. The tears were blurring my vision and I just wanted to get the hell out of that building and far away from everything I couldn't face right now but something stopped me. Something tall and soft... I ran smack into him.

"Keener?" I looked up into the tired eyes of Maurice Boscorelli and he looked down at me with deep concern, "Are you okay."

I nodded, not knowing what to say... "I'm okay." I looked towards the conference room and his eyes followed mine. Davis was sitting in a chair at the table with his back to us.

"What'd he do?" Bosco asked, concern growing in his voice by the second.

"Nothing," I said trying my best to hide my emotions by plastering a smile on my face... a smile, the best I knew how... "He didn't do anything."

I gave Bosco a quick hug and let him know I'd see him the next day and then I ran out the building and into the darkened parking lot, the smile still etched on my face. I climbed into my car and aimed it in the direction of the only peaceful place I could think of. I needed to go... to get away from it all.

I was going to need to do a lot of smiling to feel better about all of this.