They walked in silence for some time until Alex finally spoke up. "So, how long have you been doing this again?"

"This is my 4th mission in 15 years. The first and the 3rd were with Valdez, and the 2nd was the recovery of the Smithson Crypt."

"Someone stole the Smithson Crypt!" she shouted. Her voice echoed throughout the long corridor.

"Shh- yeah."

"But I would have seen it in the papers or something! That thing is huge! There's no way it could go missing and no one notice! How did someone steal it to begin with! My God!"

"It's not the actual crypt itself," he said, almost annoyed. "It's what inside that they stole."

"They stole some guys ashes?"

"Along with a ring that contained a map…"

"A map to what?"

"Uh, Eames. I really can't discuss it," he said, in a tone that clearly said 'please, just drop it.'

"At least tell me what it has to do with- I don't need specifics," she pleaded.

He sighed and then said, "The Library of Congress- and that's all I'll say," he said, his voice rising in defense.

"So, if Marjorie wasn't your female nemesis then, who was?"

"I'm not sure."

He brushed a spider web out of the way, running his fingers along the dusty stone like a kid walking along a fence.

"And you slept with her!" she suddenly shouted.

"What? No! What would make you think that?"

"You slept with all the other girls you've been involved with along the way! Why should I assume any different?"

"I didn't really spend any time with her. I barely saw her once or twice- I didn't even know who I was dealing with, and we never caught them, I only just managed to recover the ring, and so I didn't even know her name. Whoever she was…she was very good," he finished quietly.

Alex let out a low, slow whistle. "So," she continued sheepishly, stepping over a dead rodent that should couldn't identify, "Those other women…did you love them?"

"Listen to you, you sound like a teenager," he said, laughing.

"It's a tough adjustment from knowing the eccentric Bobby Goren who couldn't keep a girl past one date to knowing Bobby Goren the rather stupid ladies man."

"I suppose it is a big difference," he conceded.

"You certainly fell right back into the routine quick enough," she snarked.

He coughed, but didn't respond.

They walked in silence, Alex following closely behind and peering around his shoulder, but not holding onto him. Her small way of punishing him for being so different from the Bobby Goren she thought she knew. What would happen now when she had fallen in love with Bobby Goren her partner, not Bobby Goren the easily manipulated ladies man?

She shook her head in disbelief, and then collided with something soft. It was her partner. He had stopped when they reached the end of the corridor and Alex in her reverie had not noticed and walked straight into him.

She looked at the door in front of them. I was a rich wood, covered in what was probably hundreds of year's worth of dust and cob webs. It had an old, tarnished brass handle. Bobby reached out, wiped the dust and cobwebs off the handle, turned it and pushed. It creaked open and the sliver of light got wider as the threshold opened. He quickly dropped the torch to the ground and snuffed it, then pulled his gun out of the back pocket of his pants.

Reverting to his years of police work, he quickly opened the door the rest of the way, brandishing his weapon and surveying the room.

Two guys turned and quickly went for their guns, but Bobby shot them both in the chest before they could even get a grip on their guns. Their limp bodies fell to the floor. Alex gasped in horror. "You shot them! You didn't even try to talk to them! You just shot them!"

"It's a little different here, Eames." He finished stepping inside and began to survey the room.

The room was mostly empty. It looked like it didn't get regular use. There were old papers scattered about in disarray on tables and chairs, and there didn't seem to be any way out, either.

"Odd," Alex remarked, looking about for a door. "How the hell do we get out of here?"

"Eames, when you were in the room with the revolving book case, what was on the other side of the book case?"

"A fireplace. What else? It was classic, Bobby…Oh…" And then she recognized the fireplace opposite them.

"Do you have a gun?" He asked her as they inched towards the fireplace.

She shook her head.

"Grab one of theirs," he said motioning towards the dead bodies lying on the floor. "And if I tell you to shoot, you do it."

She nodded, they stepped onto the stone mantle of the fireplace, Bobby pulled up on the wooden mantle above the fireplace, and the wall began to rotate.

The wall slowly creaked around and the dressing room came into view. Marjorie, who was sitting at her dressing table suddenly turned around as the wall clicked into place.

She was completely alone, half dressed in a silk bathrobe, and her long, thick dirty-blonde hair was draping over he shoulders in waves. She had a look of shock and fear on her face, but she soon replaced it with an evil smile.

"Bobby. It's been so long. I see you've managed to find your partner. And she looks ravaged already," she said, looking Eames up and down. "You really do need to learn to keep in your pants. One of these days I'm going to have to cut it off." She sounded almost innocent.

Both Bobby and Alex had their guns drawn on her. Bobby was inching towards her. Alex's eyes darted to the Sapphire in the stand behind Marjorie.

"There won't be a next time Marjorie. This ends now," he said, the authority in his voice unmistakable.

"Oh, I'm sure of it. You're getting too old to keep chasing me around, and quite frankly I'm getting a little too old to keep living in the jungle just for the sake of a rock-" she turned around and admired the Sapphire. "But it is pretty isn't it?"

"It's gorgeous," Alex said, breaking her silence. He gun was still pointed at Marjorie.

She got up and walked towards the Sapphire. "Stay put, honey," Alex said.

"I'm not going to run, sweetie. I was just going to give it to you anyway. Like I said. I'm sick of this. It's so hard to find a good henchman, and I'd rather not be on the run for the rest of my life over anything less worthy than the Hope Diamond…or a map, for instance."

"What map?" Bobby asked, but Alex felt like she already knew the answer.

"Don't be stupid Bobby. You know exactly which one I'm talking about. The secret vault in the Library of Congress… the manuscripts… the artwork…" her voice had lost its innocence and was menacing now.

"So, it was you- the second time," Alex stated, inching closer.

"Yes. It was me."

"Why-" Bobby began, but Marjorie cut him off.

"Was that one so different?" she finished. He nodded. "I actually had some work to get done that time. It was too dangerous. Too… sensitive." She gazed into his eyes intently. Bobby stared back at her, and Alex's head titled to right in thought as she gazed at Marjorie inquisitively.

As a dawning comprehension came over her, her eyes softened. "You-?"

Marjorie nodded in reply without making eye contact, and then turned to face Alex with a resigned look. Her smile had been replaced by a look of defeat. "My dear detective, would you do the honors?"

"With pleasure," Alex said angrily, and she pulled the trigger.