Title: Please Note, Bobby.
Show: LOCI
Pairing: BA
Disclaimer: Sadly enough, I don't own anything. This is written for pure enjoyment only and no profit to be gained!
Rating: K+ to T to M to…Fuck. Literally!
Spoilers: "Please Note We are No Longer Accepting Letters of Recommendation from Henry Kissinger."
Authors Note: I recently watched this episode again and had to write this. It was time. Been working on this for a long time. We'll see what happens. Shouldn't be too long and it shouldn't take too long since I have everything pretty much written out already.
Summary: My take on what happened after the screen went black in "Please Note We are No Longer Accepting Letters of Recommendation from Henry Kissinger."
Chapter: 1
She pulls into the One Police Plaza parking garage. While driving back, all she could think about was him and Mary, Marsha, Marla. Right. Marla.
He unbuckles his seat belt and begins to reach for the door handle when she starts to speak.
"How can you so easily put your life in danger?"
Her voice is in no way shape or form angry. In fact, it's quite gentle, soft, but more importantly, full of apprehension. She's doing that whole concerned thing again and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat and thinks: No one is supposed to be concerned about me.
He turns towards her and she notes the look on his face. She knows full well the affect her words have on him and she's well aware that the tone of her voice surprises him. His look of surprise quickly turns in to confusion and he furrows his brow as his brain finally catches up and replays her words over in his head. The words sound almost foreign to him.
How? Well, he knows how. Why? That's more complicated.
"It's my job," he finally answers with a small shrug to follow. He knows it's a poor answer, but it's the best he can give her right now.
She nods but something tells him she's not through. He has a feeling she has more to say, so he sits still – not bothering to make an attempt leave just yet.
She looks over to him and it's the first time their eyes have really locked, held each others gaze since they left the preschool.
"Do you think that if something happened to you, no one would miss you?"
Again her voice is calm and again Bobby's perplexed. She knows; she's well aware by the way his knee softly starts to bounce up and down that he's waiting for her to explode anytime.
"Eames…" his voice weakly pleads with her.
She can tell by the sound of his voice that he doesn't like where this conversation is going.
Too bad, she thinks, because this one is long overdue.
She continues on strong, her voice surprisingly even. "I'm just curious where your courage, your eagerness, your motivation for getting into dangerous situations comes from."
He blinks. He knows, of course, but what is he supposed to tell her?
I don't do it on purpose, he thinks but quickly chooses not to say that.
"It's the job," he states. "My motivation is my job. Just doing my job well, to the best of my ability," he calmly answers. It is the truth – at least part of it.
She wants to shout 'quit doing your damn job so well! You have nothing to prove!' But she can't. She can't tell a man to stop doing the only thing he loves in life.
There's an uncomfortable silence that fills the SUV. Bobby starts to squirm and feels a sudden need to get away from her. He reaches for the door handle again, hoping to escape this time, when he feels a firm hand grasp his arm.
His head shoots down to look at the hand gripping his forearm much tighter than is needed.
Is she afraid I might make a break for it? he can't help but wonder. Apparently so, he realizes by the look on her face.
They don't touch much except on those very rare occasions in which one of their hands lingers for a brief second and Bobby is suddenly grateful for the amount of layers he has on.
She pulls her hand back and whispers, "You never answered my question, Bobby," the pitch of her voice rising slightly. He cocks his head slightly to the side – he's stalling – and she slowly adds, "Do you think no one would miss you?" By this point she really has to know because it's killing her not knowing.
Does he really think that little of himself?
And her gaze is so intense that he has to look away – towards the dash, outside the car, past her, through her, towards his lap – anywhere but at her. He's afraid if their eyes lock, he'll break – and he's not allowed to break.
His mind is notably calm, however. He doesn't need to search for the correct answer in his over-active mind because he already knows the answer. It's informing her of his answer that terrifies him.
He lets out a breath, loud enough for Alex to hear, and briefly closes his eyes. When he looks back at her, he makes an attempt to smile but it comes out so very weak and sad and she knows it's forced and, oh fuck, she thinks because it saddens her too.
"It should be no surprise to you to hear that my life, well, it hasn't been the greatest," he mournfully admits. And she knows, she knows. She looks deep into his eyes and he understands what they hold – she expects more from him. He sighs and finally utters, "No, no. I-I know there are some people out there somewhere that care—" he glances her way and nods. The little gesture takes all the courage he has. "I know you care, but…" he struggles to find the right words.
He looks so profoundly somber. Its almost scary how disconnected from everyone and everything he can be at times. Alex is suddenly thankful for the family she has. She can't imagine being alone like he is.
"You think some people care…and that they'll miss you for a few days, but then they'll quickly recover, move on and, eventually, forget all about you," she whispers.
His face distorts in a way that tells her she's read him like a book. It's slightly alarming how well she can read him at times – how much she understands him.
"Yes, s-something like that," he reveals, his voice barely audible. "But it's fine, really. I don't mind it. I did…I mean, it bothered me, but I…I'm not perfect, Eames. I became…bitter and even began to resent people that had others that loved and cared for them," he discloses and doesn't miss the questioning look she has on her face.
"Bobby," she says in a way that makes him shake. She's questioning him, did you resent me? She doesn't verbalize her question because she doesn't need to. Her eyes say it all, but he can't answer her.
"My life," he continues, taking a deep breath to try and steady his voice, "It's been this…this way f-for nearly 50 years now. Throughout the years, I learned to cope with it f-for the most part. Some things you just get used to and…and some things you just endure and live with and…and accept for what they are and not be d-discouraged or sad for the things you don't have but rather…but rather just be g-grateful for what you do have."
"You shouldn't expect disappointment, Bobby," she tells him because she knows he does. "You should expect so much more…"
"Expecting too much only brings about disappointment," he gently tells her.
As soon as the last word slips past his lips, Alex feels an immense sadness for him that she's never felt before – not this strong anyway.
How could anyone go through life without being loved?
Bobby can tell almost immediately that she feels bad for him and with the flailing of his hand in front of them, signaling that its okay and that he, its fine, just like that the conversation is over.
A/N: Wow, well it's been a very long time since I've posted anything. I've lost my muse and my will to write, but I'm trying. I have a lot of things I'm trying to deal with as well, but I'm starting to write more often now. So what do you think so far? Please let me know you're still out there somewhere after all these months. Thanks for reading.
-Snyder-