Disclaimer: The Law & Order characters are owned by Dick Wolf. No infringement of rights is intended. This story is written for entertainment purposes only.
As he quietly talked to the bartender, Bobby Goren kept glancing at his partner on the far side of the Lion's Head Pub. Alex Eames had her cell phone pressed to her ear and she was facing the window, but Bobby was sure she knew what he and the bartender were discussing: her. He was also sure she'd call him on it sooner or later.
She didn't wait long to do it. They were on their way out when she said, "I hope you found out everything you wanted to know. About me."
Bobby reached to open the door for her, but she caught the handle first and it opened it for herself.
"Everything," he said, smiling. "Bourbon?"
Eames turned in the doorway to look at him. She half smiled - maybe it was a surprise reflex. Bobby grinned even more widely. It was a rare thing to catch his partner off guard.
But her expression quickly became grim – as it had been for most of this investigation – and she took off toward the car at a brisk pace. She wasn't enjoying Bobby's little joke about her past drinking habits.
He paused on the sidewalk outside and pulled on his knit cap and gloves, giving her time to regain her composure. This wasn't her fault. The further they got into this investigation, the more Bobby despised ADA Kevin Mulrooney.
He'd disliked Mulrooney from the start. There were so many red flags about the man's behavior toward Eames that Bobby had promptly added Mulrooney to his suspect list. What happened between them seven years ago? As the investigation progressed, Mulrooney's actions only confirmed Bobby's first impression.
The items of evidence linking Eames to the crime were weak and obviously contrived, but she was too upset to interpret them objectively. As each clumsily placed clue was revealed, Eames tried to regain her personal equilibrium, but she couldn't look beyond.
Bobby suddenly stopped in his tracks and gasped in a lungful of icy air.
With a jolt he recalled his own angry floundering and loss of perspective last year, when he'd been implicated in the murder of his brother, Frank. Eames had been the one to shake him – figuratively - and get his mind right. Why hadn't he seen the parallel sooner?
Eames wasn't a suspect as Bobby had been, but she was obviously feeling the same frustration – it was like being caught in a swift current. Now it was his turn to offer a hand to get her onto a firm footing.
She was already sitting inside the SUV, and met his eye for just a second as he climbed in. She turned her upper body toward him, but didn't look directly at him.
"Those days," she said. "They were tough for me."
Bobby nodded, relieved that she was willing to talk to him. He'd never take anyone's side against her – surely she knew that!
She said, "I was trying to get my life back under control, but..." She shook her head.
"...always playing catch-up," Bobby added.
Eames' eyes darted to his shoulder, his hand, out the window. "I don't drink like that any more."
"I know. This place," he said, gesturing toward the bar. "It brings back memories?"
She still wasn't looking at his face. "Nothing I want to hold onto." She took a deep breath and became more businesslike. "What I want to know is who's dredging all this up, and what does it have to do with Boz Burnham?"
Bobby was sure he knew the answer, but he needed Eames to get there on her own. If she wasn't willing to tell him how far her relationship with Mulrooney had gone, then she wouldn't be able to see how far Mulrooney had fallen since that time. Bobby would have to provoke her at some point to open her eyes – but not yet.
She started the engine and pulled away from the curb. "Let's get back to MCS and see if we can find this Gabby Roth."
"Okay." He paused a moment. "Eames?"
She replied with a lift of her eyebrows. "Mmm?"
"When we're done with this, let's go somewhere for drinks. A new place."
She nodded. "No bourbon."
Bobby watched his partner from across the squad room. Eames sat at her desk, chin down, determinedly pounding away at the keyboard. It was late, but she'd been grinding through Kevin Mulrooney's booking paperwork for an hour, only pausing for coffee.
As soon as the handcuffs were on him, Mulrooney had stopped talking altogether. The DA's office immediately sent another ADA to question him, but he'd remained defiantly silent. Bobby didn't care if he never opened his mouth – they had sufficient evidence to convict him of Burnham's murder.
There was also probably plenty of evidence he'd broken into Eames' home. Earlier, Captain Ross told Eames he was sending a CSU team to her house in the morning, and advised her to stay at a hotel overnight. She'd taken it stoically, but Bobby saw her fists clench as she listened to the Captain.
Everything in Eames' posture and expression indicated anger and stress as she continued typing. Half an hour ago Bobby had suggested they could finish in the morning, but she'd chased him away with a glare.
"Eames," Captain Ross called from his office door. He beckoned to her and then looked across the squad room. "You too, Goren."
Bobby entered the office after his partner. Neither sat down. She moved as though she was sore and stiff all over.
"So," the Captain said, "Mulrooney finally spoke: he wants a lawyer, but he refuses to be assigned one from night court." He shrugged. "Can't blame him there – he'd better not try to claim insanity. Anyway, he's going to sit in holding overnight. Don't spend any more time on his paperwork tonight. Understood, Eames?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Did you book a hotel?" Ross asked.
"Not yet," she said. "I figure I won't have any trouble just walking in."
"One more thing," Ross said. "The CSU guys arrive at nine tomorrow – you might want to be there ahead of them."
"Got it," Eames said. She strode out of the office.
Bobby sensed that Ross wanted to ask how Eames was doing, so he hurried out into the squad room after her. It was a useless question. Ross already knew she was strong; she just needed time to recover her balance. There was no need to discuss it.
She was already pulling on her coat as he approached. "You want to get that drink now?" she asked.
"Absolutely." Bobby was glad she'd remembered his offer. Considering all the grief he'd put her through during this investigation, he was glad she was willing to be seen with him. He grabbed his binder, slung his coat over his arm and followed her toward the elevators.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Uhh... Where are you staying? We can pick a place close to your hotel, so you won't have to drive."
She poked the call button for the elevator. "Good idea, but I'm not going to drink that much. I haven't given a thought to finding a hotel. I, uh... I don't know."
Bobby studied her. From the droop of her eyelids he bet she hadn't had a good night's sleep since they were first called out.
Eames rubbed her fingers across her forehead. "Damn! I don't even want to think about what he touched, where he went... I hate this!"
"Eames, can I-?" The elevator opened at that moment – there were a few people inside.
They stood in a corner of the compartment, half turned toward each other. All the way down to the parking level she stared blankly at the coat hanging over his arm. As the elevator descended, Bobby settled on a plan for the evening and the next day.
When they got off the elevator he followed Eames for a few yards, then gently caught hold of her arm.
"I have an idea," he said.
It was another indication of her exhaustion that she only looked up at him questioningly, rather than snapping out a sharp retort.
"Do you want to stay with me?" he asked. He loosened his grip and lightly rubbed her arm. Eames was running on grit, adrenaline, and caffeine – when they ran out she might crash hard, and Bobby wanted to be there to help her.
She shook her head as she tucked her scarf inside the collar of her coat. "Thanks, but NYPD's picking up the tab - no expenses spared and all that. How can I pass it up? Besides, I happen to know your spare bed is an old mattress you throw on the floor."
"It's not that old, but..." He'd expected she would refuse. "Anyway, there's a bar and grill that opened in my neighborhood. I haven't been there yet, but I hear the burgers are good. Want to take a chance on it?"
That finally produced a smile. "Sounds good," she said.
He handed her his binder as he put on his coat. "You can park at my building – it's walking distance. And there's a hotel not far from me – a Holiday Inn."
She frowned. "I need get home tomorrow before CSU gets there. I'd rather-"
Bobby cut in. "I think I should be there, too. This way we can drive out to your place together."
She slowly shook her head, and then shrugged. "I'm too tired to argue – let's go."
