A/N: So now y'all know if you were right or not. Once again- I am loving the reviews like a cheap whore- so keep em up!

Disclaimer: Do I look like Dixk Wolfe or whoever owns NBC? Well, you can't see me- but trust me, I don't.

She had almost put the sirens on on the ride back to the office- nearly ran two red lights, all thanks to the simple level of agitation in her partner's voice. Her partner, who as she strode out of the elevator at an odd hybrid between a skip and a jog, was seemingly unaware of her approach. His head was bent towards the desk- buried in a file with one hand on the back of his neck and the other tapping a pencil in a quick staccatto against the desk. It was the only outward sign of any nervous energy, and he didn't even look up until she was practically on top of him, placing his cup of coffee on his desk. He blinked and looked at his watch in confusion.

"Eames- what the hell- did you fly? I only called you ten, fifteen minutes ago." His voice was confused, and calm She glared at him with an incredulous expression on her face, and leaned a hip against the edge of his desk.

"I don't know Bobby- usually when my partner calls me agitated and in a tizzy- I tend to rush. Maybe that's just me, but-"

"A tizzy? I wasn't in a tizzy." He objected in a scoffing tone and she rolled her eyes as he leaned back, staring up at her. When he finally took his eyes off her, he noticed the coffee cup on his desk. His eyes lit up and he picked it up. "Coffee- thanks Eames." He paused, taking a sip and looked at her in wonder. "This- this is great coffee."

"MJ found the place- no worries, it's permanently etched in my mind. Uh- Bobby?" She slid along the edge of his desk, pushing her small frame a few inches closer to where he sat and interrupting his line of vision. He watched her warily, taking in her crossed arms and tense posture.

"Uh- yeah, Eames?" his tone was distracted as he continued to stare at the desk behind her.

"I know who did it? Can't believe I missed it? Any of this ringing any bells?" She watched as he continued to stare off into space, and sighing she reached out pushing his shoulder gently. "Bobby! The case- update please?"

"Oh. Oh!" He sat up straight, no longer leaning back in his chair and the movement caused him to bump into her crossed arms with his shoulder. He shot her and apologetic glance as he leaned forward to grope the surface of the desk behind her, finally pulling a file back with him. "This is it- NYPD member- get this- injured in 92, older male, complete access to files, and the best part- was a ME down in California for a few years before switching over to police work and eventually working Homicide."

"Shit. It would explain the peri and antimortem cutting. And the drugging, since he's injured. I suppose the shooting was what? Just a way to kill them quickly to start the cutting?" He nodded as she spoke, a slight smile tugging at his mouth as she connected the dots. "So- are you going to tell me who our lucky winner is?"

"Joe Clemmans." She had been reaching for the file as he spoke, but halted her momentum mid grab and almost fell from her precarious position on the edge of his desk. Grasping the edge, she shot him a none too pleased look, and arched a brow.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Eames- I don't kid about-"

"It was a rhetorical question Bobby- I know you weren't kidding. I just- I don't get it. Clemmans is a card carrying member of the 'I hate women' club. Why the hell would he kill the men?" She grabbed the file from his hand, flipping through it swiftly.

Bobby leaned back, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other propping up his chin while he ran his fingertips over his mouth. She stared at him for a moment in silence, waiting for the thoughts in his head to converge into one conclusion, and watching his fingers as they traced his mouth several times over. Shaking her head slightly, she looked down at the file in her hands, distracting herself with the case.

"It- it could be an attack on the women. I mean- comparatively- he's almost gentle with the men. They're drugged- so they aren't aware of the actual shooting. Death is quick- almost painless. I think he might take pity on the men- kills them quick- and then the cutting- that's all directed at the women." He sat straight up in shock, his leg bumping her knees and knocking the file to the floor.

"Why didn't I see it? Eames- everything about those crime scenes- the cutting, the arrangement of the bodies- all of it was geared towards the women finding the body." His hands waved excitedly as he spoke, his eyes alight and she could almost watch the shift- the subtle almost imperceptible change from 'thinking' Bobby – to the manic energy of 'I've got them' Bobby.

"But they didn't- well, Yellis did, but MJ didn't" She hopped off the desk, bending down to gather the file that had been knocked askew.

"MJ was supposed to find Mark- that she didn't was just an accident. He mutilates the bodies and arranges them in a grotesque fashion- for maximum trauma on the woman. He considers it more painful for the women to be left alone- to see the man that he thinks they love murdered in a brutal fashion."

"That sick son of a bitch." She stared at the file in her hands for a heartbeat- feeling the shock wear off. "Bobby- God, how did we not see this guy sooner?"

"Eames- he's- he's a highly functioning individual- I wouldn't be surprised if, once we catch him and get him in interrogation that he turns into a completely different person. It was an act Eames- the crotchety old man. And everyone fell for it- not just us." His tone was gentle- almost reassuring, which ironically only irritated her further. She didn't need placating.

"So did you call Ross?"

"And Carver- he's working on an arrest warrant for us. As soon as he has it, he'll call and we can go to Clemmans' apartment." They both looked behind them upon hearing the elevator doors slide open. Captain Ross strode into the room, a scowl on his face and dressed in dress pants and a dress shirt- but no tie and no coat.

"Seriously, you couldn't crack the case at some time other than the middle of the night, Goren?" Alex bristled at his implication and leveled an angry stare at him.

"Eleven pm is hardly the middle of the night, sir." She spoke in a tight voice. "Did Carver call you?"

"Better than that- he dropped off two warrants for me- one to search Clemmans' apartment, and another for his arrest. How the hell he managed to get both just based on your deductions, Goren, I'll never know." He frowned at them, holding up the two warrants in his hand, which Alex immediately strode over and grabbed.

"Excellent." She spoke, ignoring Ross' jibe at her partner. "Come on Bobby- we can grab a team and head out. Call CSU Captain and have them meet us at Clemmans' address. It's 401B West 43rd." She pulled Bobby's coat off the rack as she spoke, and handed it to him. He was already on the phone with SWAT, giving the address and pertinent information.

"Hey." Ross' tone was laced with irritation. "I'm the Captain, I give the orders." She paused, waiting for him to continue with an impatient glare. "You go meet the team, I'll let CSU know and meet you there." She turned on her heel, dragging Bobby by a sleeve, rolling her eyes as she went. They entered the elevator, with her still clutching the soft fabric of his greatcoat and him with his phone still pressed to his ear.

"No- yeah- I don't think he's much of a physical threat- but keep in mind he did murder two cops."

In the end, it was all for naught- the SWAT team busting in Clemmans' apartment, them going in with guns drawn. He wasn't there- and they stood there, in flak jackets and breathing heavily, the air thick with frustration and anger.

"Alright- he's in the wind guys- we need to search this place- and fast. Someone call and see if we can get any property hits in his name." For all his fumbling and seeming ineptitude when it came to dealing with other officers- Bobby was amazingly good at leading in crisis situations. She sighed softly, ripping the velcro at her side, and sliding out of her vest. Pulling out her cell, she made the call to ensure they would get information on his whereabouts. After handing the assignment to a set of junior detectives from their squad- and waking them up to boot- she put her phone down, and pulled a pair of gloves out of her coat pocket, snapping them on. Wandering down the hall, she found Goren in the kitchen with some CSU techs- going through the cupboards. Seeing her enter, he glanced over and held up a pill container.

"Found some Rohypnol- more than half gone though, assuming it was full to start with." He handed the bottle down to one of the techs, who bagged it quickly. Bobby stepped around them, holding out an arm to indicate that they walk down the hall, and propelling her forward with a hand hovering at the small of her back.

They stepped into the bedroom next- edging around the CSU's that were working in there as well. The whole apartment was somewhat utilitarian, very little furniture and clearly geared towards function. No pictures adorned the walls, no artwork hung. There was absolutely no sense of hominess to the place. Bobby wandered over to the closet, flicking through the clothes there. She crouched by the laundry hamper on the floor, emptying it and going through the contents. A black shirt caught her eye, and she pulled it up to look more closely. "Bobby- does Clemmans have a cat?"

"No sign of any animal, Eames. Why?" He turned towards her and she held up the shirt. It was littered with long strands of tan fur.

"Because unless I'm mistaken- this looks like Mark Collier's cat's fur." Bobby stepped closer, looking at the hairs closely.

"Are you sure? I thought his cat was an orange tabby?" He picked one of the hairs off and examined it in his gloved fingertips.

"It was the blood . When we interviewed MJ, the cat was there. And he was cleaned- CSU must have processed him and released him. And he was tan." His eyes met hers, and they stood still for a moment.

"You know what this means- these are the clothes he wore when he killed Mark Collier." They both stared down at the laundry on the floor, and he waved a CSU over, instructing them to bag the laundry.

"Yeah- it also means like any man- he can't do his own laundry. Who leaves clothes laying around that long? Especially if they're evidence." She thought aloud, and he glanced over at her.

"Hey I do my own laundry."

She rose a brow at him and chuckled. "Having a service pick your stuff up every three days doesn't mean you 'do your own laundry' Bobby."

"He wants to be caught- part of him hates what he's doing and wants to be punished." She stared at him for a beat before following the jump his train of thought had taken.

"Yeah- or he wants to be recognized for it." She muttered darkly, turning from him and moving into the bathroom.

After spending another two hours combing the crime scene, they still hadn't gotten any leads on other property owned by Joe Clemmans. Ross had ordered them home, since it was close to two am and they had been at work since six. She had arrived at her house around three, and didn't even make it to the bed before passing out on the sofa. Four hours later she was awakened by a knocking on her door and a crick in her neck. She attempted to roll off her sofa- but wound up in a heap on her hardwood floor instead. Standing with a groan, she opened the door to find a bright eyed and bushy tailed partner standing there with two familiar cups of coffee. His clothing was immaculate, and he had even shaved- or at least trimmed the growth down to it's usual level, which really constituted shaving for Bobby. He also looked like he had gotten a solid eight hours sleep, while she looked like she had slept on the couch in yesterday's clothes and makeup. She glared at him, wincing when having to look up hurt her neck further.

She didn't speak- merely left the door open and stalked into her bedroom, slamming that door shut. She had no idea what he was doing, but she was at least getting a shower before looking at him again. She stepped under the spray in her en suite bathroom and moaned slightly.

Forty minutes later, she walked back out to the living room, and he handed her the still hot coffee. She looked down in surprise, and looked up at him, smiling.

"I called MJ- got the address. And then I reheated it about seven minutes ago- when I heard the hair dryer. I know you always do that last, and it only takes about five minutes." She simply took a sip of the coffee, shaking her head. The information he filed away was at times unnatural, but it got her hot coffee, so she wasn't about to knock it.

"Anything new?" She didn't bother to ask if he'd called in yet- she knew he had before he even got there, and probably again while she was in the shower.

"No hits on property- but CSU will have results for us when we get there. Eames-" he looked down at her with a concerned expression, and she took another fortifying sip of coffee. She would need it, she was sure. "You shouldn't sleep on your sofa like that- you could injure your back. I mean, I could have dropped you off at home if you were that tired."

"And let you drive?" She snorted slightly under her breath. "I don't think so. Besides Bobby- even if you had dropped me off, short of you coming in and tucking me in- I would have ended up in the same spot I'm sure." She watched with interest as he seemed flustered at her statement and glanced away. She handed him her cup to hold as she pulled her quilted jacket on. She had gone with jeans and a sweater today- they wouldn't be conducting interviews, so she dressed more appropriately for chasing perps- which they might be doing. Pulling her boots on and grabbing her keys, she took her cup back, and nodded at him. "Let's go."

A little over an hour later, they were back in the briefing room- the room she was really coming to hate looking at. It had no personality- nothing other than the case stamped all over it. Not that their desks were much better- but at least she had some photos to stare at, and it felt more comfortable. Added to the already massive stacks of files were the recent lab reports from CSU. Bobby was already seated, flipping through the reports, muttering, making notes and handing them to her when he was done. She sighed, taking them and casting her own eyes over them tiredly.

They had found traces of Collier's blood on the shirt, along with the fur which was a match to the cat. Also found in the laundry basket was a pair of black pants with traces of blood from both Mark Collier and Daniel Jones. She wrinkled her nose in disgust- it was worse than she had thought. Who wears the same pants to both murders?

She sighed, moving on to the report on the pill bottle. Clemman's fingerprints had been all over it. The bottle had the capacity to hold 32 pills, but only 11 were found inside. Frowning she paused, an odd thought was niggling at the back of her mind. Digging down to the ME reports on both Collier and Jones she read along until she found what she wanted. Rohypnol found in the blood- 14mg levels. Grabbing the photos from the crime scene, she saw what she wanted. A photo of the pills and container, and clearly stamped on the pills were 2mg. "Oh fuck." She whispered, doing mental calculations in her head. Jumping up she strode out of the room and into the Captain's office. Bobby- who had been startled by her movement, must have recognized the look on her face and followed at a sharp trot.

"Captain- we need to get our hands on IA's files- all of the complaints Smyth looked into in the last few months." She didn't knock- just burst into the office, with Bobby hot on her heels.

"Detective Eames, why would we need that? We have our perp- shouldn't we be concentrating on finding him?" Ross didn't look up from the paperwork he was currently filling out, and she felt a surge of irrational anger. If it had been Goren- hell maybe even Logan or any of the other men on the squad, they would have his full attention. Striding forward she slammed her hands on to of his desk and watched as he jumped back in surprise. "Eames! What in the hell are you doing?"

"We need those files- and we need them yesterday. I don't give a shit how hard they are to get- he was missing 21 pills! He only used 7 per victim- 14mg of Rohypnol in their systems- and there are 21 pills missing!" She was shouting now, her body tight with anger. She felt Bobby's hands at her waist, pulling her back, pushing her behind him. She slapped at him, but he ignored her, placing himself in front of the Captain who had risen up in anger.

"Seven pills per victim sir-" he spoke quickly latching onto her point immediately. "Two victims means 14 pills, but if seven more are missing- he's planning another murder." Suddenly the anger left Ross' face and he stared at Goren for a moment. Alex felt the urge to hiss at her superior officer and kick him soundly somewhere that would make him scream like a little girl. Sure when she asks for it, she's ignored, but Goren strolls in and steals her idea- a small voice at the back of her head spoke through her anger. He's helping you- not stealing your thunder. You could have pissed Ross off- he was protecting you. She felt the anger deflate out of her, like helium from an open balloon and she sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.

Ross picked up the phone quickly, dialing the ADA and speaking in rushed tones. Turning, Bobby pushed her out of the office and back towards the briefing room, closing the door and then the blinds. Turning to her he expelled a short frustrated breath and glared. "What the hell was that Eames? Since when do you not tell me discoveries?"

"Since two cops died and we don't have time to screw around, Goren!" She felt the anger rise in her again, only to be displaced when he placed his hands on her shoulders, gripping them gently.

"We tell each other, Eames. It's our rule- remember? So I don't do that to you anymore- and frankly being on the other end of it- I apologize for every time I did it to you in the beginning." He sighed, his fingers tightening on her shoulders, and tension in his arms, as though he wanted to pull her forward and fought it.

"I know." She spoke plaintively, her head falling forward and exhaustion setting in after the adrenaline. "I'm sorry- I just- we may be too late Bobby." She whispered and he crouched lower to look into her eyes.

"We'll do everything we can, Eames." She nodded in response, and he released her, taking a step back. She took a deep breath, looking at him with contrition. He nodded and sat heavily in her chair, before glancing up at her. "It was a good catch- I missed it."

"That's what I'm here for." She spoke dully, leaning against the table, her body leaning towards him, even as she pulled herself further away. He stared at her for a beat, before dropping his head in his hands silently, and they stayed that way , waiting for the files that would save another cop- or lead them to another murder scene.