Eames came out of the kitchen with a pint of ice cream and sat on the couch, curling her legs beneath her. Goren watched her. She held out the spoon. “Want a bite?”

“No, thanks. I called British Airways. The ambassador's plane lands shortly.”

“Jet lag or not, something tells me he'll turn up in the squad room bright and early.”

He nodded agreement and forced his attention to the television, which Eames had put on the news. When she got up to return her ice cream to the kitchen, he watched her. He watched her as she returned to the couch and sat beside him again. With a swallow he gave in to impulse, leaning over to kiss her. Her lips were still cool from the ice cream, and he tasted mint and chocolate. His hand rested on her stomach, sliding to her side so he could pull her closer. Reaching up, she buried her hand in his hair, welcoming a deeper kiss.

She began to undo the buttons of his shirt, but was interrupted by the annoying ring of his cell phone. Reluctantly, she withdrew and he pulled out the offending device. “Goren,” he growled, unable to filter all the annoyance from his voice.

She leaned back against the couch and listened to his end of the conversation. “No, captain. Nothing I can't get back to. Yes. We'll be there. I'll tell Eames. Good night, sir.”

He ended the call and tossed the phone on the coffee table. “The ambassador's plane has landed and he'll be in the squad room first thing in the morning. The captain wants us there, prepared for battle. We arrested his little girl.”

“Wonderful. I can't wait.”

He rested his arms on his knees and clasped his hands in front of him, staring at them. The moment had passed. He sighed. “I guess...I, uhm...” He paused, then muttered, “Good night, Eames.”

As he launched himself off the couch, she nodded, in agreement or understanding; he wasn't sure which. “Good night, Bobby.”

Once in the bedroom, he closed the door and turned off the light, walking to the window, which he opened. He pulled off his shirt, then stood looking out into the darkness. His body was on fire and there was no way he was going to calm down enough to sleep anytime soon. So he stood there, looking out into the semi-darkness.

A short while later, a soft knock disrupted his thoughts. He turned at the waist as she entered. She watched his silhouette at the window for a few moments before approaching him, before reaching out to touch him. Her fingertips trailed along his collarbone, then down the center of his chest. “I want you,” she whispered.

At first, he didn't move, but when he did, there was no hesitation. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her with a desperation driven by desire and need. She responded with equal lust. Long-suppressed emotions exploded forth in a maelstrom neither could control. Driven by a need for each other, they also found tenderness, compassion, and something very close to love. For the first time in a long time, they both slept deeply, undisturbed by nightmares or memories.

Michael Larimer paced restlessly in the bleak interrogation room as he waited for his daughter to be brought to him. He'd spoken briefly with the squad captain, who hinted at some kind of trouble Kelly had been causing, but he said the lead detectives would go into the details with him.

When the door opened, he expected Kelly to rush into the room, but she was not with the two detectives who came through the door. “Where is my daughter?” he demanded.

Eames walked to the table, noting that Larimer did not look like a man who had completed a transatlantic flight less than twelve hours ago. He was alert and pressed, not a hair out of place. Eames motioned toward the table. “Please sit down, Mr. Larimer. I am Detective Eames, and this is my partner Detective Goren.”

“You're the ones who arrested Kelly?”

“Yes, we are. She was out of control, waving a gun at us.”

“A fake gun, from my understanding.”

“Do you have any idea how many people are shot because they came at the police with something that looked like a weapon? Real or not, we can't wait to find that out. Kelly could have been hurt or killed being foolish like that.”

“My daughter would never hurt anyone.”

“Whether that's true or not, we can't take chances.”

Larimer sat down across from her, glancing suspiciously at Goren, who stood near the mirrored glass. “Your captain said Kelly has been involved in some trouble recently. My sister-in-law told me her boyfriend was murdered at school?”

“That's right,” Eames answered. “Kelly had some involvement with the murder, but not directly. There are other issues that have concerned us more.”

“Such as?”

“Your wife's sister told us that Kelly was sent here because of boyfriend troubles in London.”

“That's partly true. Kelly was involved with an older man and one of the reasons we sent her here was to get her away from him.”

“Mr. Larimer, your daughter is not as innocent as you might think she is. In fact, she has become quite fixated on my partner, to the point of stalking him.”

Larimer's icy gaze shifted to Goren. “What did you do to her?”

Goren looked surprised. “Do to her? Nothing. I've gone to lengths to avoid her.”

Eames's glare was as cold as the ambassador's. “Kelly hacked into several restricted databases using your passcodes, and she found out personal information about my partner that she had no business with. She used that information to attempt to cause problems for him, and since she showed up at his apartment, he was forced to leave his home to avoid her. Your daughter has gotten out of hand.”

Larimer remained stoically impassive. “What are the charges against her?”

“Harassment, gaining illegal access to restricted databases, attempted assault with a deadly weapon...”

“A deadly weapon?”

“If it had been real, Mr. Larimer, there would be no 'attempted' in the charge. Kelly knew we would think it was real until we got it away from her. She trusted that we wouldn't hurt her, which was a huge gamble on her part. Most other cops would have fired first, and your daughter would be dead.”

Her last sentence made an impact. The ambassador finally looked disturbed. “I would like to see my daughter,” he said firmly.

Eames glanced at Goren, who stepped away from the wall. She got up and walked to the door. As he held the door open for her, Goren turned back into the room. “One more thing, Ambassador. We could talk to the DA. There is a chance we might talk him into a plea bargain that involves time served and probation if you take her back to England with you and she stays out of trouble. Just something to think about.”

In the hallway, Eames said, “I'll go get Kelly.”

Goren nodded and joined Deakins in the observation room, waiting for Kelly to be brought to her father.

When the door to the holding area opened, Kelly looked up from where she was laying on the cot in her cell. She frowned when Eames came into the room and approached her. “Come on, Kelly.”

“Where is Detective Goren?”

“He's not here. Now come on. Someone else is here to see you.”

Curiosity got the better of petulance, and Kelly let Eames guide her to the interrogation room where her visitor was waiting. She stopped just inside the door, and stared at her father. Deakins and his detectives were treated to a sudden transformation as Kelly the sex kitten became Daddy's little girl. “Daddy!”

She ran to her father and cried in his arms, explaining through her sobs how frightened she'd been. Eames looked at the one-way glass and rolled her eyes. Then she moved to sit across from them. “As you can see, Ambassador, your daughter is fine. But we will have to process her today for the charges against her.”

Kelly pointed at Eames. “Daddy, I don't like her. I've asked her and asked her to let me see Detective Goren and she won't!”

Larimer frowned. “Why would you want to see him, Kelly?”

She bit her lower lip. “I like him, Daddy.”

The ambassador let out a slow, patient breath. “Is this another scenario like we went through with Nigel?”

“Oh, he's much better than Nigel was.”

“Kelly...” He sighed again. “Did you stalk the man?”

Kelly looked at the floor. “I went to his apartment a couple of times, but he wasn't there most of the time. He was with her.”

“That is his business, Kelly. He discouraged you and that was the right thing to do. I agree that he's a better man than Nigel. He didn't take advantage of you.” He looked at Eames. “Take her back to her cell, detective, and bring me to see your DA.”

Kelly watched him stand and she sobbed, “Daddy...”

Larimer's face was grim. “You have brought this all on yourself, Kelly. I'll be back this afternoon. You get it set in your head that you are either coming home with me or you are going to jail. There are no other alternatives.” He kissed her head. “I love you.”

With another sob, Kelly left the room with Eames and Goren returned. Larimer looked at him. “I meant what I said, detective. Kelly has an unfortunate attraction to men who are older than she is, and many of them don't have the decency to turn her away. Thank you for not taking advantage of my daughter.”

Goren smiled sympathetically. “Kelly is very persistent, but I don't date children, ambassador.”

“Good for you. Now, if we can talk to the DA and get this situation all squared away, I would appreciate it.”

“This way, sir.”

They met Eames in the squad room and left to talk with Carver.

The detectives entered Carver's office as the ADA rose from his desk. “Detectives, I was just going to call you.”

Eames motioned toward Larimer. “Mr. Carver, this is Michael Larimer, the U.S. Ambassador to the United Kingdom. He is Kelly Larimer's father.”

Carver extended his hand. “The detectives told me you were flying in to discuss a possible plea bargain for your daughter.”

Larimer nodded as he shook Carver's hand and got to business. “I would like to take Kelly home with me. I can assure you, her behavior will not go unpunished.”

“Legally, ambassador, your daughter is an adult.”

“But she is still my daughter, and she will do as I say.”

Carver leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. “I am prepared to agree to a plea, but I will be crystal clear on this: if Kelly returns to New York and causes any trouble at all, she will find herself in jail, serving time for the charges that have been brought against her.”

“I understand that, Mr. Carver.”

“I will offer five years' probation provided you take her home with you and she does not return to New York during that time. After those five years, if Kelly meets all the provisions of her probation, the charges will be dismissed. If she fails to meet the requirements, or if she returns to New York, she will serve her full sentence of ten years.”

Slowly, Larimer nodded. “My daughter has gotten out of control during the time she has been here and for that, I apologize. At home, she was never like this. We decided to send her back to the States when my wife became ill, to ease the burden on her. That decision backfired on us, and my wife's health has taken a turn for the worse from this stress. It will be to her benefit for Kelly to be at home again.”

“Your daughter must agree to the terms, Ambassador.”

“I'm certain she will.”

“Very well. I will draw them up and have them ready this afternoon, say, at three o'clock.”

“Thank you very much. I'll be back then. In the meantime, I'll be either in my hotel room or at the British Consulate.”

He left the room, and Carver turned to the detectives. “I had an interesting visit from Mr. Lassiter first thing this morning.”

Eames made a face. “He's not someone I would want to face first thing in the morning.”

Carver smiled. “He wants to talk plea.”

Goren remained leaning against the wall by the window, arms crossed. “What are you willing to offer?”

“Manslaughter with twelve to twenty, no parole consideration until ten. Otherwise, he's looking at a likely conviction with 25 to life, no parole.”

“Hmpf,” Eames muttered. “He's arrogant enough that I would have expected him to go to trial.”

“He normally would,” Goren answered. “But this is one client he actually cares about. This is his son, and he wants to cut him the best possible deal.”

Carver nodded in agreement. “Exactly. This is the first time Mr. Lassiter has come forward actively seeking a plea.”

“He's not confident enough of a win to take a chance,” Goren added.

Eames asked her next question, knowing the answer. “What did he say?”

“He's going to take the plea. It's more than fair.”

“Considering he was up for murder one, I'd say it's more than fair,” she pointed out.

Goren uncrossed his arms and stepped away from the wall. “Time will tell what will become of Roger.”

“What do you think?”

He met her eyes and gave it some thought. “It's hard to say. His father's influence turned him into a killer, but there's more to him than that. If he gets assigned to Riker's or Sing Sing, he'll have a hard time. A smaller prison with a less violent population could actually be good for him.”

Eames sensed a deeper reason for his optimism, but she didn't push him. She held out hope that he would discuss it with her later.

Carver nodded. “I'll see what I can do about getting him assigned to a facility with a less hardened population.”

The detective left the prosecutor's office and returned to the squad room to finish up their paperwork on the case. The only loose end they had left was Kelly. They would transport her to Carver's office at three and, hopefully, she would be on a plane for London with her father within the next day or so, after taking care of school and hopefully apologizing to her aunt and uncle.

At quarter til three, Eames went to the holding area with two uniformed officers who would transport Kelly to Carver's office. She and Goren got there just ahead of them, greeting the ambassador, who was early.

The ambassador was seated at the table in front of the desk, with Goren and Eames standing behind him near the window when Kelly was escorted in. Her face lit up to see Goren in the room. Then she saw her father's face, and she tried to hide her delight. She sat across from him and Carver, beside the lawyer her father had hired for her. As Carver went over the details of the plea agreement, Kelly's attention kept shifting from her father, to Goren, to Eames and back. Finally, Carver set down the papers he was holding and said, “Do you understand the terms of this agreement, Miss Larimer?”

“Yes,” she lied.

“You understand that you cannot come back to New York for the duration of your probation. That's five years.”

She looked surprised for a moment, then her lawyer leaned over to speak into her ear. She looked at her father, who nodded. Pursing her lips into a pout, she said, “All right. Whatever. I agree.”

Carver's voice was stern. “Follow your father's advice, Miss Larimer, and stay out of trouble or we will withdraw this agreement and you will serve your full sentence.”

He turned his attention to Larimer. Kelly was asked to sign several papers, along with her lawyer, and then her father signed one. Carver leaned back in his chair. “That will do it. The officers can release Kelly into your custody, Ambassador.”

Eames said, “We have some papers for you to sign, Ambassador.”

She stepped forward with a folder and leaned over to review the paperwork with Larimer. While she did that, Kelly watched Goren, who was deliberately tuning in to his partner and not looking at Kelly. Once the ambassador had signed the forms, Eames closed the folder and stepped back. “Good luck, Ambassador.” She looked at Kelly. “I hope things work out for you, Kelly. This is a big break you're getting.”

She gave Alex a look that conveyed jealousy and disapproval. She looked at Goren, who finally gave her a nod. “Good-bye, Kelly.”

She watched him walk to the door with his partner, placing a light hand on her back as he guided her through the door ahead of him. Kelly frowned and her father shook his head. “Come on, Kelly. We'll sign you out of school tomorrow and you can say good-bye to your friends. We have a flight the next morning.” He looked at Carver. “Thank you, Mr. Carver.”

“Good luck to you, Ambassador.”

Back at the squad room, Alex filed the papers with the rest of their case paperwork and brought the entire stack to Deakins. When she returned, she said, “Let's get out of here. We're done with this case.”

She stopped with a frown when she saw his expression as he read the note he held in his hand. “What is it?” she asked.

He handed the note to her. It was written in a loopy but elegant script. Dear Detectives, I find myself at a loss in finding the right words to express my gratitude to you. I feel so differently about everything in life since I left Steven. I am going to stay with my sister while I regain my bearings and get on my feet. I can never thank you enough for giving my life back to me. Marcy Lassiter

She folded the note along its crease and handed it back to him. He slipped it into his desk drawer. “Let's get going,” he said, suddenly anxious for fresh air.

Eames remained silent until she pulled out of the parking garage. “So, what are your plans for tonight?” she asked.

“How about dinner at my place?”

She smiled. “That sounds like a plan.”

As she drove over the Brooklyn Bridge, she said, “Can I ask you something?”

He hesitated before cautiously answering, “Go ahead.”

“You seem to have a deeper understanding, a sensitivity toward Roger. Where did that come from?”

He looked out the window, then down at the binder in his lap. Finally, he answered, “Roger had a tough upbringing. His father is overbearing and abusive, and his mother is quiet and accepting. He lived a dichotomous life, being strong in front of his father and sensitive when he was alone with his mother. But his father had no tolerance for weakness, and that was what ultimately drove Roger to kill. He would rather eliminate the competition than lose to him and have to face his father. I don't think that Roger is innately a killer. I think that he can still turn out right, if he spends his time in a less intimidating prison. Rikers or Sing Sing will destroy him, and I think that would be a loss.”

“Where does this deeper understanding come from?” she asked, pushing for a more personal answer.

He didn't answer right away. They had left the bridge behind before he said, “It comes from the past, from my own childhood. I know what it's like to be willing to do anything to get your father's approval. I know what it's like to step into the line of fire to protect your mother. And I know how it feels when everything falls apart around you, the helplessness you feel when there's nothing you can do. Maybe Roger is too badly damaged to change. I once was, too. But I overcame that, and I think he can, if he wants to. Only time will tell.”

She knew his father had been a poor role model, but she wanted to know more. “Was your father abusive?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “They...they both were, but for different reasons. With my mother, it was her illness. When she was lucid, she was a good mother. But the schizophrenia robbed her of that much of the time. It took me a long time, but I was finally able to forgive her. Now...I accept what happened, and I take care of her, protect her. I'm all she has. My father had no tolerance for my mother. He had no sense of fidelity or responsibility. He abandoned her when she needed him most.”

When he didn't continue, she asked, “And what about you?”

He shrugged. “Frank was his favorite, his protege. I was an annoyance. And as I got older, I learned to hate him. I don't like that I do, but I can't help it.”

She gripped the steering wheel to keep from reaching out to touch him, sensing that it would be the wrong thing to do. The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

Goren made salisbury steak with a beef mushroom sauce, mashed potatoes and green beans. He set the plates on the table and pulled the wine bottle from the refrigerator, where it had been chilling since they got home. Eames set two wine glasses on the table as he uncorked the bottle. He looked up after freeing the cork and said, “Can I ask you a question, Eames?”

Fair was fair. She nodded. “Go ahead.”

He hesitated for a moment before he asked, “When you were with Joe, did you have a feeling of...of rightness?”

His question caught her offguard. “Yes. I did.”

“It must have been...hard, to lose that.”

“It was very hard. I never found that again...until now.”

She saw wonder in his eyes as he reached out to her. His fingers grazed her cheek, brushed past her ear into her hair. His breathing quickened and she leaned closer, meeting his mouth for a kiss. When she drew back, she smiled warmly. “Come on, hotshot,” she whispered. “Let's eat before it gets cold.”

fin.