Post Identity Crisis. Spoiler Alert for that episode!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Dick does.

For Snyder...cheers!

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Bobby's apartment.

"What are you doin' here? Is everything okay?" He looked at her a little dismayed.

"Actually, I came here to ask you the same thing."

He mulled her answer over, then opened the door further, inviting her in. She quickly scanned the apartment. It was dark, the light over the stove was on, as was the TV, but the volume was so low she could barely make out voices. She noticed an empty bottle of wine, one glass, and two beer cans on the table.

She motioned toward the table with her head. "Do you have company?"

"Uh, no. Just me." He felt uncomfortable, figuring she was judging his drinking.

"The wine wasn't enough?" He rolled his eyes and ignored her question.

"You here for a reason, Eames?" His defensive response made her change her approach.

"You gonna offer me a beer?"

"You, uh, you want a beer?"

"I'd love one." She settled down on the couch as he went to the kitchen.

He came back with two beers and a glass. "I don't need a glass, I'm not a snob." He saw her smile in the pale light and it made him smile, too. Good, he's relaxing a little. She took a few sips in silence, trying to put him at ease.

"So, what brings you here tonight."

"I can't just come by and have a beer?"

"Well, you could, but this late on a work night? That's not what brings you here." He hesitated and watched her. She had one leg crossed under her, and she was nervously picking at them hem of her sweater. Her head was down so her hair was covering her face more than usual. She took another sip of beer, then looked at him as she placed the can on the table.

"Are you okay, Bobby?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He was defensive again.

"Please," she touched his arm and left her hand there as she spoke, "please don't get upset with me. It's just, I was thinkin' this case could have hit a little too close to home for you. The schizophrenic mother…the two brothers protecting each other...the neglect and abuse..."

Push her away! Make her leave! His first instinct was flight, not fight. He knew he didn't want to fight with her anymore, but if he was being honest with himself, he didn't want her to leave, either. He looked at her and images of the past year flashed through his mind. He thought of the pain he went through, and the pain he'd caused her, and he knew what he had to do. He had to meet her half way.

"I guess you could say that." His head was down, he was staring at his hands.

She kept her hand on his arm and gave him a gentle squeeze. "Can we talk about it a little?"

Let her in, Goren, let her in. He nodded.

She cautiously moved the conversation forward. "Those old interviews, those were…I could see they got to you."

He glanced her way, "You saw that?"

"Don't worry, Ross didn't."

He put his head back down. "It - it was tough, ya know? Seein' those kids…they could have been me and Frank."

"Mhm." Her quiet acknowledgement was what he needed to continue.

He felt himself loosening up, needing to talk. To her. "When I saw those old burns on Anthony, my insides just…tightened. And when Rodgers said they were caused by an iron…I knew. I knew what he had been through." He quickly looked her way. He wanted to see her, to make sure she wasn't pitying him. He didn't want her pity, he just wanted her to listen and understand. He didn't see anything but caring in her eyes so he put his head down again. "And when we talked to Anthony's ex-wife…and she flippantly called his mom 'a schizo'…I got that same tightening inside of me. All I could think was, I get this. I get the whole damn scene."

He paused to take a long sip of he beer. Suddenly, he was extremely aware of her hand on his arm. They never touched each other like that. There have been quick brushes of their arms, or a hand on an arm during something undercover, but never this. Never Alex Eames touching Bobby Goren. The soothing warmth was stirring something inside of him that he hadn't felt in a long time, and never allowed himself to feel for her. There had been times when his thoughts would start to travel in that direction but he always forced them out of his head quicker than he could think 'she's your partner'. But there she was, rubbing her thumb back and forth across the fabric of his shirt. He was certain she meant this to be reassuring to him, but his mind and body were going in a different direction entirely. He found himself silently berating himself for not being in a short sleeved shirt. He desperately wanted to feel her skin on his.

Unaware of the torment Bobby was going through, Alex gently pressed on, "When you were interviewing Tommy, you showed him those pictures. You spoke to him about how much Anthony trusted him. You knew how that felt."

He shook his head a little to refocus on her words instead of her hand. "I did know." He let out a big breath. "When we were little…Frank…he was everything to me. For many years, he was the one person in my life I knew I could trust. And I hung on to that trust because, as a kid, you need to feel safe. For a long time, he was the only person I felt safe around."

He adjusted his sitting position a little, he put his beer down, then he slid down into the couch a little and put one foot on the edge of the coffee table, while the other remained on the ground. She kept her hand on his arm.

"And when you talked to him about his brother wanting to make amends…do you wish you had had that chance, too?"

His voice became unsteady, "Yes. I said some awful things to Frank the last time I saw him. I was mad and I lashed out at him because he was such an easy target for me. What I said, I didn't really mean, but that's the last thing he heard me say to him."

Then, he felt her other hand on his leg and her lips against his cheek. Her warm breath was right against his skin. "You know you cared, I know you cared, and when he wasn't high, Frank knew you cared, Bobby." She moved away from him and took her one hand off his leg, but moved her other one from his arm to his shoulder. He felt almost lightheaded from what was happening. As great as the conversation they were having was, it in no way matched up to what his body was feeling. He wanted her, badly. He thought that maybe because he let his defenses down so they could talk, he also allowed other parts of himself to feel things he'd long been suppressing.

When he didn't answer her, Alex ran her hand behind his neck and leaned her head down to make eye contact. "Hey, you okay in there?"

Her face was right in front of his. How easy would it be to just… And then before he knew it, he leaned forward, closed his eyes, and gently kissed her. He didn't pull away, he left his face almost touching hers and he opened his eyes. A moment later, she opened hers and the look she gave him let him know they were okay. Then, she pressed her lips to his again as his hand came up and found her neck. Another gentle kiss, but this one lingered a bit longer.

"Alex." His voice was low and his eyelids were heavy. The look on his face made her melt.

"Bobby, is this too much after everything you just went through?" She remained poised in front of him.

He shook his head as he brought his hand around to her face, running his fingers first over her jaw line, then across her lips. Then he used his other hand to pull her down onto him. She ended up sitting on his lap, her arms around his neck and both her legs off to one side. Their kisses turned more passionate as their tongues found each other and his hands began exploring her.

She broke the kiss to catch her breath and to get an answer to her question. "You didn't answer me, is this too much?"

"Are you going to leave?"

"No."

"Then it's not too much. You're exactly what I need. You always have been."

"Me, too."

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The End.

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a/n: Hope you enjoyed that. Until next time…cifan.