Chapter 8

Shellster- I am continuing with Old Murder, but it's a slow going process: it's not nearly as planned out as this one (I've got this one completely finished but for the details) and it's a bit more complicated. I am also moving this weekend, so I haven't had much time to really sit down and think it out- let alone write it out…That being said, hopefully, I'll have an update soon…

Also, Eames may be missing from the NBC website, but she's still on the Imdb website and they've already updated it to add Logan and his new partner, whose name escapes me…I'm assuming she'll be back, but I'll be seriously depressed if she isn't…Where would Goren be without her!

……………………………………………………………………………………………1

Later that day, after the exciting scene in the middle of MCS, Carver walked up to Alex and Bobby, who were both huddled around Alex's computer. "When exactly are you planning to execute the search warrant?"

Bobby gave a "huh?" grunt and looked up. "Oh- probably Saturday-tomorrow. Time of day depends on whether or not Peter crashes our party."

"Well, hurry up and throw your party, the judge who issued that warrant is not happy."

"Tomorrow; at noon…" Deciding that this answer would have to do, and not pressing the subject any farther, Carver left.

Alex pulled up the puppylover e-mail and saw a reply from Sam. "Got one," she said.

Bobby turned his attentions from something just behind her neck to the computer screen and read aloud:

Dearest Lexy, I shall call you on Saturday morning to confirm the donation amount and to confirm your description. God Bless you, Father Samuel Engal

"Waiting is the hardest part," said Alex sarcastically. There was a hint of truth in it- she just wanted to get this over with. On the other part, it was incredibly fun to have Bobby constantly hitting on her and acting like an over protective partner. She felt special and incredibly powerful yesterday during the argument with Peter. She looked at Bobby.

"He's definitely not going to show up with us…"

"The question is: Is he gonna try to grab you, and how is he gonna do it?" Alex smiled nervously. "Don't worry, I've got your back," he said bumping into her shoulder.

"Oh, that's reassuring," she said, teasing him. "Come on, I've got to go find a red tank top from the spare clothes- the only one I own is my favorite shirt, as you very well knew when you typed that letter, and I'm not wearing that in a sting, sorry," she smiled at him. SOL.

"Damn," said Bobby snapping his fingers before he began to laugh. Alex got out of her chair shaking her head and headed towards the 'undercover closet'- the unofficial, non-christened, in other words: name. Bobby jumped up from his seat and chased after her. "Oh come on, you know there's nothing that small in that horrible pile of laundry."

"Well, you should have thought about that before you said I'd be wearing a red tank top," she said smartly.

"I did," he said slyly.

"Oh really?" she said as she entered the closet.

She began perusing through the clothes on the rack, obviously unimpressed by the paisley, stripes, and various assortments of mini skirts and halter tops, which proved just how much undercover time went into busting Johns…

"These skirts definitely break the number one rule of fashion," she said darkly.

"What's that?"

"Never wear anything wider than it is tall," she said, pulling out a skirt, holding it up to her waist, and giving Bobby a 'see what I mean?' look.

"I honestly don't see a problem," he said shrugging.

"I don't believe you could be that shallow, perhaps you're not thinking it through. Imagine if I were a size 16 or so…" Bobby thought, and then shook out his shoulders with a shudder. "Told you," she laughed. "I knew there were brains up there- hiding behind your libido…or is it the other way around?"

"Hey!" he laughed and gave her a push into the rack of clothes.

She rounded on him. "Hey!" she said unable to contain her laugh. "It's a reputation you deserve and you know it. Aside from the odd secretary i see wandering past with an extremely red face, how many rela…"

He cut her off, backing her up against the wall with an evil grin on his face, his hand gliding across her neck. His face was inches from hers. "You were more than willing-" She cut him off.

"That's because I'm mature enough to handle it. I am not your secretary- do you see me blushing uncontrollably? What is it with you and younger women?" she asked in a very light tone.

"I'm just a boy at heart, I suppose," he shrugged lightly. "How old are you, anyway?"

"I beg your pardon!" she asked incredulously. She was not going to become- no. She was a full 7 years younger than he was, and though she didn't think he knew that, she suspected that maybe he did. And she was not going to let be the only reason for them to…

"How old are you?" he asked still smiling.

"Not young enough," she said as she edged around him and left the cramped closet.