A/N: In real world New York, the OCME (Office of the Chief Medical Examiner) offices, mortuary, autopsy suites and labs are located at 520 First Avenue, about 14 miles away from 1 PP. It would take about a half hour to get there from Major Case, depending on traffic. As an assistant chief medical examiner, it stands to reason Rodgers would work out of that office. In Frame, however, it took Ross and Eames minutes to respond to Goren's temper tantrum in the morgue, leading us to believe it was housed in the same building. He would have been long gone if they'd had to drive for a half hour in midday Manhattan traffic to get there. So, for the purposes of this story, Rodgers is close by, as she seems to be in the L&O world.

Goren woke as the sun came up to find Eames nestled beside him in the bed, her hand in the center of his chest. Her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her with his hand laying on her hip. He was comfortable, and he felt...good. He felt very good. As she requested, he'd trusted her, the first time he had placed his faith in anyone other than Frank, and it paid off in spades.

Sensing he was awake, she stirred. Opening her eyes, she smiled and kissed his cheek. "Good morning," she whispered into his ear.

He made a soft noise and turned his head to kiss her. "Good morning," he answered.

She gently stroked his chest and snuggled against him. He was surprised that she liked to snuggle, but apparently, she did, at least with him. He could take it or leave it, but he liked physical contact with her, very much. The more she snuggled, the more he liked it.

"I, uhm, I'm sorry you didn't get much sleep."

"I can function for a day on a couple of hours. Just don't expect me to be Susie Sunshine."

He laughed quietly. "Okay, I won't."

Smiling, she played with the soft hair that curled on his chest. "Can I ask you something?" she asked quietly.

"Go ahead."

"Last night when I first got here and at the diner, you were very confident, but when we got back here after we ate, you kind of fell apart. I've never seen you so uncertain with me. What happened?"

He tucked his arm behind his head and pulled her closer with his other arm. "I...I thought about it, about us and what it all means. I know how I am, how I've always been, and I...I was afraid to risk losing you."

She lifted her head and looked around the room. "I'm still here."

"Yes, you are."

"Have you lost interest in me?"

"Not by a long shot."

"Well, there we go."

He was genuinely surprised to discover that he had not lost interest in her. The strength of his emotional connection to her was apparently enough to withstand the power of sex. He had honestly intended to take it slow, but apparently she did not feel the same way. And his body went right along with her, betraying him at every turn. To his amazement, it had turned out well. The experience had been amazing, and he wanted more, which did not surprise him. What did surprise him was that his emotional connection to her was still very much intact. He still loved her.

"Alex," he murmured softly. "What about work?"

"What about it?"

"We, uhm, now...what if...you know..."

She smiled and looked at him. "Relax. Work is work. Just be yourself and do your job. I have complete faith that you can be professional and we'll be just fine."

She stretched a little and teased his lips with a light kiss, reigniting a fire deep in his gut. His hand strayed over her shoulder, into her hair, and he kissed her deeply. The fire grew as he played with her body to stoke a similar fire in her, and she responded wonderfully.

Goren sat at his desk and pulled a small stack of papers from his inbox. He leafed through them before he spoke. "I've got a preliminary autopsy report for Annie Kim. Uhm..."

Eames watched his brow furrow as he trailed off and seemed to lose himself in the pages he held. Before she could question him, the captain approached their desks. "Good morning, detectives."

"Good morning, captain," Eames replied as Goren glanced up, annoyed at having been interrupted.

Ross met Goren's glare. "How are you doing today, detective?" he asked.

"I'm fine, captain," he answered.

Ross nodded and turned to Eames. "Keep me updated on your progress in the case," he said. "Since the bodies seem to be turning up in high profile locations, the mayor is putting pressure on the brass to get this thing solved. That translates to pressure on me and you know where it ends."

"We're working on it, sir," she assured him.

Ross turned and walked away, and Goren made an impatient noise. Eames looked across the desks and gave him an encouraging smile. She motioned her hand toward the papers he was holding. "So...what did you find?"

"What? Oh, uh..." He shook his head. "It's probably nothing."

"If you noticed it, it's probably something."

He was quiet as he again looked over the papers he held. Then he flipped through the pages in his binder. "I...uh, do you remember those bruises I found on Morris' arms?"

She nodded. "What about them?"

Goren looked down at the desk, quiet for a few minutes. He turned to one of the reports. "There were no bruises on Annie Kim..." He shuffled the papers again. "Uhm, CSU didn't recover the bullet that killed Annie..." He searched for another report. "The best they can do is guess at the caliber and velocity of the bullet that killed her based on the wound and the amount of damage the bullet did. They haven't put their guess on paper yet." He looked thoughtful. "Morris Franklin...he had an entry wound in his head...but no exit wound. They'll recover the bullet when they open his skull...unless...the bullet could have exited without leaving an exit wound."

"How?"

He tapped the back of his head, trailed his hand along the side of his head and touched his mouth. "How likely is that?" she asked.

"I don't know, but it's a possibility."

He fell silent, chasing something in his head. She knew that far-off look in his eyes and she waited for a minute before she said, "What is it?"

He shook his head to clear it. He looked through the reports in his hand once more, chasing one to the floor when it escaped from him. When he sat back up, Eames was smiling, which distracted him a little. He stammered for a second before he found his train of thought. "I...I need to see Morris' body again."

"You know how much Rodgers hates it when you hover over her bodies. Harassing her isn't going to get us those autopsy reports any sooner."

He got to his feet. "But the mayor and the brass are pressuring Ross. She should share in that. Besides, it gives us some leverage. Come on."

With a sigh, she got up and hustled after him. He was so stubborn sometimes. It never went well when he challenged Rodgers and she had no reason to believe it would this time. She knew she would never convince him to just wait, though, so she had no real choice but to go along with him.

They entered the elevator, which was empty, but they stood on opposite sides of the car from each other, and she watched him. He shifted nervously as he watched the digital readout tick off the passing floors. "Are you okay?" she asked.

He looked at her with a puzzled scowl. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seem agitated...well, more agitated than usual."

He moved his head, but she wasn't sure what the gesture meant. He rubbed the back of his neck and said, "This case...everything about it has me uptight. This...thing...with Colonel Sutter... has me distracted and I don't like being distracted."

"What about this...this...thing...between us?" she asked hesitantly, questioning their timing for the first time.

He looked at her sharply and she thought she saw panic flash in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You're complaining about being distracted..."

"But not about you distracting me," he said quickly, and she knew it was panic.

"Bobby..."

He made a sharp gesture that cut her off, giving the ceiling-mounted camera a sideways glance. She frowned. "They don't record sound," she said.

"You don't need sound to read body language."

"You think the guys watching these cameras are that good?"

"No, but I don't know how good Ross is yet and if he has any reason to review these cameras..."

"Like what? Don't you think he has better things to do than look through irrelevant video without cause?"

"I don't know, Eames. I haven't figured him out yet."

That was what her partner did. He figured people out, read them and sorted them into categories in his mind. Sometimes, he nailed a profile quickly. Other times, it took him awhile, and he was uneasy and agitated during the process. Ross was taking time to figure out, and he didn't like it at all.

By the time the doors opened on the lowest level of the building, his agitation had skyrocketed and she wasn't sure why. She did know that she had to calm him down, off camera, before he confronted Rodgers. The medical examiner worked with the dead because she didn't have the patience or the bedside manner to doctor the living, but she knew Goren and she genuinely liked him. And Rodgers was smart. She would know that he was off his game, so Eames had to fix it now, before they saw the medical examiner.

They stepped out of the elevator and Eames grabbed his arm, leading him around the corner into a hallway that led to the rest rooms, a couple of locked storage rooms and a janitor's closet. She pushed him against the wall beside the water fountain. "Listen to me," she began.

He touched her mouth with two fingers and looked up and down the hall, then grasped her shoulders and moved her back out of his way. Grabbing her hand, he led her further down the hall to the janitor's closet. Opening the door, he pushed her in ahead of him, flipping on the light as the door silently closed. It was large for a closet and held very few supplies on its shelves. Obviously, it wasn't often used, at least, not by janitors.

He backed her against a wall next to a sink that was shrouded with spider webs. "Now you can talk," he said softly, placing his hand against the wall by her head.

Her eyes darted around the room. "Come here often?" she asked.

"I've been here a few times," he admitted.

"To talk?" she pressed.

"Not usually."

She slowly shook her head. "We need to..."

He dipped his head down level with hers. "You wanted to talk," he said, his voice still soft. "So talk. This is better than pushing me up against a wall by the bathrooms."

"How is it better?"

"If I get...distracted..." he answered, glancing down the front of her shirt, much of his agitation now absorbed by energy with a different focus. "We don't have to worry about witnesses."

"And if someone else gets the same idea to use this room and walks in on us?"

"Very few people use this room, and Logan's not chasing anyone at 1PP at the moment."

She laughed. "You and Logan, huh?"

"And one or two others. Not many people like being in this part of the building. We won't be interrupted."

He trailed his finger along her throat to her collar bone and then down the center of her chest to her stomach. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. He pressed his mouth to her neck and murmured, "You wanted me to listen. I'm listening."

"You're not listening at all," she countered.

He pulled his head back and feigned an injured look. "I certainly am."

With a tender smile, she placed her hand on his cheek. "I just need you to calm down before we go to see Rodgers. If the captain starts checking in with other departments about your behavior, I don't want him to get anything other than a good report."

Goren frowned. "Why would he do that?"

"Deakins was concerned with results. He waited for negative reports to come to him and then he dealt with them. He wasn't so concerned with your behavior, and his trust paid off. Ross is a different kind of man. Along with results, he worries about appearances, and you make him nervous. He puts stock in the things he's heard about you, and that makes him reluctant to let you far out of his sight. Give him time. He'll settle down. But I need you to calm down first. Don't give him the ammunition he expects to find."

She watched his face as she talked, and by the time she was done, he seemed more at ease. He had also shifted his focus from the captain to her. He ran his hands over her shoulders. "I'll behave," he promised as he leaned in and kissed her.

She laughed as she pulled back as far as she could and spoke with her mouth just inches from his. "You call this behaving?"

He smiled. "I'll behave...in public," he retorted, closing the distance to just a fraction of an inch. Then, he whispered, "In private, I make no promises."

She laughed again, a delightful sound to him. "Leave it to you to find a way to bring this in to work."

"Where there's a will, there's a way," he replied, pressing his mouth against hers again.

Against her better judgment, she responded to him, slipping her hands under his jacket and then over his chest. She slid her arms around his neck and lightly teased the hair at the nape of his neck. With a shiver of delight and a quiet moan into her mouth, he deepened the kiss. His hands slipped beneath her shirt and he stroked her skin, working his way up her back toward her bra. She groaned as she lost herself to the sensations, squirming when he tickled and shifting her hips against him when arousal overcame her. When her bra popped loose, she pulled back from the kiss. "Bobby..." she whispered, a weak attempt at a warning.

He silenced her with another kiss and shifted his hips against her. She made a soft sound into his mouth and brought her hands around to his belt. He pulled her shirt over her head as she undid his belt and then his pants.

Unconcerned with anything but each other, feeling safe in their covert surroundings, they surrendered to the passion that consumed them.

Elizabeth Rodgers looked up from the body of Morris Franklin when Goren and Eames entered the room. She started to look back down then did a double take, studying them more closely. Goren arched his eyebrows, managing to look innocent. "Something wrong, Dr. Rodgers?"

She studied them for another minute before she said, "You look good, Goren."

"I do?"

She nodded. "Did you get some good sleep last night?"

"I had a good night," he admitted.

Not needing any more information and unwilling to subject Eames to the details of her partner's private life, she looked back down at the body in front of her. "I don't have any answers for you yet."

"Did you finish the autopsy of Annie Kim?"

He always managed to find a question she could answer after she asserted that she had nothing to tell them. She looked up again. "I did and you'll have the report this afternoon, with toxicology pending."

"The captain is getting a lot of pressure on this one," Eames explained.

"And he's shifting that pressure onto you," Rodgers acknowledged. She knew well how the transfer of pressure filtered down from the brass. "I get that. I'll be autopsying Mr. Franklin this morning so you can expect results tomorrow...minus toxicology, of course."

Goren's attention shifted to the body and Rodgers stepped back to let him have a look. Eames wasn't as eager to get up close and personal with their victims, but Goren had no reservations. He slowly circled the table where Morris Franklin lay, waiting to give up the secrets of his final moments. Goren focused all his attention on the victim while the two women watched him. When he folded himself in half to lean over and look into Morris' slightly open mouth, Rodgers asked, "What are you looking for, detective?"

"An exit wound," he replied.

Rodgers suppressed a smile. "If it's there," she replied, "his palate will be shattered. It's not something I would miss. I'll let you know."

He huffed in impatient frustration, straightened to his full height and looked over the victim, head to toe, once more before looking toward the two women.

Eames was stunned by the pain in Goren's expression as he met her eyes. When he looked toward Rodgers, his expression changed, but he was still pained. "What's wrong, detective?" the doctor asked.

"The bruises and lacerations," Goren said.

"I haven't evaluated them yet."

"His arms, legs and torso are covered with them, but his face and his genitals are untouched. He was...tortured before he was killed...but it wasn't personal. And...there's no sense of rage about it either. Whoever tortured him thought he knew something, and he wanted that information." He paused to circle the body again. "Annie Kim wasn't tortured."

"No," Rodgers agreed with him. "She wasn't."

"So maybe she didn't have the same information...or maybe it's something he didn't know he wanted when he killed her." He looked at Eames. "We need to pay a visit to the colonel's store in Chinatown, uh, Asia on Your Doorstep."

They started toward the door, but Goren turned back to Rodgers. "Thank you, doctor. We'll look for your reports."

Rodgers watched them leave, waiting until they were gone before she smiled. They were one of her favorite teams of detectives. She liked the way they worked together so seamlessly. Eames was good for him. She played a calming role in Goren's day-to-day life, and he needed that. Turning back to the body, she prepared for the autopsy as she waited for her assistant.

Asia on Your Doorstep was a modest storefront on Mulberry Street off Canal Street, just north of Columbus Park. Goren opened the door for his partner and followed her into the shop. More than half the store was devoted to items that were handmade by native craftsmen in many different Asian countries, from Vietnam and Borneo to Laos and Russia. He could identify crafts from Japan, Korea and Thailand as well as India, Bangladesh and Mongolia. The entire west wall of the shop, extending out to claim about a quarter of the store, was devoted to handiwork from the Arab countries of Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Iran, and several of their neighbors. Israeli crafts graced shelves in the center of the store. Bobby was impressed to discover that in some form, virtually every country in Asia was represented in the store. The very back of the store was a showcase for the antiques and collectibles that had been Morris Franklin's specialty. Among the several beautiful pieces of furniture were articles of ceremonial clothing, ornate knives and daggers and other artifacts that dated back before the time of Christ. Goren wondered if they were replicas, which was a distinct possibility. If so, they were as close to perfect as a replica could get without being the real thing.

Several signs placed around the shop advised shoppers that twenty percent of all sales went back to the native artisans and an additional ten percent funded programs that stimulated the economy and preserved natural resources, including native species of animals and plants endangered by the encroachment of man.

The place was fairly busy and they counted four sales people helping customers ready to purchase while another ten or twelve people browsed. Behind the counter hung Annie's picture, with a sign identifying her as the store manager. Goren picked up a paper that advertised the online store that Morris managed.

"Many places focus their energy on one area of Asia—southeast Asia, the Middle East, the Buddhist countries of the Himalayas—or one particular country—India, Russia, Japan, China, Nepal. Colonel Sutter, it seems, couldn't decide on one area, so he has something from every area of Asia. That's unusual, especially for a shop in Chinatown." Goren said to his partner.

"It seems to be successful," she replied.

"One stop shopping for Asian décor," he said.

She slid her arm into his and said, "We really need something for the living room, dear. It's just missing something."

He smiled briefly. He loved their undercover stints as a married couple. She tugged his arm and he followed where she led. He listened in long-suffering silence as she pointed out different items and described how nice they would look in their fictional living room.

She stopped suddenly and fell silent, looking at a shelf filled with stone sculptures. She picked up one and studied it, turning it over in her hands as she examined it from every angle. Without saying anything, she set it back on the shelf and moved on, her expression dark.

Goren watched her, looked back at the figurine and then followed after her. By the time they moved into the next area of the shop, her mood had once again lightened. He took her arm and asked, "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That Foo Dog...it triggered some kind of memory for you."

"I'm sorry. It's dumb..."

"Don't belittle your memories, Alex. Tell me."

She shook her head, embarrassed, but she knew he wasn't going to let it go. Shifting her position, she tucked her arm back into his and continued their wandering around the shop. "When I was little, my grandmother had a pair of statues just like that. My grandfather served in the Pacific during and just after the war. He brought them back for her, and she treasured them. After they died, my aunt got the statues, and I don't know what ever happened to them, but they looked just like that."

He was quiet as they continued through the shop. Goren stiffened when a salesman approached them. His name tag read 'Rodney.' "Hello, folks," he greeted with false friendliness. "What are we looking for today?"

Goren decided he was done playing games. "We're looking for Annie Kim," he said, straightening his shoulders as Eames withdrew from his arm.

"Ms. Kim isn't in today," he said as he moved back a step. "Maybe I can help you. I know our inventory just as well as she does."

"We prefer to deal with her directly," Eames said. "Can you tell us when she'll be in?"

"She doesn't check in with me," he said bitterly with a hint of anger.

Goren cocked his head to the left as he read resentment in the man's tone. "You don't like Annie Kim," he said, continuing to refer to her in the present.

Annoyed, the man took a moment to gather himself. "Is there something I can help you find?" he said, ignoring the question.

Goren pulled his badge from his pocket and held it up. Eames did the same. "Let's have a talk," Goren said as he grabbed the man's arm. "Our place."

They led him to the front of the store. "Rodney's taking his lunch with us," Eames said as she held up her badge to a sales girl who approached them as they got to the front door.

The rest of the staff exchanged puzzled looks as Rodney left with the two detectives.