For tremblingmoon, because she insisted.

* * *

The mask over her face blocked her vision, and her eyes were blurry. She panicked, jerking her head to see something else other than the bright light above her face, and the metallic filaments inside the bulb.

"It's okay, Miss Cabot," a calm, female voice said. "You've been shot."

Alex tried to ask a question, tried to ask, "Where's the shooter?" The mask blocked her words. Someone pulled it off her face, and she gasped.

"You're in the hospital." A male voice, this time, one she recognized. "You're safe."

She turned her head toward the voice, slowly, subduing the dizziness. The blurry shape of Agent Hammond came into view. "You passed out in the ambulance."

"I don't..." She coughed, and had to wet her lips. "I don't remember."

"What do you remember?"

"Dinner. With Olivia... and Elliot. And..." Alex stopped speaking, but she remembered, too, fear. Someone had been afraid.

"They removed the bullet. It hit a secondary artery in your shoulder, and you lost a lot of blood. But it's not safe here. You can't stay in the hospital."

She struggled to sit up, but she couldn't move. Not yet. The drugs kept her sluggish. But she felt no pain. She wouldn't have even been able to tell Hammond which shoulder had gotten hit, except she could feel the pressure of a bandage against her numb skin. Her writing arm. She closed her fist.

"You can't stay," Hammond repeated.

Alex closed her eyes. "I know where to go."

* * *

She walked determinedly toward the brownstone, trying to ignore the protestations Hammond was making behind her. "Let us take you to a hotel. It's safer."

Alex stopped on the stoop and turned around. She was taller than him in this position, and leaned over him, glowering. "You'd never heard of her before I mentioned the name."

"Yes, but--"

"You did a background check on me. My friends. My co-workers. My mother."

"Yes, but--"

"If you, with all your powerful federal government resources, couldn't find her, how will the drug lords?"

"She's a prosecutor--"

"There are thousands of us."

Hammond sighed.

Alex straightened up.

Hammond crossed his arms.

Alex rang the doorbell. Even getting this far, she'd had to switch cars three times. Hammond told her he'd pre-arranged the meeting places by using hand-written notes, since cell phones could be cloned, and this bit of information scared her more than getting shot. Her arm had starting hurting, at first a tingling sensation at her shoulder, and then shooting pains through her neck and arm, until she'd succumbed and taken two more pills. Now she was weak and unfocused again, and had to squint at the woman who opened the door dressed in a satin bathrobe and studying her with dark eyes. "Alex?"

"Hi, Tracey..." Alex felt a wave of dizziness, and reached out her hand to lean against the brick. She inhaled through her nose, fighting a surge of nausea, and said, while speaking to the wall, "I need a place to stay... Just for a few nights."

"You?"

Alex looked up to see Tracey narrow her eyes at Hammond. "Just me," she said.

"Now, wait, Alex--" Hammond stepped forward.

"Just. Me."

Tracey stepped back through the doorway, and made the entrance wider. "Come in."

Alex went inside, and slammed the door shut in Hammond's face. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"No, no." Tracey turned around, and tried to take Alex's suitcase from her, but Alex clung to it, feeling an irrational rush of fear. She bit her lip as Tracey stepped away, and said, "Tea?"

"Yes."

"Sit down." Tracey moved into the kitchen.

Alex settled into an easy chair, setting the suitcase on the floor so it rested on her leg, and readjusting her sling. She looked around at Tracey's living room. Framed pictures, standard furniture, and knick-knacks filled her gaze, and beyond those things, bookcases lined with legal texts and paperbacks. All perfectly normal. Alex hadn't felt normal in... had it only been eight hours?

Her hands were shaking, and she knew she was losing control of herself. The jolt back to mundaneness after being shot, after being dead, was overwhelming. She buried her face in her hands and wept. Hot tears squeezed through her fingers. Her back heaved. She gasped for air, and then choked it back out as another sob overtook her. Footsteps approached, and then Tracey's hand was touching her hair. She jerked away.

"I've been shot," she mumbled, when she was exhausted from crying and her throat was dry.

Tracey covered her hands, tugged them gently down. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I guess." Alex lifted her head, and laughed. She looked around the living room again, thinking it didn't seem so scary this time. "I don't know what I'm doing here."

"Then I guess you won't be able to explain it to me," Tracey said, and chuckled.

Alex closed her eyes at the throaty sound. She remembered what it had been like to hear that husky, alto voice against her ear. She tried to remember why it had been only once. "I always expected to see you again," she said, opening her eyes. "But I never did."

"I had your number, too." Tracey was still holding Alex's hands, and her long fingers massaged slowly as she spoke. "I guess we both got what we needed."

Alex smiled, the panic and guilt easing out of her and leaving her limp. "What time is it?"

"Four A.M."

"Oh god."

"It's okay. I'd have been up in an hour anyway. And how exciting, to have a bedraggled, wounded lover show up my door. A story I can..." Tracey caught the look on Alex's face. "...never tell anyone."

"Well...Not for a long time." Alex exhaled. Her eyes filled with tears again. She shook herself. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"No..." Tracey frowned slightly. "Not really. I mean, I could be, in the future. I'm kind of in limbo."

"Limbo," Alex echoed.

"What about you?" Tracey let go of Alex's hands and sat up in the chair across from her.

Alex flexed her wrists and reached for the cup of tea that had appeared on the coffee table. "No, I guess I'm not anymore."

Tracey looked toward the window. "That man... witness protection?"

"I think so. Smart of you to figure that out." Alex struggled to keep her mind from visiting the scattered memories of the last few hours. She blinked away the image of Olivia's stricken face. "I... Congratulations on your promotion. I heard." Alex managed to smile.

Tracey chuckled. "Yes, I only have to share my office with my assistant A.D.A. now. And you? Surely chasing drug lords came with some sort of status?"

Alex shifted lazily in her chair. "Absolutely. Still no interns. But I do have clerks."

"Clerks." Tracey leaned over and patted Alex's knee. "Quite an accomplishment."

"Yes. Another step closer to judgeship." Alex closed her eyes. "God. I..." Her melancholy was interrupted by a yawn, and she blushed as she struggled to close her mouth, hearing Tracey stand.

"Come to bed."

"No, I'm fine on the couch..." Alex opened her eyes and saw Tracey standing over her. Tracey's face, bare of make-up, was shadowed with wrinkles and lines, and her tired eyes met Alex's gaze. Alex remembered her being all angles and intensity, and suddenly, inappropriately, craved her again. She wondered if it were the drugs, wondered if it was shock, wondered if she should really be asleep, but let Tracey tug her to her feet, and lead her up the narrow staircase and to the bedroom.

Inside, Alex struggled with her sling, but Tracey's hand on her good shoulder stopped her. "Let me."

"Don't hurt me."

Tracey's hands stilled at the words. She'd been reaching for the top button of Alex's shirt. "You're so young," she said.

"I'm not--"

"No, you are," Tracey insisted as she unbuttoned Alex's shirt and carefully, slowly eased each arm out of the fabric. "This is supposed to happen to people who have contributed what they have, already. Who have tougher skins. Who no one will miss--"

"Tracey."

Tracey stopped speaking as Alex placed her fingers on Tracey's lips. "I don't want to talk about it," Alex said, and leaned down, replacing her fingers with her mouth, kissing Tracey softly so that all Tracey could do was concede. Tracey opened her mouth to Alex, accepting her tongue. She slid her hands down Alex's sides, to the waist of her jeans, and pulled Alex closer.

Even injured, Alex felt powerful as she leaned into the smaller woman, possessing her mouth. She felt Tracey pushing down her pants, and gingerly wriggled her legs free, one at a time, using Tracey for support. The bedcovers were already disheveled, and Alex followed Tracey, predatory, as Tracey pushed off the straps of her nightgown so that the satin fell off her body and slipped into bed.

Alex growled, and then nearly fainted as she tried to kneel on the bed. The sudden shift in direction caused her ears to ring. "No center of gravity," she said, gasping, and Tracey, laughing, guided her into bed.

"The drugs, Alex," Tracey said, between kisses against her mouth, "Might make it hard for you to..."

Alex smiled. "If I fall asleep... Don't take it as an insult."

"I'm a secure woman," Tracey said, and pressed a kiss to Alex's throat, careful to stay on the side of her neck that hadn't been injured.

Alex groaned softly and used her good arm to pull Tracey down on top of her, reveling in the sensation of the wiry, soft frame against her body. Tracey was all heat and desire. Alex could only grasp at her back, feel the muscles shifting under skin, as Tracey had her way with her. The touches Tracey gave her were comforting as well as arousing, even as out of control as she'd been all night, as out of control as she'd been the first night with Tracey, she felt safe. "This is why I needed to come, Agent Hammond," she thought to herself.

"Hm?" Alex felt Tracey's hot breath against her nipple with the word, and realize she'd spoken aloud.

"I needed this," she rephrased, and slid her hand up, cupping the back of Tracey's neck, and then entangling fingers in dark curls, to make her point. Tracey's lips enclosed her nipple, and Alex felt herself melting against the soft heat. She closed her eyes.

Tracey's hand moved between their bodies and parted her legs. Alex gasped as Tracey folded her. She tried arching her back so that her hips would bring more contact with Tracey's working fingers, but she couldn't quite move, so she settled for purring against Tracey's ear, "That's nice..."

Then she saw white.

* * *

Pain woke Alex. She looked around wildly, and saw her pills sitting on the bedside table, next to a glass of water. Fighting the agony in her neck and back, she sat up and swallowed two, gulped down the entire glass of water, and fell back into bed. The alarm clock recorded a half an hour before the pain subsided, and the need for the bathroom drove her out of bed.

She managed to get one arm into the terrycloth robe hanging over the bathroom door, and looped it at the waist, so that it covered most of her, enough to get her downstairs, where she found Tracey in the kitchen, sitting at a stool at the chopping block, reading the paper. "Good morning," she called.

Tracey looked over her shoulder and smiled. "Good morning. There's coffee. I wasn't sure when you were going to be awake." She lowered the paper.

Alex made her way to the coffee machine and managed, one-handed, to pour herself a mug.

"I called and told them I'd be late. I told Kelly to pretend I was actually there. Luckily, I didn't have court. That man came by..."

Alex turned around and raised her eyebrow.

Tracey gave her a half-smile and a shrug. "He said that I had to pretend everything was normal. And that you'd be gone by the time I got back. And..."

"And what?" Alex pushed off the counter.

Tracey looked back at the newspaper. "Your funeral's tomorrow."

Alex nearly dropped the mug. She scrambled to see the newspaper. Tracey was reading the Post. Alex was there, the second story on the front page, a small file photo of her staring back at her. "I'm dead."

"Yes." Tracey folded her hands. "How does it feel?"

Alex chuckled. She set down the mug and looked sideways, still standing, at Tracey. "Not how I expected."

"Not heaven, then?"

"Or hell. Not really. Tracey... I'm sorry about last night."

Tracey stood, taking her own empty coffee cup to the sink. "Probably not very wise on my part. Seducing a shot, dead girl."

"Still. I... I owe you more than that."

Tracey turned around, her back against the sink, and chuckled. "Maybe we're just destined for one-night stands."

"We didn't finish." Alex approached her, reaching out her good hand, so that Tracey met it, and squeezed her fingers, a moment before their lips met. Alex used her height to pin Tracey against the sink, and sighed as her tongue found Tracey willing and musky from coffee. Tracey was wearing the loose satin robe from the night before, and Alex parted it easily, freeing her hand to touch Tracey's thin form.

Tracey moaned against her mouth and bit at her lips, wrapping her arms around Alex's neck to hold herself up. Alex's hand dipped between Tracey's legs and found her wet. "God," Tracey moaned, and as Alex sank down to her knees, carefully balancing herself with Tracey's hands on her shoulders, Tracey managed to say, "Maybe you shouldn't..."

Alex pressed a kiss to Tracey's belly. "I don't know when... If I'll ever be able to..."

Tracey was silent in response, and then gasped when Alex's tongue worked its way through trimmed curls to stroke her wet skin. Alex reveled in the taste, in the heat, in the way Tracey's thighs shifted against her, and tried not to think that this was the last time she'd be able to touch someone this intimately for a long time. She found Tracey's clitoris with her tongue, and lapped at it, and then pushed further, exploring Tracey, wishing that she had two good arms, because the one she had was holding her up, and she wanted to be inside Tracey.

Tracey's cries of pleasure above her drove her on. Alex knew that with her lips, she could draw from Tracey any sound she wanted, could probably make her beg. She liked the power, liked feeling like her old self again, and wish she could have told Hammond, "This is why I came here." Tracey came, bucking helplessly against her mouth, and Alex continued working her, feeling the slickness coating her cheeks, wanting the taste to stay on her lips for as long as she was in purgatory.

"Alex..." Tracey murmured, and Alex could hear the breathlessness in her voice. She straightened, and it took her almost a minute to stand up properly, in order to meet Tracey's eyes when she smiled.

"You know," Alex said, "Good things come in threes. This is only the second time. There'll be..."

Tracey, older than she was, stronger than she was, gave her a pitying look, her worn face crinkled into sadness, and she stepped forward, wrapping one arm around Alex's good shoulder, and slipping the other around her waist. Alex hugged her back, and closed her eyes. She didn't cry, but she gave into the human contact, and took what she could. "I'll miss you," she said, her voice hoarse in her throat, but what she really meant to say was, "I'll miss New York."