Four days later, Eames was in the office early, earlier than Bobby. She'd called him and left a message to say that she'd found the papers he'd been looking for, then carefully locked the original papers, including the sketch, in one of the drawers of his desk, and shredded the copies and Hoffman's translation. Sergeant Alvarez had been amused by Hoffman's request, and found two young rookies who were willing to call into bakeries when returning from patrol and research the availability of raspberry tarts. (They'd agreed to put it on expenses as "Translation Costs", although Eames personally would have liked to see the number-crunchers' faces on seeing "Raspberry Tart Expenses" on a claim sheet.)

She looked up, and smiled to see her partner's familiar shape looming over her desk. They exchanged pleasantries, and he dropped off a Starbucks cup and pastry bag on her desk, then sat down behind his own and began rearranging papers, fiddling with pens and generally settling himself back in. She opened the bag and found her favourite croissant, still warm, and the coffee cup scented promisingly of that new blend they'd started using that she especially liked, two shots and made with half-and-half milk, exactly how she liked it. She looked up and smiled, receiving a full-on charming Goren smile in reply. Oh, SOMEONE's in a very good mood.

"Bobby? I think I found those papers you were looking for - they're in the top drawer." She watched surreptitiously as he retrieved them from the drawer, and inwardly smirked to see the look of relief on his face, followed, she noticed, by a faint smug grin of recollection. Ah well, she was happy for him, if privately amused that even the great Detective Goren could occasionally be distracted by a female. She wondered if the young translator would be returning to New York in future, and made a mental note to keep an eye on future progress with the new Interpol division. He was doing the staring-off-into-the-distance thing again, although she couldn't help noticing that this time it was more wistful than distracted… then, as she watched, he shook his head and returned his attention firmly to the casefiles in front of him. Looked like she had her partner back firing on all cylinders again.

"So, Eames, this new case… homicide during a burglary?"

"Looks like, but I'm not so sure. I think only someone who knew the house well would be able to break in."

"Yeah, I think we need to speak to the family again, did you see the security systems they had there? Someone was paranoid; everything from infra-red sensors to broken glass on the windows."

"Yeah… they had the whole nine inches."

Bobby dropped the coffee cup he was holding all over the desk; luckily there was only about an inch left in the bottom. "I'm sorry? What did you say?"

"I said, the whole nine yards… geez, Bobby. Relax!"

FINIS

Author's Notes: I wanted to see if I could write a 'Sienna & Bobby' fic in which neither of them makes an appearance in person. I didn't quite manage that, but overall I was happy with the result. Plus, I thought it was time Alex Eames put in an appearance…

If you feel like a soundtrack, I was listening to 'Short Skirt, Long Jacket' for most of this fic, especially during Chapter Four (song by Cake, album Comfort Eagle).

Author's Notes, part the second: In reply to a question by email... Sienna's "estimate" does not reflect any special knowledge on my part about either Goren or VDO (sadly for me). And yes, nine inches is pretty damn big... hence Goren's comment that she was exaggerating a little and her reply that she wasn't exactly thinking straight at the time.
She was originally going to say "eight inches", which would be slightly above what I'm reliably informed is the average size for most guys (5-7 inches; don't ask how I know this... being a fic writer leads you to do all kinds of weird research). Then, whilst I was thinking about how to end the fic, I overheard someone using the phrase "the whole nine yards" and thought, yup, there's my ending!