But to his delight her face had broken open in a huge smile and she had declared that his input was going to make her enjoy the book that much more. So she had continued with the next book and he found himself talking with her about what he read too, and they compared it to other things from their respective pasts. From there it grew until he realized as he stood waiting for her to emerge from her bedroom that they talked about pretty much anything and everything.

            Except dating. They sort of glossed over that subject. Now why was that? he wondered. Maybe he would ask her about it as they ate. For now he decided to go with one of her Calvin & Hobbes collections and sat down to read.

            Thankfully Alex had no idea what was going on in her partner's head. If she did it was a safe bet that she would lock herself in her bedroom and wait to come out until the coast was clear. As it was she found herself trying desperately to just hurry up and take her shower without getting distracted by thoughts of her partner. But when she thought about the fact that she was naked only one room away from him her mind went spinning and ended up conjuring all sorts of bad thoughts. And they weren't about any case they were working on. No these were bad as in bad.

            Like how she suddenly wondered: what would it be like to kiss Bobby? Of course that thought would just have to occur to her now, right? Sometimes he smiled at her in this way that she was sure few people had ever seen. And she found herself thinking about his lips and that smile. They held something, she was sure of it. They were full of so many delicious promises and potential. At least in her imagination they were. And of course she couldn't be taking a shower with Bobby in her apartment without envisioning him taking a shower. Oh dear. This wasn't good. Well the image certainly was but she shouldn't be doing this at all really but now especially. She groaned and banged her head against the wall.  She turned under the water and sighed; thankful that the spray drowned out any noise she made and set about the business of washing and rinsing as rapidly as possible.

            When she had finally finished getting dressed and had run a comb through her still-wet hair she emerged from the bedroom and saw Bobby reading on her couch. She walked over to him and smiled when she saw his choice of reading material. He glanced up when he heard her walking over and scooted over to make room for her. She peered over his shoulder as she sat down next to him and laughed when she read the strip he was on.

            "That's one of my favorites, and it's quoted pretty often as proof in the debate over intelligent life in the universe," Alex said, smiling at him.

            Bobby was about to say something but the buzzer from the outside entrance of the building sounded before he had a chance to. Alex pushed herself up and went to the door, turning and walking backwards to talk to her partner as she made her way across the floor.

            "You want to get us some drinks?"

            "Sure. What do you want?" he replied, turning around to face her when he heard her talking. She paused in the act of placing her hand on the intercom.

            "Some kind of soda with caffeine," she decided after a moment's pause.

            Goren got up from the couch and placed the book back in the bookcase. He scanned the rest of the titles again while he thought about what he wanted to drink. He decided to just have what she was having and made his way into the kitchen. As he passed by the door he looked over at the pizza delivery guy who had just arrived. He was a young guy, probably college-aged if Bobby had to guess. He was flirting with Alex but he became the model of professional behavior when he saw Goren's large frame pass through his line of vision. As soon as Bobby had entered the kitchen he allowed himself a small smile. That time he hadn't even been trying to intimidate anyone—sometimes it was as effortless as could be imagined.

            Alex came in and put the box down on the table. She went over to a drawer and rummaged around for a moment.

            "Red, yellow, blue or green?" she asked him.

            Bobby shook his head and grinned. Never let it be said that Alex didn't have a few quirks of her own. She always drank soda with a straw when one was available. Anytime he was over she would offer him one and he usually took her up on the offer if only because it made him smile later.

            "Hmm, I think red to go with the tomato sauce," he replied.

            "Good choice. Me, I think I'll go with blue."

            "Based on what?"

            "Well the straws are striped with white. So if you have red and white and I choose blue and white we're being all patriotic."

            She looked up and found Bobby looking at her with that half-smile that meant he was trying not to laugh. She rolled her eyes and opened one of the cabinets to get out plates.

            "So are we eating in here or in front of the television tonight?" she asked as she handed him two plates. It was really a toss-up which one they did more. She figured it was probably about even.

What they chose depended on mood, time of day, season of the year, and a host of other variables. When they did watch television they were usually able to agree on the choice. They simply turned to The Discovery Channel and left it at that unless there was something one or the other really wanted to watch. For her it could be a show about muscle cars; for him it could be a documentary on a favorite artist.

            "Do you have a preference?" he replied.

            "Well I want to hear all about what you saw in Jun-Thai's room so let's eat in here and I can listen without being distracted."

            "Sounds good to me."

            Bobby took care of transferring the pizza to their plates while Alex got the glasses and filled them with ice, placing the straws inside before pouring their sodas. She sat down across from him and handed him a napkin before taking one herself. She tried really hard not to think about how very domestic they sometimes were in their various routines. Thankfully one part of this routine was eating for at least a solid two minutes before talking so she could think a thought like that and still have time to think of something safer later.

            Goren began talking first after the allotted two minutes.

            "He had a quote from 'The Art of War' framed above the headboard."

            "Which one?" she asked.

            "'All warfare is based on deception.'"

            "Hmmm," she said, "That's rather odd."

            "I thought so too. Why do you find it odd?"

            She shrugged.

            "Well it's just that he probably considers himself a businessman and there seem to be quotes more apropos to that climate."

            He was nodding as she spoke.

            "Exactly what I thought. But maybe it refers to his deceit of the pregnant women?"

            She chewed thoughtfully and considered that notion.

            "Could be. It just feels off, that's all."

            "I know what you mean. I'll have to think about it more later and see if it ends up making sense somehow."

            "Right. Later. Now tell me some more about his place."

            He raised his eyebrows at her and took another bite of pizza. She exhaled loudly in frustration.

            "Fine. I'm sorry. I don't mean to take such a commanding tone. Please tell me more about his place. I promise if you want to know anything about the front door of that complex that I will regale you with the minutest of details to make it up to you."

            Admittedly a bit of a low blow, reminding him of how boring her aspect of the stakeout was, but she couldn't have Bobby think she was just going to kowtow to his silent demands for her patience. He had the decency to look guilty.

            "I'm sorry, Alex. I know you must have been bored out of your mind. Not to mention cold, wet, uncomfortable..."

            Now it was her turn to feel guilty. He certainly gave as good as he got. She stopped him with a dismissive wave of her hand.

            "Forget it. Nothing a good night's sleep or some serious stretching won't cure. What did the sheets in his bedroom look like?"

            He didn't say anything about the abrupt switch in topics, just answered her question.

            "Well for starters his sheets were yellow. And they were made out of silk, as far as I could tell. Very decadent. In China yellow is the color of the earth and of the emperor, or at least it used to be. His bathroom was decorated in marble and the hardware was gold plated. The shower had a floor-to-ceiling steam door and what I imagine would be a pretty impressive bathtub. The towels had designer labels as did all of the toiletries. The whole place was immaculate. He likes things neat. He has expensive tastes but I think they're acquired tastes."

            "What makes you say that?"

            "It looked like he was trying too hard. Plus it's all too much. It's like he has to have all the opulence around him."

            He leaned his elbows on the table and gestured with his hands.

            "There was something about the sheets that I found interesting."

            "And what would that be, pray tell?"

            He cocked his head to the side and pinned her with his gaze before clenching one hand in a loose fist and tapping it against his chin.

            "Well when you think of a masculine room with silk sheets your mind…"

            "…goes to colors like black or navy blue. Colors we consider male colors," she finished for him, nodding. "So why choose yellow?"

            He pointed his index finger at her as he spoke.

            "Bingo. In deference to something in his past, maybe? He probably chose the color subconsciously as a reminder."

            "Any clues in the room that gave a hint as to what that could be?" she asked.

            "No, not that I could see. He had a few books: The Kama Sutra, The Garden Encyclopedia of Feng Shui, and The Art of War were on one of his nightstands."

            "Any of the spines cracked to indicate he'd actually opened any of them or are they just for show?"

            He smirked at that. He had thought the same thing when he read through the titles.

            "Aside from The Art of War no sign he'd actually be able to tell you anything other than what the dust jacket says," he replied before getting serious again. "But there was something that bothered me about his place."

            "What was that?"

            "He had no pictures of people. No friends, no family, just photographs of architecture and landscapes."

            "Maybe he has no friends or family?" she suggested with a shrug.

            "Maybe. Or he has them; he just doesn't want anyone finding out about them."

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Disclaimer: Reality bites, my friends. And the reality is that I do not own the characters, just the plot.

Author's Note: Thanks so much to those ppl who have reviewed my story. You are all appreciated!

Ravenblackleather—and your review made *me* smile, so thank you!

Jra—I have one word for you...THANKS!

Cyclone—Aww you're too sweet! Thanks so much!

Kiera Kingsley—Well I appreciate the vote of confidence! You're awesome!

Edythe—I'm glad you're enjoying my characterizations. Thanks for reviewing!