Author: SilentG
Title: For Now
Fandom: LO:CI
Pairing: B/A
Rating: T for now, M later probably
Spoilers: Definitely, see individual chapter A/Ns.
Archive: Anywhere – no need to ask – just attribute, and let me know if possible
Disclaimer: Not mine
Summary: Post-Loyalty WAFF. He said he'd come back. Her memories of their last meeting would have to be enough for now.

A/N 1: Chapter spoilers for: Loyalty, Season 9.

~.~.~.~.~

CHAPTER ONE: GOODBYE

Bobby was really going to do it – he was going undercover with the FBI. Alex still had no idea what she was going to do work-wise; in the four days since she'd quit and he'd been fired, she'd had no room for any thoughts but those of worry for Bobby and regret at how things had ended for them.

And that was what was in the background for her… that things had ended for them.

Before she could make the offer herself, he'd asked to take her out for a goodbye dinner tonight – the night before he was to leave. She both craved and dreaded it, but she was determined to corner him into a conversation (one they'd never come close to having but she suspected he'd do his best to sidestep) about their future. The fact that she wanted one, with him, whatever it might look like. She was happy for him moving on in his professional life – she'd often wondered why he'd stayed with Major Case after his mom died – but while she thought she could get over not working with him every day, she didn't think she could bear not seeing him… well, most days, anyway.

She'd come up with a few ideas – some scary, some crazy, some downright unlikely – to enable them to be in each other's lives. She intended to pin him down to at least one of them even if he was reluctant. She needed him, and by god she was going to figure out a way to keep him, even if he didn't need her any more.

O.O.O.O.O

This was it. The last time he would see Alex for… well, months, probably. Bobby tried to swallow the body memory of nausea and icy fear that he had come to associate with separation from the most important person in his life.

Not to say that he wasn't excited about his new assignment. He was thrilled actually. Not even too terrified that he wouldn't be able to do it without Eames. She didn't know it, but her steadying influence over the years had taken him great lengths beyond the twitchy savant with an allergy to communicating (and empathising) with his co-workers. He felt he was ready to strike out on his own – he had to, actually. He had to prove to both of them that he could be successful without her; that he clung to her by choice, not because he couldn't function otherwise. Then maybe it would be easier for her to choose him.

They seldom had 'relationship' conversations, even though they both admitted their partnership had been the longest and most intimate relationship of their lives; the gift they'd given each other repeatedly over the years was the ability to say all that needed to be said with their eyes, and the willingness (usually) to hear it. But tonight Bobby had something to say to Alex, and he'd be darned if she wouldn't sit and hear it, no matter how uncomfortable it made her.

O.O.O.O.O

Dinner had been nice. The place Bobby took her was quite tony, but still relaxed; she appreciated him choosing someplace where she'd feel comfortable. The man that sat opposite her in his well-cut blue suit was many things to her: handsome, brilliant, fragile, bold, beloved, and increasingly (towards her), affectionate, protective and thoughtful. She fought her inclination to deflect his overtures out of self-consciousness or over-developed independence… she had no need for those things any more.

The care she'd taken dressing paid off the instant she opened her door to him earlier, when his eyes gravitated irresistibly towards her breasts, and rested there for a grin-inducingly inappropriate length of time. Luckily he didn't see her grin, because… well… his gaze was occupied elsewhere.

If anyone asked (not that they did, or would), she'd say that it wasn't the dress – an empire-waisted black velvet knee-length with a low neckline and long butterfly sleeves – that made her bust striking, but rather the bra. She made a point at work of wearing bras that minimised her breasts, both for comfort and modesty; it always gave her a bit of a thrill when someone who knew her from work got an eyeful of what her rack really looked like.

And Bobby had definitely gotten an eyeful! No matter. It gave her plenty of time to feast her eyes on him.

He looked very spiffy in his suit, freshly shaved and with neatly trimmed hair. She glanced briefly at his polished shoes, and blushed.

She was a little bit surprised when, after grinning sheepishly and shifting from foot to foot, rubbing the back of his neck, he grasped her shoulders gently but firmly and kissed her cheek – the same cheek he'd kissed after, well, their last day at Major Case. "Hi," he murmured in her ear. His voice, soft and a bit husky, went straight to her cunt with a kick that made her inhale in surprise. He quickly released her, and she swayed a bit on her boot-clad feet.

"Hi yourself," she replied, feeling unaccountably shy and off-balance. Bobby lifted her coat off the hook at the door, and gently bundled her into it. Was he touching her more than usual? She wasn't expecting this.

She tilted even further off her axis when, after opening the passenger door and handing her into his classic Mustang, (I'm not driving? ~ Nope.) he reached behind her, and, like magic, produced a single perfect red rose. Not quite a briar rose, but definitely not one of the franken-flowers sold at Valentine's, it was velvety and lush and perfectly formed. Did he remember what that rose meant? Love and fidelity? A searching glance at his face and his eyes seemed to answer her – Yes, I do. – She was afraid to believe it.

O.O.O.O.O

Dinner had been more than nice. Too bad he was too nervous to enjoy it. Oh, that wasn't completely accurate… he couldn't not enjoy being with Eames. Even times when she'd been furious at him, spitting shrapnel with her eyes and flaying him with her voice, he'd still jumped out of bed in the mornings to rush to her.

There was nothing sharp coming out of those velvety orbs tonight. In fact, her gaze was so soft and warm that he felt himself squirming with pleasure in his seat opposite her. Her voice poured over him sweet and smoky, teasing him as if by unseen hands.

The whole night she'd acted the way he felt – joyful, but on edge and with a hint of sadness. A couple of times he'd actually seen her tear up.

Through dinner they'd chatted about innocuous things – her family, his family, her plans for the future. He'd feasted on her, so tiny and beautiful and sexy, with no distractions, no interruptions, nobody to enter the bubble of their little world. And he'd caught her looking at him… Was it feminine appreciation he saw? Longing? Love? He was afraid to believe it. But he hoped.

As the evening wore on he got more anxious. There were things he needed to say to her, and he couldn't put it off forever. Fate took it out of his hands when the waitress, dropping by to get their dessert orders before clocking out, rested her hands on both their shoulders and said, "I hope you had a good time tonight! Come back soon."

He turned to Alex to find her looking crestfallen at him. "Bobby," was all she managed to say before covering her face with her hands. In an instant, he was on his knees next to her chair. "I'm not crying," she exclaimed defiantly as she let her head drop onto his shoulder while he took her waist carefully in his big hands. Yet she allowed him to hold and comfort her, playing her small strong hands over his shoulders and into his hair, leaning on him. This was heaven to him. Every minute for the past four days he'd been yearning to feel again her hot little body in the circle of his arms.

O.O.O.O.O

The first time she'd held him had gone by in a blur of grief and remorse – she could just barely separate out her recollections of his arms around her, his lips on her cheek. Now she's almost in sensory overload, all the different textures of him. His soft hair, hot, damp, smooth skin, the feeling of his warm shoulders (those, at least, she'd had a chance to touch once, to acclimate to). His hands, resting chastely on her waist, seemed to be moving, plundering, and his mouth, quiet and still against her throat, seemed poised to draw her into him.

"I don't want you to go." All her artful schemes were out the window, and she was left only with the unvarnished truth.

"I don't want to leave you, Alex." His voice hummed in her neck and hair. "I've never wanted to be apart from you, even for a day."

"Me neither." She didn't ask him not to go; she understood.

For a few minutes they just leaned against each other, soaking up the sensations where their bodies met, the sensations of really being together.

Bobby was the first to break the silence. "This is heaven," he whispered.

Alex laughed. "You're a simple man, Bobby Goren."

"Yup," he replied.

"Bobby, when you get back…"

He withdrew from her, a severe look on his face. "I don't – I don't want to talk about it."

Reacting to her exclamation of disappointment, he tilted his head and leaned in close. "Alex… I don't want to jinx it, get my hopes up or dashed. I just want – to focus on this last job, and then…"

"Then?" She asked sceptically. Alex was starting to feel more irritated than comforted. Was he still wriggling, after all these years?

He bent his head and fished something out of his pocket. He took her hand and squeezed. it. "Alex… I promise I'm coming back – I'm not doing this because I think I won't – but I want to give you something." He put a little velvet box into her hand, and she opened it. Inside was his mother's ring. Her heart and mind swam with a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts and emotions. What was he doing?

"I've never…" He shook his head in irritation. "When I try…" His huff of frustration caressed her bare décolletage. "Alex," he finally said, "I can't – seem to say – what I need to say!" She reached for him and soothed him with her lips and voice at his ear, before he could take frustration out on himself. Finally, his breathing slowed, and he took in both his hands the hand that held the box. He closed his eyes. "This ring, in this ring, is a symbol of everything good and happy about my family. I want to give it to you, the source, of everything good and happy about my life. I'm not – I don't want to…"

Alex put her fingers to his lips; she was stunned, and Bobby was again becoming overwrought. "I know, Bobby. We'll talk about it when you get back."

~.~.~.~.~

A/N 2: I'm just in a fluffy, angsty frame of mind. Major fluff with some smex in Chapter 2. Anyone who reviews with a picture of themselves in a diabetic coma will get a free insulin injection.

Even if you're conscious, please review!

WORDS: 2027 UPLOADED Tuesday, July 27, 2010