Glancing up from her magazine, the tip of her pen caressing her lips, she cocked a brow and asked, "Hey...which US State borders eight other states?"

Crinkling his button nose, he tilted his head to the side and leaned back. Lacing his long fingers behind his curly-haired head, he pursed his lips in thought. "Tennessee."

Nodding, she cast him a smile and scribbled the answer within the confiscated mag.

Nearly balling her newspaper in frustration, she looked up and noticed him watching her with amusement. Sighing dramatically, she finally asked him, "Which entertainer's brassiere fetched $11,000 at an auction in Michigan in 1991?"

A wide smile adorned his baby face as he leaned forward. Winking, he whispered, "That would be Madonna."

"Figures," she muttered, not bothering to thank him.

Tossing a large book down on her desk, she raked her fingers through her hair exhaustively. He turned his brown eyes on her lazily, silently probing her for answer...or the inevitable question. Rolling her eyes, she relented. "Fine, fine...but one day I won't need your help with something, I guarantee it!"

He only responded with a soft, half-smile. Tilting his head to the side, he patiently waited for her to ask her question. She motioned to the book, a large scientific textbook she decided to skim over in preparation for an upcoming interrogation.

"Fine, genius, answer this one...What weather phenomenon is measured by the Beaufort scale?"

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and pretended to be concentrating very hard on the question. But a small smile pulled at his lips, causing her to throw a wadded ball of paper at his broad chest. "You think it's easy!"

He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. "Well, it's certainly not the toughest." Screwing his face up, he attempted to resume his 'thinking' face. At her dark expression, he smirked and answered, "Wind."

Resisting the urge to pout, she settled for crossing her arms and acting indifferent. "So you know everything...one of these days I'll show you what I know."

A lazy smile settled on his face as he picked up his pen and began scribbling in his notebook. "I'm sure you will." His soft tone caused her to look up, but he was too far gone in his work.

"The cause or intention underlying an action or situation," Eames shakily stated, her voice breaking. Looking up at the blue sky above her she answered for herself. "Why?"

Toeing the mound of dirt laying at her feet, she sighed heavily and closed her eyes. Kneeling before the mound, she placed a single Magnolia. Fingering a silky petted with a finger, she stood back up and motioned at the flower. "Perseverance...nobility...that's what that flower stands for but-" she felt her throat closing up. Shaking it off, she finished, "You already knew that, Bobby." Wiping a tear from her face roughly, she whispered, "You knew everything."

END.

Please Review.