She opened the door and stepped into the room. It was a large room, a nursery. Outside, the rain beat a staccato rhythm against the window pane. Inside, the walls were decorated with pairs of animals, punctuated by arks and rainbows. A dresser and changing table were off to one side of the room, and, against the wall in the far corner, was a crib. It was a sweet room. She headed across the room toward the crib, apprehension growing inside her the closer she got, though she didn't know why. Hearing a noise behind her, she turned. There was a bright light, casting the door in shadows, but she recognized the silhouette that stood there. Her apprehension faded. There was no reason for her to be afraid when he was nearby. She continued her journey across the room toward the crib. She didn't know why she was there; she didn't even know whose baby it was in the crib. But there was an eerie silence in the room. She glanced back over her shoulder. The silhouette remained. Finally, she got to the crib. A Noah's Ark mobile turned lazily on its axis above the baby's bed. A pillow and blanket were settled on the mattress beneath the mobile. Reaching down into the bed, she folded the blanket back from the baby…but the baby was gone…Her heart leaped into her throat. Where could he be? Turning, seeking comfort and advice from the man in the doorway, everything came crashing down around her when she saw the silhouette was gone. The room started spinning…everything faded away to nothing….only emptiness remained…emptiness and fear…she started to run, but she was getting nowhere…and she shouted his name into the emptiness…

"Bobby!"

She sat bolt upright in her bed, drenched with sweat, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest. She had trouble catching her breath. She was shaking uncontrollably…before she even knew what she was doing she had her phone in her hand, dialing with trembling fingers a number she knew by heart. The ring echoed in her head as she mumbled, "Pick up….pick up…" She was still trembling. "Damn it, pick up…"

The line clicked, then a groggy voice answered, "Hello?"

She choked a sob back into her throat. "Bobby?"

"Eames? What's wrong? Are you ok?"

Just hearing his voice calmed her down, though not enough to keep the shakiness from her voice. "Yeah, yeah, I-I'm fine."

"So why are we on the phone at…uh…three-thirty in the morning?"

"Is that what time it is? Damn."

"You sound shaky. What's wrong?"

"N-nothing. Really."

"You called me in the middle of the night for nothing?"

"I called…" Oh, hell…she did. She did call him. How was she going to get out of this one? "I…I'm sorry. I…just…I…oh, never mind. It's not important."

"Eames," he sounded fully awake now. "It's not nothing and it's not unimportant. I know you better."

"Look, Bobby, just forget it, ok? I'm sorry I woke you…it was just…stupid, ok? I'll call you in the morning."

She set the phone in its cradle before he could say anything else. She sat there for a few minutes, hugging her knees, willing her trembling to stop. Damn. She slid out of bed and walked to the kitchen. Why had she called him? It was just a stupid dream. What the hell was it about him that she just couldn't get out of her head?

She pulled the mug of water out of the microwave when it beeped and dropped a teabag into it. She recalled the panic she'd felt in her dream at turning around toward the doorway and finding him gone. She had been terrified…and in her terror, she had sought him out. She hated being frightened…it made her feel weak. And the only person in the world she was comfortable showing that weakness to was…her partner? No, more than her partner…he was her best friend. Of course she turned to him. Who else would she turn to? Who else would understand her? But did he understand? She'd seen the confusion on his face often of late. She wasn't about to explain hormones to him. So how could she explain her erratic behavior? He would know it had to do with the pregnancy and the birth. Bobby wasn't stupid. She hoped he would realize this was all temporary, and not give up on her. No…he wouldn't give up on her. Never. After all, she hadn't given up on him, had she? Well, almost…but almost didn't count. This wasn't horseshoes or hand grenades.

She tossed the teabag into the trash, added a little milk and a lot of sugar. Drifting aimlessly into the living room, she curled up in her corner of the couch with her blanket, and she was suddenly still. She brought the blanket up to her face and took a deep breath. She started trembling again as the scent of his cologne drifted to her from the blanket. It was Friday night, er, Saturday morning, and it had been two days since he'd sat on the couch with her half the night, watching The Sound of Music and just staying because she'd asked him to, despite the fact he had to go in to work the next morning…but his scent lingered, and she…felt closer to him somehow, because of it. She missed him. Talking to him had helped a little. Just the sound of his voice had settled her. She didn't want to think about what her dream could mean. She just wanted to sleep without dreaming…

Her tea was gone and she had drifted off on the couch, cuddled up within the blanket, when a knock at the door jolted her to wakefulness. She looked around the room, and another knock sounded…a cop's knock this time, forceful and certain. She got up and walked to the door, looking through the peephole. She felt the tension flee her body as she recognized the person on the other side of the door. Twisting the deadbolt out of its cradle, she pulled the door open and looked at her partner. He stood there looking back at her, hair disheveled, the hint of sleep still in his eyes. "You can't be surprised to see me," he said, hiding his relief at finding her ok.

She stepped away from the door and went back to the couch, not answering him. He came into the apartment and relocked the door. She didn't look at him. He watched her for a minute before he slid out of his jacket and hung it on the coat rack near the door, a coat rack he'd given her because he got tired of draping his coat over the back of the couch and then sitting against it. He walked over to the couch and sat beside her. Content to wait for her to speak, he leaned his large frame back and stretched out his legs. She finally turned her head to look at him. He was casually dressed, in jeans and a white button-up shirt with no tie. She hardly expected him to put on a suit to play therapist in the middle of the night. "Why'd you come over?" she asked.

"Did you expect me to just let it go where you left me? You woke me up in the middle of the night, your voice shaking like hell, and you expect me to just accept that 'it was stupid' and go back to sleep? Come on, Eames, you know me better than that."

"I…I had a bad dream. I…I don't know why I called you, Bobby. I didn't even realize I'd done it until you answered. It was…just a dream." Just a dream…

He moved closer to her, sliding his arm along the back of the sofa. She didn't move until his fingers gently touched her shoulder. Dissolving into tears, she fell into his arms and cried. He just held her, because that seemed to be what she wanted him to do.

When she quieted, he still didn't move. The only thing he knew to do was follow her lead. If she wanted to pull back from his arms, she would, and he would let her. But she didn't. So he held her. When he looked down at her, to make sure that she was ok, he was surprised to see that she was asleep. What the hell was going on with his partner? Hormones? He heard a lot about hormone fluctuations following pregnancy. He'd even read up on it after she'd gotten pregnant. He wouldn't tell her that, but he did. He'd done a lot of reading about pregnancy, to help him understand what she was going through as best that he, as a man, could. He leaned back slowly, sliding over a little so that she was in a more comfortable position. She shifted in her sleep, snuggling closer to him. He smiled; he liked having her close. Draping his arm over her protectively, he picked the remote up from the end table and switched on the television.