“Excellent, woman after my own heart.”

~Conviction~

            “Miss Cabot?”  Zeva, one of the many talented legal secretaries that helped run the office, said from the door.

            “Yes, Zeva?”  Answered Alex, looking up with a tired sigh.

            “There is a woman downstairs in the lobby?  She said…,” a pause and Alex removed her glasses, rubbing her sea colored eyes.  “She said that she’d have come up, if she thought you wanted to see her, but won’t give me her name.”

            A long sigh from Alex, she didn’t need anyone playing games with her, “If this woman, doesn’t want to make the trek upstairs to see me, then so be it.  I don’t have time for games, and I certainly am not going down there for nothing.”

            “Yes, Ma’am.”  Zeva left the room, the door ajar.  Alex forgot all about the mysterious visitor, until 30 minutes later.

            “At least there was an elevator,” came a voice from the door, and Alex looked up.  Jaw slowly descending in astonishment, she gradually stood from the chair.  Hands at her side, unsure as what to say, or how to act. 

            “Storm,” was all that Alex could manage at the sight of the woman.  The stammering response made her stomach drop, because Alex had been sure that she’d never see this woman again. 

            “Ah, it’s not Bree any more?”  Sabrina ‘Bree’ Storm asked the Bureau Chief.  Alex blinked her eyes, fighting back the tears.  Bree still looked battered, tired and was using a cane to get around.  The gash that had bled for hours was still evident on her forehead, her long dark blonde hair covered it.  Luminous hazel eyes still as alert as always, six months later, and Bree still looked to be recovering from her wounds.  Bree swung the cane, “I’ll leave.”  Bree suddenly announced.

            “No,” barked Alex, loud enough for a few of the ADA’s in the outer office to look at the doorway that lead to BC Alex Cabot’s office.  “Please, don’t go.  I didn’t know you were awake.  No one told me.  Last I heard you were in a coma…”

            “You left to quick.  I woke up about three days after you left, thought I was dead huh?”  Bree asked, pushing her hair behind her ear.  “I wasn’t.  Going to take more than six measly bullets to put an end to this girls life.”

            “I – it was too hard to stay.  I had the chance to come back to my life.” 

            “All because of little ole me, I did kill the man that was after you.  I just—” Bree stopped, “didn’t know if you wanted to see me, here.  I thought it would be weird.  Wanted you to know I was alive, I was well, kicking up a storm—” Alex laughed at the joke, and Bree finally smiled.

            “Can’t go back to work, can you?  Not with the leg?” regret in Alex’s voice, and Bree shrugged off the question.

            “No, my days as a US Marshal are over, Alex.  That’s okay, you’re safe and sound.  That was my job.”

            “Alex?”  Jim Steele asked from behind Bree, who turned, giving Jim the once over, and smiled.  Jim stopped short, “Hello, I’m ADA James Steele.”  He extended his hand.

            “I’m just going,” Bree said with a smile, raising the cane in a goodbye to Alex, “Be safe Al.”  Bree turned on her good leg, limping out of the office, Alex watching with a longing.  Jim stepped into her office, turning and giving Alex an odd look.

            “Who was that?” the tone of Jim’s voice brought Alex back to reality.

            “No one…,” said Alex, “just someone from the past.  What did you need, Steele?”  At that, Alex saw Bree Storm disappearing into the elevator.  Alex got back to work, trying to put the sight of Bree out of her head.  It wasn’t working.