The paperwork, for the moment, was done. Everything was in Carver's hands now. Goren was leaning back in his chair, lost in thought. John Doe was still refusing to reveal his true identity, but it didn't really matter. Whatever his name was, he was going to prison. He heard the phone ring, half-listening as his partner answered it. Her side of the conversation failed to capture his interest and he returned to his thoughts.

"Bobby?"

He turned his eyes toward her. "What?"

"That was Carver. They took the plea."

"That's not a surprise."

"So the case is closed."

"For us, it is." He sighed. "I have to take King home tomorrow. Would you like to come along?"

"Yes, I would. I've grown kind of attached to him."

He smiled. "That's easy to do. You want to drive?"

"That's a stupid question. When do you want me to pick you up?"

"Whenever. I can call Barry when we're on the way. The boys are anxious to have their dog back. We just wanted to make sure he was well-healed so they won't be worried about him." He reached down and stroked the dog's head. "He's ready for them."

She smiled. "Are you ready to give him back?"

"That's not an issue. This has been hard on them and they miss their dog."

Logan and Barek approached them. "Hey," Logan said. "We're going down to Delaney's for dinner. You guys want to join us?"

As always, Goren deferred to his partner, who got to her feet and said, "Sure. We're done here. We'll meet you down there after we run King over to Bobby's."

Logan grinned. "Too bad he can't join us. This was his case, too."

Goren looked at Eames with a smile. "Don't worry about King. He's not being neglected at all."

She gave him a playful shove toward the elevators. "Get going, Goren. I'm hungry and you're buying."

He laughed. "Whatever you say, Eames."

------------------------------------------------------------

After dinner, they headed for the back room and grabbed a pool table. Goren slipped off his sling after arguing with Eames that it wasn't going to do any harm for him to use his arm to prop up a pool cue. After all, he didn't sleep with the sling on. She relented, but he knew she'd be watching him like a hawk.

Halfway through the first game, another couple approached the table. "Anyone playing winners?"

Goren looked up from his shot at Stabler and Benson. He smiled, took his shot and straightened up. "How's your shoulder?" he asked Stabler.

"Fine. We heard you had surgery on that arm."

"The bullet lodged in the bone and they had to get it out."

Eames added, "He's supposed to be wearing a sling..."

He looked at her. "It's fine, Eames. They said I could start weaning off it after two weeks and it'll be two weeks on Tuesday."

She shook her head. "Today is Friday, Goren. That's not even a week and a half."

Smiling, Benson sat down on a stool near Barek as Eames moved to the table to take her shot. "Elliot was supposed to wear one for a day or so because his was a little deeper than a flesh wound. I think he wore it for an hour and a half."

"It's annoying," he protested.

Goren snorted. "Tell me about it."

Eames gave him a look she knew he'd be able to interpret before she sank her ball and headed around the table to take a drink of her rum and coke. Logan grumbled, "Have you been practicing, Eames?"

She smiled at him and nudged Goren. "Your shot."

Logan looked at Stabler. "Looks like you'll be playing them."

Goren stood up as his ball perched on the edge of the pocket. "Your shot, Mike."

Logan looked at the table. "What the hell, Goren..." His best shot was in the pocket blocked by Goren's ball. "Damn it! You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Goren smiled at him and leaned back against the wall near Eames. "Why would I do that, Mike?"

"You did! Geez..."

Eames looked at her partner and he winked at her. She smiled and rested her hand on his arm. They watched Logan miss his shot and point his stick at Goren. "I'll get you for that."

"Quit bellyaching, Logan," Barek said with a grin. "You just can't accept that he's a better player than you are."

Benson and Stabler leaned back and watched the easy, friendly banter among the Major Case detectives. Benson gently nudged Barek. "Are they always like this?"

"Yes. Mike feels like he has to compete with Bobby in everything. They keep us entertained."

They laughed. Eames stepped up to the table and sank the ball that was perched over the corner pocket. "Eight ball in the side pocket," she called.

Logan groaned when the black ball slipped smoothly into the pocket. "He's been giving you pointers," he accused.

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Well, now Barek and I have to get you both drunk if we want to win a game once in awhile." He looked at Benson and Stabler. "You get to play them. Good luck."

Eames stepped up to him and poked him in the side. "Stop whining," she teased.

He laughed. "I lost; I'm entitled to whine."

She racked the balls while Benson and Stabler chose their cue sticks. Stepping back, she said, "You guys can break."

It was a close game, but once again, Eames sank the eight ball. Logan shook his head. "I told you," he chuckled. "You really want a fun time, play for shots."

Stabler grinned. "I'm up for it. Liv?"

"Sure."

Everyone agreed but Goren. He shook his head. "I'm not stupid. I still need pain medicine to sleep. I'll play, but I'm not taking shots."

Eames walked past him and squeezed his hand. "You can take me home then."

He squeezed back and smiled, leaning close to her ear. "Anytime, Eames."

She laughed and leaned her head briefly against his. "Ok," she said to the group. "Who's breaking?"