I don't own these characters. Dick Wolf does. I don't have any money, so suing would be pointless.

I've always wanted to try a song fic, here's my first attempt… 3 Doors Down's "Kryptonite". I'm sure this is not the first, nor the best story to use this song, but it's all I could come up with.

Kryptonite

I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon

After all I knew it had to be something to do with you

I really don't mind what happens now and then

As long as you'll be my friend at the end…

Although activity teemed around them, the three central characters left in the drama unfolding before them, might well have been alone, removed not just from the swirl of activity but also from each other.

Goren thought it odd that he was the one in the middle. It wasn't just his physical location midway between his partner and their boss at Major Case, Captain Danny Ross, but also the sense that he was protecting both from the other. He realized it was Eames who was normally cast in this role, just as he had come to appreciate what a difficult the position it was to be in.

There was no point in talking to Eames. Not yet. She radiated an anger so intense it was an invisible barrier surrounding her and instilling in those around her the belief that any attempt at communication would be highly unwelcome.

A moment later, when the stillness had apparently become more than she could bear, Eames turned and started walking quickly away from them through the old train yard. There wasn't anything in that direction, no bus, no subway, no way for Eames to get back downtown or home. That didn't seem to be the point anyway. It seemed more important for her to get away before something irrevocable was said or done; Goren knew that was the reason his partner had stalked off. It's what he would have done.

He looked at Ross, whose expression was carefully neutral. It was a facade, Goren knew, he could see both sorrow and anger shrouded in the man's eyes. Ross had gambled with enormous stakes in the balance...and lost. The dead girl in the abandoned train car was the price of his failure, a mistake that would not soon be forgotten by anyone involved in the operation.

Goren walked over to Ross's car. On the hood where his and his partner's police ID's and shields lay. Neither was going to need their undercover identities any longer. The girls' death had ended the fiction of the assignment.

He pocketed his credentials, hesitated briefly before picking up his partner's things as well. He recognized the set of car keys still left lying on the hood and palmed them. Someone had thought to drive their SUV to the scene from where the two detectives and the girl had abandoned it. They had tried to get back to 1PP after men working for the Masucci crime family had discovered their location and had opened fire on them. They had only made it to the old train yard.

The girl, Diana Sanders had witnessed the murder of her fiancé, a newspaper reporter working to uncover a connection between the Masucci crime family and the Russian mob. She had recognized the shooter in a line-up. It turned out to be the Don's grandson, Carlo Masucci. She had already given her testimony before the grand jury, now they were waiting out the trial. Goren and Eames had investigated the case along with OCCB, and Diana Sanders trusted the two detectives. So much so she demanded the two be on her protection detail before the trial. OCCB had fought against it, wanting to use their own officers to protect her, but had to reconsider after District Attorney Branch insisted that the two detectives be part of the rotation of officers protecting the State's prime witness. He agreed with Ms. Sanders the the detail should contain officers who were not only qualified, but officers she already knew and trusted. Not that it had done any good. Even Branch might get singed by the heat her death was going to bring down on all of them.

Once again, before leaving, he looked at Ross, but the captain was looking across the open field, watching as the body of Diana Sanders was removed from the train car. As if sensing Goren's gaze on him, he turned to look at his detective, meeting his gaze.

Goren sought for something to say, but the right words wouldn't come through, they couldn't penetrate the jumble of his thoughts. Instead, all he managed was, "She thought she was saving us."

Perhaps there was unintentional accusation in his tone, because Ross's mouth tightened briefly before he looked away again, his reply left unspoken.

Goren didn't want to watch as the girl's body put into the ambulance, so he walked to the SUV and slid behind the wheel.

ooOOoo

He could see Eames vanishing into the distance. She must be at least a quarter-mile off, he thought. Her strides carrying her blindly away from the scene, quickly putting distance between her and everything that had happened there.

Starting the engine, Goren shifted the motor into gear and stomped angrily on the accelerator. The powerful car lunged forward, spewing dust and gravel as the tires spun in the dirt.

He slowed as he approached his partner, then coasted past and stopped a few yards ahead. In the rearview mirror, he saw Eames's steps falter, then start forward again. He reached across and opened the passenger door.

Eames stopped beside the car. Apparently reassured by Goren's silence, she finally slid onto the passenger seat and closed the door with enough force to shake the car frame.

Without a look or a word, Goren put the SUV into gear and drove away from the train yard. He wanted a drink. In fact, it was one of the few times he felt he needed a drink, something to dull the edge of his feelings of...feelings of... failure, of loss. He just wanted something to deaden his frayed nerves, to take the edge off what had been an incredibly long and shitty day.

He knew he couldn't take Eames to a bar, not in her present state. Eames was in the mood to hit something, someone, and her take no prisoners, have no pity on the poor soul to cross her path attitude would only bring trouble down on them both. Besides, the bars would be filling up now with people heading home after a day's worth of honorable toil. Normal people, people who didn't have to wonder if they'd made a horrible blunder that resulted in the death of a young girl...

Goren sighed. Eames was supposed to be the pragmatic one. Win or lose. Win some, lose some, and any one you walked away from was a victory. Of sorts. Well, they'd walked away from this one. Just.

He was the one who believed in the complicated ethical issues like right and wrong, good and evil, guilt and innocence. The one with too much emotional baggage, too much to think about during long, dark, silent nights. Goren firmly believed that too much thinking led to feelings of guilt. At times he felt like the poster boy for guilt.

With an abruptness that was almost savage, Goren swerved off the road, braking hard enough to make the back end of the SUV fishtail. The shock absorbers groaned under the punishment, but the car finally rocked to a halt.

Goren realized his hands were trembling, and he clutched the steering wheel to make them stop. With jaws clenched so that speaking actually hurt, he grated, "Sometimes I could cheerfully strangle Ross."

Eames slanted a look at him, her still hard gaze now showing an awareness beyond hers own inner rage. In a voice so soft and mild it had to be the result of rigid control, she asked, "Did he say anything?"

Goren shook his head sharply. "Logan told me that he, Wheeler and Ross arrested someone from the 2-7 for leaking the address of the safe house to one of Masucci's Lieutenants."

"A cop?" This time, Eames sounded interested. "Well, OCCB was afraid there was a leak, but an arrest already? The... the... the whole thing just went down an hour ago." She grimaced as she shook her head, her disbelief evidenced by her closing her eyes tightly and leaning her head back into the head restraint. It might also have been a reflection of the intense emotions coursing through her.

Goren felt like grimacing himself. They'd gone too long without proper sleep or food. The nearly five-hour drive, from Manhattan to Keene, NewYork up in Airondack Park and back three times in the last three days had left him tired, stressed and worse, burned out. They both needed the time to get their perspective, their balance back.

"Only one other person knows we're here." Eames had spoken the words confidently, feeling assured that the three of them were safe in the abandoned train car.

"He makes people trust him." Almost the very last words Diana Sanders had spoken.

They'd both meant Ross. And yet, Masucci's men had found them, and Diana Sanders was dead.

The anger and betrayal Eames felt were almost palpable. At that moment, she felt as if she were watching her entire world float to the dark side of the moon.

Goren chose his words carefully. For one thing, he didn't want to make excuses for Ross. For another, he was also unsure of his facts. He'd picked up bits and pieces from the crew who'd come to clean up the mess left from the assault, but he didn't know which was fact and which rumor. "I think Ross risked the whole operation. He was caught in some heavy political maneuverings. He needed us to buy time until he could pull it off and find out exactly who was after us."

Eames opened her eyes and stared blindly at the headliner of the roof. "We didn't do a very good job of it."

Goren sighed heavily. "Alex, she stood up and made herself a target."

Eames rolled her head sideways enough to glare at him. "To save us. That's why she did it."

Hesitantly he said, "I know." Again, he proceeded cautiously. They were approaching his own demons now, and he wasn't sure he wanted to go there. "Whatever her motives, she did it because she'd already realized there was no where she would ever feel safe again, she gave in."

Eames's expressive mouth curled in a sneer. "This from the man who was eager to do a Butch and Sundance?"

Goren's jaws tightened. He looked through the windscreen refusing to meet his partner's accusing eyes. "...we can't get out of here! Why drag it out?" His own words came back to mock him. Christ, he'd come so close to losing it. If he had acted on his impulses, they'd all be dead...dead just a few seconds before Ross nailed the bastard that was after them. But still too late for Diana Sanders.

He finally looked at Eames. "That's my point. It would have been a useless gesture. Just like Diana's." One he would have made if his partner hadn't stopped him, an idea he'd maybe planted in Diana's mind. Just another useless gesture.

But still your secrets I will keep

You took for granted all the times

I never let you down

You stumbled in and bumped your head

If not for me then you'd be dead

I picked you up and put you back

On solid ground.

Eames straightened up, her expression bitter. "I want to know what it was all about. I want to know why she had to die." She pounded her fist on her knee in frustration. Eames looked at him, eyes hard with determination. "Tomorrow. He'll tell me the whole story tomorrow, or it's finished."

The knot in Goren's stomach tightened further, but he nodded in agreement. They'd come this far together, and they'd face Ross together. He wasn't keen on the idea of leaving MCS, his recent actions to get his shield back after his suspension proved that, but it wouldn't be the same anyway without Eames beside him, so what did it matter? "He's never been exactly forthcoming with reasons in the past."

Eames's mouth tightened. "You think it's a useless gesture?"

Calmly, Goren shook his head. "I think the he hates to lose, and losing this time caused a young woman to die. Maybe he'll feel a need to unburden himself." His mouth quirked into a small smile as he gestured toward the glove box. "If you're gonna confront him, you'll need what's in there."

Reluctantly, Eames opened the compartment and stared for a long moment at its contents. Finally, with a sigh that sounded almost resigned to the inevitable, she reached inside and removed her ID and shield. "Doesn't change anything."

Goren's smile widened. His partner's explosive anger had been defused. He could handle the sulk. He'd been in this situation before, he knew there was a way out.

"What?" The single word sounded accusing. "You're not gonna sit there and tell me this whole mess hasn't gotten to you."

Goren shoved his demon back into the shadows where it belonged. I really don't mind what happens now and then. As long as you'll be my friend in the end. "You win some, you lose some. We're alive to talk about it, and that's what's important. Let Ross worry about the balance sheet."

Eames shook her head in disbelief. "A regular Superman, that's what you think you are."

Goren put on his most innocent expression. "Yeah, got the watch and everything, don't I?"

Eames's sharp laugh was involuntary and quickly quelled. "All you need is the cape, Goren."

"Tried one, but it hid my… charms from the admiring gazes of the ladies."

This time, the laugh came more easily. "All right, you've made your point." Eames slouched more comfortably in the passenger seat. "I don't suppose we could find a quiet place to get a drink at this hour?"

Goren put the car in gear and headed towards downtown. "My place. The blender can be fired up in a second and the margarita's will flow."

"Your place?" Eames sounded faintly doubtful, but Goren still felt it wasn't a good idea to take his partner to a bar, even if he was able think of one that wouldn't be packed at this hour. "We both look like hell, Eames. I think we'd get thrown out of any bar, either of us would want to be seen in."

With a sigh, she agreed, "Your place it is." There was no point in disputing the obvious.

Goren smiled to himself as he turned out of the industrial park onto a major street. Again he was struck by the reversed roles that they had assumed today. He sensed everything was going to work out as it should. He and Eames were going to be okay. Eames would brood, but she would get over it, she'd gotten over worse. Just as he had. As for himself, he wasn't ready to examine the motives that had almost led him to charge senselessly to an early death. His partner had stopped him, put him back on solid ground again just as she'd always done.

Maybe it wasn't a question of a gesture being useless or not, but whether the gesture was made.

I really don't mind what happens now and then

As long as you'll be my friend at the end.