A/N: This is for Heather - Happy Birthday! For the record, this is nowhere near as awesome as the gift she gave me (six weeks early, even!) but hopefully it's at least a decent read.

A/N2: Goes along with the episode "Privilege"

Eames POV

We worked like a well-oiled machine

Which is a relief because after that last case, the Dockerty case, I was thinking that maybe we've jumped the shark.

As partners, I mean.

As friends...I don't know.

As anything more...well, I gave up on that little fantasy a while ago.

But anyway, now he's back and we've got our groove going and I feel like we have new life.

As partners.

And friends.

But the more part is still never going to happen.

I would've liked for it to. I mean, I love him. I've known that for a while.

But I'm a realist and the fact of the matter is that Bobby is too wrapped up in his own little world.

He doesn't have a clue how I feel.

And honestly, I don't think it would matter if he did know.

He's just…behind an impenetrable wall.

A self-imposed prison meant to deny himself any kind of pleasure out of life.

Other than the job, anyway.

For the past month, he's been on a forced-but-let's-call-it-vacation-time sabbatical.

And I've missed him.

Not the him I had to work with on the Dockerty case, but the normal him. He's subtly funny and he smiles at my sarcasm and it's just nice to be around someone who doesn't need an explanation for everything I do and say. He just gets me.

Much better than anyone else.

And believe me, I've been looking. Maybe I wasn't before, but lately…well, I decided it was time. Like I said, I finally realized that as much as Bobby depends on me, a romantic relationship isn't in our future, and since I haven't given up hope entirely on finding someone to love me, I went out on a couple of dates during his time off.

Two dates, to be precise. With two different men.

Both were charming and marginally handsome and somewhat intelligent.

Neither interested me at all.

Both attempted a goodnight kiss.

Neither succeeded.

Not because I'm some kind of prude or anything, and believe me, a little bit of physical affection would be really nice because it's been a long damn time, but…I just can't. Not with either of them. Not when I'd be pretending each were someone else.

Some one in particular.

It was a long month without him at work, and I just wanted him to come back and for us to find our rhythm. But I wasn't sure if that would happen.

So I was worried about his return, considering how things were before he left.

Although we talked during his absence. Not extensively or about anything of importance, but we did talk.

"Hi. Eames. It's me. Um…Bobby."

That's what he'd say every single time, as if I wouldn't know the sound of his voice.

Sometimes I'd tease him.

"I'm sorry, who?"

And then he'd laugh self-consciously for a moment before asking me how things were going. I'd say fine, and then I'd ask about his mother. He'd say she's the same and then there'd be a moment of silence, and that was about it.

But I appreciate that he made the effort to keep the connection alive.

And maybe it was that effort that made his return to work so seamless because I'm telling you, this Harrington case has really felt like old times.

"As a little girl, I used to dream of living this way," I remarked when we entered Lady Harrington's Park Avenue home.

"It's musty. You see the dead flies in the lamp…fake flowers…I hope you got over that," he replied as a smile played on his lips, and see, that right there is how I ended up falling in love with him.

He can be playful and so damn cute.

A few minutes later, after we finagled our way into Lady Harrington's bedroom, he showed off another example of why I love him.

"This is how you treat your mother? She's flush, her skin is dry. Eames, we're going to need an ambulance," he stated, his voice filled with concern.

"You have no right to barge in here and start demanding ambulances," Grant insisted.

"Shut up," Bobby fired back.

"I'd shut up if I were you," I told Grant as I pulled out my phone.

And yeah, it's his commanding presence and his strong desire to do the right thing that gets me.

"Detectives, get out of my home."

"I said to shut up, so sit down and shut up!" Bobby yelled, and that finally did the trick. Grant backed off, and we got the paramedics to come take care of Lady Harrington.

All of that happened a few days ago. Virginia Harrington made a remarkable recovery, and in the meantime our investigation picked up speed. We learned that Isabel was planning to do an expose on the Harringtons, thus giving motive for someone in the family to want to put a lid on it.

That someone turned out to be Ernest Foley.

Although we didn't know that for sure until we went to Lady Harrington's party. Fortunately, she seemed to have a thing for Bobby, so he turned on the charm and gave her a call, and she invited us to come. It would give us the chance to feel out our two suspects, Grant and Ernest.

"I'll pick you up at eight," Bobby told me as we left the precinct.

I paused for a moment, getting ready to argue that he doesn't have to pick me up, because he's making it sound almost like a date, but when I glanced over at him, I see the half-smile is in place.

He's having fun with this, I realized.

Well, good. Him, having fun, is always an unexpected treat, especially lately, so I went along with it.

"Don't think you can get away with honking the horn. I expect you to come to the door," I joked.

And damn if he didn't.

At seven fifty-five, my doorbell rang, and when I opened it, there he stood, clean-shaven and wearing a different suit.

"Wow, Eames…that's a nice dress."

That's not exactly a compliment to me, is it?

"Thanks. Nice suit," I replied, forcing myself to be casual, even though I like the way he's looking at me.

Like he's actually seeing me.

Although what if he doesn't like what he sees, I wondered, but then I gave myself a mental kick in the ass.

See, that's the problem with us teasing about this being a date. I fooled myself with that misconception, too. I went all out, trying to dress nice for him. And I'll never admit it, but I tried to recreate how I looked on my last date because that guy told me I looked beautiful.

Of course, those are words I'll never hear from Bobby, but still…it was worth a try, right?

Or maybe not. Because I felt a little saddened that he only complimented the dress.

But I got over my disappointment because we're working for God's sake, trying to catch a murderer.

And we did.

Like I said, it was Ernest Foley. And we were able to arrest him on three counts of murder instead of just the two we were originally investigating.

We also managed to make a hell of a scene at Lady Harrington's party, but I don't feel too bad about that.

Her son's a killer. I think our disturbance is the least of her worries.

Anyway, so we sent Ernest with the uniformed officers, and then spoke with Lady Harrington for a few minutes, and then we went out to the SUV.

Bobby's phone rang as we got to the vehicle, so we stood outside for a moment while he answered, and after a brief conversation, he hung up, tucking his phone into his pocket as he looked at me from across the hood.

"It's not going to be tonight," he said. "Ernest has already lawyered up, so the meeting is set up for tomorrow morning."

"That was fast," I remarked.

"That's money," he said with a shrug.

"Well, tomorrow works for me. Today's been long enough."

I climbed into the car, and believe me, it's not easy getting into an SUV in a dress and heels, and I was kind of focused on doing it gracefully, which is how I missed what Bobby said next.

"What?" I asked as I finally pulled the door closed and then buckled my seatbelt.

"I asked if you want to get something to eat," he repeated.

"Dinner?"

"Yeah, that meal you eat at the end of the day," he clarified with a half-smile. "Are you hungry?"

"Um…yeah," I realized.

"So…"

"Yeah, sure," I agreed.

But as he drove us toward whatever destination, I had to ask.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are we going to dinner?"

Because while it's not entirely unusual for us to get a meal together, it is strange for him to want to do it at the end of the work day.

And I'll give him points for not feigning ignorance. A lot of points because I was expecting a flippant answer, something about needing sustenance, rather than an honest response to my question.

And I'll give him even more points because I like his answer.

"You're all dressed up. It'd be a shame to take you home already," he said, easing the car to a stop at a red light and then glancing over at me as he added, "You look really nice."

He held my gaze for another beat and then he turned his attention back to the road.

"Thank you," I said, and the awkwardness that draped over the car was like a living entity, and I closed my eyes for a minute as I tried to figure out what in the world we're doing and how we got here.

"You think Lady Harrington is going to be alright?" he questioned after a few miles in silence, and then it hit me that maybe we aren't here.

Maybe he was just being nice and I was reading way too much into it.

Note to self: it's time to go on another date. And this time, I'll invite the guy in because who the hell cares if I'm thinking about Bobby? No one has to know but me, right?

And maybe if I put an end to my sexual drought, I'll be able to quit seeing something in everything Bobby says.

Besides, this is who we are, and I've been fine with that until tonight, so I'm not sure how I got sucked back into having hope.

So I took a deep breath and shoved aside my disappointment.

"She's a tough old bird," I responded, pleased that I managed to make my voice sound normal. "I think she'll be fine."

He hummed his agreement and then said quietly, "I'm sorry about…before."

"Did you do something I don't know about?" I asked in an effort to sound playful.

"Our last case. Me, going off the deep end. I should've said something before now, but…I'm sorry."

An apology from Bobby is a rarity, that's for sure, but the fact that he's issuing one makes me immediately let him off the hook. Not that I was harboring any ill will towards him or anything, but I don't want him to worry about it, either.

"You were in an impossible situation," I reasoned.

"Maybe, but I shouldn't have taken any of it out on you."

I nodded as he pulled the car into a parking spot along the curb, and then to my surprise, he turned towards me with purpose.

"It's not just that you look nice. I mean, you do, but…I've missed you. And I didn't realize how much until I got back to work. So that's why I asked you to dinner."

For a minute, we just looked at each other and I wish I could read his mind because I just have no idea what he's thinking. And I usually do. Or at least, I usually think I do. But maybe it's because of his time off, or because we're wading into uncharted territory, I don't know, but I'm completely clueless as to his intentions.

Does he mean he missed me as a friend?

But then I gave myself another mental kick in the ass.

Because I'm being ridiculous.

It's no secret that Bobby doesn't have many people in his life that he doesn't have to take care of, so the fact that I'm one of them, one with whom he can just be himself, makes it no surprise that he missed me.

And I really need to stop with the crazy fantasy and just accept our relationship for what it is.

"I'm glad you did," I said at last, and then I smiled and added, "I can fill you in on everything you missed while you were gone. You know, how the captain was lost without you to yell at, and…"

I trailed off as he started laughing, and the tension was once again gone from the car. Hell, it was probably only there in my mind anyway, since I'm the one living in make-believe-land.

We went into the restaurant and spent the next couple of hours eating and talking and laughing, and it was so nice, being back in rhythm again. It was fun, like how we used to be before.

"This was a great idea," I told him later, as he pulled up in front of my building.

"Well, I realized something while I was out," he began, and I'd had my hand on the door handle, but I let go and turned towards him when I realized he was going to say something more than just goodnight.

"I've taken you for granted," he continued. "And I've never once told you how important you are, how much I need you in my life."

"Bobby," I replied, preparing to dismiss his words, more to protect myself than anything, but he kept going.

"And not just at work. I mean, all the time. So, I'm kind of hoping that maybe tonight won't be a one-time thing. That maybe we'll have dinner again. Soon."

I couldn't stop the sarcastic response, because let's face it. Smart ass is what I do.

"I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure I'll be having dinner again tomorrow night."

"I meant with me," he said as his hand reached out to briefly touch mine.

"Are you asking me on a date?" I asked challengingly, and I fully expected him to back off.

Because we've come close to doing this dance a time or two. My fantasies aren't completely based on nothing.

But he's never managed to follow through, which told me that it was flirtation out of habit or proximity as opposed to any real interest.

But as we sat there in the car staring at each other, his lips quirked into a smile and he said, "Um…yeah, I am."

And my heart started pounding in my chest, so loudly that I almost couldn't hear my own response.

Not that I need to hear the words.

I certainly know what they are.

"Okay. Yes."

TBC...