Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns the characters, I do not.
A/N: This takes place after the arrival of Wheeler and Ross, but before the angst of Season 6. Thank you to Penn O'Hara for the fabulous beta reading and encouragement.
Bobby glanced at his watch when he heard Eames' desk drawer slide open. Time for her fruit break. Eames was on a health kick this week, bringing a bag of mixed fruit to work on Monday. Every morning around 10:30 she'd reach into her desk drawer and pull out something fresh to snack on.
The hint of a grin twitched across Bobby's lips as Alex debated her choices. He knew she'd much rather have her fruit wrapped in sugar and flour: maybe a blueberry bagel, or a cranberry-orange muffin, and no amount of wishful thinking was going to materialize even a packet of Skittles. Alex made a face at the contents of her drawer, put something orange on her desk blotter, and banged the drawer closed.
Pretending to give his paperwork his full attention, Bobby watched surreptitiously as Alex poked a short fingernail into the smooth skin of a tangerine. Seconds later he inhaled a fragrant burst of citrus.
"Tangerine," he said.
"Yeah, genius, it's a tangerine. You know your produce," Alex muttered as she tore off another piece of skin.
"No. I mean, I was just thinking…." Bobby trailed off. "You…you're like a tangerine, Eames. Small, tart, with a...thick skin."
Alex raised an eyebrow and bounced the last bit of peel off his chest. "Fruit psychology, Bobby? Puh-leeze." She broke the tangerine into segments and popped one into her mouth.
Bobby shook his head slightly. "Not psychology. Just…something fun to do instead of paperwork." He smiled.
"Now you sound like a Barbara Walters Special. 'If you were a piece of produce, what kind of produce would you be?'" Alex spit out a seed. "OK, let's play. Ross."
Bobby's nose wrinkled. "Brussels sprouts," he said immediately. "Or lima beans."
"He's not that bad, Bobby," Alex said around a mouthful of tangerine. "Maybe a stalk of broccoli."
"Must be the hair. Your turn." Bobby leaned forward. "Wheeler."
"She's a strawberry. Red hair, freckles. Definitely a strawberry."
Bobby nodded. "I can see that."
"What about Logan?" Alex asked. As she bit into another segment some juice squirted across her desk onto Bobby's binder.
"An onion." Bobby plucked a tissue from the boutique box on Alex's desk and meticulously cleaned his binder.
"C'mon, Bobby!" Alex added another seed to the small pile on her desk.
"No, seriously. Logan's an onion. He's thin-skinned and has a…distinctive flavor. And layers."
"I thought ogres had layers," Alex joked. "Sorry, we watched Shrek on DVD when I babysat my nephews last week. OK, Logan has layers."
"Your turn again, Eames." Bobby's boyish smile softened his face as he cupped his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Me."
"Oh, you're the easiest of all," she said, grinning tartly. "Tough on the outside, a softie inside, and a little goofy, like a…." She reached back into her drawer and tossed something across their desks.
Later that evening, Alex was still grinning as she recalled the look on Bobby's face when he caught the banana.