Disclaimer: I don't own anything connected to Law & Order: Criminal Intent but if Dick Wolf is feeling generous I'm always willing to take delivery. No financial gain involved in writing this story, so please don't sue.

Summary: Definitely B/A - but if you've read any of my other stuff you could have guessed that ;o) I've been rewatching my Season 1 DVDs and this is what happened in my head after some of the episodes. Hope you enjoy.

A/N: Thanks so much to all of you who are reading/reviewing/etc. I'll be keeping the chapters short on this one but I promise they will be arriving on a regular basis ;o)

Alex's POV

I glance towards the window as a car drives past. 'Damn I must have been out of it when I got home tonight' I think to myself, noticing that I've left the kitchen blind open.

I hate doing that, the window faces out onto the street in front of the house and anyone could see me wandering around, half asleep with bedhead when I wake in the mornings, before I've had enough coffee to actually make me feel alive. I put the kettle back on the stove, light the gas beneath it, then turn and walk over to the window, reaching up to draw down the blind.

'What the hell?' I see the car parked opposite my house and for a moment think I'm hallucinating. Then I see the drive slouch further down in his seat. There's no mistaking him, even in the dark from across the street. I take a step back from the window and pick up my cell phone from the charger on the counter, hitting speed dial 2.

"Goren" at least he has the decency to sound a little embarrassed.

"Why are you parked outside my house?" I ask, unable to keep the amusement out of my voice.

"I … erm … well … well ya see … I couldn't sleep so … erm … so I decided to go for a drive … erm … and …"

"I'm just making some tea, get in here." I can't stand to listen to his fall over his words any longer, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation.

I wander out into the hall, unlock my front door and then return to the kitchen to finish making the tea. I know Goren will lock up once he's inside. I listen to him open the door, the rustle of fabric as he takes off his jacket and hangs it up. Then the slight thud as he removes his shoes. 'Well he seems to be making himself comfortable anyway.' I think as I pour water into the teapot and reach into the cupboard for another mug.

I feel his eyes on my back and turn my head to glance at him over my shoulder. He's standing in my kitchen doorway, well actually he's leaning one shoulder against the frame, his other hand is rubbing the back of his neck, the way he does when he's thinking hard or is feeling unsure about whether he should do what he's thinking of doing. The I turn around to fully face him, seeing a flash of something in his eyes that definitely shouldn't be there, and I feel my stomach tighten again, like it did during the interrogation, as I realise I didn't bother with my dressing gown and all I'm wearing is a very short pair of shorts and a small tank top. I'm well aware of how acute my partner's sense of smell is and I swear I see his nostrils flair, as I feel myself begin to dampen just at the thought of being in the same room as him when I'm wearing next to nothing.