Title: Two Solitudes

Author: Kendra Crispin

Series: Metamorphosis

Rating: T

Genre: Drama, hints of Romance

Disclaimers: Still not mine. Evidence here is in the lack of Season Two DVDs in the USA...

Spoilers: "Blink" (2-20). Other episodes might sneak in here, but this one contains spoilers from almost the whole episode.

Author's Notes: This whole series comes out of the universe created by "Shattered," but it diverged slightly in "Phoenix." Now it diverges a bit further. Also, about the title... It comes from a quote I found in "Quotations of Wit and Wisdom."

Summary: The investigation into Penelope Chai's murder presents challenges to Alex and Bobby's newly transformed relationship, testing both of them and their commitment.

"Love is this: that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other." - Rainer Maria Rilke

CHAPTER ONE

He's already out and waiting, as usual. With coffee shop drinks and a paper bag... with some treat in it, no doubt... Alex smiles at seeing her partner behaving as he did before; it's a good sign that they'll manage to get through the days ahead without too much trouble. Although, she reminds herself as she pulls up to the curb, that doesn't count his insecurities and nerves...

Watching her pull up, Bobby's mind floats back to last night. That, he remembers uncomfortably, is almost the same spot that cab was... Shuddering at how close he came to letting her slip away without reaching any understanding, he walks deliberately to "his" side of the SUV.

Alex notices each of his hands is holding a drink, that the bag is tucked under an elbow, and his ever present binder tucked under the other elbow. Burdened as usual, her mind sighs as she leans over to open the door for him. "You didn't have to," she comments, gesturing at the load. "I'm supposed to lay off coffee this morning."

Bobby hauls himself inside and offers one of the drinks. "Caramel apple cider off the list?"

Her eyebrows pop up. "You," she whispers, amazed, "found a place other than Starbucks that carries them?" She grabs the drink and takes a careful sip. Delicious, she sighs silently. The perfect hot treat on a cold day...

Closing the door once his hand's free, Bobby plops the bag between them – momentarily – as he puts his own cider in "his" drink holder. "You obviously haven't been to the shop two blocks down," he mutters as he buckles in, finally putting his binder on his lap. "They also have the best danishes in the ten block radius around my building," he adds, motioning to the bag with his chin.

Oh...? Making sure her foot's firmly on the brake and that she remembered the parking brake, Alex pushes the bag open. "One danish?" Her eyes narrow slightly as she grabs it for a bite. "Don't you eat breakfast?"

Tempted to ask what that is, just to get a snarky reaction out of her, he can't; he doesn't want her to choke. Bobby settles for a tired, "I'm not hungry. And I don't eat when I'm not hungry."

Alex swallows, holding in a snort until her throat's clear. "Rather, you get so focused on a case – or on something else important to you – that you forget to eat." How many times, she wonders as she sips again, have I brought you food only to have to remind you that it's sitting in front of you when we finished for the night...?

Reminded of her asking – on multiple occasions – if he even ate outside of a kitchen or a restaurant, Bobby shrugs slightly. "Yeah," he allows.

I'm going to find a way to needle you about that. Gently, mind you... Alex smiles, more at him than over her thoughts. "Well," she says, "thanks. This'll kick-start my day, and should fortify me until lunch," she adds, taking one more bite and sip before putting her items down in their holders, flicking on the turn signal and releasing the brakes. "By the way," she informs him after she pulls into the traffic flow, "we are getting lunch, and I will see something get into your system."

Bobby spends a minute considering the likelihood that he actually will want to eat in about four hours or so, and figures the odds are okay. Besides, he reminds himself, it means more time around Alex... I'll go along with it. "Okay," he finally agrees, casually, "but I'm buying from now on."

Alex laughs, nearly blushing despite herself. "Bobby," she chokes on her laughter, "that goes against our usual conduct."

"I know," Bobby admits, voice rising a tiny pitch and hands gesturing aimlessly, "but I gotta spend on you somehow." He hopes that justifies his decision in her eyes. She fights to remain independent, he knows, but I want to do this for her. "I thought about it on my way to the coffee shop." Which, he reluctantly admits in his mind, is an understatement... "Our jobs aren't going to leave us with lots of spare time, which means few dates." Bobby's not sure how he'll handle those dates; too much at stake now. This is going to be the toughest thing I've ever done... "So I need to do what I can, even if it is technically on the clock."

Hmm... Alex contemplates his reasoning, her investigator mind looking for holes in his logic before she's aware she's doing it. Hey, she chides herself, it's not so bad. He's right; the job takes up most of our lives. That detail has never bothered Alex; she may be more social than Bobby, but she doesn't need to be out and about to be happy. He, however, prefers quiet and even solitary activities. How much, she's always wondered, is a reaction to his upbringing...?

The continuous silence starts to bother Bobby. Please, he thinks as he eyes her out of the corner of his eye, please give me an answer... Now that his whole world has been turned on its head, being in limbo and wondering if he was never going to see her again someday isn't something he can stand. Amazing, part of him marvels, how a few minutes can change your life...

It slowly occurs to Alex that Bobby might be wanting some answer from her, even a disagreement. We've got only a few minutes, she realizes after glancing at the clock, until we reach the crime scene. He is, after all, she sighs, being a gentleman. Why should I argue against something harmless that would make him feel good? "Well," she grins, "I guess we'll claim that we decided to take one bill to save time, and we settle up later. No one should comment on that," she muses optimistically.

Bobby closes his eyes as he sinks against the seat, a rueful smile crossing his face. You hope... "Still," he comments, needing to voice another concern, "does it bother you that we won't really be able to go places without risking someone getting the wrong idea?"

"You mean," Alex gently clarifies as she makes a turn, "thinking that we're on a date?"

"Yes." His matter-of-fact tone would hide from anyone his real feelings. What will it do to her career if we're found out...? She seemed to confident last night, but...

Alex sighs loudly. I knew he'd worry about that one... I wonder... "Does dating – the process, I mean – bother you?"

Now it's Bobby's turn to sigh audibly. "In high school I started thinking that dating is a foolhardy process. The going out part..." His voice grows hesitant, his hands fidgeting, but the words start spilling out. "How are you supposed to get to know someone, fall in love – let alone grow into it – under those circumstances? It-it seemed like a set group of behaviors that attempt to place logic on something devoid of it. I-I always thought that affection happens in... in spite of it." Great time, Goren, he mentally slaps himself, for your brain to work faster than your mouth...

Most people would like at that attitude with – at best – pity. Alex, however, sees it differently. Having spent years resisting the idea of dating after Toby died, she got an in-depth outsider's view on it through her family and friends. So many of the conventions, she noticed, do make falling in love hard. Which helped her feel better about being alone for so long, and made the few times she dated experiences she didn't want to repeat.

But, she reminds herself, I'm not alone anymore. I have Bobby. I don't need dates... That silent admission, along with her gut feelings, gives her an answer to their problem. "How about we simply spend time together," she suggests, like she would at work during a case, "doing whatever we feel like?"

Bobby starts. What...?! He clears his throat. "You mean... just keep doing what we have... the past few months?"

"Yeah," Alex nods, tone unchanging even as her mind picks up the pace. I'm trying to make things easier for us... "It means we're neither hiding nor flaunting, which can only help us. The changes are mostly when we're alone. It means fewer things to think about, worry about in public. The fewest rules to remember. How's that sound?"

Just like at work, he remembers from last night. Simple... "T-that," he stammers, body trembling at the thought that there's such an easy solution, "s-sounds... very nice."

Alex waits for his eyes drift to her, then flashes a warm smile. "Besides, I know you'd rather stay in most nights than hit anyplace remotely like a singles spot. Hell, I'd rather avoid them; they make me feel old."

You, his mind starts, old?! That's a word Bobby cannot apply to Alex Eames. Before he can think further on the topic, Alex turns and they see the crime scene. Time to switch gears, he realizes, which triggers the thoughts that had him up early. "You ready to face others now?"

Nervous again... Alex sighs as she parks, freeing a hand to sip more at her drink. "I told you, we act like we've always done. That'll keep the naysayers and rumor-starters where they already are. Just focus on the scene and what it tells you, okay? I know we can do it," she assures him. "We've managed through worse situations before."

You make it sound so easy, Bobby thinks, when there's so much at stake... "Sure," he says anyway, not feeling like arguing the point. I have no choice but to just do my job... Thank God for patterns...

Still, despite Alex's little pep talk, both find their energy on a nervous high as they get out, eying the uniforms and other people on the scene. Looking – not for any clues about the crime, but for indications that others see something off in them. Alex feels her stomach has morphed back into that gymnast she's come to despise, and Bobby thinks his gut decided to transform into lead weight in the seconds it took to climb out of the SUV.

Seeking comfort and escape in habits, she goes to talk with the detectives who started processing the scene, and he heads to immediately examine the body. Neither recognizes anyone, so any deviations from normal shouldn't be noticed. They hope...

After a brief introduction, Alex follows Detective Thomas to where a CSU tech is holding some of the victim's belongings. Thomas explains, eyes moving over their surroundings, "This is a dog park, so three people walking their dogs found her."

Bobby stares at the victim's hands, which are horribly broken. Someone wanted to punish her... But she wasn't tortured...

Alex cringes at the sight of the hands. Poor woman, she thinks as the CSU tech presents the evidence bag. While she takes out the wallet, Thomas adds, grimly, "The way she's dressed, she could be working any of the fine establishments in the vicinity."

"Fine" is a polite word, Alex's memory tell her, for this neighborhood. I remember it well from Vice... "Working them hard, apparently," Alex remarks after looking in the wallet. "There's almost 2,000 in there."

Bobby briefly looks up from the body, shifting his gaze to the ground immediately around the victim. She looks a little too well-kept to be a street-walker... Shoes aren't worn enough... And she wouldn't have these calluses...

Alex flips through and finds the woman's student ID. "Penelope Chai, math major at Hudson," she reads, for Bobby's benefit and to buy them both more time to get back into gear. But, she notices, that's not all on this ID card... "This car code," she checks with Thomas, "is that the Department of Defense security clearance?"

A short, choking laugh escapes Thomas' lips. "Yeah, once we saw that, we figured she might actually be a rocket scientist."

Don't know about that, Bobby thinks. Rocket scientists this young don't usually have reason to dress up like this... Let alone have these kinds of clothing...

Spotting the disagreement in her partner's eyes, Alex suggests, more for their audience's benefit, "Maybe someone was after the state secrets in her pretty head." She faintly hears and senses a uniform talking to Thomas, and pulling him away. Perfect, she breathes silently, taking a slight step forward. Now we can talk about his findings... without worrying about what others might overhear...

Bobby senses rather than hears her readiness for details, and meets her eyes. His own let confusion seep through. "Fingers broken post-mortem," he explains. At least she wasn't tortured, he feels. "It's like a signal or a warning," he muses, dividing his gaze between Alex and examining the fingers more carefully. "She's got calluses here," he adds, indicating Chai's right pointer, "and on her thumb."

Alex grimaces, partly against the cold and partly over the sight of the breaking. "Whatever she was doing," she observes, glancing briefly around for any ideas about that, "this was the wrong place to be doing it." She looks back at him as he stands. I guess, she suspects from experience, he's decided there's nothing more to find here.

Bobby motions his hands toward the body. "So the killer stood here in plain sight, yet he took the time to... to snap every one of her fingers. I-" He cuts himself off. Why did the guy hate her so much...? It doesn't make any sense... yet. "He left the money," he observes, pointing again. "He didn't bother to make it look like a robbery."

Shrugging, Alex suggests, "He's either stupid or cocky." And we're never lucky enough for robbery to be the motive. Not with the murders we tend to get assigned to...

"Yeah," Bobby allows. "Or he thought that we wouldn't be fooled." More likely explanation, he feels. Looking at Alex's face, he wonders, "Paid us a compliment?"

What the...? Alex grimaces. Only you could think that... She purses her lips. "I saw keys in her purse. Maybe her dorm or apartment will give us clues."

--

"Do you... mind it when I explain things you already know?"

The hesitant question surprises Alex, who turns with wide eyes. Bobby's staring at her through the corner of his eyes, like a little of his nerves have returned. Why ask now, she thinks, as we're going up to Penny's apartment? Oh, she remembers, I got on his case once about explaining something... and he just talked about knowing probability in card games on the spot to Penny's card-counting friends. "Bobby, it was to show to her friends that you knew exactly what they were up to. It gave me an opening to play bad cop, so to speak. We got what we needed out of them."

Bobby lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "You sure?" What's happened to me? Am I going to always be anxious when it comes to her...?

"I'll let you know what topics I don't like being explained to me," she promises, "and I think I've done most of that already. Besides, you only do it to get information from a witness or a suspect. I don't mind that, nor do I mind listening to the sound of your voice."

Wow... Floored, he takes a breath to recover his mental balance, to get his mind back on the case. "So now the question is," Bobby ponders aloud – his tone changing from anxious to professional – as he pulls out the key the super gave them to Penny Chai's apartment, "what triggered her move? Anyone that desperate for an apartment is hiding from someone."

Snorting, Alex shakes her head. "After seeing the photos from the math department office," she remarks as she puts on fresh latex gloves, "I'm not sure about an admirer." She takes the key from him and unlocks the door.

Bobby nods, conceding the possibility. "Maybe it was the card counting," he suggests, putting gloves on himself. "But I have a hard time believing that and the murder are wholly unrelated."

Alex shakes her head as she opens the door. "At least now I know where to warn my brothers about if their kids become math majors."

Bobby stares at the back of her head as they enter. "What about your sister's daughter?" Why leave her out...?

An amused, patient grin is his first answer. "Valerie is bright," Alex explains, eyes casing the crowded room, "but math isn't her forte. She gets by well enough, but she needs enough tutoring that we don't need to worry about her in that respect."

You hope, Bobby thinks... In his experience, anyone can change their abilities if they're determined enough. "But," he responds – wanting to check on one more thing about her family before focusing completely on the case – as he moves to examine the desk, "you might have to worry about some of her cousins."

A brief laugh escaping her closed lips, Alex smirks. "Yeah, several of them have that skill, as I'm sure you noticed. I'll warn the Captain, too; his eldest is probably going to be a math major, like he was."

That draws his eyes over to her, but she's looking at another part of the room. Oh, he thinks as a vague memory kicks in, right, Captain's a mathlete... Shaking his head lightly, Bobby resumes his scans.

Sighing deeply, Alex frowns as she absorbs more details of the room. "Four weeks," she marvels aloud, "and she was still living out of boxes." How does a girl manage it when she has outfits that decent to keep in top condition?

A faint whirring sound catches Bobby's attention, preventing him from thinking of a response. Sounds like it's coming... from that laptop, his mind finishes. He places a hand on it, feeling heat and mechanical movement. "Eames," he alerts her, "sounds like the hard drive is running."

Oh? She might have left a program running overnight, Alex thinks, walking over. Still, her attention is always grabbed by computers. "Could be defragmenting the drive," she reminds him. Which may or may not mean anything, she knows,

He looks up. "Or erasing it," he suggests. Whatever the reason, he knows, Alex will figure it out. I'm not needed right here. So he moves off, examining bits of Penny's CD collection as he moves to her sink.

Alex taps the mouse area, and runs into a problem. "It's password-protected," she sighs. Figures... "Security-" she cuts herself off as she taps the computer, getting the beep she expects before continuing, "software's overriding the "off" switch." She picks up the laptop, looking for options and not seeing any. "It's locked in. Can't pull the battery." Save one, she tells herself. "Shall we hack?" She doesn't wait for a response as she sits, getting into mental gear.

Bobby almost smiles. Watching her hack is fascinating. One area where she knows far more than I do, he reflects. She's fixed my machine more than a few times...

"Password programs usually give you a hint after three tries," Alex informs him as she starts typing gibberish. I have to start somewhere, she reasons. First try... The system beeps. Okay, try again... Same response. When she enters types again, she finally gets the hint that Penny gave the program. She draws back into the chair when it appears. ""Sannakji?"" What the hell...? "That's some hint." That isn't English... and you wouldn't find it on a Chinese menu...

Bobby blinks once he registers what she said, his memory recognizing the word. It takes him a few seconds to recall what it is. "It's octopus stew," he remarks casually.

She whips her head around, meeting his eyes full-on. I know your knowledge, her stunned mind thinks, is spread all over the map, but... How the hell do you know what that is...?!

Bobby sees the disbelieving question in her eyes. This is an easy explanation, at least, his mind sighs. "I did a six-month tour," he says, voice shrugging as her expression draws a grin from him, "in South Korea." It was a night out with several fellow soldiers, he remembers, and the best part of the evening... "They use live octopus," he remarks, motioning with one of the CD cases – in lieu of pointing a finger – as he glances down at the floor of the kitchen.

Alex winces. Live?! The image of a large bowl with one big octopus wars with the equally alarming image of a small bowl with a baby octopus, both images churning her stomach. And you enjoyed it...?!

Bobby looks back up after a second, before she can think of anything else. "The tentacles get up your nose." His eyes reflect his amused smile.

Oh, God... Alex scrunches her face, swallowing the urge to barf as she turns back to the screen.

Alex, he thinks, it's not that bad. It tastes great. "It's hilarious," he assures her.

"A riot," she replies tightly. Stop it, her tone says. My brothers might enjoy that, she thinks, but not me... "Trying "octopus.""

Oops... Bobby mentally slaps himself as he puts down the CDs, walking over to see the results. Note, he sighs, to self: Never again mention meals where the food's still alive when it reaches you.

Alex's typing works. The space screen-saver slowly fades away, finally revealing the blue screen erase information. "Bingo." Alex nods, glad they remembered to put on gloves. "The erase program's been running for almost sixteen and a half hours." Racking her memory, the significance is immediately clear. "It started after Penny was already dead." She glances over to Bobby, who's eyes break away from the screen as if sensing her gaze. "They killed her, then came here," she finishes.

"The-that program was set to overwrite the data 33 times," Bobby notes, pointing to that detail on the screen. "Whatever was on her computer, they wanted it erased beyond recovery." His eyes drift back to her, keeping her involved in his thought process. "Probably 'cause it leads back to them."

Alex tightly grimaces, suspecting that the killer or killers didn't count on them finding Penny's apartment so soon. Or, she thinks, how long each erase takes. "Too bad for them," she quips, stopping the erase program in its tracks, "they did a better job erasing her." Time to see what I can find while we're waiting for CSU...