Eames waited nervously for the elevator to descend to the parking garage level. It had been one of the longest seventy minutes of her life. Seventy minutes from the conversation that began: They need you to come in to handle an interrogation, Eames.

"What interrogation, Ethan?"

They nailed Rico Gambisi.

Her heart stopped. If they got Gambisi, why wasn't Bobby doing the interrogation? "What about Bobby?"

They didn't say, Alex. All they said was to get you down here to deal with Gambisi. Sorry.

She woke Teddy with a gentle kiss to let him know she'd been called in and set out on a nervous ride in to the squad room. Now she stepped onto the elevator and paced, gaining some understanding into her partner's restless energy. Was he eternally nervous like this? No...with him it was simply unspent energy.

The door slid open and she hurried toward her desk, stopping several paces into the room. Relief flooded through her when she saw the white styrofoam cup sitting on a piece of paper in the middle of her desk. Her knees went weak and she had to wait for a moment before continuing to the desk. She lifted the cup, inhaling the aroma of sweet coffee, just the way she liked it. She picked up the paper, recognizing her partner's scrawl before she read a single word. Sorry to get you called in so late. This can't wait. I tried to call Barb but she didn't answer. Would you try again? I'll be back shortly and fill you in. love, Bobby

She smiled and picked up the phone.

The hot water cascaded over his body and he stood under the water jets for a long time before reaching for the soap. When he'd removed his vest and his shirt, he was surprised to find a large patch of extensive bruising forming over the left side of his abdomen. Well, hell...

Examining his vest, he found the spot where the bullet had hit. Thank God for kevlar. Once in the shower, under the heat from the water, blood was drawn to the surface of his skin, making the bruising much more noticeable by the time he toweled off. The throbbing in his head, worsened by fatigue and hunger, had not improved, and he'd found a three-inch long gash in his scalp that told him he had indeed been grazed by a bullet. It had been close...very close. The thought of it churned his stomach and he chased it away. He'd been very lucky.

The last thing he did before leaving the warmth of the hot shower was shave. Back at his locker he put on the aftershave he kept there. He dressed in clean jeans and a dark NYPD sweatshirt, white socks and sneakers. He almost wished he kept a suit here, but dismissed the thought. There was no reason for him to have a suit gather dust in his locker on the odd chance he might need it. He shoved his dirty clothes into a cloth gym bag, except for his green army jacket, hanging carefully in the open locker with an exhausted kitten sleeping in the pocket. He gently pulled the jacket on, closed and secured the locker and grabbed his bag, heading for the elevator.

The coffee cup was gone and he smiled. Eames was here. Dropping the gym bag next to his desk, he slipped off his jacket, hung it on the back of his chair and headed for the observation room adjacent to Interrogation Four, where Rico Gambisi waited for them.

Eames and Deakins looked up when he strolled into the room. Not caring about decorum at four o'clock in the morning, Eames stepped into him and hugged him firmly. He returned her hug. She looked up at him, clean and groomed, and she saw the deep fatigue in his eyes. "How are you?"

"Better now. Did you talk to Barb?"

She shook her head. "I didn't get an answer either."

"Are you sure she's all right? Have you seen her?"

"Calm down. Teddy and I had dinner with her last night. She looked tired, but she'd worked all day. She was fine, I promise."

Deakins clapped him on the shoulder. "Get done with this and go home, Bobby. You did a great job."

"The evidence..."

Eames shrugged. "You know what we have. It is what it is."

"And that's not much," came a deep, calm voice from the doorway. "It's good to see you back, detective."

"Thank you, counsellor."

"Do I need to tell you how much of this case is riding on what happens in that room?"

"No, sir."

"Then get in there before Carlo finds out we grabbed his son. Word is on the way as we speak, I can guarantee."

Goren nodded at his partner and they headed out of the room to talk to Rico.

Gambisi looked up as the door opened. He studied the two detectives, surprised but pleased to discover one was a woman. And despite his well-groomed appearance, her partner was a study in fatigue. This was going to be easy. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, a haughty grin on his face. "How can I help you, detectives?"

Eames took the initiative while her partner hung back, leaning against the wall beside the glass, watching. "What were you doing out on the docks tonight, Rico?"

"My driver got lost."

"So you thought you'd get out of the car and play with the natives?"

"Something like that. I wasn't doing anything wrong."

"You were arrested during a drug bust."

"I have no drugs in my possession nor will you find any in my vehicle. I don't use drugs."

"But you sell them."

He shrugged, neither admitting nor denying it. "I am a business man. I buy and sell many things."

"Let me see if I have this straight. You got bored in the middle of the night, so you left your cozy digs in Atlantic City and drove several hours on a cold, rainy night to a series of questionable dockyards in New York City just for the hell of it."

"Something like that. It was a friendly meeting until your cops came out shooting."

"'Came out shooting'?"

"You don't think one of my people fired the first shot, do you?"

Eames feigned confusion. "How did we get from being lost and running into strangers to them being 'your people'?"

She saw him falter for half a second. "It doesn't matter. You have nothing on me. So I was there? So what?"

From the corner, Goren said quietly, "Lonnie Burquardt."

Caught entirely off guard, Rico's carefully constructed facade crumbled and he glared at Goren. Everyone watching could tell he was shaken by the unexpected mention of his dead friend's name, and they watched him struggle to regain his composure. "I have not seen Lonnie lately."

"Hmmm. That's odd. We were told you and Lonnie were tight. You grew up together, best friends. You took him along as you climbed your dad's corporate ladder. One of 'your people' said Lonnie has his own office and apartment suite at your casino."

"What did Lonnie do? Why are you investigating him?"

Goren knew his questions were not sincere, but Rico had recovered his balance and gave every appearance of being sincere. "Lonnie got himself into some trouble, and he's going to take you down with him."

"What? Take me down...? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Just what I said. He told us..."

Rico jumped to his feet as panic set in. "No! He...I...I saw him go into the river."

"And we saw him come out of the river. Poor form, Rico, not making sure you finish the job."

"What? He survived...?"

Full blown panic hit him hard. Lonnie could get him the death penalty for some of the things he'd done. Goren shrugged, as calm as Eames had ever seen him. Part of it was a good act, and part of it was the fatigue that penetrated every muscle of his body. "He's got a nice bed over at..."

Rico let out an agonized yell. "He can't be alive. I put those bullets in him myself!"

Goren couldn't suppress a smile of satisfaction. "Eames," he said softly as Rico ranted and tiraded on the other side of the room. He nodded at the door, indicating she should leave. Rico was a cornered tiger, unpredictable and dangerous. Eames trusted her partner and his judgment, but she still hesitated. Bobby was not in top form, physically. But she met his eyes and saw his resolve and a silent plea to do as he asked. She slipped out of the room and joined Deakins and Carver to watch as Goren stepped away from the wall, moving in for the kill.

Rico turned on the big cop, not thinking past the panic that still gripped him. "I saw him go into the river with two bullets in him! I know I didn't miss! How did he survive?"

"He didn't."

Rico stopped in his tracks, stunned and confused. "What? But you said he told you..."

Goren nodded. "I know what I said."

"How could he talk to you if he's dead?"

"I never said he talked to us. I said he told us things. The dead speak, Rico, if you have a mind to listen to them."

Rico stared at him as the realization of what had just occurred sank in. He had just confessed to killing his best friend, and in a police station no less. His father was going to kill him. He felt a white-hot rage well up from deep inside and he let out a howl of fury, launching himself over the table at Goren. He hit the detective squarely with all his weight as the door to the hallway slammed open. The two men hit the mirror full-force, shattering it and raining shards of razor-sharp glass over them and across the floors of both rooms. Two burly detectives and two uniformed officers grabbed Rico and yanked him away from Goren, who straightened away from the now-empty hole in the wall and said, "You're under arrest, Rico, for the murder of Lonnie Burquardt. Daddy's gonna be pissed."

Rico screamed at him, still enraged, as they dragged him away. Wearily, Goren walked to the table, steps faltering as he got there. He leaned on his arms, hung his head and closed his eyes against the pain that throbbed from temple to temple and across the back of his head. He felt a gentle touch that dusted off his clothes and his hair before a cool hand came to rest against the side of his face. Softly, he said, "I want to go home, Eames."

"Look at me."

He forced his eyes open and looked into a worried face. "I'm exhausted and I just want to go home."

Her fingers grazed over the skin above his ear and she turned them over to show him the blood that she'd wiped from his head. "Bobby..."

He frowned as he studied her hand. Gently, he took her fingers, turning her hand over so he could look at the ring she now wore. His eyes flicked from her hand to her face, his question silent in his eyes. But before she could say anything, Deakins yelled, "Goren! Get your ass over here! Now!"

He broke the gaze and headed from the ruined room, concerned about the urgency in the captain's voice. As he turned the corner into the hall, he heard a soft, familiar sound and looked down to see a flash of gray that attached itself to the leg of his jeans and climbed. Reaching down, he closed his hand over her when she got to his thigh and let her settle in the crook of his arm. "Sorry, Captain. I haven't been home yet."

"What is that cat doing with you?"

"I, um, I found her in an alley and, well, we kind of got attached, so I'm taking her home."

Eames reached out and ran two fingers over the tiny gray head. Storm pressed her head into the caress and purred. "She's adorable."

"Tell that to the cop she attacked."

Eames looked at him, eyebrows raised. "She what?"

"She didn't want him touching me, so she tried to rip his hand open."

"Feisty."

"Very. Don't let her size fool you."

"You do have a thing for feisty women."

Goren raised his eyebrows at her and she laughed. Deakins sighed. "Go home. Both of you. Are you sure you're all right, Bobby?" He leaned over and pointed toward the side of his head. "You have some blood running..."

"I know. I'm all right."

"Get it looked at. Call me in a couple of days. I'll let you know if we need anything in the meantime. Eames, Carver is going to want your paperwork tomorrow. You can take Goren's paperwork to him tomorrow night."

Goren snorted. "Gee, thanks, captain."

"Go get some sleep, before you collapse."

The captain walked off and the two detectives headed toward their desks. Goren grabbed his jacket and gym bag and started toward the elevators, knowing Eames would be right behind him. Once in the elevator, he looked back at her and nodded toward her hand. "The ring?"

"Teddy proposed."

A smile played at the corners of his mouth. "You accepted?"

"I'm wearing the ring."

His face relaxed into a smile. "Congratulations. I, uh, I'd be more enthusiastic if I had the energy. You're happy?"

"Very."

"Good. That's very good. I'm happy for you, Alex. For both of you."

"Thank you, Bobby."

She wanted to ask him about Barb, but right now, having been away for nearly three weeks, he would be uncertain until he saw her. She knew he was worried that he couldn't get in touch with her. That concerned her as well. She kept making excuses—it was the middle of the night, she had worked all day, she turned down her ringer, she didn't hear the phone--but Eames was worried, too, and she could only imagine how he was feeling. She unlocked the car and watched him get in. He was getting increasingly unsteady and that concerned her as well. Sliding behind the wheel, she looked over as he settled Storm in his lap. She curled up into a ball and closed her eyes. "How long have you had her?" Eames asked as she started the car and backed out of the spot.

"Uh, I don't know for sure. A week, week and a half."

"And what did you do to convince her to stay with you?"

"Nothing. She just stayed. She first approached me for food. The way to this cat's heart is through her stomach."

"She's so tiny, especially measured against you."

Goren just smiled and leaned his head back. He dozed lightly until the car pulled up in front of the house. "Bobby? You're home."

He took a deep breath as he roused himself and his eyes scanned nearby cars. The sun was beginning to rise and the streetlights were winking out. He found Barb's car with no problem. "Uh, thanks for the ride, Eames."

"Do you have your keys?"

"No, but Barb has a key hidden for me. I can get in."

"Call me later."

He nodded. He slid out of the car after tucking Storm back into the crook of his arm, grabbed his things and looked at his partner. "Thanks, and I really am happy for you."

"Thank you, Bobby. Sleep well."

She waited until he was in the house before driving off.