A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!

Enjoy!


Bobby & Alex's Apartment

The grey cement bricks of the interrogation room surrounded him from all sides. There was no door, no glass two-way mirror, no table, no nothing except for him standing in the middle of it. He felt trapped and it was getting harder to breathe as he back up into a wall. Looking up, he saw no ceiling; instead the walls went up and on forever in the dark abyss. He was trapped in his own private hell, enclosed in with his own self. With nothing but his own mind to drive him slowly insane.

Opening his mouth to scream out, it caught in his throat, gagging him as if a hand was strangling him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, and then he heard the faint pleading of someone…a man, breaking through the silent room.

"I'm going to make you squeal."

He jerked awake, nearly throwing himself off the bed, as he gasped for air. It was a struggle to get air in and out as his body shook but he wasn't cold. He was too hot and there was that faint buzzing noise in his head again.

Alex shifted behind him and he felt her arm wrap around his and then her lips on the back on his neck. "Another nightmare?"

Bobby sighed and closed his eyes against the kiss, trying to feel how it was supposed to calm him. It wasn't working because he wasn't calming. Giving a nod to her question, he took a glance at the clock. He had only slept for twenty minutes after he'd spent hours tossing and turning in bed while fighting through a fit of cold sweats. Alex was struggling to sleep as well because of his constant movements.

His head was pounding with thoughts on the case mixed with his own physical and mental pain. Without being able to ease it all with alcohol, it was harder to sleep, harder to push everything away for a few blissful hours. He realized that he'd been self-medicating himself with alcohol for a very long time.

Maybe he should tell his doctor about the insomnia and get on sleeping pills. Groaning in pain and exhaustion, he sat up on the edge of the bed. Feeling the t-shirt sticking to his body he pulled it off and tossed it toward the closet.

"I'll start the shower; why don't you go and put the coffee on?"

She got up and left the room without waiting for a response back from him, which was a good thing because he didn't have one.

It was six in the morning and they would normally be awake and getting ready for work anyway if Deakins hadn't given them until ten that morning to be in at work since they pulled an all-nighter. Getting up, he made his way to the kitchen. He got halfway down the hall before he felt his stomach lurch, making him rush back to the bathroom.

He had avoided food all day yesterday, having felt nauseous, until he couldn't stand not eating any longer, and that was when he had gone to the diner with Alex. Then still hungry, he had gotten that pizza at work. It finally caught up to him, and in the worst way possible as he spent nearly ten minutes empting his stomach as Alex rubbed his back, trying to sooth the tense muscles.

After the dry heaving passed, he still couldn't stand as his chest clenched, his heart pounded, and his soul ached. He felt like curling into a ball and crying, yelling, screaming, and die, preferably all at the same time.

It was day two of his self-inducted detox of alcohol and the harder it was becoming to not cave in. If it wasn't the constant need for a drink that was going to do him in, it was going to be the physical anguish of withdrawal that would finally do it. And, besides, he had told himself that he needed to stop his excessive drinking, break his dependence, not quit altogether.

Yet, Alex was right. If he started back up so soon he would probably slip back into old habits. So, he had to fight through it and not cave. It was going to be the ultimate battle within his mind and soul because he was already suffering from depression, and PTSD, and all the physical pain was enough to take him to his knees and actually pray to a God he didn't even believe in.

Finally, he pushed himself up off the floor and took a hold of the counter. Alex took out the aspirin bottle and handed him two with a glass of water. As he took those, she picked up his tooth brush and paste and got it ready for him. Staring down at her, he heard his voice in his foggy head say, "I can do that myself."

Alex handed it to him as she said, "I was only help-"

"Yeah, well, I don't need to be mothered, Alex," he snapped as he snatched up the toothbrush.

Alex shook her head at him as she left the bathroom, muttering something under her breath that he probably would've heard if the buzzing hadn't gotten louder in his head.

After brushing his teeth and rinsing his mouth out, he slipped his boxers off and got into the shower to wash away the grime of sweat that coated his body. He quickly washed his body over a few times with soap, and his hair, before leaning his forearms against the wall. Closing his eyes, he felt the warm spray beat down on him.

Then everything faded, blackened, as he lost consciousness. His knees buckled, sending him falling forward into the wall.

The moment his arm hit the side of the tub he snapped awake as his eyes blurred in front of him as the room tilted, making his stomach twist into knots. He was still in the tub, hadn't fallen over, but was on his back having caught himself with his right arm breaking his fall. Luckily for him he hadn't hit his head, or fallen sideways.

"Bobby, are you okay in there? I heard banging…Bobby?"

He went to speak when the sudden gripping of his chest and throat prevented him from getting a word out. Nothing in his life could have prepared him for the amount of pain and sorrow that bombarded his body and mind. Tears actually filled his eyes as he felt the impending breakdown push and pull at his control. Swallowing hard, and clenching his eyes shut, he pushed the tight lump in his throat down.

"Are you okay?" she asked again; this time so much closer. "What happened?"

He felt her hand on him, on his shoulder as the water cut off, silencing the droning noise that had taken residence in his head. The her hand was on his head, caressing his cheek as he shivered and shook and tried to speak. Finally, all he could manage was, "Can't breathe," in tight, short, gasps.

The short seconds she was gone felt like an eternity before she covered him in a towel. While Alex tried to dry him off while he was still sitting in the tub, he was trying to breathe and get his body to work. He needed to stand but his body was refusing to listen to his head.

He felt his robe engulf him and then her body pressed right up into his as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She didn't say anything other than that it was going to be okay, that he was okay, and that she loved him while she rested her head on his, holding him tighter and closer as he fought to catch his breath.

It felt like hours before he was able to calm himself down, but it was only a few short minutes before he was hitching in deep breaths, straining to get the air into his lungs which felt on fire. His whole body felt that way, like he was burning from the inside out. He had to unclench his left hand from out of his hair to be able to wipe it over his face, feeling the combination of water wetting his palm. Taking in a deeper, calmer breath he looked over at Alex.

She had climbed into the tub with him; had wrapped him up in his robe, and held him as he gave in for a moment to all the hurt he'd been feeling with a panic attack. And, she didn't look accusing, or judgmental, or apologetic about any of it. She didn't look like she had had enough and was ready to throw in the towel and leave him. She looked ready to go another round if need be. Tired, but ready for anything.

Alex reached up to run her fingers through his wet hair as he leaned over and caught her lips in his, kissing her.

Pulling away slightly, he rested his head against hers as his eyes slid close. He was so tired. He hadn't really slept since Saturday, and that was only because he had been so exhausted from not sleeping since days, or maybe weeks, before then. He didn't think that he'd actually slept without the help of some form of drug since before the shooting.

He hadn't been able to sleep without the help of a drink since before…Years. It had been years. There was no way he could do this. There was no way he could continue the rest of his life without ever drinking again. There would be no twenty year sobriety coin for him, no AA meetings, because he couldn't do it. He wasn't strong enough. Wasn't mentally healthy enough…He was a coward. A pathetic coward.

"Can you stand?"

Giving a nod, he pushed those thoughts away as he focused on standing. He was able to get out of the tub with the help of Alex supporting him. His body felt like jell-o and he felt jittery, like after having too much caffeine, but he knew it was another symptom of withdrawal. Yesterday it had taken nearly all his willpower to not let anyone see his hands shaking, but today was going to be worse. He could feel it coming on. The restlessness, the jitters and the shakes.

Maybe it was a good thing that he was already a restless guy; that he normally moved around a lot with boundless energy. It would help him to hide it a little. And, he could always twist his hands together when they started to shake in front of people; another thing he normally did to keep himself grounded in the present.

This could work. He could do this, he told himself. One day, and step, at a time. Bobby wrapped the robe around him and tied it off as he used the towel to dry his wet hair before he hung it back up on the door.

"Why don't you get dressed?"

He gave her another look as he felt the embarrassment heat up his neck. He felt angry again, and wanted to start yelling again about her mothering him, but then the urge to cry hit his chest again. It was a constant turmoil of emotions rolling around like a pinball in his chest. One minute he was so angry he could start screaming, the next he wanted to wallow in misery.

"I've got the coffee going and breakfast," Alex kept saying, oblivious to the torturous turmoil within him. "I'll make you some toast and oatmeal."

The thought of food actually made his stomach turn. This sick feeling wasn't going to go away anytime soon. He remembered his friend, who he had help to detox in the Army, had felt sick for weeks after, barely eating for the first week. What he did need to do was hydrate himself. He needed to drink tons of water from now until this was all over; it would help. He remembered it helping.

Leaving the bathroom, he went back into the bedroom to dress. Even that task was slow and exhausting. As he stood in the closet and pulled a dress shirt off the hanger, he felt his body want to give. Gripping the edge of the doorframe, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Once he felt he could manage to finish dressing, he slipped the shirt on and started buttoning it.

Taking a suit jacket from the hanger, he went to step out of the closet when a thought struck him.

If Gardner was killed working on a house…then why in the hell was he found in his nice, clean, Brooks Brothers suit?

"I'm an idiot," he mumbled to himself as he grabbed a tie off the hanger on the closet door as he left the room. Slinging the tie over his shoulder, he stepped into his shoes that were in the foyer, before going into the kitchen.

Alex was at the stove and he could smell eggs along with the oatmeal and coffee. The smell of the eggs made him gag as he pulled down a bowl. When she turned around to take the bowl from him to fill it with the oatmeal, he told her, "They kept Gardner to clean him up."

She handed him the bowl back along with a plate of toast, and said, "Because he was wearing a suit, which isn't typically worn when hammering in nails. I know, I thought that was already established."

Bobby frowned down at her as he asked, "When? I don't remember it being discussed."

"It wasn't, but it was obvious and we all thought it. At least I thought we all thought it. You're just now realizing that?"

Rubbing at his aching head, he sighed as he went over to the table and sat the food down. Taking a cup, he poured himself a cup of coffee and kept it black as he sat down. "It did, actually. I think I was way too tired last night to think properly if I missed that important little detail. I mean, I could have been thinking it, but, because I was so focused on the timeline and the phone records, it probably got pushed to the sidelines. Anyway, that goes along with the overreaction to the killing of Gardner. Whoever did this, freaked so bad that he did everything he could think of to clean up after himself and stage an overdose that wasn't an overdose. I thought it was strange that Gardner didn't have a scratch on him, that he was perfectly clean, even his suit."

"There's a lot to think about with this case that it's so easy to forget some of the details." Alex dished out a plate for herself as she told him, "You need to start figuring out a way to sleep, Bobby. You can't keep going like this."

"I should be hearing something back from my buddy sometime soon," he said instead of answering to that. It would only resort to a fight, either verbal or silently. He didn't want that right now. There was already too much going on that the last thing he needed was for her to be worried about his sleeping habits, or lack thereof. "He's good at tracing unknown prepaid cell phones."

Alex sat down across from him and handed him a yogurt and apple. "You need more than just oatmeal. Want some orange juice?" she asked as she got up to get her a glass.

"We have orange juice?"

"I bought some when I went shopping yesterday," she told him as she got the carton out and filled them both a glass. "I think you even put it up for me."

Bobby rubbed at his head as he tried to remember that, but couldn't. Sighing, he picked up the glass and took a sip. He grimaced at the sting the acid caused to his throat and put it down on her side of the table.

"You don't want it?"

Shaking his head, he started to eat his food as they fell into an uncomfortable silence. He knew that she wanted him to talk about it, about what happened in that bathroom, but he didn't. He didn't even want to think about what happened in that bathroom this morning ever again. It felt like the most embarrassing moment of his adult life. A grown man, naked in the shower, freaking out and having a panic attack like a little boy.

After he was done eating his food, he got up and filled a glass with water and took an ibuprofen, downing the water before filling the glass again. As he turned to walked back over to the table, his hand jerked sharply from a sudden jolt that briefly numbed his fingers. The ear-piercing sound of glass shattering made him jump back as he looked to the floor.

Cursing under his breath, he closed his eyes and took a breath.

"I'll-"

"No," he said sternly, cutting Alex off from whatever it was so was going to say. His left hand was shaking bad as he ran it through his hair and over the back of his neck. Moving around the broke glass and water, he said, "I got it," as he reached the closet by the back door and pulled out the broom and dustpan.

Alex hadn't cared what he told her because she was out of her seat and grabbing a towel to clean up the water.

"Alex…"

"I can help," she told him as she picked up a piece of the broke glass and tossed it into the trash can.

Kneeling down, he grabbed her hand before she could picked up another piece of the glass. Gripping her wrist a little too hard in his shaky left hand, he sternly said, "Alex, stop. I've already embarrassed myself enough with what happened in the bathroom…I don't need your help to clean this up. Just let me-" At seeing the sudden wince of pain on her face as she looked down, Bobby felt how hard he was actually gripping her arm and let go with a panic of fear in his chest. "I'm sorry…I didn't-"

She immediately covered her right wrist and started to massage over it as she told him, "I'm okay. If you want to do this all by yourself then fine, Bobby. I didn't mean to be mothering you," Alex bitterly snarked as she quickly stood and left the kitchen, leaving him staring after her as he felt the pain ignite in his gut.

Pushing it down, he turned back to the broken glass on the floor and started cleaning it up. He put the broom and dustpan back and wiped the remaining water up with a towel before leaving the kitchen. Alex's bird had been chirping non-stop since the glass broke but was now quiet as he passed by the cage and rounded the foyer into the hallway.

At the end of the hall the door to the bedroom was closed and that sent him into a panic all over again. Alex never shut the door, not even when she was dressing. He gave a light tap on it, and not knowing why, before he opened it.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, zipping up her boots. Her hair was hanging loosing down in front of her face but she couldn't fool him. He heard her deep breathing, her sniffling nose, and she was clutching a tissue in her hand. There was nothing unusual about her wearing a long sleeve shirt in the winter time, but he realized that that particular shirt was longer than some of her other ones. The arms stretched passed her wrist up to her fingers. Leaning heavily against the doorframe, he stared at the floor and felt like dying right then and there.

"Ready to go?" Alex asked as she got up and went to walk by him.

He put his arm to stop her.

"Bobby, move."

"No, not until I see your wrist."

Alex glared up at him and then she tried to push by him but he was bigger than she would ever be, and stronger, as she tried to fight by him. "This is…" she grunted as he grabbed her by the arms, stopping her.

"This is what?" he asked as he pushed her back into the room.

"Ridiculous, childish-"

"Just let me-"

"No," she cut him off as she wrapped her arms across her chest. "It's not that big of a deal, Bobby. Even if you did leave a bruise, what then? It wasn't intentional and I know that."

He started pacing and couldn't help it as he rubbed over his neck, his mouth, as he stared down at the floor. "It means a lot if-if I did, Alex. It means that I'm not aware, that I'm so…unfocused, that I'm not realizing my own strength, and that I'm hurting you. No matter how unintentional, it's not safe. I'm not safe!" Staring over at her, he asked again, "Let me see."

"No," she denied him again.

Was she taunting him for a reason? All she was doing was making him angrier and she had to know she was going it. "Alex, please," he asked but his voice didn't hold the gentle plea that those words suggested. His jaw was literally twitching.

Then Alex made a bold move as she went to walk right by him again. She didn't get far as he wrapped his injured arm around her midsection, lifting her off the floor.

Alex's arms shot out, wrapping around his shoulder, his neck, as she yelped, "Bobby! Put me down!"

He did as she asked, but not on the floor, but he dropped her on the bed and was immediately on top of her, holding her down.

"Goren, I'm warning you, let me go," she tried to threaten him but a laugh escaped, betraying her threat, as he took a hold of her arms and trapped them to her chest when she tried to push him away.

Bobby just smirked as she struggled beneath him.

"Let go," she said again right before he felt a knee slam into his inner thigh. It missed its target, but a sharp jolt of pain ignited in his thigh, his leg, and in his groin.

He caught the cry of pain in his clenched mouth as it momentarily froze him, giving Alex the advantage as she knocked him to his side and off of her. As he grabbed his inner thigh, the spot right next to his valuables, he glared over at her as he groaned into the bed. Despite the pain, he was thankful that she had missed his balls or else that would have been the end to their sex life

Alex actually started laughing. "I warned you."

"That was intentional," he gritted his teeth as he grimaced in pain. "And that really fucking hurt."

She pushed him onto his back as she stared down at him. "What happened to my wrist in that kitchen," she said as she slid the sleeve down. At seeing the red mark that would soon turn into a purple and blue bruise, he shook out a deep breath. "Hey, this wasn't intentional, so I don't want to listen to you beating yourself up over it. And what I did to you, you asked for it."

Bobby narrowed his eyes at her and she challenged him to say otherwise as she glared right back at him. "There are better ways of getting a point across than nearly castrating me with your knee."

Alex chuckled at that as she told him, "Not with you. If I don't present evidence, you tend to ignore it." She smiled a little as she said, "If Logan notices the bruise I get to say 'you should see the other guy', and mean it."

Bobby couldn't help it, he smiled and then chuckled as he rubbed at his thigh. The movement caused it to hurt. At noticing his pain, Alex reached down to feel at his thigh and give it a rub. He couldn't help but smirk as he said, "Wrong spot."

Alex rolled her eyes as she shoved him in the chest, making him laugh a little harder. But she did lean down and give him a kiss.

When she broke the kiss, he said again, "Wrong spot again, my lips aren't the ones in pain."

"Neither is the spot you want my lips on."

"Close enough," he teased as she leaned up and slid off his lap, causing him to moan. "We don't have to be in at work until ten…It's only eight."

Alex gave him a wave over her shoulder as she continued out the door and down the hallway, leaving him to watch her walk away for the second time that day.

"You're such a tease, Alex Eames," he called down the hall and heard her laugh in return. Reaching down to his thigh again, he rubbed over the sore muscles and groaned. That really did hurt; he didn't even want to think about that amount of pain he'd be in right now if she had hit her target.

He probably would've passed out.


Major Case Squad

He had scheduled for Zach Patterson, Guy's son, to come in to be interviewed at eleven, which gave him plenty of time to go over his list of questions he'd wanted to ask the young man. He was at his desk, adding a few more thoughts to the list, when he felt someone walk up beside him. Glancing up, Bobby saw that it was Logan. "What'd you want?"

Logan frowned at that question as he said, "To sit in when you question Zach."

Bobby returned his attention to his binder as he gave a nod. "Yeah, okay. You and Eames, uh, if you want you can be there."

"I said me, Eames is busy over at the courthouse. Carver wanted to talk to her about the warrant for Gardner's office and then she's going to search the place. I stayed to talk to Zach and then meet up with her later."

He looked over at Alex's desk and saw it empty as he let out a breath. Having Logan with him while he talked to Zach, alone, wasn't something he wanted to do. However, it looked like he had no choice. "Okay, but let me question him about my case. And then if you have any questions pertaining to Gardner's murder to ask, then I'll want to stay."

Logan shifted against the pillar as he crossed his arms. "You're keeping an eye on me. Is that it? I'm not the one running around her throwing people on desks."

Bobby glared up at Logan as he stopped writing. Working his jaw, he tried not to get angry as he felt his hand shake. It wasn't just from the anger, but his withdrawal. Dropping the mechanical pencil, he twisted his hands together as he looked away from Logan. "I don't want to…" taking a breath, he shook his head and dropped his hands on the desk. "Now is not the time to have this discussion, all right? You want to be in there with me, I want to be in there with you…Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it," Logan said with a bitter snap of his voice as he pushed off the pillar and stalked over to his desk.

Bobby closed his eyes as he felt the sweat start to coat his back, his neck, and over his forehead. Getting up, he headed to the men's room to try and calm himself, and clean up, before Zach arrived.

The kid was ten minutes late, but he arrived. Zach walked in with a patrol officer and a visitor pass hanging off his jacket. On his shoulder was a book bag which he carried with him into the interview room.

"Go ahead and have a seat," Bobby told him as he stood to greet him. "Uh, thanks for coming in. Would you like anything? Coffee, a soda…?"

Zach shook his head as he pulled a water bottle out of the side pocket of the book bag. "I've got my own, but thanks."

Bobby smiled a little as he sat back down. A moment later Logan walked in with a cup of coffee in hand; he shut the door and then sat down next to him. "This is Detective Logan, he's uh…He's working the murder of ADA Gardner."

At the mention of Gardner's death, Zach blinked back and stared at him before looking to Logan. "He's dead? I thought…The news said he was missing."

He glanced over at Logan who looked to him. Bobby turned back to Zach as he told him, "His body was found early last night…It hasn't been made public yet."

"Am I a suspect?" he fearfully asked as he stared at him. "I thought you were taking over my dad's case? I came here to-"

Holding up his hand, Bobby tried to calm the son down. "I didn't lie to you, Zach. I'm working your father's case, but Detective Logan is working the ADA's, which are overlapping each other. All right, no one is accusing you of anything. We just need to sort something's out, get some answers, and then you're free to go."

Zach was struggling to calm down, but he gave a nod as he leaned back in the chair and took a sip of the water. "Okay. I'm sorry, it's just this whole thing's been tough. My dad didn't do anything."

"I believe that," Bobby truthfully told him. At seeing the disbelief in the young man's eyes, he said, "I do, that's why I asked you here and why I'm taking over the case. I wouldn't have done that if I thought he was guilty."

"But you think I am?" he accused again.

"Why are you so defensive?" Logan suddenly asked as he picked up the cup of coffee off the table and took a sip.

Zach looked over at Logan as he told him, "Maybe because my family's been thrown under the bus and no matter where I go, I'm also being accused of bullshit I didn't even do."

"Logan," Bobby cut him off before he could open his mouth. When Logan looked over at him, he slightly shook his head. Turning back to looking at Zach, he heard Logan's deeply irritated sigh which told him that he was pissed off with being kicked to the sidelines.

At seeing this, Zach asked, "What's he doing in here anyway if he's got questions for the other case? Why don't we talk first and then he can ask me whatever he wants to about the ADA?"

Bobby wanted to smirk at that as he looked over at Logan and saw him growing more annoyed with this kid by the second.

Clearing not liking it, Logan pushed the chair back hard and got up from the table. He opened the door, nearly letting it slam against the wall before he stalked off.

Bobby got up and shut the door before turning back to Zach who was leaning on the table with his head in his hand. "You're sorry for that?"

Rubbing at his head, Zach looked up at him as he told him, "I've been snapping like that to everyone. I didn't mean it."

"You haven't been sleeping?"

He gave a nod as he rubbed at his eyes and then picked up the bottle of water. "We all haven't been sleeping. My dad's constantly at the kitchen table every night, just sitting there, thinking. I've caught mom in the bedroom a few times, crying. The only person in that house not affected by all this is Elise."

"No one ever really gives consideration to the family on the opposite end of…uh, of something like this, do they?"

"Oh, they consider us all right, but it's only to accuse, to point fingers and drag us through the mud. It's never that maybe the cops got it wrong and we're innocent in all this fucking mess." Zach took a breath and glanced up at him, apologizing, "Sorry."

Bobby shook his head as he flipped open his binder that had been sitting unopened in front of him on the table. "You have no reason to apologize. I understand. I try to remain, uh…unbiased, as a cop, to fully understand both sides of the crime, you know. Most cops aren't like that, even when they say they are. Most immediately side with the victim and, you know, be damned with the suspect. I've got to admit, though, that, uh…I've found myself, on a few occasions, unfairly acting the same way."

Dan Croyden came to mind and he had to push that away as he saw Zach's defenses dropping. He had also acted that same way going the opposite direction as he defended the suspect with hardly any consideration to the victims. When the pleading words of John Tagman entered his head yet again, he got up and gestured toward the break room. "Are you sure you don't want a soda or coffee?"

Zach gave it some thought as he finally nodded, asking, "A coffee would be good, black. Thanks."

Bobby smiled slightly as he opened the door and crossed the room. He had left the case file and his notes all in his binder. Taking a glance over his shoulder, he saw that Zach leaned back in the chair and ignored what was in front of him on the table.

He continued to watch the son as he filled two cups with black coffee and then crossed the floor back over to the room. Normally, if someone was guilty, they would try to catch a glimpse of what they had on the case. Zach never once tried to see what was written on the pages in his binder or what was in the case file. Sitting the coffee down on the table, Zach thanked him again as he picked up the cup and took a big gulp.

"Your hands are shaking, are you okay?" Zach asked as Bobby sat back down.

"Too much coffee and not enough sleep," he told him as he took a sip while pulling out a mechanical pencil, noticing how his hands were jittery.

"I guess we don't take into consideration the cops working these cases either. For all I know that detective with Special Victim's had been coming off a really tough case with a week long of no sleep. He could've been really tired and ready to just go home to his own family for a change. It's not an excuse but I'm not thinking that maybe this cop has been dealing with this kind of shit for so long that he's lost faith in the innocent. He sees some magazines, draws a conclusion, and yeah, nine times out of ten he's probably right. Given that and the fact that my dad's a Catholic high school coach. It seems like recently every time I turn on the news the Church is being accused of something, mostly child sexual abuse. It's kind-of like, when does it all stop." Finally looking up at him from the table, Zach told him, "It stops with my dad because he is innocent. I guarantee you that."

Bobby stared right back in Zach's eyes and he saw the same look he'd seen in Patterson's eyes a few days before. Pure honesty; it nearly made him look away because he didn't think that such a thing existed anymore. Everyone lied…or so he thought. "I only have a few questions,." he said as he cleared his throat and looked down at his binder, "and then I'll let the other detective back in here. If you want, I'll stay for that as well?"

Zach gave a nod as he told him, "Yeah, that'll be good."

"You don't trust, Detective Logan?" he asked, getting his mind back on track.

Zach gave a shrug as he told him, "I don't know. He reminds me of the other detective."

Bobby threw a guess out as he asked, "The one with Special Victims?"

"Yeah, he, I don't know, rubbed me the wrong way I guess. He didn't care about what we said, or my dad, he saw what he saw and nothing else mattered. My dad became the scum of the earth to him and he was instantly guilty."

Bobby looked out of the window and saw Logan sitting at his desk, sulking as the kept glancing their way. "You blame the Special Victim's detective for this happening?"

"If he had done a better job, looked deeper into it, then my family wouldn't be in this mess. So, yeah, I do," Zach snapped out with no regret this time in his anger and bitterness.

"So tell me," Bobby told him. "I am looking deeper, but I'm hitting dead-ends. No one can verify one way or the other what exactly happened. No one can explain the appearance of child pornography in your family's game room…"

Zach leaned back in the chair as he shook his head. "I don't know who that belongs to, but it's not my fathers. He doesn't have a porn stash." Bobby looked at him until Zach admitted, "I looked, okay, when I was like fourteen. It doesn't exist."

Bobby smiled a little as he wrote that down without his hand betraying him. It took a lot of focus to keep his hand from shaking, making his writing legible. "And you don't know who brought it in?"

"It could've been one of my friends from high school, but I don't know. During parties I would have in the basement, I don't remember anyone showing it, or passing anything like that around. We tried to sneak beer in a few times, but…"

"Uh, we?"

Zach laughed a little. "I wasn't going to tell my dad that it was my idea. That would've been the end of my parties."

Bobby took a sip of the coffee as he smiled a little. So far, Zach seemed very forthcoming in his answers. If the porn had been his, he would've given it up, especially if it was to save his dad from anymore accusations. That meant he had no idea how to explain the magazines that were found in the home. "Did you know Caleb Cunningham before?"

Zach shook his head as he leaned his elbows on the table. "I don't hang around the high school anymore. I've been in college and then working before I lost my job."

"What job?"

"Drafting."

Bobby blinked back as he looked up at Zach as he asked, "Drafting as in a, uh, being a draftsman…a technical designer?"

"Yeah," Zach said as he ran a hand through his dark blond hair. "I design blueprints for buildings. Mostly residential housing, but I've done office buildings too."

"What reason did they have to fire you?"

Zach stared at the table as his neck heated. Looking up, he told him with a sense of shame in his voice. "My ex-girlfriend was my boss. When we broke up, things at work got very complicated and I acted like a jerk. She fired me instead of me quitting. If I had quit, I wouldn't have received unemployment so she actually did me a favor. I received a letter of recommendation from her in the mail a few days ago. I guess that means I'm forgiven if she's trying to help me gain employment somewhere else."

"I would think so," he said with a nod as he wrote all that done. Bobby reached up to rub at the sweat that began to coat his forehead again. He would deal with the back of his neck later.

"You're looking pretty bad, you might be coming down with the flu or something," Zach told him as downed the rest of his coffee.

"I have been feeling off for a few days." Bobby glanced out through the window and when he caught Logan's eyes, he gestured for him to come in.

Zach looked over his shoulder as Logan approached the room. "You're sending in the righty already?"

Bobby chuckled a little at that baseball reference as Logan opened the door. "Told you I only had a few questions."

"But you asked only like two that actually involved the case," Zach said as he glanced up at Logan as he shut the door and then sat back down.

Only a few questions, but he gained a lot of information from just letting Zach talk freely and openly. Some people, including cops, never seemed to realize that the most important pieces of information didn't come from asking a question about the case, or even from asking a question at all, but came from having a conversation.

Bobby gestured for Logan to ask away as he returned to his binder. He wasn't writing anything down yet, but he was drawing pictures in the margin to keep himself grounded so not to lose his mind in the thoughts that were bombarding his head.

He already knew what question Logan was going to ask before he asked them, so with each one asked, he crossed it out on his list.

"I've just got a couple questions," Logan said as he leaned on the table. "Tuesday night, where were you?"

"At a friend's house. His name's Rob Jenkins, he lives in the Bronx."

"How'd you know him?"

Zach glanced over at him and then looked back at Logan as he answered, "I met him in college. We're both technical designers."

"I've already established his occupation and how he uh, ended up fired from his job," Bobby told Logan as he crossed that question off his list.

Logan gave him a look as he took a moment to refocus. "I'll verify with him later about what you two did that evening, but you can tell me now."

"We drank a lot of beer and played a lot of video games. I think we even ordered a pizza around…midnight, I'm not sure, but I paid with a credit card. After we ran out of beer, we opened his bottle of vodka and headed up to the roof of his building. I don't remember much after that. I woke up around two Wednesday afternoon in the recliner with a horrible back ache. I got cleaned up there and headed to the courthouse. Rob was still asleep when I left."

"Does he work?" Bobby asked, interrupting Logan's questioning.

"He had to have shoulder surgery a few weeks ago and he's still out on medical."

"How'd he hurt his shoulder?" Logan asked, regaining control of the interview.

Zach laughed a little as he said, "He thought he could haul up a stove on his own five flights. He called me crying like a girl when he dislocated his shoulder. I found him in the stairwell, minus the stove. Someone jacked it from him while he waited for help."

Bobby couldn't help but laugh causing Logan to smirk a little. "That sucks."

"Tell me about it, I went in half on the payment."

"You must be a good friend to do something like that," Logan said.

Zach shrugged then explained, "He just rented a two bedroom and I'm planning on moving in with him once everything settles down, or until being at home again starts to drive me crazy. He's trying to get me on where he works too, so…It was the least I could do."

Bobby interrupted Logan again as he asked, "He also drafts residential housing, or something else?"

"Machines and equipment, but we both freelance for a number of things. He can do buildings just the same as I can do what he does, even vehicles and airplanes."

"Be nice to design for the auto industry," he said with a smile.

Zach smiled too as he gave a nod. "That'll be cool."

Looking over at Logan, he saw the stern look in his eyes and held up his hands. "Sorry," Bobby said as he sat back in the chair and gestured for Logan to continue. "I just find it fascinating. I've always wanted to design something, especially my own car and get it, you know, actually built. The closest I've come is helping my buddy put my car together, or, uh…making models. Seeing your blueprints, all your hard work, being built from the ground up, or a preexisting design being converted into your design, that must be…exhilarating."

"It's the best feeling in the world, I think. Well, next closest thing to becoming a father, I would imagine. I doubt there's anything that can compare to creating a life," Zach told him with all sincerity.

"Are you a father?"

Zach shook his head. "Not yet, but hopefully at some point. I want to be a dad."

"Can I get back to my questioning, please," Logan asked as he looked between the two of them.

Bobby shrugged again, saying, "I'm not stopping you. You can cut in at any time."

"I'm not going to spend time cutting in when you can do what I did with your questioning session, and leave," Logan told him as he gave him a glare.

Bobby looked over at Zach who shrugged. "All right," he said as he got up. Picking up his binder, he saw no other questions left on his list. Shutting it, he held out his hand and shook Zach's hand, thanking him for coming in, and then left.

Whatever else Logan had to ask Zach didn't pertain to his case, so he didn't let it bother him too much that he was kicked out. Going toward his desk, he spotted Deakins in his office reviewing a file and signing his name at the bottom.

Tapping on the doorframe, he walked in as he dug through his binder for the file he was looking for. Once he found it, he handed it over to Deakins, telling him, "I need that signed before I head over to SVU."

Deakins took the file and flipped it open. One glance at it, he lowered the file and leaned back in his chair, "This is verification of a temporary transfer."

Giving a nod, Bobby said, "Right. You said I could work-"

"A joint investigation."

Bobby shifted in his stance before sitting down. "Captain, I'm not sure how long this is going to take, and…" He didn't know how he could tell Deakins that he wasn't sure if he wanted to stay with Major Case. Rubbing at his head, he said, "This would make it easier. I can temporary transfer to SVU; it's an entirely voluntary unit and I volunteer myself to work there for the duration of this case."

Deakins regarded him for a long moment before he leaned on his desk, asking, "Is there something you're not telling me, Bobby? If this is because you can't work with Alex any longer or-"

"Captain," Bobby said, cutting him off, "I'm not sure what this is, if it's anything other than needing more time to straighten everything out, I don't know. All I know is that this would make everything simpler…I hear they're short-handed over at Special Victim's, they could use the help."

Sighing heavily, Deakins picked up his pen and read over the form before reluctantly signing his name at the bottom. Once he signed his name, he handed it back to him, saying, "You also need to get the Chief's signature, and if he agrees then I guess if you need anything else, you know my number."

Taking the file folder, he put it back in his binder as he stood. "Thanks, Captain."

"Is Eames and Logan good with this? I'm going to have to stick Logan with her for a while longer."

"They're working good together, don't you think?"

"Surprising well, actually," Deakins told him as he stood and headed to the door with him. "Good luck, you're going to need it."

Smiling slightly he left the office and stepped up to his desk. He gathered up what was necessary out of his drawers before throwing his overcoat over his arm. If the Chief signed off on the temporary transfer, he wouldn't be back in that squad room for a while. As he headed out, he saw Logan on the phone at his desk and the interview room empty.

Stopping by Logan's desk, he asked, "Anything?"

Logan glanced up at him and shook his head. "The kid knew nothing. Are you heading over to SVU now?"

"Yeah, I'll, uh…I'll see you later, all right?" he said as he started for the hall.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," Logan said as he went back to the talking to whoever it was on the phone.

Bobby didn't bother to tell him that he wouldn't be seeing him tomorrow as he headed down the hallway and around the corner to the elevator.


Office of ADA Alec Gardner

The moment she spotted Ileana Peltier she shook her head and rolled her eyes. No wonder Bobby had used her first name and mentioned that she was French. The woman was tall, blond hair, and beautiful. Her dress was short, revealing way too much leg and it plunged in the back and front. It didn't leave very much to the imagination, but it wasn't unlike something she wouldn't buy, just never would she dare to wear it to work.

Miss Peltier was waiting for her as she paced around the reception area. When she spotted her holding up her shield, she sighed and waved her arms around, "I've been waiting her for almost an hour."

Alex walked over to her as she handed out the warrant and put her shield back on her belt. "There were some last minute changes to the warrant. I'm to have full access to not only Gardner's office and computer but also your area and computer as well."

The woman snagged up the warrant as she asked, "Why? I didn't do anything," she protested as she opened the warrant and read it over.

Alex looked over her shoulder and waved the officers and CSU team inside. As they swarmed around the two offices, Miss Peltier kept protesting and yelling at the tech who was shutting down her laptop and placing it into a box.

"Hey, you can't just-"

"Yes, he can," Alex told her as she pulled out a pair of latex gloves and slipped them on. "This is no longer a missing persons, but a murder investigation."

The woman gapped as she looked over at her. Gasping out, she said, "He's dead!" Then the tears started and her near panic.

Just great, Alex thought as she steered the grieving woman over to the couch along the opposite wall. Where was Goren when she needed him? He would be able to comfort her and get some information at the same time.

"Miss Peltier-"

"Please, call me Ileana," she told her as she sucked in deep breaths.

Alex wanted to roll her eyes but that would be highly inconsiderate in a moment like this. The woman did just find out that her boss was dead, murdered. "Ileana we need to confirm your whereabouts Tuesday night."

Ileana looked up at her through red rimmed eyes and asked, "Am I a suspect?"

"No, it's just for clarification purposes."

"Oh, I was home alone."

Alex highly doubted that for some reason. "Alone? Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," she told her as she closed her eyes to steady her breathing. "I live alone, detective."

"You didn't go out on a date, or receive any phone calls at home?"

Shaking her head, she told her, "It was a quiet night. I knew Alec would be busy going over the case for the indictment so I didn't bother calling him."

"What about Wednesday?"

"Wednesday I was here and then at the courthouse."

Alex gave a nod as she looked around. At spotting the video camera in the corner, she asked, "does that record?"

Ileana looked up in the corner and nodded, "Of course. Our security company put those in every office and hallway over the summer after a man who was suspected of killing his wife got pass security with a gun."

"I remember that," Alex told her as she told a CSI to find the security office where the video feed from this room was recorded, as well as ADA Gardner's office. Turning back to Ileana, she asked, "I need you to stay here until the warrant is fully executed and then you can leave."

As she headed into Gardner's office, she heard Logan's voice coming from the other room. She had called him to let him know that the warrant was good to go and to get to the courthouse as soon as possible.

"One would think Gardner was killed in here with how many CSI's and uniforms hanging around," he said as he secured his shield to his jacket lapel.

"You take the desk while I take the file cabinets?"

Logan rounded the desk and sat down in Gardner's chair. "Fine by me, I get to sit while I do my search. His laptop's missing."

Alex went to open the file cabinet when it caught, locking it place. "Damn. While you're searching for anything incriminating, find me the key to this thing."

Logan glanced up at her and smirked. "Nice one, Eames. Maybe it's on his key chain, which is in evidence with half the keys melted."

"Right," she sighed and looked back at the cabinet. "Anyone have a crowbar?"

A CSI, one that Bobby knew by name but she didn't, told her, "We have one in the van, Detective Eames. I'll get it for you."

"Thanks," she told him as she opened the closet door and sighed at the amount of case file boxes and newspapers that were piled on top of each other. "Great, a hoarder. He has a computer and a filing room for a reason."

"What reason is that?" Logan asked as he lifted a handful of files out of the desk and started to shuffle through them.

"To eliminate clutter and make it easier for us cops to search for evidence."

"I bet Goren's a hoarder," Logan teased.

Alex turned to him and said, "He claims that everything he keeps is for a purpose, like solving a case. He has things sitting in his desk for no apparent reason until he has to use it to determine a theory of his." She heard her ringtone go off, singling that she'd received a text message. Taking it out, she saw that it was from Bobby.

"It's hoarding no matter the reason."

"Well, I can't argue there," she said as she read the text. Bobby was letting her know that they wouldn't be going out tonight to the bar; he was too tired and heading home straight from SVU. "He does have a collection of newspapers in his closest dating back to 1993."

Logan looked up at her as he asked in all seriousness, "Really?"

Alex gave a huff of a laugh as she put her phone back in her pocket and said, "Really. And a single box with newspapers going back to the second world war which belonged to his father."

"Wow, I was only joking, but…that's just weird." Logan went back to searching through the files. "I haven't found a single one pertaining to the Patterson case."

"Maybe Miss Congeniality has them," she snarked as the CSI guy returned with the crowbar.

"No, they would have been with him if he took the case home to review it. They were either burnt up in the car or they're still missing."

Alex took the crowbar and used it to break open the file cabinet. "And even if they are still missing, it doesn't mean that he was killed because of that case. It could be any of these cases."

"We have twelve years worth of grudges to sort through, Eames."

"Then let's start at most recent and work backwards. We'll also see who's up for parole, who's out on parole, and if there's been any recent threats on his life." She heard her cell phone ring and quickly pulled it out. Answering, "Eames," as she pulled out the file handful of files. "They what? That's great. Yeah, have the lab get started right on it right away." Alex hung up the phone as she shook her head and looked over at a confused looking Logan. "You would never guess what they found after they cleared Franklin Avenue of all that flood water."

"What?"

"Gardner's briefcase containing his laptop, case files, and cell phone."

"The holy grail," Logan smiled as he leaned back in Gardner's office chair with a sigh. "I have a feeling this case is going to bust wide open with this. Who found it?"

"A jogger out on his run. It was on the side of the road in the bushes along the inlet."

Logan got up as he told the uniform at the door, "You got the scene. Have CSU box up everything, all his files, clean the place out, and take it all back to 1PP."

"I've got it, detective," the uniform told him as Logan led her out of the office.

Eames didn't bother protesting them leaving the office. The laptop and the cell phone were the most important items to be found on this case so far, besides the body. They were top priority and their main focus as they headed out of the building and back to 1PP.


Bobby & Alex's Apartment

As soon as she walked into the apartment, she knew something was up. The lights were turned down low and there was music softly drifting through the air. Alex smiled and shook her head as she entered the kitchen. Bobby had definitely surprised her. Setting her purse on the table and then shrugging off her coat, she spotted a red rose taped to the entryway to the living room with a note attached to it.

Taking the rose, which she realized was made of plastic, along with the note off the frame she went to take a step when she read the first word on the note. It said 'Stop!', then, 'Look down and follow.'

Alex frowned as she stepped back and then looked at the floor. "You've got to be kidding me," she said with a smile before chuckling.

On the floor, leading in a line for her to follow, were Hershey's Kisses. Picking them up as she went, she followed the individually wrapped pieces of chocolate all the way through the living room, down the hallway, and not to the closed bedroom door as she expected, but instead to the closed bathroom door. The doors being closed were important because they always left them open when they were gone.

There was another plastic red rose taped to the door but no note, however, she ventured a guess that she had to open that door so she grabbed the knob and turned. The moment she pushed the door open, her jaw nearly dropped.

Lighted candles were everywhere: along the counters, circling around the tub, and lining the edge of the tub against the wall. Her radio that she had put in the bathroom when she moved it was on and softly playing a CD she'd mixed that was full of her favorite romantic songs. Right then Billy Joel's 'She's Got A Way' was playing and she had to smile at the lyrics.

Sitting on a stand next to the tub was a bottle of her favorite red wine with a wine glass already filled waiting for her along with a wrapped box and a red envelope with her name on it. As she stepped further into the room, she could see inside the tub as tears filled her eyes. The tub was filled with water and what appeared to be hundreds of real red rose petals.

Another note was taped to the edge of the tub but no rose. Lifting it up, she took the note in hand and read it. 'Now that I have kissed the ground you walk on, and showered you with roses, will you forgive me by still being my one and only valentine?'

She felt a hand on her shoulder before his arm was around her waist, and then his voice in her ear.

"Well, what is your answer?"

Smiling through the tears in her eyes, she turned in his arms and kissed him.

"I take that as a yes," he said with a slight smile on his face. "The bath water was burning hot when I filled it so it should be perfectly warm by now…Enjoy it, okay."

"You're not joining me?"

"I would love to, but if I get in I'll fall asleep. Besides, I don't mind letting you have this to yourself," he told her before kissing her again. "We'll do something together tomorrow, after the craziness of the holiday dies down. Tonight is for you to relax and have a quiet evening. And," he said as he reached behind him to pick something off the floor. It was her strainer. "You can use this to clean out the roses when you're done, or come get me and I'll do it," he told her with a wink, causing her to smile.

"Okay, I'll do that, but before you go can I ask you why only two roses? And plastic?"

Bobby smiled as he told her, "One rose for every year we've been together as a couple, and the reason they're plastic is so that they won't die. I want to keep adding to them…year after year. Who knows, maybe we'll make it to twelve….What'd you think?"

Alex could only nod as she couldn't speak. In all the years she had known him, been with him, that was the most loving, and romantic thing he'd ever said, that proved to her that he was actually hoping, and wanting, their relationship to last. "I think twelve is a good number to shoot for," she finally managed to say as she pushed up on her toes to kiss him again.

When she ended the kiss, Bobby gave her another smile as he left the room and went back into the bedroom. "I've got the door," he told her as she gave a nod and turned around as she begun to undress for her bath.

Getting into the tub, she let out a deep sigh and relaxed as she felt all the tension that'd built up after days of stress ease. After popping a chocolate into her mouth, she picked up the red envelope and opened it. Inside was a Valentine's card profusely love to the reader through gold cursive letters. It was too sappy for Bobby to ever say himself, but it brought a smile to her lips. Opening the card, she only saw 'Love Bobby' written at the bottom of the card; however, she was rewarded with two new gift cards.

One was for $500 at her favorite lingerie store in Manhattan, which was very expensive and across from Central Park on 5th Avenue, and the other was for a free ear-piercing. That one made her sit up as she looked at it. Then her eyes went to the box next to the wine bottle. Picking up the box and putting the cards down, she opened it and her breath caught.

She remembered talking to Bobby about wanting to get her ears pierced again, and the kind of earrings she would get if she did. It had been last month, when they were hardly speaking or even being together. She had said it in passing, while they were both on the couch watching something on the TV, and she hadn't thought that he had heard her.

He had not only heard her but remember and knew exactly what kind of earrings she'd been talking about because they were sitting in that box. Looking at the closed bathroom door, she wrinkled her forehead in confusion as she noticed a silk gown that hadn't been there before. It was the only thing hanging on the back of the door and it had a bow wrapped around it.

Shaking her head, and then laughing at her man's antics, she picked up the wine glass and took a sip before leaning back in the tub as she closed her eyes and just enjoyed the precious time she had to unwind.

Awhile later, she dried off and slipped on her new silk gown and wrapped it around her body. Perfect fit, and it was so comfortable. She opened the door and headed into the bedroom. At not seeing Bobby in there, she headed down the hall and saw the study door shut. Giving a knock, she opened it and found him sprawled out on the pullout couch asleep. On the desk was a bottle of Tylenol PM and half a glass of water.

Sighing, she put the bottle back down as she walked over to the pullout and sat on the edge. Leaning over, she gave him a kiss on his cheek before getting up and leaving the room, making sure to close the door behind her.

Bobby could definitely be a stubborn man at times, but she knew as long as they kept figuring out how to make this work, ten more years together would be worth it.

TBC…