He sat there for a minute, looking at her. But he didn't say anything. Then he looked away, brow creased, and got up, walking into the living room and dropping down onto the couch. She watched him lean forward, arms on his knees, head down. She knew that posture…he was thinking. Again, not a good sign. She had no clue what he could be thinking or how he was feeling. As good as he was at reading her, he was that much better at hiding from her. She walked slowly into the living room, never taking her eyes away from him.

"Bobby…" she started, sitting lightly beside him.

"What's this all about, Alex? Because I'm really confused here."

"I didn't…" she trailed off. No, she couldn't tell him she didn't mean it. Firstly, that would be a lie, and she didn't want to lie to him. She did love him, very much. She had for a long time. Secondly, she had a strong feeling he felt the same way, and she couldn't hurt him like that. He'd been hurt too much in his life by people he loved.

He turned his head toward her. Why had she stopped? She'd spoken without thinking, said the wrong thing…he knew what was next. So he completed her statement for her. "You didn't mean it."

What was he doing? She couldn't read his face…for a change it was almost blank. "Is that what you want me to say?"

"Only if it's the truth."

"The truth…" She thought about that for a minute. "You want the truth? Do you really want the truth, Bobby?" He didn't answer, but the blank look on his face had changed to one of surprise. She leaned closer. "Be careful what you ask for."

She leaned back, not really knowing what else to say. But she did know one thing she had to get straight. She had to tell him the truth. "I won't tell you I didn't mean it, because I did. I just…didn't mean to say it."

"Like you didn't mean to call me at three o'clock in the morning?"

"Exactly."

"Ok, Eames…I give up. I really don't know what you want me to do here."

"Why does it matter what I want? You're staying, remember?"

He almost laughed, but he really wasn't amused. He was frustrated, almost angry. He swallowed those feelings though, quickly. Frustration and anger would be of no help here whatsoever. So he got up and went over to the table. He took the dishes from the table into the kitchen. Frowning, she watched him. "Why the hell are you washing the dishes?" she asked, once she realized what he was doing.

"Because I don't know what else to do and if I don't do something I'll explode."

She smiled. That was her Bobby. Always needing to be doing something, burning off that boundless energy of his. She waited for him to finish and come back into the living room. "Somehow," she said as she watched him pace the room restlessly, "I doubt you would ever become a fixture on my couch."

He looked at her, his mouth twitching slightly as he tried to hide his smile, before he lowered himself back onto the couch beside her. When he finally turned to look at her, no hint of a smile remained. "What's going on with you?"

His face was sincere; he really was worried. She expected no less…not from him. She turned sideways on the couch, fully facing him. "I'm sorry I've worried you. I tried…" She looked down at the couch between them. His hands were knotted in his lap, a sure sign that he was uneasy. "I never meant to do this to you."

And she had known, ever since she'd started feeling so…out-of-sorts…that he would worry. She doubted he'd ever had to deal with a post-partum partner before. He probably never had to deal with a post-partum anyone before. But when her dreams had turned so…God, she wasn't even sure how to classify them. Erotic? Just the thought of that embarrassed her. There was no friggin' way she was going to tell him that! But her nightmare…that had never happened before and it still frightened her. Maybe that one she could discuss with him without having to wear a paper bag over her head to face him again.

"Alex?" She looked at him blankly. He touched her arm, bringing her crashing back from her thoughts. "Please," he said softly. "Don't shut me out. You called me for a reason, and I know it wasn't to torment me. Whatever you need…I'm here and I'll do whatever I can to help, but I have to know what's wrong."

How could she tell him that he was a big part of what was wrong, and an even bigger part of what was right? Ok, Alex…let's start with the nightmare and see where this goes. If she was lucky, she'd be able to get through this with her dignity still somewhat intact.

She wanted coffee…but she'd forgotten to make some. If she got up now to do it, he'd think she was stalling again, and maybe she was. Never mind the coffee…she'd get it later. He was more important than her need for caffeine…and she could tell his agitation was increasing. He couldn't help it…he wanted…no, not any more. He needed to know what was wrong with her.

"I'll be perfectly honest with you, Bobby. I don't know what's wrong. My emotions have been all over the place, and for no good reason."

"But that's not why you called me."

"No. That's not why I called you. I don't even know why I called you. I…had a bad dream, and I was scared, and I didn't even think about it. I called you. And then I was embarrassed because I did. How ridiculous was that, to call you because of a stupid dream? I woke you up, and I doubt somehow that you even sleep that much to start with…and…why are you looking at me that way?"

His head was tilted to the side and he'd raised an eyebrow. "I've never heard you ramble before."

And she really hadn't told him a thing he didn't already know. "I'm embarrassed, ok?"

"Why?"

"Didn't I just go through that?"

"So? You called me and woke me up. That's not a big deal. You were scared by something, and that is a big deal. Tell me about the dream."

"I'm not sure I want to go back there."

He'd have to ease her into this. "Where is there?"

Ok…she'd give him that much. "A room."

"A room? What kind of room?"

"It was…a nursery. Noah's Ark."

He frowned. "A nursery on Noah's Ark?"

She laughed again. "No. A nursery decorated with Noah's Ark."

That made more sense. He gave her a small smile. "Ok. What was in the room?"

"Just baby furniture."

"And what did you do in the room?"

"I…walked across it." She suddenly tensed and she could feel the trembling start. She jumped to her feet, walking around the room like he did when he was agitated, trying to hide it from him. Like that was going to work… "I walked toward the crib…and I heard something…something behind me."

"What was it?"

"I don't know. But when I turned I could see a silhouette in the doorway, and I felt better."

"Who was it?"

"It was just a silhouette." She wasn't sure she wanted to tell him who it was. "So I went back to walking toward the crib. And when I got there, and I folded back the blanket…"

She couldn't hide the shaking any more, and he couldn't let her stand there like that. He got up and went to her, tentatively reaching out to touch her. He wasn't at all certain how she'd receive this measure of comfort, but he couldn't just sit there and watch while she trembled from some vague fear left over from this nightmare. His fingers touched her shoulder, just above her collar bone, and she turned into him, sliding her arms around him and holding tight. He could still feel her shaking, and he stroked her hair, absently kissing her temple. She pressed herself against him, feeling reassured by his arms around her and comforted by his gentle kiss. Her shaking eased. She knew, in her dream world as well as in her life, that he was the one who could chase away her demons and subjugate her fears. He spoke softly against her hair. "What was under the blanket, Alex?"

She shuddered, but the trembling did not return. "Nothing," she answered. Tears were now rolling freely down her cheeks. "There was nothing under the blanket. The baby was gone."

He nodded, as though he had expected that answer. She tightened her arms about his waist. She couldn't let him go. She'd lost him in that dream, and her world had collapsed. She wasn't about to let that happen again.

He waited a few minutes before he asked, "Then what happened?"

"I turned back…toward the door…and you were gone."

"I…I was gone?"

He sounded genuinely surprised. She nodded, gripping him tighter. "You...you were the one in the doorway. The baby was gone…and you were gone…and everything…everything just…fell apart and went away." She was crying now. "And I was alone…spinning out of control…and…and…there was nothing…"

He held her firmly against him, an arm across her back and a hand against her head. He rested his cheek against the top of her head. He understood. He really understood. Similar dreams of abandonment, of emptiness, of…nothing…had plagued him all his life. And he'd never had anyone to turn to, to seek comfort from. He didn't quite understand why she was having such dreams, but he would never belittle her by suggesting they were meaningless.

He gently guided her back to the couch and sat down with her. Her sobs had quieted and her arms had loosened their death grip around his waist. She sat back and looked at him. "So," she asked, only half-joking. "Do you think any less of me now?"

He frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"I always thought I was stronger than that."

"Than what? Your subconscious? No one is a master of their subconscious, Alex."

"Ok, Dr. Freud, what does my dream mean? And don't tell me I want to sleep with my father."

He laughed softly. "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. Remember what you said the other day, about not having a baby?"

"Oh, yeah…something else I never meant to tell you. Thanks for reminding me."

"What do you think I'm going to do? Run and tell your sister how much it hurt you to give up the baby? Or tell your folks you feel empty inside because he's gone?"

She stared at him. Conflicting emotions battled inside her. She didn't know whether to hug him for understanding or to hit him for the same reason. But she had been right about one big thing---Bobby understood. She opted for the hug.

Resting her head against his shoulder, she was comforted by his arms around her, and she felt better than she had since they'd taken the baby away. For the first time, she felt like everything really would be okay, like she would be okay.

She turned her face up toward his and met his eyes. She didn't move, seeing something in his eyes that disturbed her…a deep sadness she had not seen before. But it was fleeting, gone before she was even sure it had been there. But it had been there and she knew it. It didn't take Sigmund Freud to understand why it was there. Fear of abandonment, loneliness…those were his constant companions.

She felt an overpowering urge to comfort him just then. She leaned her face closer and let her lips touch his. His eyes slid closed and he leaned into her kiss. All fears of abandonment, all feelings of loneliness, of emptiness were chased away as he pulled her closer, as she kissed him more deeply.

He pulled back reluctantly, breaking the kiss and struggling hard to get himself under control. His breathing was ragged, his world was spinning, and he was asking himself, What the hell are you doing?

She rested her head back, also struggling to catch her breath, to control her raging…desire? She sat up suddenly, looking around the room as if a fog had lifted. This wasn't a dream, not this time. She looked at him, seeing his confusion and a desire that rivaled her own. She could also see his struggle, and she knew he, too, teetered on the edge of a precipice neither could fall from. But she leaned toward him again, and he did nothing to stop her, except mutter a feeble protest that was lost before it was uttered as her mouth claimed his again.