Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.
Zach Nichols slipped his long fingers into his leather gloves as he stepped out into the frigid New York weather. Shucking up his coat lapels, he entered the steady crowd of people moving up and down the crosswalks.
Head down, his mind on other things, he unconsciously picked a path, until he came to an abrupt stop when a person broke the flow of traffic.
Looking up, he found ready words leaving his mouth as he recognised the large figure before him, also rugged up against the cold. "Goren!"
The man was confused only a moment before recognition dawned. "Zach," he replied.
Said detective gave his one time colleague a once over as they stood in the middle of the path, other people seamlessly flowing either side of them.
He looked well enough, though his arms seemed to be centred on his chest. Was he hiding something?
The tall man never had a chance to put his query into words as Goren provided an answer when his coat fell open and Zach swiftly discovered two things: one, Robert Goren wore a thick banded ring on his left ring finger, and two, there was a child – presumably his child – strapped to his chest.
Very little shocked him, and indeed this was not truly shocking, though very much surprising. He was more intrigued, wondering what had come to pass in the years since he had last seen this man.
He soon realised that the man opposite him was analysing him just as closely. A large hand resting protectively on the little pink cap adorning the sleeping child's head, he maintained a steady gaze, as if daring him to ask questions.
It was just a one word question – after all, that was all that was necessary. "Eames?"
"Alex," he confirmed, and Zach swore the man smiled. "And Isolde," he added, his tone gentle.
"Congratulations," he offered, and it was heartfelt, for he knew the battles this man would have gone through for this.
"Thank you," and he knew his comment to be understood.
As Zach Nichols pondered the idiosyncrasies of life, the last view he had was of Robert Goren holding his phone to his ear, one hand ever present on the small form in his care.
He smiled a curious smile.
Finito.
