The phone ringing jerked Bobby awake. His head felt like fractured glass and his mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. He was lying flat out on his back on his sofa, fully dressed. For a moment, his stomach revolted, and he thought he was going to get sick. He really wasn't the type of guy who drank himself into oblivion. Last night was an obvious exception.

"Goren." His voice was a mere croak as he fumbled for and finally answered his phone.

"Hi, this is…" Bobby dropped the phone before the female voice on the other side could continue. It smacked against the floor and jittered away. Bobby rolled over and fell onto his hands and knees, reaching out for the elusive phone.

"Sorry." Bobby mumbled into the phone.

"Did I wake you?" The voice asked, and Bobby recognized the speaker as the Major Case detective.

"Kind of." He admitted, if you could call what he had been doing sleeping.

"Oh." She paused as if she didn't quite know how to continue.

"Did you receive the ballistics report on Kenny Green?" Bobby offered, forcing his belligerent brain into coherent thought.

"Yeah. That's why I was calling. To thank you for having it expedited and sent directly to me." She said.

"No problem." Bobby crawled back up onto the sofa, leaning his head back against the tall cushions. "Anything else?" He asked, taking in a deep breath, holding it for a moment, liking the dizzy feel of keeping the oxygen in his brain.

"No." She said, but he noticed that she was hanging on the line, not ending the call.

"Hello?" Bobby said, knowing she was still there.

"Don't you want to know what it says?" She asked.

"What?"

"The report, if I just got it, and you were asleep, you probably haven't seen it." She offered.

"I know what it says."

"You know?"

"The ballistics results tie Bonello to Green, Jordan, and Patti." Bobby offered, rubbing his thumb and forefinger against his eyes.

"Yeah." She replied. He could practically see her nodding, looking at the report.

"Um." Bobby had actually mumbled the word out loud. He was trying to conjure up something professional to say about his reassignment to Major Case, something conversational that suggested he was looking forward to the assignment, looking forward to working in the same squad as her. But, his brain was blank.

"Again, thanks." She said, and this time she did hang up the phone, and Bobby realized that he was relieved that he didn't end up saying something idiotic, or simply stammering out something nonsensical. He really wasn't good at polite, trivial conversation.

He threw his phone onto the cushion beside him and pushed himself to standing. He stood, swaying slightly for a moment, realizing that he was still a little drunk. He shuffled into his kitchen, his eyes not open. He drank down a glass of water, without even opening his eyes. When he set the glass on the counter, he could feel it hit against something. So, he slowly opened his eyes and saw the platinum bands and silver necklace with the cross pendant. He set the glass aside, and threaded all four rings onto the first digit of his forefinger. He rubbed his thumb across them, spinning them slowly, watching them shine in the light in the kitchen. Breathe in, breathe out. He reached out and undid the clasp of the necklace, slipped the rings onto the chain alongside the cross pendant.

His phone started ringing again, bringing him sharply back to the here and now.

"Goren."

"Hey man. The warrants that James exercised went well. We have a solid case there. The ballistics tied Bonello to Green, Jordan, and Patti. And, I bet we'll get some other things to pop before the end of the day. CSU has nothing good from the club." Masters started rattling off the status of things. "The Captain, he's pretty damn happy with the case we made, and Organized Crime is as well. Not to mention, I know that pretty little thing at Major Case will be happy to have cleared the Jordan homicide off her desk. I know the VIPs were coming down hard to solve that case. If we're lucky, today will be a better day."

"Maybe." Bobby said, holding onto the line in silence with Masters.

"I know you knew her." Masters finally offered, rather cryptically. "Let me know, you know, if there is anything you need." He said.

"Thanks." Bobby replied, closing his eyes. "I'll be into the squad in about an hour."

"Yeah, see you then."

For a guy who had never coasted a day in his life, Bobby was doing his best to do just that. He let one day slide into three, closing down the Narcotics side of the investigation on Camilleri. They had made a solid drug case against the suppliers. They had effectively closed down the drug distribution in the club, which was a major hub of activity for several surrounding neighborhoods. They also had Bonello well on his way to prison for life. So, Narcotics turned what they had on Camilleri back over to the Organized Crime detectives.

Bobby found himself sitting in one of the small conference rooms off the main Narcotics squad room. He was leaned back hard in his chair, staring at the flecks in the ceiling tiles. His mind was connecting the flecks into constellations, as if the flecks were stars in a brilliant night sky.

"Goren." The Captain walked in.

"Captain." Bobby leaned back forward in his chair, resting his arms on the table, drumming his fingers against the hard surface.

"You have a meet and greet with Major Case this afternoon." The Captain said. "It will all be official in another week. I see you put in for that week off."

"Yeah. I, um…" Bobby started to say something but the Captain cut him off.

"I would've suggested it had you not put in for it." The Captain sat down across from Bobby. "You've given me some impressive stats over the years. I hope you will do the same for Deakins." He referred to Bobby's arrest and conviction rate.

Bobby nodded, thinking that maybe Major Case was just the thing he needed. Narcotics had really taken a personal toll on him. There was no stemming the tide of drugs in the city, so they did their best to dam it for a while, or maybe they just managed to narrow the stream. In his couple of years with Narcotics, Bobby had worked on some long term investigations, often becoming personally invested in the outcome, in the players. This most recent case had left him feeling like his insides had been ripped wide open. In Major Case, he would make a point to stick to the business of solving the case.

"Did you dress up for Major Case?" The Captain pushed his chair back and stood, referring to Bobby's dark suit, shirt and tie. Bobby stood as well, straightening his suit jacket.

"Not exactly." Bobby replied. Amelia's funeral had been today. Camilleri had pulled out all of the stops. Bobby had watched at a distance as the whose whoon Organized Crime's list attended. They were also the clientele at the club, so they were paying respects to Camilleri, who was paying respects to Amelia. The Captain looked at him for a long moment, as if he thought Bobby might say something more. But in the end he simply reached out and shook Bobby's hand, offering a curt nod before walking off.

Bobby thought back to the funeral from that morning. He had waited until Camilleri's show was over to pay his respects. He had walked across the area where just a little while ago a crowd of mourner's had gathered. Camilleri had bathed the casket in a blanket of flowers, and had been the first to step forward and crumble earth into the grave. As Bobby stood, pretty much in the same spot where Camilleri had stood just an hour or so before, Bobby also reached out and picked up a handful of the damp, soft earth. He looked at it resting in his hand and tried for a deep breath.

He was a slow man to feel, he had learned early on to guard his heart. So, he was slow to realize he had feelings for Amelia. He never really had a chance with her. Kenny Green throwing her down the stairs had pretty much taken away that opportunity. Bobby still felt sick, way down deep in his gut, that he hadn't seen it coming, that he hadn't been around to stop it, that he wasn't the one to chase Kenny Green down into the diner and slam his face into the table for abusing his daughter, for murdering her.

He closed his fist around the soft soil, feeling the moisture wick into his palm. He slowly opened his fingers just enough to let the earth meet the earth.

Breathe in, breathe out. He took a deep breath, looked up for a long, lingering moment at the late morning sun, and walked away.

At the end of his extremely long day, Bobby found himself standing in Captain Jimmy Deakins office for his meet and greet. Bobby was leaning against the wall, fumbling with the silver chain he had in his pocket, rubbing his fingers across the platinum bands and the angles of the cross pendant. His brain returned to the advice he had received from Declan Gage - get inside their head, use what you need, put the puzzle together, but never let them get inside of you. He needed to find a balance, find a distance. He wondered if he could, and still be effective.

He was turning those ideas over in his head, sizing up how things at Major Case might be, when Deakins returned. "I know things will not be official until next week, but I thought I might introduce you to your future partner." Deakins was talking as he walked into the office. Bobby could see that he was followed by none other than the sharp tongued detective who he had worked the Thomas Jordan homicide. "Detective Robert Goren, this is Detective Alexandra Eames."

Alex Eames extended her arm to firmly shake Bobby's hand.

"Bobby." He mumbled. He pushed himself up and away from leaning against the wall, clumsily extracting his hands from his pockets. He took her hand in his and cleared his throat in an effort to say it more clearly, "Most people, they call me Bobby." He said. Though in time, he would come to know, and deeply respect, that she was not most people.

A/N: Yike! So, I think I'm done with this thread of thought. Hmmm... what should I write about next?