Two weeks' of vacation had flown by. It was Monday morning.
Bobby was at his desk when Alex arrived. She, juggling the coffee containers and the bag that held their morning sugar fix–the requisite cops' breakfast of Dunkin Donuts; he, tapping his pen on his blotter while perusing a file. To all those around them, it was like any other morning.
When they awoke that morning with arms, legs and hearts entwined, it was an agreement and promise they made to each other – to act "normal" at work, so no one would know.
It was a silly, unrealistic promise that both knew neither could keep for long. With the way Deakins kept his finger on the pulse of things and in a squad room surrounded by Detectives who were purported to be "The Best...in the World," what were the chances of success?
In the long run, their silly, secret promise didn't matter.
The promises that DID matter were the ones Bobby and Alex had made to each two weeks earlier: "to love, honor and cherish, 'til death do us part."