A/N: I know that Barry Moredock is a constitutional lawyer who specializes in First Amendment cases, but I love the character, and John Cullum, the actor who portrays him, so I made allowances so he could represent Bobby. Also I wanted to use Ida Boucher as his trial judge as a tribute to the actress who portrayed her, the late, wonderful Lynne Thigpen.

Green led Goren to his desk and undid the cuffs behind his back. He motioned to the phone, leaning against the desk as Goren dialed. Eames answered on the third ring. "Hey, what came up?"

"Um...Eames, I...I'm in some pretty serious trouble."

"What kind of trouble? Where are you?"

He sighed. "I'm at the 2-7. They, uh, they just arrested me...for murder."

He listened to her stunned silence, which stretched out uncomfortably long. "Eames?"

"M-Murder?"

"Looks like we're getting the blanks filled in about those three hours I'm missing," he said in a lame attempt at a joke.

"Where are they holding you?"

"Here for right now. I, um, I need a lawyer..."

"I'll make some calls and I'll be there within the hour."

"Thank you, Eames."

He set the phone in its cradle and placed his arms behind his back so Green could cuff him again. He looked toward Lupo, who seemed to still be anticipating trouble from him. He sighed and let Green lead him to the holding area. As he removed the cuffs, Green said "We're going to keep you here until your bail hearing, probably tomorrow afternoon."

Goren nodded and sat down on the bunk in the small cell as the door slammed closed with a resounding, metallic clang. Goren leaned back against the wall in the corner of the bunk, rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes.

He had not meant to doze off, and he was surprised that he did. The clang of the cell door opening woke him and he looked blearily at Lupo, who held out a pair of cuffs. "Come on, Goren. Your lawyer is here."

Goren got up off the bed and turned around with his hands behind his back. Lupo closed the cuffs on his wrists and grabbed his arm, leading him to an interrogation room, where Eames waited with an older man, dressed in a suit with a briefcase sitting on the table in front of him.

When the door opened and Lupo led Goren in, Eames got to her feet. She pressed her hand to her mouth and struggled with her emotions.

Lupo removed the cuffs and stepped from the room. Goren rubbed his wrists and as he approached the table, the other man stood up and extended his hand. "Barry Moredock, detective. My specialty is constitutional issues; as a law school professor, I taught constitutional law. But I have had experience as a criminal lawyer and when your partner called me and asked so sweetly, I agreed to represent you."

As he shook Moredock's hand, Goren raised an eyebrow at his partner, who had taken her seat again. He lowered himself into a chair, not taking his eyes from Eames. Finally, he looked at the lawyer. "Thank you, Mr. Moredock."

"Tell me why they arrested you," Moredock said as he removed a legal pad from his briefcase and a pen from the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

Goren's eyes shifted toward Eames. "They found my blood and prints at the scene of a murder."

Moredock began to write. "Do you have an alibi?"

"No, and I can't remember anything about the time they estimate the murder happened."

The lawyer nodded his head slowly, loosened his tie and looked at the partners. "All right, kids. Let's start at the top..."

Jack McCoy had already looked through the file that was in front of him. He had received it just before lunch, and he was reading it carefully, from start to finish, for the third time. Robert Goren...he knew the man by reputation, although he had never met him. Rumor had it he was a brilliant detective and profiler, a reluctant star in the high-profile Major Case Squad who had gotten himself into some trouble late last year, suspended for several months when his mental stability was brought into question. But he had been reinstated so his competency was no longer an issue, officially.

He looked up when Connie Rubirosa entered the office. "I want this detective's personnel file, Connie."

She looked surprised. "You're taking the case, Jack?"

McCoy nodded. "Yes. This isn't going to be an easy one. Why would a man with so much forensic experience leave so much evidence of his presence at the scene of a murder he committed?"

"The lab results from his emergency room visit show a blood alcohol level of .12, in addition to his head injury."

"See if he has any alcohol-related priors, or any kind of criminal charges...assault, excessive force, any kind of violence. When is his bail hearing?"

"This afternoon at five."

He nodded and turned back to the file. "Try to get me his IAB file before then."

She gave him a skeptical look before leaving the office.

Judge Ida Boucher watched Jack McCoy and Barry Moredock square off in front of her, arguing the case for and against bail for a cop charged with murder.

"Your honor," McCoy began. "The people want remand."

Moredock argued, "My client is going nowhere. He has no resources and his only ties are here in New York."

"On the contrary, the defendant has no ties at all, no family, no emotional bonds with anyone. He is a definite flight risk."

"My client is a police officer, never charged before with any kind of violent crime. He has lived in New York all his life and has significant emotional ties to the community. He also has emotional ties to a number of close friends, all in New York. He is determined to clear his name so he can return to doing his job, a job he loves and one he is very good at."

Boucher looked at the file before her, taking into account all indications that this was not a violent man standing before her. She said, "Bail is set at one million dollars, cash or bond."

McCoy accepted the judge's decision, gathering his files. He had doubts as to Goren's ability to raise any bail. The man was going nowhere.

Moredock waited while Goren was cuffed and led out of the courtroom. Eames met him near the back of the courtroom. "A million dollars?" she said, frustrated.

"That's reasonable, considering the nature of the crime he is accused of."

She walked with him out of the courtroom. "Mr. Moredock, I can't come up with that kind of money, and I can't bear the thought of Bobby in Riker's. He's a cop, and he put a lot of people in there. He...he won't live until trial!"

Moredock rested his hand on her arm. "Relax, Alex. I have arranged for him to be in solitary, under protective watch. He'll be all right. I'll talk to you soon."

He squeezed her shoulder and moved past her. Eames remained where she was, thinking, as people scurried past her. Then she hurried down the hall and out of the courthouse.

The next day, Eames went to Riker's to talk to Goren. They led him into the room and uncuffed him. She waved to the guards. "You don't have to stay."

He sat across from her as the guards left the room. "You shouldn't be here, Eames."

"You're the one who shouldn't be here." He looked worn out. "How else am I going to talk to you if I don't come here?"

He shook his head. "Eames..." He let out a heavy breath and rubbed his temple. "Maybe I do...belong here..."

"Come on, Bobby. You didn't hurt anyone."

"I don't know if I did or didn't."

She looked at her hands. She hated his self-deprecating view of himself so she changed the subject. "About your bail, Bobby...we'll have you out of here in the next twenty-four hours."

He stared at her, confused. "Have me out? Eames, my bail is a million dollars."

She nodded. "I know. We have it covered."

"Covered? How? And who is we?"

"Property bonds. My parents have put up their house for a half million, my sister and her husband put up theirs for two hundred and Jim and Angie Deakins put up the remaining three hundred."

He stared at her again, incredulous. He launched himself from his chair, knocking it over as he began to pace, agitated. He started to speak three times, but nothing came to him. Eames was caught off guard by the look of horror on his face. "Bobby...?"

He was shaking his head. "No. No, Eames. I can't let them do that. Thank you, but no thanks. I would rather stay where I am."

"Are you planning to skip bail?"

He was breathing hard. "Of course not, but I still won't have them..."

"It's not your decision, Goren, and it's already in the works. The court already has the papers it needs for my parents' house. My brother-in-law and Jimmy are taking care of the rest. You and I are going to get to the bottom of this, and Logan is going to help us. So calm your ass down and deal with it."

After a few more minutes, he did sit down, but his agitation had not decreased and his face was a study in misery. "I...can't repay any of you..."

"You don't have to and we don't expect anything from you. It's a secure deal, Bobby. No one is risking anything." She sighed. "Jack McCoy is prosecuting your case. He's already gotten your personnel jacket and your IAB file. Logan said he also ran a background on you, looking for priors."

"There's nothing to find, Eames."

"He's going to get your Army records, too."

"Like I said, there's nothing to find."

She shifted in her seat. "What about her?"

"Her who?"

"Lorraine Hodges. Eddie Green said you knew her."

He nodded. "Knew, Eames. I haven't seen her for a very long time."

"So a background check of her won't bring up any ties to you?"

"I don't see how. We were friends and nothing more."

Eames looked at her hands, picking at a hangnail on her thumb. "Bobby, her husband is claiming you had an affair with her. He said he saw you with her, and when he demanded she end it, she did not deny it was you. He claims you killed her when she tried to break it off."

"What? That's crazy. I don't know who he saw, but it wasn't me. I never met the man and I haven't seen Lori in the last eight years."

She leaned closer. "How can you explain your prints at her house and your blood in her bedroom?"

He averted his eyes, struggling with his own emotions. "I...I can't, Alex."

The despair in his voice touched her heart. She reached out and touched his hand. He started to withdraw it, but she grabbed hold before he could pull it completely away. He looked down as her thumb stroked the back of his hand. Silently, he lowered his head and rested it on their joined hands. With her other hand, she gently stroked his hair. His shoulders shook and she laid her head against his, caressing his neck with her fingers, comforting, because she was at a loss over what else she could do for him. Her own tears spilled unnoticed into his hair, and neither of them moved for a long time.