Shifting the paper bag to her left arm, Eames pulled out the card key and opened the door. The room was dark. As she walked past the bathroom door, a warm moist draft told her he'd taken another shower. To relax, she was certain. He hadn't said a word the whole way back from the cemetery. She knew he would talk when he was ready, so she left him alone. Now she wondered if he'd misinterpreted her silence. She'd had it up to her eyeballs with him misinterpreting her.

She half expected him not to be in the room, but he was. He'd laid down on the bed, probably to think, but he'd drifted off, succumbing to both physical and emotional exhaustion. He had tried not to disturb her last night, but he was restless and the little sleep he had gotten had been plagued by nightmares. Ultimately, he'd gotten up and spent the rest of the night shifting between pacing and staring out the window.

She set down the paper bag and the plastic sack with their lunch in it. Crossing over to the bed, she smiled softly and fingered his damp curls. He didn't move. Lightly kissing his temple, she returned to the desk and emptied the contents of both bags. The two styrofoam take-out containers each held a burger, fries and cole slaw. They were the biggest burgers she'd ever seen...it seems they actually did grow things bigger in Texas. So she would be good for lunch and dinner. There was no way Goren would eat one-and-a-half of those burgers. He wasn't Mike Logan. Turning to the paper sack, she pulled out a six-pack of cola, a bottle of rum and two four-packs of the dark German beer he liked. She put the beer and the cola in the small refrigerator and turned back to the lunches. Setting out the two paper plates she'd gotten from the restaurant, she unpacked the containers. She heard him stir, so she wasn't surprised when he came up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. "Feel better?" she asked.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not talking to you. You, uh, you wanted to..."

"It's fine, Bobby. I was just giving you your space, like I always do."

His arms tightened, pulling her back against his body. "I don't need space right now," he whispered into her ear.

"When you're ready to talk, you'll talk. I'm not going to push it unless you need me to, and right now, you don't."

"I don't want to talk, either."

She smiled. He was craving contact. His fingers played with the hem of her shirt and she rested her hands over them. "Eat first," she said. "You didn't eat very well yesterday."

He kissed her neck again and sighed. He looked at the burger on the plate she handed him. "They serve one pound burgers?"

"Apparently."

He laughed softly. "Don't let Logan come down here. He'll never leave."

She laughed with him. "There's beer in the fridge if you want one, or cola if you'd rather."

Opening the fridge, he pulled out a cola and a beer, handing her the cola as he sat beside her on the bed. Popping the can open, she took a drink, then quietly asked, "How long before you get back to normal?"

"You want me to withdraw?"

"No, not at all. But I don't want you on top of me all the time either."

"Sorry. If you want, you can get on top..."

She choked on a mouthful of cole slaw. "That's not what I meant and you know it," she managed after a minute. She turned her head to look at him, thrilled to see the playful gleam in his eye. She had missed it. "But if you want me on top..."

He laughed. "After lunch..." he promised.

Smiling, she turned to the task of tackling the monster burger on her plate. It was a relief to see him finally relaxing. Maybe he was approaching his equlibrium again. She hated having him all over the emotional map. He was enough to handle when his moods were stable. Maybe now that they had buried Emily, and they had the closure of saying good-bye, his irrational side would realize that she was still here and let go of its fears of losing her. She understood him; she really did. She had come to realize a long time ago how empty her life would be without her big partner in it. She had come to rely on him more than she realized at first. Initially, it had all been about the quirky, unstable genius and the attachment to her he had formed, once he came to realize she might actually stay. She was his anchor, the grounding force for his incredible intellect. She was the lifeline that pulled him back to reality when he got too far into the dark, too far into the minds of the criminals they pursued. It took awhile for her to realize that it wasn't all about him. She knew from the early days of their partnership that he overshadowed her, that he always would. His size, the brilliance of his mind, the unsettling manner of his interrogation technique, his investigative style, particularly at the scene of a homicide...everything about him overshadowed her diminutive size and understated manner. But the first time he got too much in her face and she'd taken him down a few notches, she knew it was give and take. He challenged her to keep up with him, and she relished the race. He pulled the most obscure details from crime scenes as well as from the encyclopedic knowledge he stored in that brain of his, and he left it to her to help him put the puzzle together. He provided the pieces while she gave him the picture to guide the assembly of those pieces. When the shadows got too dark for her, when a case was particularly disturbing or hit her too close to home, she found she could always go to him and he knew just what to say, just what to do, to help her through it. As in tune with him as she was, it was nice to realize he was just as in tune with her. They had developed a true partnership.

She took both plates when they were done and wrapped the half a burger she knew she wouldn't finish, putting it in the refrigerator. He laid back on the bed and quietly watched her. Returning his scrutiny, she leaned against the wall beside the window. "Are you all right, Bobby?"

He slowly nodded. "I think so."

"Have you finally realized I'm not Emily?"

He sighed heavily. "I never thought you were. I just...I formed an attachment to her that was based on you, Eames. When she died, it was...hard for me to let you out of my sight because if I ever lost you..." He shuddered involuntarily. "It's not something I ever wanted to think about, but now I've been forced to and...it hasn't been easy. I don't want to smother you. Just tell me to back off."

"I always knew that was an option, but I don't want to contribute to your insecurities. It's been kind of nice having you close. But I want you back to your usual self. I'm used to that."

"I'll get there. Give me a little time."

"Take as much time as you need, as long as I know everything is heading back to normal."

He smiled at her. "Normal...I think you're the only one who would ever consider me normal."

She laughed. "Normal is a relative term. There is a normal you, Bobby. And that's the you I love most."

He smiled warmly. "I love you, too, Eames."

She crossed the room and let him take her into his arms. He'd made her a promise before lunch...and she held him to it.

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

He set the danish and the coffee on her desk and sat down at his. She'd be here soon. Last night had been the first night since Emily's death ten days ago that they had slept separately at their own apartments. At first he had been restless and had missed her, but if he was going to get back to normal and be able to function properly again within his own life, he had to be able to let her go. It took half the night for him to settle down, but he had. It was his first big hurdle; tonight would be easier.

He set the files and papers from his inbox in front of him and pulled out a sealed envelope. He smiled as he read the nearly illegible scrawl. Ok, I've left you alone for the past few months to get things worked out and you seem to be back your regular self now. It's about damn time. I let your partner drag my ass into the wilderness to find you, against my will, I might add. I ended up with 64 mosquito bites--yes, I counted 'em--and two infections from scratching them. Today is Friday. You and I are going out tonight and you are paying for dinner and the drinks all damn night. Logan.

He laughed to himself and slipped the paper back into its envelope, sliding it into the top drawer of his desk. He turned and looked toward Logan's desk, where he was leaning back in his chair, grinning. Goren nodded his head and, satisfied, Logan returned to his paperwork.

Turning back to his desk, Goren pulled out a file folder from the stack in front of him and opened it, studying the coroner's report and letting his mind immerse itself in the details. He didn't see or hear her when she came in, but a light touch on the back of his shoulder as she leaned over to look at the report brought him crashing back to reality.

"You're getting back into your groove," she whispered in his ear.

"I'm getting close."

"That's good to hear. How'd you sleep last night?"

"Not terribly. At least I slept. Um, Logan and I are going out tonight."

"Good." She was genuinely glad to hear that. She pulled back from her place at his shoulder and looked him over. "You look pretty good today. Not like I expected."

"You underestimate me, Eames."

"Often." She reached over and readjusted the report so she could see it better. "Now we have a case to solve," she said with a small smile.

A smile played at the corners of his mouth in return and he addressed his attention back to the report. He slid the autopsy pictures over the surface of his desk and pointed at one line in the report. "Look at this."

She reached for one of the pictures and turned it. "Oh, thanks for the coffee and danish."

"Sure."

After a few minutes of discussing the particular finding he had pointed out, he said, very softly, so that only she would hear him, "I love you, Eames." Then he shifted to another photo without missing a beat and tapped another line in the report. "I wasn't expecting this."

She glanced at him, then back at the report. "I didn't expect it, either," she answered. Then, dropping her volume for his ears only, she replied, "I love you, too."

The subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth was his only reaction, but it told her he heard and he was glad that she said it. She doubted he would ever say something like that again in these surroundings and neither would she. But he'd tossed this one at her, to see how she would respond, and she'd given him the response he'd needed. Now he knew. It didn't matter where they were or what they were doing; he knew. If she never said it again, it wouldn't matter, because he knew that she loved him. But she would say it, and so would he. And neither would ever let the other doubt that it was true, ever again.


A/N: Sorry this took so long to get finished. It just wasn't coming easily for some reason. Hope you enjoyed it :-)