Bobby POV

"I'm telling you, this guy was beating off…" Hannah began, and then he paused as an officer handed him a report.

I caught a glimpse of Alex's face out of the corner of my eye.

And she looked like it was taking every ounce of her self-control not to laugh.

"Women," the captain said at last, looking up from the piece of paper. "With a stick. I mean seriously…this guy was as horny as a three-balled tomcat. How the hell are we supposed to narrow down the suspect pool when it's filled with ax-wielding, bikini-clad models?"

Our victim, a photographer for a magazine that tried to compete with Sports Illustrated, but was really more along the lines of Hustler, had apparently slept with most of the models he'd worked with, all on the side of course.

"I don't think we're worried about the ones carrying axes," Alex pointed out sarcastically, subtly making fun of his inaccurate description and still working hard to hold back a chuckle. "Just grudges."

"Yeah, right," he said with a dismissive wave. "Because the vic was shot. But with a damn Ruger Super Blackhawk. What woman picks a weapon that size? It's ten and a half inches long!"

Alex raised her eyebrow at him and he added, "No offense, Eames. I'm sure you don't have any trouble making something that big work for you, but you're the exception, not the rule. Don't you think, Goren?"

"Um…I think that...um…the weapon was probably chosen out of convenience," I stated, working to find my rhythm in spite of our boss' obliviousness to our amusement.

"Right," Alex agreed, nodding her head at my assertion. "Our killer didn't go out and buy it. We've checked into all recent purchases of Blackhawks. Most likely, it was already in the home."

"Which makes me lean toward the assumption that the killer is married, or at least living with someone," I said. "And the gun belonged to her significant other."

And then because it was nearly midnight and we'd been working for sixteen hours straight, and we were long overdue for a break, I smiled at Alex and added, "Like you pointed out, Captain. Ten and a half inches is too much for most women to handle."

Alex nearly spit out her coffee, and then she started choking and coughing and had to excuse herself.

"She alright?" Hannah said vaguely as he watched her hurry down the hall.

"Must have just gone down the wrong pipe," I said. "So, scorned mistress wants payback…"

"Most likely. You're going to have a lot of models to interview to find out which one was pissed off enough to jump off the money train."

"You mean we," I corrected.

He looked at me in question, and I added, "We have a lot of models to interview."

"Yeah, well, not tonight. Rome wasn't built in a day, you know, so let's just call it quits. I'll see you bright and early."

He slapped me on the shoulder and then headed for his office, so I went over and grabbed my binder from my desk and then wandered toward the elevator.

Alex came out of the bathroom just as I passed.

"I can't believe you said that," she said quietly, her smirk still firmly in place. "It's bad enough when Hannah does it, but at least he doesn't know what he's doing. You…you did that on purpose."

"You're being generous if you think I was being dirty," I said, keeping my voice near a whisper.

Her eyes dropped briefly to the general vicinity of the area in question.

"And you're being humble in hopes I'll presume you're innocent," she fired back.

I felt the stirrings of anticipation just from the way she was looking at me.

Of course, I've been feeling that for most of the day, although I was also pleased with our ability to stay focused on work.

Well, until about ten minutes ago, anyway.

I smiled at her and shrugged and then pushed the down button on the elevator.

"He's sending us home," I told her. "I'll meet you in the car."

The last part was said more like a question than a statement.

I mean, I was pretty sure we were leaving together, but I didn't want to come across as being cocky about it.

"You think I'm going to take you home?" she asked.

And I'm really glad I know her as well as I do, because if I didn't, I might not have picked up on the fact that she was playing with me.

"I think I'm going to take you to my home," I corrected after doing a speedy glance around the area to make sure no one was nearby.

"You're not driving," she said with a shake of her head.

"We're done working," I pointed out.

"Hey, Eames!" Hannah called out. "Give me a minute?"

I stepped onto the elevator and she flashed me a look that said I'll be right there, and then she went back in the squad room to meet up with the captain.

I went down to the parking garage and got into the driver's seat of the SUV. I didn't really care whether I drove or not, but it seemed to keep the lines more distinct.

If it was me, we were definitely off duty.

I started the engine and turned on the air conditioner so that the car would be cool by the time she got down.

Cool, I thought with amusement.

As if things were ever cool with Alex around.

I've been on fire for three days now.

Well, longer than that , but still…

Sunday night, after we'd worked the case until nearly ten o'clock, we went back to my place.

"I'm not going to talk about my sex life," I said to her as we went into the building.

She'd just finished telling me that if I trust Gyson, I should open up and be honest with her about everything, including Alex. It was a bold statement, and she was putting a lot of faith in my judgment of character, because the information of our budding relationship, in the wrong hands, could be damaging to both of us.

"I'm sorry, do you have a sex life?" she teased, and I was so glad to see that her nerves seemed to have disappeared and that she was relaxed and comfortable about what we were getting ready to do, because there was no way I was going to rush her if she wasn't ready, but I was so ready…

"No, but if you hurry up maybe I will."

She'd laughed at my remark, but she also picked up the pace.

We hurried onto the elevator, and as soon as the doors shut, she was on me.

And I mean in the best possible of ways.

Her hands cupped my face as she kissed me with such ardor and enthusiasm that I couldn't think about anything except getting her upstairs behind closed doors.

In fact, I didn't even think about pushing the button because after we kissed for several long minutes, the elevator doors opened up again and we were still in the lobby.

"I didn't push the button," I mumbled as I blindly reached out to remedy the problem.

"No kidding," she joked.

"You distracted me."

"Don't ask me to stop," she murmured.

As if I'd ever do that.

I can probably say the word in a dozen different languages, but it wasn't anywhere in my vocabulary that night.

She continued kissing me in such a way that my desperation to get her alone was reaching astronomical proportions. I turned us around so that she was the one with her back to the wall, and I really wanted to reach beneath her dress again, but not while we were on the elevator…if this damn thing would ever just make it to the fourth floor.

And then it hit me that the elevator had stopped moving, so I glanced sideways and saw that we were on the fourth floor and that the doors must've been open for awhile because as I looked, they started to close again.

Keeping one hand on Alex, I reached out with the other hand to reverse the doors' progress, and then together we hustled down the hall to my apartment.

This time, when we went inside, we didn't stop in the foyer.

We didn't even stop in the living room.

Instead, we went straight to the bedroom.

My apartment was dark and as we went down the hall, I didn't bother to turn on any lights, but once we got to my bedroom, I reached for the switch.

"Uh uh," she argued lightly.

"But I want to see you."

"Bobby…"

"I've imagined this so many times in my mind…and if we leave it dark, I'm afraid it'll still just feel like a dream," I explained. "I want to see you, all of you, and I want to see your face while I make love to you."

I wasn't going to push more than that.

If she said no, I'd leave it off, because I didn't want her to be self-conscious or uncomfortable, but she didn't say no.

Instead, she reached up and flicked on the switch and then eased up on her toes to kiss me again, and this time it was slower, more deliberate…more emotional and meaningful, and I was starting to get a glimpse of the depth of her feelings for me.

Somewhere near my own, maybe.

"Sorry it took me so long," Alex said, opening up the passenger door to the SUV and pulling me from my most favorite memory.

"It's fine. What'd he want?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said as she buckled her seatbelt. I kept watching her, and when she looked up she gave me an encouraging nod. "Let's go."

I backed out of the space and drove out of the parking garage and then she continued.

"Okay, so he asked me for the real scoop on you."

"What?"

"I know," she agreed as she turned towards me in her seat and settled her hand on my leg. Sparks were instantly ignited from her touch, and I took one hand off the wheel and settled it over hers. "I guess he's trying to finish up his on-the-job eval, and part of it requires having a statement from me."

"You have to assess my fitness for duty?"

"A partner's statement is standard protocol," she reminded me. And then she smiled and said, "And you won't believe how he said it…oh my God, Bobby, it was all I could do not to burst out laughing."

"What'd he say?" I asked, my amusement overriding my irritation over the evaluation.

So what if Alex had to write a report?

"I went into his office and he said, 'So, Eames…I need the real dope on Bobby, okay? Has he been rubbing you the wrong way? Or is he getting it done?' I bet I stared at him for a solid minute before I was able to reply."

"And what did you say?" I asked, smiling at her recount.

"I said," she began, leaning over the console and increasing the pressure on my thigh. "That you rub me exactly the right way."

"You did not," I said, but my argument was only half-hearted because she started kissing the side of my neck and up around my ear, and I honestly just didn't care what was said between her and Hannah.

"I did. I also told him that you get it done on a regular basis, and that if I could ever leave 1PP, you were going to be getting it done again tonight."

"You're pretty sure about that, huh?" I teased, but then I drew in a sharp breath as she stopped stroking over my thigh and instead ran it directly over me, using just the right amount of pressure.

I had no idea that she'd be like this – daring, adventurous, provocative, insatiable… I absolutely love this side of her.

I'm also glad that my apartment isn't all that far away from work because I'm not sure how much longer I'd be able to hold off, what with her hand running over me and that thing she was doing to my ear…

"Next time, you're driving," I told her as I pulled into a parking spot and quickly cut off the engine.

"Why would I want to do that?" she teased as we got out of the car. She didn't wait for me to open her door, and that was fine. We were both in too much of a hurry. "Being a passenger is so much more fun."

Two days later, Hannah called me into his office.

It was Friday afternoon, and we'd just wrapped up our case a few hours before.

As it turned out, Hannah was kind of right about some women being unable to handle a weapon the size of the Super Blackhawk.

When we tracked down all of the models with whom our victim had been intimate, one of them had a recently broken nose.

See, the Blackhawk kicks like a mule.

Of course, she had a lame cover story, but it only took Alex and me about an hour to get it straight.

It never ceases to amaze me how often people kill out of jealousy.

"So, you're sprung," Hannah said once I was in his office with the door closed.

"Sprung?"

"You're a hundred percent cleared. Good to go. No more spot checks, no more therapy…"

"Thank you," I said as I accepted his offer of a hand shake.

"Don't thank me. You earned it. And hey, what the hell did you have to do to Eames to get her to write a report like that?"

I managed not to laugh until I was back at my desk.

"What are you so happy about?" Alex asked me.

"I'll make you a list."

"That good, huh?"

"Well, I'm off probation. And apparently my partner thinks very highly of me. And then there's the fact that I've got this incredible woman in my life…"

"Who's this woman?" she asked. "I might have to kick her ass."

We bantered back and forth while we finished up the paperwork, and then I got a call from Dr. Gyson.

"I have to go out of town this weekend," she told me. "Is there any way you can come this evening? Say, in an hour?"

So that's how I found myself sitting on Dr. Gyson's couch at five-thirty on Friday evening.

Alex was going to pick me up at six-thirty, and then we were going on a date.

Because really, since Sunday night, all of our alone time had been spent in bed together.

Or on the couch.

Or wherever.

But we hadn't gone on a date since last weekend, and I wanted to be able to take her out and show her a good time.

Not that I haven't been showing her a good time.

But I mean like dancing or something.

"I know I said it last week, but I have to say it again," the doctor said. "You really look different."

"I shaved," I said with a smirk.

"Uh huh," she replied, nodding and smiling at me. "Are we going to do this dance again?"

"Things are going really well for me," I admitted without further prompting.

"I can see that. Happiness suits you."

"It's not just that," I said, leaning back comfortably in the chair. "It's…it's like…when you're watching the TV and it seems slightly out of focus and maybe a little fuzzy and you can't relax because you're trying to make sense of the images on the screen, and then someone comes along and adjusts the antenna and suddenly everything is clearer and it all makes sense and then you can sit back and enjoy the show."

"Wow…um…okay. I like the analogy. So someone…adjusted your antenna?"

She was watching me expectantly and she had a half-smile on her face, and I was so close to just admitting it.

I'm in love with my partner.

It'd be so easy to say because it was absolutely the truth and yet I still held back.

"Yeah," I said instead.

"And so things are clearer now. Meaning what, exactly?"

"You know how we talked the other week about my anger?"

"Yes. I asked you what was underneath. And you said more anger. But looking at you today…I don't see it."

"I think that I was so angry with my life…I mean, with the way my life was up to this point, and I blamed my family for it…my father for not being around, my brother for his addiction, and my mother for her illness…I blamed them all because I felt like it was their fault that I was so stuck in a lonely existence. It was their fault that I wasn't capable of loving or being loved. It was just me and the job, and then if something went wrong with the job, I couldn't deal with it because that was all I had. Everything about me was invested in being a cop."

I paused and looked over at her, somewhat surprised with how the words just flowed out of me, nearly unbidden.

"Keep going. I think you might be on to something."

"Okay, so…I think that I just needed to let it all go. I needed to quit worrying and blaming and being so single-faceted."

"You did that by coming to understand that you are worthy of love and that you are capable of loving," she added. "It's almost like you were fighting with yourself, part of you wanting more and the other part of you denying the possibility."

"Right," I agreed.

"So I take it there've been more dates with this mystery woman," she said smugly.

"Yes. And it's going…very well."

"Judging by the look of you, I'd say that's an understatement," she stated. "Tell me…does she know that you're coming to see me?"

"Yes. She's known from the beginning. I'm following your advice, and I'm being as open and honest as I can be."

She nodded thoughtfully as she stared at me.

"If she continues to be an integral part of your life, I might want to include her in a session some time. How do you feel about that?"

"Um…I'm okay with it. I'll have to run it by her, but…yeah, we can probably do that."

"Okay. Good. Now…you're off probation. You're in a relationship. You're feeling less anger and more happiness…I think we've covered the hot button issues for today."

I scooted up to the edge of my seat, getting ready to get up, but then I caught the wily look on her face and I paused.

"Except for one," she added.

"What's that?"

"Well, a few weeks ago, we discussed your partner. You've been together eleven or twelve years, you respect her, admire her…we both agreed that she's a very important relationship in your life."

"Uh huh," I agreed carefully.

"So how does she feel about the fact that you've fallen in love?"

"How does she…feel?"

She had me so off-balance that I didn't even bother to deny her words, and she picked up on it immediately.

I sensed the change in the atmosphere.

I was no longer in control.

Now I was the mouse whose tail was caught beneath the cat's paw.

Oh, and she's the cat.

"I'm wondering if she's feeling neglected or pushed aside, maybe less significant…have you talked about this with her?"

"With Eames?"

"Yes," she said with an indulgent smile. "Have you talked about your personal life with your partner?"

I stared at her for a full minute.

Maybe more.

And she stared right back at me, almost daring me to continue the lie.

"I haven't told my partner that I've fallen in love," I said at last. "But I plan to."

There.

Perfectly honest.

"How do you think she'll react?"

I continued to hold her gaze as I debated how best to answer the question, but then she adjusted in her chair, putting both feet on the floor like she does when she's getting ready to offer up some tremendously thought-provoking statement.

"Okay, let's back up a minute," she stated. "You've spent some time at the range, right?"

And even though I anticipated the change of direction, the off-the-wall topic still threw me.

"The firing range? Um…yeah. The Army, the department…yeah."

"Good. So tell me about the preferred shooting technique."

"The…what?"

"What do they teach you to do? What's the technique?"

"Oh, um…BRAS-F."

"Right," she said with a smile, clearly already well aware of the answer. "Go through it with me."

"You want me to go through the steps of how to shoot a weapon," I clarified.

"Sure. I mean, you know it's not only good for the firing range. It works in life, too."

I stared at her questioningly, but she continued.

"Breathe…that's first. And then relax. I think you did both of those in my office the other week. I signed off on you…you asked to keep coming…it was a pivotal moment. You were getting more comfortable in your own skin. You were open to the idea that you're more than your job."

"Okay, yeah," I agreed. "So…aim?"

"Aim," she said with a nod. "What is it that you want? A normal life, right? And how do you plan to go about getting it? By opening yourself up to…this woman. So you've taken aim at her, right?"

"Alright," I said. "I'm with you.

She smiled and sat back in her chair.

"Good. Next."

"Squeeze?" I asked skeptically.

"Okay, so maybe it doesn't fit literally, but it's about taking action, right? Setting the wheels in motion toward your ultimate goal. You took aim by choosing who you wanted to spend time with, and then you squeezed the trigger when you asked her out."

"True."

"So….what's left?"

"Follow through," I stated.

"Exactly," she said firmly, and then she repeated me, enunciating each word carefully. "Follow. Through. Because up until now, you've managed to do a lot of self-sabotage. You denied yourself what you thought you didn't deserve. And I'm not even sure you got through the first step in this shooting technique, much less the last, but look at you now….now you're down to the follow through. So the question is…are you going to see it through? Or are you going to keep parts of yourself hidden…from me, from her…until you've shored up your walls again? Because the way I see it, you're almost there. You just need to…"

"Follow through," I finished with a nod.

She smiled at me and then leaned forward again, bracing her arms on her thighs.

I looked up at the ceiling for a moment and then met her penetrating gaze and decided what the hell.

I had Alex's blessing to discuss it, and maybe she was right about the fact that if I kept withholding important details then it would only prolong my need for therapy.

And maybe Gyson was right about me needing to open up to Alex, too. I mean, I have mostly, but not completely.

Because I know I'm in love with her, so why haven't I told her yet?

"What do I think my partner will say when I tell her that I'm in love?" I said, restating her earlier question. "Well, I'm really hoping she'll return the sentiment."

Twenty minutes later, I was walking down the outside stairs, heading to where Alex was waiting for me in the car.

She was already in the passenger seat, so I got in behind the wheel and turned to look at her.

Not just a dress tonight, but a really nice dress. And heels. And her hair was pulled up in some kind of clip thing and the style made me want to slide my lips across her neck.

"How'd it go?" she asked with a smile.

"Good," I answered as I settled my hand against her cheek and leaned over to kiss her.

"Good," she murmured just as I brought my lips to hers.

I've known for a while that I wanted Alex in my life, but I never guessed being with her would make everything so much better.

But it did.

I slowly pulled back from her and let my eyes travel over her again, appreciating how she'd clearly taken the time to dress nice.

For me.

"Alex, I…this might be….you know that…"

I stopped my ridiculous stunted efforts at speech and took a deep breath.

Follow through, Goren.

"I love you. I'm sorry that it took me so long to get here, to be able to admit it, but I'm just…so in love with you."

For a minute, she looked surprised, and then she smiled.

"You might've been slow to get with the program, but now that you're here, I'd say you're doing pretty good."

She reached out and grabbed onto my tie, pulling me back to her. I thought she was going to kiss me, but instead she moved her lips to my ear.

"I love you, too."

I closed my eyes, savoring the moment as she then pressed a lingering kiss against my cheek.

"You were…waiting for me, weren't you?" I asked. "That seems to be the trend."

"It's okay. You're worth the wait."

I kissed her one more time as the emotion flooded through me and then I finally sat back and buckled my seatbelt.

"So, where to?" she asked as I started the car. Then she smirked and added, "Crime scene? Your place? Vegas?"

"I was thinking maybe we could go dancing," I suggested.

I watched her as she nodded thoughtfully, clearly liking the idea.

And then we had another moment. One like from nearly two weeks before where I looked at her and she looked at me, only this time our positions were reversed and my nerves and uncertainty were gone, and I just feel…happy.

As I continued to watch her, she reached over and took hold of my hand and then smiled and said, "Okay then. Let's go."

The End

A/N: I think this really is the end this time - at least for now. Hope you all enjoyed it, and maybe I'll come back to it at some point!