You can kiss me in the moonlight
On the rooftop under the sky
You can kiss me with the windows open
While the rain comes pouring inside
Kiss me in sweet slow motion
Let's let every thing slide
You got me floating, you got me flying

It's the way you love me
It's a feeling like this
It's centrifugal motion
It's perpetual bliss

It's that pivotal moment
It's subliminal
This kiss, this kiss (It's Criminal)
This kiss, this kiss

--------This Kiss, by Faith Hill

A/N: This whole story began as an inspiration from this exerpt of this song, then I added the casefile and went from there...
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Eames stopped at a red light after leaving the high school where Jeffrey Cressmoor was a student. "I don't miss that."

"You don't?"

"Don't tell me you liked high school."

"Some aspects of it, I did. And...well, it wasn't home."

She looked at him, but he'd looked away, out the window. That was about all she was going to get out of him on the subject. It wasn't home... It was enough; it spoke volumes to her, and she understood. She accelerated through the intersection on the green. "So what do you think?"

"About?"

"Jeff and his friends."

"Like father, like son."

There had been no doubt which boy was Jeffrey Cressmoor. The resemblance to his father was striking, particularly when he opened his mouth. He had his father's condescending attitude, although his tone had changed when they started talking about Kelly. Maybe he was jealous of his little sister, but it was clear that he loved her, too.

Eames had taken charge of the questioning and Goren had stood back, letting her. He tossed out a few questions, but overall, he had just watched and let her handle the boys. Jeffrey, in particular, was less hostile toward her. The major had always been, too, until she told him off yesterday. But it was Goren's opinion that Cressmoor would get over it. In his experience, it was impossible to stay mad at Eames.

He opened his binder and looked at the list Jeffrey had given them. He knew a handful of Gloria's friends, and he had no idea where she had gone. He'd thought she was still in the hospital. So he provided the names of the four friends of hers he knew and the neighborhoods he thought they lived in, but he wasn't sure. They would have to do the detective work, he'd smirked.

They'd had better interviews, Goren reflected. But not this week. At least this one hadn't been totally pointless. They now had a few names to investigate, and he felt better about that. And Jeff had seemed genuinely angry when he realized they were thinking that Gloria may have known their attacker, and she had not said one word about it. Who was she protecting, when Kelly was laying in the ICU after being badly beaten...by someone Gloria knew? No...that just was not right, and Goren agreed with that.

Cressmoor was going to throw a major fit about this development, and Goren made up his mind not to tell him. If Deakins wanted him to know, he could tell him. And he was not going to let Eames do it, either. No, he still felt guilty about turning the major over to her yesterday and getting her in trouble. He wasn't going to let that happen again. The last thing he ever wanted was to cause his partner any more grief than he already did. He tried steering his thoughts in another direction, but they lingered stubbornly on her.

He jumped when her fingers brushed across his temple. Looking around, he was surprised to see they were back in the parking garage at 1 PP. "Welcome back. Penny for your thoughts?" she said, teasing.

He slid out of the car, shoved his hand in his pocket and tossed a quarter to her. "Here's a quarter not to ask," he replied with a small smile.

She laughed, shoving her shoulder into him as she met him near the front bumper of the car. His hand rested briefly against her back before she stepped away, out of range, and he let her go. His eyes strayed over her as she walked ahead of him and he softly sighed. Too bad dreams had a habit of not coming true, and it was not often he thought that.

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Goren sat at his desk, staring into space, tapping his pen on the pad in front of him. A balled-up piece of paper bounced off his chest, not for the first time that afternoon, and he looked at his partner, who asked, "What is with you this afternoon?"

He smiled and tossed the paper back at her. "Nothing, other than I keep getting beaned with paper balls."

She laughed and said, "Looks like another late day. We have two more interviews to get through before we can go home. What do you want to do for dinner?"

"I've got it covered."

"Great. What are we having?"

"It's a surprise."

"Bobby..."

"Trust me," he cajoled.

"'Said the spider to the fly.'"

"Are you calling me a spider, Eames?"

"No. Just a pest. It better be good."

He turned his attention back to the form in front of him with a smile.

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She stepped out of the conference room fifteen minutes after the last witness left. What an idiot! She shook her head in disbelief...some witness. She glanced at the time...8:48. Looking around the squad room, she was a little annoyed to find no sign of her partner. He was supposed to have gone to get dinner while she finished up with the idiot witness who couldn't even remember being in the park on Sunday. Taking the witness list from Goren's desk, she scanned the comments they had been jotting down as reminders of which witnesses might prove helpful if they ever got an accurate description of the assailant. She found this guy's name and beside it she printed not even. Moron. She wondered which poison was the guy's choice to fry his brain cells as she dropped into her chair to wait for Goren. Whichever it was, there weren't too many viable cells left in the man's grey matter.

Geez, it had been a long week; this had better be a damn good dinner. She was starving. She pulled a blank form from her desk and put it down in front of her...Hello? What's this? She picked up a small envelope that had been set in the center of her desk, where she would be sure to see it. She was surprised by the weight of it. Opening it, she dumped out a key. A key? To what? Sliding out a piece of folded paper, she opened it, recognizing her partner's printing: Eames, Take the south stairwell up to the roof. This key will unlock the roof access door on the 15th floor. I have something to show you.

Something to show her? On the roof? She sighed impatiently. She was exhausted and starving, and he wanted to play games? What was wrong with him? She sighed...ah, well, it never took much effort to humor Bobby. She headed for the south stairwell. This better be worth four flights of stairs.

She pushed the door open and stepped out onto the roof. It was breezy and cool, but fairly mild for late March. She took a deep breath of the fresh spring air; it was actually a really nice night. The area was lit by the subdued glow of the city, very pleasant. Stepping away from the stairwell, she let the door close behind her. When she heard it click, she hoped it had not locked, or if it did, that the key in her pocket would unlock it. If she got stuck on the roof, with or without him, she was going to throttle him. She got a sudden image of a practical joke and imagined how quickly it would get around the building if she got stuck up here all night, but she quickly quashed the thought. This was Bobby Goren. Although he was not above practical jokes, his pranks were at least a step or two above locking someone on the roof all night. There were other yahoos in the squad whose preferred jokelines ran in that direction...and she would knock the crap out of every single one of them if she had to call her partner to get her off the roof. But no...that was Bobby's handwriting...

"Eames." She turned toward his voice. He motioned to her. "Come over here."

He had removed his suit jacket and tie and his sleeves were rolled up not quite to his elbows. The top two buttons of his shirt were open and he looked...casual...and, cursing herself for thinking it, sexy. She followed him to the southeast corner of the building, where a card table had been set with a white linen tablecloth and dinner for two. Somehow--she wasn't sure how--he had slipped behind her and now he spoke softly, his breath caressing her ear and drawing an involuntary shiver from her. "I thought you'd like something a little different from our usual take-out."

She turned her head to look over her shoulder at him, caught off guard by how close he stood to her. She caught a whiff of his cologne on the breeze and for a moment, she could think of nothing to do except look at him. Recovering, she asked, "Why the roof?"

"It's a nice night and it's quiet here. No one will bother us."

His hand came to rest against the small of her back, and he guided her to the table where he pulled out her chair and waited for her to sit. She was used to his manners and his unpredictability, but this time he had outdone himself. He took the cover from the dish in the center of the table and leaned over to switch on the stereo he'd set up nearby.

Smiling at the delight on her face, he eased himself into the chair opposite her. She met his eyes. "Chicken cacciatore?" He simply nodded as he spooned the meal onto her plate and then his own. "Bobby, how did you do this?"

He shrugged, eyes glowing. "Eat your dinner, Eames, before it gets cold."

She took a bite. "Where did you get this?"

"You like it?"

"It's amazing. Where'd you go? Emilio's?"

"Um, no. My place."

"You...you made this?"

"Why so surprised? You know I can cook. It took a little longer but I thought you deserved a good meal."

"So you took the time and effort to do all this...for me?"

A modest shrug. "Like I said, I thought you deserved it...especially after I dumped the major on you yesterday."

"Bobby..." Words failed her. "Thank you."

She was rewarded with a smile, one of the rare smiles he seemed to reserve only for her. The meal proceeded mostly in companionable silence as she savored the food and he savored her company.

The music was a nice touch, her favorite soft rock station. How did he get this so perfect? Why did it still surprise her that he paid attention to the small details, especially considering how extra attentive he'd been since she'd had the baby? He always noticed the details. She knew she was important to him, so why should it surprise her that he knew her favorite food, her favorite station and exactly how to set things up so that she would like it? The roof...who would ever have thought of having dinner on the roof of the police headquarters building? Bobby would. Thoughtful, considerate, unconventional...always thinking outside the box.

She could feel herself unwinding, relaxing and thoroughly enjoying being with him. Reaching toward her, he tentatively ran two fingers along the back of her hand. Silently, she caught her breath, amazed at how a simple touch could send such a tremor through her body. Again, she wondered when things between them had changed, when his touch had become electrifying to her. She looked up to meet his eyes. When had those dark eyes begun causing her to tremble inside? Softly, hesitantly, he said, "I, um...would you like to, uh, dance with me?"

Dance? With him? Oh, God...the last time she'd danced with him, at the squad Christmas party three months ago, her insides had turned to jelly. She had hesitated even to attend, but Bobby had talked her into it. Only a month post-partum, she hadn't yet gotten her body back, and she was uncertain, but he was persistent and she had finally agreed. She'd danced with half the guys in the squad before he had claimed her. Her voice failed at the mere thought of being in his arms again...painfully close...and she had no control over her head as it nodded agreement to his tentative request. She didn't quite understand his nervousness. He was a great dancer. Could it be he knew how much she loved to dance with him?

He stood up and held out his hand, which she took as she stepped into his arms. His left hand held hers as his right slid around to rest lightly against her side. The radio played softly in the background as he began to lead her in cadence with the quiet song.

I see the questions in your eyes
I know what's weighing on your mind
You can be sure I know my part
Cause I stand beside you through the years
You'll only cry those happy tears
And though I make mistakes
I'll never break your heart

She lost track entirely of the world around her and wondered if the same thing happened to him. She let him lead her where he would; she'd have let him lead her over the side of the building had he been so inclined. Her trust in him was complete.

And I swear by the moon
And the stars in the sky I'll be there
I swear like the shadow that's by your side I'll be there

With each step, she unconsciously inched closer to him. Slowly, he drew her hand in, toward their bodies, keyed in to her response to him. His hand slid its way from her side, along her back as she drew closer. Gently, on an impulse, he pressed her hand to his lips and she caught her breath on a sigh.

For better or worse
Till death do us part
I'll love you with every beat of my heart
And I swear

She closed her eyes, leaning in to rest her head against his chest. She felt his cheek come to rest against her head as his right hand moved in a gentle caress against the skin of her back, where her shirt didn't quite meet the top of her slacks.

I'll give you every thing I can
I'll build your dreams with these two hands
We'll hang some memories on the wall
And when (and when) just the two of us are there
You won't have to ask if I still care
Cause as the time turns the page
My love won't age at all

She sighed softly, content to stay right there, for as long as he would let her. Forever would be nice.

He let his lips brush across her head when she sighed. He enjoyed the feel of her soft skin under his fingers, the scent of gardenia permeating her hair, the gentle pressure of her head against his chest. For the second time in as many days, he felt like he was in Heaven. He closed his hand more firmly over hers and pressed it into his shoulder. Having her this close, in his arms, against his body, was almost too much for him. He never wanted to let her go. Here she was safe from everything they faced on a daily basis; here he could take care of her because she would let him. Here, and only here, she was his.

She had no idea how much time had passed or how many songs had been played, but the words of the next one struck her and the only thing that came to mind was the answer she would give him if he asked. It was yes.

I'll always remember the song they were playin'
The first time we danced and I knew
As we swayed to the music and held to each other
I fell in love with you

Could I have this dance for the rest of my life
Would you be my partner in bed every night
When we're together it feels so right
Could I have this dance for the rest of my life

I'll always remember that magic moment
When I held you close to me
As we moved together, I knew forever
You're all I'll ever need.

Following his lead, she gently moved her hand to caress his side and his back through the fabric of his shirt. When her fingers traced a gentle line just above his belt, he drew an uneven breath. She moved half a step closer, bringing their bodies into full contact. She slowly moved her body against his and he groaned. Softly, he whispered, "God...you're killing me, Eames."

Opening her eyes, she turned her face up toward his, meeting his dark eyes, which glowed with a desire he could no longer hide. He moved his face closer, lightly touching his lips to hers. When she didn't pull away, he deepened the kiss, releasing her hand to slide his along her neck and under her hair to cradle her head. Willingly, she parted her lips, allowing his tongue entry.

She lost herself in the depths of the kiss, and her mind quit working entirely, never wanting this moment to end. Time stood still for both of them. She shifted her body, pressing it more firmly into his, confirming that he was in the same state that she was.

With a soft gasp, he broke the kiss and stepped back, away from her. His breathing was ragged and he looked uncertain, embarrassed. "I, uh..." his voice was a hoarse whisper. "I really...better leave."

Before she could recover her senses and object, he was halfway across the roof, and then he was gone.

A/N: I Swear by All-4-One and Could I Have This Dance by Anne Murray. Both songs fit so well and since I couldn't choose between them, I encorporated both...