Tagline:
They were the literal translation.

Notes:
Set as a missing scene from the Season 3 episode "Pas de Deux"
Minor Spoilers from "Pas de Deux" (3.13)
Not Beta'd

Disclaimer:
No credit was assumed for any of the characters, whether major or minor, from the Law & Order: Criminal Intent television series.
The following story is fictional and does not represent any actual person or event.

Author's Message:
This is a take on a possible missing scene from "Pas de Deux" (3.13).
Happy Readings.

As Detective Robert Goren watched Margie Timmons walk away from him, for a moment he could not find the strength to keep his trained eyes on her. Somewhere in the room around him there was a call to him, somewhere on the thresholds of sound there was an opportunity to take. For a second he stopped to listen to the stillness in the air but heard nothing and instead felt a pull that wanted to drag his sight to his feet. Struggling to keep composure, he fought against it and looked back up to find his partner walking to his side.

Detective Alexandra Eames spoke to him and he replied back with his initially findings of Mrs. Timmons. Nevertheless, the beckoning from the atmosphere continued to battle against him, and no matter how he tried to fight the temptation he could not win. Eventually he surrendered to the summoning and looked down to where it was coming from and found a surprise.

The dance floor looked so inviting.

The softness of the hardwood floor under his feet was engaging, the coolness of the light softly illuminating the gloss that covered the planks. Warmth was hovering over the wood, begging to crawl into his body and up his spine to release his mind. He wanted it so desperately, to feel it enter him and flow through his skin and bones. Focusing his stare even deeper revealed the scuff marks that formed the notes to the fading music in the air. The caressing of the song against his ears while it twirled along the notes on the ground could stun all of the men of art and their counterparts, the men of science. He was a man of both worlds, and therefore found a greater wonder and ecstasy.

"Bobby," said Eames, drawing him from his daze.

He looked up to her and caught a couple moving slowly behind her, moving to the melody with a gentle sway. There were others just like them, some old and others young, some experts and others beginners, in various stages in the room. A state of contentment was everywhere, coursing through all things that breathed in harmony. Then he understood. To anyone else it was a tender moment meant for those elite enough to recognize it, making it a private revelry. Yet to him he could simply see the clearness of the provocation all around him, embracing him in the beauty.

It was an honor to be the receiver of an invisible invitation from the dance.

A hand touched his forearm, and he turned his attention back to his partner. She was giving him a quizzical look with raised eyebrow and furrowed forehead. Calmly, and with the song finishing, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the left, locking eyes with her, and decided to extend his gift to her.

"Um, w-would you like to, to, uh, d-dance?"

He watched as her soft, light brown eyes processed his query, and within a moment she sent him a playful grin. "Sure," she replied.

She released his arm and moved her hand to his, and he turned his hand so their palms met. Slowly he lead her out to the dance floor, where their shoes landed a new staff was drawn and where the scuffs crossed it a new tune was being composed. He took her to a desolate corner close to the window and stopped, turning to face her. There was a small hint of a blush on her cheeks, but not enough of one to makes nerves rattle in him. He settled her palm more comfortably in his larger one and delicately bid her towards him, and she moved one step closer to him. While eyeing her small feet she rested her other hand on his shoulder, finding the dip of his collarbone and curling her fingers over his shoulder. With his eyes on her he cautiously reached behind her and rested his hand against the small of her back, cupping it perfectly.

His eyes were there to meet hers as she looked back up at him. The new song commenced, spinning slow at first. His ears picked up on the tempo and the style, allowing him to set her up for the soft, slow ballad to follow. Graciously he took the first step, but it was not until she took the following one that the vision of the dance overtook his senses and transformed everything into a mural of magnificence.

For suddenly the room had grown into a massive ballroom, complete with tall hand crafted paintings of famous people from times long time gone. Bright colors were everywhere, draping over windows at least two stories tall, bedecking the large sets of chandeliers with lead crystal covering the candles, wrapping around the multitude of bodies to create stunning apparel. The music intensified as if a live musician's guild was seated just meters away. Elegance surged as he looked around to the others in their party, with tailored form-fitting suits with elaborate pins, medallions, and cufflinks, dresses with pearls, precious gems, and priceless metals. Catching a glimpse of himself in a freshly polished mirror, he was almost surprised at his own appearance.

He appeared so neat in his reflection, almost a stranger to his own eyes. A seal brown suit covered an off white dress shirt that clung to his frame, elongating his height and bringing out the colors of his eyes. But as he inspected his arms he saw silky arms that were not his there, and he turned away from the mirror and nearly gasped. Captivation dazzled his eyes as he stared at her, a gold colored dress with complementing seal brown scarf wrapped about her neck and shoulders. Her golden hair was reflecting off of the lights from overhead, her light golden brown eyes sparkling in delight as they danced.

She was completely breathtaking as they twirled about the dance floor, both feeling the pulse of the music through the music composing itself in the floor. He felt lighter than air as they became oblivious to everyone around them, both finding solace in the beating of one another's hearts. They could feel the deep platonic love that bound them together as they moved in fluid motions. She pulled him closer as they sidestepped another pair, pressing herself into his large chest and resting her head against his heart. He adjusted his palm and curled his fingers so he was clasping her hand, and he rested his chin lightly on the top of her head. Together they closed their eyes but could still see everything about one another. It was a superlative sight, to see two people, after many weeks of separation to find the key, the signature, the original song of their intertwined lives again.

They were a literal translation of the phrase pas de deux. They were the epitome of the words not any two. They were special, connected by the invisible heartstrings of dragons and magic. Nothing could sever them.

The music began to die away, and the detectives opened their eyes to find themselves back in the dance studio. The extravagant clothes, the powerful colors, all parts of the illusion were gone. They continued to move slowly until the sounds had completely dissipated into silence, and only then did they break apart. She dropped her hands while he released his holds on her, but they shared a deep stare for a moment before their peace was tucked away.

"Ready to get back?" she asked.

He refrained from answering for a brief instant, scanning the room. The dance, he could feel, was bowing a farewell to him. It was not caustic or cold, but it was one that simply said thank you. There was a hint of an invisible wink, another invitation to come back someday and perform another dance to their melody.

Looking back to her and meeting her eyes, he said, "Yeah." He paused before he added, "Thank you."

She smiled warmly up at him. "Thank you," she repeated sincerely.

He grinned back sheepishly, and they fell back into their roles of the sleuths they were born and raised to be. They returned to the two detectives of brains and brawn who could control the balance of the universe with a single look, a simple smile. They were the keepers of the dead and of the avenged, and yet they were also the guardians of each other's sanity and soul. Somehow they were molded into the perfect pair of complements without realizing it. But for a moment, a lone instant, as they danced, they knew.

Disclaimer:
The preceding story was fictional. No actual person or event was depicted.

Author's Message:
Once again, I am grateful for your attention. May your next reading endeavor be a joyful one for both your soul and your muse.