A/N: For all you Brenda/Flynn fans. You know who you are! This may not exactly have the outcome you were looking for, but I personally think it's very much in keeping with their characters. Enjoy- and PLEASE R&R! I do appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."

Past the Point of Rescue

"You'd better decide what you want, Brenda." Fritz's words rang in her ears, and at no time were they louder than they were tonight, when he was across the country in D.C., and she was alone in the house. It was Friday night, she had a big glass of Merlot (not her first that evening) and her satellite radio was playing. A song she hadn't heard in a while came on. It was "Past the Point of Rescue" by Hal Ketchum. She had always loved that song, but tonight, it was tearing her apart. "Do you know how much I love you? No, you don't. But I do." Oh God, it was her. There she was.

Brenda, with sudden, crystal clarity, knew what she wanted, or rather, who. Ever since that creep attacked Lieutenant Andy Flynn, she had come to realize she cared very much for him, but thought it was natural. It was the same way she felt about David Gabriel. Or Julio Sanchez. Only it wasn't. She was supposed to love her husband, but it had been a long time since Fritz had sparked the kind of fire inside her blood that she got just watching Andy walk into the murder room. She had firmly told herself this was just infatuation, but it wasn't, and now she knew it wasn't.

Just last night, she and Andy had found themselves at the same cafe after work. It hadn't been intentional, but he insisted she sit with him and he walked her out to her car. He had said good night, given her a shoulder hug and left. He had been the perfect gentleman. But she could still feel his arm around her shoulders. She could smell his cologne. It was fresh and clean and like grass, or citrus. Brenda was on the sofa and put her head in her hands. Oh God, what was she going to do? Yes, she loved Fritz, and as far as she knew, he had always been completely faithful to her. And she had been faithful, too. Tonight, her body was faithful, but her mind was distinctly adulterous.

Brenda wanted Andy with a longing she didn't even fully understand. She might not even be able to put into words exactly what she wanted from him. But she knew it involved getting naked and staying in bed well into the morning. She should not want him. She should never have fantasized about him. But there was that dream she had about Andy. Oh, she had been downright embarrassed at the time, but thinking about it now made her skin flushed – and not with embarrassment. She wanted to kiss him and touch him. Brenda thought about the scar from his knife wound. She wanted to kiss that scar and be thankful he hadn't died. She wanted to kiss every square inch of his olive skin and touch his hair and feel the strength of a man who had fought off an attacker after being stabbed. The few times she had touched Andy's hands, she had felt that strength, yes, but there was tenderness in those hands, too. She had seen it when he had been to the house and had scratched Joel's ears and rubbed him under the chin. She had no doubt those hands could set a woman on fire. Just looking at them set her on fire. She wanted his hands on her body.

And she could talk to Andy about anything. He never seemed shocked when she came up with some odd idea in the murder room. He might have told her she was a little crazy, but he said it affectionately, not rather derisively, as Fritz did. Andy didn't shock easily to start with. He might look at her, dark eyes twinkling, with that little grin, but shock? Rarely. Brenda felt Andy understood her on a basic level. She wasn't sure she completely understood him, but he fascinated her beyond reason. As much as he wore his emotions on his sleeve, there was so much about him she didn't know. But he knew everything about her. And he almost always knew exactly what she was thinking. It was a little spooky.

Brenda drained her glass and set it on the table with a thump. She turned off the radio. Might as well try to get some sleep. Maybe all this was just the result of too much wine – but Brenda didn't think so. She wondered if she was drinking to dull her feelings for Andy. But she still had to sleep. She turned the lights out, scooped Joel up in her arms and went to bed.

Something woke her. It sounded like a thump. She could still feel Joel on the bed at her feet, so it hadn't been him jumping off the bed. She slept with her bedroom door closed and locked when Fritz was away, so she had some security. She sat up in bed and listened. She heard the noise again. Oh God. Someone was in her house! And her weapon was in her car. She grabbed her cell phone and Joel and went to the bathroom and locked that door. First, who to call? Andy, of course. He was a night owl, Brenda told herself, and might still be up, or have just gone to bed. Provenza and Gabriel both went to bed with the chickens, she knew. And Mike Tao had kids. Julio wasn't home. But Andy might be awake.

She dialed his number, her heart pounding. He answered on the second ring. "Hey Chief. What's going on?"

"Andy, there's somebody in my house! Joel and I are locked in the master bathroom, but I can hear all these thumps and bumps!"

"Calm down, Chief. I'll get there as quick as I can, but call 911. The uniforms can get there faster than I can, all right?"

"O.K. But please, please hurry!"

"I'm on my way, Chief. You call 911 and stay where you are. Don't look out or anything. Just call 911."

"O.K., Andy." Brenda dialed the emergency number. One thing about being a deputy police chief: your calls got number one priority. She waited for what seemed like an eternity, there in the bathroom, the light off, trying to stay calm, but nearly fainting when she heard her bedroom doorknob start rattling. She didn't know who was out there, or how many of them there were, or what exactly they wanted. All those unknowns terrified her. She could hear voices, but couldn't distinguish what they were saying. She heard what sounded like a drill or other electric tool. What in God's name were they doing? The whirring noise continued and stopped. In horror, she heard the unmistakable soft thud as the doorknob dropped to the floor. The thieves had used an electric screwdriver to remove the screws from the doorknob and took it apart. The door opened.

Brenda could hear what sounded like two men. She thought frantically of what she could use as a weapon if they got the bathroom door open and felt for the doorknob. To her intense relief, the screws were on the inside of the door. That would slow them down considerably — maybe long enough for the uniforms to get here. She could hear them prowling around in her bedroom and thanked God she kept most of her valuables in the safe which was, ironically enough, right here in the bathroom under the vanity.

The bathroom doorknob rattled then, and Brenda put her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Fritz would pick this week to be gone, she thought furiously, irrationally. She heard them talking about what to do.

"Somebody's gotta be in there," one voice said. "You want to try to take down the door?"

"Yeah. Doors don't get locked by themselves," the other voice replied.

A shoulder (she supposed) slammed into the door and she flinched, but didn't make a sound. The only weapon she had at her disposal was a pair of heavy scissors she had used to open a package with a razor in it. She grasped the shears tightly, ready to stab whoever breached the door. The shoulder hit the door again. Where were those uniforms? Again, it hit. She could hear the door crack a bit.

Then, suddenly, the most wonderful words in the world, "LAPD! Freeze! Hands up where we can see them!" Curses filled the air and she could hear the sounds of a scuffle.

"Chief Johnson, you all right?" came the voice of an officer. She unlocked the bathroom door and peeked out. "I'm fine, officer. Thank you so much for getting here so quickly." She came out of the bathroom, glad to be in sensible pajamas. "It was a little scary there for a couple of minutes, though."

The officer nodded. He had heard about this woman, as had everyone in the department, but had never seen her. She was petite and blonde, with a pointed chin and, well, she was hot. He really wasn't expecting that. "I'm glad you're all right, ma'am," he said. "What happened?"

"I had gone to bed and something, a sound, woke me up. I sat up and listened for it, and could hear movement. So I grabbed my cell phone and locked myself in the bathroom. My bedroom door was already locked. I keep it like that when my husband is away."

"O.K., Chief," the officer said. He led her to where the suspects were cuffed. "Do you recognize either of these men?" he asked.

Brenda looked at them. Men? They were hardly out of their teens, if that! "No, officer, I don't." she said, when she heard noises in the hall.

"Where's the Chief? I'm Lieutenant Flynn from her squad!" came Andy's voice, angry. He was in the room a moment later. "You O.K., Chief?" he said.

"Yes, Lieutenant. I'm fine," Brenda answered. She was so glad to see Andy. He was there, big and solid and real, and ready to defend her.

He went to the suspects and grabbed one. "Who are these little punks, anyway?" he growled.

"No ID on them yet, Lieutenant," one of the officers answered.

Andy dragged the offender into the hall and shoved him against the wall. "Name, punk. And don't make me ask twice. I ain't in the mood."

The suspect Andy collared was the younger of the two. He wasn't even 18 yet. He thought he wasn't scared of a bunch of stupid cops – until he looked into the lieutenant's cold, black eyes. He had the feeling this guy could, and would, break him in half for no reason at all. "J-james Cole," he stammered.

"All right, Mr. Cole," Andy said, "Who's your friend?"

"Don't tell him!" the other kid yelled.

Andy increased the twist on the kid's collar. "You gonna listen to that waste of space in there?" Andy said, bringing his nose within an inch of the kid's, "Or to me? I know what I'd recommend."

"H-his name is Nat. Nat Turner."

"Fine. How old are you and how old is your friend?"

"I'm 16. Nat's 19."

Andy's face broke into a wicked grin. He loosened his hold on the kid. "That's good. You just bought yourself a ticket to juvie, which is a hell of a lot better than where Mr. Turner's headed." He shoved Cole to one of the uniformed officers. "See you guys tomorrow, sometime."

The officers led the suspects out of the house, with Turner screaming obscenities the whole way. They cleared the scene, with Andy's approval, and left. Andy watched them drive away and went back into the house.

Brenda was standing in the den, chewing her lower lip, looking lost. "Thank you," she said softly.

"You're welcome, Chief," he answered. Andy looked at Brenda. "Are you really all right?" he said, moving to stand in front of her.

"Just shook up. Joel and I stayed in the bathroom until you all came in."

"Smart move." But something about Brenda wasn't right. Something was going on with her. "What's up, Chief? You don't act like you're all right."

Brenda lifted her face to him in what was a plea for a kiss if he had ever seen one. What was with this woman? Had the fright scrambled her brains or something?

Andy was close to her. She could feel his warmth. Brenda would give her soul right now to have him take her in his arms and kiss her until she couldn't breathe. Lightly, hesitantly, Brenda touched his forearm and looked up into those beautiful chocolate eyes. How appropriate it was that his eyes reminded her of her favorite vice. "I'm fine, Andy. I'm just fine, now that you're here." Her voice was sweet, seductive.

Not many things could make Andy Flynn's jaw drop, but this did. His chief, his married superior officer, was hitting on him! Brenda slid her hand farther up his arm, under the sleeve of his T-shirt. He could feel the goosebumps raise up as she did. "Chief, I think you got pretty scared back there. I don't blame you. So you're not exactly thinking straight. O.K.?"

Brenda saw the answering fire flash in Andy's eyes, so she knew he was just trying to do the right thing, the gentlemanly thing. Bless his heart. "Not a thing's wrong with my thought process," she answered. She took the half step that closed the distance between them. Her hand on his arm migrated down, and then back up his chest to the neck of his shirt. She traced his collarbone with her thumb, and then up to the nape of his neck, where she lightly squeezed, feeling the tension there. She was nearly dizzy with the contact.

Andy knew he needed to move her hand, step away and say goodnight, but he was frozen in place. Brenda took his opposite hand and placed it on her shoulder and slipped her arm around his waist. "Right now, I'm not the chief. I'm Brenda. And right now, I'm thinking just fine. I'm just past caring. And right now, the only thing I want is for you to kiss me, and I'm willing to beg for it."

"Chief, you're a married woman," Andy croaked. "I don't do that." He wanted to kiss her. Oh, did he ever want. But he couldn't.

"Tonight, I needed someone, but my husband wasn't here for me. You were, and then it dawned on me, Andy. You always are there when I need someone. When everyone else in my life can't, or won't help me, there you are. I need you right now, Andy Flynn. Right now. Don't say no to me. Please, just kiss me and we'll work out the rest later."

"Chief, this is not a good idea," Andy answered, hanging on desperately to his control.

Brenda moved her hand that had been on his back, gently scratching the skin, down to his hip and tucked that hand into his back pocket. Andy drew in a sharp breath.

"I said tonight, it's Brenda. I know I haven't ever told you, but hon, what you do for a pair of jeans ought to be illegal. Kiss me, Andy." Her voice had turned hypnotic. "I know you want to. You know you want to. I never told you about the dream I had about you, did I? It was pretty hot. I'm real anxious to find out if the flesh and blood version can hold a candle to the dream version. But I'm betting he can."

Andy's mouth went dry. He had liked Brenda for a long while, and even found himself just a tad jealous that she had any man in her bed, let alone her husband. She attracted him on many levels. One of them was the hunch he had that in bed, with the right man, that tight control would completely dissolve and then… And here she was, offering him the golden opportunity to find that out.

Andy's eyes told Brenda exactly what was going through his mind. So she decided to give him a little more incentive. She slipped both hands underneath his shirt. She found his scar and traced it gently. "I could have lost you, Andy. And I couldn't have dealt with that. I've lost people before. But I couldn't lose you. Now, for the last time, and I am begging this go-round, kiss me. Don't walk out."

Brenda's voice, her hands on his skin, her light fragrance, her body next to his - suddenly, it was just too much. No man could possibly be expected to resist all that. Andy tipped her chin up and softly brushed her lips with his.

When she felt the touch of his mouth on hers, Brenda did, literally, go weak in the knees. So she hung on to Andy for support, bringing his mouth to hers fully, completely. She insisted on kissing him with tongues fully engaged and her hands in his hair. But Andy was equally insistent on kissing her gently, tenderly, with care and his considerable expertise. So he cupped her jaw with one of those big hands and held her where he wanted her.

Brenda didn't quite understand why, but lovemaking with Fritz, while fun and satisfying, had always been something of a duel for dominance. But with Andy, she had a feeling it just wasn't going to work that way, and that was fine with Brenda, she thought. She had always said alpha males annoyed her, but again, with Andy, the alpha male side of him was exactly what she wanted.

He couldn't believe what he was doing. Andy could not get his brain wrapped around the fact that he was kissing Brenda, holding her close and seriously contemplating taking her into that bedroom. But he was, and at this moment, it was what they both wanted. She felt warm and alive against him, and he wanted her naked and writhing in his arms. He brought one hand to the front of her top and started undoing the buttons.

Brenda gasped as she felt Andy's deft fingers dealing with the buttons. He could have pulled the top over her head, but he wasn't going to rush this. He pulled away, and holding up a finger, kicked his sneakers off. Then, he resumed unbuttoning her top. He paused again, but only to lead her to the bedroom, where he pushed her pajama top off her shoulders. He looked at her. "You're beautiful, Brenda."

"Am I?" she said, her voice quavering.

He nodded. "Yeah. You are." He raised his T-shirt and pulled it off in one swift move. The lamp on the side table was on, and Brenda could see Andy's scars. She moved to him and traced again the long one across his stomach and side.

"I was so afraid I'd lose you," she said."

"I'm tough," he answered.

"You surely are, Andy. As an old shoe," Brenda said, with a smile.

That got a wry grin – the one that always made Brenda's heart go into an irregular rhythm. He put his hands on her bare shoulders and she shivered with the contact. "So now what?" Andy said. "It's not too late to be smart, here. Although, I admit, this is enough fodder for my dreams for a year."

"Andy, it's too late for me. I've wanted you for too long to wait a second more than I have to." Brenda's voice was soft, but determined. She pressed herself to him and he closed his eyes at the feel of her breasts on his skin. Then, incredibly, she put her hand to his groin and stroked him through his jeans. "No wonder jeans look so good on you," she whispered. "In high school we'd have said you were packin' heat."

Andy laughed and took Brenda's face in his hands. You never knew what was going to come out of her mouth. He guessed that was part of the attraction. He kissed her and whispered, "Then in the spirit of the locker room, let me say you've got a nice rack."

Brenda giggled. "You always make me laugh, Andy," she said. "But thank you." She reached to undo his jeans and he slipped out of them. Brenda then slid her pajama bottoms off and went to sit on the bed. She patted the space beside her and smiled invitingly.

Andy returned the grin, but said, "Brenda, you know once this happens, there's no going back. Point of no return."

"I don't care. I'm a grown woman, Andy. Please, honey. Come and love me."

And how did he turn down that invitation? He sat down beside Brenda and took her in his arms. He kissed her softly, in spite of his body telling him he needed to move things along. "So give me some ideas here, babe. What do you like?"

"You. Use your imagination. I know it's a good one. As long as it's you, I don't care."

Andy slowly lowered her to the bed. "What changed, Brenda? When?"

"It really changed when I thought about how miserable I'd be if something had happened to you. I couldn't stand the idea." She looked at the man. His weight was on his forearms, not on her. He was looking at her with those eyes that could turn warm or deadly in a split second. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he grinned at her.

"Don't get impatient. We're not going anywhere," he said. He kissed her slowly and tenderly, turning them to their sides so he could comb his hands through her hair and feel it flowing through his fingers. He ran his hand down her side and back, making her smile with the feeling. He kissed her earlobe and neck, then down her jawline and coming back to her mouth. She kept pulling him closer, but he would not be rushed. "You gotta catch a plane or something?" he laughed as he nuzzled her neck.

Flames were licking through Brenda's blood. She felt like she was going to catch fire in real time. "I just want you, Andy," she gasped.

"And you're not used to having to wait for what you want. But tonight, sweetheart, you're waiting for a little while, at least," he said, his thumb grazing her ribcage. "And you're not teasing me into getting ahead of myself. We're both gonna get what we want, so what's your hurry?"

His words, while spoken softly, communicated clearly that he was in charge, for tonight, at least. And Brenda had told him she just wanted him, so she couldn't really complain. And finally, after what felt like an eternity, Andy was touching her breasts, feeling her arousal in her pebble-hard nipples. Brenda thought she might cry with frustration if he didn't touch her more intimately. "Would you relax, woman?" he rasped in her ear. "I know what I'm doing." And that was no lie. Everything Andy did to her spoke of his experience. He knew how to treat a woman. Why couldn't she let him? Why did she have to try to control this? She forced herself to just be, to only feel, to stop thinking about what was going to happen and to focus only on what was happening in that moment.

Andy felt her relax a little and just a bit of smug satisfaction crept into his mind. He wanted to remind her what lovemaking felt like, not just hurried sex for the pleasure of the climax. He had a feeling that's how she had been dealing with it for a long time, maybe since her first marriage fell apart. So it was time she had a man make love to her and in a way that left no doubt in her mind how it was supposed to be.

Brenda had relaxed, for a moment, at least, while Andy concentrated on just touching her skin and kissing her. His mouth was sinful. Brenda could smell the mint on his breath, and hoped her toothpaste masked the taste of all the wine she had been drinking. All the romance novels talked about kisses being intoxicating, but she had always laughed about that – until Andy kissed her. Fritz was a pretty good kisser, way better than Will Pope for sure, but Fritz wasn't even in the ballpark with Andy. Objectively, Brenda knew that had a lot to do with her feelings for Andy, but she always got the impression Fritz was kissing her the way he liked to do it, for his pleasure, and sort of hoped Brenda would come along for the ride. Andy was kissing Brenda to please her, not himself. She had heard a lot of people call Andy Flynn a selfish bastard, but in the bedroom he surely wasn't. He was all about making her feel good. And all she had to do was let him. And his mouth was so hot, but so gentle. He kissed her neck and shoulders and whispered to her how beautiful, how sexy she was.

The few times Andy had seen Brenda in say, a tank top, or a sleeveless dress, he had wicked thoughts about what it would be like to taste her skin. Not that he was alone in the feeling. A lot of the guys in the LAPD had wondered about whether Miss Atlanta was as hot as they thought she might be. But she was still a fighter. She just couldn't completely cede that control. He kissed her in the valley between her breasts and she whimpered a little, and then tried to push him over to a breast. He raised his head. "Brenda Leigh," he said, "You keep on doing that and I'm getting my cuffs out."

The very idea of Andy chaining her hands to the headboard, with his own cuffs, no less, unaccountably flooded her with heat, to the tips of her toes. "Really?" she said. "Promise?"

Andy laughed in spite of himself. "If they wouldn't cut your wrists, yeah, I would. And they would, because there's no way you wouldn't be trying to get out of them." He rolled her over to her back and pinned her down with perhaps half his weight. It was enough. "So would you please let me just make love to you? Let me remind you how good this can be?" He bent his lips to her ear. "You say you trust me, Brenda. Trust me enough to stop being in control. It's not a competition. You don't have to force me to make you feel good. I guarantee I will make you feel so good." He trailed his mouth back down her neck, and kissed the insides of both breasts, before finally taking a nipple into his mouth. As he teased it with tongue and teeth, Brenda had her hands twined in the sheets, gasping. He turned to her other breast and covered it with his mouth.

When he touched her with gentle fingers, she nearly came off the bed. He stroked her softness with that tenderness she knew was in his hands and when he slipped a finger inside her, she was almost sobbing with want.

Andy wondered if the FBI guy realized what he had in his home and in his bed. He wondered if that guy ever spent time on nothing but making his wife feel good. If not, he didn't know what he was missing. Brenda was incredibly responsive, and Andy had known it all along. So he kept up what he was doing. He could see she was going crazy, which was exactly what he wanted her to do. Her body was moist with sweat. But so was his. And he knew what he needed to do, so he guided himself gently into her body.

Brenda obviously knew what having a man inside her felt like, but when she felt Andy pressing his full length into her heat, it was just – different – somehow. It wasn't anything she could put her finger on, but it made her lock her legs around him and bring his mouth to hers. As he started a steady rhythm, she hung on to his shoulders and let him have her body, and whether he knew it or not, her heart. He was telling her what he wanted from her, that he wanted her to lose control, and finally, she did. She raked her fingernails down his back and screamed and shuddered in his arms as she climaxed, throwing Andy over the edge, as well.

Andy gathered Brenda into his arms, "gathering" being the appropriate word, Brenda thought, seeing as how she felt like there were pieces of her scattered all over the bedroom. She was still shuddering and shaking, and she could feel her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat.

"Was it worth the wait?" Andy teased.

Brenda just nodded and smiled. Andy shifted and winced. Brenda's nails weren't very short. She had really scraped his back. But was it worth the pain, he thought, all things considered? He just wasn't going to think about how he had helped her be unfaithful to her husband. He wasn't. He couldn't. For the next few hours, he was just going to live in the moment and enjoy feeling Brenda's body against his.

Brenda was so far past the point of rescue, it wasn't even funny. It was safe to say that no one had ever made her feel like Andy did. She wasn't going to think about Fritz, either. He wouldn't be home for several more days, and she was safe in Andy's arms. That's all that mattered.

Brenda woke up in a happy, golden haze. She couldn't believe she had stayed so long where she wasn't happy. She cared about Fritz, but there was no question it was over between them. She just wished she had admitted her feelings about Andy before she and Fritz ever got married. But she had now, and it was all going to work out. She turned over. Andy was awake, sitting up and checking his e-mail on his phone.

"Good morning, hon," she purred.

He looked over at her and gave her a half-smile. "Good morning."

"So what do you want to do today?" she asked.

Andy put his phone down and took off his reading glasses. "We've gotta talk, Brenda."

"About what?" No, surely he wasn't going to bring up this after their first night together!

"You know what. You're my married boss."

Brenda waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, that. Well, the boss part is no big deal."

"The married part sure is, though."

"You worry too much."

Andy rolled his eyes. He put his hands on Brenda's shoulders. "Brenda, you cannot ignore this. I can't ignore this. Until you and the FBI guy are officially split up, if that happens, this," he pointed at the bed, "can't happen again. Period."

"Oh, what are you so upset about? It's not like Fritz and I have exactly been settin' the woods on fire lately where sex is concerned."

Andy closed his eyes and shook his head. "You're acting like you're 15 and just got rid of a pesky boyfriend. One thing that keeps me sober is being honest with people, and with myself, and acting in accordance with some moral standards. Adultery is not in those standards, Brenda. You said last night you're a grown woman. Act like it."

Brenda actually stuck out her lower lip like a child. "I thought you cared about me, Andy."

"I do, Brenda. More than you know. But my sobriety comes first. And I can't stay sober and have an affair with you. If you want to cheat on your husband, that's your business. But I can't make it my business. I won't."

"So what do we do? Act like this never happened?" Those principles Brenda admired in Andy were suddenly damned inconvenient.

"At work, yeah, obviously. But you need to do some thinking about who and what you really want."

"I want you, Andy."

"You say that now, but I read something in Dear Abby once about getting in a relationship like this, and about how what you is get someone you knew was willing to be unfaithful." Andy's tone was low, but brooked no argument.

"I'd never cheat on you!" Brenda exclaimed.

"Did you tell your husband the same thing?"

"I oughta slap your face for that!"

"Go ahead. It wouldn't be the first time a woman slapped me. I'm not trying to be an ass. I'm just trying to get you to look at yourself. You need to figure out what you want." He stood up and started getting dressed.

"Don't leave me, Andy! I know what I want! You!"

He didn't reply until he had finished dressing. He sat down next to her. "Brenda, we'll talk about this again when, and only when, you've made a decision, for good, about your marriage." He paused a moment. "And gotten some counseling about your drinking. You drink a lot, Brenda. I can tell and I can pretty well guess how much. And before you say a word, wine counts. You don't have to be a bourbon drinker like me to have a problem."

Brenda's eyes filled with tears. "Andy, please, please don't leave me." It was heart rending, but Andy stood firm. He had to.

"I really do care about you, Brenda. I care enough to do what I know is right for both of us. And I'm sorry for this. I should never have done it. I did something wrong and I helped you do something wrong and I'm sorry."

"I wanted it."

"So did I, but I knew better."

Brenda looked into Andy's beautiful eyes. They were soft and kind, but there was steel behind them. How did he always know what she was thinking? Being part Irish herself, she wondered if he had what the old folks called "the sight."

"All right, go then." Now she was pissed at him. That was fine with Andy. He knew how to deal with Brenda when she was pissed at him. Still, he took her chin and kissed her tenderly.

"We will talk about this, I promise. But only when you've made some decisions." He kissed her forehead and walked out of the room.

Brenda heard his car start and pull out of the driveway. That was when she cried.