- You have a microphone...

At the words that the suspect had just shouted to Eames, Goren rushed out of his hideout, and ran like a madman towards the house.

There was no time to lose...

Eames was in danger.

She didn't have her service weapon...

And the suspect had managed to find her microphone.

Goren couldn't forget the bodies they'd found during their investigations...

At the crime scenes.

The bodies had been violently slaughtered...

Leaving deep marks in their throats.

The image of Eames on the ground, his throat slit, bathed in his soil, made him accelerate his pace.

No, it wouldn't.

The suspect forcibly removed the microphone that was on Eames, threw it to the ground.

Her face red with fury, she took out his knife.

Eames stepped back, her blood running cold with fear.

She looked from every corner of the living room if she could find something to defend herself...

Or simply to protect herself...

But nothing...

There was nothing that could be used as a weapon.

She was trapped.

Eames never thought the suspect would find her microphone...

And more importantly...

That she would discover the deception.

Damn it...

She was really in a bad way.

If she had known...

She would have listened to Goren.

Goren...

Her heart sank as she thought of him.

He had told her that it wasn't safe.

And that he didn't feel it.

He had tried to change her mind...

But she had stuck to her guns.

For once...

Maybe Eames should have listened to Goren.

The suspect stopped at her height, snapping Eames out of his thoughts, she raised the knife, and with an evil smile on her lips, lowered it.

Name of God…

Why does Eames always to her head...

Why didn't Eames listen to her for once.

It was always the same.

This stubbornness she had.

Goren had had a hunch...

And his instinct was never wrong.

But she had told him that he was worrying for nothing.

For nothing...

Then she was in danger.

He was right again.

Why didn't he stop her by any means...

Even if it meant handcuffing her...

And lock her up in her house.

Goren would have found an excuse for Eames' absence.

But no...

He had let her go on a suicide mission.

My God...

How stupid he had been.

In addition...

Knowing her, she would have gone anyway...

Even against his advice.

And if he had dared to handcuff her...

And locked her up...

As soon as Eames would have been free...

He would have been six feet under.

But Eames was all alone...

With nothing to protect her.

True, he was not far from where the operation was taking place.

But he knew very well that a few seconds were enough...

Arrived at the front door of the house...

Goren quickly drew his service weapon.

- No...

At Eames' cry, Gorens' heart stopped.

A violent anguish seized him.

No...

It couldn't be possible.

Anything but this.

He kicked the door open and rushed inside, gun in hand.

He had hardly taken a few steps when he stopped, as if forbidden, in front of the scene that was unfolding before his eyes.

Eames was there...

The hand on his throat...

In his hand the bloody penknife.

And at his feet...

Lying in her own blood was the body of the suspect.

Goren put his gun away, and rushed to Alex's side.

- Alex...

Eames looked up, still in shock, to see a worried-looking Goren walking towards her.

Was she dreaming...

Was Goren really there.

And that he was coming towards her.

Goren stopped at Eames' level, and put his hand on hers that was covering her throat.

He spread his fingers, keeping them preciously in his own, and looked at the wound, analyzing it carefully if it was not too deep.

But no...

It was just a small scratch on his throat.

Goren breathed in relief.

Eames was fine.

And that's all that mattered.

- Bobby... Eames looked up into Goren's face with his big hazel eyes glowing with concern. I was so scared...

At her words, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her against him, held her tightly strong in his arms.

- My Alex...

Her heart pounding with relief, and love for this man, she laid her little head against his chest, savoring the softness of his arms.

My God...

And to think he could have lost her little Eames...

He rested his chin on her little blonde head, holding her preciously against him.

Captain Lipschitz, followed by his men, entered the house, and when he arrived in the living room, he stopped dead in his tracks, as if forbidden, in front of the scene that was unfolding before his eyes.

Was he dreaming...

It could not be possible.

And yet...

He was not blind.

So what he had seen the last time...

Between Goren and Eames in the interrogation room.

The two of them kissing.

What he saw at that moment...

Only confirmed to him what he had already understood.

Goren and Eames were not only partners.

His two there...

Were actually sleeping together.

And the way Goren hugged Eames.

As if she was his property.

And Eames resting her head quietly against him.

Yes...

He was right.

His two there...

It was the spitting image of Lorenzo and Rita.

Damn it...

He was going to have to act and fast.

But first...

They had to separate them now.

Because the officers did not miss anything of the scene...

And he knew very well that rumors went very fast in a police station.

He didn't want to get into trouble with the higher-ups again.

Especially since he wasn't really on good terms with them.

- Goren... He coughed. Eames...

At Lipschitz's little cough, Goren reluctantly moved away from Eames, but stayed close to her, under the disapproving gaze of the captain.

Damn it...

He had completely forgotten that Captain Lipschitz was about to disembark with the other officers.

But he had been got so scared...

That he had thought of nothing else but to hold Eames in his arms.

In the future...

He should be more careful.

And if Lipschitz ever asked him for an explanation...

He would simply tell him...

that for him...

Eames was like a little sister.

And that he had been just got afraid of losing her

That's why he had taken her in his arms.

And that there was nothing more.

That excuse...

Should work.

Or at least he hoped it would.