Zephyrs asked for another story with Steve from Fate Intervenes, so here it is :-)

The shifts of fortune test the reliability of friends.
---Cicero

It's the friends you can call at four a.m. that matter.
---Marlene Dietrich

Bobby Goren stirred restlessly in his sleep. She wasn't there and he could tell. He always knew when she spent the night at her place and he was alone, and he never slept well when she wasn't there. She had spent the day with her nephew and his parents while he went to visit his mother. He respected her need for time away; he understood how intense he could be. He always respected her needs, even above his own. He shifted again, settling into a light sleep right at the edge of wakefulness. So when the phone rang, it didn't take more than one ring to rouse him and two for him to answer. Out of habit, he glanced at the clock as he grabbed the phone. Just after three. Crap...

"Goren," he muttered into the phone.

Bobby?

The voice sounded familiar... "Uh, who is this?"

Steve Cavanaugh. I'm really sorry to bother you like this, but I need your help.

"At three o'clock on a Sunday morning?"

Yeah. I know. But I had no idea who else to call. I, uh... He sighed. Could you come and get me, man?

Goren sat up and ran a hand over his hair. "Okay, yeah, sure. Where are you?"

Um, according to the lifeguard stand over there, I'm in Wildwood.

"New Jersey?"

Yeah, on the beach. Something really...bad must have happened.

"Why do you say that?"

I...I have no idea how I got here, Bobby. I don't know where Kelsey is and...and I think this is blood...all over my clothes.

"Blood?"

I think so. I-I don't know what happened...and I'm really scared here.

"All right. Hang tight. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Thanks, man.

He hung up the phone. The kid sounded terrified. He dialed his partner's number. This better be good, Goren.

"Did you have a good day?"

Bobby, if you called me at three in the morning to see how my day went, I swear you'll regret it.

He laughed softly. "Um, would you like to go see the sun rise?"

What? Goren, have you lost your mind? Why can't you call Logan once in awhile when you can't sleep?

"I do, but something tells me he wouldn't want to go down to the ocean and watch the sun rise with me." She didn't respond. "Eames?"

I'm trying to decide whether to be mad at you or not. Are you serious?

"About going to the ocean? Yes. Seeing the sun rise is just a fringe benefit. I, um, I got a call from a friend who's in trouble."

She sighed heavily. Who?

"Steve Cavanaugh."

She was silent. After what Steve had done for her partner in that subway tunnel seven months ago, there was no way either of them could turn their backs on him. I'll be ready by the time you get here, she said. And you better have coffee.

"Thanks, Alex."

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They found him sitting on the beach, hugging his legs and shivering. Goren slipped off his jacket and draped it over his friend's shoulders. They sat down on either side of him in the sand. Steve pulled the jacket closer around his shoulders and shuddered. Goren leaned forward to look at Steve's face. "Tell us what you remember."

"We went to a party. Nothing huge. Maybe fifty or sixty people...2 kegs...you know."

"Where was the party?"

"I don't remember exactly..." He rubbed his forehead. "It was somewhere over on Vandam or Varick, near the Holland Tunnel. Everything from last night is just a blur. Maybe Kelsey can tell you more when we find her."

"Were there any drugs around?"

"Some. There was some X, coke, you know, the usual party drugs."

"What did you take?"

"Nothing. I was drinking...took a few hits off a joint... That's it. I swear."

"How much did you have to drink?"

There was no judgment, no accusation in his voice, and Steve relaxed a little. "I...I don't know for sure."

Goren patted his shoulder and nodded. "I've been there." Steve relaxed even more. Goren went on. "Maybe the joint was laced with something?"

"I don't know. It tasted fine."

"Still, we should probably get a tox screen done on you."

"I...I need to find Kelsey."

"Where was she the last time you saw her?"

"At the party."

"Did you call her?"

He nodded. "No answer."

"And you have no idea how you got here?"

"Not a clue. I woke up down there, near the surf. Look at my clothes, dude."

He opened the jacket and Goren leaned forward to look at his clothes. He was wearing jeans and a yellow t-shirt. The letters were bearly readable: Jesus loves you. Everyone else thinks you're an idiot. Goren choked back a chuckle. This kid had the best t-shirts. He studied the dark splotches that covered Steve's clothes, reaching out to touch the stains on his shirt. They were still wet and tacky. It sure looked and felt like blood. The first thing he did was examine Steve for an injury, but the only thing he found was a lump on the back of his head that had not broken the skin. It was not his blood, and that knot on his head would explain his confusion.

Goren sighed. "Show us where you woke up."

Steve got to his feet, pulling Goren's jacket tighter around his shoulders. He led them close to the water's edge, where the tide had not yet risen to obliterate the depression in the sand where he had woken. Goren noted two sets of tracks that led from the road and then back to it. Two people had carried Steve here and dropped him near the water's edge, hoping the tide would come in and the ocean would take care of him. He looked over at his partner, meeting her eyes and relaying his concern through his expression. She just nodded.

Goren squatted beside the depression, tilting his head and looking closer. "Eames."

She leaned over as he pulled his switchblade from his pocket. Sticking the tip in the sand, he flipped a folded piece of paper free from where Steve's body had worked it into the packed sand. Pulling a pen from his shirt pocket, he unfolded the paper. There was a phone number written on it along with the name Sharon. Goren looked up at Steve, who had leaned over to see what he had found and now shrugged. "I don't know anyone named Sharon."

"Maybe someone at the party gave this to you?"

"Could be. But I'm with Kelsey. I wouldn't have hit on someone else."

"Perhaps she was the one doing the hitting," Eames suggested.

"It's possible, but I don't remember."

Goren pointed to his jacket. "In the pocket, there are some plastic bags. Hand me one, please."

Steve did as he was asked and handed him an evidence bag. Eames looked amused. "Carrying evidence bags around now just for the heck of it?"

He smiled as he slid the paper into the bag and labeled it. Standing, he handed the bag to her and looked up and down the beach. "Um, we ought to check the dunes."

"After you," she said. "Those dunes are full of snakes and crabs, and I'll just let you lead the way."

"You're not afraid of snakes, are you?"

"Afraid? No. But that doesn't mean I want them jumping out at me from the bushes."

He gave her an amused smile, then looked at Steve. "Wait here."

Steve nodded. He wasn't feeling very adventurous right now. He was still scared, cold, and very worried about his girlfriend.

Eames followed him down the beach toward the dunes. He slowed his pace and let her step to his side. With a soft smile, he nodded toward the ocean. "I promised you a sunrise."

"A sunrise over a potential crime scene. How romantic."

She waited as he breached the first dune, maybe as high as his shoulders. He reached the top and swore. "Call the paramedics, Eames. We just found Kelsey." He charged down the side of the dune as she pulled out her phone.

-------------------------------------------------

The ambulance pulled away from the beach, lights and sirens running. Eames walked over to her partner, who had removed himself from the scene once the paramedics had arrived and was looking out across the ocean in the early morning light. The sun was fully risen, and his clothes were now covered in Kelsey's blood. She touched the small of his back and he reached for her, pulling her into his arms and holding her. Quietly, she asked, "Do you think she'll be okay?"

"I don't know."

"What made you check the dunes?"

"Just being thorough."

He looked over toward the dunes, where the local crime scene techs were combing the area. Eames sighed and patted his stomach. "The next time you want to be romantic, Goren, dinner and dancing works just fine for me."

He smiled and kissed her forehead. Releasing her, he headed for the parking area, where Steve sat in the back of a patrol car. Two local cops were talking to him. The senior of the two turned toward them as they approached. "So, tell me what brought two gold shields from Manhattan way down here to South Jersey in the middle of the night."

"Mr. Cavanaugh is a friend of ours," Eames explained. "He called us."

"What are you going to do with him, Sergeant?" Goren asked.

"At the moment, we have nothing to keep him on. So I'm going to release him to your custody. He lives in Manhattan?"

"Yes." Goren pulled out his wallet and removed his card, handing it to the sergeant. "Keep me informed and I'll do the same. Whatever happened, this is where it ended. The girl was injured somewhere else, and I'm guessing it was on our turf."

The sergeant nodded, handing his card and a clipboard to Goren, who signed to take Steve into his custody. Taking the clipboard back, he said, "You'll be hearing from me, Detective Goren."

"Likewise, Sergeant Rothman."

Rothman opened the back door of the cruiser. "All right, Mr. Cavanaugh. You are free to go with the detectives."

"Thank you."

Goren noted how pale and shaky Steve was. Probably in shock. He handed Steve the keys to the car. "There's a change of clothes in the back seat. Get changed and wait for us there. Go ahead and start the car and turn the heat on."

"Thanks, Bobby."

He trudged off toward Goren's SUV, pulling the too-large jacket tighter around his shoulders, grateful for the warmth it provided. He was still shaky and he felt sick to his stomach.

Eames watched him, her heart going out to the young man. "Your clothes are going to be huge on him."

"Not mine. Logan's. They won't be as big."

"Why do you have Logan's clothes?" she asked with a smile.

"He has a change of clothes at my place, and I have one at his. Just in case."

"In case of what?"

He grinned as he pulled out his phone. "Never mind." He pressed speed dial '3' and waited while it rang. Finally...What the hell do you want, Goren?

"Good morning, sunshine."

Fuck you.

Goren chuckled. "I have some detecting for you to do, Mike."

At seven o'clock on a Sunday morning?

"Yeah. I need you to head over to the neighborhood just south of Greenwich Village and see what you can find out about any parties that were held around there last night."

What? You want me to find out what parties were held around a couple of college campuses on a Saturday night? How hard did you hit your head?

"I didn't."

You have to be kidding me. Tell me this is a joke.

"Sorry...no joke. The party was held around Vandam and Varick down by the Holland Tunnel."

Logan huffed impatiently. Mind if I ask what we're looking for?

"Remember Kelsey and Steve, those two kids who were trapped with me by that subway explosion in March?"

Yeah.

"Someone hurt her badly and dumped her in the dunes by the ocean down in Wildwood. He has no idea what happened. Last thing he remembers they were at that party. I want to know what happened to Kelsey, where it happened and who did it."

Oh, is that all? No problem. You don't ask for much.

"Thanks, Mike."

You're buying dinner tonight.

"Let me know what you find."

Sure. How long you been up?

"Since three."

Is your partner with you?

"Yeah."

At least you called me at a decent hour. What are you gonna do?

"Right now, we're going to go to the hospital to see how Kelsey is and get Steve checked out."

You do know you're a pain in the ass, don't you?

"Yeah. My partner tells me that all the time."

Good. Later.

Goren slid the phone back into his pocket as he turned toward the car. Eames asked, "What do I tell you all the time?"

"That I'm a pain in the ass."

"Oh. Well, you are."

"I know. Let's get Steve over to the hospital."