A/N: Just some fun before the case takes a dark turn....

As the day wore on, Eames noticed that her partner began to bury himself more deeply in the file on his desk. To him, there was no such thing as a senseless crime or one without motive. No one did anything ''just because." People were always driven to whatever they did by a motive of some kind, good or bad, and he did not handle it well when he could not find that motive.

Deakins had gone home to enjoy time with his daughters, who were home from school, and the squad room was quiet. Only a few busy souls sat at their desks with active files. Goren was studying the photos from the scene with enough intensity to still the perpetual motion of his body, and Eames decided he'd gone far enough down the path into this perp's mind for the night.

Rising from her chair, she walked around the desks and slid the file from in front of him. He sat back in his chair and looked at her, his expression one of mixed confusion and protest. "Not a word," she warned. "I'm hungry and I swear I'll take a bite out of you if we don't leave right now to get something to eat."

His expression changed and lightened. After looking around, he turned his attention back to her and, with a mischievous grin, answered, "Is that a promise?"

"Only if it gets us out of here faster."

He began to gather the file, but she took it away from him. "Oh, no, you don't. I am not spending the night looking at crime scene photos. This file stays in your desk."

When she saw the protest brewing in his eyes, she leaned a little closer. "Either the file goes home with you, or I do. Not both."

She was pleased when he put no thought into making the choice. The file went into his desk drawer and he was ready to leave. With a satisfied smile, she fell in step beside him and they walked away from their desks.

As they stepped onto the elevator, Goren said, "I asked Macy to prepare a sketch of the victim to release to the media on Monday."

She nodded her approval and then said, "New ground rule: when I haven't eaten all day on a day we should have off, do not discuss case details until I have food in my stomach."

He seemed to give that consideration. "When can I discuss it with you?"

She gave her answer equal consideration. "Pillow talk," she answered. "Unless I'm too tired."

"How likely is that?"

"That depends on you," she answered.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I really enjoy the exhaustion that can overtake any kind of pillow talk. I can also make things very uncomfortable for you before we make it home, so if I were you, I'd leave work at work, unless it's something vital to solving the case."

"But..."

"No buts," she warned.

To emphasize that she meant business, she slipped her hand inside his jacket and dragged her nails across his back, just above his belt. He closed his eyes, gasped and, with great effort, forced his knees not to buckle. He growled her name as the doors opened into the parking garage, which was mostly deserted. She looked over her shoulder at him, her expression almost innocent. "What's wrong?"

His jaw was tight as he followed her to her car. As she turned to walk alongside the car to the driver's door, he leaned in and answered, "Don't think I can't make you just as miserable before we get home."

She smiled. She'd set off some kind of competitive spark that promised to be interesting. "You're on," she said, bumping him with her hip. "No holds barred."

"Really?"

She turned her face toward him and uttered two syllables that set him on fire. "Really."

Had she known how skilled he was at firing up her deepest desires, Eames would not have been quite so ready to issue her challenge to him. He wasted nothing. Every touch, every movement, every word---all done and said in such a way that by the end of dinner, she wished she'd chosen a restaurant closer to either of their homes, wanting nothing more than to get him someplace private. Her own plans to torture him fell by the wayside in the wake of his attack.

He was surprised when they stepped out of the restaurant and she handed him the keys. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked innocently.

"Go stuff it," she growled, anxious to get home and not caring whose home it was, as long as it was close.

He leaned in and whispered into her ear. "That's exactly what I plan to do."

With a barely suppressed tremor, she made a noise and stalked off toward the car. With a self-satisfied grin, he followed. Her plan had backfired on her and he knew it. What he hadn't completely expected was the effect the evening had on him as well. He was just as anxious to get home as she was; he just had a slightly better handle on it—but not for long.

"My place or yours," he asked as he slid behind the wheel.

"Yours is closer," she answered. "Just move it."

He'd never seen her so worked up, and he couldn't remember ever being so damn turned on by a woman. He struggled mightily to keep his mind on the road, and not on her. as he drove through quiet neighborhood streets much faster than he normally would. It was late, and the streets were mostly deserted. Then...Eames decided to play a very dangerous game with him.

Angry with herself for letting him get to her, she decided to take one more shot at fulfilling her promise to make him miserable for at least the rest of the ride home. That would give her a small degree of satisfaction. She rested her head against his shoulder. He turned his head and tenderly kissed hers. She hadn't expected that and it caught her offguard for a moment. Then she snuggled a little closer and slid her hand over his thigh. Another surprise awaited her as she began to gently rub him. She couldn't explain why she hadn't expected him to be aroused by his own games, but he was, and that pleased her.

"Eames..." he said softly, shifting his hips with a quiet groan.

His tone carried both warning and plea. He wanted her to keep going because it felt so good, but he needed her to stop for the same reason. She ignored him.

After running two stop signs and almost drifting into a parked car, he stopped the car in the middle of the street and shifted into park. Gently removing her hand from his lap, he leaned toward her and said, "If you don't stop, one of two things is going to happen. I'm going to get us into an accident or I'm going to take you right here in the middle of the damn street. Your choice."

Her mouth turned up into a smile. As much as she burned for the second choice, the need for discretion still held on by a bare thread. "I'll behave," she whispered reluctantly, annoyed at her voice for being so hoarse with desire and at her body for wanting him so badly.

It was difficult to make out her face in the darkness, but he heard her need in her voice, and he was certain she heard his. Leaning in suddenly, he kissed her. That was very much the wrong thing to do, and only the sound of a car horn, which barely penetrated the fog in his head, brought reality back to bear.

With great reluctance, he withdrew from her, shifted the car into gear and continued down the street. The last thing they needed was for a patrol car to come across them and ask if they were having car trouble. Nope, no car trouble. Operator issues...

He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally parked outside his building. They wasted no time getting out of the car and into the building. As he got his keys out of his pocket, she slipped in front of him, her back turned to the door. She began to unbutton his shirt, and he dropped the keys. Shit...

As he started to bend over, she caught his mouth in a kiss, which he didn't expect, though he should have. Without hesitation, he returned her kiss with fervor before he continued toward the keys, and she came with him. After groping around for a moment, he found the keys, and she finished with the buttons on his shirt, sliding her hands across bare skin.

With a groan, he pressed her against the door while his fingers felt for the right key. Only one thought kept him from seeking to remove her clothes, and that was a reminder from the few working cells in his brain that there were children in the building. The kids really liked him, and so did their parents. It was reassuring to them that a cop lived down the hall and he was reluctant to destroy that faith.

Finding the key, he managed to slide it into the lock, turn it and get the door open. As they tumbled through the door, she slid his shirt off his shoulders and he kicked the door shut, dropping the keys on the floor again. He began to work on her clothes, but she suddenly withdrew from him, bracing her hands on his chest to prevent him from following her.

She could not miss the heat burning behind the confusion in his eyes, and she knew her eyes glowed back at him. "One thing," she said, her voice tight and hoarse. "Be-before we go on."

He waited, though not patiently, as she drew a few deep breaths to compose herself. She felt the trembling in his muscles and she felt a deep need to work on relieving his tension—and her own. "I said no holds barred, and that's exactly what I meant. I don't want you to hold back, Bobby. I want all of you, without reservation. Don't worry about hurting me. I'm a lot tougher than that." Her mouth curled into a delicious smile. "I can take you, so let me. It's all or nothing, big boy. I need all of you."

Worry replaced his confusion, but she continued to burn only with desire for him, pushing him to accept her terms. He slowly nodded. "All of me...okay, Alex. You've got it."

The pressure of her hands against his chest disappeared, and he gave her what she asked for.