I deleted and re-submitted this chapter, if anyone has any problems with it. I forgot to add all this talk-y stuff on top. Oops.

Anyways, I've kind of grown to hate this story. And I haven't thought up a good case yet, so that's coming in the next chapter. Thanks for sticking with me and putting up with all my errors. On a side note, look out for a GREAT casefile I thought up while trying to think up one for this story. It's coming in the next few weeks, as I acquant myself with some of the psychology knowledge needed.

Disclaimer: I'm not feeling witty tonight, so... they're just not mine.

There were no sounds – except for the deafening silence and running water. When Bobby Goren's life came to a surprising stand-still, the last sound he'd expected to hear was running water. That sound was like a slap in the face. A reminder that the world was still turning, gravity was still pulling water down drains, everyone was living their lives like nothing had just happened. What had just happened anyways?

The water in the kitchen had stopped. Sam had finished wetting the dishtowel and was putting pressure on his fresh wound as he walked out to where Bobby was still standing – looking down at the shattered picture frame as if it were a rattlesnake poised to strike.

"It's not going to bite you." Sam ground out, kneeling down cautiously to pick it up. A few shards of glass fell to the ground and he could only groan at the lack of protection for his feet. "It's just a picture, man." Again, he addressed Bobby with the formality of a twelve year old.

Bobby could do nothing but blink away his confusion at the younger man's civility. Weren't they just fighting? How did he just turn a page like that? He wasn't used to someone suddenly acting very cozy – not that this was exactly cozy, but it was a far step from trying to strangle each other, as they had been moments ago.

"I- I'm s-sorry." Bobby managed to mumble. He was still processing the entire situation.

"Tell that to my pounding head." Carefully, so as not to cut himself, Sam started the slow process of cleaning up the remnants of glass from the shattered frame. "Now I know why some people think you're crazy."

The muttered insult hadn't gone unnoticed by Bobby, but he was too worked up over Eames' reaction to what had transpired to be too ruffled by it. Besides, he'd been called worse things by better people – these days, the insults just rolled off of him when they weren't worth it.

"You – You might need stitches." Bobby offered lamely. And at that, the boy seemed to lose some of his color.

"Do you think?" Momentarily forgetting the task at hand he stood up, almost at eye level with Bobby. "Will… Will you check it? I really can't afford to get stitches." Bobby was going to say no. He was going to come up with some excuse – he wasn't qualified, he was squeamish of blood – something that would render his opinion of the situation null and void. "I don't want to go bother Alex. She'll just worry." Sam explained after Bobby was silent for just longer than comfortable.

The mention of Alex was all it took. Bobby had the boy's head in his and was tilting to towards the floor. It was an odd sight, almost something you'd expect from a father/son pairing. Hell, they could probably pass themselves off as father and son if they looked more alike, Bobby thought wanly as he finished his inspection.

There was a nasty cut, but nothing life-threatening and Bobby told the boy so. Satisfied at the answer, Sam went back to picking up the broken pieces. Bobby was at a loss and seemed glued in place. Why would this guy just take his word for it? They had no history, no background that said he wouldn't lie to him. Wouldn't make up that he was fine, just to cause him more pain. Perhaps this boy was just naïve? He had to be… not older than twenty?

"How old are you?"

Obviously, Sam had expected the conversation to be over because he jumped at the sound of Bobby's voice looming over him. Scrambling to pick up the again-scattered shards, he answered. "Seventeen until December."

Seventeen? Seventeen? What the hell was Eames doing hanging around someone who wasn't even of legal age yet?

With this newly acquired information, Bobby was more confused than ever. As if suddenly remembering that his legs were still attached to the rest of his body, Bobby backed up from where Sam was cleaning. With determination and a quick stride, Bobby was moving towards the door Alex had disappeared behind.

"Yeah… thanks for the help, jerk."

Alex heard the soft knock on her bathroom door. She just chose to ignore it – which had been the wrong thing to do.

Hearing the handle wiggle under the strain of big hands twisting, she knew it would not be Bobby who caved first. And with the tell-tale creak of her bathroom door opening, Alex knew he'd either broken or jimmied the lock. Though, whatever he'd done to it, it was probably fixable. Considerate bastard.

"Eames?" The unsure tone of his voice was only muffled, not concealed, by the running water of the shower. The thunk that singled he was sitting on the covered toilet seat wasn't masked at all, nor was Eames' mental sigh. She was not prepared to deal with this naked.

"What Goren?" Using his last name was a final effort to keep things as formal as possible in the tiny room where one of them was naked and only hidden by a flimsy shower curtain. It sure as hell wasn't going to help her avoid the flurry of questioning she knew would follow.

"Who's that?"

"I told you, that's Sam."

"Yeah, but… W-Who is Sam?"

She shrugged with practiced avoidance, even though he couldn't see it. This was not something she was going to discuss with him, not now anyways. This was a conversation for a public place, where they were both fully clothed and they were far away from Sam. Somewhere that gave him a head start in case Goren wanted to enter into another round of wrestling with him. Why he'd fought with him in the first place, Eames had no idea. Would he fight with Sam again? Eames didn't know about that either.

He had too much respect for her to try and study her silhouette through the shower curtain. Plus, he didn't have x-ray vision, so it was a wasted cause anyways. Instead, Bobby focused his attention on the green towel that lay bunched in a pile on the bath mat.

"Bobby? Did you even hear what I just said?" The sound of running water had stopped and all that was left was the same skeptical voice he had heard on the phone Friday night when he'd zoned out on her. "You must just keep me around for my looks if my voice has you spacing out."

"No! I was listening, Eames. I just – I just got distracted. You know how my mind wanders." The last of his denial was soft and shameful, shifting his attention to his feet like that of a chastised school boy.

"Relax. I was kidding, Goren. I was just saying I'm not up for this conversation right now. Can we take a rain check?"

Unable to think of a reason why he couldn't wait for an explanation, Bobby had to give in and let her have her way. Saying his nerves and his mind just couldn't take not knowing wasn't a justifiable reason.

"I also said you're going to have to go ahead and get out of the bathroom."

"Why?" A puzzled Bobby was still not all the way in the present.

"Because I'm getting out of the shower." And with that statement, one of Alex's legs began to peek from behind the safety and invisibility of the curtain. Before her foot hit the cool tile of the floor, the bathroom door slammed so hard that it shook the cabinets on the wall. With a self-satisfied smile, Alex went about her morning routine.

Emerging ten minutes later, ready for the day, Alex was surprised to find that the mess her two boys had left was all but cleaned up. The picture would need a new frame and she was short a lamp for the time being, but other than that the destruction of two had all but disappeared.

"See, Sam! I'll make a house-cleaner out of you yet!" Alex teased, walking towards him to check the wound on his head.

"He did most of it." He blindly gestured in the direction of Bobby with his head bent down within Alex's eye line.

"Who do you think taught him?" Alex smiled and glanced towards Bobby, who looked more worried than ever for some unknown reason. "He's fine, Goren." She informed him, misdiagnosing the cause of his worry.

"He knows. He already checked while you were in the shower."

"His name is Goren. Or Bobby, if you prefer."

The car ride to 1PP had been made in silence. Bobby easily passed off his keys and Alex swooned over coffee (it was still relatively hot because he'd had the foresight to order it practically boiling), but other than that, no conversation was had. Alex reveled in the warm relief caffeine allowed and Bobby lamented in the scenarios that his mind forced him to dwell on.

Their comfortable silence lasted only long enough for them to step off the elevator. As soon as they were spotted, they were ushered in to see Ross. Happy to be able to duck out of paperwork – even if it was only procrastinating on it – Bobby followed Alex into his office.

Another day brought another case and another way Bobby could focus his mind on something else besides Alex and her… visitor.

Yes? No? You reviewers are the blood that gives this story life! Let me know where the clogged arteries are! ...Does that even make any sense?