Alex straightened the last papers into a neat pile on her desk. Day two without Bobby Goren had passed uneventfully. At least he'd be back in the next day, and if nothing else, the fallout from Logan's prank would be amusing.

As she walked out of One Police Plaza, past the area where the smokers congregated, she heard someone calling her name.

"Eames! Wait up." Mike Logan trotted over to her, fresh from his post-work cancer break. "Taking off?"

"You really are the world's greatest detective, Mike. What tipped you off – the purse, the coat, the fact that it's past six…"

"I'll never reveal my methods, " he grinned. "So, I thought to myself, there goes Alex Eames. She looks tired, she looks bored, she looks hungry. I could help with all three."

"And what would you get out of this?" She looked at him skeptically. He was being far too cocky to be asking for a date.

"A charming companion? A decent meal? Some fascinating conversation? A ride home?" He bounced on his heels, waiting for an answer. Something was definitely up.

"So, you're asking me out to save subway fare? Somehow, that doesn't add up either." She pulled out her car keys. "Level with me, and I'll think about it. You've got thirty seconds."

"All right, you got me - I have a horrible ulterior motive. I couldn't possibly want to buy a good-looking lady dinner." She didn't even dignify that with a reply. "Okay, okay. I do need your help with something, but we can discuss it over food, and I'll pay. I assure you, you'll be entertained. And if you wanna call it a date, that's fine by me."

She made a quick mental chart of the stupidest things she'd ever done, and figured a quick rating for the possible outcome of the evening on it. Logan, for all his faults was a cop – it couldn't possibly land in the top five. "I'll hear you out. But it's not a date, I'm getting a drink and a dessert and you're leaving a good tip."

"Ow. I may be many things, but I'm not cheap. Easy, yes, but never cheap. Well, almost never."

"Do you have somewhere in mind, or am I choosing the restaurant?"

"That's part of the plan. Let's get going, and I'll explain on the way."

As they walked to the car, Logan made small talk about the paperwork she'd been doing, commiserating about the petty hassles of handling the gruntwork. He and Barek were apparently still trying to negotiate who did what. "But, you know, that's how it goes with a partner. You've gotta draw lines, and respect them."

Alex unlocked the doors, and he clambered into the passenger seat. Turning to her, he said, "Here's the deal. I choose the neighborhood, you pick the place."

"That seems random."

"Far from it. But try to get in the spirit of the adventure."

"Whatever. Which way do we go?"

"I'm thinking Brooklyn, out around Williamsburg. "

That caught her off guard, since she thought he lived near Staten Island. Bobby was the one who lived out in that direction. "You want to go to Brooklyn? Why the hell…oh, no. Tell me this isn't about yesterday."

"Now you're thinking."

"How long can you play the same joke?"

"Until I quit laughing." He wriggled his eyebrows, then abruptly became more serious. "Besides, it goes back to what I said about respecting lines. Your partner should re-draw his."

"And we'll make him do that by stepping all over the ones we've got."

"Yeah, we will. He's part of the squad, but he's too damn aloof. You remember when you were in school, that one kid all the teachers loved? Nobody played with that kid."

"Oh, and you did?" She bristled a little, partly in defense of Goren, partly in discomfort from some old memories.

"Me? Nah. But it's never too late to change." He shrugged. "Maybe it's a guy thing. I've been here, what, five months? I talk to the people around the office; I see how everyone goes around him, instead of including him. Man, do people think he's a geek. They respect him, but they avoid him."

"No they don't. What about his poker game?"

"I hate to break it to you, but, well, have you ever gone?"

"Eh, I don't do cards."

"It's geek central. They invited Carver, for god's sake. It's all techs, docs and specialists. Everybody there has some kind of academic system for playing, like it's a math problem instead of a game."

She laughed. "You lost big, didn't you?"

"You should learn to have faith in me. It was a carefully planned investment. I wasn't about to hand Bobby Goren and his people-profiling tricks any serious bank. I said he was a geek – I didn't say he wasn't brilliant at it."

"So you think a little ribbing should make him feel like one of the guys. Like he gets included."

"Exactly. I'm helping him, if you think about it. Nothing wrong with a little friendly joking – it proves you have friends."

Alex made a derisive snort. "Friends like you…"

"And you. Although it's funny, because you'd think your friends would know about what you had going on. You wouldn't, say, hide your phone calls, or lie about skipping work. Look, Eames, are you gonna let him get away with sneaking off like this? I mean, did you even know he was seeing anyone?" When she didn't answer, he pressed on. "It has to have been going on for at least three weeks by my calculations. He's being a slippery bastard about it. If he's going to go to the trouble of covering his tracks – even as poorly as he has – I wanna know why. And so do you."

That was the problem with hanging out with detectives – they homed in your motives too easily. Two could play at that game, though. "And, of course, this is a form of juvenile competition for you – you want to prove that you're working on his level. If you can catch him, you're scoring points off him in some weird little mystery game."

"We're scoring points. I think Bobby-boy underestimates some of the people he works with. He's good, really good, but so are we. We're not just spectators at the Goren show."

"So you want me to spy on my partner, possibly embarrass the crap out of him, definitely violate his privacy, just to say nyah, nyah, nyah, I'm smarter than you? Jeezus, Mike." She started the car. "I'm in."

"Alex, I think I love you."

"I'm getting two desserts."