She didn't really know why she had come there.

Despite her quick escape from her so called date, she wasn't ready to go home. She knew if she did she would just start retracing everything that had gone wrong the day before, like she knew he was already doing.

So there she stood with her fist hovering just above Goren's door, daring herself to knock.

She sighed and silently berated herself for her nerves before tapping her fist to the wooded door.

He appeared in front of her after a few seconds, wearing remnants of the suit he had on earlier; black slacks and a blue button down un-tucked and with the top few buttons loose.

"Eames?" he asked. "W-what are you doing here?"

He barely got the last word out before noticing her knee length black dress. It was sleeveless with a V in the front and back.

"Believe it or not I was in the neighborhood."

"You…you look—"

"Oh. Right. I had a date…and it wasn't going well so…"

"Okay…but are you all right?"

Eames sighed. "I keep thinking about yesterday and…"

"Yeah, me too," Goren said. "Come in."

She followed him into the living room and saw three empty beer bottles on an end table next to an overstuffed chair.

"Started the party without me?" Eames asked.

"Well if I had known," he replied. "Do you want one?"


Goren retrieved the two bottles and passed one to Eames. She sat at one end of the sofa, while he cautiously sat at the opposite.

Both took sips of their beers and stared at nothing in particular in silence.

From the corner of his eyes he watched her ring her hands and her knuckles tighten together. He didn't understand why she seemed so uncomfortable. They had tough cases before and on occasion they even went out for drinks afterwards. Since her return from maternity leave those occasions had become more frequent and they had even started to share dinners off duty a couple times a week.

"There's nothing we could have done," Eames said, slightly turning to catch his eyes.

"I pushed him too far…he wouldn't have—"

"He was guilty."

"He was a messed up kid. He didn't premeditate killing his mother."

"But he did premeditate covering it up and he got caught."

"And he got scared…" Goren sat forward and rubbed his face in his hands. "I should have seen—"

"Bobby, this is not your fault," she said and slid closer to his side of the sofa. "He pulled the trigger, not you."

"I tried to talk him down…"

She put a soft hand on his rough cheek and turned his eyes to hers.

"You can't help everyone."

She didn't remove her hand, nor did he pull away as her thumb stroked his cheek bone. Their eyes were locked with apprehension and want.

She was the one who pulled his lips to hers, but he was the one who parted her lips to explore her mouth and twined his fingers in her hair.

Eames pulled back. "Oh, God."

She scrambled to her feet and retreated toward the door.

"Eames!" Goren called after her as he got to his feet. "Wait."

He planted his palms against the door and surrounded her.

"Let me go' Bobby."

"You kissed me."

"Your powers of observation are astounding."

"Why'd you really come here?"

Eames shook her head, and then moved to go under his arm. She was stilled by his hand spreading across her stomach and they both felt the slight shudder that went through her.

"I told you."

"Eames," his voice was soft yet persistent.

She sighed, and then shrugged. "I don't know. I was eating dinner with Pete and…and it just wasn't right."

"What wasn't right?"

She rolled her eyes and looked down at his hand. "Do you mind?"

Goren placed this hand back against the door and she leaned her head on it, staring at the cracks in his ceiling.

She let out a deep breath.

"When I started…dating again, after Joe died, I would always compare whoever I was with to him. How they laughed…or told a joke…the…the way they held a fucking fork. But now I notice the look they get when they're thinking or…how graceful they are when they talk with their hands and…and I'm not comparing them to Joe anymore."

Eames looked up at eyes that were soft and thoughtful.

Goren slid his hands away from the door.

His left fingers hovered over her cheek and then lightly traced the bone to her jaw, until he cradled her neck in his palm. He leaned in closer.

"You know we can't go back now," he said.

He fitted his lips to hers before she could respond. His lips were full, soft, and warm and she couldn't stifle the soft gasp that ran from her tongue to his. She stood as tall as she could and locked her arms around his neck.

His lips traveled down her neck as his hands made the journey down her sides and ended at her thighs. He hoisted her up to his height and she hooked her legs around his waist.

She snaked fingers through his hair and nipped at his cheek and ear. As his hands traveled up her thighs, she groaned against his temple and arched her pelvis into his, forcing a shuddering sigh from his lips to her shoulder.

"Bobby…" she panted into his ear.

"I know."

He tightened his grip on her and carried her to his bed.

He hovered above her and glided his finger along the neckline of her dress as he watched her. She put her fingers to work on the buttons of his shirt, but then caught sight of his eyes. They were warm but distant.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He shook his head. "You're sure about this?"

"You ask me that now?" she asked. "Are you?"

He nodded. "Y-yes."

He leaned over her and pressed his lips into hers. They hurriedly disposed of each other's clothes and began to taste and explore.

Goren traveled the path of her torso; kissing, drawing, memorizing. He made note of her responses, the freckles on her arms, the mole on her left hip, and the small scar on her right knee. He breathed kisses onto her inner thigh and she reached for him to come back to her.

She shuddered as he slid into her and they quickly found a rhythm that was tortuous but soft. They matched each other step for step and took inventory of every gasp, groan, or moan that escaped the other.

He felt her tightening around him and they collapsed into the other.

His face was buried in the crook of her neck as he took in their smell: honeysuckle, the musk of his cologne, the faint citrus in her hair, and sweat.

Her fingers combed through this hair as she kissed his temple and felt his nose against her neck.

She laughed softly. "You're smelling me aren't you?"

He smiled against her skin.

"It's a nice smell."