In many ways, Terrance Sutter remained a simple man, not much different from the boy who grew up in the Bowery. He sat at a quiet table in the back of a small restaurant on St. Mark's Place, just off Cooper Square. The food was simple, but good, and he always returned there when he sought to reconnect with his roots and remind himself from whence he came.

The waitress was new, hired since the last time he'd been there, and he smiled when she brought his plate. As he salted his eggs, someone slid into the booth across from him, ordering a coffee and the breakfast special as he did. Sutter looked up and reached out his hand across the table. His companion accepted the handshake. "How is Frankie doing, Terry?"

"Good. Rod picked her up from the hospital the other day. She's out on the Island with Missy and the baby."

"If your family is out on the Island, what are you doing in the city? Missy only comes down from Connecticut to see her daddy."

Sutter smiled at the reminder. Missy had been a Daddy's girl since the day she was born. "Something came up," he explained. "Beno, I have a favor to ask."

"Just say the word, my friend."

Sutter broke the yolk on his sunny side up eggs and dipped his toast into it. "How do you feel about protecting cops?" he asked, taking a bite.

"You're joking, right?"

"No, I'm not."

Masucci knew that if his old friend was making such a request of him, knowing that he was not particularly fond of cops, he had to have a solid reason to do so. "Go on," he said with a wave. "I'm listening."

It was a testament to their friendship that Beno was even listening to his request, and Sutter knew it. Considering his line of work, cops were not exactly his favorite people. But Sutter knew that neither officer worked in the organized crime unit, so they were unlikely to target Masucci just for the hell of it. They would go after Beno only if they had a reason to pursue him, which they did not. Beno was a very careful man. "It seems the Triad has targeted a pair of New York's finest and I'm worried about them."

The Triad was the name by which the Chinese mob was known. Although Sutter had never been involved with anyone in Masucci's line of work nor was he ever likely to be, he was very familiar with the world in which Masucci had come to manhood and of the legacy left to him by his father and his father's father. Masucci thanked the girl who brought his coffee and dumped two packets of sugar into the hot liquid. As he stirred it, he said, "These cops must be something special for you to even ask such a thing. You know how I feel about cops."

"Yes, I do, and under normal circumstances, I would never even consider asking such a thing. But..." He rubbed his forehead as the events of the past week weighed heavily on his mind and his heart. "There are very special circumstances involved here, Beno, both business and personal. On the business side of things, Annie Kim and Morris Franklin were murdered last week."

"Oh, God...what happened?"

"Remember I told you they were going on a scouting mission to Southeast Asia?"

"Yeah. You said they got some great stuff."

"They did. But while they were there, they were asked to export some goods for a generous fee. Annie knew the stuff wasn't worth what they were willing to pay, and she told them so. She was very suspicious and she chose to decline the offer. Morris, of course, backed her and so did I."

"You think the Triad whacked them?"

"I'm sure of it now. And so are the cops who are investigating the case."

"And?"

"I'm guessing the Triad knows as well. They pulled a hit on one of the cops. He survived, but I'm afraid they won't give up."

"So? That's the price they pay for doing their job. I still don't see that it's any of my business."

Sutter took a bite of bacon as the waitress brought Masucci his plate. Once she was gone, Sutter said, "It turns out, this cop is family, Beno."

"Family? Family how?"

"Frankie was married and divorced before I met her. She told me her two sons died in a house fire. It turns out that fire was a delusion, concocted by her mind when it was at its most ill. Her boys didn't die. Her younger son, Robert, is the cop who survived the hit. He's survived quite a lot, actually."

"Hmph," Masucci grumbled as he added salt and pepper to his plate. "It's still quite a favor you're asking, Terry."

"I know that. But...I've talked to this man, and I've grown extremely fond of him. He should have been my son. I've been robbed of three decades of his life. I don't want to see the Triad take him out now."

Masucci began eating in earnest while Sutter pushed his remaining toast through his eggs and swirled the rest of the egg into his potatoes. He didn't push any further. Masucci knew his request and he knew the reason why he made it. He would give him an answer when he was ready. They finished eating and got refills of their coffee. Masucci looked across the table at his old friend. "Names?"

"Robert Goren and his partner, Alexandra Eames. They work out of 1 Police Plaza, the Major Case Squad."

"Major Case? Do you know what you're asking?"

Sutter nodded. "I know, but it's important to me."

"What exactly did they do to draw the attention of the Triad?"

"They're after justice for Annie and Morris. That's all. The other day, they showed me a picture of a man. I didn't recognize him, but he was the one who broke into Robert's apartment and stabbed him during a struggle. He must be an enforcer for the Triad. But they aren't after the group—just the man who killed Annie and Morris."

Masucci was quiet, thinking hard as he finished his coffee. "Okay, Terry," he said finally. "On the strength of our friendship, I will put out the word that these officers are off limits, that they're under my protection. The Triad will not be happy, but they will back off. They don't have the numbers in New York not to listen."

"I would never have asked if it wasn't important to me."

"And that's why I agreed. You have never exploited our friendship. I trust Frankie's son will not be a disappointment to you."

"I don't think he will. Thank you, Beno."

Masucci smiled. "Just don't let it get around that I agreed to protect police officers."

Sutter got up from the table and Masucci followed suit. The two men embraced and Sutter pulled out his wallet. "My treat this time."

"Join me for a round of golf next weekend?"

"I may be out in East Hampton."

"I would be more than happy to play at your club out there. As I recall, the last time we played out there, you beat me by three strokes. You owe me a rematch."

"I'll give you a call."

"Let me know how it goes with your stepson."

Sutter nodded, paid the tab and the two men went their separate ways.

Eames sat by the window, reading the paper, as Goren slept. She pulled out her phone when it rang. "Eames."

"Hello, Detective Eames. This is Terrance Sutter. How is Robert?"

"Hello, colonel. He's doing better."

"I'm happy to hear it. I would like to visit him, if I may."

"Of course. He's in room 723 at St. Vincent's. I'm here now and I can authorize your visit."

"Thank you, detective. I'll see you soon."

She set her phone on the windowsill and went back to her paper until Goren woke about half an hour later. A nurse came in before he could say anything, ready to get him up to sit in a chair. She pulled a syringe from her pocket and he balked. "No. I don't need any more pain medicine."

"You'll change your mind when we get you moving. Remember yesterday?"

The day before he'd adamantly refused any pain medicine. They'd gotten him up anyway, and the pain surged to the point that he nearly passed out. At that point, Eames had been able, as his proxy, to override him and they gave him the medicine he needed.

"I'm better today," he insisted.

"You are two days post-op. You are not that much better yet."

Eames could see that he was going to be stubborn. "Well, Clara," Eames began. "I guess you'll just have to stay here until he agrees."

Goren looked at them both with irritation. He wanted to be alone with Eames and she knew it. "Fine," he grumbled after a couple of minutes.

Clara gave him the medicine and promised to return in fifteen minutes, to give it a chance to take hold before getting him out of bed.

Once she was gone, he pushed himself up a little higher in the bed. The pain was beginning to ease. Eames came over and sat on the edge of the bed by his side. "How do you feel this morning?" she asked.

The scowl began to slip from his brow and he slid his hand into hers. "Better. Is that today's paper?"

"Yes. I'll give it to you when you're up in the chair. You can read it while you eat your breakfast."

"I'm not hungry."

"Bobby, you need to eat. You're never going to get out of here if you don't do what they tell you to do."

He frowned again. He didn't like being told what to do, not even by her, although he took it better from her than from anyone else. She leaned in and kissed him. His frown faded. "How about a bribe?" he suggested playfully.

She knew then that he actually was feeling much better. Over the past two days, he hadn't done much more than sleep and grump at her, unhappy to be restricted and angry that she wouldn't discuss the case with him. His pain made his irritability much worse. So she knew, the grouchier he got, the more pain he was in. So far she'd managed to get him to allow the nurses to give him medicine for his pain, but it was getting harder to convince him. However, she was learning how to manipulate his desires for his own good.

"Okay," she agreed, raising his hand to her mouth and kissing his fingers. "You eat your breakfast and I'll read you one article from the paper."

She'd been surprised to discover how much he enjoyed having her read to him, regardless of what she read. It could be the back of a cereal box; he loved to listen to her voice. There was something about the intimacy of it that turned him on. "Two," he pressed.

She felt a warm rush, fed by her memories. She had yet to complete anything that she began reading aloud to him. She saw it as a challenge. "Okay, two. But you have to eat everything."

"Read one of them to me while I eat."

"I'll think about it."

He reached out and tickled her side. Surprised, she laughed and squirmed, bending at the waist to pull her side away from his hand. Smiling, he took advantage of her position to pull her closer and kiss her. Although she knew that the nurse would return at any minute, she surrendered to his kiss. When his hand slid over her breast, though, she sat up. She knew how quickly passion could escalate between them, especially when he was being playful, and he wasn't as well as he wanted her to believe. She squeezed his hand and slid off the bed as the door opened.

Clara smiled at them. She had been a nurse for thirty years, and she knew people. They could call themselves whatever they wanted, she recognized lovers when she saw them. She also knew police officers—partners were not supposed to be lovers. She saw that they were trying to keep the private side of their relationship private, and she respected that. She would do nothing to out them to their boss or their colleagues.

With Eames' help, she got him out of bed and into the chair. He was fairly comfortable in the pajamas Eames had gotten for him—a lot more comfortable than he would have been in a hospital gown—and he let his nurse fuss over him for a few minutes.

"There you are," she said. "Let's see how long you can be up comfortably. You lasted half an hour yesterday. Let's try an hour today."

"How long do I have to stay up before you let me go home?"

She smiled. "That's up to your doctors, dear."

Clara stripped his bed and remade it while Eames got his breakfast and arranged it on the tray table.

"Just call me if you need anything," the nurse said as she left the room.

Eames wheeled the tray in front of him. "Do you want me to heat up your coffee?"

"No. I want you to stay here," he answered, rubbing his hand lightly over the bandages on his side.

"Do you hurt?" she asked, reading his tone and his actions.

"No...yes. I...yes, I hurt. Just give me a minute for the pain to settle."

She pulled up a chair and took his free hand in hers. She began to massage his hand, giving him a focus other than his pain. His tension slowly eased as the medicine took hold of the pain again. He leaned toward her and freed his hand to pull her closer. She slid her arms around his neck and hugged him. "I don't want to be here any longer," he murmured into her ear. "I want to go home and be with you."

She shivered at the tone of his voice and the whisper of his breath across her ear. "I know," she replied. "But you have more healing to do before you can go home, before we can do anything. The better you cooperate, the sooner you get to leave."

He grunted softly and turned his head, brushing his lips over her cheek to her mouth. He caught her in a kiss that quickly intensified. She relaxed against him, allowing them both a chance to enjoy the contact before she pulled away. She couldn't let it go on too long. Her body yearned for him, aching to be with him, and she knew he felt the same longing. She touched his mouth and he kissed her fingertips.

"Eat your breakfast," she said, walking over to her chair and picking up the paper. "I'll read one article while you eat and another after you finish. What do you want to hear? Headlines, local news, sports..."

"Headlines."

She settled into the chair and searched for a news story in which he would be interested while he looked over his food. He was unimpressed. He had progressed to a full liquid diet, which was a little better than clear liquids, but not much. While she read, as promised, he ate his breakfast, enjoying the sound of her voice a great deal more than he enjoyed his food.

He had just finished eating and she was clearing off the tray table when her phone rang. She pulled it out. Logan. Taking the call, she put the phone to her ear. "Eames."

"Hey, sorry to bother you. Wheeler and I are at the squad...you need to come over here. Now."

"What is it?" she asked, annoyed.

"This is something you have to see for yourself. Right away. Ross is on his way in, too, and I'd rather you got here first."

She looked at her partner, who had perked up with interest. "All right, Mike. I'll be right there."

She ended the call and shoved her phone in her pocket. "I have to run over to the squad room. I'll be back as fast as I can."

"What's going on?"

"He wouldn't tell me over the phone."

"Are you going to tell me?"

She leaned down to kiss him. "Yes, I'll tell you as soon as I get back."

"Promise?"

His tone told her he wasn't sure she meant it. "I promise."

"I finished my breakfast. You owe me."

"Absolutely. When I get back."

He nodded, leaning back in the chair. "I'll be waiting."

She smiled as she stepped into her shoes. "Behave," she teased.

"What am I gonna do?"

She gave him a look of deep affection and left the room.