A/N: This idea came to me from becoming obsessed with the unit all over again. Again, spoliers for dancing lessons. Umm... no idea where this came from. I was upset and so wrote this... I guess you can all interperate it any way you want...
"Why not?" Mack asked as he lay on the bed, on his side, his head propped up on his arm, facing Bridget who was lying on the bed next to him, propped up against the pillows.
"I just…" Bridget trailed off unsure of what to say. She didn't know why she felt the way she did. Hell, she wasn't even sure how she felt. It wasn't that she hadn't thought about it. She had. But there had never really been a time in her life that seemed right. Or the right guy for that matter.
"Wow. Bridge. You're never at a loss for words," Mack said. Bridget gave him a tiny smile in response, and chose to turn away from him fiddling with her hair nervously.
When Bridget didn't respond beyond that, Mack suddenly understood that there was more to this subject than Bridget was telling. He didn't want to push her, so he decided to ask her gently about it.
"It's just… when you jumped into save Josephina. It looked so natural for you," Mack commented. "You jumped in without hesitation."
"Yeah well… she needed saving and it was my job to make sure she was safe," Bridget told him.
"But there was another reason why…" Mack sensed from the way she had said the last point.
"No one saved me," she whispered.