When Eames got home from work the next day, he was sleeping, but dinner was sitting on the stove, and it was still warm. She smiled at him. Years ago, she had teased him, thinking he was a typical bachelor who couldn't boil water without a manual. That was before she realized that if he was anything, he was definitely not typical. No, Bobby had made her eat those words many times over, and she had enjoyed every single bite. She took out two plates and set them on the counter, accidentally knocking over his medicine bottles. She opened the bottles and checked to see if he'd remembered to take his medicine. He had taken his antibiotics, but not the pain medicine. She wondered if it was because he was feeling better. She dished out two plates and brought one over to him, setting it on the coffee table. She eased herself down on the couch beside him and touched his cheek. Slowly, he opened his eyes, surprised to see her. "What time is it?"

"Time to eat."

Carefully, he sat up, bracing his arm across his abdomen. She eased herself onto the cushion beside him after he swung his legs over and rested against the back of the couch. "So what did you do today?" she asked, handing him his plate.

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you think I did?"

"I suppose it's safe to assume you didn't go jogging."

"That would be a safe bet."

"Is there anything about you that's a safe bet, Bobby?"

He smiled. "I would venture to guess you know me well enough by now to know the answer to that."

She laughed. "We've been partners for more than five years, and you still keep me guessing."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"No, it's not. Life with you is never boring." She remained quiet for a little while before she finally began a conversation she'd been practicing in her head all day. As many different ways that she imagined it could go, there was no way for her to predict which one, if any, would be the right one. "I want to ask you something, Bobby."

He looked at her. Lately, conversations that began that way had not gone well for him. It ranked right up there with 'We need to talk.' "What?" he asked almost defensively.

She sighed, getting the feeling it wasn't going to go as well as she had hoped it would. So she mulled over in her mind exactly how she should phrase her question. "Yesterday," she began, noticing that he tensed at that one word. She had no doubt he knew what was coming, but, to his credit, he stayed where he was and let her continue. "You said something that I haven't been able to get out of my mind."

"What was that?"

He knew. She knew he did. He wasn't going to make this easy for her. Quietly, she said, "You said that if Nicole wanted to cause you real pain, she would have hurt me."

"And?"

He really wasn't going to make this easy. She was going to approach this from a different angle. "Do you remember any of the conversation we had while we were waiting for the ambulance?"

He shifted uncomfortably, and it wasn't pain that made him uncomfortable at the moment. He shook his head. "Not really."

"Do you want to know?"

He looked at her suspiciously. "I don't know. Do I?"

"I can't answer that for you. Tell me what you do remember."

He looked away. "You told me you were ok and that Logan…went after Nicole. You were…upset."

"And that's all you remember?"

He nodded. "That's all. Why? What did I say?"

"Not much. Do you remember your conversation with Nicole?"

"Yes."

"She tried to tell you I was going to leave, too." He refused to look at her. "And you told her…"

She deliberately trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the blank. He waited, and when she didn't continue, he realized what she wanted. He gave her that. "I told her if you wanted to leave I wouldn't stop you." He paused. "I meant that."

"I know you did. But after she left, you needed…reassurance."

He sighed heavily. He didn't remember that. He remembered looking for her through an encroaching darkness, a darkness that had finally enveloped him entirely, but he didn't remember anything he said, beyond making sure she was ok and telling her to help Logan. "What kind of reassurance?" he asked tentatively.

"Look at me." He continued staring at the floor. "Bobby, please…"

Finally he did as she asked and looked at her. She moved closer. "You avoided the answer to her question."

"Which one?"

"Do you think I love you?"

"It doesn't matter, Eames."

That was what he'd told Nicole, but she wasn't going to let him get away with it. "It matters to me, Bobby. It really does. She almost killed you, but harming me would have caused you more pain? How much do you think it hurt me, watching you collapse after she stabbed you?" She tried to keep the tears from her eyes, but she couldn't. "I…tried to stop the bleeding. But every time you moved, I could feel your blood spilling over my hands. Do you have any idea…" She couldn't continue, and it was her turn to look away.

He had no idea, and he could only imagine how that must have been for her. He wanted to hold her, to chase those memories from her mind, but he held back, for the moment. He reached out and, placing his hand under her chin, he turned her face toward him. "What kind of reassurance was I looking for?"

"What do you think?" He wasn't making this easy for her; she wasn't going to make it easy for him, either.

He let his hand fall away and he just looked at her. He hadn't asked for this; it wasn't something he wanted to talk about in the first place. He forced himself off the couch and carried his plate into the kitchen. She watched him, annoyed that he wouldn't talk to her. She was also annoyed, very annoyed, that he wouldn't let her help him more. He wasn't used to being the one being taken care of, and he wouldn't let her step into that caretaker role. She got up and followed him into the kitchen. He was leaning on his arms, head bent, at the sink. "Bobby?"

He just shook his head and motioned for her to leave him alone. So she stood there, watching him with a worried frown. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed and he stepped away from the sink. He caught her worried look, and his own face creased into a frown. "Don't look at me like that," he said softly. He walked past her and lifted his coat from the coat rack. "I'll be back."

"Bobby…"

He looked at her. "It's ok, Eames. I just need some air. I'll be back."

Of all the ways she had imagined this conversation going, this had not been one of her scenarios. Leave it to him to find the one she had not anticipated. She wasn't sure if she should follow him or just let him be. She had not finished talking to him, and she didn't like his avoidance. She wasn't going to let him get away with it, and he knew that. So she sat down to wait for him, letting him have this time alone. He seemed to think he needed it, so she let him be…for now.