Author's Note - Thank you all very much for the reviews. You're the reason I've been working so hard on this thing, hard enough to get a few chapters ahead, so, anybody who wants an unscheduled release of the next chapter, just tell me one thing - There is a line in this chapter that was inspired directly by a line in one of my favorite songs. (Yes, I was feeling self-indulgent, but I don't think it hurt anything.) What is the line and the title of the song? As soon as I get the correct answer in a review, I'll post the next chapter, otherwise you'll have to wait until Monday.

Content Warning - nothing serious, just a little steamy, more than T but less than M, IMO. Just thought I should say something, so you can't blame me for any naughty images you might conjure as a result. I warned ya!

TriStateCopFan - Thank you! I couldn't wait to post what happens next ;-) LOL, I was checking the site every couple of hours. It is addicting! It's these reviews that's done it to me - I'm hooked on the love, LOL!

ShadowSage2 - I got mothership off the Television Without Pity: Law & Order messageboards - I actually owe them for quite a few phrases and descriptions. Tell me about it (the writers)! I liked TBJ, but I couldn't really get 'into' it, and it didn't help that it was opposite Numb3rs. Oh well. I didn't see Bobby as having major control issues - he usually lets Alex drive, after all. Now my mother, she's a control freak, and she can't stand to have anyone else drive but her (so that's where I got my opinion from). I think his feelings will become more clear in the next couple of chapters.

Susan G. - :-) I try to respond to everyone, when I have the time (and with the site down, I had nothing but time). And yes, I did get a bunch written, but I try to keep a few chapters as padding, in case my muse gets hit by a bus or something, LOL. Thank you for that wonderful compliment (although, if you're hearing voices ... calls security ... just kidding). Bobby, Bobby, Bobby ... sighs ... what am I going to do with you? I'm afraid he's going to have to keep 'not getting it' for a couple more chapters, at least.

netherfield - I love writing Bobby and Alex. And thanks for the advice - they are mature adults (I, however, am a twenty-something romantic - eep) so I'll try to keep the fluff to a minimum. Thanks for the vote of confidence; I'll try not to let you down.

SarahAnn91 - Wounded, noble, vulnerable and strong - just the adjectives I was going for (although I have the tendency to throw sexy in there too, on occasion, LOL).

brynnamorgan - Here is comes is right! Of course, you can't expect Alex to hold it together forever ...

Strawberry-ksc - Thank you. As they say, God is in the details (or something like that). My family actually teases me about writing too much detail - 'It takes you five pages to describe a doorknob.' is their favorite one. Bah, I say! I like detail.

08Starbaby08 - Thanks, the line, 'I don't want to be lonely anymore' was inspired by a song by Rob Thomas, ironically called Lonely No More. His music is the greatest, and helped capture the emotions for a lot of scenes in this fic. Loneliness is perhaps the harshest of all conditions, wearing away at the foundation of a man until they crumble (Wow, I just made that up, not bad, LOL). I saw the episode, and all I can say is; 'sigh'. I saw TBJ a few times, but it was on opposite Numb3rs, and my 6'3", math-genius brother won the fight for the remote most of the time (I'm 5'1" in sneakers). CI might not get the greatest ratings, but it's better than a lot of the crap on TV these days, and if they can work Logan in properly, it might bring people in who liked him on the original series.

justawriter - Thanks for sharing your opinion, I need all the help I can get! I'm trying to keep it angsty/shippy, without the fluffiness creeping in. LOL, I had to go back through a few chapters (ones not posted yet) and shear the fluff off. It was a freaking angora rabbit for a few minutes, then I came to my senses and now it's some kind of gerbil or hamster, maybe a pika or lemming - anyway, it's shippy, but without too much fluff, I hope.

Carissa - I can sleep again, too! Glad you liked it, thanks for reviewing.

The X-Pig - Well, thank you, I try. I'd like to say that the metaphor of the cell and their feelings was a rather ingenious insight on my part, but ... I totally missed it until you just pointed it out, LOL. A wonderful example of why I would rather be lucky than good. Yes, Bobby does quite a bit of giving in (and not giving in) in the next couple of chapters. 'That bastard' is right. P

Lina-Baggins - Thank you! It's one of the great parts of writing when you know that your readers understand the point you were trying to make. You summed up everything I was trying to say in that chapter so perfectly. It makes me feel like I've done my job right. August! Now I'll spend the whole summer vacation wishing it was fall, LOL.

KendraC - Bobby has his reasons (which shall become a little clearer - to us and Alex - in this and the next chapter). Thanks and enjoy!

Wearing the mask of perfect indifference, Alex stripped off her top and stuffed it through the bars next to her jacket. Her hands were shaking as she undid her slacks and let them slide to the floor, but it was from anger as much as nerves. Why did Bobby have to be so ... Bobby? Why couldn't he be like any other man and just enjoy it? Okay, maybe she wasn't being fair to the greater male population, but she couldn't imagine many putting up such a fuss about it. Why was he making such a big deal out of such a little thing. It was sex, not marriage, she wasn't asking for a commitment, or even an 'I'll call you later'. This didn't mean anything.

God, did she wish she felt that way. Maybe this wouldn't hurt so much. She glanced up to find him staring into the distance, lost in thought. There was something ... something aching about him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, stepping out of her pants and towards him. What she thought she was going to do, how she was going to comfort him, she didn't have a clue. How do you comfort someone if you don't know why they are hurting?

"I was seven when I realized there was no Santa Claus, no Tooth Fairy, no Easter Bunny," he said quietly. "I don't make wishes on falling stars. There's no ... point. So why did I allow myself to believe, to wonder, to - to hope ... ?" He fell silent, lost in his thoughts.

She was used to his tangents, used to being left behind by his brilliant, if somewhat random reasoning, and she waited, hoping, like she always did, that this wouldn't be the one time where she couldn't catch up. He glanced at her and she was stunned by the depth of the emotion in his eyes: the pain, the sorrow, the desire, the anger.

"Bobby," she whispered, "what - ?" He blinked and tilted his head to one side, bird-like, his eyes downcast, unreadable.

"When we kissed, in the break room - it was because of the lust spell, right? It wasn't your ... choice. It was magick." It was magic, all right, the way his hands moved to her face, taking control of her, so strong, yet gentle. It had felt nothing like the lust that the incubus brought on, it had felt so ... real. "It had to be," Bobby said suddenly, "you'd never kiss me otherwise. I - I - I would never kiss you, for that matter, it's un ... professional." Alex just stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out just which planet he was from.

"Of course it was the spell," she said after a moment, taking her time and making sure she didn't sound as vengeful and petty as she was feeling. It was hard, what with him sending these mixed signals at her. She was having enough trouble sorting out her own feelings on this whole disaster, and here he was, throwing curve balls at her. One minute, it felt like she was the only person in the world that mattered, and the next, it was like he could hardly stand to be near her. And they said women were unpredictable.

She took a deep breath. "So, how do you want to do this?" she asked, standing there in her underwear. "Against the wall again? On the floor? The bed? I'm sure you've got some creative ideas. Just one thing - I want your clothes off too this time. Your zipper left this raw spot on my thigh." She rotated her leg outward to show him the red mark. Okay, so she was being vicious and snarky. He deserved it.

He didn't speak, his eyes taking in her leg, then slowly moving up her body, that look of total concentration on his face, as if she were the only thing in the entire world. If he'd had his leather binder, she was sure he'd be taking notes. He reached her face, and then turned away.

"The bed is fine," he said, starting to unbutton his shirt, "but I have to be on top."

"You do realize that you're bigger than me, right?" He looked at her over his shoulder, eyes hooded, gaze neutral. "Just checking. I thought you didn't want to be in control."

"I don't."

"Then why - ?"

"I have my reasons. Or we could just forget this." Alex cocked her head to the side and stared at his broad back in bemused irritation. Yes, that's what it was, because she absolutely would not admit that he was driving her freaking nuts!

"Whatever you want is just fine," she told him sweetly. "Just try not to squash me." He didn't reply, just shrugged out of his shirt and dropped it on the floor. The bandage on his back had bled through a little, but not enough to worry about. She could change the dressing later ... after. She'd brought extra gauze, just in case. She started to look away as his jeans came down, but her attention was grabbed by the sudden appearance of his boxers. On a dappled blue background, from midnight to sky, his under-shorts were positively swimming with sharks - hammerheads, threshers, tigers and great whites were schooled on Robert Goren's boxers. Yellow smiley faces or those ridiculous red chili peppers wouldn't have been as surprising.

"You don't like sharks?" he asked, catching her staring. She shrugged.

"Not particularly - not many people do."

"I do," he said in that quick, almost apologetic manner he had. "They're simple, straightforward, no hidden agendas, no ... subversive motives. They do what they do and that's it."

"What they do, is kill," she said, not quite believing they were having this discussion. First John Tagman, now Jaws? Couldn't he choose to champion someone who deserved it?

"They kill to survive, Eames - not for greed, or jealousy, or anger, but to - to live."

"So it's okay to do otherwise reprehensible things as long as it's a matter of survival. Does that include having sex?" He laughed, turning to her with that sleepy smile that never made it to his eyes. When his eyes smiled, you knew you did something right. When they didn't, you knew you were in trouble.

"You're more dangerous than most people think, you know that? You let me do my little song and dance, but you're quite capable on your own." Alex shook her head.

"No, Bobby, I can't do what you do; I can't get into their heads, I can't see what you see ..."

"You'd find another way; you're smart, hardworking, dedicated ... Why - why do you put up with me?"

"That's a damn good question," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now, who do I have to interrogate around here to get you to screw me?" He winced, ever so slightly, at her vulgarity and the truth hit her like a tweaker with a crowbar. He didn't want to 'screw' her, he wanted it to mean more. Or did she just want him to want it to be more? She cast her eyes down and rubbed at her temple. Another of those freaking curve balls. Why couldn't anything be easy, just once?

"Finish getting undressed," he said quietly, turning his back like a gentleman while she slipped out of her underwear. Feeling very exposed and vulnerable, she made her way over to the cot and lay down, the coarse gray blanket scratching her sensitive bare skin. She kept her eyes on the ceiling, that horrible pock-mark tiled ceiling, while he removed his boxers and positioned himself over her, his hands planted on either side of her shoulders, supporting his weight. Parting her legs, she allowed him to kneel between them and then held her breath, waiting for him to touch her, to stir up the incubus just enough to facilitate their joining. He was still a big guy, after all, and she was nowhere near ready for him.

"Hey - ow, hold on!" She jumped and pushed him off, drawing up her knees and curling her legs to the side. "Whatever happened to foreplay? I didn't even get a 'Ready or not, here I come'. No pun intended."

"I - You want me to ..." Of course she did. She slowly shook her head.

"At this point, it's about comfort, not want. You're a big guy, Bobby, in case you hadn't noticed, and it's a - a tight fit, even when I'm ready." He lowered his eyes.

"I didn't - I just thought you'd want to get this over with."

"That was cold," she said quietly. "You know I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Now, could you just ... pretend like you want to do this, just once, just this last time."

"You want me to pretend to love you?" He stared at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "I - I don't think I can ... do that." She was silent for a moment.

"Okay then. Never mind. Wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable." She lay back on the bunk. "Go ahead then, plow away."

"Oh, come on, Eames, don't - "

"Eames. You won't even call me Alex. Because it's not professional. I hate to break it to you, but we lost professional a long time ago." She jumped as he suddenly planted his hands on either side of her again, his face just inches from hers. The look in his eyes made the breath catch in her throat. It was raw, predatory, scared.

"You don't understand," he said, his voice raspy with emotion.

"Make me understand - talk to me."

"I can't - I can't pretend to love you ... I ..." He hung his head and started to leave, but Alex'd had enough - it was time to take matters into her own hands. She placed her palms flat against his chest, completing the circuit, and arched her back as the power coursed through her, a sudden jolt that left her weakened, but in control. He was frozen, on his hands and knees above her, his eyes fixed on her face the way a starving man stares at the leftovers on someone else's plate; wanting so bad it hurts, but not yet willing to step over that line, that last boundary that will leave them changed forever. She ran her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, gently kneading the tight muscles.

He just looked at her for a second, no change in that slight frown, then, slowly, his eyes closed and his frown relaxed into a sad, almost peaceful expression. He gave in.

His lips found her jaw line, tracing the curve of her face, tasting the soft skin beneath her ear, making their way down to her collarbone. He changed position, laying beside her on his hip, braced on one elbow as his free hand explored her body, drawing a line of fire on her skin from her knee, up the back of her thigh and over her ribs, hesitating just below her breast. Taking his hand in hers, she guided him upward, her nipple hardening against the warmth of his palm. With his lips still wreaking sensuous havoc on her throat, he began to caress her soft skin, his huge hand almost covering her completely.

Oh, God, he was good. She felt her eyes start to drift closed as he began to kiss his way back up her neck, and she forced them open. She would not desert him, not this time. This was their moment - as close to the real thing as they would ever get - and she would not cloud a second of it with useless fantasies. His lips caressed the base of her jaw and she turned her head, trying to capture his mouth with her own, but he pulled back. Their eyes met.

"You don't have to stay," he said, his voice rumbling through her where their bodies touched. "You can close your eyes. I understand. I just wish ... I could go - go with you." She stared up at him for a moment, the seed of an idea beginning to sprout in her brain. She took his stubbly face in both hands and kissed him, swiftly and soundly on the lips, then extricated herself from his surprised arms.

The air was cool on her naked skin as she walked over to the cell bars, reached through and grabbed her coat, fishing the large gauze pads out of her pocket. Bobby watched her with one eyebrow raised as she made her way over to the sink.

"The air is heavy, humid, making us sticky with sweat," she said. "We've been walking for hours through the heat and insects, and now, in the distance, we can hear water running." She turned on the cold water faucet, the old pipes knocking and squealing, completely ruining the mood. She glanced over at Bobby. A small smile played across his face.

"It's just a whisper at first," he said, sitting up on the edge of the bed, "but it grows louder, into a soft rumble, then the jungle parts ..."

"The falls cascade down the cliff face, a white, frothy curtain. We shed our clothes and slip into the water." She held the gauze under the faucet until it was soaking wet. Bracing herself, she raised the gauze above her head and let the water drip onto her face, her throat, her breasts. Goosebumps rose all along her body, but it was an exhilarating feeling. As she dipped the gauze back under the water, she chanced a look at her partner. His shoulders rose and fell with each ragged breath and he'd moved forward on the cot, perching himself on the very edge. She had his undivided attention.

Walking toward him, she held the wet gauze to her chest, feeling the drips of water slip through her fingers and roll between her breasts, down her stomach. She stopped beside him, her empty hand reaching out to play with the tiny curls at the base of his neck. He looked up at her, his eyes dark, hungry, and licked dry lips. She found herself mesmerized by that tongue again.

"What happens next?" he asked hoarsely. She started to say, 'Use your imagination', but he wasn't being coy, he was asking permission, asking what he was allowed to do.

"Next," she answered softly, "you lick the drops of water from my skin." She allowed a trickle to escape her cupped hand, leaving a beaded trail down the center of her body. Holding her breath, she watched him lean toward her, her knees threatening to go weak even before his tongue darted out to capture the first glistening droplet clinging to the edge of her belly button. His massive hands gripped her waist as he kissed and licked his way up her stomach, catching the drops of water as they rolled between her breasts. Smiling to herself, Alex slid the gauze pads to one side, letting the water slide down her breast. A single sparkling drop clung to her nipple. Her breath caught in her throat as Bobby licked it away.

Taking the gauze away from her chest, she held it above his head as he turned his face upward, eyes closed as the cool water splashed across his forehead and cheek. Moving her hand over his shoulder, she gave a little squeeze. He gasped as the water rolled down his back and chest. She repeated the action on the other side, then drew the wet gauze up the side of his neck, under his chin, and down the center of his throat. They were both breathing hard.

"Well," she said, tossing the gauze over into the sink, "I think we're wet enough now." Gently, she took his face in her hands, just as he had in the break room, and teased his lips with feather-light tastes of her own. In the back of her mind, an annoying little voice was reminding her that this was Robert Goren, her partner, and that she should definitely not be kissing him, but she just told that voice to shut the hell up. It might be weak, but God help them, they needed this.

Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue.