Part One

"Oh, God," he thought as he watched her walk away. "I've gone from Purgatory to Hell."

He turned and stared at the dead rat glaring at him from the drawer. He leaned down and discretely as he could took a brief whiff of the creature.

"No decomp," he thought. "A fresh kill…" He couldn't find any visible marks on the rat. "Probably poisoned…Probably from one of the traps around…You can always find a rat in New York City…"

He delicately gripped the rat by its tale. He made no effort to hide it or what he was doing, and he felt several eyes on him as he dropped the carcass in the wastebasket, carefully wrapped it up in the garbage bag lining the basket, and securely tied off the bag. He picked up the bag, and walked to the elevators. It was late enough that few people shared the car with him. Once on the ground floor, he walked quickly to the back of the building, and dropped the bag in the dumpster. He'd left the back door propped open, and returned to the eleventh floor, grateful that he didn't recognize the handful of people in the car with him. He headed immediately to the men's room when he arrived at the Major Case Squad room, and furiously scrubbed his hands. When he arrived back at his desk, he half-expected to find another rat in its drawers. He certainly felt that he at least partially deserved one, not for his treatment of Stoats and his pursuit of his badge, but for what he had done to Alex Eames. He froze as the terrible, awful thought that Alex might have placed the rodent in his desk floated through his hyperactive brain.

"No," he thought. "Eames hates bad cops more than you do…And…even in her greatest anger or worst moment, she wouldn't do that to anyone…She knows what being a rat means…" He shook his head. "I…I didn't read her…I've never been able to really read her…I…I couldn't risk…She has to understand that…I couldn't tell her…I…I didn't…Expect her to be that angry. Angry, yes, but not like that…I though she'd understand…I had to get my badge back…I had to get back with her…"

A shadow fell over his desk.

"Detective…A moment," Captain Ross said quietly.

A stone in his chest, Bobby followed the Captain into his office.

Ross hesitated. "Logan," he finally said deliberately. "Told me about the rat. He saw you throw it away."

Bobby winced, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"He was furious," Ross continued. "And, frankly, so am I. You are many things, Detective. Infuriating, exasperating, stubborn and smart among them. But you are not a rat. Stoat…Stoat is a rat."

Bobby stared at his feet. "I…I understand why he…It wasn't just the money and the drugs…Those were less important than the feelings…of entitlement…and anger…"

"You may understand those feelings," Ross said. "But you never acted on them…Believe me, Detective…If I find out who put that thing in your desk…"

Bobby waved a hand. "It doesn't matter…If it lets someone blow off some steam…It's fine…It's…It's Eames I'm worried about…"

Ross sighed. "I know…I've tried to explain to her that you wanted to tell her…To talk with her…To tell her what you were doing…That the decision that she had to be out of the loop came from the Brass…and from me. After she caught the case, it was just too dangerous." He smiled weakly. "She wasn't listening to anything yesterday. She seemed calmer today."

"She…she was angrier today," Bobby said. "When she's quiet, she's really angry." He stared at his feet. "I…I didn't really register it yesterday…What with closing the case…I…I was stunned." He shook his head. "I should've at least answered her calls…"

"Goren," Ross said patiently. "You had orders…from me and the Chief…not to have any contact with her…Any…"

"She's not just my partner," Bobby muttered. "She's my friend…I owed her…"

"Detective," Ross said patiently. "She'll cool off…Through all of this she's been your biggest supporter…She's contacted all of the support systems…She's gotten testimonials from other officers for you…She's pushed as much as she can…She didn't do all of that just to give up on you…"

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "He doesn't know," he thought. "He doesn't understand how angry she is…He doesn't understand how deep…how complicated our relationship is…I don't think I did…Ross doesn't know I came back for two reasons…Not just the job…Eames…I came back for Eames…"

"Know this, Detective," Ross continued. "I'm glad you're back…I want you and Eames to hit the ground running tomorrow…Once you're back working, I think things will be all right…"

"They won't," Bobby thought. "This is it…It's been coming for a long time…but this is it." He looked at Ross. "Yes, Sir," he said.

"Now," Ross said. "Go home…You look fairly good. I want you to stay that way. And if I find out who put that thing in your desk, there will be consequences."

"Don't worry about it, Captain," Bobby said wearily as he stood. "It's not worth your time." He picked up his binder and, without looking at the others in the office, strode from the room. As he neared the elevators, he felt nearly as depressed as he had the night Stoats found him in the bar. He reached to push the elevator button, and sensed someone behind him.

"Goren," Mike Logan said. "I was just leaving. Mind if I ride down with you?"

"Sure you want to be seen with me?" Bobby asked after a beat.

"Sure you want to be seen with me?" Logan replied genially as the elevator doors opened.

The presence of others in the elevator kept Bobby from answering until the car held only Logan and himself.

"The only other cop I'd want to be seen with is Eames," Bobby said.

"Wow." Logan shook his head. "I'm right up there with Eames…I'm honored, Goren, I really am."

Bobby stared at the flashing numbers. "Thank you…for telling the Captain about the…you know…"

"The bastard who put that thing in your desk is lucky I didn't see him," Logan snorted. "Would've stuffed it down his throat."

"That would've been a little drastic," Bobby said. "But, again…thanks…"

"Hey," Logan continued as they neared the lobby. "Let me buy you a drink in celebration of your return to the living. And you can buy me one for all the extra work I've done while you're gone."

Bobby hesitated. He'd gotten in the habit of drinking too much during his suspension. Lewis had gently chided him about it when they worked on some cars. He wanted to end the habit, and he didn't want to run into any cops. But he didn't want to return to his empty apartment, and, while he felt a strange need to talk to someone, ripping out his soul to Dr. Olivet wasn't appealing. He'd spent a lot of hours ripping out his soul, and he simply couldn't face another one. And Logan…he knew he could trust Logan.

"I know a place where we won't run into any cops," Logan said, as if he read Bobby's mind. "There's times when I don't want to be around my fellow officers. And don't worry…I never drank as much as you might've heard…And I've cut back…"

Bobby half smiled. "You know, Logan, I think your gut has more magic than mine. Especially lately."

Logan grinned. "Hey, hard work, it's hard work. Which I suspect is the same for you.'

"You're on to me, Logan," Bobby said. "I guess..." He fumbled with his binder. "I guess I gotta go with you."

"Good," Logan said and waved for a cab.

"But I gotta warn you," Bobby said. "I may not be the best company tonight."

"Warning noted," Logan said as a cab pulled up.

The bar was far enough away from One Police Plaza that Bobby knew few Major Case cops would know of let alone frequent it. When they stopped, Logan had the fare paid before Bobby could reach for his wallet. The bar was small and welcoming, lively enough to have a slight buzz, but not so noisy that it was annoying. The staff knew and liked Logan.

"So, Mike," the pretty, blonde, thirty-something waitress said as she took their orders. "Who's your friend with the chocolate eyes?" She winked at Bobby, who blushed and stared at his feet as if he were thirteen. He realized that it had been a very long time since a woman had flirted with him.

"This," Logan said expansively. "Is Bobby Goren…One of the best detectives in the NYPD and a great guy."

"I won't hold the source of that testimonial against him," the waitress laughed and headed off to get their drinks.

Bobby stared at the designs in the table's dark wood. "That…that's kind of you, Logan…to say that…But right now…I don't feel much like either thing…"

"Don't let the Brass get you down, Goren," Logan replied. "I've had a few suspensions…I think they may be good for you…Give you time to think…and make the Department realize it needs you…"

Bobby ran a finger along the table's edge. "Or…or make you realize how much you need the job…"

The waitress returned with their drinks and brushed her arm against Bobby's as she sat them on the table.

"She likes you," Logan smiled.

Bobby blushed again.

"Goren," Logan said after he sipped his drink. "Have you been keeping up with what's been going on with the Department?"

"Not…not much…Eames tried to tell me…" The thought of Alex darkened Bobby's mind.

"The Chief of D's probably needs you a lot right now." Logan leaned across the table. "SVU lost a detective a couple of weeks ago…a guy new to the squad who came over from Brooklyn, I think…I'm not sure of the details, but something from his past came up…A good detective in my old station house…Ed Green…IAB cleared him, but he resigned anyway…He worked with my old partner, Lennie Briscoe…" Logan leaned back in his seat and took another drink. "God, I miss Lennie…Anyway…Green was a good detective….Something from his past bit him, too…My point is…The Chief needs all the detectives he can get…He's alienated a lot of people…I know Ross isn't a regular at his poker games anymore…Just don't think you owe him anything…You've already saved his butt enough…"

Bobby stared into the depths of his drink. "I…I don't care about the Chief…I owe him a good job…That's all…Ross…I owe him and I'll pay him back…" He turned the glass in his hands. "It…It's Eames…She…She does all of this stuff for me…And…And I didn't even tell her I was undercover…"

"She knows the rules, Goren," Logan said, not without sympathy. "When you're undercover, sometimes you can't talk to anybody…"

"Yea," Bobby said. "It…It was seeing me…I…I sorta of expected her to come in that door…Ross warned me she was heading the investigation…And it still scared the hell out of me…I can't imagine what it was like for her…God…I mean…no insult to you…but I can talk to you, but not to her…What's going on with me?"

"They're making you get counseling, right? Is that helping? Or are you shrinking the shrink?" Logan asked.

Bobby knew somehow that Logan's comments weren't meant cruelly. "Yea…Dr. Olivet…She…she's actually helping…"

Logan was suddenly quiet. "Yea," he finally said. "I…I talked with her after I…My partner got killed…And…and after that shooting…She's good at her job…"

The waitress appeared with replacements for their drinks. The two men sat silently drinking for several minutes.

"I gotta talk to Eames," Bobby said like a man determined to go to his execution.

Logan nodded. "Yea…I think you do…and should…I've lost partners, Goren…A good partnership is worth saving…" He took a long drink. "And God help us if we wind up partners…"

"That…that's your reason for doing this?" Bobby said warily.

"Yea…purely selfish." Logan smiled. "But…" He grew serious. "Really, Goren…I…Well, you're a good cop…She's a good cop…You've got something great…Don't give it up without a fight…"

Bobby took a deep breath. "Thanks, Logan…I'll…I'll try…" He finished his drink. "I…I'll try now…"

"Before you go," Logan said. "I want to know…You could go other places…Do other things…Why was it so important to get your badge back?"

Bobby stood, and for a moment Logan thought he had pushed too far. Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "Pride, I guess," he said. "Wanting to prove myself…The familiar…For Ross…For Deakins…For cops like you…But mostly…mostly for Eames." He nodded at Logan. "Thanks."

Logan watched as Bobby walked away.

END PART ONE