A/N: Look - practically short by my standards, lol. Once again - I am loving the reviews- keep them up.

Disclaimer: L&O:CI and its characters are property of NBC and Dick Wolfe. I'm just playing.

"Are you honestly telling me – telling me that not only do I have a whacko who's running around killing members of the NYPD – but that you two have come to the conclusion it's an inside job?! And you want me to do what with this? Have a coronary?" She frowned, watching Ross rise up in anger from his desk, his face a slight purplish color. I am so killing Bobby for making me do this.

"No sir. I expect you to contact the DA so we can subpoena the IAB's files on the victims. We need to know if there's a connection-"

"Two victims does not a connection make, Detective Eames. You don't even know if the first victim was reported to the IAB-" He spoke rapidly, his hands on his hips and his eyes slightly wild. All in all, Alex decided that Ross pissed looked slightly like a possessed chia pet.

"And we won't know unless we get those files. What would you have us do, Captain? Wait for a third cop to die to get the connection?! Goren and I are right- and if we wait on those files and another cop dies because of it-" She had stood up now too, glaring at the Captain and standing toe to toe with him on the cheap gray carpet. She was actually somewhat enjoying this – it was nice to be able to glare straight instead of straight up.

"Fine! Fine – but this is out of my hands. You want those records, convince Carver your damn self! Now get out!" He bellowed, pointing at the door. She knew better than to press, and took her escape when offered, but his voice halted her at the door. "One other thing Eames-" Ross bit out shortly. "If you ever speak to me in that tone again-"

"Yes sir." She spoke dully before yanking the door open with as much force as she could muster and stepping outside of it, clicking it silently back into place. Striding across to her desk, she smacked the top of it twice as she passed over to the coat rack behind it. Bobby glanced up at the noise and waited for her explanation. Throwing him his coat, she pulled her own on. "Ross is pissed- told us to go to Carver ourselves." He stood, nodding and throwing his coat over himself as they walked. It billowed out around them like a cape, and she smirked slightly. "Oh and Batman? Robin's out of this one. I talked to Ross- you can handle Carver."

"Eames!" He stopped slightly, glaring at her and opening and shutting his mouth a few times. "I can't do that- you know Carver dislikes me-"

"Holy rusted metal Batman! Really?!" She gasped in mock surprise, before shoving him into the elevator forcefully and jabbing the button once he was trapped inside.

"Eames.." his voice was suspiciously whine like and she stared ahead, not daring to look at him in case he used any of those half grins he knew she was weak against.

"No. It's your turn."

He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Well- what am I supposed to say?"

"What else? Tell him your bat signal went off."

The chuckle rolled throughout the room, smooth and deep – like honey. Ron Carver was many things- most of them not so nice- but he had a voice like sin. She sat back, sinking more deeply into the chair she currently occupied, and watched as Bobby paced around Carver like a caged tiger, his voice grumbling and pointing out the evidence- such as it was. Carver just leaned against his big mahogany desk, arms crossed over his chest and an expression of disbelief written on his face.

"You want me to take that to a judge? Get sealed department files for you? Do I look like a magician to you, detective?" He stared at Goren , peering at him as he remained still, perched on the end of the desk like some bizarre bird of prey.

"I'd say more of an illusionist- you've got that crazy stare-" She spoke for the first time since entering the office, and Bobby almost choked at her words, but he recovered nicely enough to glare at her. She just grinned, and folded her hands together in front of her.

"We need those files- if we're right-"

"And really, how often have we been wrong?" she quipped dryly from her seated position.

"-if we're right-" Bobby carried on as though she hadn't spoken "-this is cop's lives we are talking about here. This was a clue, a clue left for us by a killer who is asking to be caught. We can't do that without you."

"I can't promise anything, Goren. I'll speak to one of the more.. favorable judges- but I may or may not get the court order for you. I'll let you know when I do." Carver sighed gently, waving an arm to indicate that he wanted them gone. She stood, and walked ahead of Bobby out of the office. Just before they reached the door, she felt it- his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the door, leaning around her and opening it. She smiled to herself, a full fledged grin – and chuckled slightly. It was a sign – that he was moving past the argument they had the other night. That things could maybe survive this case- and they could carry on like always.

"So we don't have much to do until we get the files-" His voice rumbled out from behind her as they walked through the marble filled halls together. "How about lunch?"

She heard her stomach growl at the mention of food, and grinned. "I think lunch would be fantastic." They exited the building into bright sunshine, and glanced around. She suggested the deli close by- they would be able to pick the subpoena for the files up on the way back – hopefully.

As they ordered and settled into a small window table – Bobby liked to be able to people watch in those moments when they were silent together. She ate quickly, and found herself watching him as she did so. It wasn't unusual for them to have what she called 'silent meals'. The silence was never oppressive or uncomfortable in any way- it was always just silent. They both usually turned thoughts of the case over in their heads, and sometimes, Bobby would stare at the people rushing back and forth outside, and file observations about them away in the great encyclopedia in his head.

Today though, the case wasn't at the forefront of her mind – obviously it was there, hovering in the background, like a song you listen to while driving. She could still drive and sing to the song – and likewise she could still observe Bobby and think about the case. He was eating slower than she had- so the first thing she noticed were his hands. They were large- one could almost cover her whole face , she was sure – but they were surprisingly nimble. They moved swiftly, and yet with an odd grace that one didn't usually find in a man. Even when he spoke with them, they seemed to dance around him as he spoke, rather than them waving around in your face.

"What?" His voice startled her and she jumped slightly before looking up – trying not to be embarrassed as he watched her curiously. "You- you're staring."

"Sorry," she smiled slightly. "Stuck in a thought, I guess."

He leaned forward slightly, crushing a napkin in his hands as he did so, and then dropping it on the table next to him. "Penny for them?" he questioned with a small half smile.

"Please-" she snorted slightly. "Believe me when I say you can't afford me." He laughed slightly, and held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. Leaning back, he glanced out the window and bit his lip thoughtfully.

"I wonder how MJ is doing." He spoke quietly, and she brought her eyes up to his face, seeing the concern there- along with the slightly distracted look he wore when forced to think on things outside of the job.

"As good as can be expected I suppose. I call her every day." She answered softly, picking up the napkin he had dropped and fiddling with it for a moment before dropping it abruptly. He would notice her nervous twitching – he always did.

"You do? I didn't know that." He sounded surprised, as if he couldn't possibly ever not know something. She laughed shortly under her breath – you'd be surprised at what you don't know about me.

"Yeah- I just- I guess I remember what it's like to not know what really happened. It makes you feel useless, and impotent- so I call her. Not that I've had a lot to tell her lately-"

His eyes moved over to study her face, and she fought to keep her expression neutral. She stared back, feeling a surge of annoyance when she saw it- that light he got in his eyes when analyzing and profiling someone. Taking in reactions, discovering a reason for the response and filing it away. She glared at him, and he leaned back again, looking back outside at the people running around on the cold blustery day. They were silent for a moment, each just staring off, trapped within their own thoughts.

"Eames?" Bobby glanced over at her suddenly, leaning forward once again, and resting his arms on the cracked linoleum of their table. She froze for a moment, hearing his thoughts within that one word- stressed and deep and slightly crazed as he finally allowed them to boil up and over- out of his throat. Sighing slightly, she looked at him, leaning forward as well.

"Let's walk Bobby." She stood suddenly and strode out of the deli, leaving him to trail behind her confused. She glanced up and down the street before finally just going left- she could walk around the block. It would be fine. He caught up to her, looking down at her and pulling his coat closed as he did so.

"Eames-" There was that tone again- the one that said he'd been chewing on a thought for days, weeks, possibly months and now he was going to say it, no matter what.

Sighing , she halted mid step, turning towards him as he pulled back just short of walking into her. "What Bobby?" She knew that he wouldn't let it go, so she just resigned herself to the fact that she had to let him talk – and hopefully fix whatever he was about to break.

"I been thinking lately – do we know each other? Well, would you say?" She was almost tempted to laugh out loud, but she could see by the way he was huddled over her, the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes that he was serious.

"Depends on your definition of the term, I suppose. I know you Bobby- I know how you work, how you take your coffee, what size clothes you wear, and who your tailor is. I know a thousand different little things about you, but that doesn't mean I know you. We don't- really share a lot of the personal details most partners do- but I'd like to think that I know what kind of person you are- and you know me." She took her time, answering in starts and stops, trying to really think of an answer that would satisfy him, and yet avoid those ever present potholes lining the road they walked together.

"Should we? Talk about more personal things?" he wondered aloud, staring down at her like a small child asking permission from it's mother. She ran a hand over her face and looked up at him, trying to word her response carefully.

"I've always assumed, Bobby – that we have certain- boundaries in our partnership. Boundaries are there for a reason, even if it's a reason we never discuss. I know that if I ever needed you – you'd be there, no questions asked. And I think you know that too." She spoke quietly, knowing that he hovered so close he could hear her, despite the masses of people surrounding them and the traffic behind them.

"Is it enough?" His eyes searched hers and she fought the urge to turn away, and hide any response from him. She knew he could read her well – it would be pointless to try.

"I don't know Bobby. Let me ask you something. Why don't you ever call me by my name?" She stared up at him expectantly, neatly turning the tables in the conversation. He opened his mouth and paused, before closing it and shrugging silently. He couldn't answer her because the answer would be too dangerous. Just like she couldn't answer him for the same reason. It wasn't enough, and she knew that. But it had to be- it was all she had. And he knew his reasons for always calling her Eames- she could only begin to guess at what they were – but whatever they were, he didn't want to share.

"Alright, you win." He stepped back, and she felt the loss of his warmth as the wind snaked around him and tugged at her. She shook her head silently, knowing she hadn't won, but she was fighting for something more than he was. Their jobs were their lives- both of them. And she had appointed herself protector of those lives. Even if she had to protect them from him. His phone rang, shattering the moment, and he answered it with a bemused expression. Turning to her, he grinned like a school boy. "Come on – we have some files to go collect- and no you're not making me go alone again."

She pushed open the door slowly, not wanting to go into the records room – it's files all lining the walls in shelves and larger boxes towards the back. Every complaint filed, every piece of evidence filed, noted, summarized, it was all housed in the basement of the IAB building. It was a huge cavern of information- and probably Bobby's wet dream. She smiled reluctantly – it was half the reason she always sent him. And the other half-

"Whadda ya want?" a shout rang out, startling her out of her thoughts. The other half was Joe Clemmans. Clemmans was a fifty plus year old man, who has been injured in the line of duty – and shoved down here as a result. Bobby leaned against the counter grinning.

"Hey Joe- we uh- we need some IAB files, on a Theresita Casa, a Mark Collier, a Hope Yellis and a Daniel Jones." He pushed the list across the counter and Joe studied it silently for a moment before glaring up at Bobby.

"This for that cop killing case?" His voice was gruff and she watched as he glared past Bobby to her. Sighing inwardly, she stepped forward.

"Yes- so could you get the files, please?" She gritted her teeth as his eyes traveled over her with contempt. Joe was old school – had been with the force forever. His views on female cops wasn't exactly PC – and he showed it unapologetically. Ignoring her and turning to Bobby he spoke slowly, as if talking to a child.

"You know I can't just hand these over. Cop killer or not- those are IAB and my ass would be grass if I gave em to ya." He slammed the list on the counter and crossed his arms in front of him. With his thinning hair and barrel like chest, he looked like a older version of popeye. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and shove a pipe in his mouth- it would be better than her running behind the counter and kicking him in the shins- or elsewhere- anyway.

"Really?" She pouted, playing the dumb card. Reaching into her pocket she slammed a piece of paper on the counter. "Maybe this warrant will help. I don't know- what do you think Bobby?" She turned to Bobby, smiling slightly and opening her eyes wide, deferring to him with her body language.

"It should cover it, I think." Bobby looked over at Joe, who glared at her viciously before grabbing the paper and inspecting it carefully. His standards must have been satisfied because he slapped the paper on the counter and spun on his heel, stalking down the rows of files like an angry peacock. She choked on a slight laugh, and watched as he quickly pulled the four files.

"Eames." Bobby's voice was a whisper in her ear, his tone a warning and she rolled her eyes at it. At that moment Clemmans slammed the files on the counter, and shoved a clip board at them.

"You need to sign em out." She stepped forward picking up the pen and filling out her name and badge number followed by Bobby's. She could hear Cleammans muttering above her as she signed with a flourish and slid the paper along to Bobby. He too signed, not bothering to check if the information was right- she had filed enough claims and reports that he knew she probably knew his badge number better than he did. She gathered the files, smiling sweetly at Clemmans , who all but spat at her.

"Thanks so much Mr. Clemmans. The service here is so fantastic." She breathed out and smothered another laugh as she turned towards the door feeling his eyes bore into her back. Once they were in the SUV, Bobby glared at her reproachfully.

"He's almost retired Eames. And he was hurt in the line of duty for Christ's sake."

"He's a chauvinistic pig who needs to take a happy pill or twelve million." She drove steadily, smiling at Bobby's attempts to make her feel guilty. He just shook his head and opened the files in front of him eagerly, scanning the contents.

Once they arrived back at the bullpen, and had hung their coats and retreated to their room- they sat down, and puled the files in front of them. Bobby divided them up – he took Yellis and Collier's and gave her Jones' and MJ's- which was about an inch thick. She glared at him briefly before burying her nose in the file.

"They were reported." Bobby muttered, pulling a sheet from Collier's files and waving it. "And would you look at who reported them- their Captain."

"Hmm.. and of course he never said a word." She spoke dryly, scanning through the many pages of MJ's file quickly before moving on to Jones'. "Jones and Yellis were reported – get this- seven times for fraternization. Each complaint filed by a different member of the precinct. How nice." She pulled the complaints out as she spoke, eying each report carefully.

"They were- all looked into but closed due to lack of evidence of fraternization." Bobby spoke from the opposite side of the table.

"Because there was no evidence." She laughed shortly. "Idiots." She paused for a moment, before looking up in surprise. "Hey Bobby- do you see this? Every single report was investigated by Detective Jonas Smyth. That's odd, isn't it? I mean having the same investigator- every time?" She glanced at Bobby who was digging through the file in front of him, nodding and an excited look covering his face.

"Not only that – but look-" he pulled a piece of paper triumphantly from Collier's file. "- he investigated Mark and MJ too. And look-" he jabbed his finger at the report, waving it excitedly in front of her. She sighed and grabbed his wrist to still his hand so she could read the report without getting a headache.

"It was filed two weeks before Collier was killed. That's what we call timing. Nothing unusual happened my ass, Captain." She muttered to herself before meeting Bobby's eyes.

"I think we need to get ourselves another meeting with captain Sims." Bobby spoke first, breaking the short silence.

"A second date- I'm sure he'll be thrilled." She spoke dryly, before standing to go to their desks. "I'll call him – you go find as much info on Smyth as you can- see if he fits the profile. I'll swing by and warn the Captain on my way back." She spoke in an excited tone- finally they seemed to be getting somewhere. She glanced back at the door, only to see Bobby with his head bent towards the laptop screen, already searching for more information on Smyth- searching for that one piece of information that would make the pieces of the puzzle all click.