Disclaimer: I asked for them for Christmas, but Santa couldn't make any guarantees. Said something about the Law and Order faction of the elves being on strike. And as for U2, though I sadly do not own them, I think they are amazing and will soon hopefully own a ticket to their 2005 tour!

A/N: thanks so much for all the reviews! I can't begin to express how happy they make me. And the scene with the Alex and Bobby flashback wasn't actually from the show, unfortunately enough – though I'm flattered that you might think so! ) oh, and my kitty says hi. Hehe

Chapter Three: At a Place Called Vertigo

Wednesday Morning

(while Goren and Eames were questioning Mr. and Mrs. Turner…)

The grail, elderly man looked out on the crowd from his raised position in the pulpit, feeling the surge of power he had come to crave. These people had come to hear him speak; to them, his word was the word of God. Such power provided a feeling like no other: it was a feeling he had always desired, but always been denied. Until now. The last twenty years had literally been a blessing for him. No, he justified himself, it's not like I abuse my power. I only speak the law of God. I only carry out His will. It was more the fact the people listened to him that enthralled him: here, he had a voice.

"Good afternoon, my fellow disciples of God," his voice was magnified through the church. "The uh- the Gospel for today speaks about the importance of life. In this letter of Paul to the Apostles…" In the pews, Danny Marks and Paul Jamison had already tuned out from the Sunday homily at Amherst's Saint Mary's. Both were absorbed in their own thoughts. Danny had yet to be able to forgive herself for letting Mandy leave with that stranger: why hadn't she been more on-guard? When was she going to learn that Mandy was no longer the daughter of Paul Turner, co-partner of Marrison-Turner inc. on 38th street, but the daughter of Paul Turner, senatorial candidate. She tried to stop the thought, but it crept up anyway: maybe now I'll never get the chance to adjust. Danny attempted to inconspicuously brush a tear from her already red-rimmed eye, then focused her attention back on the priest. You can't break down now, she told herself. Not here. Not again.

Beside her, Paul, a sandy-haired, blue-eyed, gangly and not-normally religious man, was focusing intently on praying for the safe return of his girlfriend. Feeling uncomfortable kneeling – he was never in mass save for the annual Christmas celebration where they gave out free cookies at the end – he simply stared straight ahead, unblinking. Danny had to tap his arm twice before he realized she was vying for his attention.

"I don't trust this man," she whispered darkly, sitting up straighter to reach his ear and balancing herself with a hand on his shoulder – the warmth of which he was embarrassingly quick to notice. He glanced up at the balding priest, who was explaining the significance of Jesus saving Jonas from the whale. Passionately, Father Aglison orated – gesturing vehemently at some parts, and gently, warmly at others. To Paul the priest had seemed like a likeable enough man, but he knew that Mandy and the Father were always at ends with each other. To put it mildly, they had very different views of the Catholic religion.

"Something about him doesn't fit right," he consented to Danny. "I can't get the image of him and Mandy battling over abortion rights out of my head."

"I had thought he rather enjoyed the debate," Danny mused. "He seems like the type open to modern concepts and interpretations. But you're right – there is a certain…air…about him."

"These two passages strongly bring to mind the modern-day conflicts about the sanctity of life. The modern-day trends by which women throughout the globe are ignoring the blessings of conceiving, and are destroying their unborn children. I am, of course, talking about the institution of abortion." Father Aglison glanced up from the pulpit determinedly; Danny and Paul exchanged suspicious looks. "I think by now you all know my stance – the Church's stance – on the issue, so I won't go into that. What I do want to address, and what I am sure you are all waiting for, is our fellow peer Amanda Turner. If you're here today, I'm sure you are at least somewhat aware of the trouble between myself and Amanda. I will make no argument: there is no doubt that we had differing views. However, Amanda is still one of us: I would like you all to rise and join me in praying for the safe return of this daughter of God."

Feebly, Danny rose alongside Paul, finally losing control of her emotion. Paul reached over and grasped her hand, in a futile reassuring manner. As the priest's words continued, Mandy came into his mind, vividly projected as she laughed next to him on their way to a biology class. Her blonde hair blew back in the wind; her green eyes sparkled while she recounted to him her latest adventure with the 'evil girls from next door'. He closed his eyes – she was so close! – and soon Danny was not the only one with hot tears sliding down her cheeks.

God, he thought desperately, refusing to let go of Mandy's image, I don't ask you for much, you know I don't. But I'm – I'm asking for this. God…please God…let her come home. Danny collapsed against him; he held her tightly as she sobbed into his jacket, his own tears staining her sweater. In that instant, he realized all the sappy romance songs he and Mandy used to ridicule were true: it did feel like he was drowning.

Wednesday Afternoon

"I understand, sir…Yes, we're on it….Of course, not to worry. We'll be in touch." Deakins gently put the phone back into his cradle, as he did so catching sight of his two leading detectives walking in. He beckoned them to the office. Eames led the way, looking determined but tired. Behind her trailed Goren, looking like a lost puppy despite his bulking form. Smiling, Deakins prided himself yet again on the pairing of the two: it was by far one of his best decisions as Captain. They took seats across from his desk. "Find anything?"

"Nothing that makes sense," Goren replied, resting his forehead on his palm dejectedly.

"We were suspicious of both of her parents – but the fact that the body was in Vermont rules them out. They've been attending a series of important Republican conferences for the past week or so," Eames explained. Deakins nodded, absorbing the information.

"Well, let's not forget about the possibility of them hiring a hitman," he threw out.

"We're not ruling it out. But – they didn't seem to have any real motivation for the murder in the first place."

"When we spoke to Mr. Turner about Mandy's stance on abortion, he seemed to have put it behind him. Resignedly, sure – but not angrily," Goren supplemented. Deakins sighed. He hated to do this to them, but the pressure on him from the state was impossible to ignore. Slowly meeting each of their eyes, he began.

"So, you know what I'm going to have to ask you to do." It was the detectives turn to sigh.

"Unfortunately, yes," Alex stated dryly.

"It's only a five hour drive?" Deakins unconvincingly offered.

"We have to drive??" was Goren's only incredulous response.

"It would be more practical," Eames addressed her reply to Goren this time. "We don't want to be stuck without a car once we get up there. How professional would we look if we were traveling to all of our witnesses in taxis? Besides…" She trailed off as a mischievous grin spread across her face.

"Besides, what?" Goren asked reluctantly, not really wanted to know.

"If we were to take the train, where would we put the skis?"

Deakins laughed.

Thursday Morning

"And today's weather conditions report that-"

"And now it's time for our morning traffic update-"

"The Honda 2004, the car perfect for your family, and on sale starting tomorrow!"

"And I will stand up proudly and say, I too have smooth underarms." Bobby shuddered in disgust (what commercials had come to), before hastily flipping the channel again.

"Can't you find anything decent to listen to on that thing?" Alex asked impatiently. They sat, for once, not in the car provided for them by the police department, but on the comfortable leather of Alex's BMW SUV. Alex, as always, was at the wheel; Bobby glanced sideways at her.

"It's eight o'clock on a Friday morning, Eames. You give it a try."

"Fair point." She swerved, cursing at a driver who had out-of-nowhere slowed in front of her on the Merritt and provoking a laugh from Bobby. "Something funny over there?"

"You're cute when you're angry," Bobby responded lightheartedly, almost immediately regretting his words.

"I so did not just hear that."

"Er, of course not." Groaning, Bobby gave up and shut off the radio. "Have any good CDs?" Without speaking, she pointed to the backseat; a thick, daunting case of discs peered back at him. Avoiding the sticking-out ski-tips, Bobby reached for it. "I suppose that's a yes." Almost greedily, Bobby opened the black folder; he had thought he would have nothing to do for hours, yet here he was presented with the opportunity to further analyze the tastes of his partner. Alex revealed surprisingly little about her personal life to him; even though they had been paired for four years now, he wouldn't be able to give you her middle name. Sure, the little things he knew: what she liked to order on their occasional Friday night outings (angelhair primavera for Italian; Chicken gyro at the Greek place down the street from their building; and Chinese when they ordered in); what type of art she preferred; that she was a prom queen once, but one into racing cars; little tidbits that he had picked up from various cases. He didn't know the selflessness that had enabled her to carry someone else's baby only to give it up after nine months; he didn't know where she got the sheer determination that motivated her to return to the force even after her husband's death in the line of duty.

He knew Detective Eames, but he had yet to meet Alex.

The CDs began averagely: she had the typical collection of most people in their age group. The Beatles, The Eagles, Led Zeppelin, a few of Bruce Springsteen (including his less popular albums, Bobby noted), The Monkeys – he smiled at the less typical Darkness cover. Continuing, he realized

"You have the entire U2 CD collection in here," he stated, surprised, flipping through the coverlets. "All the way from Boy to How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. Impressive." Alex grinned again, the playful look returning to her countenance.

"I suppose you could say it was a childhood obsession that never really outgrew itself," she explained. "Their new one is excellent, by the way. Have you heard any of it?"

"I don't listen to the radio much," Bobby admitted, studying the red and black actual CD case of How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. On the cover were the four Irishmen (he knew that much, at least). He chuckled to himself; when he had pondered Alex's taste in men, this wasn't quite what he had had in mind. Bono…he was poetic, charming, musically talented…he was so not Bobby.

"Why don't you pop it in?" Why not? He reasoned. The opening chords of Vertigo filled the vehicle as it picked up speed along the highway, at last moving out of the traffic jam that had followed since their departure from the city. Staring out the window without really seeing, Bobby fell into a comatose of deep thought; though later, if you were to have asked him about his ponderings, he wouldn't have been able to tell you what they were. Several hundred trees and houses later, he abruptly turned to and addressed Alex.

"Do you still miss him?" Alex (caught in the middle of Crumbs From Your Table) was unperturbed by his sudden outburst; even without physically speaking, somehow communication was always open between the two of them. Nor did she question the privacy of the question, or the randomness by which it was put forth. She simply sighed, continuing to stare ahead at the road.

"Of course I do, Bobby."

"How did you do it – come back to the force?" There was no answer, only the slightest raising of the volume. Bobby considered it progress.

Thursday Afternoon

They arrived at Amherst College roughly three hours later. It was a striking institution, though not by size. The campus was neatly spread over a suburban area of Massachusetts (very much on the way to Killington, fortunately). Bobby especially appreciated the landscape architecture; the poinsettia bushes littering the grounds brought to mind his mother's old garden from his childhood. The New England atmosphere was strong; immediately upon entering the grounds, one had the feeling of entering a powerful, ancient land. Though it was certainly colder than the two detectives were used to, the crisp, cool air was a welcome substitute for the muggy New York City skies. It was only two o'clock when they stepped out of the car, groaning and stretching their legs, but Alex just knew that the night heavens here had to be breathtaking.

With a last quick brushing of her hair, Alex stepped around to the back of the car, meeting Bobby, who was straightening his tie. "You ready?" she asked rhetorically.

"I can't feel my legs and I am in dire need of the facilities, but other than that…" She chuckled, before pausing and facing him. He too halted, lowering his gaze to meet her eyes. Their forms were silhouetted in the noon sun, shadows elongated on the pavement.

"Bobby – I'm sure you will, but remember - these are just kids." He concurred, then tucked his ever-growing folder underneath one arm, and led the way up the hill to Mandy's dorm.

And just for the record…Vertigo lyrics

Lights go down

It's dark, the jungle is your head

Can't rule your heart

A feeling so much stronger than a thought

Your eyes are wide and though your soul

It can't be bought

Your mind can wander!

Hello, hello

I'm at a place called Vertigo

It's everything I wish I didn't know

Except you, give me something

I can feel, FEEL

The night is full of holes

There's bullets ripping sky

Of ink, with gold

They twinkle as the boys play

Rock, and roll

They know that they can't dance

At least, they know

I can't stand the beats

I'm asking for the check

Girl with crimson nails

Jesus 'round her neck

Swinging to the music

Swinging to the music

chorus

All of this….all of this can be yours

All of this….all of this can be yours

All of this….all of this can be yours

Just give me what I want

And no one gets hurt.

Hello, hello!

HOLA!

I'm at a place called VERTIGO!

Donde estas?

Lights go down, and all I know

Is that you give me something

I can feel your love teaching me how,

How to kneel!

Kneel!!

YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH Y EAH YEAH YEAH YEAH…..

By the way, I completely recommend this album. (How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, U2) It's amazing from start to finish…..inspirational, moving, depressing, thought-provoking….all at once. The song 'Sometimes You Can't Make it On Your Own' brings me to tears (it's about Bono's dad). Ok, and that's my U2 plugging for the day D

As always, reviews are HUGELY appreciated! HAVE A GREAT HOLIDAY SEASON, EVERYONE!!!