A/N: This is just a random oneshot I've been working on from Goren's POV. It takes place around the same time as my Mr. Monk story, but you don't have to read one to get the other. Please read and review.

4am Ramblings

It's not unusual for me to wake up at odd hours of the night completely awake and unable to go back to sleep. My mind starts moving and it won't stop. Sometimes I even wake up realizing what I missed the previous day; that little piece of evidence that makes every thing else fall together, but since this happens at four in the morning I can't really do anything about it.

When it was just me, I would go ahead to the office or sprawl the evidence across my living room floor to collect my thoughts. Now, most mornings I still get up and search for something to occupy my mind and hands with, but I'm usually not alone for long since Madison has inherited what Eames calls my "erratic sleeping habits."

Other mornings, like this one, when Eames in her oversized T-shirt has migrated to my side, I stay and I watch her, focusing on the warm streams of air that flitter through the fabric of my T-shirt.

She teases me about my watching, saying that I would have made an excellent stalker.

I learned at an early age to study people's actions, mostly out of necessity, so I could anticipate when my mom was having a bad day. It was nerve racking and at many times futile.

But this, this relaxes me.

I remember the first night I woke up and found her head resting on my chest. It was two months after we started sharing a bed, and when her eyes looked up at mine I knew she was in love with me. I could practically hear her saying, "Okay, I admit it. I'm not always as tough as I appear to be. Sometimes I just want to feel warm and safe; on occasion I may even cry, but if you tell any one I will cause you bodily harm."

I still don't know how I managed to get here and or how to explain how grateful I am for her and what she has given me. Love seems inadequate since we both know it can be said as trivial as someone asking to pass the salt, and it doesn't even to begin to encompass the things she has opened me to.
The most obvious of course is Madison, who I can probably describe my feelings for even less than those for Eames, but she has also given me the invitation into a real family.

I'm fascinated when watching the Eames clan and even more perplexed by their willingness to except me as one of their own. I study them most a family dinners, where every one is seated at the dinning room table and kids gallop between eating in the kitchen and disturbing their parents, who were hoping for an uninterrupted meal.

There is a language of old squabbles and new banter that I have yet to master, and doubt I ever will.

John and Anna generally watch their children with knowing smiles. There is a quiet understanding between the two that comes out of the years of experiences they have shared. Eames says they have gotten more affection since they've had grandchildren and even more notably after Anna's stroke a couple years ago.

Eames, her mother, and her sister have always struck me as three versions of the same woman. They all get their quick wit and looks from their mom, who is also patient and easy going, an inherited trait Eames has had to hone since meeting me. Carrie on the other hand, like her father, tends to fret over things and is generally the organizer of family functions, a duty she both berates and relishes. Her husband, David is not quiet as high strung, but competitive, which can sometimes turn a game of Trivial Pursuit into an all out cage match.

The baby Eames, Danny, is the jokester and lone firefighter in a sea of cops. His wife, Lily is surprisingly quiet, and at times seems more out of place than me. Lucas, the oldest, has always been Eames' favorite sibling. As a kid she claims to have been a shadowy nuisance who got him in trouble when he and his friends kicked her out of their playhouse, but as teenagers they found common ground and have a special understanding that the other's don't share. They are definitely the most alike of their siblings, which is maybe why Lucas and I get along so well, even becoming friends outside of just being in-laws.

Sometimes I find myself feeling guilty at these dinners because I wish what little family I had could witness these things with me. I wish my mother could see her granddaughter outside of hospital walls and share with me in the knowledge that people can be happy together despite their problems.

There is a small part of me that still has to fight back a little twinge of jealously at the comradely amongst these people. They have their long standing feuds, but when one of their own is hurt or in danger, none of those things matter.

My gratitude usually wins over my jealously, because I know no matter what may happen to Eames or myself, Madison will always have someone here to take care of her and love her.

Speaking of which, there is a small finger taping on my shoulder and I look down to find wide dark eyes and messy brown hair in front of me.

"Hey baby," I whisper.

She takes this as an invitation and begins to climb onto the edge of the bed, while I hook my arm around to steady her. She tucks her knees under her chest and leans her head against my shoulder, mimicking Eames, as she studies her mother's sleeping face.

She doesn't stay still for long, another trait for which Eames blames me, but stretches toward my ear.

"Will you do a puzzle with me?" she whispers, cupping a hand around the corner of her mouth.

She draws back and watches me intently as she waits for my answer. I smile and run a hand over her hair.

"Yes, I will do a puzzle with you."

She smiles and climbs off the bed, while I dislodge myself from Eames, who luckily, and I quote, "could sleep through a brigade of jack hammers." How I was ever able to wake her with a phone call to late night call-outs, I'll never know.

I watch her for a moment as she readjusts and burrows her nose into my pillow, before turning and picking up Madison.