Alright, so it's been a really long time since I've written anything, but every now and then, my shipper heart acts up on me and this is the result... If you like the story, feel free to leave a review. Also leave one if you don't like it.

Disclaimer: The credit for the title goes to the Dixie Chicks, the characters belong to FOX.

Note: This is set about four years after season 3 and doesn't take season 4 into account.

Tony Almeida stood at the window of the spacious hotel suite, cigarette in his hand, staring off into the distance. It was raining and the dark gray skies outside reflected his state of mind perfectly. Twenty minutes had passed since he had seen her again, for the first time in over three years. She'd been furious, to say the least, when she'd found out that she would have to share this very suite with him for the next three days. She'd called him everything, cursed him, scolded him for his drinking, blamed this twisted situation on him. He'd just stood there, nodded a little, hanging his head, knowing that in a way, she was right. It was his fault they couldn't look at each other anymore, couldn't have a decent conversation without yelling at each other or even force a smile in each other's presence. It wasn't his fault they had to share a hotel room, though. That had been District director Vaughn's call. Like everyone, he knew about their past, but he also knew they had, once upon a time, assured Ryan Chappelle they would never let their personal relationship get in the way of work matters. For better or worse. That'd been a time when they thought 'worse' would never come. When they'd been naive enough to believe their relationship was made for eternity. He let out a bitter laugh, thinking about how stupid it seemed now.

He took another drag and heard a keycard open the door. "Oh great" he thought as he heard muffled steps towards him. "Here we go..." Much to his surprise, he didn't get yelled at this time.

"You're smoking again?" It was more of a statement than a question. He just nodded yet again and heard her sigh. "Do you have one for me?" He still didn't say anything, but instead turned around, reached into the front pocket of his shirt and threw her the almost empty pack. She thanked him and he watched her light the cigarette and step towards the window, right beside him.

"You?" he just asked, hoping that deep down inside, she still knew what he meant.

Now it was her turn to just nod sadly. She wanted to say something, but decided against it, knowing that if she told him now when she had started smoking again, she would be vulnerable. Something she couldn't deal with now. For the next couple of days, she had to be strong, distant, maybe even cold. She couldn't let her guard down, not now, not with him. She certainly couldn't tell him that it had been seeing him in an orange jumpsuit in court had been the one thing that had driven her back to her nicotine addiction.