A/N: Thanks for the continued support. I really do appreciate it.


Bobby was deep in thought as he completed the paperwork that accompanied the close of every case, so much so that he didn't hear Alex call out his name five times. In fact, he didn't even so much as twitch until the wad of paper hit his forehead, smack in the center.

He looked up sharply at his partner, "What was that for?"

"You weren't paying attention, Bobby," Alex said. "Now, I asked you if you figured out what you're doing for Trish's birthday, yet."

Her partner smirked, "Of course, Eames. We're eating breakfast with you, right? At that cafe a few blocks from you house?"

She nodded, "Seven thirty on the dot, Bobby. I'm giving her her present then, too."

"What are you getting her?" Bobby asked, trying to get an idea of what a good present for a girl's sweet sixteen was.

Alex grinned, "Nuuh, Goren. You can't steal my idea. You'll just have to be as surprised as she is on Sunday."

Bobby sent her a half hearted glare before he turned back to his paperwork, "You know, Eames, Lewis can't figure out what to get her, either. It's a terrible problem with men - we don't know how to shop."

"Bobby," Alex said, drawing his eyes up to look at hers, "Whatever you get her will be wonderful and she'll love and cherish it."

"How do you know that?"

"Because she'll be getting it from you."


"What about this one?" Mike asked, pointing to one of the necklaces in the display.

Carolyn looked at it and then at him like he was insane, "Stop shopping for your grandmother, Mike. She's a sixteen-year-old girl - not sixty! Oohhh!" She picked up one of the nearby purses - a high end Coach bag. "She'd like this."

Mike looked at the price tag attached to the bag and just looked at his partner like she'd suggested he buy the teen a Porsche. Carolyn rolled her eyes at him, "Come on, Mike! We'll go in on it together. She'd really like it."

"I thought she didn't like brand name stuff like this?"

Carolyn rolled her eyes again at him, "Every teenage girl likes high end designer bags, Mike. It's just about finding the right one - and I'm pretty sure this is it."

"Fine, Barek. We'll get her the bag."


Trish examined herself in the mirror. She adjusted the sweater-vest she wore before deciding that the yellow gold earrings she was wearing didn't go with her outfit and needed to be silver. Her hair was in a French braid, sitting between he shoulder blades. She wore black slacks with a boot cut, and a comfortable pair of brown suide boots she had purchased back in Vegas. Beneath her black vest she wore a baby blue, three-quarter length sleeved, oval necked shirt. All in all, she looked pretty good ... aside from the cast that still covered her left hand.

"Hey, you ready?" Bobby asked from the doorway. He looked in on his niece and smiled slightly, "You look beautiful, Trish. She's going to love you."

Trish glanced at him, dressed in khaki pants and a black sweater. She nodded, mutely, wondering if he was right in the assumption that the woman she was going to meet would love her ... or even like her.

"Don't be scared, Trish," Bobby told her some time later as they walked into the Carmel Ridge care facility. "If she starts to have a break, I'll get you out of there, okay? I don't want you to see her like that."

The teen nodded, "Okay, Uncle Bobby. I just hope she likes me."

He stopped her just short of the receptionist's desk and put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Bobby smiled reassuringly at his young niece, "She's going to love you. Never doubt that."

She nodded and Bobby introduced Trish to the receptionist, Hannah. "It's nice to meet you, Trish," Hannah said with a smile. "You look like your grandmother."

"I hear that a lot," Trish replied with her own smile.

"You can go on in now, Detective."

"I'm going to go in first and tell her you're here, okay?" Bobby told his niece. "Just give me a few minutes before you come in."

"Okay," Trish replied, taking a seat in one of the chairs that lined the walls. She sat there and waited for a few minutes before she could stand to wait no longer and got up to go meet her grandmother.

"Hi," the teen whispered when she saw the elderly woman sitting on her bed, looking like a much older version of the teen, herself.

"Don't just stand there," Francise Goren said irritatedly, "Come on and give your old grandmother a hug."

Trish smiled tentatively and went to do just that. When she breathed in the perfume Francise was wearing, tears came to her eyes and she had to pull back. Her watery smile met her grandmother's as she explained, "Dad used to spray that on my blankets when I was little. He told me it was so I'd never forget what you smell like."

Francise just smiled back at the girl. She would sometimes worry that she'd die without having any grandchildren, and this one girl's existance quenched all those fears. The woman still wanted to see her younger son happy with at least a wife before she died ... but knowing that she was a grandmother would have to be enough for now.

"Now, dear," Francise said, motioning for Trish to sit next to her on the bed, "Tell me about yourself. How do you pass the time?"

"Well ... I read a lot. I'm working through Charles Dickens' works right now, but I just finished reading 1984."

As the granmother and granddaughter talked and got to know each other, Bobby took a back seat in the room and just watched them interact with a small smile on his face. It was almost a bitter smile as he remembered his own teenage years and how difficult home life had been for him - taking care of his mother all on his own ... But he couldn't begrudge his niece a good relationship with his mother. They both deserved it.


"How'd it go?" Alex asked him on the phone late that night when Bobby couldn't sleep and he knew that his partner would be up as well.

"Good," he replied carefully. "It was a good day. I think Mom was tickled pink when she found out about Trish's book obsession. Do you think ...?"

"No, Bobby, you can't just buy her a book she hasn't read and expect that to be a good birthday present. It has to be something better."

"Define better, Eames."

"It's simple: bet-ter," Alex said it slowly this time, to make sure that he understood precisely how serious she was about it. "All girls need diamonds. You could get her one of those."

"I don't think she wants a clear stone that's a lot more common than people in the U.S. think it is. I'm not too into blood diamonds, either, Eames."

"Try a black diamond, Bobby. I know a jeweler who's very picky about the history of his diamond collection. You'll be able to find something pretty and clean of all blood. I'm sure of it."

"I'll think about it."

"I wouldn't expect any different from you, Goren."

He heard some water splashing in the background, "What are you doing, Eames?"

"Taking a bath, why?"

"You're calling me from your bathtub?" Bobby raised his eyebrows, the thought of Eames naked and wet entering his mind unbidden.

"You got a problem with that, Goren? Besides - you're the one that called me, remember? If you have stipulations on what I'm supposed to be doing while on the phone with you, please, tell me now so I can remember for next time."

Bobby rolled his eyes as he stifled a yawn, "Goodnight, Eames. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning for Trish's birthday breakfast."

"Night, Goren. Sleep well."

With the visions now floating in Bobby's mind about his partner (very ... unprofessional visions), he was sure that wouldn't be a problem.


A/N: This last part was just a little reminder that the fluff IS coming...relatively soon.