-1Disclaimer: 'Law and Order: Criminal Intent' and all its characters belong to Dick Wolf. Not me. : (

A/N: I was reading over this story (using the site's version) and I noticed that this chapter was all centered, so I decided to resubmit it. Maybe it won't do that again. Sorry if it does, though.

Okay, so I've decided that I'm going to completely finish this story before I even think about adding onto my others. That way, I won't have as many ideas floating in my head and I'll be able to get the others done faster. Does that sound good to you guys?

Anyways, I made up Alex's sister's name. Don't think that's her real name because it's not. Does anyone know what her real name actually is? Same with Alex's nephews name.

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Twelve Years // Chapter Seven: Peanut-Butter Sandwich

Okay, so maybe they didn't get to have their talk. It was by the time that Alex had groggily rolled off the couch and trudged into the bathroom when she realized that Bobby wasn't in the apartment. Confused, she walked out to stare at the stove's digital clock and hissed when she found out that it was well past ten o'clock and just a couple of hours after their shift had started.

Well, a couple of hours after Bobby's shift had started.

At the moment, Alex had no shift. She had no freaking job due to the fact that goddamned Ross had suspended her. With a kick at the couch, Alex stormed into the bathroom and turned on the water until it was scalding hot.

---

Bobby felt alone and empty without his partner. There was no one to laugh with after they had made a sarcastic comment, there was no one to give a cup of steaming coffee to when they needed it the most, there was no one to listen to him as he went over a list of ideas, there was no one that could just look at him and know exactly what he was thinking. There was no one.

What was Ross thinking when he split them up? Was he on drugs? Without an Eames, there was no Goren. Without a Goren, there was no Eames.

They were like a peanut butter sandwich; you couldn't have a peanut butter sandwich without the peanut butter and the bread together. Without the bread, the peanut butter would have nothing to embrace it and it would go everywhere. Without the peanut butter, the bread would have nothing to hold onto and it would be just plain old bread.

And Bobby was really missing his bread.

With a sigh and a glance at Alex's desk, Bobby rose and walked for the door.

---

She crept towards the cabinet, afraid of what might be lurking behind the door. Evil dust bunnies? Killer moth balls? A creepy spider with a thousand slimy eyeballs? You never knew what to look for when you opened Bobby Goren's kitchen cabinets. Alex shuddered and position the fly-swatter in her hands as if it were a baseball bat. With a quick breath in, she reached over and plucked the door open.

To her surprised relief, nothing jumped out to suck her face off or burn the flesh off of her body. And then, once she studied the scene, she found there actually was nothing. Only some old bread. Not even a jar of peanut butter to go with it! How did Bobby eat if he had nothing? Did he chew on the coffee table?

With a growl, Alex tossed the fly-swatter behind her shoulder and walked into the living room where she slipped on her shoes. She then threw on her jacket and headed for the door. She was hungry, damn it, and Bobby's shelves needed to be filled.

Alex was shifting through the soups of a little corner grocery store when her cell phone began to chime. She pulled it out and studied the caller ID:

Ellen's Cell

Alex frowned at her younger sister's name, wondering what in the world she was calling her on her cell phone for. Alex remembered specifically telling Ellen that her cell phone was for work and emergency use only. Coming to the conclusion that Ellen was only calling because she most likely got a parking ticket and needed a way out of it, Alex flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Alex, he's gone," her sister's voice rang back, hiccupping sobs between each word.

Suddenly frightened by her sister's hysteria, Alex's training took over and she cupped the phone against her ear. "What is it, Ellen? Tell me slowly."

"Christopher. . . he's gone. They don't know what happen. There was a fire drill. Oh, God, Alex, Chris!"

"Ellen, Ellie," Alex tried to calm her sister by using her pet name. "Just calm down. Where are you?"

"Chris' preschool. Please hurry, Alex, I want my baby."

---

Alex really wished she had her badge, that way she could stop all the hysterical commotion that was swimming in the room. But fucking Ross had taken her badge, along with her gun, when he suspended her, so now she was out to fend for herself without the comforting weight on her hip.

Alex immediately spotted her sister and brother-in-law from across the room and cut the space between them in half with three long strides. Ellen turned towards her, teared up as she tossed herself into her sister's arms. "Oh, Alex! He's gone! Chris is gone!"

"Shh," Alex cooed as she ran comforting circles over Ellen's back. "Tell me who's in charge and we'll get to the bottom of this."

With a sniff and a swipe at her damp cheeks, Ellen pointed a shaking finger to a boney-looking woman in black. Alex glanced up at her brother-in-law, who all but read her mind and took his wife in his arms, guiding her away. Alex then turned to the woman Ellen had identified as the one in charge.

"My name's Alex Eames, I'm Ellen's sister - "

"I've seen you before," the older woman interrupted, giving Alex the once over. "You're a detective, I've see you on TV - "

"Please, not now." Alex ran her fingers through her hair. "Tell me what happened."

"In short; the fire alarm went off and we ushered the children outside as quick as we could. Once it was cleared that there was no fire and we got back inside, we took a headcount and noticed that Christopher was not among the children. We did a search of the surrounding area and, when we came up empty handed, we called your sister and her husband."

"Did you notice anything strange before the fire alarm went off."

"No, not really."

"Was anyone here that wasn't supposed to be?"

"Hm," the woman looked up, as if flipping through a mental notebook. "Ah, yes. There was a man standing at the doorway before the alarm went off. I was walking for him when the sirens went off."

Son of a bitch. Alex thought, and reached into her back pocket, pulling out a photo.

"That's him!" the woman said in triumph and had every bone in Alex's body turning to ice.

The photo was the face of David Fresco.