A.N. This is my first attempt at a story. The ending of "Smile" bothered me so much, I had to get the angst out of my system. I don't own them, they belong to Mr. Wolf, and a good thing, too, because there would be a missing persons report on Eames just about now.

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She had been waiting in the SUV for about 15 minutes, wondering what he could be doing, when one of the uniforms approached.

"Detective Eames?"

"Hi, Nelson. What's up?"

"Not much. Detective Goren asked me to tell you he was going to catch the train back up to downtown."

She sat there for a several seconds, somewhat stunned by the fact that Bobby had left on his own, without saying something to her himself.

"Detective? You all right?"

"What – Oh, yeah, Nelson, fine. OK. Thanks for letting me know."

"Not a problem", Nelson said, waving to her as he headed back to his cruiser.

Eames continued to sit there, thinking back over the events of the last couple of hours. She had been stressed going into this case, after their last one where the man who had really killed Joe was finally in custody. At first, she had been truly upset with Bobby's pushing the issue, but now, after the event, she was glad he had done so, painful as it had been for her. Because of the pressure on NYPD detectives to find Joe's killer, and the lies told by one of drug dealers involved in the undercover buy Joe was working at the time, the wrong man had spent 9 years in prison, and his 18 year old son had thrown his own life away by seeking revenge on the dealer and on Joe's partner, Kevin, who had backed the lies told by the dealer as to who had shot Joe. It was Bobby who had ultimately broken both cases, and she freely admitted to herself that she had tried to deter and obstruct him, giving him a terribly hard time throughout the investigation, both because she was too close to the issue and because she, as the daughter and granddaughter of cops, had a hard time accepting that cops, too, can lie and make mistakes.

She should have taken some time off afterward. She knew that now. But before she could make the request, this case had come in, and they found themselves investigating a coverup involving tainted mouthwash that young children were drinking for a cheap "high" because of the alcohol content. Unfortunately, the dentist had received a donation of knock-off mouthwash made overseas and had used it as a sample in "goodie" bags he passed out to children who came into his dental clinic. The mouthwash company had finally recalled its own product from the market in order to eliminate the knock-off from sales because it contained anti-freeze used as a sweetner, but the owner of a small grocery store who had bought a large supply of the fake mouthwash had donated it to the dentist for a tax break, and three children had died as a result. The cases involving children were always the hardest on her, and, she knew, on Bobby, too.

She finally started the SUV and headed back to 1PP herself, thinking about how Leslie had attempted to play Bobby, trying to make him think she was acting as a "whistleblower", when all she really wanted was her boss's job. And to get it, she was willing to lie, conceal information and to kill. She realized now that Bobby wasn't buying it, that he thought there was something "off " about Leslie, but she had to admit, she wasn't over the stress of the case involving Joe's killer, and she was mentally tired and not thinking clearly. She really thought Bobby was falling for Leslie's act, and was in some way attracted to her. She also realized now that she herself had hurt Bobby terribly.

Leslie's outburst caught her by surprise. Leslie had ranted at them, telling Bobby he would never make senior partner, and that she herself would be brought down by Bobby's insubordination and instability. Nor would she ever make captain. Like she cared. And she knew that all Bobby wanted to do was the job, catch the bad guys – when Bishop had been Bobby's temporary partner during her own maternity leave, Bobby had been the senior partner, and hated every minute of it.

And Bobby's question about whether she felt that being partnered with Bobby had tainted her own career had also caught her off guard. Yeah, before she wrote the letter, she had worried about it, and that's why she wrote the letter in the first place. But after she withdrew the request for a new partner, she never gave it another moment's thought, and now couldn't imagine herself ever working with anyone else. That was what she had really meant by her response, "it's too late" – too late for her to go back to working with someone conventional, someone who followed the rule book and towed the line. No matter what the NYPD said about following its rules and regulations, ultimately it was results they wanted, and she and Bobby did get results, no doubt about that.

As she drove, she chewed her lower lip and thought about what she was going to say to Bobby back at 1PP. She needed to explain what she meant, that she hadn't meant to hurt him, that she didn't consider her career to be tainted by him, but rather, enriched by him. After all, she hadn't taken this job to be noticed.

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Walking into the squad room, she looked around, but didn't see Bobby anywhere. Hanging up her jacket, she started to cross the room to her desk, only to see Captain Ross beckoning to her from his glass-walled office.

Entering the office, Captain Ross rose from his chair, walking around the desk to sit on its corner, as was his habit when talking to his detectives. "Shut the door, Eames".

Puzzled, Eames did as he asked, and sat down in the chair he gestured to. "Captain? Is something wrong?"

"Your partner called in. Why didn't he ride back with you?"

Looking down at her hands, Eames sighed. "I ------- said something to him that hurt his feelings, Captain. Pretty badly, apparently."

"What?"

Heaving another sigh, Eames launched into an explanation of what had transpired at the offices of the mouthwash company. Ross listened attentively, arms folded across his chest, until she finished. He didn't say anything for several minutes, and she finally asked, "Captain? What did Bobby say?"

Ross looked at her for several more seconds before he said, "Goren said he would be by later this evening with his paperwork on the case. Then, he asked for the last two weeks of his personal leave, which I OKed. And he asked me to give you a message."

Eames could feel a lump forming in the pit of her stomach, as well as one in her throat. "What's the message, Captain?"

Ross looked at her again for a short time before sighing, rising from his seat on the corner of his desk, and walking over to sit in the chair next to her. "He asked me to tell you that it was never his intention to drag you down or to keep you from pursuing your ambitions because you were forced into partnership with him. To advise you of his decision to take his last two weeks of personal leave, and to ask you not to try to contact him during that time……and that he would be exploring other options regarding his own career during the remainder of his leave."

Ross watched, somewhat alarmed, as the color drained from Eames' face. "Eames? Are you all right?"

Eames just looked at him, stricken. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. "He asked for a transfer out of Major Case?"

Ross nodded. 'After he told me what had happened at the company offices, he requested a transfer, if he doesn't resign from the NYPD altogether."

God, this was just getting worse. "Resign? Bobby loves being a cop, Captain. He loves Major Case." She looked at him with tears in her eyes, something Ross had never seen, even when she had been dealing with the case involving her own husband's murder. "What have I done?"

Ross got up from his chair, walking around to sit behind his desk once again. "It's been a rough couple of weeks for both of you, Eames, especially for Goren, since he's still grieving about his mom. After what the Chief of D's told Teresa Quinn at the funeral home --- "

Eames, who had risen from her chair and was pacing in the small area in front of Ross' desk, stopped mid-stride and looked at Ross, confusion written all over her small features. "What did he tell Teresa?"

"Goren didn't tell you?"

"No. How would he know what the Chief said, anyway? He wouldn't come inside at the funeral home. He said he didn't have many friends in there."

Ross looked at his hands. He had been standing there when the Chief said it, and had heard from another officer who had been standing outside smoking and overheard what Quinn's son said to Goren. The officer, not realizing who Ross was, had laughed about the kid telling Goren what the Chief said, and Ross had given him a dressing down the man wouldn't soon forget. While he freely admitted to still being somewhat leery of Goren's methods, he had come to realize that Goren truly did understand human nature and was deeply ethical in his outlook and methods. The fact that someone in a position of authority such as the Chief had said what he did about Goren, in public, truly pissed him off. Looking back at Eames, and sighing once again, he told her, "The Chief, at the funeral home last week, told Teresa that Goren was a whack job. Teresa's son overheard what was said, and while riding his skateboard outside, bumped into Goren and asked him if he knew the detective who let his father's killer go free, and said the Chief had told his mom that detective was a whack job."

Ross didn't think it possible, but Eames got even paler, and sank back down into the chair where she had been sitting. "Oh, no. He asked me how it was inside, and after I told him how hard it was, he only said he wasn't too popular outside, either. Captain --- " Eames paused for a deep breath --- "I was so sunk in my own misery – I hadn't seen anyone there since Joe died. After everything quieted down, there wasn't a place for me in that crowd anymore. They stopped calling, or including me --- " She stopped again, unable to go on for the moment.

Looking at her sympathetically, Ross said quietly, "So, you know how Goren feels about being a misfit, or an outcast."

Startled, Eames looked up at Ross. "I --- never thought of it quite that way, Captain. But yeah, I guess I do, at least to some degree." She thought for a minute, and then said, "The Chief was here listening in when Delgado's son confessed. He should have apologized to Bobby."

Ross snorted. "Eames, the brass do not apologize to anyone. You should know that by now." Studying her, Ross leaned back in his chair. "So then, Eames. Tell me, do you think having Goren as a partner has tainted your career?"

"I could have asked for a transfer or put in a request for another partner at any time, Captain. In fact, I did do that once."

"Yes, I know."

She was quiet for a moment, looking down at the floor. Then she said, almost inaudibly, "I hurt Bobby that time, too."

"He got over it."

Looking back up at Ross, she said, just as quietly, "He won't get over it again."

Once again getting up from his desk, Ross again perched on the corner. "Maybe not, Eames. But I'm going to tell you the same thing I told him. File your paperwork – you can do it at home, like Goren, drop it off tomorrow – and take two weeks, too. You need a break from the Quinn case, this case, and from each other. No contact. Then, before any permanent decisions are made, we will have a meeting and see if this can all be worked out."

Nodding, Eames rose. "Sounds like a plan, Captain. Will you do me a favor, though?"

"If I can."

"Will you talk to Bobby in a day or two, and let me know how he is?"

The ghost of a smile crossed Ross's lips. "Funny. He asked the same favor of me."

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Entering his apartment, Bobby dropped his keys on the counter dividing the kitchen from the living area, laid his badge down beside them, and put his binder on his desk next to his computer. He was tired, so tired. Numb. Numb was good, at least until he could get the case paperwork done and dropped off back at Major Case. Deciding to take a quick shower and put on something more comfortable, he wandered into his bedroom, removing his tie as he went. On autopilot, he hung up his suit jacket and tie, sitting down on the bed to remove his shoes, placing them neatly side by side on the floor of his closet as though their placement was the most important thing in the world. He removed his cuff links, placing them in the box on his dresser, putting his shirt in the laundry bag and hanging his slacks up with the same meticulous care he had shown with his jacket. Don't think, don't think, keep occupied --- his mind repeated, over and over. He knew if he stopped for a minute to consider the day's events, he wasn't sure he'd be able to function any better than he had immediately after his mother died, and he had found himself alone to deal with her deathbed revelation about his questionable parentage. Something else he hadn't fully processed yet.

After a quick, hot shower, he dressed in an old comfortable pair of jeans and a well-worn, soft sweatshirt. Sitting down at his desk, he booted up his computer and dealt with the case paperwork as quickly as he could, trying not to dwell on anything beyond filling out the forms correctly and putting his case notes down on paper without considering anything deeper than being as concise and accurate as possible. He worked as quickly and efficiently as he could for about an hour and a half, then printed it all out, reviewed it and signed where necessary.

Gathering everything back into his binder, he pulled a leather jacket from the closet, slipping his badge and keys into the pocket and his weapon into a clip on holster he attached to his belt at the small of his back. Picking up his cell phone, he dialed.

'Major Case, Sanchez."

"Sanchez, Goren".

"Hey, Bobby. You just missed Eames."

Sighing with relief, because missing Eames, at least physically, was his intention, he asked, "Is Ross still there?"

"Nope. He and Eames were in his office for a good hour talking, and when they came out, he left. Eames cleaned her desk off, and she headed out about 20 minutes ago. Did you need something?"

"No, thanks. I'm going to stop in myself in about 20 to drop off some paperwork. Thanks, Sanchez."

"Later, Bobby."

Closing the phone and dropping it into his pocket, Bobby picked up his binder and headed out the door. Don't think, don't think, keep occupied ------

He walked into the squad room, waving at Sanchez across the room, entering Ross's office and dropping the paperwork on his desk. Crossing the room to his own desk, he starting checking through the paperwork there, filing some of it away, stopping to complete and sign a form here and there and putting them into his outbox, which he knew administrative support would empty in the morning, seeing to it that they got to the next person in the chain.

Once he had cleared his desk of paperwork, he went to the supply closet, where he knew he could find a box to put his books in to carry to his car. Relieved that no one was paying attention to him, Bobby quickly packed up his reference books and the very few other personal items he had in his desk, and without stopping to say anything to anyone, headed for the elevators. He never looked back.

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Eames was laying on her couch, wrapped in an old, worn afghan her mother had made for her and Joe during the early days of their marriage. The television was on, its sound low, but she wasn't paying any attention to what was on the screen. She had come directly home from 1PP, and, like Bobby, showered and changed, then disposed of the case paperwork, putting it into a folder in her briefcase to drop off at Major Case in the morning. Turning off the lights, she had wrapped herself up and lay down, hoping to bore herself to sleep with some mindless TV, but so far sleep was eluding her. She kept flashing back to the expression on Bobby's face and in his eyes when she had told him it was too late. A quick flash of what could only be called anguish, and then his expression had blanked; she herself had quickly turned away to talk to the uniforms about Leslie's transport to holding.

She had just closed her eyes, hoping that if she did she would begin to relax and drop into sleep, when her cell phone rang. Groaning softly, hoping it was and also that it was not Bobby, she was surprised to see the Major Case number on her caller I.D., knowing that Ross had taken her and Goren off the call out list for the next couple of weeks.

"Eames".

"Hey, Alex, it's Sanchez. I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"Hi, Carlos. No, I'm just here on the couch watching TV. What's up?"

"Bobby was here a little while ago --- "

"I know, he was going to drop off some paperwork. Why?"

"What's going on with him?"

Swallowing the lump that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her throat, she said, "Why do you ask?"

"Because when he left – he took all his stuff."

At that, Alex sat up on the couch. "What do you mean, all his stuff, Carlos?"

"You know, his stuff. His books, and his little gadgets he keeps in his desk."

Oh, my God. He really means it ----

Sighing, and trying to keep the tremor from her voice, she said, "Carlos, do me a favor?"

"Sure, Alex."

"Bobby's taking the rest of his personal leave from his mom's death. I'm taking some time, too -- the last couple of cases we handled were pretty tough."

'I hear that, Alex. You really kept it together on the Quinn thing, and I know Bobby was upset, too, because he had to dig into Joe's case to get the guys. You know Bobby would never do anything to hurt you deliberately, Alex."

Taking a deep breath, Alex replied, "I know, Carlos. And the truth is, between you and me --- "

"I won't say a word, Alex."

"I know. I said something stupid today that really hurt Bobby's feelings, and --- well – he thinks he's hurt me just by being my partner. We have to get it worked out, but Ross wants us to have a break from work and from each other."

"Geez, Alex – I don't know what to say – but I hope you can, and do. I'd hate to see either of you leave Major Case, or have to have a new partner. I don't think Bobby could handle it without you."

"Truth is, Carlos – I don't think I could handle it without Bobby, either."

"Well, get some rest, Alex. You both deserve a break, you've been through a lot lately."

"Thanks, Carlos. Talk to you soon".

"Night, Alex."

Closing up the phone, she put it down on the table, then picked it up again, deciding she should let Ross know about this latest development. Pushing speed dial 2, she waited – "Ross".

"Captain, it's Eames." She couldn't quite keep the tremor from her voice this time.

"What happened, Eames?"

Swallowing hard, she said, "I just got a call from Sanchez at Major Case. When Bobby dropped off his paperwork, Carlos said he packed up his books and gadgets and left."

It was quiet on the other end for a moment, and then Ross said, "OK. Thanks for letting me know. I'll call Goren in the morning and see how he is, see if I can get him to open up any more, and then I'll call you with an update."

"OK, Captain. Sorry to bother you this late."

"Don't worry about that, Eames. In fact, try not to worry, all right?"

"Easier said than done, Captain. Good night."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, Eames."

Once again putting the phone down on the table, Alex did something she hadn't done much of since Joe died. She cried.