The bar was nearly empty. In a few minutes it would be last call. He slips into the seat next to her. He orders a drink from the bartender.

"What are you doing here?" she questions.

"I could ask you the same. Word on the street is that my former partner is here getting hammered, that she's been at it all afternoon."

"Someone lied to you," she slurs.

"Alex you're a wreck."

A song comes on. "Dance with me," she begs.

"One song," he agrees.

He helps her off the barstool. He walks closely behind her as she teeters onto the dance floor. He reaches for her. She gets as close as she can. He twirls her around the floor. She rests her head on him. When the song ends he tries to lead her off the dance floor.

"I'm not going. One more dance."

"Alex they want us to leave. They'd like to close."

"You never let me have any fun," she accuses, belligerently.

"I don't?"

"No."

"I'm sorry. I think that I should take you home. We'll discuss this when you're in a clearer state of mind."

"No I want to discuss it now."

"Alex, lower your voice."

"No. I'd like you to just listen for once."

"Ok," he nods, "What would you like to say?"

"I hate when you treat me like I can't handle myself. I did fine before I met you."

"I know. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"I wish you weren't so stubborn, and..."

"And what?"

"I wish that I wasn't your partner."

"You're not my partner anymore. It really hurts me that you feel that way."

"It shouldn't. It's a compliment."

"Really? How so?"

"If we weren't partners there wouldn't be so many rules."

"Of course not. What's your point Eames?"

"Bobby my name is Alex, or Alexandra, why do you have to call me Eames? I'm your best friend."

"I'm sorry Alex."

"I wish you listened better."

"Why?"

"Then you'd know how I feel."

"About what?"

"About you," she answers.

"What about me? Are you mad at me for all of the trouble I've caused you? All the lies I've made you tell? You're mad because I betrayed your trust."

"No. Just shut up. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? For what?"

"That you don't know."

"Know what?"

"That I'm in love with you."

"Don't be silly Alex."

"Silly you know what's silly? The other day I was at home doodling on a napkin, and I doodled my married name, your name. Like a little school girl, isn't that silly?"

"I think that I should take you home, before you say something else that you'll regret tomorrow."

"No. I won't even remember tomorrow. So I should tell you everything now."

"Everything? What else is there?"

"I wish you were my husband that would be nice. You always protect me, and... Bobby I don't feel so good."

He leads her to a nearby trash can. She pukes, and he leads her out of the bar. He carries her to her car, and drives her toward her apartment.

"Alex how much did you have to drink?"

"I don't remember. I had a shot or two."

"I've never seen you this..."

"I usually don't drink."

"Why not?"

"Because I do stupid things, that I don't remember later. Once I was at a wedding, and they served these delicious cocktails. I guess I had too many because the next day when I woke up I felt like I had been run over by a garbage truck. My friend told me that I danced on the tables."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I know everything about you. You should know more about me."

"Like what?"

"Um... what was I saying?"

He pulls up to the curb, and kills the engine. He carefully removes Alex from the passenger's seat. He carries her into the building, and waits on the elevator. When the elevator stops on her floor he carries her to her door. He unlocks the door with her keys. He carries her to her bed, and lies her down. He slips off her jacket, and shoes.

"Are you comfortable?"

"No. I'm hot," she begins to undress.

He walks out of the room. He grabs a garbage can and a trash bag. He sits it next to her bed. "Alex I'm going to stay on the couch. I wouldn't want you to fall out a window, or venture out on your own."

"I love you Bobby."

"No..."

"I do. If you stay til morning I'll tell you then."

"Why don't you try to get some rest?"

Alex ventures out of her room at noon. She finds a cup of tea waiting for her on the counter. She finds Bobby sitting on her couch reading a newspaper.

"Good morning sunshine."

"Not so loud."

"I'm sorry. Are you still hungover?"

"My head is killing me."

He gets off the couch, and goes into the kitchen with her. He takes a seat on her counter.

"Why aren't there are blankets on my bed?"

"I had to take them all."

"Why?"

"You threw up everywhere. You just kept barfing, I didn't think that it was ever going to stop."

"How much did I have to drink last night?"

"I don't know. I just made sure that you made it home safely."

"Why did you stay?"

"I didn't want you to aspirate on your own vomit or anything."

"What sort of crazy things did I say last night?"

"You don't remember?"

"Did I make you dance with me?"

"Yes. And then you proceeded to profess your love for me. That was just one crazy rambling."

"I must have had tequila."

"And then you got home and you said you were hot, so you started stripping out of your clothes. After a while I finally convinced you to put that on," he points to her ensemble.

She looks at the clothes an NYPD t-shirt.

"I'm sorry you had to witness all of that."

"Do you know how I convinced you to put that on?"

"No," she shakes her head wearily.

"I told you that your father would be home soon and he'd ground you if he found you without something other than undergarments on."

"I'm sorry."

"Alex it's ok. I just wanted to make sure that you didn't do anything stupid."

"Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"I did do something stupid, but not last night."

"What's that?"

"I should have told you before."

"Told me what before?"

"You shouldn't have had to hear it that way."

"Hear what?"

"The truth," she answers.

"And what is that?"

"I need you, I always have."

"What are you saying?"