Alex froze against him, wondering how much of their conversation he'd overheard. "Uh . . . hi," she finally managed, turning only her head, since he was holding her body still.

Bobby's eyes flicked to the bartender, who was still standing in front of Alex with a smile on his face. "Get lost, she's taken," he growled when the man ignored his glare.

To his dismay, rather than retreat, the man burst out laughing, followed a second later by Alex, who pulled out of his arms so she could lay her head on the bar as she laughed.

"I guess he doesn't recognize me, either," Oli choked out to Alex, who giggled in response.

"Why would I recognize you?" Bobby said, irritated at the guy for not being suitably intimidated.

"Bobby . . ." Alex started, but Oli waved her off.

"Picture me with long hair and thick glasses," he suggested.

Bobby squinted at the man and then blinked. "Oli? Oliver Matthews?"

"Yup."

He blinked again, trying to associate the scraggly teenager he'd known with the well-dressed and groomed man in front of him. "What did you do?"

Oli grinned at Alex. "Told you I changed a lot. Bobby," he said, looking back at the other man, "you'd be surprised what a difference contact lenses and a good barber can make."

"Guess so." Remembering that he had come to rescue his date from the amorous barkeep, he put an arm over Alex's shoulders and asked, "So, what were you guys talking about for a whole, uh, half-hour?"

She quickly looked back down at the bar, saying nothing.

Oli, however, had no compunctions about spilling the beans. "You," he told Bobby.

"You were talking about me?" Bobby repeated. "Alex?" he prompted, bending over to see her face.

"You can't expect me to come to your high school reunion and not be curious, Bobby," she muttered.

He straightened up and sighed. "You could have picked a better time to pick someone's brain than when I was trapped with Janet Stapleton."

Oli smirked. "Yeah, I was telling Alex about her too. We reached the conclusion that we weren't fans."

"Although I get the distinct impression that you are," Alex couldn't help adding.

"I'm what? A fan of Janet?" He shook his head. "Not quite."

"Looked like you were getting cozy with her over there. I thought I'd give you some privacy."

Bobby leaned over again, looking hard at her. "Do I detect a note of jealousy in your words?"

She sat up and scowled at him. "No, you do not."

Oli ducked behind the bar to refill her glass. "Want a drink, Bobby? No charge."

"Uh, sure. Scotch," he said absentmindedly, keeping his eyes on Alex. "Well? Jealousy?"

"You're not funny," she told him.

"I don't know about him," Oli said, putting their drinks in front of them, "but I'm sure getting a kick out of it."

"Argh!" she growled, slipping off the stool and standing up. "God save me from middle-aged chess nerds."

Bobby picked up their drinks and handed Alex hers, then looked up at Oli. "Thanks," he muttered, replacing his arm around her waist. "Now if you'll excuse us, I need a moment of privacy with my . . . uh . . ." He stopped, shook his head. "My . . . whatever she is."

"Oh, that was smooth," she murmured to him as he pulled her toward a less-crowded alcove. "Your 'whatever she is'?"

"Well, I didn't know what story you'd given him."

She sighed and leaned back against the wall. "Right. Now, go ahead and start the lecture, since you have my attention."

He cocked his head to the side. "I'm not going to lecture you. What topic were you expecting a lecture on?"

"How about 'How to not allow men to notice me'? Or possibly just a lecture on how you know x, y, and z about Oli and thus I shouldn't get near him."

"Uh, no. Actually, I wasn't going to say anything about you or Oli. I was just going to ask you to please not leave me alone with any more women tonight," he said, moving to stand in front of her so he could see her eyes.

She raised her eyebrows. "What, you don't like having girls climb all over you? That's a new one."

"Just . . . don't. I don't like having to fend them off."

"So you want me to do it for you?"

He shrugged. "You're a lot more effective."

"Oh, fine. If only so I can torment you with other things."

"Like deserting me and going to pick up the bartender?"

She grinned. "I was just getting a drink, but Oli's got good lines."

He looked down at her suspiciously. "Lines?"

"You know, pick-up lines?"

"He tried to pick you up?"

He didn't sound like he liked that idea, so she decided to downplay her interactions with the other man. The last thing she needed was to start a war. "I guess you could say he tried."

"How?"

"Why are you so interested?" she shot back.

He paused for a split second before answering, "You're supposed to be playing my girlfriend, Alex. You can't let other men try to pick you up."

"Well, I have to keep myself amused somehow, don't I?"

"What, I'm not amusing enough for you?" he said, feeling a little hurt.

She sighed. "You're fine, Bobby. It's just that I can only take so much of this . . . reunion conversation sort of thing," she said, waving her hand to indicate the packed room, "before I get the urge to scream."

"I'm sor-"

"No, no," she said, cutting off his apology. "I'm not complaining. I'm just saying I need the occasional break from all the smiling and nodding."

He leaned forward, putting one hand on the wall next to her head. "I've been ignoring you, haven't I," he said as he studied her face.

"It's fine, Bobby. It's your reunion, after all."

"I'll try to keep you with me and in the conversation, ok?"

She shrugged. "Don't worry about me. You should be busy enjoying yourself."

"No," he said firmly, removing his hand and moving back a step. "I'll do better. Come on," he said, taking her hand. "Let's go back out."

Holding back a groan, she followed.

They were hardly back in the room before he was recognized again. "Bobby? Bobby Goren?" A slightly-built woman stood in front of them, seeming to be studying him.

"Yes," he said slowly, trying to pin down her identity. "Annie?"

"Yes!" she said as a grin spread across her face. "I wasn't sure if it was you, you've changed so much since I saw you last . . ."

He studied her, taking in her simple cocktail dress and hairstyle. "I could say the same for you. I would never have expected to see you in a dress, for one thing!"

Alex shifted her weight beside him, trying to evaluate this Annie, the first woman they'd encountered tonight who hadn't either cooed or squealed his name in greeting. She also looked a lot less done-up than Susan and Janet had, and Alex decided that she might actually be able to like this woman.

She was so startled when Bobby tugged on her hand that it was only his quick reaction that kept her on her feet. "Whoa!" he said, catching her in a functional hug. "You ok?"

She took a deep breath. "Other than my bruised ego, yeah. Sorry about that."

"No problem," he told her as he steadied her. "I was going to introduce you to Annie," he said, gesturing to the other woman. "Annie was -"

"A friend," the woman finished quickly, leaving Alex to wonder what Bobby had been about to say. "My name's actually Annette, Annette Lombardi, but that's too much of a mouthful, so everyone just calls me Annie," she said with a friendly smile.

Alex noticed that the woman's eyes shifted to Alex's left hand and then back up to her face as she spoke. "Alexandra Eames," she said. "But 'Alex' works, too." She didn't bother with the girlfriend spiel; she'd decided that that was going to be up to him for the rest of the night.

Bobby looked down at her, slightly confused by her short introduction. "Alex is my, uh, girlfriend," he filled in when she just shrugged.

"Oh! Nice to meet you, Alex," Annie said, giving her an acknowledging nod. "Bobby, tell me everything that's been going on with you!"

"Uh . . ." He took a long moment to slip an arm around Alex, trying to think of something interesting that had happened since he last spoke to Annie ten years ago. "I got a promotion, so to speak."

"Oh yeah? To where?"

Alex's interest was suddenly piqued. Most people, when told about a promotion, would ask something like So, what's your job now? The fact that Annie had asked where Bobby was working suggested that she might be with the police or fire departments, or some other job where a promotion was often associated with a change in precinct or company.

Her inference was proved right when Bobby asked the woman, "Are you still with the NYFD?" He paused, then looked at Alex. "Annie's a paramedic. Or at least, was."

"Still am," Annie said with a smile. "And I still haven't found a way to get bloodstains off my clothes. But you didn't answer my question: where are you now?"

"Oh, uh, Major Case."

"Impressive," she said. "Congratulations."

Alex looked away and rolled her eyes. Bobby's connection to this woman was obviously very different from his connection with Janet Stapleton, and she wasn't sure if she liked it.

"Alex?" Bobby said, nudging her. "Annie asked what you do."

She blinked and returned her gaze to the other woman. "I, uh . . ." What did he want her to give as her job? Oh well, she decided after a second. His loss if he hadn't wanted her to tell the truth. "I'm in Major Case too."

Annie's eyes lit up and she gave Bobby a playful punch on the arm. "Hey, you finally wised up and found a girl who's not a bimbo!"

Bobby coughed self-consciously.

Alex couldn't help but laugh. Maybe this woman was all right after all. "Did he go for bimbos even back in high school?" she asked.

"Well, back then it wasn't so much that he went for them as that they went for him. He may be a little weird, but he's always been cute." She grinned. "It's only since high school that he developed the actual bimbo habit."

"Uh, Annie," Bobby muttered. "Would you please . . .?"

"Change the subject?" she said, as though she had predicted the request. "What would you rather talk about?"

Alex glanced up at Bobby, whose eyes were still on the other woman, and fought the urge to roll her eyes again. "Well if he doesn't have a topic on hand," she said after a second, "I'd like to hear more about what Bobby was like back then."

"Won't talk about himself, huh?"

"Not much," Alex acknowledged. "Although I've been getting bits and pieces tonight from his friends."

"Who've you met so far?"

"Susan Alexander, Dan Hon, Oli Matthews . . ."

Annie grinned. "The chess group," she said with a nod. "Yeah, they'd probably know the most about him besides me."

"Besides you?" Alex repeated.

"We, uh . . ." She stopped and looked at Bobby. "Do you mind me talking about this?"

He shrugged. "Alex is on a crusade tonight to figure me out. Fighting it would be useless at this point."

Annie gave Alex a smile. "The more he tells me about you, the more I like you. Well, anyway, I said I know Bobby better than the others because I've known him longer. We lived on the same block as kids."

Alex raised her eyebrows. "Do tell."

"There's not a real story to tell, but, well, we played together as kids, went through grammar school together, all that stuff."

"She knows my mom," Bobby interjected, knowing it would explain their relationship better to his partner.

Alex just looked at him for a second, then turned back to Annie. "You weren't in the chess club with the rest of them?"

Annie shook her head. "Spatial organization and long-term strategy are not among my talents. I did drama."

"From drama to emergency medicine," Alex said with a shake of her head. "Interesting."

Annie shrugged. "With medicine, you get to see actual results instead of just a bunch of heads in a dark theater."

"Trust me, the kind of drama where you do see results isn't much better."

"What?" Annie said, looking confused.

"I worked Vice," Alex said. "Take a guess about who got to play the lure just about every time."

"Ok, you definitely have a point there. You didn't mind wearing hooker clothes?"

"Well, it wasn't my idea of fun, but I could deal with it. I was never able to look at leather or miniskirts the same way after that, though."

Bobby moved behind her and rested his chin on the top of her head. "But as she's constantly reminding me, she looked good in them. Every now and then, we get her back into the clothes for an operation."

She tilted her head back, looking up at him. "Keep it up, and next time it's going to be you wearing the fur-trimmed mini skirt and tube top."

Annie grimaced. "I don't think they make those in his size."

"Drag queens have to get their clothes somewhere," Alex said with a shrug. "Of course, he might have to shave his legs."

"Not happening," Bobby said.

"Bull," Alex snorted. "You'd totally do it if we needed you to, and you'd somehow manage to look good in the clothes."

"Is that a compliment?" he asked cautiously, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Your girlfriend thinks you'd make a hot woman," Annie said with an incredulous laugh. "Alex, I definitely like you."

Bobby accepted his fate good-naturedly. "My one condition is that I am not wearing high heels. Ever."

Alex looked up at him pointedly. "Like you'd need them?"

He grinned and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "You've got -"

He was interrupted by the ringing of a bell and a voice calling, "Dinner is now being served in Ballroom 2. Please make your way into that room and find your place cards."

"I think that's my cue to hunt down my husband," Annie said, giving them an apologetic look. "See you in there."

"Bye," Alex said. "I think I like her," she told Bobby.

"Good," he said, taking his arms from around Alex. "So do I." He offered her his arm. "Let's go find our seats."