Sunday came far too quickly for Goren's liking. He began getting more restless as the day drew closer, which both Eames and Logan understood. Eames, too, was feeling anxious for it to be over. She hated what this was doing to her partner. Now she was getting ready to leave for the midtown bar and Ricky was upset. "I don't like this."

"You don't have to. But it's my job."

"You don't work vice any more."

"This isn't about busting a pimp, Ricky. It's about catching a murderer who is trying to frame my partner. I know that doesn't matter to you, but it does to me, and it's my job, so get over it. I won't be home tonight. We'll be tied up with paperwork."

"Alex..."

She looked at him. "What is it?"

"Don't..." He stopped, thinking the better of telling her what to do, or in this case, what not to do. He didn't want her leaving on a bad note, not tonight. "Just be careful."

"I'll be fine, Ricky. We'll have backup and Bobby will be there. I'll see you tomorrow."

He watched her leave and he had to admit she was right. The fact that Goren would be there was reassuring. He didn't like the man, but he had no doubt he would do everything in his power to keep Alex safe. If anything happened to his wife, he would blame Goren, but he would also know that it would have been out of his control to prevent it. He left the bedroom and went into the kitchen. Taking a beer from the refrigerator, he went into the living room, put in a movie, and sat down on the couch, where he would end up spending the night.

Goren looked into his drink, liking this less and less as the evening wore on. It was getting late now, and Eames would be there soon. He had already talked to Gene, the bartender, and warned him to make certain to give him nothing alcoholic tonight, no matter what he ordered. He knew how to act intoxicated, and so did Alex. What they were getting her into troubled him deeply, but he found himself disturbed on a very different level by something she had said to him earlier on the phone. You realize you're going to have to treat me the way you did Nancy and Cindy. I am not going to be Eames tonight. I'll be Susie.

The way she intoned the name of her cover had gotten him to laugh, for the first time in days.

Treat her like Nancy and Cindy... Oh, he could do that, no problem. And he'd have to, he knew. But just the thought of it was nearly enough to overwhelm him. He wondered just what level of Hell this was that he had stepped into and exactly what he had done to deserve being there.

When someone slid onto the stool beside him, he didn't react. He never did at first. He always let her take the first step, showing interest. He took it from there. "Hey there, big fella," came a familiar voice masked by a distinctly unfamiliar tone. "Wanna buy a thirsty girl a drink?"

He turned his head, not fully able to hide his surprise. She was a brunette, and he tried hard to hide his amusement. "I hate wigs," she muttered under her breath. "Rum and coke," she said with a sexy smile that made his breath catch in his throat.

He gave Gene a subtle signal, and Eames got a straight coke. She smiled at Gene and gave him a wink. He smiled back. The distraction gave Goren a chance to appraise her more fully. A short black cocktail dress and stiletto heels that brought her head past the level of his shoulder made his heart race. She had strong, sexy calves that he had never fully appreciated before. He wondered how well those legs would serve her in a situation like this, and the thought was chased away by his conscience. She's married, dumbass. Married AND pregnant with his child...You're playacting; don't forget that...you really are not going to screw this date...damn...

Her hand came to rest on his, breaking into his thoughts and drawing his gaze from her legs. She smiled at him, stepping fully into her undercover role, as always, but he saw the amusement in her eyes. "I'm Susie," she purred. "I'm a broker over on Wall Street. It feels so good to get out of those stuffy suits and have some fun." She slammed the coke and signaled for another. "How about you, big guy?"

Fully aware of the wires they were wearing, he played it safe. "I'm Bobby. I, uh, I work for the city."

"Ooh," she squealed, and he smiled, enchanted. "Let me guess. Ummmm, City Hall?"

"Guess again."

"Uh, a district attorney?"

His brow furrowed. "Do I look like a lawyer?"

He heard a stifled snort from nearby and he looked at Logan. "A DA...that's a good one," he laughed.

"Go away, Logan. We're talking."

Logan held up his hands. "Try to behave yourself, all right?"

He headed toward the far corner of the bar and slid into a booth where Barek sat with the two other members of the back up team. "Sorry," his voice sounded in Goren's ear over the small earpiece. "I couldn't resist."

Goren coughed, hiding his reply in his cough. Logan laughed. Then Goren turned back to the woman beside him and smiled. "Forgive my friend. He's just nosy. No, I'm not a lawyer. Want to guess again?"

She propped her head on her hand, elbow on the bar. "Give me a clue," she smiled.

"I do wear a suit to work."

She reached out and fondled his tie. "A suit for work and for play?"

He watched her hands and couldn't stop himself from wishing it wasn't his tie she was doing that to. "S-sometimes. I didn't bother going home to change tonight."

"So these are your work duds? Don't tell me you're a number cruncher."

"I'm not."

She pouted and he found that irresistible. "Come on, Bobby," she cooed. "How about a real clue?"

He mimicked her posture and met her eyes. She found herself caught up in the dark depths of his gaze in spite of herself. She was supposed to be attracted to him, and God help her, she was. "I carry a badge," he said softly.

Her face lit up. "Really? Let me see it. Please..."

He smiled. God, she's good at this game. They'd had many undercover roles, but none quite like this. Their married couple act was always playful and comfortable. This was...different. "I don't know..." he started.

She reached out and played with the lapel of his jacket. "Oh, come on," she pleaded.

"See if you can find it," he challenged playfully.

She knew very well that it was clipped to his belt, but if she went right to it, that would be suspicious. And she was supposed to be flirting with him...so, she started by patting at his pockets. He caught his breath, giving her a warning look that she smiled at. He had offered the challenge. He forced a laugh, made it seem relaxed, and moved his jacket to reveal the gold shield on his belt. She cooed over it and took it from his belt. "A detective? How exciting. You carry a gun?"

"Yes, but you can't play with that."

"Oh, come on...how can we have any fun then?"

He slid his eyes closed and she laughed, running her hand over his thigh. All right, Eames, he thought. Two can play at this game.

He brought his fingers into contact with her knee, letting them trace her thigh and he heard her almost inaudible gasp. He leaned closer, caressing fingers playing along her leg. "But I do have handcuffs," he murmured huskily near her ear.

All the while they had kept up the pretense of drinking, and their flirting was knocked up a notch. He turned fully toward her and she let her fingers play over his chest and along his upper thighs as she cooed about the benefits of being a cop, how much she loved a man who could really take control.

And then, fully into the role, she leaned forward and kissed him, a full, passionate kiss. Her tongue slid into his mouth. His hands came to rest on her sides and he returned the kiss without even thinking about it. Against his mouth, she said, "My place is nearby."

"Let's go," he murmured.

Sliding off their stools, he dropped two twenties on the bar and followed her out the door.

As they walked down the street, she walked unsteadily, which wasn't hard to do on three-inch heels. "I'm such a lightweight," she giggled, leaning heavily on him.

For his part, he couldn't draw his attention away from her. His conscience had long since fallen silent. It's probably in shock, he mused. He knew he was. Then Logan's voice sounded softly in his ear. "Very convincing. I thought you were going to take her right there."

"Shut up," he muttered.

A soft chuckle. "I need to go find myself a date now," he laughed.

"This is serious, Logan," Eames said softly.

"Don't you go turning off your wires in that apartment," he warned.

"Pervert," Eames responded.

Goren buried his face in her hair and laughed softly. "I think you shocked him," he murmured into her ear.

She laughed, tightening the arm she had draped around his waist. It wasn't far to the decoy apartment, and he followed her up the stairs. She pulled out her keys, unlocked the door and turned into his arms, kissing him again. He backed her through the door and kicked it closed.

Once the door was closed, she stepped from his arms and he leaned against the wall, eyes closed. He'd brought this on himself; now every minute drew her closer to danger, and he had to stop thinking about that or he'd drive himself nuts. After a few minutes, he stepped away from the wall and headed to the bedroom, where he turned the light on and drew the curtains. Then he turned off the light and returned to the living room, where she had kicked off her shoes and tossed the wig on the coffee table. She shook out her hair and sat on the couch. He sat beside her. "Now what?" she asked.

"Now we wait."

"What time do you usually leave?"

"Around four."

"Do you do any sleeping?"

He was quiet for a moment. "You don't want the details of my love life, Eames," he muttered, knowing how much he didn't want the details of hers.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to intrude."

"No intrusion. You just don't. Trust me. You've never asked; don't start now."

She was quiet. "You know what it's going to be like in the squad room tomorrow."

He cringed. "I know. But we were just doing what we had to do."

"And you didn't enjoy any of it," she stated, her tone light and teasing. She knew damn well he had enjoyed it, and she had as well. "Do you think the perp was watching?"

"Yes."

"And you think we convinced him?"

Logan's voice came over the wire. "Shit, you convinced me."

Goren smiled and shrugged. The truth of the matter was that they had been very convincing. The perp would have bought it hook, line and sinker. They had done their job with their usual thorough efficiency. Now they had to wait, to follow his routine. Pulling a deck of cards from his pocket, he said, "You like rummy."

She smiled. "Sounds like a plan." She held out her hand. "I'll deal first."

Returning her smile, he placed the deck in her hands.

Playing cards had helped to pass the time, but what made the time breeze by for him was the simple fact that he spent it with her.

She gathered the cards together, slid them into their box and handed them to him. It was almost four. He slipped them into his pocket and finished his cola. Getting up, he took both glasses into the kitchen and set them in the sink. He was reluctant to leave because once he was gone, she was in danger. He wished they knew more about this perp. Maybe he'd feel better, though he doubted it.

He returned to the living room, surprised to find the wig back on her head. He sat beside her, laughing softly. She grinned. "You never told me how you like me as a brunette."

"Why did you wear that thing?"

"Stick with the pattern. The last two were brunettes. That seems to be your preference."

"Coincidence, Eames. I have no preference."

That wasn't entirely true. He had a definite preference, but she was beyond his reach. He turned away.

She saw the change in him and sensed his withdrawal. Turning off her wire, she reached under his shirt to turn off his. "Are you all right?" she asked.

He nodded. "Fine."

"Something is bothering you."

"I don't like this. I hate putting you in this situation."

"It's part of the job."

"I know. That doesn't mean I have to like it."

"You know we did what we had to do back in the bar."

He looked at her. "I know."

Then he shook his head. No, he preferred her natural look. Reaching toward her, he slid the wig from her head. "That's better," he said softly.

He tossed the dark wig onto the far end of the couch. Smiling softly, he smoothed down her hair. He found himself unable to resist letting his fingers toy with her stray locks. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to simply enjoy it. Studying her face and seeing contented pleasure, he gave in to an overwhelming impulse, leaning over and lightly kissing her neck below her ear. She gasped, which made him shudder and lightly nip her earlobe. She turned her head and he found her mouth, kissing her deeply.

She responded, sliding her fingers into his hair and parting her lips to welcome him. He groaned softly half a second before he came to his senses and suddenly pulled away, jumping up from the couch. He crossed the room and leaned against the wall. She saw him tremble and she left him alone, leaning her head back as she caught her breath. And she fought back tears. She was a fool...she had long known that she loved him, but she had never thrown passion into the mix. She had loved him with the heart of a friend. In August, she had realized that it was more than that. On his birthday, she realized that passion was a very real part of the love she felt for him. She had tried to find that with Ricky, and it just wasn't there. At one time she thought it had been, but she realized too late that whatever it had been, it had not been true passion. It was nothing like this. And the loss of this was something she felt deeply and mourned with all her heart. "Bobby?"

He turned toward her, his eyes guarded. But she knew him well, and before he could say anything, she spoke. "Please, don't apologize. It was...good. I'm the one who should be sorry, and I am."

"For what?"

She was not apologizing for anything she did. She was apologizing for what she could not do. Too late she realized her mistake, and now she was trapped by it. She had never even thought about cheating on Joe during her first marriage. And now that she realized her heart, she couldn't imagine loving anyone but Bobby. If he would allow it, she could see herself stepping into an affair with him. But there was no chance of that; he would never go for it. So things were the way they were, and he really did deserve better. He deserved more than she could give him. "Don't worry about it. Just accept my apology. Please."

He looked at his watch. "I'd better go. T-turn your wire back on, Eames. And I do accept it, for whatever you feel you need to be sorry for." He snapped his wire back on. Crossing to the couch, he leaned down and gave her a final, soft kiss. "Please, be careful."

He went to the door and turned to look at her. He was relieved to see her weapon in her hand. He left the apartment. "I'm leaving," he muttered into the wire.

"I told you not to turn the damn wire off," Logan snapped.

"Why, Mike? Afraid you missed something?"

"Did I?"

"Leave him alone, Mike," came Eames' soft voice before Goren could reply to that.

"Remember what you promised, Logan," Goren warned as he headed down the stairs.

"Don't worry, man. We'll keep her safe. You know where the subway is?"

"Yes."

Silence fell over the wires as Goren exited the building. He headed away from the apartment toward the subway, unable to shake the feeling that he was leaving his partner behind for the wolves.