Detective Robert Goren sat his desk, typing, amazed as always, how months of endless research and planning could lead up to one moment of vindication. The moment passes; verdicts are read and congratulations and thanks are extended, then it's back to the office to fill out the never-ending mounds of paperwork. Rubbing his tired eyes, he glanced over to the clock. Three in the morning? Rubbing a hand roughly over his face, Bobby silently hoped he didn't look as bad as he felt."Well, maybe you should go home, Detective," said a voice from behind.

Bobby nearly covered his start, but not the stuttering of his heart. "Hey, Captain." He drew a quick calming breath. "I could say the same thing to you. It's three o'clock in the morning."

But the captain stood there and said nothing. Danny Ross stood, with his hands in his pockets, and a wry smile on his face. Finally he said, And your reason for still being here is…?"

"You know how it is; there's no point going home now." Forty-five minutes to get home, then an hour of tossing and turning...

Ross smiled wistfully, "There's always a point in going home, detective." Even now that he was divorced and the boys rarely stayed the night, there was still a point in going home.

Bobby watched the man saunter out, hands in pant pockets. Just before Ross turned the corner to the elevators, he yelled back over his shoulder. "Go home, detective. Go home."

After catching himself dozing a third time, he stood, and decided to take a walk. Once outside, the crisp March night air revived his spirit and re-energized his thinking. A little colder than I thought, he said to himself as he paced in front of the nearly dark entrance of 1PP. He decided a brisk walk to warm up was called for. There was a small park nearby, and found his favorite bench thankfully free of transients. Letting the cool air wash over him, he watched clouds drifting across the moon, a few cars speeding by, and even a few late revelers staggering home.

As his eyes drifted over the park, he spotted movement on the far side of the park. A lone figure stepped out of the shadow of a tree as a long black car limo drove up and stopped. Man, I hope this is just a guy waiting for his ride. But he suspected darker motives. Deciding it would attract less attention to stay where he was than race for cover to observe the scene playing out before him, he stayed seated on his favorite bench.

Under the dim light of a nearby street lamp, the man stood still at the curb with his hands at his sides. He seemed hesitant and nervous. He stiffly bent to speak through the partially open window. The passenger doors opened, and two men stepped out. One had hair almost as pale as his skin in the moonlight; the other had dark hair. The first man reached slowly into his jacket, pulling out a slip of paper. Bobby watched the dark-haired man closely as he snatched the paper out of the other's hand. Dark Hair nodded to White Hair, and the trunk came open. White Hair held a flashlight, shining it inside the trunk.

Scanning the park once again, Bobby stood and moved slowly to the nearest tree, thankful that the moon was setting, making him less noticeable. Laying stiff, now cold fingers against the rough bark, he closed his eyes to concentrate on their voices. However, they either said nothing or he wasn't close enough to hear. He assumed the former concluding that the transaction continued silently. Opening his eyes, he watched as a duffle bag was lifted from the trunk. Bobby thought suddenly, Why am I here? I don't need more paperwork. What the hell is going on here? But curiosity kept him rooted in place.

Dark Hair held out the duffle to the first man, letting it slip from his fingers. Don't fall for it! Bobby silently warned. Even though it was cliché, it was still effective. White Hair came up behind the kneeling man, clipping him just below the ear. He went down, but was still conscious.

Bobby reached for his weapon, still not sure what was going on with this odd meeting in the dark. Then, from the open door of the car, a female figure appeared briefly and her laughter drifted out. "... I got it all!" she triumphantly said, as the Dark Hair and White Hair raised the other man off his knees. He rubbed his head. "Not so hard next time..."

Then man with white hair briefly stared in the direction of Bobby's hiding spot. He can't see me, right? But there was something about his manner that made the detective shudder. Finally, he turned his attention to his friends who were now laughing. "No one saw us, man," someone said. "Don't worry about it." Climbing into the car, they sped away.

Cursing himself for watching this piece of bad melodrama, the agent took a deep breath and leaned against the tree, filing the whole scene away in the back of his mind. Gazing up at the lightening sky, he sighed heavily before walking back towards the office with a new resolve to finish his paperwork. He wasn't sure he'd share this incident with anyone.

#######

Alex Eames came into the office building, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She felt triumphant, invincible. She'd spent the previous evening taking care of her nephew and he'd deemed her his 'favorite aunt'. Stopping to lean a hip on her partner's desk, she said loudly, "Mornin', Detective Goren!"

No response. He sure is cute when he's asleep. She then immediately banished the thought from her mind and her memory. Reaching over to give him a gentle shake, she said quietly, "Bobby, you should wake up now." This time, a low moan was her answer.

After another moment, his eyelids fluttered. He began to stir slowly, working out the kink in his neck. "What time is it?"

"Later than you think, Bobby." Alex sat on the edge of the desk. "You know, this is, like, the third time I've found you like this. Did you get evicted or something?" When he blushed, she gave him a knowing smile and a pat on the back. "Was all that paperwork really so important?"

Bobby scrubbed his hands over his pale face, and up through his hair. "Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time." He glanced quickly around the office. No one here just yet. In that case...

"Yes, you have time to go upstairs and grab a shower." Alex said as she moved away from the desk. "Shirt's in the bottom drawer, and ties are…"

"I know, I know..." He tried avoiding her searching eyes. "I know where everything else is too," he said to answer her unsaid statement. "And, no, I haven't looked in a mirror lately."

She gave a quick laugh. "Are you reading my mind?" Moving away, Alex glanced around the office. "Well, your secret's safe with me. I'll make some coffee. And," she began, pointing at his chosen tie. "Don't ever wear that tie again. In fact, throw it away." Then she marched towards the small break room, laughing.

"What? This tie?" Bobbyn tried to look hurt as she berated his fat, outdated tie. "I thought maybe it would make a come back. It's nowhere near as bad as Logan's plaid ones."

"I agree, Bobby. Get rid of it." Wheeler popped up behind him to put in her two cents. Neither of them had noticed Wheeler dome in. "For that matter, it's really time for a new pair of shoes. But I agree with you about Logan's plaid ties." She gave a lopsided smile, and a wink then walked quickly to her desk.

"Is this 'smackdown on Bobby day'?" He threw the tie back into the drawer, and pulled out another, along with an electric razor. Once safely upstairs in the locker room he shook out the neatly folded and pressed shirt. Gotta get to the cleaners, he thought absently. As he took off the shirt he was wearing, Bobby noticed his reflection. Wow, I guess I do look bad. A shadowed, unshaven face, and a sad smile gazed back at him. Splashing very cold water on his face, he dried and shaved quickly. A few minutes later, fully dressed, he tightened his tie and smoothed out his hair. One last glance in the mirror showed the same pale, tired face; only now, at least, it was shaven.

#######

Bobby took a deep breath, ready for the beating he would take from the Captain. When he returned to his desk, he found a hot cup of coffee and a glazed doughnut. Where did she find it? Another cliché, but a tasty one.

As he took a sip and a bite, Danny Ross breezed past him. "Detective Goren, I'm looking forward to your report. Where's your partner?" Bobby gave a little smile, wondering why he was so nervous. The bust went off without a single hitch. The paperwork mostly finished. There was nothing to worry about. Maybe somebody will get a pay grade increase out of this.

Entering the small conference room, he took several deep breaths. Ross was a very intense, direct person; there would be no mincing of words. He gestured to the two detectives to take chairs. "Both the DA's office and the Chief are very impressed with your work on this one detectives. McCoy says they have a solid case, and should have no problem convicting DeMarco and his accomplices. Nice job."

Well, that wasn't so bad. "Thank you, sir. Eames found the last piece of evidence that led us to put everything together." Was that enough? He ran through his memory for any other details. He remembered everything about the case from the beginning. The tip, the follow-up, and the endless hours researching the paper trail. And one pesky little weapon that started it all. As the entire library of information flashed through his memory, Bobby closed his eyes as the headache bloomed behind his eyes. When he opened them, he saw the Captain staring at him with a strange expression on his face.

Twitching his brows together, Ross folded his hands, placing them on the desk. "Just one more thing," he said quietly.

Bobby's heart stuttered. What now? "Ask away, sir," he said, unsure of the outcome.

Not often did he express any outward emotion, other than the utmost control. "I'm just wondering when the last time you slept was?"

Bobby moved among the crowds, lost in thought. Now that this one case was finished, he could think about other things. He did wonder if what he saw earlier today was a hoax or not. Imagination failed him regarding the reasons for such a stunt. As he wandered off the train platform, he absently climbed the stair leading to the street, fantasizing about his bed and fluffy pillows. Then he suddenly stopped.

There on the front page of today’s newspaper: Senator’s Daughter Missing. Like a magnet, he came forward to the newsstand next to the subway entrance. Staring at the picture, he saw Senator Martin Bennett, his wife, Marguerite, and according to the caption, Paige Bennett’s long-time boyfriend, Kevin Kern. A white-haired man stood further in the background, identified only as a ‘close friend of the family.’ “I know you,” Bobby muttered under his breath. The first guy I couldn’t see, but you...

“Hey, pal! This ain’t no library!” The newsstand operator shouted.

Quickly digging in his pockets for change, he purchased the newspaper, along with all the other local papers, to read each slightly different account. Reading as he walked, he miraculously avoided bumping into anyone. Finally reaching his building, he awkwardly juggled newspapers and files as he opened the door to his apartment. He shoved aside stacks of books and files to make room for the new additions he carried.

Loosening his tie, he flopped into the nearest chair as he swung his legs up onto the coffee table, finishing one of the articles. Picking up one newspaper after another, until he finished reading all the articles. Resting his chin in his hand, he stared out the window. “That’s not what I saw at all,” he said aloud to the dying plant near the window.

Should I call someone? Later. What if it is a scam? What if it’s not? Does it have anything to do with what he saw? Was the girl in the car the senator’s daughter? Closing his eyes, he shoved aside the headache that had been plaguing him for days, replaying everything he had seen in the wee small hours of the morning.

When he opened them again, his apartment was very dark. After a moment’s disorientation, he searched for a clock. I have to set the DVD clock, he thought briefly. He wandered into his dark bedroom, glancing at the illuminated alarm clock next to his untouched bed. Maybe I’ll talk to Eames first. Is she home? Should I call first? He reached for the light, then the telephone, immediately dialing her number.

“Hey, Eames. It’s Goren,” he said when she answered. “Would you mind if I came over? I need to talk to you about something. Something I saw.”

After a heartbeat’s pause, she agreed. “Are you hungry? I’ll order a pizza or something.”

“Sure, see you soon.” He hung up before she could say a word.

#####

Thirty minutes later, Bobby arrived on her doorstep. When Alex opened the door, she was a little surprised at the ghostly specter standing there, with newspapers under his arm. “What happened to you?” she asked as he quietly stepped inside. “You did go home, right? What…”

He raised his hand to stop her questions. “It doesn’t matter right now.” Shoving the small stack of newspapers into her hands, he climbed the stairs slowly. “I think I may have seen something related to those articles.”

Alex looked over the headlines, shuffling the newspapers. “Really?” When he didn’t answer, she raised her eyes from the paper. He was pacing her living room, arms folded tightly across his chest. “Why don’t you sit down before you fall down,” she scolded. She watched as he sat down stiffly, glaring at her. “So, what do you need to tell me about?”

“Well, I think I saw the kidnapping. Actually, I’m not sure what I saw. But something happened in the park this morning.” He rubbed his hand across his face then through his hair. “I just need to talk it out a little, I need a little clarity.”

Alex sat down next to him, placing the newspapers between them. “What you need is a little sleep,” she said directly. The doorbell chimed; she rose, hand on hip. “Food’s here. I’ll be right back. Take off your coat. Relax, okay?”

When she returned, he hadn’t removed his coat, and his head was tilted back, resting on the sofa back, his arms loosely at his sides. Asleep? “Hope you like sausage and pepperoni,” she called out.

“I’m not hungry. But thanks.” He leaned forward, putting his head in his hands.

Alex brought him a slice anyway. “One bite, and I’ll tell you what I know about this case,” she teased.

Bobby raised his head, then his brows. “What? You know something? What do you know?”

She smiled sweetly, as she shook her head. “One bite,” she said as she bit into her own slice.

Although food was the farthest thing from his mind, Bobby did as he instructed. His stomach warned him against further mutiny. “Okay, tell me what you know,” he said quietly, placing the uneaten portion back on the plate.

Alex watched him closely; she didn’t think it was possible for him to become even paler. “While you were supposed to be at home asleep, Ross had me question the boyfriend.”

“I’ve been replaying everything I saw this morning, but I can’t come up with anything that would lead us anywhere.”

She stood, taking the plates to the kitchen. “Maybe you’re trying too hard. Seeing it so much, you’re making yourself crazy.”

A low groan came from his direction; his throbbing head was about to incapacitate him. Maybe you’re right. “I just can’t think too clearly right now.” He rose, pulling his coat tight around his body. “It’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, half-heartedly waving to her back. Gotta go to sleep... Stumbling away, his vision started to darken.

Alex caught him before he fell down the stairs. “You’re not going anywhere, mister.” Placing his arm around her shoulders, she guided him back to the sofa.

“Wha–? Where’re we goin’?” he asked groggily.

“You are going to sleep right here. I’ve heard of people being asleep on their feet, but I’ve never actually seen it until now.” She let him slip from her arms down to the sofa. Removing his coat with only a little resistance, she threw it in the direction of the nearest chair. Placing a pillow under his head, Alex yanked off his shoes, instructing him to lie down when he tried to rise.

“Moving a little fast, aren’t we?” Bobby was a little breathless. “You know, I’m not that kind of guy.”

She laughed, despite her concern. “That’s not what I’ve heard.” She tried not to look at his pale skin, or his flushed cheeks.

“Do not,” Bobby pointed severely, “believe anything that Jamison tells you.” A sudden shiver traveled through his body. He closed his eyes as a spike went through his head. Feeling a warm hand on his cheek, he opened them.

Twitching her brows together, she looked into his glazed brown eyes. “I know,” she said quietly, smiling down at him. Alex reached over and felt his forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

As he curled into a tight ball, Bobby watched her run to another room. She returned with a thick blanket, which she tucked all around him. He closed his eyes; the shivering subsided. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Really.”

She tsked at him. “Yes, I can see that. Don’t pass out on me before I get back with some water and aspirin.”

I am dreaming, right? The falling dream was a common one, it usually occurred when he was exhausted. Was it his imagination, or could he sense Eames reading his thoughts? Imagination, I’m sure. Now he sat in a dusty corner of an empty building. A garage? Somewhere, a door slammed, echoing through the empty space. His heart leapt into his throat, and he stood, pressing his body further into the corner. Footsteps sounded and echoed, slowly approaching him. It was dark now; he was getting cold. Maybe I should go home now, he thought frantically. The slow footsteps stopped just beyond his vision.

“Hello?” That wasn’t his voice! At least not for many years. And this wasn’t a dream – it was a memory. Now, Bobby definitely did not like where this was headed. He tried to wake up, but the footsteps began again, moving closer. A door. There’s a door to my left. He moved quickly in that direction only to feel his body being lifted into the air. Someone held him tightly as they ran for the door. Then the sound of the door opening, the door to the basement. The last thing he saw was a shadowy figure as the light was turned off from the outside and the door slowly swung shut. The key turning in the lock, scraping louder than his screams.

Bobby sat bolt upright, clutching the blanket that imprisoned him. Throwing the blanket off, he swung his long legs off the couch, planting his feet on the cool wood floor. After taking several deep breaths, he drew his knees up under his chin, hugging them tightly. He had not thought of that day in a very long time.

Oh, great. No, I do not want to talk about it. Let it be Eames, please.

“I… I forgot to bring more aspirin.”

Bobby reached over with unsteady hands, snatching the two tablets off the table, and drained the glass of water. After a moment, he pushed his hands through already unruly hair. He lay back down, staring at the ceiling until sleep claimed him once again.

Alex awoke to the glorious smell of fresh brewed coffee. Bouncing out of bed, she left her room in search of the caffeinated pleasure. “Hello?” she called out.

Bobby peeked out of the kitchen. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.” He was fully dressed, and cleaning her kitchen. “You have more gadgets than a department store.”

“I see you found a coffee maker.” She leaned against the counter, staring at his steaming mug hungrily.

He slit his weary green eyes suspiciously at her. “Didn’t even know you had one, did you?” Smiling, he poured a mug for her.

Over the rim, she watched him closely. Still so pale, and he seemed content to avoid all references to last night. “That by far, is the fanciest beverage-making machine I have ever seen. Just when I didn’t think it would talk to me, it did!” He feigned a round-eyed look of astonishment.

Eames playfully slapped him on the shoulder. She set the mug down, then hopped on a stool. “You coming in today?” She was really hoping he would give her a story about lounging around the house or something.

Bobby gave an unsure smile. “Of course. Why not?” He carefully folded a towel, laying it gently on the counter. “I know I’m supposed to stay home, or whatever. But I figure someone should know about what I saw yesterday.” Looking directly at Eames, he now wore a bemused expression. “Thanks for your help last night. I was a little out of it. I’m not sure what would’ve happened if I was on my own.” He pushed away a thought from a similar night years ago.

She reached over, grabbing his hand. “Anytime, Detective Goren. But, you could use some food and a whole lot of sleep. Why…” She was interrupted by her phone. Giving his hand a final squeeze, Eames answered the ringing phone. “Hello, Captain. Nope, I wasn’t asleep.” Listening intently, she slid from the stool and began pacing in a slow circle. “Really? FBI. huh?” She bit her lip, glancing up at Bobby. “Goren may have some information to share with them...” Her eyes widened, flicking from her companion to the floor and back.

She is so about to lie, Bobby realized, thinking about other times she’d lied. Yep, same thing.

“As far as I know, he was staying home. I could give him a call… Okay. See you then.” She closed her phone with a snap. “Shower?”

He laughed out loud, shaking his head. “You’re kidding, right? You didn’t hear anything this morning?” At her negative head shake, he continued. “I even washed my clothes. Used your hair dryer. Knocked over all those pretty things around your sink... Searched for coffee? And you heard nothing?”

The female detective twitched her brows together, concerned. “How long have you been up?”

Bobby turned his attention towards the sink, and began washing dishes. “Ah. Well, the real question is, when did I go back to sleep. Not to worry. I’m used to this schedule.”

She knew he was right; knowing he would dodge her questions, she gave up for now. Alex jogged out of the kitchen. “Ten minutes, tops,” she yelled over her shoulder.

Bobby allowed his brows to slide upwards, as he took a sip from his mug. Thirty minimum. Don’t even pretend.

Forty-five minutes later, they walked through the entrance of One Police Plaza. As they reached their desks, Eames reluctantly allowed Bobby out of her sight while he caught up to Ross and Logan. Sitting at her empty desk. He’s right. I can’t watch him forever. I’ll never get anything done.

#####

“What’s going on? I thought for sure Goren would be staying home today. He looks terrible. Flu?” Wheeler said as she magically appeared next to Alex’s desk. Alex jumped. Am I that distracted? She never seemed to notice Wheeler until she was right next to her. “Sorry. I do that to a lot of people.”

Alex smiled sheepishly. “It’s okay. I’m just distracted.” She glanced quickly around the office. “You know that possible kidnapping yesterday?” When the detective nodded, she went on. “Bobby may have seen something.”

“And the suspect you questioned yesterday didn’t tell you anything? He was the boyfriend, right?”

Nodding, Eames confirmed, “I don’t think the boyfriend is really a suspect. He didn’t seem to know anything.” She glanced in the direction of Ross’s closed door. “Bobby wasn’t sure that his information would be of any help, but I’m glad he’s telling someone.”

Wheeler smiled thoughtfully. “I worry about him sometimes. He’s like my uncle, you know?” Then, as quietly as she entered, she drifted away towards her desk.

Alex watched her go, as Bobby returned to his desk. He sat down heavily and glanced over at Eames, who was staring into space.

Stupid headache. You know, you DO look a little crazy staring off like that. No wonder people are always looking at me a little funny.

He watched as she refocused her gaze directly at him. To his surprise, Bobby saw concern and a hint of anger shadow her face. “Yes, ma’am. I am going home,” he said before she asked. Then, “No, you don’t have to walk me home. And yes, I promise to avoid anything that looks like a kidnapping of any sort.” Throwing on his overcoat, Bobby waved his good byes and left the office.

Hesitantly, Alex let him leave alone. He looks ill. Should I follow him? Remember, he notices everything, faces especially. He is one of the hardest people to follow, you realize.

She sighed as she stood and followed him out of the building and the hope he’d be too tired to notice he was being followed. She watched him walk slowly through the small crowds of people rushing past on the sidewalk. To avoid a collision, Bobby walked into a bench. She couldn’t tell if it hurt, but it did make his progress slower.

As she rounded the corner, Alex stopped short. Bobby ducked into a deli. Waiting for him to come out, she stood at the corner as if she was waiting to cross the street and hoping he wouldn’t notice someone just standing there. He left the deli, clutching a white bag. Well, at least he’s eating, she thought, taking small comfort in that at least. Digging her hands deep into her pockets, Alex decided to follow from across the street. Glancing occasionally in his direction, she hoped he wasn’t headed for his beloved subway. It was a lot harder to follow someone on a train.

Suddenly, a dark cargo van drove up next to Bobby, obscuring her view. When the van moved forward when traffic allowed, Bobby was gone.

She tried to get closer to see it’s plates before the van got too far away. When she was half-way across the street, the light changed and the van casually pulled away. No one noticed because it was quiet. No squealing tires, no gunshots, no yelling. She watched the van, wishing she had Bobby’s memory. Late model blue cargo van, partial plate, 4Q1. The street was nearly deserted, but the few people milling around appeared to have seen.

It was going to be a long day.

#####

When he left the building, Bobby had a feeling he was being followed. Problem was, he was too tired to loose the tail. Plus, something was nagging at him. I just need a few minutes. Close my eyes. He stumbled into a bus bench in order to avoid a group of people. Although the brush with the bench didn’t really hurt, he knew it was going to leave a bruise.

Unbidden, an image of a bruise on his arm flashed into memory. A big, ugly purple blotch covering most of his upper arm. No. Let’s not go there right now, Bobby. That was a long time ago. Strangely, he felt a twinge there. Looking down, Bobby noticed he had placed his hand over the long-healed injury. Long time ago, he reminded himself again. Pushing the thought away, he straightened and lengthened his stride.

A brief bout of dizziness assaulted him, causing his heart to flutter. Maybe it’s time to eat something. He looked up, realized where he was and smiled. The deli he frequented was around the corner. A quick look to his right as he stepped inside confirmed his suspicion. Eames was following him.

“Ahh! Bob-by Goren!” The familiar accented voice greeted him from behind the counter. “What happened? You look terrible!” The short Russian man leaned forward examining the man in the oversized coat. He had become strangely attached to the boy ever since a young Sergeant Robert Goren first stepped into Tamarov's life. However, the younger man seemed to grow quieter every time he returned. Today, he was distracted, and his pallor rivaled the white counter in front of him.

“Um, hey there, Mister Tamarov. Just a little tired today. Could I get a half pastrami on sourdough?”

Tsking, the deli owner shook his head, smoothing out waxy paper with an audible slap. “You will get a whole one. And I say you have to eat it all!”

Bobby couldn’t help but smile at Mr. Tamarov's broken English. Seriously, do I look that bad? Even though the Tamarov's had been in New York for over a decade now, both Mr. and Mrs. Tamarov still spoke like the immigrants they were. Only their son Gregor, who'd only been about seven when the couple had left Russia spoke English fluently. Absently, he nodded. “Sure thing Mr. T... see ya around." He snatched the white bag off the counter, and handed over money.

Liev Tamarov waved a sturdy hand at his favorite customer. “Your money is no good today. Leave before Sofia sees you. You know how she gets around you!”

Laughing, Bobby quickly left the deli. People always wanted to take care of him. Why was that? Skip a few meals, fall asleep at your desk, come to work with a slight fever, and suddenly you’re a charity case? As he raised his head, he found the missing piece. Actually two missing pieces. Alex Eames across the street an a van slowing as it came abreast of him It pulled up alongside him, blocking him from Eames’ view. The door quietly slid open revealing the dark interior, and the distinctive barrel of a compact Walther P99. It motioned ominously for him to enter.

“If you guys need directions–” In broad daylight even! The detective’s eyes strayed from the gun to its masked owner. Those eyes. I know you...

A memory flashed of a white-haired man, and a park.

Eyes grabbed his bag, and mumbled to the dazed driver, who took off slowly to not attract attention. Another person sitting in the dark van breathed heavily as if asleep.

“Well,” a quiet voice announced from behind the mask. “It seems as if you did indeed see something the other night.”

Bobby made a move for the door, only to find himself pinned to the floor by the heavy breather. Ouch! Easy, pal. Eyes leaned forward with a dirty rag and a fat brown bottle. You gotta be kidding me! Chloroform? Who uses that anymore? Not very original. I’m gonna be so sick later.

OOO! I want more of this one! I want to know what's going on and how things turn out. Please post a new chapter soon.

Alex burst onto the eleventh floor, bolting out of the elevator, searching frantically for Captain Ross. She spotted him wandering into his office with a cup of coffee. As much as she wanted her next words to sound collected and detailed, they fell out of her mouth in a torrent.

“Eames! Please slow down!” Ross’s voice cut through her jumbled thoughts. He steered her towards his office, trying to reclaim the calm atmosphere. Leaving the door slightly ajar, the captain placed the steaming cup on his desk. “Now. Please start over...”

“Someone took him!” Eames gulped down air as she tried to appear as calm as the man before her.

"Took who?" Ross felt his heart speed up.

"Goren. I was making sure he went home and a van ... pulled up ... when it pulled away Goren was gone. There was no where else he could have gone, except into the van. They took him."

“What’s going on?” Logan appeared, standing behind her. Alex spun around to challenge the new voice in the room.

While Ross sipped at his coffee, his thoughts were flying. “So there was something to his report this morning,” he stated tersely.

Closing her eyes, she took another deep calming breath. “Something? No, it has everything to do with his report... with the kidnapping. He must have been seen after all.” The air in Ross’s office finally stilled enough for Alex to collect her thoughts. “It was a dark blue van, maybe black, blocked my view of Bobby. Partial plate 4Q1 When the van pulled away – Goren was gone. But the man in the passenger seat… it was one of the men in the picture from the newspaper.”

“In the newspaper?” Ross thoughtfully pressed a thumb under his chin.

Alex shuffled her feet. “Last night, Bobby brought over a stack of newspapers. Most had the same picture, except one–”

Ross was on his feet, moving quickly to the door. “Wheeler! I need yesterday’s papers.”

“Which ones, Boss?” She asked as she walked towards the office.

“All of them,” he said over his shoulder. Before the door closed, Wheeler entered right behind him. Ross raised his brows in surprise. “That was fast.”

She glanced at the rumpled stack. “ Recycle bin.” She turned to leave. As she did, Ross said, "Wheeler, you and Logan stay."

Flipping through each paper, Ross let them fall on his desk. The next to last last paper finally revealed a different picture. It was taken from the opposite angle, capturing an illusive figure hanging at the edge of the frame. “Is that him?”

“That’s the picture he kept coming back to. But...” She saw a look flicker across Ross' face. Was it recognition? There was information she needed, yet did not know how to ask.

“You’re wondering how he could see that far in the dark. And how he could remember such detail. And probably how he knew you were following him. Right?” Glancing down at the picture, his face lost all color.

“What is it, Logan?”

He handed back the paper, and kept his eyes locked on the picture as it moved to the Ross’s desk. “I’m not sure yet,” he said as he backed away. Logan left the office quickly, leaving the others to exchange perplexed looks.

Ross looked at Eames, hoping for enlightenment. Sighing he walked out into the bull pen. “My detectives... let’s meet people,” Ross said loudly. Detectives rose from their desks to gather around Ross. “We have missing a detective. Robert Goren was last seen outside of ...

"Tamarov's Deli." Alex supplied.

"Tamarov's Deli, approximately thirty minutes ago.”

“Any suspects?” someone asked.

Ross shook his head. “What we have right now is a dark van, blue, possibly black. Partial plate New York - 4Q1. The men involved are likely the same suspects from the Bennett girl’s kidnapping.” He held up the newspaper for all to see, pointing to a man in the picture. “This man here. This man is a person of interest in both disappearances. We need to find him.”

“Why would he take Goren?” another detective asked.

Ross frowned. Sooner or later, the details would have to come out about Goren’s unwitting involvement in the Bennett case. “Very early yesterday morning, Goren stumbled onto a piece of the plot to kidnap the senator’s daughter.”

“I may have our next lead,” Logan said quietly as he joined Ross, hands full of papers. “Kenneth Larkin.”

Logan’s head bobbed once. “There was a possibility Larkin might have worked for one of the intelligence agencies. But his allegiances are questionable and he’s well connected. He was one of the names that came up during the Josh Lemle poisoning case. In the file there, you have his last known address, and some people he may have gone to for help.”

“Ritchie, Jamison start running plates. Logan, Wheeler and Eames start tracking down this… Kenneth Larkin. I’ll call the FBI and see what information they’re willing to share with us. Everyone else, work the streets, reach out to your CI's. Everyone has their assignments – GO!" Ross went into his office and slammed the door. He picked up the phone and dialed before he even sat down. So he's going by the name of Kenneth Larkin now...

Eames collapsed into her desk chair, “If anything happens to Bobby...” This is my fault. I was there. Why didn’t I stay closer to him?

“This isn’t your fault, Eames.” Logan looked down at her.

“Why not, I might as well be the one to shoulder the blame. I didn’t get a good look at the van or the men who took him. I was there and didn't stop it.”

"You can't think like that Eames. We'll work the, we'll find him and the girl, before the FBI even catches a whiff of this. You'll come out looking like the hero..."

"I just want my partner back." Eames looked up at Logan.

“Larkin… He’s our best lead in this whole cluster. We find him, we find Goren.” Logan stood and surveyed the room. "Goren wasn't even suppose to be in today, right?"

Eames nodded.

"Don't you think it's interesting that right after Goren tells Ross what he's seen, he's taken only blocks away, in broad daylight?"

“You think someone tipped Larkin off.”

Logan shrugged. "I don't know, I'm just talking. I'm not one to buy into paranoid conspiracy theories, but it's an interesting angle, dontcha think?"

“Well, let’s see what we can see.” She aligned her chair with her laptop, and began to type. Her thoughts were a storm of numbers, names, and questions. Before she was able to type in an inquiry, her thoughts were onto the next one.

“Looks like he had a rough life. Foster care, In and out of the system for most of his childhood; his parents couldn’t take the burden.” Tapping a few keys, another screen appeared. “He eventually became a ward of the state, and eventually just got lost.”

Taking a deep breath, Alex listened to the buzz of phone calls throughout the office. Most were concerning their fellow detective, Bobby Goren.

How does he get himself into these situations? I wonder how long we’re going to look for him. What if this Larkin guy had inside information? Hang on, Bobby. We’re going to find you.

Bobby woke with a start, immediately regretting the sudden motion. The face he had seen resembled Jaige Bennett, however, the other face looked like someone he knew from a long time ago. Everything was jumbled, and he fought the nausea that assaulted him viciously. He remembered waking earlier as he took in his unfamiliar surroundings. I’ve been moved. Okay, so now what?

Shivering, Bobby slowly sat up, breathing through the nausea. He nearly lost the battle once he was upright, and he recognized another dilemma. He was on a cot shoved in the corner of a very small room, barely bigger than a closet. The thin mattress allowing him to feel every spring in the cot.

The sound of scraping metal distracted him from the cold and his nausea. A small window in the metal door slid open, revealing a man with smiling eyes. “Ah! You’re awake!” Then the window slammed shut. Another scraping sound came from the door as it opened. The man walked inside, colorless eyes raking over his captive.

Bobby felt a chill sweep through him as he recognized the man from the other day. The man caught his eyes and he couldn’t look away.

“Don’t worry, Detective Goren – may I call you Bobby? I think it's almost time for us to become reaquainted.” A slow smile bent his colorless lips, as he came closer.

When Bobby first saw the man, he thought his captor was very old. Blinking past the blurriness, he could now see that the man was just the opposite. He wasn’t an albino, he just had no color. “Well, Powder, I don’t appreciate nosey people. And I think that’s far enough,” he said, scooting back against the wall.

The man’s smile was feral. “Very interesting. My goodness, Bobby. You must have an exceptional memory.” He leaned closer to the agent, reaching out a hand, only to have it batted away. He kicked out at his captor, but the man seemed to sense I t coming. This earned Bobby a backhanded slap, sending a series of bright spots dancing before his eyes.

“Maybe now isn’t the proper time to revisit our old relationship. We’ll leave it for a later time. But be aware, I’m a very busy man and my time is valuable. I will not allow you to waste it.” He left without further word, slamming the door behind him. Bobby was alone in the small, cold room again.

Curling up to conserve some body heat, he turned his thoughts inward. Bobby did not know how much time he had before the creepy guy would come back, so he began to reorganize his thoughts and memories.

As he moved around in his mind’s eye, Bobby remembered why he chose doors and rooms as his filing cabinets. When he was young, he read a book that likened stored memories to a favorite room. A library, or a room full of pictures; each specific memory a book or a picture. Visit anytime you like... His extensive imagination took it further, organizing them into rooms. However, having so many pictures of memories left him feeling exposed; some memories had to have more than a door, some needed more than one way out.

When his parents divorced, the pictures of happy memories came down. Bringing new meaning to the word compartmentalizing, he made special rooms for those memories. Sometimes, he would remember certain things involving his father, and blurt it out. His mother would just leave the room if his father’s name was mentioned. It’s hard for a twelve-year-old to understand what his mother felt, but he learned to not bring those memories out when she was around. Everything relating to his father was placed in a room with a door. Eventually, almost all of his memories about the man were locked away behind a door.

Now, he roamed down the endless hall of doors he created. I think I’ve watched The Matrix too many times, he thought, hearing the endless jangle of keys unlocking and re-locking doors. In his phantom hands, he carried a tiny picture; a memory that was well sought after. Placing it in his most guarded room, Bobby waved his hand and the pictures in the frames disappeared. Not erased, just hidden from prying eyes. He left the room, locking it behind him.

Bobby spun around to find his captor standing there. The man was standing over him, smiling greedily.

“What do you want?”

“Be quiet!” The man barely held his anger as he sat beside the prone agent. Placing his hands on Bobby’s shoulders, he braced himself. “It’ll go easier for you, if you don’t resist.”

Bobby watched as the door opened, and two men entered. One was carrying a small box. This can’t be good. A memory surfaced, making him panic sooner than he wanted. Not now! That was a long time ago! It’s not the same! Instinctively, he kicked out, trying to free himself.

Quickly, the third man wrangled Bobby’s flailing legs down to the mattress, securely holding them down. From his compromised position, Bobby lacked the strength to fight off one, let alone three, but he had to try. His shoulders were pinned, yet he moved his arms as much as he could, grabbing anything and pulling.

The colorless man kept smiling as he moved his elbow to rest on his victim’s chest. He grabbed an arm, forcing it straight out. Without a word, the only standing man opened the box, revealing a syringe. No! No! No!

“Oh, yes, Detective Goren – I remember when you were just Sergeant Goren – those were good days. As much as I’d like to break your resolve slowly, I don’t have that kind of time. You will tell me what I need to know, and you will do so quickly, because as I said, I’m a busy man. This way will be less painful than some of the other methods I could employ.”

Larkin? I was never convinced Larkin was his real name. CIA or NSA cover was more likely. Why would he kidnap an NYPD detective? “Pain? I like pain. My life is pain. You should know that by now. I…”

“I said be quiet!” The pressure on his chest increased as the man shifted his weight, making it difficult for Bobby to breathe. The contents of the syringe worked quickly, judging by his inability to struggle. Warmth crept through his veins as he felt the drug start to take hold. His limbs felt heavy, yet he didn’t feel as lethargic as he thought he would. His body was paralyzed, yet his mind was very active; Bobby realized with a sudden clarity he was about to be interrogated like he’d never seen or heard about.

Through half-closed eyes, Bobby saw his captor lean down to his field of vision. “Are you ready?” His voice echoed in Bobby's head. Then he felt hands on either side of his face, keeping his head still. If he could have smiled, he would have. The same cruel and cold smile his mother would adopt on one of her bad days. You will only get what I want you to get. He mentally gritted his teeth.

The bed shifted as the man leaned down again. Bobby felt hot breath on his neck. “You cannot resist me.”

I can try. I told you. You will only get what I want you to get..

Suddenly he envisioned a howling wind swirled around them, slamming every door shut. He wasn’t sure how he came up with the image, but with his strong imagination, Bobby figured he had the advantage. As a child, he had retreated to the rooms of memories so often his mother thought he had become unstable. It takes one to know one. No one knew his mind like he did, and with his years of practice and experience, he would defeat ‘Larkin’, or die trying.

Larkin’s face darkened when he realized the dosage had been too strong.

A soft moan escaped his lips. Bobby felt an itch inside his skull that he couldn’t scratch. The effort to maintain control wore down his exhausted body. Outwardly, he was freezing; flashes of warmth made him feel the cold more deeply. Through his lashes he could see the metal door open. Planning an escape would be more than a little difficult, but he had to try. Where the hell was his back up? Where the hell was Eames?

While he didn’t believe he could hide in the corners of his mind, he tried to create a secret room. The room resembled his home, and he sank into his comfortable chair. His memories would remain locked away, but he was so very tired. As a precaution, he shut away some memories to reserve energy. In his secret place, he could remain active and detached from everything else. It probably wasn’t the best plan, but it was a plan.

When Larkin returned, he stared at the near comatose figure. It shivered with cold, and possibly with fever. Larkin snapped his fingers, and one of his “helpers” advanced cautiously into the room. “Get me a blanket,” he said, sending the man scurrying off.

He stood, watching his captive tremble. Somehow, this man had eluded him; hiding behind well-guarded doors. Chuckling to himself, he considered his alternatives. Larkin reached down, smoothing away a stray lock of hair on the detective's sweat-dampened forehead.

“I’m going to find you, Goren,” he whispered. Reaching down again, he strongly double tapped Bobby’s cheek. He flinched, and his eyes opened, then closed. The drug was wearing off. “Rest up. I’ll return soon.”

Kenneth Larkin left the room as his helper covered the limp, shivering man with a blanket. “Time to talk to the lovely Paige...”

Alex was trying to collect her thoughts and come up with a methodical approach to finding her partner. She gazed absently around the squad room when he attention was attracted by a woman who appeared to be observing her. She met the woman's gaze and 'knew' she was about to betray them. She was going to share what little information they had with another party. The kidnapper? I've been working with Bobby too long.

Alex stood and walked over to Wheeler's desk. "Hey, Megan, who's that woman?" She pointed over to a desk in the middle of the cubicles.

"Elise Thompson. She's one of the newer girls on the support staff – in clerical services. I guess I've seen her around for about a month. Why?"

Distracted, Alex nodded her head, keeping Elise in sight. "I'm not sure. But I think we need to keep an eye on her."

Wheeler straightened and looked over as the woman picked up one of the unused phones and dialed out. "What… I'll get the captain."

"No! Wait. I need to find out more information first." Just as Elise dialed a number, Alex placed her had on the receiver. "I need to ask you a few questions, Elise."

The woman finally looked up "I'm sorry, I have to make a call. If you'll excuse me..." Elise reached for the phone again.

"Please, Elise. Do you know Kenneth Larkin?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Who exactly are you?"

"I'm sorry," Alex smiled, hoping it was a warm, inviting smile. "I'm Detective Alex Eames, I work here in Major Case." She moved closer to the agent, kneeling down beside her. "And I asked you if you know Kenneth Larkin."

"I don't see how that's any of your business," Elise said, clearly unsettled.

"I'm sorry," Alex said again, rising to her full height. "I'm sorry I wasted of your time. Go ahead and make your call." She nodded once, and left the cubicle.

Elise stared at the back of the departing detective. She opened the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out her purse. Slowly she stood and walked out of the squad room. She rode the elevator down to the cafeteria downstairs. Grabbing a salad and a bottle of water, she sat down off in a corner by herself. she reached into her bag and opened her cell phone.

"It's me." She listened as he questioned her. "Yes, they know who you are. No, they don't know where to look."

Her whispered responses were cold and disconnected. After she answered his questions he disconnected the call. Looking around again, she slowly began to eat her salad.

She had no sooner returned to her desk, when Eames approached her desk again.

"Yep. Me again. I'm sorry to bother you, but..." Alex knelt down again in front of Elise. Looking around theatrically, she made sure no one was listening. "Do you think you could go down and pull a file for me? I need my partner's personnel file. I need to refresh my memory about a few details." We're coming, Bobby. Hang on!

#

Bobby allowed himself to venture cautiously out of his secret room. Outwardly, he opened his eyes to darkness and cold, curling tighter in the blanket against the chill. His brain felt like it was two sizes too big for his skull, and his throat felt like sandpaper.

Glancing around the room, he tried to find water, but they had left nothing for him. A sour taste built up in his mouth, making him nauseous again. A low moan escaped his lips as he moved too quickly; he wanted to rise and work out the knots in his neck and back.

He rose stiffly off the bed, stretching everything. A shiver traveled the length of his body, before turning into a tremble. Two steps to the left, Bobby collapsed onto the bed. Closing his eyes tightly, he looked inward and reorganized his memories and thoughts. And waited.

#

Alex approached the corner slowly. She followed Elise out of 1PP when the woman left about an hour after Alex had first spoken to her. Elise jumped into a black Lexus with dark windows as it pulled over and slowed down. From the glimpse through the windshield, Alex was convinced the dark haired driver was not the pale-skinned Larkin.

This time Alex was able to get more information off the license plate. But it was a dealer's plate, and the car had probably been boosted off the lot. She'd have it run anyway. Wheeler pulled up and Alex got in the car. "Let's try her house."

Elise Thompson's home was only a short drive away. The Lexus was parked outside. The two detectives pulled over and stopped. Alex wanted to hop out of the car and get inside to listen for trouble. Her knee nervously bounced up and down while she waited for... something. Wheeler leaned over the steering wheel and peered out the window. They watched and waited for about ten minutes before the man calming came down the walkway and got in the car. They could see him pull out a cell phone. He spoke for a few minutes and then started the engine and drove off.

Wheeler turned the key and the engine roared to life. "Wait. Just... gimme a second..." Alex said. "I think we need… I need to check on Elise," she said quietly, as she opened the car door.

Wheeler's mind raced through every rule and regulation she could think of. "I don't think–"

"I have to make sure." Alex glanced back at Wheeler. "You follow the car. I'll call for back up. I'll be fine. I'm not going in until someone shows up. Go... Don't lose that car."

"Just having a look, right?"

Alex hesitated. "Yep." She moved swiftly across the street, and down the side of the house to the backyard gate, and disappeared from sight.

From an upstairs window, Kenneth Larkin watched her enter the yard.

#

"How do you feel?"

Bobby woke with a start, feeling a hand on his shoulder. He was disoriented and cold. His body remained unresponsive as he tried to move away.

"He just totally drugged you," a giggly voice informed him.

Bobby focused his eyes on the girl sitting next to him. "Paige?" he croaked. "Paige Bennett?"

The girl smiled triumphantly. "That's me! At least, I think you said my name. You kind of sound like you just left the dentist's office." Paige held a dripping cloth over his head; he felt each drop in his hair. "You were so hot this morning – well not hot, like hot. I mean you're cute 'n' all, but you have a very high fever. Kenneth told me to put this on your head. Is it working?"

His answer came out as a moan. Bobby was hot and cold all at once, the worse kind of fever to him. Chances were the cold room had been keeping the fever in check. But now he felt worse. The girl was rambling like a child, playing with his hair, tracing hearts on his chest. Her constant chatter caused him to drift, making it harder to concentrate. He closed his eyes to gather his scattering thoughts.

What had Larkin done to the girl? How had he done it in such a short amount of time? Paige Bennett was a junior in college, majoring in Journalism, and spoke three languages. Now, she seemed a world away from the serious student she'd been just days ago. He shivered, thinking about what Larkin may have done to someone without any defenses.

"Are you cold? Kenneth said I should keep this blanket around..." When she trailed off, Bobby opened his eyes. The girl looked like she was remembering something. A crease formed between her brows. "If you have a really high fever, we have to cool you down. But Kenneth said..."

Paige began to hum a lullaby. "I bet you're thirsty. Here," she held his head while he took a few sips. Setting the glass on the floor within reach, she rose. "Do you like soup? I made some. Well, it's just broth, because you're probably not up to eating, really. So I'll be back, okay?" The tall metal door scraped open for her, and she was gone.

Bobby retreated to his secret room, waiting for the next intrusion.

Larkin came back downstairs to collect Elise, who was curled up on the couch. While it wasn’t cold out, he had started a fire to make a more relaxing environment. He looked sadly at her face, painted orange by the firelight; she had become a liability. Her information gathering skills were better than the others were.

“I should be angry with you, Elise. But really, you’ve outdone yourself.” He stroked her fair cheek. “But you look tired. Perhaps you need a vacation. A permanent vacation.”

“Smile, my dear. You’re about to be famous.” Her eyes opened wide in recognition of what was about to happen. There was no time to struggle.

He brought his other hand up to cup her face. With one quick precise snap of his wrist, Elise Thompson died.

Larkin jumped into Elise’s car and looked behind him to back up down the drive. He saw a woman running towards the car, waving her arms. Driving away, he was mildly surprised at the anger that came from nowhere. That anger focused on Robert Goren. If it hadn’t been for the detective, everything would have worked. This was his last job, and then he was going to disappear for a long time. It was time to rest.

Pressing his foot down on the gas, Larkin drove back with more determination to drive Dean out somehow. The man had proved to be a formidable opponent, and amazingly resourceful even at his weakest moment. He’d beaten the drugs so far, but Goren would have to be dealt with soon.

Again, the anger flared. He had miscalculated everyone. The risks he had taken seemed worth it at the time, but now he could only blame himself. A bit over-confident in your own abilities, Kenneth.

Time. It wasn’t on his side anymore. The only thing to do now was to get out now, slip away before they could find him.

Driving back to the warehouse, he doubled back several times to make sure he hadn’t been followed. Larkin knew he wouldn’t, but old habits die hard. Driving through the large doorway of the warehouse, he parked the sleek black Mercedes. Who had that woman been outside Elise’s house?

Larkin turned and strode purposely down the hall to the tiny room holding the detective. It’s time, Robert. “It’s time.”

#

Alex couldn’t get close enough to do anything about the Mercedes speeding away and exasperated, she stopped running. She turned to look into the open doorway of Elise Thompson home. Where the hell is my backup? Logan? Ritchie? Jamison? Anyone?

The dimly lit interior didn’t do much to calm her jittery nerves. Slowly she pulled her gun and called out, “NYPD! Elise Thompson! It’s Detective Eames.” Glancing over her shoulder, she took a deep calming breath and slowly entered the house. In the soft glow of the firelight, from the doorway she could see Elise on the sofa. Eyes closed and hands posed together in the sign of prayer, resting on the center of her chest. Alex sighed as she called dispatch for a coroner’s unit.

Larkin breezed past the office where his two assistants sat watching the detective on the close circuit camera. Paige was leaving Goren’s holding cell with an empty bowl. When she saw him, her eyes softened. “Umm, hi, Kenneth. You’re back early.”

“Yes. Things snapped into place quicker than I thought they would. Is he ready for me?”

Paige twirled her hair with her free hand. “I guess. He didn’t eat much, and he’s still hot and woozy. My mom knows a good doctor. I could call…”

Larkin pressed his index finger on her lips, silencing her. “Maybe tomorrow, if he’s good.” He brushed past her, pushing open the heavy metal door. He saw Goren sitting up on the bed, head in one hand, the other hanging loosely between his knees. Despite the drug working its way through his system, Bobby slowly raised his head, looking more alert than he should. “Good. You’re awake.”

I don’t know how much longer I can do this!

Before he could comprehend Larkin crossing the room, the man was holding him down by the shoulders, fingers digging painfully into his overly hot flesh. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as his limbs went limp; whatever this drug was it seemed to take a while to work. And Larkin had it timed just right. Through half-closed eyes, Bobby saw the colorless face looming above him, greedy smile in place. He envisioned himself in the interrogation room at 1PP. Staring through the one way glass, he felt Eames and Ross standing there, waiting for him.

“How did you know? How did you find me, Detective?”

“I… I don’t know what… I wasn’t looking.”

“You were there at the ransom exchange. I saw you, I recognized you, even after all these years.”

“Late at work. Walk. Fresh air.”

Larkin saw it all fall into place. His perfect plan had fallen apart because the man decided to take a walk at three o’clock in the morning.

“I couldn’t take the chance that…” The detective interrupted Larkin in mid-sentence.

"You have the girl. You even have the parents waiting to give you anything you ask. And yet you obsess over me. Why? I might have seen that 'faked' ransom exhange, but how could I have hurt you.”

Larkin’s jaw dropped. Goren was drugged. He was supposed to be in a completely suggestive state. He’d never seen a drugged subject take the lead in this situation. How was it he was able to do that? The dosage still wasn’t right.

Larkin laughed. This was starting to sound as cliché as every James Bond film ever made. Bond was going to get his captor to tell him every detail of his ingenious plan. But this wasn’t fiction. This was real and he still had the upper hand. There would be no escape. There would be no rescue. He could afford to be generous.

“You remember our first meeting. In Germany. The debriefing of the Russian arms dealer. You embarrassed me. You beat me. You saw the inconsistencies in the information he was giving me. It didn’t look good on my record. Not long after that, I was reassigned Stateside. I was a field agent. Not some damn desk jockey. You were just some damn Army CID Sergeant sent in to observe as a learning assignment at interrogation techniques.”

"Even after all these years, I recognized your face. I had the advantage of the moonlight. We were shadowed, but you… you were highlighted. I knew it was my chance to avenge myself on not just one old adversary, but two.”

"Martin Bennett started out in the NSA too. He got ahead by taking credit for other agent’s work. He made friends in all the right places while figuratively stabbing his fellow agents in the back and eviscerating the agency. Without men like Bennett, terrorism wouldn’t have flourished as it has. So many tragedies could… would have been averted.”

“It’s too late for that now, but he can be made to pay. And he will. As will you.”

Paige entered through the partially open door. “I made breakfast for you. But…” Paige looked uncertain, shifting from one foot to the other. “Are you leaving?”

Larkin smiled, “Yes, sweetie. But I’ll be back.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. As he injected her again, he added, “Don’t you think a fire would be nice; to take off the chill of this drafty old warehouse.”

She smiled happily, bobbing her head up and down, “Umm hmm! I like fire. It’s pretty!” She placed the plate on the desk, and skipped away, humming a little song. Skidding to a halt, Jessica turned back to him. “What about that guy? He’s already really hot – well not hot, hot… but won’t it make him sicker?”

“Don’t worry about him, my dear. When I get back the three of us can sit and watch the pretty fire.”

“That’ll be nice. Okay. I know where the matches are! I’ll have it ready when you get back. See you soon, Kenneth!” Paige skipped away again, this time towards the kitchen.

“You!” He pointed to Number One. “Watch the girl and the detective. And you,” nodding to Number Two. “Get the van. We’re going on a field trip.” Larkin smiled. This was ending soon, and he needed to finish his preparations.

Nice new chapters. However you called Bobby Brendan at one point and Paige became Jessica in the last chapter.

Also some of the transitions are a little mushy... you can't quite tell that there's been a scene change right away.

I like the story though so far. Please keep it going.

I like it.

This is good. I really like how you draw on Goren's background, I haven't seen many fics about his time in the CID. The metaphor of rooms in Goren's mind is something I really like. Keep going.

And this is why everyone should have a beta!
And why you shouldn't take out a character & hope you catch every case where you've 'reassigned' a scene to someone else
And why you shouldn't change characters names, because you decide halfway through that you don't like the original name anymore

I'm gonna go back and see if I can clean those all up, if I can find them all -- I don't know what I can do about the mushy transitions, I think that's just the way I write.

ETA...
Okay, and I even spelled "Bobby" as "Bobbie"

That's it from now on it's he/she, him/her or _____________ you can insert any name you want. I'll leave it up to the reader to figure out who's who....

Thanks!


Thanks - during Untethered, I was wondering how would someone would try to resist drugs/truth serum type of interviews/interrogations and tried to figure out how that could fit into Bobby world.
I'd love to see some stories about his time in CID - I wish someone would write some... but those would be really procedural and as we can tell, I don't those so well.

Hey, Kat? Ciaddict's 2nd story about Bobby and Annie takes place while he's in CID; starts between Germany and Korea, is mainly centered around Bobby and Annie's relationship. Mine takes place starting right after he gets to Germany with CID, and is about his relationship with Amy. I know, that sounds confusing, but you asked if someone was writing stories about him during that time, and 2 of us are. Just not procedurals, they are 'relationship' stories.

Yeah, you need a beta on this one. Not one of your more strongly written stories, even tho the plot is compelling and very well thought out and the story line itself is wonderful. I hope that made sense.

Maybe you could put a line of some sort when you change scenes? That's what I've been doing....like this:

***************************************************************************
And the next scene is below the line.

He woke to someone shaking his shoulders.

“Wake up! Wake up, please!” Paige Bennett leaned over his face, screaming, tears on her cheeks.

Bobby wanted to answer, but couldn’t find his voice. She gave him tepid water to drink, but it didn’t help. The words were all scrambled in his mind.

“You wanna get outta here?” Paige asked as she clumsily drew his shirt around his shoulders, then pulled his hands through the arms of the shirt. Next came the jacket, which proved harder as Bobby began faltering. “No, no! Wake up! I’m gonna help you stand, okay?”

Bobby nodded slowly, her words penetrating the fog. She’s okay! And now she’s helping me? I was right; Larkin was losing control. He held onto her hand like the lifeline it was, and rose stiffly. Something was wrong. Was I drugged too long? Was I gone too long? Oh God, I‘m so tired...

“Hey! Hey! Wake up! I know you’re, like, really tired, but we gotta go.”

Words formed on his stiff lips. “Comin’.”

Her smile was like daylight. “Cool.”

As soon as Kenneth left, Paige wandered into the kitchen. Feeling more herself than she had in days, she tried to think of a way out of this mess. She tried remembering what he’d told her to do.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the men staring at her. “What do you want?”

“You,” was all he said.

Paige tried to remember her self-defense classes, but decided on the skillet next to her hand. One hand on the skillet, one hiking up her skirt, she waited for him to get closer. She swung the skillet as hard as she could, but miscalculated where he would be. Fortunately, the guy had a glass jaw and went down when she connected with his chin. With a backhand that would make her tennis instructor proud, she swung the skillet back, catching him on the side of the face with a satisfying BWANG! Gently placing the skillet back on the stove, Paige stepped over the unconscious man, then ran for the detective guy’s room.

As she ran, Paige tried to focus her scattering thoughts. She needed to get her bearings, and find the keys to the black car in the garage. Throwing open the door to the small room, she saw the man on the rickety cot. She ran over and tried to rouse him. He was in the same curled position she saw him in last. Only now, he was burning up with a fever worse than... yesterday? Last night?

Running back to the office, she found his shirt and jacket, but not his coat. A phone? Damn! She screamed at frustration at the lack of one, but gathered the other things. It was cold out, but if she got the car started, they would be warm. Returning to the room, she began shaking the man awake. There was no response, and she didn’t now how much time she had left. Finally, he blinked.

“Wake up! Wake up, please!” She knew she was screaming, but he didn’t seem to hear.

Eyes fluttered until they focused weakly on her face. In the dim light, she could see confusion in the brown eyes. I don’t know his name! People focus better when you use their names, don’t they? In frustration she slapped his face several times to get his attention, “You wanna get outta here?”

Once he was upright, she fumbled with the shirt and jacket, pulling them over his too warm body. He began listing to the side. “No, no! Wake up! I’m gonna help you stand, okay?” She could see he was struggling to listen and make sense of her words, but he looked beyond exhausted. Paige hoped he would focus on her voice. “Hey! Hey! Wake up! I know you’re, like, really tired, but we gotta go.”

After blinking a few times, he finally spoke. “Comin’.”

Relief like a cool shower washed over her. “Cool.”

Slowly, they made their way through the warehouse. After realizing she didn’t have the keys, she tried focusing and in her mind saw them setting on the table in the room the men had kept watch from. Another thought hit her as she shivered. It’s cold out there! Running back to the kitchen, she pulled the jacket off the prone man still lying on the floor in the kitchen.

When she returned to the car, she found the man leaning heavily on the car. Sheer stubbornness seemed to be holding him upright. “Hi,” he said breathlessly.

“Hi. What’s your name?”

The man thought quietly; his face showing confusion again. He watched her open the door. “Bob... Bobby.”

“Umm, okay, Bobby. We’re going to get out of here, but you’ve got to help me. I’m still not too clear on things right now; it kinda’ comes and goes. And I’m not sure where we are right now. If you see something that can help us, let me know okay?”

“Mmmhmm.”

She shook her head, and closed the door. He’s going to be a big help, NOT! Sliding behind the wheel, Paige started the car. We’re leaving! As soon as I figure out how to... D is for drive! Oh God, I’m slipping.. Focus! Turning the wheel, she steered the car towards the open end of the warehouse.

#

Danny Ross loved his job. And, not just because he’d finally made it to Major Case as the captain. He had a talented crew of dedicated and hard working set of detectives. Now one was missing. Bobby Goren wasn’t special in the big picture, but in the lives of the people he worked with everyday he was, even though he was often considered an oddity. But today he was missing and he had witnessed a scene involving the kidnapped daughter of a state senator.

Ross shook his head. On paper, it would have made a great novel. A man, who had served in one of the intelligence agencies of his country, appears to be a kidnapper. Throw in a detective with an incredible memory and intricate knowledge of the criminal mind, one who solved a high percentage of cases by instinct and an impeccable eye for detail, a state senator and kidnapped daughter and an entire police unit looking for them both.

Larkin had tied up the loose end known as Elise Thompson, but no one had yet to find out what her connection really had been. What bothered Ross the most was other than the first ransom call to the senator; there had been no further contact. They suspected that Larkin was losing control of the situation and that Goren had become some sort of obsession, causing his focus to shift. But why?

Robert Goren was one of his hardest working detectives, one of the most dedicated he’d ever seen. He didn’t understand the man at all, but he recognized the daily burden he carried that was for the most part unseen by his co-workers. He saw it every time the detective had a rough case, wondering if he had gone home at all, if he’d gotten any sleep. Yesterday was no different. Goren was never satisfied with the results. On all of his cases, he felt the case should have been closed sooner, that he could have done more, that he’d missed something. He had all the recognition and approval he needed, but his passion for perfection would kill him one day.

The phone on the desk rang plaintively, bringing him out of his thoughts. Direct line. That can’t be good. “Ross.”

“Hey, Danny. It’s Harris.”

“Jack, good to hear your voice. How’s Missing Persons treatin’ you?” Danny let out a silent sigh. He’d been holding his breath, thinking the call might have been bad news.

The man on the other line sighed heavily and wearily. “Well, if people would quit misplacing themselves, it’d be a whole lot simpler. Listen,” Harris sobered. “We caught a break on one of the traces we’ve got running. Your missing detective’s cell phone was used this morning, just a couple of hours ago.”

All at once, the air in his office stilled. “Do you have tape of it? Or a location.”

“We don’t have an exact location and the call wasn’t too coherent. But it was Paige Bennett. All I have is a transcript. And I can’t tell you how we even got this… but I’m sending it over to you now.”

“Thanks, Jack. I owe you.”

“Yeah, not a problem. If it helps even a little in getting your detective back, it’ll be worth the reprimand it’ll earn me if anyone higher up finds out about it. This case has been a high profile nightmare for my team for the last two days. Maybe by working two different tracks, we can close both our cases.”

“I’ll do my best, Harris. Thanks for letting me know.” Ending the call, Ross glanced out of his window. The late afternoon sun shone through an overcast sky. Looks like snow.

"People! We have a lead, it's a small one, but it's a start." Ross announced, approaching the cluster of desks at the center of the office. "We have a transcript of a call made today. It's from Paige Bennett and the call was made from Goren's cell phone." He started to read the transcript aloud:

"Hi, Daddy? It's me, Paige."

"Paige! Where are you? Are you okay? Are you–"

"Wait, wait, wait. I can't... Too many questions. I'm at a big place that's dusty and dirty. But it smells like soap." She laughs. "How can it be so dirty if it smells clean?"

"I don't know, honey. But I'll come get you if you want. Can you tell me where you are?"

"I'm in the office. I was making a movie for class. And then… then I was here. I don't know what happened. Do you?"

There was whispering on one end; the senator was being told what to ask next. "Listen, Paige. I'm gonna come get you. Is there a window? Can you tell me what you see?"

A whimper came across the line. "There's, like, a giant watching us. I see his eyes at night. Is he looking for me?" Another whimper. "Daddy? I don't know what to do about the other man. He's really sick, and Kenneth won't help him. Kenneth won't leave him alone. He keeps giving the guy a drug. I think he's giving me the same thing, but not as much… it's hard to keep track of things. I think it's umm... GH-something...!, because the guy can't move so good."

"Kenneth? Who's Kenneth honey? Kenneth who, honey?"

"Paige! I need you to focus!" A new voice came on the line. "Tell me about the giant."

"Okay, okay. You don't have to yell. I see a big tall building. And a... Hey. Kenneth's back. I'll call you later!"

The connection was lost.

"The FBI was able to trace the call from Goren's phone to a five mile radius here." Ross pointed to a map, "Chances are, he's somewhere in or near the abandoned warehouses, but that's still a lot of ground to cover."

"Could explain the soap smell, chemical smell is more like it," Wheeler replied. "We're on it." Logan joined her as they walked back to their desks.

"The giant she's talking about may be a billboard. We'll check it out." Detective Ritchie shouted over his shoulder, already typing the request on the computer keyboard.

#

Bobby was freezing. He was sure he'd never been this cold before. He listened to the girl chatter away; she seemed to be focusing on driving. Sort of. Her hands were shaking badly, too. Bobby reached over, struggling to press the button for heat. The fan came on full blast and the air went from cool to warm in seconds.

"Sorry! I forgot. How do you feel now?"

He tried to focus on words, "Not great," he whispered.

"We'll be fine soon, I promise. Look!" She excitedly patted his aching arm.

Bobby raised his eyes to the place she was pointing, but saw a sign for the subway. For a moment, the fog cleared in his head. "The Green Line to the Yellow Line, then I'll be home."

"What? The subway?" Paige pulled the car into a parking lot. "I think we're around the university. Stay here, I have a friend that works there. He… he can help us. Wait here, I'll be right back."

"'kay." But Bobby's moment of clarity stayed with him. He would walk back to the subway stairs and get home where it was safe. As soon as she was out of site, Bobby opened his door. The air was frigid as he left the car, stealing his breath away.

As he walked slowly down the sidewalk, he noticed a dark van driving slowly towards him. Panic shot through him like an electric jolt; he ducked into an alley and hid. From his vantage point, he watched the van pass. He continued down the alley, feet crunching on ice and snow. The cold sapped his energy faster than he thought it would; the edges of his vision darkened.

Just before he hit the icy ground, Bobby smelled pastrami. Can't be. How lucky am I? Bobby crawled up and sat against a grimy door. With a weak fist, he banged on the door until he heard someone answer.

"Who is it? What do you want?"

The door opened, and Bobby was on his back, staring up at Liev Tamarov "Sophia!" The short man pulled him inside to the warm kitchen. "Sophia! Hurry, it's Bobby... Bobby Goren!"

Bobby linked slowly. "H-hey, M-m-mister T. Umm..."

"Da, shh, boy, I can see you are not well. Sop–"

"What is it, Liev? All this yelling."As she entered the kitchen, Sophia screamed. "Get him upstairs. Right now! Gregor! Come help your father."

Bobby opened one eye to see a larger version of Liev bending over him. "I got him, Pop. I'll take him to my room." Gregor heaved up the ailing man in his arms, and the two stumbled up the back stair.

"Yes, yes. Hurry," Sophia whispered. She began collecting blankets as they moved down the narrow hall.

Closing his eyes, saw the battered doors of his memory. Pain seared through his head as he fell back against the soft mattress. Stripping off Bobby's damp clothing, Gregor asked his mother to leave for a moment. "Hey, Bobby we need to get you cooled down."

"Already c-cold," Bobby said around chattering teeth. He closed his eyes and let darkness take him.

"Bobby? Bobby?" Gregor was about to call his mother, when she appeared at his elbow. She had switched the blankets for damp towels. "He looks bad, Ma."

"Da. Your father is calling an ambulance." Sophia perched on the edge of the bed, wiping the extremely pale man down with the towels. She produced a thermometer from her pocket, and gently placed it in Bobby's mouth. "Please, son. Close the shop. It will be a little early, but it must be done."

"Yes, Ma." Gregor hurried down the stair, to meet up with his father.

Sophia turned her attention to the sick man. Pulling out the thermometer, she studied the numbers. "Oh my… Liev!"

"What's wrong, Sophia? The ambulance will be here soon." The butcher limped into the room. "It is beginning to snow."

"Oh, it is too high. The temperature, it is too high." She continued to wipe down the overheated skin. Watching him closely, she tried to ignore the flinch every time she touched Bobby with a cool towel.

Soon, they could hear the sirens approaching. Gregor showed the paramedics upstairs. His parents moved out of the way, allowing the medical personnel to work. The woman knelt down next to the bed, taking the patient's pulse.

"What's his name?" she asked.

"He is Robert Goren. He is a … a friend."

"Okay, can you tell me what happened?"

"I find him at back door. I don't know how long he is there, but I think not long."

"Carrie, his temp is 104. We've gotta get him out of here." Her partner closed up their cases, readying to leave.

"Yeah you're right. Let's get him downstairs." They carefully carried him down the narrow stairs to a gurney waiting below.

"Liev, you go with him. And you call to let me know he is okay." Sophia wrung her hands as she worried about the younger man.

#

By the time they arrived at the hospital, Bobby was writhing on the gurney. If possible his fever had gone up even higher, and he was rushed into another room. Liev could only stand, watch and wait. He listened carefully to the nurses' chatter, catching news about the sick man who had been rushed into the ER. They had to scrounge to find a few cooling blankets; hypothermia was normally their biggest concern this time of year.

"Sir? Is there anyone we should call?"

Liev shrugged slightly. "I do not know. He is a police officer. I don't know any of his family. He helped my family come to the United States. He comes to the store, buys sandwiches and lets my wife flirt with him."

"Okay. Why don't you have a seat for now? I'll let you know how he's doing when I can." The nurse went to check other paperwork.

Another nurse came running around the corner, waving a sheet of paper. "Hey, isn't this missing persons flyer our guy? He's a cop. He's been missing for two days."

"What is this?" The butcher rose quickly, moving over to the station. "He is missing? Please call! There is girl who sometimes comes with him. She will know."

"Yes, Mister Tamarov. We're calling now."

"Is good. Is good. I will wait here," he said, watching the sliding doors for a familiar face.

#

The new patient was giving them some trouble. He wouldn't stay under the cooling blankets. He refused to stay calm, and it seemed he didn't want to answer any questions. After two hours of fighting the nurses, Robert Goren finally exhausted himself into a fitful slumber.

"It's about time," Dr. Jenna Kirkus huffed. She had seen this sort of thing many times. Patients too disoriented to realize that they were being helped, not harmed. The basic survival instinct was always intact, no matter how technologically advanced the human race became.

She held the thermometer in his ear, waiting for the tell-tale beep. Studying the shivering man, Jenna saw bruises on his throat and bare shoulders. Obviously, someone had held him down, and he had fought back, judging by the bruises on his wrists and legs.

"Well, kiddo, looks like your fever's gained some ground," she said as she pulled up the cooling blanket to his chin. Grabbing a nearby towel, the doctor gently wiped Bobby's sweat-drenched face.

"Dr. Kirkus, here are those ice packets you requested. Is he finally asleep?"

"Yeah. I suppose you could call it sleep." Dr. Kirkus shook her head as she placed the ice carefully around the patient's body. "Fever's being pretty stubborn. We get blood work back?"

"Nah, of course not. I'll go down and rattle Doc Levinson's cage and see if he has more pull than you do…"

"Ladies! What have we got?"

"Speak of the devil," the nurse chuckled as she left the two doctors with the patient. "I'll be at the nurses station if you need anything."

"Afternoon, Dr. Levinson." Dr. Kirkus nodded to the RN as she exited the area. "Patient was highly agitated and disoriented. I'm sure it's the result of the high fever. We've started an IV, which he's managed to dislodge only once."

"And I hear you're still waiting for the blood work."

"Yep, but I think they're going to find at least one drug is in his system. He has several contusions indicating the use of restraints, but no other serious injuries. Some dehydration, but that's not unusual for him... Poor guy's gonna have a whopper of a headache when he wakes up."

"Yeah, no kidding. What do you mean, 'not unusual for him', you've treated him before? All right, I see what I can do to get that blood blood work back, and we can go from there." The doctor frowned thoughtfully. "What's his name?"

Nodding, Dr. Kirkus answered the ER Chief Resident, "I've treated him before, his name is Bobby Goren. He's an NYPD detective. And they've been notified that he's here. He's been missing for the last two days, so they were very relieved that he'd been found."

The doctor nodded, tapping his finger against his chin. "Okay, let's go talk to his friend while we wait for that blood work." He left the restless patient in search of some answers. "Maybe he has some insights into the man's previous whereabouts."

When he stepped into the waiting area, he saw a short, round man pacing near the door. "Mr. Tamarov. I'm Dr. Levinson and this is Dr. Kirkus. Can we sit down?"

Liev nodded slowly, assessing the taller man. "Da. Yes. Levinson. Is good name." He grinned. "How is Bobby?"

"He's going to need lots of rest, but I'm pretty sure he'll be okay. We're trying to get his fever under control right now. Have you known him long?"

The Russian butcher shrugged. "Maybe a dozen years. He comes for lunch sometimes. That one does not eat as he should."

Levinson smiled. "I noticed that. Do you know what happened to him?"

"I do not. I see him a few days ago. He like pastrami sandwich, so I give, but he does not look well."

"Dr. Levinson?" Marie called from behind the nurses' station. "Blood work's back."

Dr. Kirkus went to pick up the results as Levinson continued to speak with the man. The doctor nodded succinctly, and smiled at the anxious man. "I'll let you know what we find out, okay?"

"Da. Yes. My wife... She kill me if I return without seeing him or having good news."

"I understand. If his family doesn't show up soon, I'll let you look in on him. We'll get him settled first, then I'll come get you." Dr. Levinson patted the man on the shoulder and left him to look at the toxicology report."

"Is fine. He makes me worry." Liev Tamarov rummaged around in his pocket for change to use the pay phone down the hall. He could at least call Sophia and tell her not to worry about Bobby any longer.

We have another Brendan in this one...

Great chapter!

GRRRRRRRR!!!!!!! I thought I caught them all this time.

I'm glad you updated, and that Bobby is all right. But did you mean to write disjointed sentences with how Mr Tamarov replies to the nurse? I did the same in one of my fics to illustrate that someone my main character talks to can't speak very good English. That's the impression I was getting. Otherwise, a great plot and I'm interested in why the senator's daughter was kidnappped in the first place.

If you want a beta, PM me. I'd be more then happy to offer my services.

Dr. Kirkus added the results to Goren's patient chart, nodding slowly. She walked back to Goren's bedside, where Nurse Marie Sykes was once again taking his temperature. "He wake up at all?"

"Not really. Keeps talking about someone named Eames. No change in his fever. Still 102."

"You should remember her, his partner, that is. The last time he was brought in here, she was the one who stayed around the clock with him. Those cooling blankets don't seem to be working at all, do they?"

"Well his temp hasn't gone up, so maybe they are working." Nurse Sykes glanced up from her watch. "His pulse is almost back to normal. Is that his blood work?"

"Yeah," Dr. Kirkus paged through the results, " it looks like he was given Phencyclidine. There are still fairly high levels in his system. The agitation and restlessness are consistent with high dosages for, I would guess, the almost two days he's been missing. With these levels he would have experienced haluccinations and depressed neuro transmittion, reducing his ability to move. A perfect drug to use to keep someone against their will as long as you could monitor him coming down off the peak and give him another shot. With these numbers it make take as long as two weeks for all traces to metabolize. "

"That's a 'old' drug to use."

"Still readily available. But I agree, it's not the first drug that comes to mind or the first that I'd look for in a tox report. Maybe that's why it was used." Suppressing a shudder, Dr. Kirkus continued as she looked down at her patient, "How horrible. Seeing things and not being able to move."

"Let's get him settled into a room before his partner and boss show up.

"If anything, there's a very concerned man waiting for him in the lobby who'll take care of him."

"I'm sure you will remember Goren's partner and his boss when they get here. There will be plenty of concern to go around."

"Mr. Kern? There's someone to see you."

"Audrey, I'm in the middle of something. Tell them to make an appointment or email me, or whatever."

Still not in a good mood, I see. I guess having the FBI question you about the kidnapping of your ex-girlfriend will do that to you, but…. "I think you're going to want to see her, it's Paige Bennett."

"What?" Kevin Kern came bursting out of his office. Shock settled over him, followed closely by relief as he closed his mouth. They had broken up just days ago. He had gotten a little crazy about her spending a great deal of time with one of his friends on a group project. He knew it was his insecurities coming to a head, which had him accusing her of cheating on him. They had a terrible argument, ending when she walked out of his apartment. They hadn't had the chance to talk again and then … "Paige? What are– Are you all right?"

She gathered a very large jacket around her shoulders. "I– could you help us?" Come on, Paige! Form a sentence! "Me and Bobby took that guy's... umm, Kenneth's... we took his car and got away."

"What… " Kevin held out his hands to touch her, but she flinched away. "I'm not gonna hurt you, Paige. Come with me." He tried to speak as calmly as possible. She finally took his hand, moving with him toward his office. "Audrey? Can you get us something warm to drink? Thanks."

As they entered his office, Kevin took a closer look at his best friend. Her eyes had dark circles, she had bruises on her neck, and wore the same clothes as the last time he saw her. Paige looked like she'd been through all the levels of hell to get back.

"Oh, Kev,.. I'm so glad you're here! Did you know Kenneth is a bad person? He did something to Bobby … Oh no! Bobby!"

"Calm down, Paige. Who's Bobby?" he asked, easing her down to the couch.

"He's like this cop… a detective, I think. Kenneth seemed to like him better than me. Why did you leave me?"

Kevin blinked at the shift in conversation. She seemed like a junkie coming down off a high, trembling in his arms, and eyes that wouldn't track. Every noise made her flinch, and he couldn't get her to focus. "Please, Paige. What happened? We need to call your dad and the FBI. They've been down to see me twice already. They seemed to think that I might have…"

She looked on the verge of tears, when she finally focused on him. "Bobby's really sick. We gotta help him, but I left him outside. Too heavy. It's freezing out there! Bring him inside, okay?" Paige stood and swayed violently. "Whoa! I don't... I don't feel so good."

Grabbing her arms, he lowered her back down to the couch. "You stay here, kid. I'll get him."

She pouted and smiled. "Not a kid." Paige snatched his hand. "Kevin, listen. He's kind of skittish right now, okay? I … Kenneth gave him – us – something."

Kern nodded quickly. "Don't worry. I'll get him. You just lie down." He stood and ran out of his office. "Audrey," he yelled as he walked by his assistant. "Back in a sec. Keep her in there!" Kevin disappeared behind closing elevator doors.

The bored guard in the lobby looked up to see one of the tenants running pell-mell through the lobby and out the main doors. He saw the man skid to a halt on the snow-covered sidewalk, he watched as Kern scan the street. What is going on today? He rose to see if there was anything he could do as Kern took off and started walking down the moderately busy street.

Kevin noticed a black car, looking out of place, with only a faint dusting of snow on its surface, rather than the heavily covered cars parked along the street. Peering in through the side window, he saw the car was empty. Kevin scanned the street looking for a… a… possibly staggering figure.

Nothing.

Running back inside, he was vaguely aware of the security guard watching from the window. "Sorry, Mike. False alarm." He stopped suddenly, snapping his fingers. "Hey, did you see anyone walking outside with no coat on?"

The guard smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, no. Didn't notice."

"It's okay. Thanks."

Returning to his office, Kevin found his secretary rummaging around in a closet. "Why don't we have blankets here?" Audrey asked herself. "There could be a disaster..."

"Audrey, don't worry about it. I'm taking her home," he said as he closed the door to his inner office. Kevin perched on the edge of the couch and stared down at Paige.

"Kevin?"

"Yeah, Paige. I'm here."

"Remind me to thank Professor Richardson."

"Your Psych professor?"

"Uh huh…yeah," she drawled. Paige lifted a shaky hand to her face. "All that reading came in handy, and I figured Kenneth wouldn't know that I'd done something like that. I did a paper about kidnap and hostage victims, their situations and even a little about 'Stockholm syndrome'. When the drugs started to wear off, I pretended I was still under the influence. Once Bobby showed up, Kennneth… he … he forgot about me, so I had fewer doses."

"Pretty lucky there, Paige. But –"

She shook her head and curled up tightly. "The things I saw…I –"

"I know, honey.," Kevin whispered, "Are you okay? You want to go to the hospital?"

She looked at him again, pain, sorrow and worry filled her eyes. "Do you think Bobby will be okay?"

Kevin was beginning to believe there was no one named Bobby with her. "I dunno. Maybe he went home?" Maybe Bobby was just one of the hallucinations that helped get her through her ordeal.

She closed her eyes remembering something he said about the subway. "Maybe." Soon, she was asleep again.

Fishing out his cell phone, Kevin called her father.

Ants.

They were all ants. Here to do his bidding, whenever and whatever he wished. Kenneth Larkin sat on the steps of a certain non-descript building, watching his driver chase down a police officer. It was so easy to control those two he thought of as 'Frick' and 'Frack' or more accurately as 'Dumb' and 'Dumber'.

The female officer was eating her lunch, enjoying her sandwich until he came running up confessing to a crime.

"...I really did kidnap the senator's daughter. I know where Paige Bennett is! Are you listening? I took her..." 'Dumb' implored the female officer.

She literally looked at him as if he were nuts and tried to shoo him away, but the man persisted. Finally, she slowly re-wrapped her sandwich, as if giving the man time to run away. When he didn't leave, she gave him a thunderous look, and finally pushed him up against the cruiser. Pulling out her handcuffs, she told him his rights, patted him down and threw him in the back seat of her cruuiser.

As her partner returned, she was just slamming the door closed. The looks of confusion on his face slowly disappearing as she explained the situation. He shook his head and sighed. "Let's roll. We're gonna have to turn him over to the feds. If we're lucky we'll get to eat before the sandwiches spoil."

They drove off, leaving Larkin to laugh in the relative quiet. So easy! Brushing off the light dusting of snow on his coat, he walked up to the building, flashing another man's badge.

"Sir? Sorry. I'm just wondering, who you're here to see?"

"Ross, Captain Danny Ross. I have some information about that missing detective from one of my informants. I'm sure you understand how important it is that I get up there immediately. If you could call him and tell him I'm on my way..." As if on cue, the elevator dinged. Larkin hurried on, and pressed the proper floor number – the eleventh floor.

"What's your name? Sir? Sir?" The young guard quickly dialed upstairs. The elevator door had already slid shut.

The doors opened, depositing him in a nearly vacant hall and squad room. Seems everyone was working the case of the missing detective. He grinned. What an amazing unintended consequence of having kidnapped the senator's daughter. This is about to get very interesting.

An office door opened, allowing two women and a man to exit. The man is Danny Ross, and the two women must just be two of his detectives. Larkin ducked into a cubicle as the two women walked by him to get on the elevator. He spotted a janitorial cart nearby, and a ball cap, just outside one of the offices near him. Oh, the cliché! Let's see if this actually works... I must be quick about this. He made his way through the office, hoping he appeared to be janitorial staff.

Ross collected his briefcase and exited his office, tossing a 'G'night!' towards Ritchie and Jamison who were still at their desks. Stopping by Eames desk, Larkin could overheard Ross, "I have to pick up the boys, I should be back in about an hour."

Eames nodded, phone receiver held up to her ear.

Larkin followed Ross to the elevator, planning to ride down with the man. Ross glanced over at the janitor wearing an overlarge coat. Ross was weighing his alternatives as the elevator doors opened.

Larkin noticed and conversationally said, "I'll answer plenty of your questions, just get in the elevator." Larkin pushed the down button as the door slid closed. "Right now, I'm doing the talking."

Ross set his feet firmly on the floor, preparing himself for a battle. "Nice coat. I'm sure Detective Goren is missing it."

The pale man before him shrugged. "Perhaps. I'm sure he's too warm to miss it." "Surprised to see me?"

It was Ross' turn to shrug. "To be honest, yes." He peered thoughtfully at Larkin. "Why haven't you gone? You could be far away from here, and no one would've known. The senator was willing to pay the money. He even has the clout to call off the feds."

"True. But where's the fun in that?" His eyes closed suddenly against the pain slicing through his brain. "It's been a long time Danny."

"Yes, it has Kenneth. Have a headache, do you?" Ross smiled smugly. Good. "But then you have Goren, he can do that to a person. But he's one of my detectives. I want him back, and I want the girl back."

Larkin smiled mirthlessly. "I saw him at the exchange. I recognized him, I had to come back for him. The opportunity was just too good to pass up. You have no idea the level of betrayal … what it's like."

"No, I don't.".

"And then I discover the icing on the cake… you. When I see the wealth of opportunity before me, it's astounding. I can't help but think that it's fate… or destiny. And I don't mean that new-agey touchy-feely sort, but the sort where old scores are settled and retribution for your crimes is meted out. It has an almost biblical, old testament feel to it. I start out wanting to make Bennett pay for selling out his country… my country, and Goren falls into my lap, the man who burned me with the Russians, unwittingly it's true, but nonetheless… And then I find out that Daniel Ross, the same Daniel Ross who was responsible for blowing my cover with Mossad is now Robert Goren's boss."

"Did you ever consider that maybe you weren't cut out to be a field agent, if all it took to derail your cover was two simple cops, doing their jobs?"

"Bennett should have told me that CID was investigating that soldier's death. How Goren figured out about his connection to the arms smuggling case I was working on..."

"That's what he does. That's what a good detective does. He connects the dots."

Larkin was massaging his right temple. "And then there's you. What was it? Just a casual conversation between two fellow Mossad agents…?"

"I was never in Mossad. I've never been to Israel. Although I do plan on visiting at some point." Ross wasn't sure where this was going to lead, but he was feeling a bit apprehensive. "And as far as I know, Jeremy Fallon has never been in Mossad either. Neither of us had any information about you, we wouldn't even have known who to contact to talk to Mossad."

"Well, I really don't believe that. Two bright, intelligent Jewish boys like yourselves. I find that highly unlikely."

"You know what I find highly unlikely? That you weren't responsible for Jeremy Fallon's disappearance. It's been twenty years and he hasn't surfaced anywhere. I've kept a watchful eye out. At this point in my life and career, I do know people, twenty years ago I didn't... we didn't. Jeremy Fallon's body has never been recovered either."

"Well, Danny. I'd stop holding my breath if I were you. At this point in my life and career, I think it's a highly improbable outcome."

Larkin staggered at the intensity of the pain that shot through him and Ross grabbed him and slammed him up against the wall of the elevator.

"Larkin." He shook the other man, trying to get him to look him in the eye. "Where are they? Tell me about Paige Bennett and Robert Goren!"

That did the trick. "No! They're mine!"

“May I see him?” Liev Tamarov nearly pleaded with the nurse at the front desk. It was important for him to see the young man; he had to know Robert Goren was all right.

Marie smiled sympathetically. “I’ll check. He’s been restless, you know. Maybe you can calm him down, okay?”

Liev did not like the sound of that. It was true that Goren didn’t sleep well, if he slept at all. Many afternoons, the young man would come into his deli looking concerned and distracted. Until recently, he would come alone and pick at his food. Now, he brought that girl with him although all they ever talked about was their police work.

Today, it was Liev’s turn to be concerned and distracted over the boy. He watched the nurse walk through the swinging doors, and tried to look inside. The only thing he saw were nurses rushing around a bed with ice packs and blankets. Suddenly, there was a crash. A woman’s voice telling someone to lie back down. Liev marched through the doors before anyone could stop him. “Please excuse me. Can I help?”

Bobby immediately stopped struggling, and blinked myopically at the shorter man. “Mr. Tam...arov? Can you... umm... I need to go now. Tell them to let me go, okay?”

Liev stepped around the desk nurse, Marie. Reaching out, he held Bobby’s hands. “No, no, Goren. You must stay and rest.” He smoothed away sweat-matted hair, wincing at the unbearably hot skin under his fingertips. “Come, now. Lay back down. I will be here.” The butcher looked at each nurse, confirming his statement. When they nodded, he continued. “You have fever that is very bad. These nice nurses are trying to help, and you are being difficult.”

Recognition dawned, and relief flooded his face. “Hospital, right? Not back... there.” He suddenly relaxed and calmed. The nurses lay him down on the bed, and he took a deep breath. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Is all right, Bobby. I will be here.”

“Can’t. He’s still there,” Bobby said, eyes dark and haunted. Curling up on his side, he kept a hold of the Russian’s hand. Something had to ground him, keep his mind from floating away.

“Who is– who are you speaking of? There is no one here.”

Bobby closed his eyes against the brightening lights. “Don’t let me fall asleep.”

“You must! Do you want to stay in these cold blankets forever? I think not.”

The nurses fussed more over the patient. They were talking about an incoming car accident and the need for more bodies to handle the triage. “Sorry. Gotta turn up the lights. Jennifer?”

“I know, I know. Get Dr. Kirkus. She’s not going to like it that we still don’t have him in a room yet.”

Jen snorted. “Good luck with finding something though, don’t forget that tour bus accident this morning.”

“Aww, crud. I’ll find something.”

“Aww, crud? Jen, you’ve been hanging out in Pediatrics too long.” Marie tucked another ice pack behind him, making him shiver more. “Do what you can, Jennifer. Sorry, Mr. Goren, but we have to get you cooled down.”

“Thirsty…” Bobby said sleepily.

Liev looked around for something to get Goren a drink with. The nurse nodded quickly. “Sorry, he can only have a few ice chips. We need the IV to rehydrate him. It will be much more effective than liquids doing the job.”

“I will wash hands. Be right back.” Liev felt the intense stare at his back; Bobby needed him to come back. He grabbed an empty cup, and headed for the corridor. When he returned, he found Bobby clutching his blanket tightly.

“He’ll be right back, sir. Please calm down.” The nurse tried to soothe her patient, however it seemed to make him more anxious.

Bobby said with a fraction of an impish grin. “I can remember things.”

“Well, that's good. But I still need you to lie back, rest and…”

“Yeah. Fever. Got it.” Bobby knew in his heart that if he went to sleep, Larkin would haunt his dreams. He barely heard Nurse Marie tell him not to worry so much, or Liev tell him to go to sleep. Closing his eyes, Bobby tried to ignore the chaos of his formerly highly organized memories. The doors he had carefully constructed were nearly destroyed, imaginary glass from broken picture frames scattered across the floor of his hall.

Bobby knew to make sense of what had happened to him, he would have to reorganize his memories. Starting at the far end of the hall, he began the task of restructuring each room. In his mind, he saw a new door wedged in between the damaged doors.

“Yes, sir… No, sir… This isn’t a joke…” Kevin paced his office waiting for his– what? Friend? Girlfriend? – to emerge from the bathroom. Audrey had some workout clothes in her car, and ran to get them for the her. The phone was hot against his ear as he tried to convince Paige’s father, a U.S. senator, that his only daughter had been found. Well, escaped actually.

“Why would she come to you? You’re the one–”

“No. Sir… I had nothing to do with this… That was a lie. I can’t explain why someone said it was me, thought it was me.”

“Where is she? Why didn’t she call herself? I swear, Kevin…”

“Please, Senator. Just come down to my office. Try to avoid the press, okay? She’s pretty mixed up right now.”

There was a sigh on the other end. “What do you mean mixed up?”

Oh my God! Are you serious? “Look, Martin. She’s been drugged, I’m sure she hasn’t had a meal in days, and she’s been running around in this weather. She is a little out of it.” Kevin rubbed his temple with his free hand. “The sooner you get here the better. She should feel better in her own clothes, and be around people she knows.”

“You’re right. I’ll be there as soon as I can. But I have to tell the FBI.”

I’m sure they know already. “We’ll be waiting, Mr. Bennett.” As he cradled the phone, Paige stepped out, looking more her old self. She went directly into his open arms with a smile. “So glad you’re okay,” he said, voice faltering a little.

Paige had never known him to really get very emotional about anything. She took it as a good sign. Maybe they both were going to be okay now.

Danny was able to subdue Larkin without much trouble. The man did seem to be in excruciating pain. “I’ll never tell you.” Larkin steadied himself against the wall. He was quickly losing this battle, and he could feel it.