Chapter 1: Total Eclipse of the Heart

Blaze with the fire that is never extinguished. --Luisa Sigea

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This takes place immediately after the last scene in Smile...

The ride back to headquarters was silent. Usually they discussed what transpired, unless one of them was upset, and this time, Goren had shut down entirely. It's too late...

She really thought that he had destroyed any aspirations she had toward the captaincy or beyond, just by being her partner. He had no idea how to respond to that, or what to think about it. All he knew was that he hurt, and although it was a familiar pain, he was really getting tired of it. Somewhere along the way over the past year, his entire life had derailed and he had no idea how to clean up the train wreck it had become. He'd thought he and Eames were doing better. Obviously, he was wrong.

When they got back to headquarters, Eames turned toward him as if to say something, but he got out of the car before she could say a word and headed for the elevator. He heard her call his name, but he ignored her. Screw his manners...he just wanted to get done with what he had to do and go home. He didn't want to talk. Not right now.

He was already at his desk, plowing through paperwork when she got to her desk. "Bobby?"

He didn't answer right away, or even acknowledge the fact that he'd heard her. When she called his name a second time, he swallowed hard and, fighting to keep his expression neutral, looked up. "What is it, Eames?"

He was impressed at how even his voice sounded. She studied him and leaned over her desk toward him. "You have to understand..."

He waved a hand. "I do understand. Forget it. I really don't want to discuss it."

"But..."

"I said...forget it."

He turned back to his work, determined to get it done as quickly as he could so he could get the hell out of there. The last thing he wanted was for the entire squad to be witness to another blow up between him and his partner. Ignoring her, he finished the forms, signed what he had to and shoved the ones needing her signature onto her desk.

She looked up from her own paperwork "Are you going to book Leslie?"

"No," he answered shortly. "I'm done for the day."

"So you expect me...?"

He finally met her eyes. "No," he interrupted, which was uncharacteristically rude for him. "I don't expect anything from you anymore, Eames."

That time he had been unable to hide his pain, and he knew he had to get out of there. He grabbed his binder and headed for the elevators. Sensing she would follow him, he changed course in mid-stride and slammed open the stairwell door. He wasn't wrong. He heard her call to him as he rounded the ninth floor landing. He moved faster.

He got to his car, started it and backed out of the spot. Slamming the transmission into drive, he headed out of the garage, glancing once in the rearview mirror as Eames ran out of the stairwell. He wasn't surprised when his phone rang, and he ignored it. He also made up his mind not to go home, and he headed his car uptown from his apartment. There was only one person he knew who could help him, and he silently prayed she wouldn't turn him away.

Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you're never coming around
Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears
Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by
Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit terrified and then I see the look in your eyes
Turnaround, bright eyes, every now and then I fall apart
Turnaround, bright eyes, every now and then I fall apart
Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit restless and I dream of something wild
Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit helpless and I'm lying like a child in your arms
Turnaround, every now and then I gt a little bit angry and I know I've got to get out and cry
Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit terrified but then I see the look in your eyes

Turnaround, bright eyes, Every now and then I fall apart
Turnaround, bright eyes, every now and then I fall apart
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She stepped out of the shower and toweled off before heading into her bedroom. Just as she pulled the oversized sweatshirt over her head, the door buzzer sounded. She frowned. She wasn't expecting anyone. All she wanted was to spend a nice quiet evening at home, undisturbed by the chief or anyone else. Was that too much to ask?

Pulling the door open, she was very surprised to see the man who stood there, leaning against the wall beside the door. He gave her a sad smile. "I'll leave if you want me to," he said quietly. "But...I...I really need you."

She studied him for a long moment, seeing the pain he made no attempt to hide. She wasn't quite sure she'd heard him right. "Excuse me?"

He groaned softly, wondering if he'd made a mistake showing up on her doorstep, unannounced. No...it was a mistake showing up at all. "I'm sorry. I...I should have at least called. Never mind..."

He pushed away from the wall and began to head down the hall toward the elevators. "Bobby," she called softly.

He stopped, hesitated, then turned toward her, a silent question on his face. She could still see the raw emotion in his eyes. He was no longer hiding from her. "Say it again," she encouraged gently.

"I'm not playing games," he muttered, struggling to keep the emotion from his voice. "I-I need you...but..." He shrugged, defeated. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does matter. You haven't needed me for a long time."

He looked at her in silence. "That's not true," he protested.

"Yes. It is." She watched him shift uncomfortably. "Something happened."

"Just...one more thing in a long line of events that have been unraveling my life, that's all. Good night, Denise."

The sight of his broad back as he walked away troubled her. "Don't."

He stopped, half turning toward her. "Don't? Don't what?"

"Don't take one step forward, then a giant leap backwards, Bobby." She motioned to him. "Come on, baby. Let's talk."

He watched her turn and head back into her apartment. He only hesitated a moment before following her.

And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you'll only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever
And we'll only be making it right
Cause we'll never be wrong together
We can take it to the end of the line
Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time
I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks
I really need you tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight

Once upon a time I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
There's nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart
Once upon a time there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart

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She sat up in the dark. Beside her, he stirred, but he didn't waken. Reaching out, she lightly ran her fingers through his hair. In his sleep, he sought her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing his forehead into her side as she sat there. She stroked his head and gently rubbed his back. He sighed softly and his muscles relaxed under her fingers. If he'd been on the edge of another nightmare, it had slipped away without grabbing hold.

Turnaround, bright eyes
Turnaround, bright eyes
Turnaround, every now and then I know you'll never be the boy you always wanted to be
Turnaround, every now and then I know you'll always be the only boy who wanted me the way that I am
Turnaround, every now and then I know there's no one in the universe as magical and wondrous as you
Turnaround, every now and then I know there's nothing any better and there's nothing I wouldn't do
Turnaround, bright eyes, every now and then I fall apart
Turnaround, bright eyes, every now and then I fall apart

She wondered if the man who had come to her that night was the reality or the illusion. His pain had been raw; his remorse seemed genuine. But in the light of day, would everything change? He had never been one to use her, but over the past year, he had transformed into a man she no longer knew. Could it be that he was rediscovering the man who'd gone away, the one she had fallen in love with years ago? Did she even dare to get her hopes up? She wasn't sure she could handle any more disappointment at his hands. If this was real, if he was truly back, then there was a chance for them. If not...She closed her eyes and swallowed a soft sob. If not, then this was the end. She would never do this again.

And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you'll only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever
And we'll only be making it right
Cause we'll never be wrong together
We can take it to the end of the line
Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time
I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks
I really need you tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Once upon a time I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
There's nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart
Once upon a time there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart

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A/N: Total Eclipse of the Heart is by Bonnie Tyler. I don't generally write songfics, but sometimes the lyrics of a song just fit and so I use them.

Chapter 2: Tightrope at the Edge of His Control

When Eames came into the squad room Monday morning, relief flooded through her at the sight of her partner sitting at his desk. After his abrupt departure Friday afternoon, she had tried to reach him all weekend, going as far as to find some excuse to be near his neighborhood so she could drop by his apartment. He was not home.

She sat down and pulled a file folder from its place, checking the contents once before handing it over to him. "You need to sign these."

He took the folder in silence, without looking at her face. She watched him open the folder, sign the forms and close it before handing it back and returning to his work. She sighed. "Bobby, we have to discuss this."

"No, we don't."

"Yes, we do," she insisted. "Now come on...unless you would rather hash this out right here, in the middle of the squad room, in front of God and everybody."

He didn't respond, but he stopped writing. Finally, he set down his pen, got to his feet and walked off. She followed him into a conference room, closing the door behind her. Folding her arms across her chest, she waited for him to turn to face her, which he did. She sighed. "I tried to get in touch with you all weekend," she said quietly. "You weren't home."

"No. I wasn't."

"Would it help if I apologized?"

"For what? For answering my question honestly?"

"Not honestly, Bobby. Harshly. Do you remember what I said when the mayor's drug task force was looking for officers?"

He nodded. "You said you didn't do the job for recognition."

"I still don't. But the Quinn case drove a lot of things home for me. I was...angry with you, for opening old wounds and rubbing salt in them."

He shook his head. "I never intended..."

"I know. I know. You never intended to hurt me. You were after justice. But justice comes in many forms, Bobby. Delgado deserved to be in jail."

"Maybe so, but not for Joe's murder. He didn't do it."

"Does everything have to be so black and white with you?"

He looked at her with the open face of a child trying to understand a concept that was alien to him. "I was just trying to do the right thing," he said softly.

She nodded. "I know. You always try to do the right thing, whether the rest of the world agrees with you or not. And that's the problem, Bobby. You don't just step on people's toes. You trample them. People look at you bull dozing your way through a case, and it all reflects on me, as the senior partner. I'm supposed to call the shots, but I give you your head and let you do whatever you have to do to get the bad guy. I wonder if that has been a mistake."

He looked at the floor and shifted uncomfortably. "Do you want another partner, Eames?"

When she didn't answer right away, he looked up, which was what she was waiting for. "No, Bobby. I don't want another partner. But I do want my partner to stop for a moment every once in awhile and reflect on how his actions impact the people around him. Sometimes I wonder if you really care about anyone, including yourself."

He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "I do care. How does it make you feel, knowing we put the right men in jail for killing Joe and Kevin Quinn?"

"Honestly? I don't know. Drug dealers and gangsters deserve to be in jail. I'm not so sure I could say the same about doctors and children."

"So you would have men serve life sentences for crimes someone else got away with?"

"Come on, Goren. You know they've committed crimes several times over that would get them the same sentence!"

"That's not the point, Eames. Justice is about putting the right people in jail for the crimes they committed. We can't go around meting out our own brand of justice, or we're no better than the criminals we pursue. I'm sorry I hurt you. I never intended that. Never." He rested a hand over his chest. "And if you really think I am hurting your career..."

She raised a hand and he trailed off. "All I can do is damage control. But I'm not sure exactly what my ambitions are any more. I lost the best thing in my life when Joe died, and I never got that back. I've never come to terms with that, I guess." She sighed. "I'm not going to ask you to change who you are, Bobby. But a little consideration, as your partner, would be nice from time to time."

"I'm sorry," he answered, but she couldn't read him.

She was certain he was sorry, but she had no idea what he was really apologizing for. She studied him for a moment. "Where were you all weekend?"

"With a friend. Are we done now?"

"I guess so."

Without another word, he left the room and returned to his desk. She stayed there for a little while longer, reflecting on what she had said and how it had hurt him. Maybe he had not lost his caring heart after all.

She returned to her desk, wavering between remorse and vindication, not certain if either was what she should be feeling right now.

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Danny Ross was beginning to wonder if there was any such thing as a good day any more. He did not regret going to bat for Goren in the Quinn case. He'd taken a gamble, based not only on his detective's record but on his own experience with Goren over the last year. It was, in his opinion, a sure bet. He had trusted Goren not only to be right about Sang's innocence but also to find the real perp. Goren had gone a step beyond and found Joe Dutton's real killer in the process. That had not gone over well with anyone, particularly with Eames. Ross wasn't sure what to make of that, but he trusted the partners to work it out, and it seemed that they had...until Friday.

He wasn't sure what had transpired, but he had a strong feeling something had happened. Goren seemed abnormally quiet; he blew through his paperwork and left the squadroom. What tipped him off to the fact that something was off was the way Eames took off after him and came back wearing a worried frown. But when he'd asked her, she assured him everything was fine. He didn't believe her but again, he trusted them to work it out. As usual, his trust was not misplaced. It was now Wednesday, and things between the two detectives seemed better.

As he sat reviewing Leslie LeZard's booking documents and the evidence against her, including the confession Goren had gotten, there was a knock on his door. He looked up to see Chief of Detectives Kenny Moran, looking harried. One thought flashed through his mind. What did Goren do now?

"Do you have a moment, Danny?" the chief asked.

Ross closed the file and nodded. The chief came into the office, closed the door and sat down.

Twenty minutes later, a dark frown on his face, Ross opened the door. "Eames! You and your partner get in here."

Ross didn't miss the guarded looks on both detectives' faces as they came into the office. Goren closed the door and stood off to the side to observe and listen, as he usually did. Recent events made him even more wary of the chief, and Ross understood that. Eames remained near her partner, which reassured the captain as much as the suspicious look on her face did. Ross knew she could be unforgiving, and the chief's treatment of Goren after the Quinn shooting still did not sit well with her.

Ross asked, "Do either of you know the chief's assistant?"

"We both know her," Eames answered.

Moran got to his feet and said, "Denise didn't come in this morning. I have worked with her for fifteen years, and she has never just not showed up for work, so I sent a team over to her apartment. It's been ransacked, and Denise has vanished." He looked from one detective to the other. "Find her. Please."

Eames looked at her partner, surprised to see the tail end of a powerful reaction on his face. She knew he had dated Denise, but she wasn't sure how close to the chief's assistant he was. Shifting her gaze to the captain, she saw that he, too, had noticed Goren's reaction. That unsettled her. Goren was not likely to be forthcoming when the captain confronted him. Hell, she wasn't even sure he'd talk to her.

The chief turned toward Ross. "Keep me informed every step of the way, Danny."

"I will, chief."

They watched the man leave the office and both Ross and Eames turned toward Goren. "Are you all right, detective?" Ross asked.

"Yes," he replied, but Eames heard the tension in his voice and she guessed Ross did, too.

"Is there going to be a problem with you working this case? Say so now and I'll give it to someone else."

"There's no problem," Goren insisted.

The captain tore a piece of paper from a pad and handed it to Eames. "There's her address. CSU should still be there. Get going."

As they left the office, Eames kept her eye on her partner. He seemed...shell-shocked. When they got back to their desks, he closed the file he'd been working on and grabbed his binder, heading directly for the elevators. She grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and trotted after him. "Bobby...?"

"I'm fine, Eames."

"Something is wrong."

"Yes. We have a missing person to investigate."

"You know what I mean."

"We know her, Eames," he growled as they got onto the elevator. "Are you trying to tell me you're not concerned?"

"Of course not. I like Denise. But you seem..."

"Upset?"

"No. More than that."

He closed his eyes for a moment, and she wondered what was going through his head. "Never mind. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I'm...concerned."

He wasted no time exiting the elevator and heading for the car. Shaking her head, Eames followed him. She was going to get nothing from him until he was ready to give it. All she could do was get to the scene as quickly as she could, knowing he would be restless until they got there. She hated when he got like this, and knowing the victim would only make him worse. Sighing, she slid behind the wheel, started the car and headed out of the parking garage.

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Eames expected Goren to settle once they got to the scene, like he usually did, but he surprised her. His agitation actually increased as they walked down the hall to Denise's third floor apartment. The sight of the crime scene techs milling about--collecting samples, dusting for prints, searching for evidence—unsettled him even more.

His eyes scanned the living room. A bookcase had been knocked over, with smashed pictures and knick-knacks littering the floor among an assortment of books, mostly novels. The cushions were off the couch, one of them torn. He walked slowly down the hall, pausing in the doorway of each bedroom.

"A two-bedroom apartment," Eames commented. "What am I doing wrong?"

Goren indicated the smaller bedroom. "Her brother goes to Dartmouth. That's his room."

She followed him into the master bedroom, wondering again just how well he knew her. He wandered around the room's perimeter, pausing to look out the window into the street below. "Bobby?"

He turned his head to look at his partner, eyes guarded. "This...was staged," he said quietly. "Most of it anyway."

"What makes you say that?"

"The only other explanation for the destruction is rage, and I don't know anyone harboring that much anger toward her."

She studied him for a moment. "I didn't know you knew her that well."

He looked at her for a moment, but his face revealed nothing. He headed back to the living room as one of the techs called to him. "We found blood," the tech told him. "We've already gotten a sample."

Goren was unable to fully suppress his reaction, but he got it quickly under control, as he had in the captain's office. He walked to the far side of the toppled bookcase, squatting beside the pool of blood that had soaked into the carpet. "Have you found any other trace?"

"Not yet."

Eames came down the hall. "Did you know Denise had someone living with her?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Half a dozen men's suits in the closet, two pairs of his shoes, his clothes in the smaller dresser...jeans, t-shirts... It might not be full time, but we need to find out who he is."

"Th-that's not necessary," he murmured.

"What are you talking about?"

"He...wasn't living here full time," he said quietly.

"Did she tell you who he is?"

Without answering, he turned away from her and squatted down, picking up a smashed figurine from the debris. Hoping for some kind of answer to the question he ignored, she bent over and picked up a picture, turning it over...and she stared at it. "Bobby?"

When he looked at her, she slid the picture out of its ruined frame, careful not to cut her hand on the broken glass, and handed it to him. He looked at the picture and closed his eyes. A wave of intense emotion washed over him like a storm surge and he almost lost it. It took a huge effort for him to keep himself together.

Eames thought he looked ill. When she touched his arm, he slowly opened his eyes and looked at her, his face now carefully guarded. He shifted his eyes quickly away, back to the photo in his hands. "She...loves this picture," he murmured, swallowing hard.

Eames looked at him for a moment longer, then she hunted down the head tech. After a brief conversation with him, she returned to the living room, grabbed her partner's shoulder and said, "Let's go, Goren. We need to talk."

Without a word, he tucked the picture into his binder and followed her from the ruined apartment, unable to rid himself of the rock that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Chapter 3: Revelations

They walked in silence to the SUV, and Eames started it, pulling away from the apartment building. Leaving the disturbing scene behind, she glanced at her partner. She didn't like what she saw, so she decided not to head back to 1PP right away. Instead, she headed downtown, to the southern end of the island. He had withdrawn into himself so far that he took no notice of where they were, until she stopped the vehicle and turned it off. Gently, she nudged his arm. "Come on. Let's take a walk."

Coming out of a daze, he looked around. "Battery Park, Eames?"

"Would you rather talk in the squad room?"

"I'd rather not talk at all."

"Well, that's not an option. Let's go for a walk. The fresh air will do you good."

Realizing he had no choice, he got out of the car with obvious reluctance. They walked along the path toward the river in silence, until Eames finally said, "Okay, Bobby, let's have it."

"Have what?"

She sighed patiently, "Let's start with the picture."

"What's wrong with it?"

"Are you really not going to tell me anything?"

She glanced at him. He closed his eyes briefly, an image of the picture flashing behind his eyes, a picture of Denise...smiling and happy...with him... "What do you want to know?" he asked, his tone indicating defeat.

"I'd like to know where the picture was taken...and when," she gently prodded.

"Um...it was the summer before last. On St. Croix."

"In the Caribbean?"

"Yes."

"You were getting serious with her?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, shoving his other hand into his pocket. "You could say that, yes."

"And you never told me?"

"When did I ever discuss my love life with you, Eames?"

"This is serious, Goren."

"You think I don't know that? Look...shortly after we got back, my mother's cancer was diagnosed..." He drifted off, trying to find the right words for what he wanted to say. "Eames...my relationship with you isn't the only relationship in my life that my mother's illness nearly destroyed."

She heard the pain beyond the irritation in his tone. "She broke up with you?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"Why are you making me work so hard for this?"

"Maybe I don't want to talk about it."

She recognized his mood and decided it would be best at the moment if she stepped away from the discussion of the relationship. "The suits in the closet...?"

He nodded. "They're mine."

"I figured as much. I told Matt to exclude your prints from the scene."

"My prints...and my DNA."

She sighed. "When was the last time you were there?"

"This weekend. I left Monday morning."

She swallowed her irritation, unsure about where it even came from. "So that's where you were all weekend."

His only answer was a nod.

After a few moments of silence, she asked, "So what do we do?"

"I, um...I can make a few phone calls...see if she called anyone."

"You know her brother?"

"Yes... a-and her parents."

She looked at him, but was unable to interpret his expression. She decided to test the waters one more time. "Just how close to her are you?"

"Not as close as I used to be."

Frustration rose once more. "Dammit, Bobby..."

He let out a heavy sigh, filled with sorrow and deep regret. When he spoke, his voice was soft, his control tenuous. "At Thanksgiving, it wasn't just my partnership with you that was coming undone. My entire world was unraveling. Denise and I began...arguing...all the time...and she couldn't...no...no...she wouldn't take it any more. Just before Christmas...she...she left me."

Eames was quiet for a moment, not sure what she was feeling. "I don't know what to say, Bobby."

He shook his head. "Please don't say anything."

"Answer me one more question."

He sighed heavily. "What is it?"

"Do you love her?"

"Y-yes," he answered without thinking, but he caught himself before he said any more.

She was quiet as they continued walking. With great reluctance, she said, "You have to realize...this case..."

"I will not be taken from the case, Eames."

"Bobby..."

"No. I'll take a leave of absence."

"Oh, like that won't be obvious."

"Then I'll resign."

"You'll...what?"

His voice took on a tone she had never heard before. "This is not a random disappearance of some stranger, Eames. This is...this is my..." He trailed off, swallowing hard. "Sh-she's important to me."

"And that makes you too close," she said reasonably.

He trembled and looked at her. "How...how can you say that?"

"Bobby..."

He shook his head and turned his eyes down to the ground. She knew he was shutting down on her again and she sighed, letting the revelations he'd just made sink in. She wasn't at all sure how she felt. She knew Denise and liked her a great deal. She couldn't think of anyone who didn't like her; however, finding out about the nature of her relationship with Bobby left her feeling unsettled, though she had no idea why. But even though he had opened up to her a little, she still felt he was holding back, and that frustrated her. Why did he have to be so difficult?

He looked away as they walked, turning into himself and his thoughts. During the week he had spent with Denise on St. Croix, he had experienced the only time in his life when he had been purely happy. Days spent on the beach, in the surf, laughing and as carefree as he had ever been. Nights spent holding her, talking to her, and loving her—not the hollow motions of a body in need, seeking only to pleasure his partner and experience release, but love, real love, equally and passionately reciprocated.

He should have known it wouldn't last. Within a few short weeks of their return, his mother's lymphoma had been diagnosed and his world came crashing down around him, sending him into a downward spiral which culminated in her damning confession of his uncertain paternity and her death.

Stunned beyond caring about anything in life, he had hit rock bottom hard. When he came back to himself and took stock of his life, he found a ruined mess, not the worst of which was a damaged partnership and a floundering career. Denise had withdrawn from him, his life was in shambles, and he had no idea how to go about fixing it...but he was trying, and the results had been encouraging. Things were better with Eames, in spite of Friday's misunderstanding. And the past weekend had been very encouraging. There had been talking without arguing, laughter without guilt, loving without question. For the first time in many months, he was beginning to think there was a chance to repair his relationships with the two most important women in his life. And now...now he felt his life beginning to unravel again, and he had no idea how to stop it.

Eames kept him out of the squad room for the rest of the afternoon, knowing how much of a nightmare it would be trying to keep him settled in close quarters. Taking him to Battery Park had been the right choice. The water, she knew, always helped to settle him, and he did seem to calm down and regain his focus. She thought it oddly paradoxical that the restless water was what brought him a measure of calm. But then again, her partner was not a typical man.

"I don't think you should go home tonight," she said quietly as the sun began to sink in the western sky.

"Where do you suggest I go? I don't have that many options, Eames."

"Come home with me. I have that spare bedroom. And I owe you an apology, anyway."

"For what?"

"For taking out my frustration on you, that's what."

"Eames..."

"Don't argue with me. We'll get a quick bite and then go to my house. A decent night's sleep won't hurt you, Bobby. We'll have the preliminary crime scene report first thing in the morning and we can get busy. We'll find her."

"We..."

"Yes, partner. We."

He closed his eyes and fought down a powerful urge to retreat again. "I...I'll need to stop by my place for a clean suit."

"We can do that."

Almost reluctantly, he nodded. She was right. His life was quickly spinning out of control, and he desperately needed to grasp onto something that was not crumbling. If she was offering to provide anchor for him through this storm, he recognized the fact that he was going to need her. The last thing he needed right now was to ostracize himself any further from his partner. She was all that was holding him together at the moment.

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He opened the door to his apartment and said, "I'll be out in a minute."

"Take your time."

It had been months since she had been to his place and she was not surprised to find little had changed. Goren's life did not lend itself toward frequent household rearranging. He needed things to be stable and unchanging somewhere in his world. She noticed a framed picture on the television that had not been there before, and she was curious. Other than the picture of his mother on the bar near the kitchen and the one of him and his brother as kids on a small table in the corner, he had no pictures in his living room.

She picked it up and studied it. It was different than the one she'd found in Denise's apartment, but the subject matter was the same. It had been taken somewhere else, definitely not on a Caribbean island. He wore one of his best suits; she was in a simple but stunning dress. Both seemed happy and content. She found herself smiling sadly. They were a beautiful couple.

"Eames?"

Turning, she watched the expression on his face change when he saw the picture in her hand. Silently, she set it back in its place and, deciding against questioning him about it right at the moment, she just gave him a smile and said, "Let's get going."

She headed for the door and he followed, stopping to look at the picture. "Bobby?"

He hesitated a few moments longer, then followed her out of the apartment.

Chapter 4: The Chief's Input

Eames recognized the exhaustion in her partner and stopped for take out, which she dished up once they got to her place. But the emotional impact of the day took its toll on him and after poking at his dinner, only taking a few bites, he excused himself and went to bed. As Eames was cleaning up the few dishes, her phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, she groaned softly and answered, "Eames."

Have you made any headway, Eames? the captain asked.

"Not yet. We'll take a look at the crime scene preliminaries and decide where to go from there."

What did you do this afternoon?

"We ran into a dead end."

I'm getting a lot of pressure from upstairs on this one, as you can imagine. The chief is very fond of her and he wants her found, alive and well.

"We want the same thing, Captain, believe me."

Did you find out what was up with your partner?

"He knows her better than I do, and he was shocked by what happened. But he'll be all right."

Are you sure he can handle this?

"He can handle it. I'm positive."

Keep an eye on him, Eames.

"I will."

The line went dead and she closed her phone. The last thing they needed was for the chief to be breathing down their necks. Goren was still not his favorite officer after what happened with Patrick Copa, and she certainly had not made any brownie points with him when she'd stood behind her partner. Ross had also stood firmly in their corner and backed Goren fully. For that, Eames was grateful. But the chief was not a good man to piss off, and they had done that, royally.

Yet, in spite of any residual ill feeling, it was to them he came when Denise went missing. There was no denying the statistics. Goren and Eames had the best solve rate in the department. They would find her.

She stopped on the way to her bedroom to look in on Goren. His sleep was restless, which did not surprise her, but at least he was sleeping. She continued to her room.

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Deep in the night, he sat up, drenched in sweat and breathing hard as he struggled to escape from the hold of a vicious nightmare. "Bobby?"

The soft voice, filled with concern, was enough to allow him to shake the final vestiges of the dream from his mind. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, clamping his hands behind his pounding head, as she sat lightly beside him. "I-I woke you," he murmured. "I'm sorry."

She rested a light hand on the sweat-soaked skin of his back. "Don't apologize. Are you all right?"

"I...don't know."

She rubbed his back and he trembled, closing his eyes. "We'll find her," she said softly.

"I...I have a confession to make," he whispered, rubbing his temple. "Please understand."

"Understand what?"

"Why I never said anything."

"About...?"

"The picture you saw...in my apartment..."

After a moment, she said, "What about it?"

"It was taken up in the Catskills. We made a compromise. I prefer the mountains; she likes the beach. So we went up to the mountains for a weekend and then we spent the next week on St. Croix. I-I'd have done anything to make her happy. The compromise was her idea." He studied his hands in the dim light. "Her brother took that picture. It was...the day I married her."

To her credit, she did not withdraw from him, but she was stunned by his admission. Quietly, trying to keep the hurt and the accusation from her voice, she said, "You never told me."

"We agreed not to tell anyone."

"'We?'"

She knew him too well. "Come on, Eames, face it. Being married to me is not exactly a career-booster for a woman like her. I already hurt your career by being your partner. I wasn't taking any chances with hers. It was the right decision."

"But me? I'm your partner, Bobby. You could have told me."

He was quiet for a long time. "That was her way...of punishing me, for not letting her tell anyone. She agreed, but only if I also agreed not to tell anyone, and that included telling you. She likes you, Eames, and she understands that I'm...close to you. She thought I was being ridiculous, and she wanted people to know...but I was adamant about it. I was on the verge of calling it all off. So she agreed, but she said I had to follow the same restrictions, and that meant not telling even you. I...I had to agree."

"You punished her for loving you?"

"It wasn't a punishment. It was just...the way it had to be."

"You're an ass, Bobby."

"I know."

She sat there in silence, trying to process what he'd just told her. "Did she file for divorce?"

He shook his head slowly. "In February, she asked for one. I think she expected me to fight it, but...I was willing to give her whatever she wanted, so I guess you might say I called her bluff. She never filed. This weekend she told me she had hoped it would serve as a wake up call, but I was...numb, I guess. You saw that. I guess she did, too, and she had no idea how to snap me out of it."

"Neither did I," Eames admitted.

"I...was overwhelmed. Everything...culminated in my mother's death. After that, I guess I was finally able to let go and start to recover my bearings."

"So...she was going to take you back?"

"We were talking about it, but I think she was. We had a very good weekend...almost like it used to be. She said I was getting back to my old self, and she was happy to see that. There's...a chance...uh, was a chance..."

"Is, Bobby. We're going to find her."

"God, I hope so. I...I don't know if I can handle this."

"You can and you will. I'll make sure of it."

Another tremor coursed through his muscles. "How...how can I make this up to you?"

"Just keep it together, partner. We'll find her, and you can get your life together. You deserve to be happy, you know. And if she makes you happy..." she trailed off, leaving the statement open as she waited for his response.

"Yes, Eames. She always has."

She sighed quietly. "I know there was a reason I always liked her."

His hand closed on hers when it came to rest on his leg and he gently squeezed. "Thank you, Eames. You can go back to bed."

"Will you be all right now?"

"Yes. I'll be okay."

She lightly squeezed his hand, then got up and left the room. Settling back into her bed, she stared at the ceiling for a long time. Married...he was married. She wasn't sure what to make of that. There had been nothing from him to indicate anything had changed in his life. He wore no wedding band, at least not at work. She didn't remember Denise wearing one, either. They had been good at keeping their secret. Not even the 1PP rumor mill, which seldom missed anything, had gotten a whiff of that one. Bobby led two lives, something she had been made more aware of after his mother got sick and he hadn't told her. He had a work life, in which she figured prominently, and a private life that he excluded her from. He had never discussed his personal life, beyond a passing remark about former girlfriends or an offhand comment about his mother or his difficult past. She couldn't remember a time he talked about any current dating interests or plans. Once, she thought she knew him better than anyone. Now, she was fully aware that there was an entire, very important part of his life that he'd kept closed off to her, and she couldn't help resenting the woman who lived that life with him.

He folded his arms behind his head and stared off into space, turning his mind toward the past. He would never have predicted that his mother would have the ability to destroy his life, not after he had survived his childhood. He did believe that she had not intended for things to happened to him the way they did, but when she was diagnosed with lymphoma, his entire world was thrown into a tailspin. He'd struggled for months to keep it together, but the fabric of his existence was of a delicate weave, more easily unraveled than he ever imagined. And when he'd finally crashed, he hit much harder than he anticipated. His partnership was on rocky ground and his marriage was crumbling. His career was balanced precariously on a precipice, with only Ross keeping it from tumbling over the edge.

To his surprise, Ross seemed to have a firm hold on him. The captain wasn't certain about him, but he'd given him more chances than he felt he deserved. He was equally surprised, when the dust cleared, to find that Eames was still his anchor to the real world. They had stumbled, but they had not completely fallen. And Denise...after all he put her through, she was still there, waiting for him to come to his senses. All he had to do was reach out and she was ready to meet him halfway...or more, if he needed her, which he did. The past weekend had gone a long way toward restoring the balance in his life. He felt as though everything was getting back on track at last.

But now...now the light was gone from his life. When he tried to imagine his future without her in it, he saw nothing. They had to find her, alive and well, or it finally would be over for him. He had survived a lot of turmoil and grief, more losses than he could count...but if he lost her...that would be the killing blow. Without her, he could see no future. Sleep did not return.

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Ross wasn't in the office when they arrived in the morning, and the preliminary crime scene report had apparently not yet arrived. Goren explained on the way in that he had talked with Denise's mother and her brother, and neither had heard from her. He hated to worry them, but they would know something was wrong when they tried to reach her and couldn't. He promised to keep them updated and asked them to try not to worry too much, even though he knew better. Denise was close to her family.

It was almost nine when Ross came storming in, looking angry and harried. He pointed at Eames. "My office," he growled. "Just you."

She met Goren's eyes and shrugged, then followed the captain to his office. Ross dropped into his chair and propped his elbows on the desk, rubbing his temples. "This goes from bad to worse, Eames." He pulled a paper from his pocket and handed it to her as he opened the desk drawer and dumped two Nacedrol into his hand. Swallowing the two pills with the remaining cold coffee in his cup, he looked back at Eames, who was staring in disbelief at the form in her hands.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said quietly, disbelief in her voice and her face.

"I wish I was capable of bad jokes like that. He's dead serious."

"Captain, you can't...

"I have no choice. This isn't coming from me, Eames. This comes directly from the chief of d's. I just spent two hours in his office arguing the point. He will not budge. Now, before I bring your partner in, I want some straight answers from you. The chief got the preliminary crime scene report this morning. The only trace in the apartment belongs to Miss Rhodes and your partner. Can you explain that?"

"Yes. He spent the weekend there."

Ross looked surprised. "Why?"

"Because he's very close to her, captain."

"Oh, Eames...that is not what I wanted to hear."

"You wanted the truth."

Ross rubbed his forehead and muttered, "Get him in here."

Reluctantly, Eames left the room, returning with Goren. Ross looked up at him and sighed. "I know what this job means to you, detective. Believe me, I am going to do everything I can to straighten this out. I'm afraid I have to place you on suspension pending the outcome of this case."

Goren stared at him. "What? Why?"

"Because someone pissed in the chief's Post Toasties this morning. He flipped when he saw the crime scene preliminary. In his mind, detective, you have become the primary suspect in Miss Rhodes' disappearance."

"Suspect? Captain, I didn't do anything to her."

Ross nodded. "I believe you. I fought this, Goren, but the best I could do was get him to suspend you with pay. When I walked into his office, he wanted me to arrest you." He pointed a warning finger at his detective. "Tread lightly here, detective. If you so much as stick your nose past the line, the chief will have you arrested and charged with her disappearance. I'll do everything I can for you, but Moran has decided to call the shots in this matter. When did you see Miss Rhodes last?"

Goren frowned. "Monday morning."

"You were at her apartment all weekend?"

"Yes."

"Apparently she disappeared sometime between the time she left her office Tuesday night and nine Wednesday morning when she had to be here for work."

"Uh, I talked to her Tuesday night...at around eleven."

"All right, then, That narrows it down a little." He studied Goren for a long moment. "Don't make me regret this decision, detective. You are on suspension, but I will allow Eames to keep you updated. I'm certain she'd do that anyway. You can do whatever you are able to do, and let Eames know when you find anything. The chief cannot get wind of this collaboration. Do you understand me?"

Both detectives nodded. Eames looked at Goren, and then at Ross. "So who will I be working with...officially?"

"I will be working with you," Ross answered. "But Goren is still your partner." His gaze shifted to Goren. "I'll need your badge and your weapon, for the time being."

Goren's face was unreadable as he set the badge and the gun on the corner of Ross' desk and headed for the door. "Goren," Ross called. "Keep a low profile."

Without looking back, Goren nodded briefly and left the office. Ross did not miss the turmoil on Eames' face. "It will be all right, Eames. Just find Denise Rhodes."

Eames looked at him. "We intend to," she answered firmly. "And thank you, Captain, for sticking up for him again."

Ross nodded. "Just be aware that Moran likes him for this. He thinks the man finally snapped and Miss Rhodes caught the brunt of it."

"He would never hurt her. Captain...he is much closer to her than I ever realized."

"And being that close makes him the primary suspect. Clear this up, Eames, so I can give these back to him. On the books, he's suspended. But what he does with his time...well, that's up to him. Just tell him to be careful. I'm not so sure the chief trusts any of us at the moment." He stressed his next two words. "Low profile."

"He'll be careful."

Ross nodded and she left the office. She was deeply saddened to find her partner gone.

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He did not hesitate to break the crime scene tape and enter the apartment. The first thing he noticed was the open window. Cautiously drawing his back-up piece, he went through the apartment, but it was empty. Putting the gun away, he pulled out a pair of latex gloves and snapped them on. His memories of the day before were partially obscured by the haze of shock he'd been in. Now, a simmering fury had burned off any remaining haze and he could give the apartment the scrutiny it needed. He got to work.

He started in the bedroom and worked his way toward the living room. It was almost lunchtime when he saw the neatly folded paper bag resting in the debris in front of the couch. There was no way the CSU techs would have missed that. Whoever had kidnapped Denise must have returned and left it...but why?

Gently lifting the bag from the floor, he carefully unfolded it and opened it. Reaching in, he pulled out the contents: a single book. Frowning, he turned it over in his hands, and he nearly dropped it when he read the title: Moby-Dick.

He opened the book's cover and found an inscription in careful script:

Bobby, All Rhodes lead to me, darling. I never forgave you for what you took from me. Now it's time for me to repay you. But all is not lost. You can find her, before it's too late. If you can decipher the clues found in this book, you can be a hero once again. But it's not about that, is it? Not this time. Public records are wonderful resources, filled with all kinds of surprising tidbits. Your relentless pursuit of justice is your white whale, Bobby. In the end, as with Ahab, it will be your undoing.

With trembling hands, he pulled out his phone and called his partner.

Chapter 5: A Leap of Faith

Eames pushed the door to Denise's apartment open and stepped into the ruined living room. Her eyes searched the room, and she found him, sitting at the dining table, buried in a book. That struck her as odd. When he'd called her, he sounded close to panic.

When he heard her in the living room, he looked up. But before he could say a word, another body overshadowed the doorway and Ross came into the apartment. He studied Goren for a moment. "Is this your idea of 'low profile,' detective?"

Goren studied the captain. "I was...distracted yesterday. If I missed something...I didn't want to take that chance. Th-the person who kidnapped her...came back...an-and left something for me."

"For you?"

He flipped to the title page of the book in front of him and held it out. Eames took it, and the inscription sent a cold shudder down her spine. "No..."

Ross read it over her shoulder, then asked, "Someone you know, I presume?"

All Eames could manage was a nod. Goren took the book back and answered, "Nicole Wallace."

Ross had never heard a name spoken with more venom, particularly not from Goren. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"Nicole Wallace," began Eames with just as much venom as her partner. "...has been a thorn in our sides for the past five years. We have a sizable file on her."

Ross watched Goren page through the book, stopping on a page that was written on. "W-we have...until tomorrow...to find her," he murmured, pain raw in his voice.

"What makes you say that?"

"A passage she underlined...in Chapter Two: 'Now having a night, a day, and still another night following before me in New Bedford, ere I could embark for my destined port...' Sh-she took her...yesterday. That gives us until tomorrow."

"Any idea what her 'destined port' is?"

"Carthage."

"Excuse me?"

"Another passage she referred to. She wrote here: 'In ancient Carthage, shall we await Ahab.' Ishmael refers to New Bedford as 'the Tyre of this Carthage.' Tyre was a great Phoenician port that overshadowed its parent port, Carthage. In this case...Nantucket."

Eames raised an eyebrow at him. "Nantucket? Why wouldn't she keep her in New York?"

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