Four months later...

Eames watched her partner pacing in the waiting area at the gate. They were waiting for the boarding announcment for the flight to Texas. He'd been restless and out of sorts all day, but she understood why. Bobby hated to say good-bye. Loss was one thing he never handled well. But this was one loss he did not have to handle alone, one burden whose weight he could share...if he chose to.

The pre-boarding call went out and he stopped by the windows to watch the activity surrounding the plane outside. She walked up behind him, hesitating for a moment before stepping to his side. Reaching out, she unbuttoned his jacket so she could slide her arm around his waist beneath it. His overcoat was draped over his other arm. She rested her head against him and looked out the window at the light dusting of snow that covered the airfield. She felt him press his lips against her head. Softly, he murmured, "I love you."

That was unexpected. She looked up at him. He brought his hand up, lightly running two fingers along her jaw. "I...I'm sorry if I've been ignoring you."

"You've been preoccupied."

"No excuse."

She smiled. "It's okay, Bobby. I understand."

"Thank you."

She rested her head against his chest. "I love you, too," she said.

Another kiss on her head and his arm tightened around her. When the call to board came over the loudspeaker, she stepped from his side, turning to face him. Rebuttoning his jacket, she straightened his tie and smiled at him. He kissed her lightly and they crossed the lounge to board their plane.

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Eames was at a loss. She knew he was hurting, but she didn't know what she could do to help him. As restless as he'd been all night as well as at the gate waiting to board, now he was quiet. Very quiet. She didn't like it when he was so still. It was never a good thing...not when it followed such periods of intense activity. All night long, he'd paced his way around the apartment. She wanted to keep him company, but he had turned into himself and she had not had much success in drawing him out. He was a little better at the boarding gate; at least he'd talked to her. She had been dreading this day, though she knew it was going to come. She hated anything that caused her gentle partner pain. The fact that it caused her pain, too, was secondary.

She watched him stare out the window, knowing he was not seeing the cloud bank that stretched beyond the plane as far as they could see. She gently fingered the hair that curled at the back of his neck. She could feel his body tremble and he turned toward her. She smiled. "Nervous?"

"No."

"Then what?"

He rested his head against the back of his seat. "I don't know."

"You can't be surprised. You've been talking to her..."

He shook his head. "Please, Eames...I don't want to talk about it right now."

"You've been saying that for the last day and a half. We have to talk about it."

"Why? What is that going to solve?"

"Well, for one thing, it will help me get a grasp on what's going on in that head of yours because right now, I don't have the foggiest notion. And for another, maybe it will help me come to terms with it myself. Do you think this is easy for me? Did it occur to you that maybe I need to talk about it?"

He frowned. How could he have been so selfish, thinking only of how he felt and not considering that she might be having trouble with the same emotions? "I...I'm sorry. I...didn't..."

He sighed softly and closed his eyes. When she touched his cheek, he opened them and said,"That was selfish of me, and I'm sorry. If you want to talk, then we should."

She placed a hand over his. "I think we need to, before we get there." She could feel his apprehension and she squeezed his hand. "Bobby, you know she's been getting sicker. You had to hear it in her voice. I know I did."

He nodded. "I heard it."

"So you knew this day was coming...and soon."

Again he nodded. "But...knowing doesn't make it any easier when it happens."

"How often have you been talking to her?"

"About twice a week, I guess. We, uh, didn't usually talk for long. I didn't know what to say. I just...wanted to know how she was feeling." He looked at her. "What about you?"

"Usually on Mondays and Thursdays, and then on the weekends. We talked...alot."

He looked uncomfortable. "About what?"

"A little bit of everything. She was worried about you. She didn't realize what she'd done when she waited so long to tell you she was sick. She thought you might hold it against her. She was relieved that you still took the time to talk to her, that you would accept her calls and even call her on your own."

"I like her. I...I'm not a rude person. I...understand that it was hard for her...to tell me. I don't carry grudges...not against friends."

"I told her that. You've been plenty pissed at me for things, but you've never even tried to cut me out of your life."

"I wouldn't do that. I-I couldn't."

"I know. But she didn't. She loves you, Bobby, but she doesn't know you well."

He sighed. She leaned closer and rested her head on his shoulder, holding his hand in both of hers. He reached over with his other hand and lightly stroked her hair, pressing his lips against her head. "Are you sure you don't think I was an ass to either of you?"

"For the hundredth time, Goren, you were never an ass. Are you trying to piss me off again? Because I don't particularly like being mad at you."

"No, no, I don't like it either."

"If you want to play tackle, just say so. If you piss me off, I'm likely to hurt you, even if I don't intend to."

"Hurt me? I don't..."

"You don't think I could hurt you? Think again, mister. You've seen me take suspects down."

He leaned his head forward to catch her eyes. "You would do that?"

"If I was mad enough, I might."

"Thanks for the warning. I'll remember that."

She closed the distance between her face and his and lightly kissed him. "Relax. I'm not out to hurt you."

She returned her head to his arm as he whispered, "I know."

She was quiet for a few moments. "How are you going to handle this?"

"I don't know."

"Did she tell you anything about what's happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"Cancer is very hard on the body, Bobby...all that pain. And she hasn't had any treatment for it. She's lost a lot of weight."

"From where? There wasn't much to her to start with."

She sighed. "You need to try to prepare yourself. She will not look the same. She's a ghost of her former self, literally."

He frowned. He'd never lost anyone to cancer. Of course he knew all about it, the way it ravaged the body, the pain it caused. But he had no first-hand experience with it. He was half-tempted to stay at the hotel, but he wouldn't do that to Eames. He turned his face back toward the window, and she let him withdraw. But her head stayed resting against his arm and she kept her grip on his hand. She was so tired, after spending most of the night watching him pace from room to room. She sighed softly and let herself sleep, resting comfortably against him.

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When she woke, it took a moment for her to realize where she was. The armrest between them had been folded up, and a blanket had been laid over her. Her head was resting against his left arm and her upper body was across his lap. His right arm was draped over her waist. She rolled toward him, looking up at his face. He had also dozed off, she was glad to see. She snuggled back into his lap and returned to sleep.

He woke her gently. She looked up at him. "We're landing," he said softly.

She nodded, reluctantly leaving the safety and comfort of his lap. Adjusting her seat and fastening her seatbelt, she looked at him. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine." He closed his hand over hers. As long as he had her, there was nothing he couldn't handle. Leaning his forehead against the glass, he watched as Austin got closer and closer. He held firmly to her hand and sighed.

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They retrieved their luggage, rented a car and headed toward the downtown area of the city. On the recommendation of a hospice volunteer she'd talked to, Eames had reserved them a room on Town Lake. She knew how much Bobby loved to be near the water. She thought it might offer him some solace.

Looking out the window over the lake, he pressed his head against the glass, watching as day faded to twilight. He sighed softly when her arms slid around his waist and she rested her head against his back. "Did...did you call?"

"Yes. She's comfortable. I told them we'd be there in the morning."

He nodded, resting his hands on hers. "Um, is she...well, how is she?"

"She had some broth for dinner, but she doesn't have much strength left, not even to talk on the phone." She lightly stroked his abdomen. "Are you hungry?"

He wasn't really, but she wouldn't have asked if she didn't want to eat. "Let's go get something."

She squeezed his waist and stepped away from him. He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, waited for her to get her jacket and followed her from the room.

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After dinner, at her suggestion, they walked along the lake. Even though it was December, it was almost fifty degrees, as opposed to the thirty degree, snowyweather they'd left in New York. He had not said much during the meal and, even now, they walked in silence. She glanced up at him. He was looking out toward the water, deep in thought. She slid her hand lightly into his. Absently, he closed his fingers around hers, but his eyes remained on the water.

Gently, she tugged on his hand to get his attention. He looked at her. She squeezed his hand. "What are you thinking about?"

"Tomorrow."

"How do you feel about it?"

"Apprehensive. I...uh, I don't know what to expect."

"I don't either, but this is still Emily."

"'A ghost of her former self.'"

"She's dying, Bobby."

He closed his eyes for a moment. "I know," he said quietly.

"And how do you feel about that?"

He stopped. She turned to face him as he said, "How do I feel about it? What kind of question is that?"

"It's a question I want an honest answer to."

"Look, I'm tired..."

"Oh, no you don't. You are not doing this to me again. I want to know how you feel."

He pulled away from her and crossed the grass to the water's edge. He squatted down by the water and closed his eyes. She remained on the path and watched him. Time, she would give him. All night if he wanted to sit by the water until dawn. But she wanted an answer from him. So she waited.

Finally, he stood up and returned to the path. He pulled her into his arms and held her. Quietly, he said, "I think this is going to be incredibly hard for me. I know I really screwed up, Alex, but when I look at her, I see you...and I think this is going to tear me up. I know she's not you. I know that I'll still be able to hold you, and be with you, and love you...but I still can't help comparing her to you. God help me, but that's how I was able to get past losing you." His arms tightened as he pulled her closer. "Forgive me for being a bastard, but I can't see her without seeing you." He rested his head on hers and took an uneven breath, but he didn't say any more. Several minutes passed before he finally said, "It will hurt for me to see her...suffering. She's a good woman and I like her. I get that. But seeing what I see in her..." He shook his head. "That I'd never survive."

She remained in his arms, with her head resting on his chest, listening to his heart beat through his shirt and suit jacket. She had no idea that was how he felt. She thought he'd gotten over the feeling that he'd used Emily in order to deal with losing her, and she guessed he had. But in the process of sorting through that, he'd come to realize that he had substituted Emily for her...to keep his sanity. "Bobby..." she started, but she couldn't continue. She didn't know what to say.

"Are you gonna knock me into the lake?"

She laughed softly. "No."

"You wanted to know what I was feeling. So I told you."

"You're right. I asked." She slowly shook her head. "I don't even know what to tell you, Goren. Let's just go to bed and see what happens tomorrow."

He kissed her head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She pulled back from his embrace, slipped her hand into his and they started back toward the hotel. Her partner was a complicated man, there was no doubt, but if she tried to figure out what was going through his head tonight, she'd go to bed with a headache. Maybe someday she wouldn't need to ask anymore...but she hoped that day would never come. Then he would become predictable...and that was something she never wanted Goren to be.