Eames opened her apartment door and dropped her keys on the table near the television. Heading into the kitchen, she brewed herself a cup of tea and sat on the couch with it. Looking at the time, she flipped on the television. She wanted to give Bobby enough time to get home before she called him to say good night. When she went on maternity leave four months ago, she had taken to calling him before she went to bed, knowing he would miss her and wanting to feel connected, wanting him to feel connected, to know she was thinking of him and to reassure him that she cared. After returning to duty, she continued the ritual. She really enjoyed their talks and she got the impression he did, too.

Finishing her tea, she turned the television off and headed into the kitchen to put her cup in the sink. Making certain everything was locked up, she turned off the lights and headed down the hall to bedroom. By the time she crawled into bed, it was almost 11:30. She snuggled into her pillows and picked up the phone from the table beside her, dialing the number she knew by heart. Goren.

She smiled. She couldn't help it. For a long time now, seeing him, hearing his voice, even just thinking about him often brought a smile to her face. "How do you think it went today?"

A frustrated sigh. I think the major is right. We're spinning our wheels with these witnesses.

"We have to talk to them."

I know, I know. But we're not getting anywhere.

She shared his frustration; she always did. "Something will turn up. Have faith."

He snorted. Right. Um, before we dig in tomorrow, I'd like to go back up to the hospital, to see Kelly.

Why did he want to put himself through that again? "I don't know, Bobby..."

They called, Eames. She's awake.

"Is she going to be all right?"

They seem to think so. They said we could talk to her as long as one of her parents is there. I talked to Mrs. Cressmoor and she said we can come by to talk to them at nine. The major will be at work. She promised she wouldn't say a word to him.

"If he finds out, he's going to blast himself back to the squad room, sputtering and squawking."

She wasn't sure if he sighed or growled, or maybe it was some odd cross between the two. I am not going to ease up on any part of this investigation to cater to Cressmoor's temper. Being a friend of the chief's doesn't make him a cop and it doesn't give him any say in how we run this investigation.

"Calm down, Bobby. I know."

She recognized the next sound he made as another frustrated sigh. I'm sorry, Eames. I-I'm tired.

"So go to bed. I'll see you in the morning. You want me to bring the coffee?"

I'll get it. Sleep well. Good night, Eames.

"Good night, Bobby."

She set the phone in its cradle and pulled the blankets up. She understood his frustration and his anger because she shared it. She wanted to catch this guy as badly as he did. The fact that their investigation was stalled was driving him nuts, and she got that, too. Bobby liked things to keep moving, progressing them toward their goal, and when that forward momentum stopped, he hit a brick wall. It was her job to keep him from continuing to smack his head into it.

Turning onto her side, she snuggled into the bed and reflected how things seemed to have changed since she returned from maternity leave. It wasn't something she could put a finger on. He had been...ecstatic when she returned to work. Gradually she had received reports from different people about how he had coped during her absence. He had...managed, and that was the best anyone could say. He seemed more restless, less controlled. He skirted much closer to the edge than he ever did when she was around. Swinging a pipe at a suspect...she could only imagine what the hell he had been thinking then. And Bishop had been so intimidated by him she had no idea what to do, other than shield the man's daughter from her on-the-edge partner.

It was something Eames never thought about any more. She'd heard the rumors and she'd seen his instability when she first became his partner. But something had happened to him early in their partnership. Just what it was, she had no idea, but he had settled, become more grounded and stable. Her maternity leave had upset his equilibrium and he was finally getting it back. She had no idea just how important she had become to his stability. She just accepted him the way he was, keeping him on an even keel without ever even trying. But she couldn't place a finger on what had changed between them. It wasn't anything bad...not at all. Whatever it was, it had served to draw them closer. She noticed little things. He came a little closer now when he looked over her shoulder to study something, and the sensation of his warm breath over her skin sent a shiver coursing down her spine. He touched her more often, placing a hand against the small of her back when she passed through a doorway ahead of him, or letting his fingers brush across her skin whenever he got the chance. She couldn't remember when his touch had gone from warm and comforting to something laden with an energy that sent a charge coursing through her body. She didn't know what to make of it, and she had no idea if the same thing had happened to him. There was no way she could approach that subject with him either. She was certain he would freak and then there was no telling how long it would take for him to recover his balance. So she let things continue the way they were, escalating within her body and her subconscious, suppressing her responses until the time came, if it ever did, that she could turn them loose.

In the zone between sleep and wakefulness, where awareness faded and the mind could roam free, her thoughts always turned to him. Free from the inhibitions of conscious thought, she wondered what it might be like to love him. What kind of lover would he be? Tender or demanding? Playful or serious? Continuing on its journey down Speculation Lane as she fell deeper into sleep, she imagined a big bed. There was no way a man his size slept in a twin bed. In her dreams, she could feel gentle hands...the soft whisper of his breath across her skin...his mouth, warm and yielding on hers...and so her dreams continued...

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Patrice Cressmoor looked up from her book when the two detectives came into the cubicle where her daughter continued to recover from her assault. In the bed, the little girl looked at them warily. She remained apprehensive until her mother's hand came to rest on her arm. "Hello, detectives," Patrice said with a welcoming smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Cressmoor," Goren said quietly. "This is my partner, Detective Eames."

Patrice held her hand out to Eames. "Thank you both for coming. I appreciate your efforts." She turned to her little girl. "Kelly, these detectives are police officers. They are trying to find the man who hurt you so he can't hurt anyone else."

Eames smiled at her. "Hello, Kelly."

She eased closer to her mother and whispered, "Hi."

Eames looked at Goren and silently traded positions with him. He leaned forward a little and gave her a warm, innocent smile. "Hi, Kelly. I'm Bobby. Would it be okay if we talked to you for a few minutes?"

She studied him silently, but didn't move closer to her mother. He did notice that she had grabbed her mother's hand and was holding tightly onto it. "If you want to stop talking, all you have to do is tell me. Is that okay?"

She nodded slowly. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a quarter. "Watch," he said softly. He held the quarter up and made it disappear from his hand. "Where'd it go?"

She sat forward and looked at the bedsheets, but she didn't see it. Her eyes turned back to him, questioning. He reached his hand forward and pointed toward the side of her head. "Look there..."

Reaching slowly toward her, he brushed his hand past her ear and pulled it back, the quarter in his hand. Too intrigued to be frightened, she giggled. He handed her the quarter. She closed her hand around it and smiled, her unease fading. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, so as not to tower above her. "Is it okay if we talk now?"

She nodded. Folding his hands together, he rested them on his leg. She pointed toward his jacket. "Is that a real badge?"

With a smile, he slipped it off his jacket and held it out to her. "Yes, it is. Here. You can hold it while we talk, if you want to."

She took it from him and ran her fingers over it, smiling. He studied her bruised face and he felt another pang of guilt and regret that they weren't any closer to finding her assailant. In spite of her father's difficult behavior, this seemed to be a very sweet child. "Kelly? Can you tell me what happened to you in the park Sunday?"

The smile faded from her face and both hands clasped his badge tightly. "Gloria took me to play in the park. We had a ball and we played catch. Then a boy came over to play with us. My ball bounced into the bushes and I ran to get it. Gloria came, too, so I wouldn't get lost. And the boy came. When I went to pick up my ball, he hurt Gloria and then he hurt me."

"A boy? Not a man?"

"Well, he was bigger than me and Gloria, but not old like Daddy."

Goren suppressed a smirk. "Um, did he have any hair on his face?"

"You mean here?"

She rubbed her cheeks and her mouth. "Yes. A beard or a moustache."

She shook her head. "No. But he had glasses."

"Dark glasses? Like these?"

He pulled out his sunglasses. She shook her head. "No. Not dark." She pointed to the lenses. "They had no colors."

He slipped them back inside his jacket. "What about his hair, Kelly?"

"He had hair like hers." She pointed to Eames. "But it was longer. And he had a ponytail."

"Um, can you tell us what he was wearing?"

She looked thoughtful. "A white shirt and blue pants, like Mommy's."

Her mother was wearing jeans. "What kind of white shirt, honey? Like mine, or a t-shirt?"

"Like yours, but the buttons just came to here."

She leaned forward and touched the middle of his chest. He nodded. Jeans and a polo shirt...not sweats. "Okay. Do you remember anything else? Like his shoes?"

"He had sneakers on."

"That's very good, Kelly. You remembered a lot. Could you tell if Gloria knew this boy?"

She nodded. "She knew his name." She frowned, concentrating. "I don't remember it."

"But you're sure she knew him?"

She nodded again. He looked over his shoulder at Eames, who finished writing what the child had said and met his eyes. They each saw the anger in the other's gaze. Turning back to the little girl, all trace of anger gone from his expression, he said, "You did great, Kelly. You helped us alot. Thank you."

He stood up. She held his badge out to him. He took it and gently touched her cheek with a finger, giving her a smile. Sliding the badge back onto his jacket, he looked at Patrice. "Thank you for letting us talk to her, Mrs. Cressmoor. She really was a big help. We'll keep you informed of what we find."

"Thank you for coming by, detectives. And for your kindness."

Kelly was studying the quarter in her hand. Goren smiled. "If there's anything we can do, let us know. We'll be in touch."

They started toward the doorway. "Bobby?"

He turned back to look at the little girl. "Yes, Kelly?"

"Will you come see me again?"

She studied her for a moment before he nodded. "Sure we will. You rest so you can get better. Bye."

She waved and smiled at him. He smiled back then turned and followed his partner from the room. As they headed toward the elevators, Eames leaned toward him. "Another female admirer to add to your collection." She laughed at the flush that touched his cheeks. "Speaking of which, we probably ought to pay Gloria another visit."

He sighed and nodded. "Exactly what I was thinking."

The elevator doors opened and they waited for people to step off it. The last person off the car, however, was Hugo Cressmoor. He froze when he saw them. Goren and Eames both groaned softly. Cressmoor's face darkened. "What are you doing here?"

Quietly, Goren answered, "Our job, major."

"I don't appreciate you talking to my daughter alone."

Knowing he was close behind her, Eames slid a hand behind her back and touched Goren. She didn't care where her hand landed; it shut him up. "We weren't alone with her, major. Your wife was there."

"How did you know Kelly was awake?"

"Your wife called us. We got good information from Kelly and we are going to follow up on that now. So, please excuse us, major." She was not about to prolong the conversation or wait for the elevator to come back, so she headed down the hall. She turned the corner and looked back at her partner, instinctively knowing he would be behind her. "Shall we find another elevator or take the stairs up six flights?"

"Whatever you want to do, Eames."

His brain was still recovering from the shock of finding her hand resting against the top of his thigh a few moments ago. He got that she didn't want him in another verbal sparring match with Cressmoor, but his brain just about short-circuited when her hand pressed into his thigh like that. He had been totally focused on the major until she unexpectedly came into contact with him. He prayed she didn't hear him gasp, and he certainly hoped Cressmoor hadn't noticed. When she'd taken off down the hall, taking her hand with her, he found he could still function, though marginally. Following her was about all he was able to do right then. But he was recovering, and by the time they stopped outside Gloria's room, he was fine.

Eames knocked on the door and they stepped into the room. It was empty.