A/N: Thanks go out to my beta, The Confused One, for helping me out with this.

Disclaimer: Don't sue, none of this stuff belongs to me. (But wouldn't it be great if it did?)

Warning: Genre subject to change as the story progresses.

If you asked the people who knew her to describe Alex Eames, they would all say pretty much the same thing. Tough. Smart. Strong. Funny. Loyal. Brave. All the qualities you'd expect from someone who'd become a cop, lost her husband, carried her sister's child, and stuck with Goren.

They would also tell you that she was definitely not the kind of person who would take crap from anyone.

Which was why it was such an odd sight when she came into work with a look on her face of pure contempt for the rest of humanity on what was otherwise an ordinary Friday morning. Her eyebrows were slanted downward in an expression that clearly told everyone who saw it to back off now, before someone got hurt. She tossed her empty Starbucks cup into the trash and let herself fall into her chair across from her partner with an unceremonious thump.

Even without the more obvious physical signs, Bobby would've been able to immediately tell that something was wrong. After nearly six years of working together, he had an uncanny way of reading her every move. Leaning back in his chair, he tried to analyze the situation.

Whatever the problem was, it wasn't something trivial. Alex was a woman in a male-dominated career, and she prided herself on her tough exterior. For her, shows of intense emotion were very, very rare. She had a certain air about her that came across clearly to everyone around her: one look and you knew this was one cop you didn't want to mess with. Those who did make the unfortunate mistake of making cracks about her gender or height always ended up regretting it for a very long time. Those who compared her to either her father or her partner faced a similarly undesirable fate. It was rare that she got emotional at all, and if you saw her cry, you'd better take a picture, because it was almost guaranteed that you would never see it again.

Yes, Alexandra Eames was not the type of woman to be seen with evidence of a breakdown still visible on her face. Something had to be seriously wrong for her not to care about showing her mood to the entire Major Case Squad.

She looked up from her seat to see him studying her, a look of concern mixed with curiosity on his face. She quickly lowered her eyes, avoiding that infamous penetrating gaze he liked to use on suspects. She tried to concentrate on the paperwork in front of her, but she could still feel him watching her.

Turning her gaze upward again, she found him in the exact same position as he'd been when she'd first looked.

Suddenly feeling an unexplained shot of anger toward him, she glared. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," she retorted, feeling like a third grader even as she said it.

He raised his eyebrows and gave her a look of questioning mixed with amusement. His expression somehow conveyed both his surprise at her unusual moodiness and humor that she would use an insult like that.

Alex cringed inwardly. Once again, he'd managed to tell her more in one look than she could in complete sentences. Overcome by the sudden urge to throw something, she abruptly stood and strode wordlessly out of the squad room, nearly knocking over her chair in the process.

Bobby watched her for a second or two as she virtually ran out of the shining glass doors. By now, he knew better than to follow her, or any woman for that matter, and try to talk when she was in a mood like that. The end result was rarely the calm, quiet conversation he wanted it to be. It usually involved various objects hurtling toward his head at high speeds. Hoping to avoid another incident like that, he stayed at his desk and waited patiently for her to come back.

He didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later, she was walking back to her desk and looking considerably more stable. Reaching her chair, she sat down and turned her attention to her desk's surface, which by now had several thick stacks of paperwork scattered across its surface. Without a word or even a glance upward, she started into the files.

Bobby continued to watch her, searching for a sign of what had caused her abrupt exit. She'd been pissed off at the world five minutes ago, but now she seemed significantly calmer.

After a few moments, she felt his eyes on her and glanced up. At the sight of him staring at her, her relaxed expression changed to one of annoyance.

"Quit trying to analyze me, Goren," she said with a slight strain in her voice. "I'm fine."

Even as she said it, she realized how weak it sounded. "Fine" was definitely not the most convincing word she could have used. With Bobby Goren, saying you were fine was the surest way to let him know that you were definitely not fine, especially when it came to someone he knew as well as Alex.

He raised his eyebrows at her words. "You don't sound like it," he said disbelievingly. "You sound more like you're trying to stop yourself from punching someone."

She threw up her hands in exasperation. "Can I just do the damn paperwork?" she replied, a little louder than she meant to. Lowering her voice at the sight of a few heads turning in her direction, she said, "I just…I don't want to talk about it, alright?"

For a second, the anger and annoyance in her eyes disappeared and a new emotion surfaced in its place. For the briefest of moments, Bobby could swear he saw a glimpse of pain and sadness in her normally bright brown eyes.

But as quickly as it came, it was gone. Her expression of agitation returned, and with one last glare of warning, she turned back to her paperwork.

If he didn't know better, he'd have thought he imagined it. But there was no mistaking what he'd seen in that fleeting second when she'd dropped the tough-as-nails act. As much as she hated to admit it sometimes, Alex was human, and that meant she could feel something other than contempt for criminals. Something had happened to her, and he was going to find out what it was.

Seven hours later, it was time to pack it up and Alex had still hardly said a word to anyone. It had been an unusually slow day, with no new cases for what was generally, if a little reluctantly, considered the MCS' best team. With no interviews, no interrogations, and no leads to follow, Goren and Eames had spent the majority of the time at their respective desks catching up on their backlog of paperwork. Throughout the day, Alex had carefully avoided saying anything that might incite anything even close to a conversation.

But the day was over now. A good portion of their colleagues had already abandoned their desks to head home, get some sleep, and start fresh in the morning.

Bobby leaned back in his chair, stretched, and sighed. He looked over at his partner, who was still engrossed in the scattered remnants of what used to be a bulky stack of paperwork and decided it was time for them to call it a day.

"Eames," he spoke up, breaking her reverie. "You want to get out of here and get some dinner?"

For the first time all day, she smiled. "Sure, Bobby," she replied. "I'd like that."

Her smile suddenly turned mischievous. "On one condition," she continued. "You're buying."