Author's note: Well folks this it! The last chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed (esp. Georgie, who I believe was the first!) I hopeI continued throughout to give a good representation of Munch. I think the biggest honor I got was when people said that they actually could believe that this was Munch. I've tried to do my research.
As a disclaimer though, I must admit that I know very little about Billy Lou, only what we see of her from Homicide season 6. Since season 7 doesn't come out on dvd til June, I'm not sure if I captured her as well. Hurry up June and get here! ;>D
So I hope to write more in the future, if people continue liking what I write. I hope you enjoy this last chapter, it is long, but well worth the read! Til next time! Tschuss!

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Three men stood staring through the one-way window. Of all the people that Munch expected to be brought in from Baltimore, Billy Lou wasn't one of them. Sure, they were divorced, actually annulled, but John took it just as personally. Why he had expected the pairing to last, he wasn't sure. It was a mistake from the beginning. He had hoped that Billy Lou hadn't held any grudges, but now, watching her through the window, he wasn't sure. He just knew he had to found out.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Cragen.

"No," said Munch as he picked up the case folder and walked into the interview room. He surveyed the women quickly. She had her head down, but he could see that it wasn't from guilt, she was scared. He wanted to make her a little more scared. "Well, well, well, Billie Louise Pardine Cushman Petrosky McCoy Munch, I never expected to see you up here in the Big Apple, especially under these circumstances."

At the sound of his voice she looked up, surprised. He could see her shift a little as if she wanted to get up and run into his arms, but resisted the temptation because she wasn't sure what was going on. John felt a twinge of guilt, he had loved this women once, but this wasn't about love, it was about attempted murder, and if she knew what was going on, she'd have to face up to it.

"John! I'm so glad you're here, nobody has told me anything!" cried Billy Lou.

"Do you mean they brought you all the way up here and didn't explain what the charge was?" asked John.

"I was in the bar and two uniforms came in and put me in cuffs and said I was under arrest for the attempted murder of a New York Detective, but I was never in New York till now!"

"You really don't know why you are here?"

Billy Lou shook her head no. John looked at her again, studying her face. He took the envelopes out of the case file. "Billy Lou, do you recognize these envelopes?"

"Why sure, they're part of the practical joke!"

"Practical joke? What joke?"

"The one on you silly."

"You mean the joke that landed me in the hospital with a bullet in my shoulder?" Munch replied. He was getting a bit annoyed until he noticed Billy Lou's demeanor changed totally from a smile to a look of horror and surprise.

"The attempted murder was on you? But John, I would never…" her voice trailed off and she looked as if she wanted to cry. "You've gotta believe me!"

Her reaction was not what he expected, and yet he was relieved. He stood up and moved his chair on her side of the table, sat down, and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He looked into her eyes and knew she was telling the truth. "Tell me what happened, from the beginning."

Billy Lou explained, "A couple months ago this man walked into the bar. We hadn't seen him before, and things have been quiet, but it's not totally unusual to get strangers in a bar. So anyways, he sat down and ordered a drink and we struck up a conversation about Baltimore and the police and normal stuff. Then he asked if I knew any of the detectives that worked across the street. To which I replied that I knew most of the homicide unit because of Lewis and Bayliss and I showed him the picture of you three that we have behind the bar.

Well his eyes got real big and he said he was from New York and if I knew a John Munch, and I said of course, we were married once. And he seemed to get real excited and said that you were friends in New York, and he asked a lot of questions about you. Well by this time we had both had a couple and were kind of giddy, and he asked if I would help play a little practical joke on you. Well I didn't see the harm in it, so I agreed that he would send me the letters and I would send them back to you from different post offices in Baltimore."

"And you didn't know what was in the envelopes?" John asked.

"Didn't open on once, I swear, I thought it was all in good fun!"

"Okay Billy Lou, I believe you." John stood up and walked back into the room where Fin and Cragen stood watching.

"She didn't know that guy scammed her; she's much a victim here as I am," Munch said.

"Do you want to charge her?" questioned Cragen.

"No, let her go. She doesn't need to be a part of this anymore," replied John. Fin put a hand on John's good shoulder and they walked out to do the paperwork.

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An hour or so later, John sat at his desk finishing up the last of the paperwork on Billy Lou. He had returned and explained the whole situation to her and that she was now free to go. She expressed how sorry she was, and then left with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She had a shift at the Waterfront bar that night and she needed to get back to Baltimore. John had let her go, still wondering if he had made all the right choices in life.

Now he sat there cleaning off and reorganizing his desk. He was in the middle of this process when Stabler and Benson came back. They had a slightly victorious look about them. "You get the guy?" asked Fin.

"As good as," replied Benson. "He wasn't there but the evidence in his apartment was incrimination enough."

"You found a weapon?" questioned Fin.

"No, but we found these," said Stabler as he lifted up the evidence bag in his hand. Inside were John's missing glasses.

"Damn!" said Fin.

"I was hoping to get those back soon, now I see I'll have to wait till after trial," said a dejected Munch. He really liked those glasses better than the ones he had on now.

"That's not all," said Benson. "There were also journals he had written about his plot to get at you, along with photos, you must have really pissed this guy off."

"You would think, except I don't think I even knew the guy's name or talked to him till now," the whole thing was puzzling to Munch.

Cragen came out of his office. "Stabler, Benson a word in here please?"

Stabler and Benson headed in. Fin got up from his desk and suggested he run to get something to eat. Munch had forgot when he last ate, so he took his partner up on a free pick up. Fin left to go run to the deli across the street. Munch sat back at his desk and proceeded to read one of the journals left by Stabler and Benson. He was so engrossed in this he barely noticed the stranger who walked into the room until it was too late.

The first thing he did notice was the cool metal of the man's gun pressed behind his right ear. The sudden contact caused Munch to jump slightly in his chair. The man grabbed Munch's own gun, putting in his pants and then put his left hand on Munch's shoulder causing pain that made John cry out softly.

"Now, now Detective, we don't want to alert anyone else just yet, where's the fun in that?"

Munch couldn't see the man behind him, but knew from the voice that it was his neighbor. John scanned the room quickly, searching for a way to get the attention of the three people in Cragen's office, without risking the anger of the man behind him. This man had to be in a desperate situation to walk into a police station with a weapon and take a hostage. John didn't want to make the man nervous, he didn't think he'd live through another shooting.

At that moment, Fin walked back into the squad room. "I forgot my wallet!" he said, "how dumb can I…" his voice trailed off when he realized what he had walked into.

The man took his left arm and forced Munch out of his chair, the gun digging into the skin behind his ear, and wheeled them both around to face Fin.

"Son of a bitch!" cried Fin, unholstering his own gun. Fin's cry alerted the other three and they all came running out, weapons up. The man behind John tensed up and backed them both up against the coffee table. He was causing Munch some serious physical pain, but John gritted his teeth. At least if he was still feeling, he was still alive.

"Drop your weapon!" Benson screamed.

Cragen was close behind. "Let him go! This doesn't have to go down like this."

"Oh but it does, " the man replied. "You see for what this man did to me, we both deserve to die."

"What did he do?" asked Stabler. Munch knew that if they could keep the man talking long enough, the better the situation might get.

"Don't you see? My wife left me because of him!" the man yelled.

"They were having an affair?" questioned Cragen obviously confused. Munch was as well, he couldn't even remember what the wife looked like, let alone if they had had a conversation.

"I should be so lucky," the man spat back. "an affair would've been easy. But no, she was such a nag. 'Why can't you be more like Det. Munch? Det. Munch is such a gentleman. Det. Munch wouldn't forget to take out the trash. He can hold a steady job, what's wrong with you?' I'm so sick of hearing what a saint Det. Munch is! I wanted him to suffer like I did. He has to pay!"

John could hear the click of the safety being pulled back on the man's gun. He closed his eyes and braced himself for what would be his last moments on earth.

"Wait!" called Cragen. "Think about it, what are you going to do? Shoot a man in a police station, you'll never get away!"

There was a short pause, and then the pressure of the gun against Munch's head was released. John opened his eyes to see out of the corners what the man was doing.

"You're right," he said and raised the gun to his own head.

"No!" John screamed as he reached around and pulled back the man's arm, just as he squeezed the trigger. The bullet flew over their heads and into the wall above. The force of the gun and the shock of the noise caused both men to fall to the ground. John grabbed the gun and chucked it across the room. Benson and Stabler reached the man, forcing him on his stomach and cuffing him. "You are under arrest for the attempted murder of John Munch. You have the right to remain silent…" They took the man away.

John still lay on his back, breathing heavily, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Fin and Cragen rushed to his side and hit the floor.

"I'm alright," John said. "I'm finally alright."

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In a quiet pub, in a corner booth, far away from the station house, from work, sat John Munch with two of his friends from long ago. They had come up with Billy Lou, but now that it was over, they had sent her back alone and had stayed to have a drink with their former coworker. Kay Howard sat next to John, Meldrick Lewis across from them. They talked about former cases, former partners, about the good and bad of the job.

"We still miss you in homicide, man," said Lewis, "And more importantly, I miss you at the bar, you were always an impressive presence at the bar."

Munch looked at him skeptically. "We're not doing well at the bar, are we?"

"Just barely in the black," admitted Lewis.

"Seriously John," said Kay, "Did you ever think about coming back to Baltimore? You're experience would be helpful."

"No way, I belong here. There's too much crap that I left behind there, I can't go back," replied Munch.

"Keep working like this Munchkin, and there'll be too much crap here too, then where are you going to run?" asked Lewis.

"Let's not worry about this now, huh? We came here to cheer you up, not depress you more," Kay said, stopping the line of conversation, "That reminds me, I have something for you John." She reached down and pulled a small charm on a chain out of her pocket. "You should have this, it was Beau's, but it belongs to you now." She carefully put the object in John's hand.

Munch looked down and recognized the charm that Stan had given Beau and Kay after they had been shot together. "I can't take this, Stan wouldn't want me to have it, he didn't give me one in the first place."

"Stan ordered me to give this to you! Look nobody realized that you were much a victim of our shooting as we were. It wasn't till after that sniper scare that I realized what that jerk had done to you, and it probably wasn't easy to heal from, mental wounds are harder than physical wounds. After Beau's death, I kept this and now we all want you to have it," explained Kay.

"Not Stan," Munch replied bitterly.

"Are you kidding me!" said Lewis, "It took half of Baltimore to restrain Stan from getting on the next train when we found out you had been shot. He wanted to be here with you but his doctor's wouldn't let him. He threw the biggest hissy fit and almost tore the bar apart!"

"Stan? Really?" questioned Munch, he was starting to feel a bit better.

"The big man himself," answered Lewis.

"Take it John, you deserve it. I'm sorry you had to get shot for us to give it to you," said Kay.

"Thanks Kay," John whispered quietly. He looked down at the charm in his hand; it symbolized the patron saint of cops. A flood of emotions, including relief threatened to sweep over Munch as he looked from the charm to his buddies sitting with him. Their smiles of support were everything he needed, and he let himself do something he hadn't done in a long, long time.

He wept.

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