She understands, really, she does.

After Joe died she went for nearly a year without it; at her lowest points she'd grimly accepted that she'd never do it again. You grow used to it, begin to hardly feel it's abscence as the second month stretches into the third... It's as if you never did it at all.

Then you do it again, and it's so wonderful, that you just want the moment to last forever.

"Oh--oh--"

"Bobby, honestly, wrap it up."

"I'm--trying--"

She barely manages to stifle a groan as she watches her partner's red face contort above her. She knows it's been years, probably, since Bobby's done it but he's starting to abuse her good graces.

"It's not that funny."

This does not have the intended effect as a fresh peal of laughter errupts from her partner. Not that she can blame him, she laughed so hard when her brother slipped on the ice and slopped cranberry sauce all over himself the Thanksgiving after Joe's death that she'd almost peed her pants.

"Oh-okay, I'm done."

"Good. Now let's interview the witness and get out of here."

As they enter the grand foyer, she does groan when she sees the massive banners hanging from the walls, dark eyes glaring down at her accusingly --

--And Bobby's lost it again, shrieking loudly like a howler monkey and attracting stares from the passersby.

"You--you--"

"Yes, Bobby. I cut up what turned out to be a twenty thousand dollar teddy bear. When I was seven."

"Y-your face-- when you saw--and you're so--"

She sighs loudly, rolling her eyes, "I'm so what, Goren?"

" --cheap! You just cut him up--twenty thousand dollars!"She's resents that, just a little bit. She's not cheap, she's just-- conservative with her money. Growing up one of five kids being raised on a cop's salary teaches you that. It's not something to be ashamed of--

"Who pays twenty thousand dollars for a damn teddy bear anyway? Now will you pull yourself together?"

"Okay, okay..." His face once again becomes solemn, but only for a split second. "Go! Go, Eames... j-just pretend I'm not here-- twenty thousand dollars!"

Sighing she walks towards their witness, a nervous-looking auctioneer (although whether it's because of guilt or her partner's complete and utter breakdown is tossup), trying to ignore the chilly stares of pre-operation Steven on the posters around her.

Hearing Bobby really laugh for the first time in two and a half years might have actually been worth twenty thousand dollars though.

I'm sooo not cheap.