Logan trotted up the steps onto the stoop outside Eames' house and knocked. Her car was in the driveway, so he knew she was home. He knocked again. The door swung open and Eames glared at him. "What do you want, Logan?"

"That's a nice hello."

Her expression didn't change and he frowned. "Can we talk?" he asked.

"About what?"

"I don't know...the weather. I got nothing better to do with my time than drive all the way to Rockaway to discuss the weather with you."

Her expression softened just a little and she stepped back to let him into the house. "Have you been this pleasant at work?" he asked.

"Just say what you came to say and leave," she snapped.

"What did I do?" he asked, confused by her hostility.

"You came to talk about Goren, didn't you?"

"No! Well, maybe. Just a little."

"I don't particularly want to discuss him," she replied.

He frowned. "What did he do that was so horrible? Kill your cat?"

Her phone chose that moment to ring. Logan picked it up from the end table by the couch and looked at the display. "St. Luke's," he said. "Want to take it?"

"No. I don't."

He dropped the phone back on the table. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to talk to him."

"Then talk to me. Tell me what to say to him when he asks me why you won't talk to him."

"He knows."

"No, Alex, he doesn't. He's been trying to call you for four days and you won't answer. He can't figure out for the life of him why."

She sighed heavily. "I need a drink. You want one?"

"Sure."

She went into the kitchen and returned with two tumblers, each containing two fingers of whiskey. He took a small drink as she sat in a rocking chair in the corner and began to rock back and forth, looking at her drink. "What did he tell you about the last time I visited him?"

"He said you told him how the raid played out, how he got hurt. And you told him about Malicek."

"And then?"

He sat down in a chair across from her. "And then what? He said you left and now you won't talk to him."

"He didn't tell you what he did?"

"No. What did he do?"

She took a drink. "He withdrew from me, Mike. He wouldn't even acknowledge I was there, so I left."

Logan sat there silently, waiting for her to finish, but she didn't say anything more. "And?" he finally prodded.

"And what?"

"I'm waiting to hear what he did wrong."

"That was what he did wrong."

"So...you won't talk to him because he wouldn't talk to you? Very elementary school."

She frowned at him but let the comment slide for the moment. "It's more than that. I tried to get him to talk to me, but he shut down. I'm tired of playing these games with him. I'm sick and tired of being on the outside looking in."

"You think it's a picnic for him to be on the inside looking out?"

"Maybe he wouldn't be so alone if he'd just try to meet me halfway, if he'd talk to me and let me try to help him."

"What makes you think you can help him, or that he even wants you to try? You make it sound so easy, but it's not. He's a tough nut to crack. But what you did wasn't fair to him."

"What I did? What did I do?"

"You told him that his lover is in a coma after being tortured by a psychopath and then you punished him for being upset. How fair is that?"

"I didn't get mad because he was upset. I got mad because he withdrew from me! He chose her over me, again."

Logan was utterly confused. "Chose her? You told him to make a choice?"

"No...but that's what he did."

"By getting upset because she's dying?"

"Look, Logan, you've been out of town. You have no idea what's been going on."

"Okay, so fill me in."

"Malicek is abrasive and confrontational. She's done nothing but make things difficult ever since we started working with her. She didn't want to share information with us and she resented us for not backing out when we caught the New York part of her case. She and Goren have butted heads at every turn."

"She sounds...passionate."

"That's not the word I would use."

Logan could recognize a hot-button topic when he saw one and he knew that he was about to jump out of the frying pan into the fire. He jumped anyway. "So, you don't like her and you don't approve of the turn Bobby's relationship with her took. But since when does he need your approval to sleep with someone? What gives you the right to punish him for any choice he makes in his personal life?" he challenged. "He finally finds a woman he likes, one he can be with instead of the one night stands he's been using to meet his needs, and you resent him for it? Sounds to me like you're jealous."

Eames saw red. "Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"

"Because he didn't choose you," he answered, using her own words to define the reasoning behind what he saw as an extreme reaction.

The quiet accusation calmed her anger, though it should have fueled it. "I'm his partner," she said in quiet protest. "I'm not a choice that's available to him."

"Bullshit. If you both could get past that mental stumbling block, you'd see that you're..." He paused. "Well, whatever you are, you should be it together."

"Stop babbling, Logan."

"Start listening to reason, then." He took a drink and watched her rock in the chair, looking into her glass so she wouldn't have to look at him. "Can I tell you something about him, something you may not know?"

"I doubt you can tell me anything about him I don't know."

"I'm willing to try."

She waved her hand. "Go on. Give it your best shot."

He finished his drink and leaned forward in his seat. Watching her closely for her reaction, he said, "He's in love with you."

She snorted in disbelief. "He is not."

"He sure is. He just...hides it well. Too damn well, if you ask me."

"If you really think that, then you're the one who's off-center. I'm his partner. Nothing more and nothing less. Whatever you think you see in him, if you think it's love, you're misreading him."

"You're just as stubborn as he is. And I'm not misreading anything." He waved a hand and got up from the chair, walking into the kitchen to refill his drink. He returned to the living room and sat down. "But maybe he was right when he said there was no way a woman like you would ever be interested in a guy like him anyway."

"He...talked to you...about me?"

"He does that. A lot. But this confession took place a couple of years ago, and he was in a state...and drunk as hell. That's a pretty sure way to get him to talk, you know. And chances are, he'll be honest with you because when he's that wasted, all his defenses drop. He may not remember what he told you the next day, but he will tell you what you want to know—if you ask the right questions."

"You, maybe. Not me."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

She thought about what he said, and her curiosity got the better of her. "What did he tell you?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

She didn't answer immediately. Was it something she really wanted to know? Would it help or would it make things worse? She'd never know unless she found out. "Yes...and I want to know what you asked him."

"Why?"

"So I know...the right questions."

"Honey, the right questions from me may not be the right questions from you."

"Just tell me, Logan."

Staring at the glass in his hand, he let his mind travel back to Pete's Tavern, just a couple of days after Eames had been rescued from Jo Gage. By the time Logan joined him, Goren was already wasted. He wasn't very talkative at first, but Logan knew there was a lot on his mind. The trick was getting his friend to open up. It wasn't as difficult as he'd thought it would be.

He took a big drink and looked at Eames. "You know how...tortured he is. A lot of things weigh heavily on him, but he nearly lost it when you went missing. I spent a long night with him after you were rescued. I think you were still in the hospital, actually. He said something about you making him go home. He never made it home that night. By the time we left the bar, he could barely walk, so I took him to my place. We talked...about a lot of things, and he was...too drunk to censor himself. He told me things I don't think he's ever told anyone else. And that included his feelings about you."

Eames swallowed the lump that developed in her throat. "Me? Like what?"

"He loves you. Maybe you already know that. I wasn't surprised by that confession; I already knew he loved you. But up until that night, I had only suspected it was more than that. He's in love with you, too, and he has been for years. Believe me, he has it bad. That's why I know that this thing with Malicek isn't gonna last. He may be with her right now, but she's not the one he wants. Maybe they share a passion for each other, but it's driven by lust and maybe desperation, not love. That could be why he welcomes the pain. It's distracting. It gives him something to focus on so he doesn't have to think about how much he'd rather be with you. She is what he needs right now because she's safe, but she's not you and that will keep him from developing anything more with her."

"You've got to be joking."

Logan shook his head slowly. "Look, if that's what you need to tell yourself, go for it. I just know what he told me and what I've seen."

"He must have been too wasted to know what he was saying."

"He knew exactly what he was saying and he was drunk enough to say it."

"I have never seen him that drunk."

"Neither have I. Not before and not since—not even when his mom died."

"You've got to be wrong," she said. "He was lying or joking. Something. I would know if he felt that way..."

He laughed. "That's a good one. It could be plastered all over a billboard in Times Square and you wouldn't know it. It's not something you've ever wanted to see. And Bobby plays his emotions very close to his chest, keeps everything locked down tight so there's less chance he'll get hurt. You would know only if he wanted you to know, and he doesn't."

"Then why are you telling me? Doesn't that break some rule in the drinking buddy code?"

He laughed again, this time genuinely. "It's not like I'm a priest breaking the seal of the confessional. At this point, I think it's in his best interest for you to know how he feels and I'm not sure he'd tell you on his own."

"So he won't tell me but he'll tell you?"

"A guy'll tell his drinking buddy things he'd never tell his girl."

"I am not his girl."

Logan shrugged. "You could be. All you really have to do is show an interest, maybe push a little bit. If he resists, it won't be for long. You're the one he really wants, but he doesn't think you'll ever have him. Show him he's wrong."

Was it possible? Could Logan be right? "I'll think about it."

He drained his glass and set it on the coffee table. "You do that. Thanks for the drink. I'll see you tomorrow."

She waved her hand and he let himself out. She gave a lot of thought to what he'd said and made up her mind to answer the phone the next time he called, but he didn't call again.

Goren stood facing the bed, a small gym bag on the bed in front of him. He didn't have much to pack and he was just about done. As he pulled on his shirt and buttoned it, the door opened and Logan came into the room. "Hey, buddy," he said, not surprised that Goren didn't answer him. He'd been in a mood all week, not that Logan blamed him. "I brought someone with me."

Goren turned his head to look at his partner over his shoulder, but he carefully hid his reaction to seeing her and he remained silent. He returned his attention to carefully packing the gym bag with the few things Logan had brought for him over the past week...his razor, shaving cream, deodorant, toothbrush...

Eames didn't miss his reaction to her—the clenching of his jaw, the stiffness in his back. She looked him over, noting that he'd lost some weight. She also noticed a cane leaning against the bed beside him. "Hi, Bobby," she said softly.

"Eames," he replied without turning, his tone hard.

Logan glanced around for a knife with which he could cut the tension between the partners. "Hey, man, what's with the stick?" he asked, trying to distract them from each other for a minute.

"It's temporary. I'll get rid of it as soon as I can, trust me." He paused with a bottle of aftershave in his hand. "How is Malicek?" he asked, staring down at the bed, not wanting to see his partner's reaction to his question, one Logan hadn't been able to answer for him all week. Maybe Eames had heard something in the squad room...

Logan and Eames looked at each other. Eames braced herself and answered, "Her brother called me last night. She hasn't improved since they brought her in and she took a turn for the worse a couple of days ago. They had to put her on life support. Yesterday, they told him it was time to let her go. When I told him you were being released today, he decided to wait twenty-four hours, so you would have a chance to come by and say good-bye."

Goren looked down at the bed, then continued to place the last of his things in the bag. He didn't say a word, but Eames noticed the subtle changes in the way he held himself. She looked at Logan again. He shrugged.

Goren struggled to shuffle his emotions away someplace where they wouldn't show on his face. Eames had become enraged the last time he showed any reaction to Malicek's condition and he wasn't willing to tempt fate by another unfortunate display of emotion. He zipped his gym bag closed and grabbed the cane that rested against the bed. Finally, he turned away from the bed, but he didn't look at Eames or Logan. He limped toward the door, moving past them without saying a word. Eames said, "We can take you over to NYU."

"No, thanks," Goren answered.

"Are you sure?" Logan asked.

"I'm positive."

"Bobby...wait," Eames began, stopping when he spun suddenly toward them, his face dark with rage.

"What do you want from me, Eames?" he growled.

She didn't like the dark fear that gripped her heart. Had she sabotaged everything they had between them? "I just...I...I'm sorry I upset you. I was wrong."

Her apology surprised him and some of his anger faded. He stood between her and the door, looking at her silently. Finally, he said, "Wrong? Wrong about what?"

"I was wrong to get mad at you for being upset. You...You had every right to feel the way you did."

His first instinct was to lash out at her, to thank her for giving him permission to be upset. He was a fool for letting her see how he felt, and it wasn't a mistake he would make again. He swallowed his sarcasm, though, and instead replied, "We can talk about it later," even though he had no intention of doing so.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride?"

"I'm positive. I will...handle it."

"Like you handled your mother's death?" Logan asked.

The concern in his voice was the only thing that kept Logan from getting a black eye. Goren's gaze shifted between Logan and Eames. "I do the best I can," he finally muttered.

Not wanting to debate any further, Goren turned and left the room. Logan's mouth was set in a tight line. "Should we follow him?"

"No. I don't want to fuel that anger. Just let him go."

"You do know that his best isn't nearly good enough when he's dealing with something like this, right?"

"Oh, yes, I know. He doesn't have to love her to take her death hard, and he blames himself. We were too late to save her, and he feels responsible for that."

"Yeah, he does, and no one is gonna talk him out of it."

"No, even though we all bear some of the responsibility." She sighed deeply. "Come on, Mike. Let's go grab a bite to eat. I don't want to confront him again on an empty stomach."

"That sounds like a plan. My treat."

She smiled briefly. "Deal."