Fall spread its golden mantle over a city that welcomed the cooler weather with a collective sigh of relief. Winter would soon arrive and complaints of the heat would turn to complaints of the cold. Eames took Maggie shopping for winter clothes in late September. She invited Goren to join them but he'd turned her down. Almost a month had passed since then, and she could still sense him slipping away from her. She wanted to pull him back, but she had no idea how.

Goren squared himself and turned his upper body to the left. His shoulders and back were tense, feet firmly planted, eyes scanning the near distance as he waited expectantly. He heard the soft whump noise seconds before the sphere came hurtling through the air toward him. He swung the bat forward in one smooth motion. Crack. A solid, powerful hit, one he felt all the way into his shoulders. He took a moment to savor the feeling before he resumed his batter's stance and waited for the next ball.

He was alone, his only company the bat over his shoulder and the pitching machine down the line. Whump. Crack. Over the past few years, he'd generally come here with Logan after a few beers. Neither of them were very intent on hitting the ball. It was just something to do, something that took them away from the realities of their normal lives. And his normal life was something from which Goren desperately needed an occasional break. Okay, more than occasional, if he wanted to be honest, but he would take what he could get.

Four months had passed since Eames had unintentionally sabotaged his proposal to Denise. Life had calmed down for him and finally settled into a pattern he could live with. During the week, his world revolved around the victims of the crimes he and Eames investigated. He had come to a truce with her, one neither of them liked but knew was necessary. She remained as fully removed from his personal life as she could, and he did the same. It was far from ideal, but it was livable...barely. Truth be told, he didn't want to be removed from any part of her life, and he wouldn't but for his fear that her husband would turn his rage onto her or the baby, and that was intolerable. So he did the best he could and tried to stay away.

At the end of the work day, she went home to her domestic life and he went home to his empty one. On the weekends, he usually saw Denise. Saturday night blended into Sunday morning and sometimes even Monday morning. He found he could relax with her and the irritations of his daily life often melted away, at least for a few days.

During the week, after leaving the office, he often hung out with Logan, which was possibly the best part of his week. It wasn't about anything they did; it was about simple companionship without complications. Friday nights, if he didn't have plans with Denise, they usually hit one of the bars, whichever one they found themselves near once they'd eaten dinner. They were able to unwind in a way neither could during the workweek. Sometimes, Friday night would extend into the weekend and Goren had no complaints about that. His friendship with Logan was simple and undemanding-no regrets and no expectations. Unless he was on call, Goren turned off his phone and left it on his nightstand. For the first time in years, he found himself looking forward to the weekends. Whether he spent them with Logan or Denise, the weekends provided the escape he needed from his everyday life.

Then, there was Maggie. Although Eames never dropped by unexpectedly again, she was generous in sharing her daughter with him. In addition to letting him see her a couple of Saturdays a month, sometimes extending for the entire weekend; she let Maggie stay with him at least one night during the week, more if Ricky was working days. Goren never gave up a chance to see Maggie.

Although his life still wasn't what he wanted it to be, it was more settled than it had been in years. He had a grip on it once again. Whatever storms raged in his soul, they had calmed for the moment and left him alone. His self-destructive behaviors, for the most part, fell to the wayside. He was once more in control of his life and his emotions.

In the back of his mind, however, a small thought emerged. It was a nagging irritation, like a tickle in the back of his throat or an itch he couldn't quite reach. Suppose this was just the calm before another storm broke against the shore of his life?

Whump. Crack. He adjusted his helmet and readied himself once more. Whump. Crack. He continued until the last ball felt the crack of his bat. After taking a minute to contemplate continuing, he decided he was done and stepped out of the batting cage.

"You have a nice form," came a voice from the bleachers, a voice he knew well.

With a scowl, he turned toward his partner. "How did you know I was here?"

He hadn't told anyone where he was going, not even Logan. He wanted to be alone, without any distractions, to bring himself to terms with the brutal case they had just wrapped up. Eames was the biggest distraction in his life, as much as he tried for her not to be. At least, she was when he didn't have something else to occupy his mind. She stepped out of the bleachers. "I was worried about you."

His scowl deepened. "So you followed me?"

"Do I have any other choice? Every time I ask if you have plans, you act like I'm intruding and make me feel guilty."

"So you feel no guilt about following me?"

"I feel less guilt about following you."

He growled in frustration. He'd finally been feeling good, relaxed and ready to have dinner with Denise. Now he was tense and uptight. He looked at his watch; it was later than he thought. "What do you want, Eames?"

She hadn't missed his impatient glance at his watch. "Got a date?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, someone is waiting for me."

She frowned at his tone. "Is it wrong for me to care about you?"

"It's not that you care. It's how much you care, the way you care. You're my partner and that's all..." He looked at the ground. "That's all you can be."

His tone had changed and the volume of his voice dropped. She became annoyed. "Well, if you weren't so damn stubborn..."

He looked up sharply. "Don't go there," he warned, his tone now dark with anger.

Why was it every time they talked outside the context of their partnership, the conversation disintegrated into an argument? They got along great at work, as long as they didn't discuss their personal lives, except for Maggie. She knew better than to bring up her husband, and he never discussed anything personal.

She studied his face, not surprised to see the anger flashing in his eyes. "I don't want to upset you, Bobby, but I was worried. That was a difficult case, and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

His face softened. She was right; it had taken a lot out of him, which was why he was there, at the batting cages. He was trying to find a better way to cope with his emotions, but it was never going to work if she kept spinning him out of control. Every time she did this, he was reminded of what he didn't have and how much he wanted it...how much he wanted her. He didn't need any more setbacks.

Taking a chance, she moved closer to him. "Damn it," she said softly. "It hurts, Bobby. I love..."

"Please," he implored, his voice soft and full of remorse. "If you care at all, please don't say it."

They were both cursed by their deep attraction to one another, an attraction that transcended their partnership and had grown out of their friendship. She cursed herself for not seeing it before it was too late. Every time she tried to talk to him, though, he cut her off, refusing to listen. Reaching out, she rested her hand on his chest. "You keep withdrawing from me, further and further, and I don't understand. We used to be closer but over the last couple of years, I can't seem to reach you any more. It...It scares me. Dammit, Bobby, I don't want to lose you. I couldn't handle that. Please...don't leave me in the dust. Be my friend."

It was a conversation a long time in coming, one he knew they needed to have, even if he didn't want to go there. He looked down at her hand, gently moving it off his chest. "Eames, I have no place..."

She shook her head. "Do not say you have no place in my life. You have a very important place in my life and I am not willing to let you step away from it. I will fight with all I have to keep you close to me."

"Do you think for even a moment that I don't want to be close to you, that I don't..." He stopped before he said too much. "I have to go."

"Wait. I need to talk to you about something and you never give me a chance when we're on duty."

His tension became palpable. "Eames...I told you..."

"Calm down," she snapped, annoyed. "I promise I won't attack you."

His eyes narrowed and he tried not to lose his temper. She waved her hand dismissively and almost didn't ask what she wanted to ask him. "Is it that difficult for you to be with me off duty?"

He paused before answering, "I...yes, it can be very difficult, because..."

He stopped himself. Explaining would serve no purpose, and he just shook his head, his unrest increasing. When she reached out and tentatively touched his hand, he tensed, but did not withdraw. Encouraged, she squeezed his hand and stepped closer to him. "Next Friday is Halloween and it's the first one Maggie is old enough to enjoy. I want to take her around Dad's neighborhood—would you like to come along?"

As always, he jumped at the chance to spend time with Maggie. "Yes, I would."

Then her words sank in. Would you like to come along? "Uh...come along...with both of you?"

"I'm not sending her out alone. Of course with both of us. I am her mother, remember?"

Try as he might, he could never forget that, and it came hand-in-hand with a stark reminder that, as much as he desperately wanted to be Maggie's father, he was not. Silently, he weighed his options until Eames tugged on his arm. The thought of Halloween and trick-or-treating with Maggie filled his heart with yearning. Hot on its heels came the thought of Ricky seeing them, and that filled him with dread.

Eames watched the emotional battle play across his face. "Want to change your answer?"

"No, uh, yes..." He looked miserable. Her father's neighborhood was not far from hers, the one she shared with her insanely jealous husband. "I, uh, I have to say no. I can't..."

"If you're worried about Ricky, don't. He's on nights and he won't be around."

But Goren knew better. Eames had no idea how often her husband lurked in the shadows, waiting for her to take one misstep with him. Walking around the neighborhood with Maggie like he belonged with them would be just the kind of misstep Ricky was looking for. It was a chance he simply could not take. "I'm sorry, Eames. I really am. Good night."

She watched him leave, now used to the sight of him walking away from her when she wanted him to stay. He was so infuriating, so frustrating...and yet, God help her, she loved him so much. What was she supposed to do with that?

Goren found himself in Canarsie without consciously intending to go there. He'd fully intended to join Denise for dinner as planned, but he'd shut down after leaving Eames and his subconscious brought him to Canarsie Pier. As a kid, he always liked going down to watch the birds flying over Jamaica Bay and the planes taking off from JFK and to just not be home. First, when he was very young, he tagged along with Frank, when it really was about watching planes and animals or fishing or playing around at the water's edge. As he entered his teens, the pier was a favorite place to bring girls, and they'd get drunk or high. Then he'd take the girl someplace out of the way before he went home. It was definitely better than being home.

He parked his car and walked to the pier, which closed at dusk. It was well past dark, but he walked out onto the pier anyway. Who would bother him and even if someone did, his badge would appease anyone who dared question him. The breeze off the bay was cool and he found it refreshing. He sat down at the end of the pier, dangling his legs off the end over the water. When Maggie was older, he would have to bring her out to the pier to fish, like Frank brought him out there so many years ago. She would have fun fishing. Hell, she'd just have fun being with him, as she always did. It never mattered what they did. It only mattered that they were together. He didn't see her enough, and that pained him, so he made the most of the time he did have with her.

He felt himself begin to finally settle down, and he laid back on the pier. Listening to the sounds of the bay, he looked at the stars that were visible and he relaxed more. His life was complicated, but out here over the bay, things seemed simpler.

He opened his eyes at the sound of someone clearing his throat. Above him stood a young man, in his late-teens or early-twenties. "Mind if I sit?" the young man asked.

"Be my guest."

"Anybody bother you about the park being closed?"

"No."

The young man slipped off his backpack, dropped it to the dock with a thud and sat down. "Would it matter if someone did?"

"Not to me."

He laughed and opened his backpack. "Name's Matt," he introduced, holding out a beer.

Goren sat up slowly, accepted the beer and answered, "Bobby. Thanks."

Matt opened his beer. "What brings you out here after dark?"

"Just looking for a quiet place to think. You?"

Matt laughed. "Just looking for a quiet place to drink."

"Home too busy?"

"Kinda. My folks don't get along these days and I get tired of the fighting. When Dad gets home, it starts until one of them leaves or gets drunk enough to pass out."

Goren took a drink and nodded. "I was there. My dad walked out on us when I was 11."

"Did it get easier?"

"What?"

"Life."

Goren shifted his position and leaned back against a pillar. "My life was complicated back then. The best I can say is that it was...different once he was gone."

"The fighting stopped?" Matt sounded hopeful.

Goren shook his head. "No. It just changed."

The young man finished his beer and pulled another from his backpack. "So what makes it better?"

"I never found anything that made it better, not for many years."

"What changed?"

"I guess I did. I still look for equilibrium."

"Really? Think you'll ever find it?"

Goren shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe, someday."

"So what do you look for out here?"

Goren finished his beer. "I'm not sure. Maybe just a few minutes of peace."

Matt handed him another beer. Goren took a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and offered one to the young man. With a grin, Matt accepted a cigarette and pulled out a lighter. After lighting both cigarettes, Matt said, "Being out here is better than being at home."

Goren nodded. "I felt like that when I was a kid."

"But not any more?"

"Not so much, no. I live alone, so there's no one to fight with. But I come out here when I need to, uh, reconnect, with my past...to...to remember that my life is...different now. Being out here is...calming for me."

Matt nodded slowly. "Because the sea is restless, but it calms as it flows into the bay, unless it's driven by a storm. Is that your problem? You're driven by a storm?"

Goren nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess so. That's part of it, anyway."

Matt pulled his backpack closer and unzipped the front pocket. He pulled out a small tin case and opened it. Laying within the case were half a dozen joints. Matt removed one.

Goren finished his cigarette and took another drink of beer, watching as the young man lit the joint. Matt took a couple of hits, then he held it out to Goren. "Calm your storm?"

Goren finished off his beer and took the joint from the boy.

When he entered his apartment, Goren was surprised to see a figure on his couch. The figure sat up and turned to look at him. "I sure wish you wouldn't turn off your damn phone."

"Which one of them called you?"

"They both did, actually. I figured it would be smarter for me to come here and wait for you rather than to traipse all over the five boroughs looking for you. It only took me two years to figure that one out."

With a sigh, Goren dropped down beside Logan and ran his hand through his hair. Logan wasn't surprised by the odor of beer and cigarettes coming off his friend, but he was very surprised by the other odor he detected. As Goren pulled out his phone and turned it on, Logan asked, "What have you been doing, man?"

Goren shrugged. "Just hanging out in the old neighborhood."

"And falling back on old coping patterns?"

Goren was quiet for a moment. "I guess so."

He dialed his voicemail and listened to the messages. His face was tense as he dialed a number, but he relaxed when Eames was the one to answer the phone. "You called?"

"Where were you?" she demanded.

He arched his brows. "I..." He stopped, reminding himself that she had no business being irritated with him for living his life beyond the job. "Excuse me?"

She was worried about him, even though he was always on guard with her in a way he'd never been before. She sensed he still blamed her for ruining his relationship with the only other woman in his life who meant something to him.

Her voice sounded defeated. "Never mind. I just wanted to make sure you're okay. You were upset when you left earlier."

"I'm still upset, but I'll be fine. Good night, Eames."

He hung up and tipped his head back, closing his eyes for a moment. He yawned, then lifted the phone and opened his eyes, dialing the other number and waiting for her to answer. "Bobby?" she said, her voice full of hope.

"Yes, it's me." He paused as he remembered he'd had dinner plans with her. "I-I'm sorry I missed dinner. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"That's okay. I was worried about you."

"Why does everyone worry about me? Don't I have the right to spend time by myself?"

"Of course you do," she soothed. "And I worry because I care about you, because I love you. You don't break plans with me without calling."

She was right, and her words gripped his heart. The words that should have made him smile gave him grief instead. "I'm sorry, Denise."

"Don't be." She knew something major must be troubling him. "I understand," she assured him because she did.

A small smile touched the corners of his mouth. "You always do."

"Do you mind...if I come over?"

He considered her offer for a moment, seeing it as his chance to make up for leaving her hanging without a call. "Of course not. I...I'd like to see you."

Her voice relaxed. "Shall I bring something for dinner or did you already eat?"

"No, I haven't eaten. You can bring whatever you want."

"Good. I'll see you in about forty-five minutes."

"I'll be here."

He ended the call and tossed the phone on the coffee table. "You okay?" Logan asked.

"You can see me. You know I am."

"It's not your physical health that concerns me."

Goren tipped his head back and looked at Logan, then he grinned. More relaxed now, he felt much better. "I'm good, Mike. Better than I've been in quite awhile."

Logan smiled back. "Go take a shower, before Denise gets here and smells what's on your clothes. Maybe she'll think your eyes are bloodshot because you haven't been sleeping." He pulled out his phone when it beeped at him and read the message that waited for him. "I've gotta make a call, so I'll get lost. Turn your damn phone back on so I don't get sent on any more wild goose chases this weekend."

"Thanks, Mike."

Logan looked him over and nodded. "Any time, buddy. Call me tomorrow or Sunday. We'll find something to do."

Goren desperately needed a friend he could count on, no matter what dumbass things he did or what kind of trouble he found himself in. Logan was happy to be that friend. Four years ago, he didn't really know a lot about Goren and his life. Now he was an integral part of it. He had to admit, his life was more interesting—and a lot more fun. He closed the door behind him as Goren got up to shower before Denise arrived.