In which there is no talking whatsoever, Alex finds herself a bit out of her depth, and Bobby concedes defeat.


She paused in the semi-darkness. Despite her fatigue, and her strong desire to find someplace soft and warm to curl up for a few hours, something held her back. She stood in the doorway to Bobby's bedroom. Despite the early morning gloom, she could tell he was neat. Not meticulous, but neat. A pair of pants were draped over a chair, and the faint green LED glow of his alarm clock lit up a pile of books on his bedside table.

It was cool, a bit too cool for her tastes. The air smelled different, too. It smelled like clean sheets and ... a spicier, masculine scent. A very small voice in the back of her mind made a mental note that the funk she had noticed earlier must have come from Logan.

She heard him shift on the couch, and slipped further into his bedroom.

Now is not the time for second thoughts. There are drinks to be won.

Alex Eames never backed down from a bet. She very rarely lost them, too, and she sure as hell wasn't gonna let him win this one, or slip out of it. But this...

This was his bedroom. The most private part of his home. She slowly sat down awkwardly on the side of the bed. The covers were still thrown over, from when he'd gotten up. He must have been reading, she mused. Her eyes drooped, and she realized his bed was pretty comfortable, but then.. just about anything would be comfortable at this level of exhaustion. She eased her legs under the covers, and slipped down. Still, she lay stiff, feeling every inch the invader.

The soft pillow under her smelled like detergent and him. The bed was still warm. She snuggled lower, and slowly, she relaxed.


Bobby tried to shift. How was it possible a couch that was so comfortable to sit on could be so awful to sleep on? It felt like rocks were digging into his back and neck. He sighed, and grabbed the remote, turning on the tv. There were a lot of infomercials, and not much else. Some episode of Crime and Punishment, but it was a rerun from earlier in the week -- the same one he'd watched with Eames. Cinemax had some B grade soft core porn involving panthers, which gave him pause, but only in the way a driver pauses when passing a bad accident on the highway.

He turned off the tv, and lay back. It was slowly getting brighter, and that didn't help his sleeplessness. He glanced at the dim glow of the vcr clock. It blinked 5:03 at him. After an eternity, it began to blink 5:04.

Not even an hour. This was excruciating. He had to get a new couch. That was it. How many times had he offered his couch to unknowing victims? No wonder Eames had insisted on going back to her place. Her couch was actually tolerable. It was a love seat, but he could get a few hours of good sleep on it. He paused, and considered the entire situation.

Eames had won her bet, fair and square, but he couldn't just go in and wake her up. Surely she would be asleep by now. How had he gotten into this situation?

His eyes drooped. Despite his discomfort, he was exhausted. It had been an extremely long week. He got up to use the bathroom.

As he stepped out, he realized the door to his bedroom was still wide open. He glanced in, and saw Alex curled up on his side of the bed.


Despite the sun having long risen, the room was still shadowy. It was impossible to tell what time of day it was without consulting the clock. So, when Eames woke slightly to find herself snuggled up to the wide, warm chest of her partner, his heart beating steadily near her ear, she was not immediately alerted. What did wake her up was the strong arm that gently pulled her closer.

It was strange, she thought sleepily, she was not in love with this man. Nor could she entertain ideas of a physical nature. Yet.. this was truly intimate. Sex could be impersonal, violent, unemotional, or .. just plain bad. But ... this, this was something on another level altogether. His warm chest rose and fell hypnotically. This, she mused, was better than all the sex in the world. Well, a small voice insisted on pointing out, perhaps not all of it. But you couldn't do this with a stranger.


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