It was a small diner, but it was warm and had an air of coziness that offered the two detectives a small modicum of comfort. They slid into a booth opposite Officer Mitchell, and a waitress handed them menus.

Mitchell looked at their tired faces, and he could clearly see the worry in Eames' eyes. "Excuse me for a minute and I'll call to see how your friend is doing."

They watched him slide from the booth. Eames was staring at her menu, but she wasn't seeing it. Logan gently took it from her hands. "Let's start with some soup, ok?"

"I…Mike…" She looked at him. "What the hell kind of backup did we give him? We stood there and watched while she stabbed him and ran."

"Did you see the weapon?"

"No."

"Did you think for a second she'd hurt him?"

"I…she had never threatened him physically before. She preferred to play mind games with him."

"Mind games with Goren…God, she really is crazy. So what did we do wrong? If we'd seen or suspected any kind of physical threat, we were right there. I'd have gone in, in a heartbeat. He was expecting me to be there, Alex. I told him I would be. He must not have felt threatened, or he'd have indicated it."

She looked at her hands, which she'd washed several times to get out the blood the sea had not washed away. She sighed, half in aggravation, half in exasperation. "Bobby never feels threatened."

Logan remembered being trapped in a locked down prison with him, when their lives actually were threatened. Goren never acted threatened, and he'd talked down those guards…Logan had thought then that the big cop from Major Case was a crazy S.O.B. But he'd saved their lives, and he had always been grateful for that. "He always protects whoever he's with, doesn't he?"

She nodded. "Yes, he does."

Mitchell came back and slid into the booth. "They got him stabilized and into surgery. The knife hit his liver and he lost a lot of blood. They'll call me when they know more." He looked at Eames. "I have a message for you from the docs, detective. You were the one who put pressure on his wound right away, and held it there, right?"

"Yes. I kept him talking for as long as he could…"

"Well, the docs said to tell you that you saved his life, kept him from bleeding out. I thought maybe that'd help you feel a little better."

"Thank you," Eames said quietly.

Logan saw the tear roll down her cheek. "She's been through an ordeal," he said. "We came down here to save her life."

Mitchell glanced at the menu; he'd been here a hundred times and almost had it memorized. Setting the plastic-encased paper aside, he looked at Eames and Logan. "You folks want to tell me what went down out there?"

Piece by piece they put it all together for the officer, interrupted only by the waitress stopping by for their order. Logan ordered vegetable beef soup for him and Eames, and a corned beef sandwich for him with coffee for both of them. Mitchell ordered the meatloaf special. Their food came as Logan wrapped up the story. "She stabbed Bobby, ran out of the damn hotel and jumped into the ocean. End of story."

Eames idly stirred her soup with her spoon. "She'll be back. She can't leave him alone."

"What is it about him that she keeps coming back to?" Mitchell asked.

"No one knows," Eames answered. "Not even him."

"She's not right in the head," Logan said. "I still can't believe she jumped into the damn ocean and swam out to sea!"

Eames was silent, staring into her soup again, pushing it around with her spoon, but not eating it. Neither Logan nor Mitchell knew what to say, so they stayed quiet. Logan finished his sandwich and Mitchell focused on his potatoes. The Seaside cop's radio came to life and he took one more bite of meatloaf. "I've gotta run." He pulled out his pen and scribbled something into his notebook. Ripping out the page, he handed it to Logan. "Here are directions to the hospital and my number. Call me if you need anything while you're here, and please let me know how your friend makes out." He got up. "Don't worry about dinner. I've got it."

"Thanks," Logan shook his hand. Eames just smiled at him, and he laid a hand on her shoulder as he passed her on his way toward the door. He waved to the waitress, pointing to the table and calling, "I'll get it later."

She waved back and he was gone. Moments later, they heard a squeal of tires punctuated by the siren of his patrol car as he pealed from the parking lot. The waitress came to the table and refilled their coffee cups. Logan watched Eames as she returned to contemplating her soup. Finally, he slid his arm along the back of the booth behind her and leaned toward her. "He's going to be ok, Eames."

She frowned at him. "How do you know that, Mike? Do not patronize me, if you know what's good for you."

"I'm not patronizing you. I really believe that."

"Ok, cue me in. How do you know that?"

"First of all, this has become a war, and he's not going to let her win." She understood that reasoning and nodded in agreement. "Secondly," he went on. "He's not going to leave you."

She looked at him. "What are you talking about?"

He considered the best way to explain this to her. "You didn't see him, Alex. He was ready to explode but he had nothing to direct it at. He…didn't do well at all without you. I've seen how you moderate his moods, and without you…" He shook his head. "Now look at you, everything you've been through the past couple of days, and you can't get your mind off him." He nodded at her bowl. "You won't eat, and you really need to. If Barek and I can develop even part of a connection like you have with him, she'll be the best partner I ever had, and I've had some damn good partners."

She couldn't explain it, even to herself. All she knew was that she worried about her partner and he watched out for her. They did have a connection, an emotional attachment to each other that somehow transcended the partnership. "Let's go to the hospital, Mike."

"I was waiting for you to say that."

He dropped a five on the table and they headed out to his car.