He wakes up first for once, lying on his back, her arm thrown across his chest. She's sleeping soundly, exhausted from their late nights and influx of work. Even today their day is crowded with meetings and suspect interviews, their schedules overlapping more than usual. Work has been utter shit lately, but at least their vacation is fast approaching.

He dreamed about it last night, Liz in a skimpy bikini, suntanning on the beach. In the dream she turned to smile at him, reaching out a hand to run down his arm.

'I'm so happy,' she said, and he kissed the back of her hand, the ring he'd bought her sparkling. He was happy too, and when he woke up he comforted himself with the thought that at least it would be reality in just over a week.

It's taken him a long time to get to this point-years. They've been together almost four years now. He should've asked her to marry him sooner, ages ago, but he was afraid he was tempting fate after his big mistake. But now he feels confident in proposing. Now he feels like he's finally made it up to her enough. He's not gonna wait any longer. He's not gonna waste any more time. They get back from Bermuda in the middle of July-they're skipping her family's Fourth of July for the first time ever-and he wants to marry her as soon as they can organize it, by the fall at the latest.

He's crazy about her. He wants to be with her forever and he's finally ready to make it official, make it legal. He's ready to have a family with her. He has no more doubts, no more fears. Nothing's gonna ruin it now.

She snuggles closer to him in her sleep, tightening her half-embrace unconsciously. She's smiling to herself and he's sure she's enjoying just the sort of dream he was earlier. Gently, so not to wake her, he rolls her onto her back. She murmurs slightly and he grins, leaning over to kiss her as he runs a hand down her side. Still moving slow, he tugs up the hem of her nightgown and feels her sharp intake of breath as he rests his hand on her abdomen.

'Mike,' she whispers, waking up, propping herself up on her elbows to look down at him. He grins up at her.

'Good morning, honey.' Before she can respond, he kisses her belly lightly, moving lower. He loves the sound of her gasp, the way she brings her hands up to rest in his hair.

'We have work,' she protests weakly, and he ignores her, spreading her legs.

'C'mon, babe, it won't do any harm to be a little late,' he says persuasively. 'Besides, the alarm hasn't gone off yet.'

It does just as he speaks and she wiggles out of his embrace to turn it off. 'We have to get up.'

'I can be quick,' he promises, grasping her hand and pulling her back to him. 'I was dreamin' about you… c'mon, Lizzie, I know you were dreamin' about me too.'

She laughs but allows him to settle between her legs. 'And how do you know that?' She reaches down between them, grasping him. He sucks in a breath and she smiles.

'The way you were breathin'... and you were smilin',' he says, his own breathing coming quicker as she squeezes lightly. He reciprocates, lowering his hand as she arches her back and gasps. 'Christ, you're turned on,' he adds in wonder, still, after four years, astonished at how much she wants him.

'Oh,' she sighs happily as he shifts his weight. She releases him, resting her hands on his chest as she looks up at him, the look on her face suddenly soft and so filled with love his heart skips a beat. 'God, Mike…' she trails off.

He's never felt like this about anyone else. She loves him, doesn't she? She wants to be with him? It's still so hard for him to believe even after four years together. It's still tough for him to say he loves her and impossible for him to express how much she means to him. He kisses her, trying to show her how much she means to him without words, and she pulls him closer, still smiling.

They have to shower quickly because by the time they're finished they're out of time. She turns on the coffee machine while he turns on the shower and as soon as they finish washing up they dress and pour coffee into to-go cups and head down to his car. They hit a lot of traffic, and he can tell that she's anxious about being late, but he enjoys the time they have together. He keeps glancing over at her and smiling. He can't wait for their vacation.

By the time they get to the precinct Van Buren is in her office with whatever ADA was sent down and the suspect is waiting in the interrogation room.

'Nice of you to show up,' his partner says.

'Sorry, there was a ton of traffic,' he says, spreading his hands in a "what can you do?" gesture. He can't supress the grin on his face and Lennie notices.

'Uh-huh,' Lennie replies skeptically, his eyes darting between the two of them. He doesn't have to look at Liz to know she's blushing. 'Liz, you want to go first? He's already been Mirandized.'

'Sure,' she says, sneaking a quick glance at him. 'Thank you.' She heads into the room, the suspect and his attorney looking up at her.

'I'm Dr. Elizabeth Olivet,' she says. 'I'm a psychologist. I'd like to ask you a few questions…'

Liz is halfway through the interview when Van Buren shows up with the ADA in tow. His heart stops when he realizes that it's Sherri West. She greets Lennie, then looks at him, surprise showing in her face. After a moment, she smiles, offers him her hand to shake, and holds it for just a moment longer than she should. He drops her hand quickly.

Van Buren says, 'I have to check in on Profaci, so I'll leave you with Logan and Briscoe, Ms. West.'

'Fine,' Sherri says, and shoots him a long, smoldering look. He looks away, back at Liz, who is completely unaware as to what's happening. Lennie, when he sees his gaze reflected in the glass, is much less oblivious. He swallows and looks down at the floor. Time ticks by. His heart is racing. Sherri is talking to Lennie and his thinks, this can't be happening. This can't be happening.

He jumps when Liz knocks on the glass, signalling the end of the interview. Sherri walks to the door before he can and opens it. Liz steps out, leaving the suspect and his attorney to confer. Lennie flips off the speaker and Liz gives them a brief summary of her conclusions.

Sherri says, 'Donnelly authorized a plea-seven and a half to fifteen.'

'Great,' Lennie says. He can't speak and he can feel Liz's gaze on him, wondering what's wrong. 'We don't have enough hard evidence for a conviction so let's hope he takes the plea. Mikey, go in with her.'

He wants to protest but he knows that Liz will know that something is wrong, knows that Lennie will know it too. He nods jerkily and heads into the room, leaning back against the wall inside the interrogation room as Sherri follows him in and takes a seat.

He's not listening to what she says, or what the perp and his lawyer say in response. He keeps glancing back at the window even though he knows he can't see Lizzie. Shit. Shit. How can this be happening?

There's a sudden surge of movement as everyone at the table stands up. The perp and his attorney head out and before he can do the same Sherri stops him.

'I suppose I'll forgive you for being late if you take me out to dinner,' she tells him, smiling seductively. His heart is racing, he wants to stop her from talking, but he doesn't know what to say. He prays that Lizzie isn't there any more, that she isn't listening. Sherri steps closer to him. 'After all, you never called me back that time you were my witness-what, two, two and a half years ago?-and we… celebrated…' she trails off and tucks her card in the pocket of his suit. 'Give me a call after we work all of this out. I look forward to seeing if you still live up to your reputation.' She pats his chest proprietarily then breezes out of the interview room.

His heart is pounding and when the door closes he moves, banging his way through the door, praying that she's not there.

But she is.

Her face is bloodless and her hands are shaking so badly he's sure she's gonna drop all her papers.

Oh, fuck, he thinks. Oh, fuck.