His face felt glued to the kitchen table on which he had fallen asleep only hours after he'd peeled himself from the couch, and as Mike slowly, groggily, came out of his unconsciousness he had to lift his head carefully, peeling his cheek from the Formica. Then he heard it again: the phone burred just next to his ear, and he flinched. "What," he growled into the receiver, sitting back in his chair and patting down his hair, which he knew probably resembled a ski slope.
"Logan, it's Profaci."
Mike pried his eyes open, hoping the officer had some information, and focused on his kitchen table. "Yeah, what did you find."
"Nothing, Mike, she's not in any of the hospitals, I checked morgues on the Jane Does found last night, everything. Nothing matches the description. And the regular homeless shelters, they didn't see anyone matching her description neither."
On the one hand, Mike was relieved. The idea of a Jane Doe applying to Alexa made him queasy. Of course, so did the JD he'd been sipping since he got home last night. He couldn't face the station house in his state, so he'd called Profaci, who had to put in a few hours this weekend, first thing to check out a few ideas. On the other hand, Profaci's news meant she went somewhere else last night. Mike had called Gretchen's place and tried to sound less drunk than he was, but at four in the morning little sounded coherent, and she had saidÊAlexa wasn't there, that she hadn't seen her in a month, but she could have been lying. Still, Mike sensed she wasn't. After that, he ran out of ideas. He didn't have phone numbers for her band members, though that seemed likely...she would probably want to run back to the other guy after what happened the night before. But he didn't know their names, or how to trace them. Not at least on a Saturday. "Thanks, man," he told Profaci. "I really appreciate your doing this. And your keeping it quiet."
"No easy thing," agreed Profaci. "You owe me one. But there's one more thing. The 15th picked up two dopeheads last night. They had a stack of credit cards on em, a piece, and a few dirty knives, plus a drugstore of pills. One of the cards has Alexa's name on it."
Mike stood in a jerky motion and his head swam. "Where are these assholes?"
"Well, that's the thing. They're out already. Some glitch, Legal Aid already has em gone again. But the 15th faxed the report over to me, they say they just ran around Central Park whacking and sticking people, then taking their money and cards. They said they didn't buy it from anybody, they took it for themselves."
"And they're out?" Mike was livid.
"Don't yell at me, Mike. I wasn't the one who fucked up here."
"Yeah, sorry." Mike paused. "They didn't...remember her, taking anything from her, did they?"
"Nobody asked, Mike. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."
You're a detective, someone had told him once. So start detecting. And that was what Mike began to do. It meant he didn't have to think so hard about why Alexa had run off into the middle of Central Park, it meant he didn't have to fully come to terms with the fact that she had dumped him, possibly for good, and it meant he didn't have to come to terms with the fact that she was carrying his baby. Probably. It meant he could just go looking for her. And if he could find her, somehow, he would make things all right. He would come to terms with it then.
He got the description of the perps from the weekend crew at the 15th, along with their pictures, and spent most of the early afternoon combing through Central Park, starting around where Alexa had disembarked and walking in an ever-widening circle, poking through the known drug haunts, going places he felt uneasy in even during the daytime, and shoved the pictures in front of every junkie's face. Finally, one pothead said he'd point out where the people from the pictures slept if Mike promised not to hit him across the head again. That sounded reasonable, so after he pointed Mike dropped him back on the cruddy blanket where he'd been sleeping.
They scattered like rats at his approach, but they were too zonked to make good time, and Mike tackled the slowest one, pinning him to the ground. He shoved Alexa's photo in the ragged man's face and felt an extreme sense of satisfaction come over him when recognition dawned. "What you give me if I tell?" the junkie asked Mike.
Mike pulled back his leather jacket and showed his piece. "Your life," he hissed. "Now feel like telling?"
"Okay, man, okay." The junkie licked his lips. "Yeah, I remember her. Pretty one. We thought she was one of us. Easy target. Stumbling around. Went down like that, across the head, pow! Took her stuff, she was totally out of it, so we didn't do her. Yeah, I remember."
Mike let him up and grabbed him by his ponytail, his mouth twisted in anger. Alexa had been hit, knocked cold, left completely open in Central Park. He wasn't sure who he was more enraged at, the mindless junkie or himself. "Take me there."
They'd dropped her not far from the avenue. Mike could hear traffic just a short distance away. She must have been trying to get back to the main road, he reasoned, and when he emerged just a short distance from Columbus Circle, he guessed it was to get to the subway. She could have wanted to take a cab, but he knew Alexa wasn't much on cabs, nor did she usually have the money for them. No, she would have aimed for the subway, and tried to get there, even after she woke up. He descended into the underground and started all over again.

---

They drove out to Ben's house from the city in relative silence, the early afternoon sun streaming in the car windows, the unspoken between them but not exactly uncomfortable. Clarence had to be seen after, regardless of what else Ben was doing that day, or where he would be spending his time, and Alexa had shyly asked if she might come out with him to see the dog. Just before they left, Barney had offered to entertain them both that evening, if they were so inclined to come back after seeing to Clarence. Alexa had raised her eyebrow. "What sort of plans are we talking about," she asked, casually suspicious.
"Anything," said Barney. "Nothing. What makes Ben happy makes me happy, and I do believe he has every intention on trying to get you to cheer up."
Alexa had slowly closed her eyes. She didn't know what she was supposed to do now. It was too much to think about, too hard just then. It was Mike's turn to do something, to make the first move, if in fact he still cared enough to try and reconcile. As long as she stayed hidden, of course, she made that action harder, but perhaps they both needed a day to cool down, to figure out what was important. She did not regret her decision. She regretted that it had gone so badly, and that he had taken it the way he had, and for that she blamed herself. But she was not willing to stand down to have Mike back, as awful as his absence might be. She felt empowered with a sense of what was right, and that made her convictions almost religious. So she decided to take the day, and the night, to let him stew, to let him figure a few things out on his own. "I think," she said, "I could do with a bit of cheering up."
Barney had winked at her, ordering the two of them to be back at his place by five, and they had driven off, back to Ben's house, in their silence. Once there they took Clarence for a walk in the woods, listening to their feet crunch the leafs, squinting in the afternoon sun, holding hands while Clarence bounded ahead, sniffing at anything and chasing whatever moved. Ben had been surprised when she took his hand; it was something they really hadn't done before, for whatever reason, and after they'd made it out of his backyard into the wooded area the feel of her hand slipping into his was unexpected. He squeezed tightly for a moment. "I suppose," he said after a long while, feigning ignorance of the absence of her ring, "that I should offer my congratulations."
"Well," she said carefully, "I guess you should have at one point. I don't actually know if they're appropriate any more." She looked at him. "I suppose Claire told you."
He nodded. "She did. And you were right. She is always around for the important things."
"How did she tell you, Ben?" Alexa said huskily, wanting to know, trying to avoid the obvious subject.
He remembered. He'd just started his lunch, reading over a dismissal motion -- there were always motions to be read -- and the more he worked the easier it was to try and regain the person he had been before he had started up with Alexa. Claire had walked in and shut door behind her, her face a confusion of suppressed delight and surprise, all sublimated by her reluctance to convey the news she had to. Ben hadn't looked up right away.
"What'd they say about Verlaine?" he asked her, reading his paper and swallowing part of a sandwich.
"We didn't actually get to talk about the Verlaine case," she said. "I'll have to go back tomorrow."
He lay the motion down on his desk and removed his glasses. "Claire, we have to get moving with this. You know we've only got until Monday to --"
"Logan left early," she jumped in, and took a deep breath. "He left after asking Alexa Radin in to the precinct and proposing to her in front of everybody. And....she accepted." Claire turned away, seeing the awful surprise in Ben's face.
Ben stood up in his seat, his food turning to rocks in his stomach, and he half turned to his window with his hands on his hips, wanting to do something and feeling impotent. He knew it would be coming, he knew better, he knew if he cleared things up with Logan this was a likely thing to happen. He knew they would probably get back together. But he'd underestimated Logan, who realized a good thing when he saw it. Ben never figured he'd ask her to marry him. And in a great sweeping motion he'd knocked everything off his desk, the papers, his lunch, his pens making a terrific crashing noise as they fell to the floor. Claire cringed.
"Ben," she said and started over to him.
"Out," he told her. "Just get out. I'll clean this up."
A knock came at the door and she opened it. Jack McCoy, always listening at walls, peered in. "Have a problem, Ben?"
Claire pushed him out. "Not now, Jack. Just a spill. I'll see you later, Ben," she said, and closed the door behind her.
In the woods, Alexa was taken aback by his reaction. "I'm so sorry," she told him. "You really cleared your desk?"
He laughed softly. "Yeah. I got soda all over my papers and they're hanging up to dry this weekend. What a colossal mess. As I was picking it up I started laughing, mainly because the joke was on me. I'd done the right thing, I'd gone to Mike and told him the story, and he actually listened closely enough to hear me. And this is what I get for it. What an ass."
She wrapped her arm around his, still holding his hand. "Ben, I never expected anything less from you. You did the only thing you could do. And I'm so sorry it worked out like this."
"No, you're not," he said kindly, " but for me, I know it was the only thing that could have been done. It doesn't make me feel any better, knowing that. I told you once you made me greedy, and you always do, Alexa. I always want more time with you, more everything, mostly because I know I'm not going to get it."
She fell silent, not knowing what to say, wanting to reassure him, knowing she had to suppress any intimate urges. She wanted to kiss him, she wanted their pretend world back, and knew to give in to it again would be a completely different kind of betrayal of Mike. There was no going back.
"I don't want to need you," he told her.
"You don't," she told him. "Really, you don't."
They walked some more. "How is....Mike?" he asked. "Is he...different?"
She nodded. "Not quite in the way I'd been afraid he would be. He's...more thoughtful now, more....inward. I don't think I've seen it all yet, we haven't even talked about what happened, but he's less, somehow, headstrong. Not a lot, but an edge is gone. You know, like the first time a ballplayer hurts himself...they don't quite play the same again. He'll be all right, he's already back on the streets, he'll do great."
"You didn't tell him about....us."
She nodded. "He knows....there was someone. But I told him he's going to have to live without ever knowing who. I reminded him how I'd told you I wouldn't rat him out on the stand; he had to see that this was equally important for me."
"And he just accepted that?" Ben was incredulous.
"I told him piecemeal. He got used to it. And I told him before he proposed. So yes, I'd say he's all right with...at least that part of things."
Ben smiled ironically to himself. "No wonder he moved so fast."
"What do you mean?"
He smiled at her. "You're so smart, Alexa, but sometimes you just don't get it. I'd guess he really wants to marry you, and did want to even before you told him what had gone on, but I'd suspect you sped things up tenfold by being honest with him. He wants to make sure he gets you before someone else does, and suddenly you made him realize he's not the only man in the universe." He laughed shortly. "I would pay good money to see the look on his face if you told him the guy who gave him the bums rush was me. That'd be precious. Of course, I'd need to go into witness protection after, but that one moment...."
"That's not why I told him," she said defiantly.
"I know, I understand. It's just...amusing. Let me be amused here, or I'm not going to hold up well."
"Ha, ha," she said grimly.

---

The head of the subway police let Mike check over the reports from the night before, but there were no incidents of arrest or hospitalization on any of them. He tracked down the patrolmen who had been roaming the night before on the train line that ran through Columbus Circle, and again showed Alexa's photo to them all, asking if they could recall seeing her, possibly looking a little beaten up, on the train sometime after eight the night before. It was tedious, arduous work, but the longer he did it, the more Mike felt he had to do it. He would find her, he knew he would. He would find her, and somehow, in doing so he would make things better.
He was waiting for one of the patrolmen from the night before, one who was pulling a double shift, to finish making a report, and when he was done, they boarded the subway car together. As the man mulled over Alexa's photo, Mike ran his eyes over the subway advertisements. So many devoted to making a person more beautiful, or curing the sick, or making you more money, and his eyes rested on one bold yellow and black ad for the Nursery Cradle Adoption Agency down on Lexington. In large block letters the ad declared that they would find families for your unborn children, families that would love your child as if it were your own. Something about that phrase hooked into Mike's brain, and he felt a tiny flower of realization bloom.
"Hey," the subway cop was poking him. "Hey."
"Well?" Logan turned on him.
"Yeah, I saw her. She's homeless, right? Anyway, she was sleeping, so I talked to her, made sure she wasn't harassing anyone, made sure she wasn't strung out, then moved on. No big deal, not like I needed to write it up. But I remember her now. She had this bruise on her chin, looked like someone had given her the workover."
Mike's eyes brightened. "When was this?"
"Around midnight, I s'pose. Yeah, that sounds about right. We were just coming back over the river then."
He frowned. "The river? She was coming inbound from out of town?"
The cop nodded. "Yeah, cause I was thinking about my lunch break around then, and I know this great place at one of the stops I was gonna hop off and grab me something."
It didn't make sense. Where would Alexa have gone out in the boroughs, or out of Manhattan entirely? And why would she immediately have come back in to town? "You don't happen to remember where she got off."
The cop nodded. "Yeah, same stop as me, where my sandwich place is. Here, we'll be at the stop in a minute or two, I'll point you. I just remember her getting off, pushing by me, seemed like she had someplace to go, which I thought was funny cause I just figured she was homeless. They don't usually act like they have some big appointment."
"And after that?"
The cop shook his head. "After that, I got me a sandwich. She coulda gone anywhere."
Mike nodded. "I figured."

---

They had been out for a long time, and even Clarence was getting tired, but neither Ben nor Alexa felt like heading back in just yet. Something about the solitude of a cold fall day, walking in the forest as they had so many times before almost made the place feel removed from the real world again. Ben looked at her, still holding her hand. "Do you think at some point you might like to tell me what happened between you and Mike?"
"Between me and...Mike....how do you know something happened, Ben?"
He turned to her, holding out her hand, and Alexa glanced at him, surprised at how saddened he looked. He had been hoping she would confide in him, and could keep his curiosity and concern quiet no longer. "You're here, for one thing. You're not wearing any ring. And you've got that horrible bruise. Of course I can tell something happened."
She creased her brow, not certain why he was connecting the two facts. Then it dawned on her. "You don't think...that Mike would...."
"No, I don't, not really."
"Ben, I was mugged in Central Park."
"You were in Central Park," he said flatly, and she realized he did not believe her.
"We had a fight," she told him. "We were in one of those buggy rides, and I jumped out and ran off. He tried to follow, but I got away. And like an idiot, found myself in the middle of Central Park after dark. I was trying to find the subway when I got knocked out from behind..there's a knot the size of a peach in the back of my head, and I must have fell funny, I think I hit my jaw on the ground. They took everything except five dollars I had hidden in case of emergency. And I came to find you. That a good enough alibi for you?"
"What about the ring?"
Alexa stared at the pine trees and was silent a long time. "I gave it back to him. He wasn't...ready...to accept certain facts, and I told him I couldn't wear it until he did. Then I jumped from the buggy."
"What facts were those, Alexa?" He stopped and made her face him. "What facts could he not face?"
"Oh, Ben," she said, her body falling limp.
"What, I might not be ready to accept them, either, Alexa?"
She stared at him for a long time. "I'm going to have a baby."
"I know that," he said softly.
Her mouth fell open slightly. "How?"
He told her what had happened at the hospital. "I figured you would tell me when you were ready. That was when I was also figuring on us having more than just one last visit together."
She stared at the ground. "I know. I just left. I am sorry, Ben, it was...not very fair to you. But it was the only thing I could see doing any more. We were hurting each other by that point, and I didn't want us to end up hating each other. I had to leave. Besides, I didn't want to face you on the witness stand." She smiled wanly.
"I know, Lexa, I understand. I didn't at first. But...what could Mike not accept?" Ben prodded gently. "I find it hard to believe he didn't want to become a father."
"No," she said. "He just didn't want to be a father if the baby wasn't his."
He gripped her hands tightly. "Then Alexa...does that mean.."
She shook her head. "It means nothing," she told him, the frustration of repeating it all over again creeping into her tone. "I don't want to know the answer to that. It isn't...relevant. At first, I wasn't going to even suggest there might be doubt. But there is doubt, a doubt I am never going to resolve. Ben, I told him I was willing to spend the rest of my life with him. There is no gain in finding out that the baby isn't his. It helps no one to know. For me, genetics...DNA...they mean less than nothing. The people in my life who have hurt me the most are the ones I share a family tree with. It's all bullshit. If Mike's going to be my husband...and that seems to be in doubt now...then he has to be a father regardless of blood type."
"I can't believe you're telling me this."
"Neither can I. But you asked. Long ago I told you not to ask questions you didn't want to know the answers to."
"It might be my child, Alexa."
She tossed her head. "It is Mike's child, Ben, because it has to be. That's the only answer there is."
He shook his head, feeling pained in ways he had never dreamed. "Why tell him at all, then, Alexa? Why tell me? Why even bring the question up? You didn't have to say anything, and it would have made everything so much easier. It makes no sense."
Alexa dropped his hands and laughed, turning around, her cawing making echoing, hollow sounds in the empty forest. She laughed a long time, not finding anything funny but everything ironic, and after a long while she turned back to Ben, who had paled and folded his arms in annoyance. "I'm sorry, Ben, but if you knew...." she wiped tears from her eyes and tried to lose the laughter in her voice, pushing her hand onto his chest. "You, you Ben Stone, are a hypocrite. All this time, what's right, what's right, do the right thing, I gotta face myself in the mirror when it's all over -- you're the one to tell everyone else what to do, or to clear your own conscience, but boy, when it doesn't benefit you in the least -- ffft!" She waved her hand in the air. "Out it goes! And to think I bought in to all that!"
"I'm glad I can be a source of amusement," he told her tightly. "I assure you it's not the first time." He turned, about to head back, but she put a hand on his shoulder and turned him to her.
"I'm sorry, I am," she said, more seriously, and rested her hand on his cheek. "I don't think you're a source of amusement. I don't find any of this funny, not in the least. I told Mike what I did out of a sense that he had a right to know. And he does. He has the right to know that someone else may be the father of his child. He may also have the right to know even more than that...like your name...but I have the right not to tell him beyond a certain point. So he will not know everything. That is how it works. I said I wasn't going to even raise the possibility of doubt, and then...I thought of you. You did the hard thing once, as I'm sure you've done it before, because the right thing to do isn't usually the easiest thing, or the best thing. You taught me that. And I still think I did the right thing. It's just...hearing you question what I did, without even thinking it through to the most logical reasoning point behind it...I had to laugh. I guess I expected you to pat me on the head and give me cookies or something, which was asinine. So much of this is ridiculous. I just had to laugh, Ben. Do you hate me?"
Ben took her hands in his again and pulled her closer to him, feeling both still a little resentful she had mocked him and proud that she seemed to be growing up a little at the same time. "God, Alexa, how could I hate you," he told her quietly. "You're like this little planet I love to visit and wish I could live on but know I can't breathe the atmosphere. Come here," he told her, and she leaned into his arms while he hugged her. "You make it so damn hard to hate you. I wish you could stay here with me. Talk about your asinine concepts."
She turned to him and felt her stomach flutter at his closeness. "You mean...you meant...so much to me," she told him, "But...we just couldn't have worked. There was too much...anger, too much of me looking the other way all the time. And, in the short run, I don't care about us being thirty years apart. But long term that would have mattered more and more and you would have hated me in ten more years, and I....I might have ended up feeling cheated somehow." She shook her head. "Your place was a haven, you were a haven for me and if I thought you couldn't live without me being around I'd just stay here forever but I know you're better than that, Ben. You don't really need me here, you did just fine for years without me, and you'll do fine when I'm gone."
Ben was silent for a few moments, and said, "That remains to be seen, I suppose."

---

Mike wasn't sure if he should be relieved or not that the station exited near a densely populated residential section of town. She still could be anywhere. Perhaps she knew someone in the brownstones around the station; it was the only reason he could figure she would come here. But who? None of the band members she played with had two nickels to rub together -- Mike knew they could hardly afford an apartment in this part of town. Could she have thrown herself on the mercy of the Pages? There was a lot of money around here, and instinctively he drew his coat around him. Where to start next?
About a block down from the subway he found a row of shops -- a flower store, a convenience store, a Laundromat, and a liquor store -- and he spent over an hour questioning everyone, the day growing dimmer, the night coming on fast. No one in the first few shops had seen anyone resembling Alexa the night before, but of course all of them had workers who never paid much attention to anything. But the liquor store, that was a different story. He waved the photo at the older Italian man behind the counter, and the shopkeeper nodded. "Yup. She come in here, its after midnight, I think she some kind of bum. But she don't smell like a bum, so I don't kick her out, she just looks beat up. Back of her head, it was bleeding a little, I think. I don't pay attention, I just let her shop. She finds my cheapest wine, it's two-eighty nine, and I ask her for ID. She starts laughing at me, says she's 25, she doesn't need to be carded. I show her my sign," he pointed to the "If you look under 30, we card" note behind the counter "and she starts to cry. So what can I do officer, she needs the wine, she only has a few dollar bills and some change. She says if she doesn't get the wine she'll have to sleep outside. Too cold to let a pretty girl like that sleep in a box. So I sell it to her. Officer, I know I need to card. But a lady's tears, I can not help myself."
Mike nearly leaned over the counter as the man spoke, not understanding what Alexa thought she was doing. His mind felt abuzz, as if he had just recharged his batteries. "Is that it? She left then?"
"Well," the owner said, "I say to her, do you have a long way to walk still, because she starts looking very tired, like she could fall asleep on my floor. And she says no, she only needs to get to Gardener Street, so I think that is not so very far, only another block or two. I ask my son, Anthony, to stand out our shop and watch her go so she will be all right, so she will not get another bruise, and he says he watch her turn on to Gardener, and then he come back. Is all I know."
Though still bemused, Mike felt like shouting. He had found her.

---

Edina finished knotting the small lace bow in the back of Alexa's dress, and smoothed out the shoulders. "Lovely, Ms. Radin, indeed, most lovely."
Alexa opened her eyes and gazed at herself in the mirror, dressed formally for the first time since living with Amelia all those months ago. She hardly recognized herself, so much had she become her twin, from the light touches of makeup Edina had applied, to her hair, done up in a tight braid, also created by Edina's infallible handiwork. Edina had even managed to cover the bruise with foundation well enough that it was really only noticeable at a very close range. The effect was unnerving, yet Alexa smiled to herself. Her sister had always seemed so elegant, so charming, so graceful, and Alexa had always thought those were traits acquired over years of training. And all this time...it had been the clothes she wore. For a moment she stuck out her hip and feigned haughtiness, and for that moment truly became her sister. She let it go like a breath of air being expelled, feeling silly and not a little uneasy at the thought of going out on the town, having a fine old time when she didn't even know where Mike was, or how he was doing. Just wanting to hear his voice she had called his apartment from Barney's phone and let the answering machine pick up, but had been afraid to leave a message. Not home. Where would he be, then?
When she and Ben had arrived back at Barney's later that afternoon their host had greeted them in his den, the fireplace already crackling, and he passed out drinks to them both. They had sat, sharing a quick chat about the afternoon, and at the chime of the half hour Barney fixed them both with an urgent gaze. "I believe we all need to get changed. Alexa, you will find a dress which I hope is suitable hanging on the back of your door upstairs. Ben, you know where the spare room is, and I'm hoping that bundle you brought with you is your tuxedo, and not your laundry." Ben smiled at him. "Good. Then let the festivities begin!" He clapped his hands together, and Edina appeared.
"Barney," Alexa ventured, "what are we dressing up for?"
"In good time, my dear." He smiled indulgently at her.
She wasn't convinced, but Ben nodded at her as if to say, let him take care of us. Let him have his fun. She stood and followed Edina up the long staircase. After a bath, the housekeeper had unwrapped the dress -- Barney must have guessed at her size and sent out for the package just that afternoon -- and sealed up Alexa in it. It was solid black satin, shiny and soft, and it fit against Alexa like a caress. The bottom half bloomed into an ankle-length, shimmering mass of gentle folds and pleats. She smoothed the dress over her emerging stomach, which was just on the edge of being noticeable, and suddenly felt panged with guilt.
"We had to guess about your shoes," Edina broke into her thoughts, "so there are three sizes here." She pulled out several pairs of matching heeled shoes, and Alexa looked dismayed.
"Heels," she said. "I never could walk in them right."
"They are not so tall, I think," Edina said, and helped Alexa stand in them. True, they were not as bad as some of Amelia's had been, but Alexa felt wobbly and unsure. "Here, my dear," said Edina. "Keep your back straight and take small steps. Make the men wait for you." And she took Alexa's hand and helped her around the room, Alexa taking tiny, mincing steps, feeling her ankles strain, but finally getting the hang of it.
Edina brushed her off one last time and squeezed her arms. "And now, you go downstairs. The boys, I think, are waiting."
Alexa had seen a film when she was younger, one where a young woman descends the stairs of a fine mansion, her first time in public as a woman and not a child, and she remembered the expression on the faces of the partygoers at the foot of the stairs, watching her descend. She was not the most beautiful person in the room, nor did she have the nicest dress, but there was something about her that transfixed them, forced them to watch, the sight of beauty in ignorance. And as she came down Barney's staircase, more slowly than she had ever descended stairs thanks to the heels, she noticed the two of them watching her from the living room the same expressions from the film partygoers on their faces.
She stepped into the living room and Barney came over to her. "A superb job. Edina has a special touch. Not, of course, my dear, that she had to do much with yourself." He led her to Ben, who had fallen silent. "Ben, your date for the evening."
He set his drink down on the mantelpiece and took both of her hands in his own, stepping back. He had to blink several times to remind himself that this was his Alexa, not Amelia, but when he looked into her eyes and her questioning face there was no difficulty making the distinction. Her eyes, with makeup subtly applied around them, seemed bigger, and bluer than he'd seen before, and her lips, just brushed with a pale gloss, were inviting and familiar. She had turned from his Alexa, who he had never thought one way or the other about in terms of beauty, she just was, into a vision. He was speechless.
"Ben, you're embarrassing me," she said shyly.
He blinked again. "You never cease to amaze me, Alexa. Never. You're ravishing."
"Now, now," clapped Barney. "No ravishing in my living room. Come, children, it's time to go. Are you ready for the prom, children?"
She giggled, slightly hysterically. "It does feel like prom night."
"Wait. This won't work," said Ben suddenly.
"What?" Alexa turned to him. "You are joking, aren't you?"
Ben eyed Barney, who nodded. "Indeed. This is a bit odd. Well, let us do it this way." He threaded his arm through Alexa's. "My dear, once we exit the limousine, you will be my date for the evening. I can afford a little scandal. Our mutual friend Ben, on the other hand, cannot."
She looked between them. "What do you mean?"
Ben sighed. "Alexa, you have to understand."
Barney cut him off. "Ben, let me explain. Surely, my dear, you have noticed you are the exact image of your sister. This must have occurred to you, and probably before tonight."
She nodded. "Though not exactly," she said. "This is Amelia." And she slid into the persona, throwing on a haughty gaze and stepping over to the mantle where Ben had left his drink, taking a long draught.
"Damn," said Ben. "I'd forgotten you were that good."
"Nonetheless," said Barney, "most people will not notice the subtle differences. It simply will not do to appear as if the prosecutor who just jailed her for the rest of her natural life is escorting Amelia Page out on the town. And rest assured, my dear, we will not go unnoticed. Ben has been on television recently, as has your sister. We will not link them."
"Then why are we even bothering to go out together?" she asked, suddenly despondent.
Barney winked at her. "I don't get out much. When I do, I have been known for playing, let's say, a joke or two. If you go as my date, and we happen to tow Ben along, anyone who might notice will think I have played some sort of grand joke on him. They will think you are an impersonator, perhaps. I assure you, that will be no concern."
"Who....might notice?" she asked.
He waved it off. "Society friends. The kind of people your sister Amelia probably knew well."
"What about...the press?" She felt a chill at the thought of suddenly appearing in tomorrow's 'About Town' section, standing next to Ben, everything perfectly obvious to Mike.
"No press," he assured her. "They've had no warning. We're simply going out to be going out, no openings, no special events. They have no idea."
"All right," she said reluctantly. "Though I wish it could be different."
Ben squeezed her hand. "So do I."
Barney clapped his hands together again. "Then, are we resolved?"
Alexa was pensive and did not respond. The men seemed to be waiting for her decision. After a moment, Alexa turned to Barney and smiled slightly, taking his hand. "Barney, may I please speak to Ben, alone? Just a moment, please?"
"Of course, my dear," he told her, and withdrew from the room, leaving the two of them standing by the fire.
Ben cocked his head and tried to catch her gaze. "What's the matter, Alexa?"
"This isn't right, Ben, I shouldn't be doing this."
He shook his head. "What are you doing that isn't right?"
She took a deep breath. "I just don't think I...after what happened yesterday...what am I doing? I don't know what's happening to me. I should be trying to figure out what I'm going to do with the rest of my life, not playing dressup with the rich, parading around town like nothing's wrong, like I didn't just get engaged and unengaged in a twenty-four hour period. I just feel so...hollow, Ben."
"Do you mean that?"
"I'm caught, Ben," she told him. "There's what I feel and what I know I should feel...and I'm confusing the two right now."
"I'll tell Barney," he said, resigned, and started to head to the hallway. Somewhere in the background, the doorbell rang. Then he turned. "But Alexa, don't you realize? There is no waiting for the rest of your life. You're living it now. And the fact that you're living it right here, in this apartment with me, and not across town with Mike Logan...doesn't that say anything to you? I don't care what happens tomorrow. Just...take tonight for what it is. Whatever ends up tomorrow...wait until daylight.."
She stared at him for a long moment, hearing how important this was to him in the tone of his voice. He might be saying he was doing this for her, but she could sense other feelings at work here. "All right, Ben," she said softly. "Then I will."
He smiled and came back over, putting his hands on her shoulders and hugging her to him. "You smell wonderful," he told her.
"And you," she told him back, smiling just a little, "you were made to wear a tuxedo."
Edina suddenly appeared in the doorway. "Shh!" she ordered in a rough whisper, and they froze where they stood, arms still around one another. Ben stared at her, and she back at him, and for a brief, fleeting moment they felt themselves wrapped in gauze, captured in place. Alexa felt her heart drumming inside her and for just a moment, between the shushing and the voices they heard next, it was like when she had first fallen for him, and nothing else mattered. The realization that she still felt this strongly about him frightened her, but she did not pull back. And then, in the silence, between snaps of the fireplace, their arms still around each other, they could hear Barney's voice at the front door. When he paused, another voice picked up the thread of conversation. It was Mike's.

---

She yanked away from Ben instinctively and was starting toward the hallway when he snatched up her hand. "Where are you going?" he whispered harshly.
"I have to go out there," she told him. "Mike's here, he knows I'm here. He can't see you."
"He doesn't know," Ben pulled her back to him. "He can't possibly."
"What do you think he's doing here, then?" she frowned at him. "Let me go."
He covered her mouth. "Just listen. For once don't act, just listen."
Barney's voice faded in at mid-demurral. "...was here, Detective, but I'm afraid she has gone out already."
"What was she doing here?" Mike demanded, stamping his feet on the stairs, wondering why this bozo wasn't letting him inside.
"Is this part of an investigation, Detective?" Barney asked cagily.
Logan twisted his mouth. "My investigation, yes."
"So, this is not a formal, official investigation is what you're saying."
Mike's eyes blazed at him, and he desperately wanted to push into the hallway, ram this rich jackass up against the wall, and pull the information from him. But he swallowed his impulses, knowing that this time they would do him no good, and could in fact get him in a lot of trouble. He'd been tramping up and down Gardener for the past hour and a half, ringing every doorbell and asking at every entrance, waving his badge when necessary but trying not to arouse suspicion, and he was cold, irritable, and he felt brittle inside and out. Today had been a nightmare of rollercoaster emotions and he just wanted it to be over. He was so close now.... "Please, Mr. Hoskyns," he entreated Barney. "I am a detective, but this is personal...and I'm desperate here. I've been combing the whole city and finally I find someone who knows where she is, and I really, really can't deal with attitude. Can you just tell me where she's gone, and I'll pretend we never talked? I won't mention your name."
Barney did feel sorry for this Logan creature, recognizing the restraint that last statement had required, and he softened a little. But he still knew where his loyalties resided. "Edina," he called, and the housekeeper appeared at the front door. "Please take the detective into the kitchen and give him some coffee. Detective, I will be with you in a moment."
Edina led Mike inside and took him the winding way into the kitchen at the back of the apartment, the furthest location from the living room on that floor. Barney closed the front door and headed back to the living room. "You heard?" he asked Alexa and Ben, who stood holding hands, faces tight and concerned.
Ben nodded. "What next, then?"
"I believe it is for the lady to decide. Alexa?"
"I can't decide, Barney. I just know I'm not ready to face him."
Barney had several words he wanted to share with her but he was torn -- between loyalty to Ben and empathy for what the stranger in the kitchen had been going through. "It sounds as if you have decided, then. Ben?"
Anger welled up in Ben, a jealous frustrated anger he had been unable to conjure all those weeks ago in the ICU. He knew the war was lost, yet he insisted on seeing the battle through. "Send him away, Barney," he said in a low voice, squeezing Alexa's hand. "Possession is nine-tenths of the law, and Alexa is with us -- with me -- tonight. He'll survive, damnit. We're going out." He turned to Alexa, not sure how she would react to this outburst. "Aren't we."
She had never seen him like this, and her mouth formed a round circle of surprise. "Yes, Ben, we are."
"Well, then," he told Barney.
"All right," Barney said. "I must go back to the kitchen. I will hold him there for another five minutes. Call Max, have him bring the limo around. Go down there, wait for me inside it with the door closed. He will leave when I leave; the glass is one-way, he won't see you in the car. And we will scurry away as fast as we can."
He turned, leaving them alone once more, and Ben took up her hand with a deep breath. "Here we go," he said, half to himself.

---

They slipped from the house, wrapping their coats tight around them, and jumped into the car without a word. Alexa pressed back against Ben, trying to keep as far away from the side window as she could, and he felt her tense as Mike and Barney left a moment later, still talking. Mike shook Barney's hand, though he still appeared apprehensive, and Barney waved him down the street, sliding into the limousine as soon as Mike's back was turned. He jumped across to the seats facing Ben and Alexa, twirling his substantial mustache absently while they laced fingers and stared at each other. Over one shoulder he told the driver, "Times Square. The Randolph Theater," and the car gently pulled away from the side of the street.
Alexa turned to him. "The Randolph?"
"Broadway, my dear. We'll be sitting center and almost up front for 'Sunset Boulevard.' My friends at the Harvard Club set me up. I certainly hope you haven't already seen it."
She shook her head. "Oh, no, I've never been to see a Broadway show."
Ben leaned over to Barney. "You mean you actually had to ask for tickets?"
Barney made a face at him. "My friend, you overestimate me. I have long since dropped out of the circles that made being twenty so much fun. I let everyone else have my space at the theater, mostly. Tonight happens to be something old HC had set up ages ago. Procuring one more ticket was not difficult. I'd expect we'd see quite a few lawyers in the room tonight."
The car fell silent as it slid down the street, and though Alexa stared through the rear window for Mike, he had already disappeared. She gazed at the carpeting on the floor of the limo, her face reddening, a mixed feeling of guilt and triumph coming over her. "What did you say to him, Barney?" she asked quietly.
Barney seemed to come out of a trance, and his eyes darted between Alexa, looking very young in her dress, almost like a child who has played with adult clothing for the first time, then to Ben, who was leaning on his elbow, staring out the window, trying to appear indifferent but still holding tightly to her, and he said, "I told him you had been staying with me. I am an old friend of the family. The Radin family, not the Page family." He paused and stared into her. "Did that man hit you, Alexa?"
She threw a glare at Ben, who turned but did not defend himself, so she turned back to Barney. "No, he didn't. I was mugged last night. Okay?"
Barney nodded sagely. "Okay."
"Is that all you told him?"
"No, it isn't. I told him you had already gone out for the evening and I couldn't guess when you'd be back. He asked...if you were all right, if you were still hurt. I told him you were feeling fine. He obviously has gone through a lot of trouble to find you, Alexa. I wonder that you could ignore him so easily."
Ben glared at him. "Whose side are you on, Barney?"
Barney looked away. "Sorry. Overstepping my bounds, I suppose."
Ben didn't reply, just squeezed Alexa's hand and lowered his eyes. She followed his gaze as his thumb massaged the back of her hand, and noticed him run his touch over her fingers, pausing briefly when he came to where she would have been wearing the ring. They looked back up at the same time and sat against their seats as one.
"You two," Barney smiled at them, "you're like a mirror and reflection."

---

He knew he'd been given the brush-off, sympathetic cup of coffee or not, and it did not make Logan happy. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel of his car, trying to puzzle out how to proceed next. When he'd been ushered out of Hoskyns's place he'd seen the limo waiting where it hadn't been just moments before, and wondered who had called it while he'd been holed up in the kitchen. The housekeeper, most likely, but Logan had felt like he'd just witnessed a very familiar two-step dressed up to look nice, and it wasn't sitting with him at all. He turned his head to the side, looking out his side-view window, and caught the limo sliding past him like a big cat on the prowl.
Without another thought, he started his motor and let one car fall between them before giving chase. It probably would lead nowhere; Hoskyns had been tuxed up for some big fancy do, but he'd also been going alone. There was a fair chance he had sent Alexa on ahead, and would be meeting up with her. And if not, it wouldn't be the first time Logan had made a fool of himself in front of the rich and powerful. He almost lost them at a traffic light, but he caught the limo pulling up in queue in front of one of the Broadway theaters. He sped past, driving around the block one more time, and parked the car down a side street, bounding back to the Randolph. Instinctively, he knew he was doing the right thing.

---

With all of the secrecy built up, Alexa half expected the sidewalk in front of the theater to be roped off with people jamming both sides of a red carpet, but when she and Barney stepped out it was just on to a normal side street of Times Square, in front of a glowing, vibrant theater. Women and men milled around outside, some with enormous furs, some with battered wool coats. Alexa had been given one of Barney's capes to drape over her shoulders ("Sorry, my dear," he'd apologized, "we tried to think of everything but women's coats are beyond me") and she didn't feel too out of place. It was less stressful than the precinct had been; at least here she didn't feel as if all eyes were on her, but then suddenly Barney leaned over to her and said, "Don't look back at the car. Ben will follow us in a minute." And he guided her into the lobby of the theater, where she tried to keep up with his pace.
Inside, by the coat check, Barney waved at a couple across the room, and they sauntered over to them once their coats had been taken. "Bonnie, Ted," he said, embracing them warmly, turning on his charm. They looked to be at least ten years older than Alexa, but edging toward Barney's end of the age scale, and Ted wore the requisite tuxedo while Bonnie had on a loose, glittering blue dress. "This is a dear friend, Alexa Radin, visiting me."
"Hello," they greeted her, nodding their heads. "Barney, we never see you any more, and then you appear with such a lovely young woman. How do you do it?"
Barney winked at them. "I have numerous friends, my dears." He turned to Alexa. "Would you like a drink, my sweet?"
She nodded. She would have agreed to anything. "Please."
"Wine, or something else?"
She had a flash, trying to remember some of Amelia's touches. "What are you drinking, Bonnie?"
"A G&T," she said. "Nothing special."
"I'll have one, too," she told Barney, and he headed to the bar, leaving her with them. She began to wonder what had happened to Ben, and caught a glimpse of him near the balcony stairs, speaking with a handsome, graying, middle-aged man. She smiled at Bonnie and Ted.
"You seem so familiar," Bonnie said suddenly. "Were you at the Garden Ball last month?"
She couldn't help it; it was a defense mechanism, and she became Amelia without even thinking twice. "Oh, no," she said haughtily. "The same old people, the same old conversations. I try to be out of town."
They nodded sagely, and Alexa felt like laughing, because even she had no idea what she was talking about. "How was the Ball?" she asked, as if she'd heard about it, and was merely humoring them.
"The same people, the same conversations," Bonnie twittered on, but Alexa noticed Ted eyeing her oddly. He was starting to recognize her. "Marjorie Abington drinking too much whiskey, that sort of thing."
Alexa laughed, and could see out of the corner of her eye the salty-haired man who had been chatting with Ben striding up to their trio. She began to panic, wondering which of the three of them he was going to recognize, fearful it would be her. Ben had disappeared again, and she felt abandoned.
"Do my eyes deceive me?" the man announced in a noisy, slightly slurred drawl as he approached, his dark brown eyes piercing into her. "Do I see Alexa Radin Page standing before me?"
She blanched, but held onto Amelia. "It may be so, but I plead ignorance of you, sir."
He thrust out a hand. "Jack McCoy. I must say, you are looking lovely tonight. A much different picture than I've had seeing you in the offices of late."
"You still have the advantage of me, Mr. McCoy," she said, keeping her handshake offensively loose. "Offices?"
"Page, Page," muttered Ted, and his eyes widened. "Not Amelia Page, from that horrific trial?"
She glared at him, as if to say keep your voice down, you ass, and he wilted under her gaze. "No. That was not me."
McCoy smiled at her, but his eyes stayed dark. "Oh, no, sir. That was her sister."
Bonnie coughed a little and, without much subtlety, said "Dear, I think we should go find our seats."
"Indeed," said Ted, but looked over his shoulder as they slid away without saying another word.
Alexa wheeled on McCoy, eyes flaring. "I don't know who you are, Jack McCoy, but you've got some fucking nerve."
He broke out in a wide grin, taking a step toward her, and she backed up against the wall, feeling threatened. "Now that's the Alexa I've heard so much about. I like when the mask comes down. You look almost human."
"Who are you?"
"Nobody special, my dear. Just another assistant DA." Her anger fell away, replaced with a vague unease. "And....funny...." he said, edging closer, to where she could feel his breath on her face. "I seem to have run into one of our mutual acquaintances this evening. Now where did Ben Stone go to?"
She swallowed. "Ben Stone? He's here?"
He laughed shortly and raised his hand up so the palm rested on the wall, much like Mike had so long ago in that dark hallway. She shrank against the wall, pinning her hands behind her. "You're a terrible liar, my dear."
"I am not your dear."
He leaned in close. "But you are lying. I have an acute interest in something. Tell me, Alexa, my dear, how many people in the general Manhattan judicial system have you not slept with?"
Claire, she thought, it had to be her, and her ire raised itself again. "I can think of one I won't be sleeping with," she parried weakly.
He laughed at her. "Don't be so sure of yourself," he said. "How many would you say?"
She felt faint.

---

He had expected to see her in the theater, but somehow Logan hadn't been prepared to see her right there, in the lobby, by the bar, and he stopped in his tracks, just in front of one of the doors. He'd spent the better part of the last twenty-four hours tracking her down, and there she was, dressed to the nines in some fancy outfit, hobnobbing as if nothing were wrong. It took him a moment to take in the rest of the scene, and as he swung open the lobby door to get a better look, it dawned on him that she was being paid a lot of very close attention by Jack McCoy. He was pinning her up against the wall, but her expression was far from playful -- she looked harassed and more than a little frightened.
And then, he thought he knew.
Mike was about to take a step toward the two of them, like a bowling ball he was going to knock the pins down and see what he was left with, but he halted, unprepared to see yet another familiar face appear, as Ben Stone stalked over to the pair.
"Come on," McCoy prodded her. "You can give me a number."
"Most likely, significantly less than three," a voice from behind McCoy came. "Which is exactly how many assistants you've managed to sleep with."
McCoy turned, facing Ben, and Alexa nearly teetered to the floor in relief. "Oh, please, Stone, spare me the hero tactics."
"Get away from her, McCoy," Ben told him, and Alexa had never seen him so angry, not even with her, not even when he'd slapped her. The two men moved dangerously close, and Alexa feared the worst.
And then, in a bright flash of mustache and gin, Barney slid over to her, planting a wet, bristly kiss on her cheek. "Deepest apologies, my love," he told her, pressing a drink in her hand. "As you requested. I was detained by some old, dear friends of my mother's at the bar." He turned to Stone and McCoy. "You wouldn't believe, eighty if they're a day, still drinking like fish. Alexa, you haven't introduced me to our surly companions."
Ben came to his senses first, catching Barney's drift, and broke his stare with McCoy, offering his hand to Barney as if they had never met. "Ben Stone. Nice to meet you."
McCoy slid a glance between them, and Alexa felt like letting out a sigh; obviously he didn't realize the two already knew one another. "Jack McCoy," he said stiffly, and turned his glance to Alexa. "My apologies," he said. "I seem to have stepped out of line. Please excuse me." And he strode out of the lobby, to the seats.
Ben started shaking his head and put his hands on his hips, while Barney burst out laughing. "Oh, my, that was a thrill ride, wasn't it!"
"I'm glad you can be so blithe," said Ben. "I don't think it's funny at all. He's a nosy ass and he thinks he knows everything. He wants my job. He really wants Adam's job. And he's obviously been listening at walls. That was too close."
Barney, who had just that moment glanced over Ben's and Alexa's heads, shifted his gaze back to their threesome and took her hand in his, squeezing it. His smile, which had been genuine at one time, now appeared plastered to his face. "Children," he said in a low tone, "look at me." They did. "Now smile." Again, they followed his orders, out of respect for the authority in his tone. "Now, whatever you do, do not turn around. Ben, shake my hand, be pleasant, and get the hell out of this lobby. Go to the toilet, go to your seat, do something, but just go."
"Barney..." Ben began, his smile fading with Alexa's. "What's going on?"
"Just do it, man. I'll tell you later."
"Should I leave? Should I go back to the limousine?"
Still smiling, Barney shook his head. "Get to your seat. That's the best idea. He can't follow you there."
"Now, Barney, I'm sure Jack has seats already...if we're hiding from him...."
"Ben, I'm telling you this for the last time. Shut up and leave."
He did as he was told, shaking Barney's hand formally, even giving Alexa a curt nod, then without a backwards glance Ben got his ticket ripped and headed in to his seat. Barney held Alexa's gaze, turning her to him and resting his finger under her chin. "My dear, Ben is one of my oldest, dearest friends. You are a sweet, if somewhat confused, little girl. I like you both, but I will always, always, do for Ben first. You cannot continue whatever it is you think you are doing. You must decide. I don't mean this instant, but I do mean tonight. Ben knows it too, but he is having a devil of a time fighting with what he knows he has to do and his libido." He leaned over her and kissed her forehead. "Your friend Logan has been staring at us for some time now." Alexa, who had been both hurt and lulled by Barney's words, started. "I do not know when he came into the lobby; he must have followed our car. It is up to you what you do now. The play will be starting soon. I would like to have you with us. I must say you've given me more excitement over the past weeks than I've seen in about ten years. But what you do next is up to you. Shall we go in?" And he offered her his elbow.
Without thinking, she gingerly fitted her hands around his bent arm, then turned and looked over her shoulder. While they had been talking, the lobby had emptied, leaving them as the sole occupants, and her eyes gravitated towards Mike, who was standing in a far corner, leaning against the wall, his eyes boring into her. Forlornly, she glanced up at Barney, who withdrew a ticket from his pocket and handed it to her. "Your choice," he said. "I don't want to miss the overture, myself."
She took the ticket and he unthreaded his arm from hers, walking to the seating area, like Ben not looking back, leaving Alexa alone with her thin cardboard ticket. Freed of outside influence, Mike strode up to her wordlessly and stopped just in front of her, scanning her up and down. "Hello."
"Hi," she echoed.
"You look...gorgeous," he said in a whispery tone.
She smiled hesitantly. "A little makeup can do wonders," she told him.
He brought his fingers up to her jaw, finding the purple underneath the foundation. "I can hardly tell where you got hurt." Mike paused. "How could you just run off like that?"
"I wasn't thinking," she told him. "I sometimes tend to act before I think."
He smiled shortly. "Funny 'bout that. I do too."
When he didn't say anything more for a time, she indicated her ticket. "Well, I think I have a play to get in to see."
"You won't come with me?"
"I didn't hear you asking," she told him, and held up a hand. "Don't bother, Mike. Or did you want to add something new to the conversation we had last night?"
Her casualness bit into him, and all of the words he'd been saving during the day vanished from his mind. So he said, "It was McCoy, wasn't it, while I was away."
"If that was all you wanted to talk about, I think we're done here," she told him, and turned to the seating area.
Logan reached out and snatched up her arm, pulling her back to him. "Stop trivializing everything. I spent the better part of today searching for you over this whole freaking city. You owe me a minute."
Torn between the absurdity of the situation and letting anger take her over, she said, "First thing, it was notÊ Jack McCoy. The man's a prick. And I have already told you that subject is notÊopen for discussion. Second thing, so you went looking for me. So what? I don't pay you by the hour. I don't owe you anything. And third thing, I believe when we last spoke the ball was in your court. Looks like it's still there."
"I don't play by your rules," he growled at her, and took her face in his hands, leaning over her and kissing her. She tried to fight the intrusion for a moment, but he took her over again and she found herself kissing him back, a warm, melting rush making her weak and unable to think beyond how close he was.
But then he pulled back just a little and she had a second to collect her emotions. "No," she told him. "You can't just kiss this all away, Mike," she told him breathlessly, taking a step back.
"I accept," he ran his hands over her shoulders, wanting to peel the dress from her right there, "everything about you," he continued, lowering his hand to her abdomen, "and I am doing my best to feel the way about everything that comes out of you. Is that good enough?"
It almost was. But she had to ask, "Why?"
She caught him off-guard. "What do you mean, 'why'? Isn't that enough?"
"It is when you felt the opposite just last night."
"I don't exactly get it," he told her. "I didn't last night, and I still don't today. But I'll risk trying to figure it out if you're willing to stay in one place, with me, while I do it. I am trying." He told her about the poster in the subway, and how he had been chewing on what she had been aiming at all that day. "You make it really hard on a person, sometimes."
He was trying. Even she didn't understand all of her motives, and hadn't until now really thought about how her adoption figured into this. But she just didn't know if it was enough.
"Can we go now?" he asked, taking up her hand.
She shook her head. "No, Mike."
"No?" he turned to her. "What more do you want from me?"
"Time," she told him. "I think we both need a little time to digest all of this. In the morning, we may both feel very different about the past few days. And, we might not. I won't go with you tonight, Mike. But I may be ready to come by tomorrow."
He looked up at her. "Who says I'll still be there?"
"Are we playing chicken now?" He didn't answer her, and she leaned over to him, kissing him on the cheek. "I guess we'll have to wait until daylight to see who blinks first, then." And she backed away from him, towards the seating area. The overture was just beginning. "Goodnight, Detective Mike."
He watched her turn away from him and leaned on the glass exit door. Mike looked up at her one more time, about to say something, then he bit it back and walked back out to Times Square.

---

She slid into her seat as the overture was waning and the lights began to dim, sliding her hand into Ben's. "Sorry," she apologized.
"You stayed," Ben said simply.
"What, and miss this play?" she teased gently, feeling somehow more lighthearted than she had all day. "Never."
"What happened out there? Barney won't tell me."
Alexa sighed and decided not to tell him just then. "I wish I knew, Ben."
Ben left a few moments before curtain, just as he did at intermission, to avoid their being spotted as part of a trio by any remaining prying eyes, and so caught Alexa in mid-bubble as she slid into the limousine with Barney. "'I'm ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille,'" she nearly swooned. "I mean, I've heard that my whole life but I never knew exactly what it related to, and it's such a tragic line, she just doesn't get it, she's completely unbalanced..."
"Never saw the movie," Barney said, indicating Alexa, who bounced into her seat next to Ben and bumped up against him.
"I never knew that was him in the pool that we saw at the beginning I guess it just flew right over my head, I totally missed it, so when she shot him at the end I was just gaping," she took a breath, "it was like watching a dream sequence or something, what do they call that, rococo design? I'm at a loss for words, really."
"I can tell," Ben told her, and she shut her mouth, embarrassed.
They drove with Alexa silenced, but only for a moment. "Thank you, Barney." But she added extra weight to the words, hoping he would understand that she was thanking him for more than just the play.
"Any time, my dear," he told her, understanding.
Ben also heard the emphasis. "What did happen that I had to run out of there so fast, you two?"
Barney gestured towards Alexa. "She'll tell you, I think."
She swallowed. "Mike saw us," she told him, "but he only saw what he wanted to -- he thinks...he thought -- that Jack McCoy was his mystery man."
"But no more," Ben wondered aloud.
"I told him the topic wasn't up for discussion. And then I told him to go home."
Ben gave her a concerned look. "Alexa, do you know what you're doing?"
She leaned her head against the seat. "No. I'm making this up as I go. But this feels right. He needs a little more time to figure out what he really wants. If it comes too easy all the time, if it comes just because he demands it, it can't mean as much."
Ben shook his head slowly; her schoolgirl naivete was always belied by these flashes of beyond-her-years maturity.
She let the subject lapse, and a few moments later asked, "Barney, how do you know Ben?"
"Law school," he answered affectionately. "We were roommates off campus at law school one semester."
"Just one?"
"Aha," said Barney wisely, "she doesn't crack about 'I didn't know caves had rooms,' Ben. I tell you, she's special."
"I know that," Ben told him.
"Anyway," said Barney to his captive audience, "just one semester. I didn't meet Ben until my last year of law school, and they kicked me out in my final semester for growing pot in my closet."
She raised her eyebrows. "And you didn't know, Ben?"
"Well...." he delayed, "let's say....no."
Barney laughed and the heavy mood in the car lifted. "Let's say bullshit!" He leaned over as Ben covered his face. "He didn't know what the buggers were, my sweet, and he couldn't figure out why I had plants in my closet. So he liberated them, and put them on the windowsill to get better light. This was just before the Christmas break. I came back and the school had been alerted, and they called me to the dean's office. I would have been arrested but....well, sometimes money does make a difference. Dunster Hall needed some repairs, and my father took care of it. But they kicked me out for the next semester, while things settled, and I finished over the summer."
Alexa couldn't stop laughing, and Ben turned red behind his hand. "Thirty years ago, and you still bring it up," he moaned.
"Because it still tells well," laughed Barney, "and because you're still the same exact straight arrow you were then, Stone! At least I brought you a little education you weren't going to get in the books."
"Like what?" Alexa prodded.
"Well," Barney continued, "we were way too early for the hippie rebellion, but my set had been dabbling for a while in pills and things, and one of my dear friends was the heir to a cheesecake fortune. So there was this one time when --"
"Enough," said Ben, covering her ears.
"All right," said Barney, sitting back. "But she's missing some good stories, I tell you."
"I took 'E' once," she offered, and they gave her odd looks.
Barney sighed. "Oh, dear. Even the drugs are younger than me now. Please, my dear, humor an old man and don't tell me about it. You'll make me wistful for missing days, road trips, and flashbacks."
The car pulled up and the driver rolled down the separator window, leaning over to Barney. "We're here, sir."
"Action!" cried Barney, and stepped out of the car, helping Alexa out next.
"Hey," she exclaimed, "I've been here before!"
"That you have," Ben said, behind her, and they entered the Rainbow Room, doors held for them all the way.

About mid-way through their meal, a maitre'd stopped at the table and spoke in low tones to Barney, who slipped him a fifty. "Thank you," he told him, and the waiter oozed away.
"What was that?" Ben asked him, cutting off another piece of his steak.
Barney smiled. "Turn around and look through the trees. Don't worry, you're completely blocked off. That's why I requested this table."
Ben and Alexa turned around and peered through the camouflaging foliage behind their booth, watching as the maitre'd gently told Jack McCoy and his female companion, who could not be seen through the foliage, that the restaurant was full and there were no more tables for the rest of the evening. Ben's eyebrows raised in delighted amazement, and Alexa covered her mouth to prevent laughter from coming out. Across the dining area they could see McCoy grow livid, probably because he had reservations, and the maitre'd simply stood there, refusing him yet again.
"I took the chance," said Barney, "that he would have gotten the discount Rainbow package, you know, buy a ticket, get a meal here for twenty dollars. He seemed like that kind of man. This place is one of my favorites but they really have catered to the hoi polloi in recent years."
"Isn't that what we're doing?" asked Alexa.
Barney gave her a mock-haughty glance. "Certainly not, my dear. We're paying top dollar for our meal. Besides, there's a standing order that a member of my clan always gets a table at the Rainbow Room. Goes back years."
Alexa smiled at him. "I like you, Barney, you're filthy rich and you don't mind letting us peons in on the joke."
"And I like you too, my dear," he told her, laying a hand over hers. "All right," he exclaimed. "Now that we have cleared the room of possible prying eyes, I certainly hope the two of you will feel free to do what you like. Anyone in this room right now is completely safe. And even if they were of the mind to gossip, there are enough bones in their closets to fill cemeteries, and they know that I know it. You're safe here, you're safe with me."
Alexa and Ben grinned at each other like children out for a sundae with Grandpa.
After their meal, Barney told Alexa, "I have rarely seen a woman your size with such an appetite. Bravo, missus."
"Funny, that's what Ben told me when we came here last," she said.
"Ah, but you outdid yourself this time," Ben added.
She paused and wondered what they were getting at. "Well, I've been hungry a lot lately. And it is midnight. Come on, guys."
"I'll ease up on one condition," Barney told her.
"Yes?"
"That you let me watch you two dance."
"Dance?"
"You hardly think I brought you to the Rainbow Room to admire the plant life, do you?"
"I think that's our cue," Ben told her, standing and offering his hand. "Will you?"
She let him lead her to the floor, where they took small steps and swayed to the music, standing close together. "Ben, this really is magic," she told him. "We've even had a dragon-slaying."
He tilted his head. "I doubt he's been slain. Just wounded a little. Don't worry, Jack McCoy will live to annoy another day."
She smiled at him. "What does he have against you?"
Ben shook his head. "Nothing I can figure out. He's just ambitious. It gets to his head. But he's a good trial lawyer."
They swayed in silence a little longer, then she said, "Ben, I'm going to miss you."
He looked away. "Come on. Don't do that to me yet."
She stared at their feet. "Ben," she said softly, "I can't do this any more. Mike doesn't deserve what I've been putting him through. I'm going back tomorrow."
He didn't reply at first, then, after a long silence, he said, "You remember," he said, "the first time we came here? And you showed me those business cards? Do you remember that?"
"Of course," she said quietly.
"You know we could have called those numbers that night. We didn't have to wait until morning, when Briscoe would have been in."
She thought back. "Yes, I know."
"You knew it at the time, too."
"I --" she paused. "I wanted to see what you would say. I had all these crazy feelings about you, and I thought they were just crazy, so I wanted to see what you'd do. And then we got drunk, and we danced, and I just said all those stupid, idiotic things, because I had such a terrible crush on you, I knew there was no way, and I was still awfully in love with Mike. Nothing made sense."
"Guess what," he told her softly. "It still doesn't."
She ran a hand down his face. "Ben, I miss you already." And she pulled him to her so he couldn't see her face. She was forcing herself not to cry, but wasn't doing very well, and blinked at the lights, then closed her eyes. Two tears squeezed themselves out and ran down the back of his jacket, and he held her tighter, sighing against her shoulder.
Barney watched them dance, and when other patrons started to head home and they were still dancing, he called the owner of the restaurant over, giving him several hundred dollars to let the restaurant empty out around them. The owner spoke to the bandleader, who said for that much extra they'd play till sunrise, if he wanted, but Barney knew that wouldn't be necessary. So he let them dance, and he drank some more, thinking to himself that while Ben would be feeling the pain of her absence for the rest of his life, at least he would be feeling. "And that," he told himself quietly, holding up his glass of scotch to the dancers, "is the reason for going after what you want."

---

"Are we there yet?" Alexa asked groggily, opening her eyes when the cold outside air hit her. She shivered and shrunk back against Ben, trying to fall back into her sleep, and he hugged her tightly, possessively.
"C'mon," he finally told her, and she opened her eyes. Ben led her to the front door as Barney told the driver he could go home. Without a word, Ben helped Alexa up to her room, where he lay her out on the bed and pulled a blanket over her, sitting on the edge of the bed for a long time, watching her sleep, tired himself but unable to close his eyes. Finally he stood and headed into his -- Barney's -- room, and stood staring out the large front window, his hands stove deep in his pockets, thinking.
He had no idea how long he stood there; even after he heard Barney shuffling around downstairs, poking in the fire he remained in place, watching the trees, and after a time a shuffling sound behind him made him turn. In the entranceway to the room stood Alexa, rubbing her face, yawning. At some point she'd taken off the dress and slid on a shirt from the spare closet, and, sans radiance from the evening, just looked sleepy, disheveled, and very young. Too young for me, in any case, he thought. At some point, all of the illusions they had constructed for themselves had slipped away, and they were starting to see each other for who they really were. Ben reached out a hand and she leaned up against him while he wrapped his arm around her. They stood there by the windows for a while, until she looked up and said, "Ben, I'm sleepy. I can't stay up much longer." She closed her eyes, still leaning against him, using him for support.
He sighed a little and smoothed down her hair, still not sure what to do. "You should probably go to sleep, then," he told her neutrally, but his voice cracked slightly on the last word. He let his arm slip away from her, and she drifted away from him, looking back uncertainly. "I'll be all right," he insisted. "Go on." And he shooed her away gently. After another long look out at the street, as if something out there might change while he waited, Ben stepped quietly to her room. She had fallen asleep again, and he sat on the bed next to her, like he had that time she had come home, after they had fought in the ICU. Again he noticed a sliver of moonlight crossing her nose, and he raised his hand to blot it out for a moment, watching her sleep in darkness. After a moment he lowered his hand, brushing some hair away from her cheek and gave her a careful goodnight kiss. Then he stood, walking out of the room, closing the door behind him, his sleep across the hall coming in draggy wisps. Just before he fell unconscious he thought, It's over.

---

In the morning when he woke she had already cleared out of the room; the dress was hanging on the hook behind the door and the belongings she had showed up in the other night, cleaned by Edina, were also gone. He splashed some water on his face and dressed, descending slowly down the stairs, unable to shake the stupor he had woken up in. Barney was alone in the dining room, reading the Sunday Times, and he folded it down as Ben entered the room. "Morning, Ben."
"Mhmm," Ben said noncommittally. "Suppose it is. What time is it?"
He shrugged. "I dunno, eleven, twelve o'clock."
"Do you happen to know...."
"She's outside, actually, sitting on the steps. I think she was waiting for you to get up. I told her she didn't have to do that, sit outside, but I think she's in the way of needing to go. Sweet girl. Said I was the most wonderful host she's ever met."
Ben folded his arms and nodded. "She's a perceptive young lady."
The front door opened a few moments later and Ben emerged with two mugs of coffee, sitting next to Alexa on the concrete steps. "The living room is better designed for this, you know," he told her.
She sipped the coffee, holding the mug with both hands. "The fresh air helps keep my mind clear. I have to go in a few minutes."
"Do I need to ask where?"
She shook her head, and stared at the steps. "I think we both know. I think we also know we can't do this any more." She glanced up at him. "I'm sorry I've made such a mess of things. I feel like I'm groping in the dark here; I sometimes just don't know what the best thing to do is."
"You may not believe this," he said, resting a hand on her shoulder, "but neither do I."
"Who, you, Ben?" she teased gently. "Now I know I've heard everything."
Ben smiled and sipped his coffee, staring across the street, thinking how quiet the neighborhood was, even for early Sunday afternoon. It was as if everything had paused for these few minutes, and would resume like an exhale of breath as soon as she left. "You realize," he began carefully, "that we can't see each other any more after this."
"Ben?"
"I mean, we're always going to risk hurting a lot of people if we try to just be friends, Alexa. I can't be there for you any more."
She put her coffee down. "I don't understand you, Ben. I thought...I meant something to you."
"Of course you do, Lexa," he told her, and took her hands in his. "But you have such a wonderful life ahead of you. You're young, you're beautiful, you are so smart, you're getting married, and one of these days you'll do something with that voice of yours. What happened between us was indescribable, it was gorgeous, but it was an aberration. You're going walk down that street today, and when you turn the corner I don't want to see you any more. It may happen accidentally, at a function, or something that Mike has to attend, but please don't invite me to your wedding. I won't come. We have to end it, or this beautiful life you're going to have isn't going to be so nice. And I don't hate you, I don't think you're repulsive, absolutely the opposite. Until last night, I never really accepted that it was going to be over. And when we got home, I stayed up very late, thinking. It hurts, but I'm willing to see you go now. I just can't keep clutching; you're like snow that melts away just when I think I get a grip. So I want you to tell me that after you leave today, this is it. No more running back to me. I don't want to not let you in. We have to make it over, today."
"Not friends," she said limply.
He shook his head. "Some people do it...I'm not that advanced. No. Not friends. Do you promise?"
Silently, tears dripped from her eyes, and she looked off to the side. "I feel like you're cutting a part out of me."
He swallowed. "You'll see. You'll never miss it. Promise."
She shook her head. "No. Never. I'm always going to know what's not there."

---

She had initially planned on taking the subway to Mike's apartment, but the notion of walking struck her, and it had within it a sense of symbolic atonement that made her feel as though with each step she took she was letting go of a part of Ben, and earning her way back to Mike. It was silly, but it was something she felt deep within her, and for the first time in a few days she laid her hands over her stomach, connecting with the baby again. By the time she had walked the forty blocks the sky had turned overcast and the air grown bitter. Her breath was coming harder, and she felt chilled, but the anticipation of seeing Mike again made her steps lighter. She wondered if he really would follow through on his last statement to her -- what if she had really made a mistake the night before in not going with him? But she didn't entertain that thought for long; she knew she had done things the way they had to be done. She ran up the steps to his apartment after her long walk, and then...he wasn't in when she knocked.
Trying not to let panic settle in her, she headed back out onto the street and decided to circle the block to see if Mike was in the neighborhood, getting coffee or lunch or something, and when she rounded the west corner she found him in a caged-off empty lot that had been refashioned into a makeshift basketball court, running around on the tar, shooting hoops. He was alone; the air had turned much colder during her walk, and as he ran around in his gray sweats his breath was coming in short, cloudy bursts. It was hard to tell how long he had been out there; any sweat he might have built up would have cooled right off. He was lost in his own head, running smoothly from one end of the court to the other, playing with invisible opponents, faking them out, dodging around and finally breaking toward the netless hoop, jumping in the air and tossing the ball, watching it satisfyingly swoop through the circle. He would catch the ball in one deft motion before it even hit the ground, and like a panther he would be off again, dodging, swooping, and carrying.
Alexa realized she had never seen him alone when he thought no one else was around, so she didn't immediately call his attention, enjoying watching him gracefully maneuver his way around the asphalt, the bouncing ball and his stomping shoes the only noises around on this laid-back, chilly November afternoon. She watched a long while, staring through the woven wires, then moved to the main gated entrance. He missed a basket just then, and the ball bounced out of his reach, slamming up against the fence and rolling right by her feet. He stopped in his tracks, still breathing heavily, and looked at her as if she were a mirage. She rested a foot on the ball. "You lose this?" she asked with a half smile.
He stepped over to her, his smile growing wider as he approached, and when he got to her he scooped her up in his arms and spun around. "You came," he said, letting her down but holding her close, and she flashed back to when they had gone dancing and how he had felt against her, solid, warm.
"I came," she agreed. "And I don't plan on leaving."
He stared into her like he had the night before. "Don't you dare."
She pressed her forehead against his and smiled. "Have you been out here long?"
"Since I woke up," he said. "Nervous energy. You know."
"So you're all worn out now."
He grinned at her, happily and adoringly, and she almost stopped breathing for a moment, she was so taken by his smile. "'Course not. Maybe I'll channel my energies somewhere else for a while."
She smiled back. "Race you," she said, and broke away, running to his apartment. In a second she heard him speeding after her, his legs much faster and longer, and she felt free and wild, going as fast as she could, flat out down the street, dodging trees and trash cans and broken sidewalks. He overtook her at the entrance to the apartment building and bounded up the stairs with her still trying to catch up behind him. He was waiting for her in front of his apartment door by the time she got there, and they both stood for a moment, winded and smiling.
And then, still breathing deeply, he nodded a little and said, "So you're all set, right? No more surprises?"
She nodded back at him. "None."
He stood back and opened his apartment door to her, but she hesitated and glanced at him, unsure at first. "After you," he motioned.
Alexa paused just a moment more, and took a cautious step in. "Okay," she said with finality. "Okay."
And Mike followed right behind her, pulling the door shut, running a hand down the back of her hair, and kissed the top of her head. "Welcome home, Alexa."

Epilogue