Goren exhaled.

He began to unwind. Home after a long day. Eames stayed on his mind. Blazed onto his thoughts like a mental tattoo. He could still feel the wheels in her mind turning, when she decided which folder to select. This is what excited him. How she tortured herself, racking her brain for the right answer. It was like he set a puzzle before her and got to watch her put it all together.

He relaxed into his couch. Now wearing a white undershirt and sweats.

His desire for her had been smoldering for years. Yet, it wasn't until that Sunday morning, when he caught her looking through his desk drawers, that anything came to the surface. Robert Goren stood as the model for self-control...sexual restraint. Only those who knew him very well could see his feelings for her...Frank....his mother.

But he was sure to grab her wrist that Sunday. His fingertips firmly on her pulse point. He knew. He knew when he felt her small wrist flutter in his hand at the sound of his words, don't do it again.

Eames got into bed early. Refusing to succumb to another sleepless night. The folder she selected earlier in the day was empty. She had no idea what this meant, or if she would ever receive whatever it was he had for her.

She pulled the covers over her body, rubbing her thighs together under the sheets.

It was 4:17 am. Goren leaned against his bedroom wall. Cellphone in hand.

Eames heard her ringtone. Muffled under the sheets at the end of her bed. She didn't want to pick up. She opened one eye to look at the clock. 4 am? It could be an emergency. She whined silently to herself and flipped open her cell.

"Hello?" her voice groggy with sleep. She didn't even look to see who was calling. She heard Bobby's voice.

"Eames."

"Hello?"

"Eames."

"I'm here, hello?"

Goren swallowed hard. Steadying his hand by pushing it against his stomach.

'Will you do something for me?" his voice carried a late-night rasp. He waited on her to answer.

Eames went the safe route, "What do you need?"

He answered her quickly, "Yes or no?"

She held her breath, realizing she was now fully awake, "....yes."

Goren's fingers wrapped more tightly around the phone. He evened his breath. But his voice gave him away, laden with a dark sexual tension.

"Tomorrow. Wear a white blouse..." he exhaled slowly, "unbutton the top-three buttons...and a black skirt that stops...three and a half inches above your knee.." his voice so low and gruff it reminded her of phone sex. Her body responded in kind. She lay back into her bed, holding the phone as close to her ear as she could.

"...and black pantyhose-the-the sheer kind..." Goren bit his lip hard, refusing to stutter or seem off balance, sometimes his mind moved so quickly, his lips and body couldn't keep up. The end result was all his little ticks.

"...and black patent leather heels...w-with ankle straps." he finished. Adding sternly, "Okay?", waiting for her response.

"Ok." Quiet and sweet.

And before she could say anything else or change her mind. He hung up the phone. Leaning against his bedroom wall for strength.

When she arrived at work, his desk was empty. She smoothed her white shirt with her hands and casually looked around the squad room for his lanky frame. No signs of him. She settled into her desk, pushing away small feelings of disappointment.

Something had to explain where he was. She checked his desk for signs he had even been into the office. Then she saw it.

Another white envelope, peeking underneath some files on his desk. Eames fought with herself. She knew she wasn't supposed to go through his things. This he had made very very clear. But her detective side insisted. She decided if she were going to move, to do so quickly. Goren had a way of just materializing at the most inopportune moments.

She pulled the envelope out and brought it to her body. Looking quickly to her left and right. She opened it, a small piece of white paper was inside folded in half. In black ink, it read.

Eames,

I'm at the library. If you are properly dressed....meet me there.

Bobby

She felt a flutter of excitement inside. Followed quickly by a wave of disappointment, leaving her bittersweet. He didn't say which library. There were hundreds in the city and at least a few dozen she could envision him in, for one reason or another.

She sat still in her chair trying to determine her next move. The library downtown had private study rooms, she decided to start there and then work her way back uptown if need be.

When she approached the study rooms and saw Bobby inside the one farthest from the doors, she felt a wave of relief. At least she wouldn't be roaming libraries all day. He was reading intently, headphones in. She stopped just outside the glass, hoping to catch his eye, she didn't. She knew that look on him. Tunnel vision.

She opened the door and slid inside. Standing before him, his eyes now meeting hers. She heard his music blaring through his headphones. He slipped them off his head. She couldn't decide if he was pleased to see her or not. His face seemed unreadable. He ran his fingers roughly across his lips and then rubbed the back of his neck. She said nothing, standing before him in her white blouse, black skirt, stockings and pumps..with ankle straps.

"Eames...."

His voice seemed to hold every particle in the room captive.

"We have two problems here.... One, the only way you could have found me here....is if you were going through my things..."

Eames felt stunned, she couldn't believe she didn't think of it. She felt tricked and mildly embarrassed she let her excitement get the best of her. He voice was a mix of measured anger and lust.

"And two...that's not three and a half inches above the knee."

Eames opened her mouth to speak, but Bobby raised his hand to stop her.

"You don't believe me? I'll prove it to you." He flipped through his leather notebook, rustling through his papers and photographs, quickly removing something black, "I'll prove it to you, Eames."

He got up from his seat and walked around the table until he was a few inches in front of her.

"Bobby-" her words were cut off as the flesh on her thighs flashed with a stinging heat. Followed by a long slicing pressure. She looked down. Goren was holding a black ruler along her thigh, measuring the distance between the top of her knee and the bottom of her skirt. Two and three-quarters inches. He took a step back, eying her then started a slow prowl, circling her body with his long strides, she turned her neck, following him around her body over and over again. Saying nothing. He seemed to be making a mental assessment of her appearance.

Then he spoke to her, his voice low, fighting through his clenched jaw.

"I find it hard to believe....you can't follow simple instructions." A pause, "Are you stupid?"

Eames felt herself tighten on the inside. Was he trying to make her feel bad? She did all of this for him. She clenched her lips tight, now staring straight ahead. Goren leaned, crooked his neck and then launched forward, standing close enough to her, to invade her personal space....make her uncomfortable...but not to touch.

"Well, are you? Eames? Are you stupid?"

"No" her voice cold.

He took a long stride behind her, leaning forward, placing his head next to hers, bending his neck.

"Hm-" he took in the smell of her, feeling his insides heat, "then you're just...disobedient."

He was across the room in moments, closing the blinds over the study room window, that overlooked rows and rows of library books. He said to her, while is back was turned, drawing the blinds shut,

"Sit on the edge of the desk."

Eames obeyed, despite small feelings of reluctance. She didn't appreciate him implying she was stupid..yet...she could admit to herself it was foolish to show up based on information that required snooping, when she just wrote line after line about not touching his things. She sat on the cold desk, knees together.

Goren stepped in front of her, ruler still in hand. His eyes met hers. Power illuminated his. She felt like she could melt into a puddle on the top of the desk and slip into a pool on the floor at his feet.

He motioned the ruler over her knee, moving back and forth with a saw-like motion. Tortuously slow. Using the corner of the ruler to drag across her skin. Snagging her stockings. He slipped the ruler down her inner thigh, motioning now with the object as if he were penetrating her. Rocking slowly with continuous stroking. He tapped lightly on the insides of her thighs. Eencouraging her to spread her legs. She did.

Now he slipped the ruler just under her skirt. Holding it there. His eyes pulled her in as his gaze demanded steady eye contact. She felt, but didn't see, his hand pull roughly at her hip. Then her skirt was hiked up, he looked down at the ruler again. This time so did she. Three and a half inches. She felt a sting of pain as he slapped the ruler across her thighs.

"Eames-" his voice shaking lightly, face lightly flushed, "this is correct."

He slapped her thighs with the ruler again, "next time...." another swipe, "I say three and a half inches.." the next blow was the hardest, causing her to whimper now, her skin hot and tingling under the thin layer of nylon"..this is what I mean."

He exhaled slow, his eyes focused on the ruler in his hand. The red blush creeping to her thighs, through the veil of sheer black wrapped around them.