It was no surprise to her that he was there when she got there in the morning. Her customary coffee and danish were sitting on her desk and he had his nose buried in a file. She sat down and looked at him until he glanced up. He smiled a shy smile, and she had to smile back. "Good morning, Eames," he said quietly.

"Good morning. Sleep well?"

"Uh, no, not really. You?"

"I tried. I hope your good day wasn't spoiled."

"Of course not. I had a very good day."

"Followed by a very bad night?"

"No, not at all." He looked around. "Do you want to have lunch later? Maybe go someplace where we can talk?"

She nodded. "I think that would be a good idea." She nodded at the file in his hands. "What are you up to?"

"Just looking busy," he said with a grin. "I'm sure the captain will have a new case for us in the next day or so."

"No rest for the weary."

Deakins appeared in his office doorway. "Goren, Eames, in here now."

"Apparently not," he answered, following her to the captain's office.

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

"Ok, so lunch became dinner," Eames stretched as she stood up from her desk at quarter past six. They'd had barely enough time to grab a sandwich for lunch. "Where are you taking me?"

"Well, if you don't mind, we can stop at the store and I'll make you dinner. Your place or mine, it doesn't matter. Wherever you're comfortable."

She studied him. "What are you making?"

"Whatever you want."

"Can you do lemon chicken?"

"Sure."

"Let's go then. We'll eat at my place."

"Ok."

Her apartment was her safe zone, and if things got out of hand, she could always ask him to leave. She wasn't sure just how she felt, or how he felt, or what had happened in the car last night not to mention why she had let it happen in the first place. And yet...kissing him had felt...so damn good...God, how was she going to say no to him...and more importantly, did she want to?

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

She never thought grocery shopping could be fun, but with Bobby, it was. He left all the decisions up to her, and he had her laughing so hard she couldn't answer him. Breasts or thighs...she would never look at a chicken, or a woman, the same again. Lemon juice or real lemon...it's all in the squeezing... And never mind the vegetables...she'd finally settled on broccoli, because he didn't have a joke for that one...she was sure she wouldn't be able to eat string beans for a while...

Back out in the car, she waited behind the wheel while he put the bags in the back. She watched him as he got into the passenger seat. "I know they thought we were drunk or stoned."

He smiled. "Does it matter what anyone thinks?"

"It would if I shopped here regularly."

"Do you?"

"No."

"Ok, then."

She smiled and started the car. Never a dull moment...

She was quiet as she headed toward her apartment. His voice brought her from her thoughts, which were about him anyway. "Are you nervous?"

Damn the ease with which he could read her. "Why would I be nervous?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but changed his mind. "Never mind."

She glanced at him. "Are you?"

"Um, maybe a little..."

"Why?"

He thought carefully about his answer. "Because I don't want anything to be awkward between us."

"That's why we're going to talk." And only talk...

He nodded. "Would you, uh, still shoot me if I apologized?"

"Yes."

"Oh, ok."

"Are you really sorry?"

He looked at his hands. "No," he answered quietly.

"Neither am I."

That gave him more to think about and he fell into silence. She was relieved. She didn't know what to tell him, and she didn't want to have this discussion unless she could clearly see his eyes. His eyes would tell her how he felt, even if his words fumbled at his reply.

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

He liked to work alone in the kitchen, and she liked to tease him. Constant trips past him to the sink or the fridge were starting to get on his nerves. He was stirring the lemon juice with a couple of spices when she leaned against his arm to see what he was doing. "Eames..."

"What's in there with the lemon?"

"You're going to have to taste it to find out."

She stuck her finger in the bowl and ran. This time he chased her, but he stopped at the couch. She was sitting on the far end, licking the juice off her finger and trying hard to ignore him and not burst out laughing. "Stay out of the kitchen," he said softly.

She looked up at him through her hair, clearly seeing the smile in his eyes. "Or what?" she replied.

He pulled out his handcuffs and held them out on his finger. She laughed. "You wouldn't dare."

"You want to bet on that?"

She watched him head back to the kitchen, slipping the handcuffs back in his pocket. She sat quietly debating whether or not to call his bluff. Leaning over the back of the couch, she looked into the kitchen. His sleeves were rolled up and his tie was off, folded and tucked into his jacket pocket. He'd been careful to hang up his jacket. This wasn't a date...but it could have been. He 'd relaxed and she was glad to see a ready smile on his face. And she was pleased with his response to her innocent teasing. Of course, threatening her with handcuffs...she sat back down on the couch and tried to force her mind off the path it had been heading down. It wasn't working though...

He basted the chicken with the juice mix and slid it into the oven. What the hell was he going to do? Her teasing was all in fun, but she had him so damn worked up he didn't know what to do. Of course what he wanted to do was so off limits he was tempted to go home. She didn't mean to do this to him...but that didn't change the fact that she did. He leaned over the sink and took a few deep breaths, trying to focus his mind elsewhere, someplace safe. But it wasn't working...