This is the first fanfic I've ever written that I haven't just tucked away. Some lunacy makes me want to share this one so I hope you'll forgive me if it's dreck. It's truly impossible for me to judge it dispassionately. It is a similar situation as when my first child was born. I thought she was the most beautiful baby in the world and all my friends raved to me about how pretty she was. Years later these same friends told me that they were relieved and amazed that she had grown into a pretty child and then into such a lovely young woman. Because when she was born they had all agreed that she was the ugliest baby they had ever seen. When I look now at her baby pictures and see her little skull misshapen into a conehead from the long labor, a thatch of dark hair standing straight up on it and her pinched, squishy little radish face. I have to admit. My friends are complete idiots.

Disclaimer - NYPD Blue, Diane, Denby, of course they are all the property of ABC and Bocho & Co. But this story, no matter how unappealing others may find it, this story is my baby.

Feedback is appreciated.

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The diner was filling quickly. Rainy mornings must be good for the restaurant business, Diane thought as she watched yet another person dash in out of the downpour. She returned to reading her paper and enjoying the cup of better than average coffee her waitress had just refilled. She didn't usually eat breakfast out but she thought she would start the day differently than usual. She wasn't on the job today. She had taken a week of vacation time for the move to her new apartment.

This was the first time she had eaten here. The diner was a small, family-run business. Like most of the other shops in the area. Conveniently enough, it was right across the street from her new apartment, and from the outside it had looked clean and inviting.

There had been only a few customers here when she had first come in. She'd sat down in a booth at the back and ordered her coffee and muffin. So far she had spent a pleasant half hour both catching up on the news and observing the people that came in the door. Some of them were greeted by name as they sat down. Their orders were taken by one or the other of the two middle aged waitresses who worked there. A familiar ritual. Both parties had probably done the same the day before and the day before that. These were the regulars, a couple of them didn't even have to order. A cup of coffee was set before them as they sat down and their breakfast appeared a few moments later as if by magic.

Diane liked it here. She felt comfortable. It was just a diner. Not a fake retro coffee house where you were served by 20 somethings on the cutting edge of pretentious. Yeah, this move was going to work out fine.

Diane thought happily of her new apartment. An old brownstone. Cream colored wood trim and a dark blue front door. A small shade tree growing in front of the building. Lots of windows and light and a beautiful birdseye maple floor. Her things fit in the place like they belonged. After most of a week unpacking and arranging it looked like she had always lived there.

Her decision to move out of the home she'd shared with Bobby had been the right thing to do. It hadn't been easy, she had wrestled with the idea for more than a year. But in the end it was necessary. She was sure of that now.

The diner's door opened again and three people came in shaking the rain from themselves. Two of them, a young couple, went directly to a booth. The third was a man wearing a green hooded rain jacket, his face obscured by the hood. He turned away from her and took it off, affording her a view of his denim clad backside. A dark blue shirt stretched across his back and tucked into his trim waist. His thick dark hair hung well past his collar as he reached to hang up his jacket.

"Nice ass" Diane thought, surprising herself. She hadn't ogled a man in she wasn't sure how long. She silently laughed at herself and enjoyed the view.

As the man turned toward the counter, Diane heard her waitress greet him. "Morning Harry."

In a state of astonished disbelief Diane watched Harry Denby smile, take a seat at the counter and say "And a good morning to you too, Rose."

Harry Denby. Harry Denby. So…what, in some past life she must have been an ax murderer or something to deserve this? Harry Denby. In her new neighborhood. As these thoughts rushed through her mind Diane was vaguely aware that her mouth was hanging open. She closed her jaw and as usual when taken by surprise, let the cop in her take over, and assess the situation. The stool next to Denby was empty so Diane had a clear view of him. He looked like he hadn't shaved in a couple of days and his hair hadn't been cut in weeks. But his clothes were spotless and pressed and his too long hair looked shiny and clean.

With a jolt she realized that if she could see him then he could easily turn and see her. Christ, that was the last thing she wanted. He would be sure to come over. She didn't want to waste any more time on a prick like Harry Denby. She'd let him get to her once, she wasn't going to let that happen again. No matter how well he filled out a pair of jeans. She raised her paper higher and peered over the top of it. It had been what? Almost two years since she'd last seen him?

It had been in court. He'd given his testimony about the so called undercover job he'd been on. Diane hadn't been surprised that he wasn't even cross examined by Don's defense attorney. Don's lawyer may not have been Johnny Cochran but he seemed to understand that making Denby look bad could only make Don look worse. Besides, no one wanted to see a cop go to prison. Even a cop who had screwed up as badly as Denby had. So Denby had his hand slapped by the judge and was handed back to the job.

He had looked terrible. Even in his nicely cut suit. His skin was sallow and he looked like he hadn't slept for days. He'd tried to hide it but Diane could see the tremors in his hands. Afterwards when Denby had tried to speak to her, she had told him to go to hell and then walked away. That was the last she saw of him.

She heard that he had resigned from the force the very next day and just dropped out of sight. She had figured he was off somewhere drinking himself to death. Small loss.

Now here he was. The suit was gone and he needed a haircut and shave but...he looked OK. He didn't appear hung over, strung out or high. Diane took a slow, deep breath.

The waitress had taken his order and he was talking to the cook through the window to the kitchen. She hated to admit it but he looked good. Even with the 5 o'clock shadow. Too damn good for her comfort. She retreated back behind her paper and swore impressively.

"Excuse me?"

Diane's waitress was standing in front of her holding a pot of coffee.

"Is there is something wrong with your coffee? If there is you can just tell me and I'll get you a new cup. You don't have to talk like that," she said looking offended.

Diane mentally kicked herself. She hadn't meant to actually say the words aloud. Seeing Denby must have shaken her up more than she realized. She said "Oh no, no I'm sorry. It's umm, it was something I read in the paper. It upset me, that's all."

"That's no excuse for profanity. We're a nice, family establishment. We don't allow swearing in here."

"Look, I said I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Annoyance had slipped into Diane's voice.

"Don't you take that tone with me," the waitress said, her voice louder now.

Oh...great, Diane thought. She really needed to soothe this woman's feelings before they drew everyones, all right someones, attention.

A mans hand appeared on Rose's shoulder.

Too late.

Then the rest of Denby materialized next to the irate waitress.

If he was surprised to see Diane he didn't let on. Instead he concentrated all his attention on Rose. Bending his knees slightly to bring himself eye level with the much shorter woman. "Come on Rosie, everyone slips up now and then. I remember a few choice words you let fly after you slipped and dropped all those plates last week." Denby gave her a wicked smile. "You were very descriptive. I nearly blushed."

Rose was the one blushing now. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Besides, I happen to know this lovely lady and I can attest that she is of impeccable character and not at all prone to foul language."

The waitress looked adoringly at Denby and said "Oh well, I guess when you put it that way. We're all only human after all." She turned her attention to Diane and smiled warmly. "I'm sorry if I overreacted. Besides, if Harry vouches for you, well then that's good enough for me."

Diane sat speechless while Rose refilled her cup and left.

Denby stayed, eyes cast downward, as if studying his shoes.

Then he looked back up with a sheepish smile, and brown eyes met green.

Diane found her voice. "Your friend doesn't know you very well, does she?"

"A fact for which I am daily grateful," he said. Then he became serious. "Hello Diane."

"Denby."

Another smile softened his face. "You look…words fail me. And we both know how seldom that happens."

"Not often enough. You need a shave and a haircut," she replied.

Denby grinned and ran his hand over his jaw.

Diane didn't like the way something deep inside her reacted to that.

"Ahh, Diane you haven't changed. Perceptive as ever. But then you always could lay bare my failings. I confess. Like a disenchanted housewife, I've let myself go."

Abruptly Diane opened her purse and took the money for her check out of her billfold. "I'm leaving." She left the tip on the table and stood to leave.

She was standing a few feet from him now, not exactly eye to eye but looking up into his face. She knew now without a doubt that he was clean. His eyes were clear, his skin looked healthy. Oddly, he seemed taller and more muscular than she remembered him being. Only the look in his eyes was the same. Yet not quite the same. The despair she had seen in them before was gone. Still, there was something familiar there. Something that had always made her uneasy.

At the counter Rose deposited a plate and called "Harry, come eat while it's hot."

"Do yourself a favor, Denby, and go eat your breakfast before your eggs get cold. This conversation is over."

Denby nodded his head a few times. He gave her a long look, as if drinking in the sight of her and then tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows said…"'Of all the gin joints…' Does that resonate Diane?"

"You're no Humphrey Bogart, Denby."

There was that grin again. Damn.

"It should come as no great surprise to you Diane, when I respond to that accurate assessment with, neither was he."

She moved to go around him and he reached out and touched her arm. His expression was remorseful, and he said, "Look. I know this isn't the time or place, there probably never will be a time and place, but I have changed, Diane. I'm not the same guy you knew then."

Anger, cold fury, rose in her. She pulled away from his touch and crossed her arms protectively, her voice unintentionally rising. "I'm sure Jill Kirkendall will be so happy to hear that. Harry Denby has reformed. You really think that changes anything? All the damage you've done? The lives you ruined? You haven't changed Harry. You're still the same self absorbed bastard you were then."

She pushed past him. The other diners were turned toward them watching silently, their faces becoming a blur through the tears that she would be damned if she shed. She handed her money to the cashier and walked out the door.

Harry just stood there looking after her.

Rose's voice broke the stillness. "Jesus Harry. What in hell did you do to her?"