A/N… This has taken me a little longer to post because I came up with this great idea and decided to re-do this chapter.

Yes, Bobby and Alex eating Chinese food again (they're in New York…who there doesn't eat Chinese food more than once a week?) At least I didn't deprive them of fortune cookies this time! And these aren't just any fortune cookies… They're specifically chosen from a group of actual fortunes and give some 'hints' at what's to come! ;) I put their fortunes in italics.

One of their fortunes had me bouncing in my chair, clapping my hands, saying 'OMG this is perfect!' The scene was written long before the fortune cookie idea, in other words. I can't say which one it is right now. It applies to a later chapter and I've already made note to let you know at the start of that chapter.

Again, Mike and Carolyn are in this fic. This chapter begins one day before 'the incident.' I made up this restaurant, they needed some privacy.

Reminder… This story IS B/A! We will get there! This chapter is cute and they flirt (harmlessly) at times, but there is a process. Stick with me, this ride is going to be SO much fun!

. . .

x.x.x.x.x

Alex's POV

~Past~ (Wednesday)

It was lunchtime, and Bobby and I had opted for one of my favorite restaurants in Chinatown, The Port of Shanghai. In the center of the restaurant, there were a lot of indoor plants and trees, rock fountains, and aquariums, which made the setting very relaxing. Plus, it was rather private. The tables weren't spaced too closely together, and you really couldn't hear the other conversations over the fountains and background music.

I had ordered Pad Thai with chicken and Bobby got the Mu Shu pork. As usual, we ate from each other's entrees.

We were discussing our latest case.

Early yesterday morning, Edward Bressle, a Corporate Executive at Chase Manhattan, was found murdered in his office.

Bressle was also involved in politics. There had been news recently that he was gearing up to run for public office.

Besides politics and Chase, he was also involved in day trading. He handled stock investments for a few personal clients and received a percentage of their earnings.

Rodgers reported that the cause of death was a gunshot wound to the skull, and time of death was between midnight and 2:00am on Tuesday morning.

The tapes from the security cameras at Chase were still under review. The finger prints around the crime scene all belonged to Bressle or those he worked with. Most of them so far had alibis.

Unfortunately, we were still undecided on motive and had no solid leads.

The last person to see Bressle alive was someone from the cleaning crew, who happened to be on break and saw him leave Starbucks at around 10:30pm on Monday night. He was headed back toward the Chase building on foot.

At first glance, we found no evidence that anything in his office had been disturbed, although, depending on Bressle's association with the perp, he or she might have known what to look for.

Bressle did have access to corporate and personal records, and bank accounts. Chase was still busy doing security checks on a few accounts to make certain that important information hadn't leaked out somewhere.

Everyone described him as extremely money-driven and a workaholic. Most of the people at Chase thought he was arrogant, controlling and difficult to get along with. But no one knew corporate finance better than Bressle, so his job was secure.

Since his political and day trading activities took priority, he was at Chase two days a week, and mostly just as a consultant. He made sure that he could conduct all business activities from either his Chase office, his political office in SoHo or his residence in Queens.

Bressle had two children and was separated from his wife, but they had not yet decided to file for divorce. Bressle's wife, Lynnette was away visiting family when he was killed, but she returned early this morning to begin making funeral arrangements. Bobby and I had spent the morning in court on another case, so Mike and Carolyn met with her. Lynnette seemed rather upset by the news, although we weren't ready to dismiss her as a possible co-conspirator.

Bressle's lawyer was currently out of town, but we had a call in to his office and were awaiting a call back.

After lunch, we planned to talk to more of his political contacts.

. . .

x.x.x.x.x

Bobby was in the process of filling me in on his earlier phone conversation with Logan, concerning Lynnette Bressle.

He finished a thought, and then seemed pensive for about a minute.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.

"Logan mentioned one other thing. Bressle's brother, William, had been in some trouble a few years back. Drugs and gun possession mostly. Said that Bressle had to bail him out a couple of times, but then he cut him off. There hasn't been much contact between the brothers in a while. Maybe William's in trouble again? I don't know. My hunch is that there isn't a family angle to this case, but…," Bobby stopped mid-sentence and shrugged, then resumed eating.

"Did he say whether Lynnette seemed nervous or suspicious about this brother?"

He swallowed his bite and then answered. "She was upset all around, but it was her that brought this up. I think I'd like to size her up a bit."

I nodded. "There weren't any threats made toward his family before this incident, right?"

"Right," he confirmed.

"Do we know where William is now?" I asked.

"Trenton."

"Is he in prison there?"

"No. Want to pay him a visit?"

"Maybe. But if we're back to suspecting family members, I'd want to start with Lynnette. The lawyer should get back to us soon. Let's see what he has to say, first."

. . .

x.x.x.x.x

I finished the last bite, and put my napkin down. The waiter took our plates, and then came back with the bill and the fortune cookies.

"They gave us four fortune cookies this time?" he questioned.

I shrugged, picked up two cookies and offered the other two to Bobby.

He opened and started reading the first one.

"What's yours say," I asked, as I started to open one of mine.

"Depart not from the path which fate has you assigned," he read.

"Interesting," I remarked.

"And a little ominous. Okay, how about yours?"

I read it silently a few times and couldn't help grinning. "Stop searching forever, happiness is just next to you," I read aloud. Then I handed it over to show him. Interestingly, we wound up sitting beside (rather than across from) each other at a table for four.

Bobby took the little piece of paper from me , read it and smiled. "And either one of us could have got this one," he said, nudging my arm as he handed it back.

I continued to grin. "Okay, your turn."

Bobby opened and read his last one. "He who knows he has enough is rich."

That brought my mind back to the case. "I just had a thought. Bressle kept to himself and probably only a handful of people knew his business."

"Right."

"What if he had some sort of financial problems or a bad investment in the recent past that no one else really knew about?"

Bobby considered it for a second. "Could have stolen money to pay someone off or maybe to fund his political plans."

I sighed. "But if his lawyer doesn't know or won't tell us, then we're left to searching his personal files and everything he's done on paper for the past few weeks." We had already gathered his personal files and any relevant client files, as well as emails, letters and such. If nothing else panned out this afternoon, that would be the next place we planned to look.

"Last one," he said, pointing to the other cookie.

I opened it and read it. "It is better to deal with problems before they arise."

Ouch.

I instantly felt that one in the pit of my stomach. It pulled my thoughts off into another direction.

Bobby nudged me after a while. "You okay? Where'd you go?"

"Just thinking…"

"Something else about the case?"

"No, just…other things."

"Joe?" he asked.

He was right. Of course, there wasn't much else in my life to choose from.

"Sorry, I'm prying. Never mind," he said, withdrawing his question.

"No, Bobby. You're not prying."

"Everything okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah. Oh…" Bobby reminded me of something else and I pulled out my wallet.

Bobby eyed the bill on the table. "No, Eames. I said I had this." He checked the amount, took out his wallet and then handed the bill and cash to the waiter as he walked up.

"Thanks. But it's not that. Joe owed you some money." I handed him the $60 that he loaned to Joe two days ago. "Thanks again."

"No problem," he replied, shoving the bills into his wallet. He remained focused on me, still trying to assess what was wrong.

"He's had a rough couple of assignments recently," I explained. "So we've kind of been at each other's throats over this and that."

Bobby nodded. "You two probably need some time off. Maybe a little vacation?"

"I'm fine, but he could use one."

He shook his head. "Joe won't go without you."

I shrugged. "I don't know… He might."

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know, Doc. What do you charge by the hour?" I teased.

He grinned and nudged me again. "You're already paid up."

I hesitated for a minute on the next part. He probably didn't need to hear this, but at the same time, I needed a friend. It's not like he'd ever refuse. Bobby's always been a great listener and it was easy to lean on him when the need arose.

I delayed until the waiter returned with Bobby's change and then left us alone. "As I said, Joe's been uptight for the past few days. He's barely slept. You saw him Monday night," I reminded him. When Joe arrived at the bar, he mentioned to the group that he needed 'to drink heavily and forget the past few days.'

I leaned a little closer and continued. "I suspected that I might be pregnant and I told him this last night."

Bobby's eyes widened. "Really? Eames, you're…"

"No, I'm not," I quickly corrected him. Fortunately, I was just late.

I continued. "It turned out to be a false alarm. I probably should have taken a test and confirmed it before saying anything. Or…maybe just not said anything at all, since it was negative. I thought I could just tell him regardless."

He nodded. "Of course. He's your husband."

"And maybe I was a little curious as to what his response would be. Anyway, we fought about it last night. After he stormed out, I went to the drug store and got the test. I called Joe and told him, but we're still on shaky ground."

He shrugged. "He doesn't think he's ready to be a dad?"

"No. And I'm not exactly ready to be a mom, either. But if it had happened, I wouldn't have been that upset. I'd do what I had to do to prepare for the baby."

"And you're afraid he'd leave you if you got pregnant," he remarked, reading my thoughts.

"Pretty much."

Bobby held my gaze. "Joe would not leave."

"You're that sure about it?" I asked him. Sure, he knew Joe pretty well. Joe and Bobby got along and there was a mutual respect. But they didn't have that much in common.

I should have given Bobby the benefit of the doubt, though. For one thing, he was a good judge of character. He would always give me a straight answer while I was bogged down by my own worst fears.

But that fight was just hours ago and it's hard to forget what was said.

He sighed. "He would do anything for you. I'm not saying that he wouldn't be scared, or that there wouldn't be disputes. But he wouldn't just walk away."

I gazed idly at the two fortunes that lay open on the table in front of me.

"It's easy to have a swayed viewpoint when you spend so much time around men who have a lot more bad points than good," he remarked. "Present company included," he added with a smirk."

I glanced up at him. "I thought you were supposed to be the 'happiness' next to me?"

"I'm the 'whack job' next to you. But maybe the fortune cookie writers didn't think that had the same ring to it," he said with a smirk.

I laughed.

"You remember that I read people's responses and body language for a living, right?"

"I think I've heard gossip to that effect before, yes," I teased him.

He made sure he held my gaze as he spoke. "I have no doubts. Joe would not leave if you got pregnant."

"Okay…"

"I know why you're nervous. I've seen him flip out a few times and he has a hard time letting go of things. But he'll eventually come around. You two will get past this."

"Thanks, Bobby."

"Anytime," he smiled. He picked up his binder from the table. "Ready to go?"

"Sure." We got up from the table, gathered our coats and things, and Bobby started on ahead of me.

I stopped for a second, turned, and glanced back at the four fortunes laying on the table. After a moment, I picked them up, shoved them into my purse, and moved quickly to catch up with Bobby.

TBC…