The table in the conference room was scattered with crimes scene photos and reports. The photos from all three scenes were arranged for comparison and Goren was leaning over them. His jacket was draped over the back of a chair and his tie was off. Eames had a stack of paperwork in front of her, but she was mostly just keeping him company and listening to him think aloud, tossing out suggestions whenever they occurred to her, which wasn't often. They were almost to the bottom of the well with this case.

She was halfway through another form when her pen started to skip. "Son of a bitch," she growled, throwing the pen at the garbage pail across the room.

She got to her feet and glared at her partner, who had looked up at her. He tried his best to look innocent. "What?"

"That's the third damn pen that's started skipping on me."

"We must have grabbed a bad box."

"Goren," she said, through clenched teeth as she continued to advance on him. "Give me my pen."

He straightened up and started to back away from her. "Hey, you're the one who threw it at me."

"I want my damn pen."

He slipped the pen from his pocket and held it out, grinning and backing around the table. "It's all yours if you can get it."

"Damn it, hold still and let me have my pen."

"You shouldn't have thrown it at me."

"Next time I'll throw the stapler at you."

She backed him against the wall by the filing cabinet, and he held the pen up out of her reach. She put her hands on her hips and said, "I am not jumping after my pen. Quit being juvenile and give me the damn thing." He laughed softly, and she softened a little. It was good to hear him laugh. "Come on, Bobby, give me my pen so I can finish this paperwork."

She started poking him in the ribs, and he couldn't move away, so he finally relented and gave her the pen. "Ok, Eames, you win," he said with a smile and a laugh.

"I always do," she laughed, touching his cheek before she turned away and went back to the table. He leaned his head back against the wall for a minute before he went back to his photos.

The door opened and Deakins looked in. "Everything ok in here?"

"Fine," Eames answered without looking at him. She held the pen up. "I was just getting my pen back."

The captain looked at Goren, who hadn't looked up from the table, then back at Eames. He pulled the door closed as he left, shaking his head but hiding a smile.

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This isn't good, Eames thought. They were tired and hungry, and her partner had been staring at those photos all day. She was just realizing that his attention was being drawn more and more to the pictures of the Solomon murder. She glanced at the time. Six twenty. Enough…

"Let's call it a day, Bobby. I'm exhausted." He looked at her, quiet for a minute. She knew he was thinking about arguing; he wasn't ready to stop. But he seemed to think twice about it and all he said was, "If you want."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "What? No argument?"

"I'm too tired to argue, Eames. And it never gets me anywhere but annoyed, anyway."

She looked at him. That wasn't entirely true. Sometimes he argued with her just for the sake of arguing, which annoyed her. "Are you ok?"

"Sure. I'm fine. Let's go."

She watched him gather the pictures and the files together. They went to their desks where he shrugged into his jacket and slipped his tie into his pocket. He muttered something to King, who got up from under the desk and followed him as he started for the elevators. He stopped and looked at her. "Coming?"

"Since I'm your ride, where are you going to go without me?" He didn't answer, and she was concerned. "Don't lie to me, Bobby. Tell me what's wrong."

Now he was getting annoyed. She should know by now that if he wanted to talk about it, he would. "What's wrong is I'm going to leave anyway and walk home."

"Good plan, Bobby. Maybe you'll get there by dawn."

He raised his hands and shrugged. She watched him walk away and get on the elevator with the dog. Stubborn, stubborn idiot. Well, if he wanted to walk all the way home…

By the time she got off the elevator at the parking garage, she was talking to herself, ranting about stupid, stubborn men and idiot partners…and speak of the devil, there he was, leaning against the car, waiting for her.

"I ought to make you walk for that." He shrugged, and she shook her head. "Get in the damn car, Goren."

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Goren stepped up to the bar, easing his tall frame onto a vacant stool. The bartender came over to him. "What's your poison tonight, Bobby?"

"Scotch, neat. Make it a double."

"You got it."

He rested his head on his hand while he waited. He was having a hard time getting the image of Lydia Solomon out of his head. He could see her in his mind's eye, toddling across the yard after her big brothers. He could see her playing with King, chasing the twins when they played 'Monster,' smiling at her father. The bartender set the glass on the bar in front of him. He waved thanks and looked into the drink. He'd known that child all her life. He downed the drink and signaled for another…then another…

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Eames fell asleep on her couch, watching a movie. She was trying hard not to feel uneasy being alone in her apartment and it annoyed her that she could not pin down the source of her uneasiness. She toyed with the idea of calling someone…Barek, or Benson, maybe…but the person she did finally call did not answer his phone, probably for the same reason she'd had to call him three times this morning. She couldn't help feeling a small pang of jealousy. She decided not to try calling him again.

The doorbell woke her. She looked at the clock as she got up and walked to the door. It was approaching midnight. Pulling the door open, she was surprised to see Goren there, with King. "Bobby? What's wrong?"

He tilted his head and looked at her. "I woke you. Sorry."

"Come on in. Are you ok?"

"Why wouldn't I be ok?"

She watched him walk into the apartment. He was a little unsteady. "Did you drive over?"

"Hell, no. King needed to go for a walk."

"So you walked over here from your apartment?"

"It's not that far."

"It's getting late, though."

"I…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you…"

"No, no, I wasn't complaining. Something's bothering you. What is it?"

He rubbed his forehead. "I…I can't sleep, Eames. I close my eyes and…and I see Lydia…I knew her, Alex. I knew her…"

She saw his turmoil and she understood. She gently pushed him toward the couch. "Sit down and I'll make some coffee. We can talk about it, ok?"

"You got a beer?"

"No. Sit down."

He dropped onto the couch when she went into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she came out of the kitchen. "The coffee will be done in…"

She stopped and looked at him, shaking her head slowly. He was asleep. She sat lightly on the coffee table and gently smoothed his curls off his sweaty forehead. "Look at you," she whispered. "What's this case doing to you?"

Getting a blanket from the closet, she covered him and leaned over to kiss him. "Good night, Bobby," she said softly. When she went into the bedroom, she left the door open, just in case he needed her.

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It was mid-morning when Deakins emerged from his office, a powerful headache pounding behind his eyes. "Goren, Eames, Logan and Barek. Get your asses in here now."

He sat down at his desk and rubbed his forehead, waiting for the four detectives to assemble. Looking up, he saw Eames and Barek sitting in the chairs, Logan hovering behind them and Goren sitting on the table off to the side, where he often sat. "I have been on the phone since seven this morning. This is a nightmare, people. There are three dead girls, all police officers' daughters, and we have no clue who's killing them."

"We know that," Goren grumbled, frustrated that they weren't making any progress.

Deakins ignored him. "Logan and Barek, I want you to give them a hand. I want this case solved, do you understand me, people?"

No one said a word, which was wise. The captain waved a hand in dismissal. "Get busy. Goren, stay."

Goren stayed where he was while the other three detectives left. Eames looked back at him before she closed the door. Deakins looked at him. "Where's the dog?"

"At my desk."

"Look, Bobby, I talked with Eames this morning. You had a really hard time yesterday. Is there anything I can do?"

Goren rubbed the back of his neck. "No. I'm ok."

The captain studied him. "You have any problems, let your partner know. Take care of yourself, Bobby, and find this son of a bitch…before my damn head explodes."

Goren nodded and left the office. Eames looked at him as he dropped down into his chair. "Everything ok?"

"He wants me to let you know if I have any problems."

She smiled. "So do I."

He leaned toward her. "I'm ok, Eames."

"You weren't last night."

"And I came to you, didn't I?"

She nodded and said, "Just make sure you always do, Goren."

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Eames looked up from the file in front of her, at her partner. He had leaned back in his chair and was staring at the ceiling. She knew he was thinking, making connections no one else could, but it was just leading him in circles. The odd cologne had him confused. It meant something, but he seemed to get stuck on the memories of his own childhood, when his father came home smelling that way. She knew how obsessed he could get.

"Bobby?"

He lifted his head to look at her. "What?"

"We should go over what we have with Barek and Logan."

"What we have, Eames, is a whole lot of nothing much."

"I know. I…" She was interrupted by the phone. He leaned back again, half-listening to her, half lost once again in his own thoughts.

"Hey." She tossed a balled up paper at him, hitting him on the chin. He raised his eyebrows and looked at her. "We're taking Logan and Barek over to SVU. We're going to fill them in and brainstorm."

Goren groaned. "Great."

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They arrived at the SVU squad room after lunch. As a gesture of trust, Goren had left King with Deakins. Two tables were set up in an empty interrogation room, one of them had the crime scene photos spread over it, the other held the reports. The eight detectives spread themselves about the room. Goren sat mostly removed from the others, until Logan pulled up a chair and sat near him. Eames and Benson took it upon themselves to go over all the evidence and explain what they were thinking. Goren and Stabler kept silent.

When they were done, Eames shrugged. "And that's where we are."

Fin was frowning. "What's up with the cologne? That's really weird."

Stabler looked at Goren. "You want to field that one, Goren?"

"I don't know what the significance is yet."

"I don't think there is any significance," Stabler challenged.

"The same scent is left on all three bodies, each a day apart from one another, and you think it's not significant? On just one body, I would agree. But not on all three. It wasn't sprayed around the room and it doesn't seem to have been left to mislead us. It…" He trailed off, frowning. Eames knew that look. He was getting past his mental barricade.

The other detectives watched him skeptically. Logan and Barek now knew him well enough to realize he was probably making an obscure connection and they gave him his space, sitting silently and waiting. Benson looked at Eames, who motioned for her to be patient. Stabler shook his head and shifted impatiently in his chair. Fin and Munch looked at each other. "What the hell's his problem?" Fin asked.

Logan matched Fin's frown with one of his own. "Just chill out," he said. "He'll let us in on it when he's ready."

Goren had gotten up and gone to the table with the photos on it. He leaned over them and studied them some more. Eames looked worried. He had turned into himself and was lost in his own mind. After a few minutes, he looked up, thoughtful. "Eames," he said quietly. "What day is today?"

"Friday."

"Monday morning…" He raised his eyes to meet hers. "He's going to strike again Monday morning."

"So this guy takes weekends off?" Munch asked.

"In a manner of speaking. We didn't get a body this morning, and we won't tomorrow or Sunday."

Stabler got up from his chair, throwing his hands up in the air. "This is ridiculous. We need to find this scrub and we're not going to do it standing here listening to you make guesses about what he's going to do and when he'll do it!"

Logan slowly got to his feet. "I'll take one of Goren's hunches over anyone else's educated guesses any day of the week."

Fin stepped over to stand by Stabler and face down Logan. "You want to start something?"

"No, he doesn't," Barek stood and stepped away from her chair. "No one is going to start anything."

Goren had turned to lean back against the table. He crossed his arms and looked from Stabler and Fin to Logan and Barek. "This isn't getting us anywhere."

"You started it," Stabler accused.

"What did I do?"

Logan shook his head. "Same thing you always do. You started thinking."

Goren looked at him, but there was no malice in Logan's face or tone, just a teasing grin. "Try it sometime," he retorted, his own mouth twitching at its corners. Logan just laughed and went back to his chair.

Munch reached toward his partner and gave him a shove. "Give him a chance, Fin, unless you have any stunning insights to offer. Anything he has to say can't hurt."

Fin gave him an annoyed glare and went back to his chair. Stabler also sat back down, his face a dark frown. Goren glanced at Munch, then turned back to the photos on the table behind him. Eames smiled gratefully at Munch and Logan for defusing a situation that could have gotten ugly, making a mental note to thank Logan for sticking up for her partner. Hoping to deflect attention from Goren to give him time to think and make the connections he was heading toward, she said, "How about we take a coffee break?"

"Great idea," Benson agreed, grabbing her partner's arm and leading him from the room.

The other detectives left the room, too, in search of coffee or a breath of fresh air. Eames remained, watching Goren focusing on the pictures again. "What is it, Bobby?"

"I, uh, I'm sorry about that."

"You didn't do anything. What happened? Something jumpstarted that brain of yours."

He sighed and started pacing. "I…I've been stuck on this cologne thing. I haven't been able to get past the memories of my…my dad. He went…out during the week, to…to be with…whoever. Weekends he stayed home, mostly..." He hesitated, not sure why he was telling her this. "This guy…he doesn't realize he's left the scent behind. When he…" he closed his eyes and rubbed his hands on his face, but nothing was going to shake the images in his mind. He trusted his partner to know what he was referring to. "He transferred the scent from his clothes to theirs. Something happened…during his trysts…to trigger this rage…to make him seek out little girls. But he didn't strike this morning. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday…I'll wager something happened Monday….something that sent him on this…rampage."

As always, she listened, absorbing his theory and processing it with the rest of the information they had on the case. Softly, she said, "But your dad never went this far."

He closed his eyes. He didn't say anymore. After a minute, he went back to his chair and sat down, leaning forward and looking at his hands. She walked over to him and squatted in front of him, resting her hands on his. "How about some coffee?"

He met her eyes. "Not quite strong enough," he said very softly. "But I guess it'll do."

"We'll talk later, ok?" He nodded. She let her fingers lightly caress his scruffy cheek. "I'll be right back."

She left the room and he buried his face in his hands.

Logan was the first one back. He sat in his chair and looked at Goren. "You don't look so hot. You ok?"

"I guess."

"You are not very popular around here."

Goren looked at him. "I'm not very popular anyplace in the department, Logan."

"You scare people, Goren. And cops don't like being scared, especially by one of their own. Why the hell do you think they talk about you? If they can explain you, you're not so scary."

"Do I scare you?"

Logan smiled. "Not any more."

Goren laughed. Logan lightly punched his shoulder as the door opened and Stabler came in with Benson. He studied the two Major Case detectives warily as he walked to his chair. There seemed to be a genuine camaraderie between the two men, and Stabler wondered at that. Of course, Logan was a loose cannon himself. Maybe that was their common bond.

Eames came into the room next with Barek. They walked over to their squadmates and Eames handed Goren a cup of coffee. He smiled at her, and Stabler saw a great deal of affection in that smile. He also noticed how her hand lingered on his just a little bit longer than necessary when she handed him the coffee. Eames, by all accounts, was a good solid cop, from a long background of decorated officers. He'd never heard a bad word said about her. But no one understood how she remained partners with Goren.

He watched his own partner walk over to the small group and start talking. He felt his gut clench when Goren looked up at her and smiled. Olivia had become very fond of Goren, and that bothered him. She wanted him to give the senior detective a chance, and he agreed to try. He couldn't explain his dislike…perhaps he was unsettled by the rumors of the man's brilliance, knowing that with that genius came a degree of instability. And yet…he saw no instability in Goren. He watched as he seemed to joke easily with Logan, Barek, Benson and Eames. And he noticed how the big detective's eyes frequently sought out Eames.

Munch and Fin came into the room and sat near him. "Is Liv bonding with the Major Case crew?" Fin asked.

"I can think of worse people to bond with," Munch commented.

"Can we get back to work now?" Stabler asked, annoyed. "We have three homicides to solve."