Series Title: Metamorphosis
Author: Kendra Crispin
Rating: T for all but a few parts
Summary: Every relationship develops and grows/evolves because pivotal moments. Never was this more true than for Alex Eames and Bobby Goren.
Classifications: G&E leading into G/E, A/U
Series Spoilers: Late season 2 eps, the season 3 arc, all Bishop eps, and "Great Barrier."
Archive: Amorous Intent. Anywhere else, please ask.
Disclaimer: Only the idea is mine. That and the DVD copies I own of Years 1-3. Plus the recordings of seasons 4-6...
Acknowledgments: Susan G.; without her, "Shattered" wouldn't exist, and neither would this. Lara, for providing helpful critiques. Tres Mechante, for giving me a go to put my own take on a possibility she used, and for saying that the original version had her hooked.
Author's note: Since those at Amorous Intent insisted on knowing more about the events that led to "Shattered," I have fulfilled that desire.
Title: More Liable Than Any Other...
Author: Kendra
Rating: heavy T
Summary: Alex and Bobby's blossoming relationship is tested by his reactions to Croydon. But the worst surprises both of them.
Spoilers: "A Person of Interest", "Anti-Thesis", "Blink", "Phantom", "The Pardoner's Tale", and "The Pilgrim". Huge ones for the first two...
Disclaimer: See a dead Nicole anywhere around here? No? Enough said.
Author's Note: The title is a slight paraphrasing of part of a quote. The full quote, as I found it, is below.
Dedication: Susan G and Beka, whose stories allowed Alex a chance to destroy Nicole. (Something I know Alex wishes she could've done here.) And Lara, whose constructive criticism for earlier work left a strong influence on me.
Shy and proud men... are more liable than any others to fall into the hands of parasites and creatures of low character. For in the intimacies which are formed by shy men, they do not choose, but are chosen. - Henry Taylor
CHAPTER ONE
Missing Anthrax, Alex silently mutters as she unlocks her door. Bobby, carrying his portfolio and bags from her bodega, stands behind her. Bad enough a little girl lost her daddy and has to be protected from the knowledge of what he was doing, she thinks, but between what those twisted doctors did to those women and Stern denying the existence of those two grams...
She shakes her head, sighing aloud. No, she reminds herself, there's nothing we can do about it. My job right now is to help Bobby relax...
Damn day... Bobby drags his feet as he follows Alex in. Polly chirps at him, which draws his eye up to silently acknowledge her as he passes her cage. He puts the bags down gently, despite needing some reasonable outlet for his feelings. Most methods he'd witnessed over the years – especially at home – were unacceptable to him. Especially, his conscience adds, when you're courting a lady. Leaning against the counter, Bobby asks, "Have you ever wanted to shake a suspect?"
Alex grimaces as she hangs up her long leather coat. Oh, have I ever thought about that. "If I can't squash them with a cutting remark, then I'd want to pull out my gun."
That draws Bobby's gaze up, even though she's in the living room. "You can't make suspects talk if you kill them."
She pushes the closet door shut, with a ghost of a smirk. "Think about where I'd aim."
A short, choking laugh escapes Bobby before he can think to stop it. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."
Stopping to check Polly's food and water supply, Alex laughs. "Well, I'm positive that you'll never make me consider performing a .38 caliber vasectomy."
He clears his throat uncomfortably, and empties the bags as an outlet for his energy. That sounds like the woman who was furious with me almost three years ago. I don't know what happened to make her decide I was worth staying with, but I'm not complaining.
While Bobby puts away her groceries, Alex refills her . "Now you behave," she admonishes. She gets a puzzled chirp before Polly turns to her food. "Remember whose place this is," she chides, fighting an amused grin.
Bobby, in the middle of gathering the bags to put them under the sink, overhears the one-sided conversation. "You know, I've always wondered: how much of what you say do you think she understands?"
Alex shrugs as she strolls up beside him. "Maybe a little more than her name and a few commands. Of what I'm feeling? Well, that's anybody's guess."
He chuckles. But the light-hearted moment doesn't suppress his thoughts from earlier, and they resume with vigor once he closes the sink doors. Just another moment of being me, Bobby thinks with a silent groan.
Alex watches the return of his burdens. That's enough work-related crap, she decides. "Hey," she whispers, "your shoulders are carrying the world again."
"Probably." You should know this is common for me by now, his mind groans at her.
Alex resists the urge to sigh. The first time she commented, it took nearly a minute for him to admit that he'd learned – from early on – doing so kept things mostly under control in his life. "Let me...?"
Bobby sighs and removes his tie, allowing the new routine to begin. He almost feels more pressure in his neck at the thought of Alex touching him, but he tries shooing it away. It's Alex, he tells his body. Her touch heals...
Alex guides him to the couch, letting him trail a foot behind her until she stops next to it. She knows she doesn't have to direct him after about six weeks of this pattern. Because, she muses, he knows it helps, even if it's still hard for him to receive it.
He lies prone on the cushions, resting his arms at his sides. Alex had complained the first few times that keeping his hands near his head hindered her efforts, so this was the compromise they worked out after several experiments. Breathing feels as constrained as his muscles do after the past week, and amount of telling his body to relax has ever worked.
"Just breathe," Alex says, slowly climbing over to straddle his waist, keeping her weight off him. Low back's not meant to handle that kind of pressure... She rests her hands against his shoulder blades, letting them warm the area and giving him a chance to adjust.
A grunt escapes Bobby's throat as, without fail, Alex's hands find the spots that make his whole body clench. But the gentle heat soothes the reflex away in seconds. That's a first, he realizes in a slight daze.
Alex smiles softly, feeling a warm tingle traverse her body at seeing how quickly it worked this time. "Where would you like to go if you had the chance?"
Sudden casual questions that were completely unconnected to their day signals the official start of any night following a bad day at work. One day, Bobby told himself after the second time Alex did this for him, I'll return the favor.
The problem is that he carries far more tension than she ever does, and her pregnancy is still in the early stages. No sore feet to rub yet, he recalls as her hands start gently stroking the muscles around his shoulders, no achy back to soothe. He's noticed that with each time she gives these he feels more comfortable with being touched in other situations, and with touching her.
Thanks God I know to give him time to form an answer... Something about my touch disrupts his brain's processes. Ever since she discovered it, Alex has felt a powerful rush knowing that she affects him so deeply, and that he likes feeling any part of her against him. Which, she knows, is why he won't undress any further than this; he doesn't trust his restraint if too much of their bodies touch. Hope I don't get horny later on; then he might really have to be worried.
"Anywhere you'd like to be," he finally manages. If I go on any vacations, I want you with me...
Grinning, she teases, "What, you don't want to see one of your old tour places?"
"I can live without seeing any of them again. Not a lot in Germany unless you like the Alps. You'd never want to see some of the other places, and I doubt you're a fan of... authentic South Korean cuisine."
Alex's memory sifts for where that one came from while her hands continue their caress. It clicks into place in seconds, halting her progress before she shudders and presses on. "If they'd kill the octopus first, I might try it."
A tiny laugh slips through his lips. "See? That's why you'll pick the location."
He's thinking about us staying together... Alex feels thrilled at the re-enforcement of his implication from two months ago: he's thinking about marriage to her. His increasing pleasure from being with her and her family makes it more likely that he's conquering his fears, getting ready for a happy future of his own.
Keep this to yourself, Alex... So she smiles and leans to whisper. "Thanks, Bobby." A soft kiss to his cheek, then she pulls up to work some of the knots from his back.
Tingles flow from the kissed area, warmth growing from within. I really am making her happy just by being here... and accepting her touch, her presence. Thank you, God...
He won't hope for anything more, at least not tonight. After all, he know better – from painful experience – than to tempt fate by praying that they won't get a horrible case anytime soon.
--
The motherload of cases in a post-9/11 world, and it's on our heads. Bobby restrains an exasperated sigh, even though he and Alex are almost at the department SUV. Fifteen years in the Army taught him to control his emotions throughly around military personnel, however, and they are still on a base. "We finish one case that had anthrax involved, however slightly, and now we've got missing anthrax boosters. Would it be good or bad if they're not related?"
Alex doesn't resist releasing a frustrated grunt. "Given that we can't get Dr. Stern to admit to knowing about those two grams, and that we probably couldn't without anyone learning the truth about Buzz Davis' death, I think we need to hope they're not related. Even though we want to find that missing anthrax unused," she adds in an afterthought as she remotely unlocks the Explorer.
Bobby nods. "The lab will get the money Maston gave him within a few hours. It must have come from the killer."
They get in without words, then Alex comments, "And meanwhile, we look for anything we can find about where to look for those boosters, and for anything about Matson's plans."
--
"What position did she apply for?" A question asked too many times, Alex knows too well, either of a suspect or a victim. Occasionally just about the family of one or the other, or of a witness. But the lab threw them the unwelcome news that spores of their missing anthrax were on the money, and so they followed the trail of her job applications.
"A nurse in our clinic." Mr. Marshall, a black man with an accent that not even Bobby has been able to place yet, hands Alex the folder with the Hasnoztics application. "She has experience treating exposure to bio-agents."
She certainly did, Alex notes. A very impressive list, too. Leaning back to read the submitted resume, she queries, "Does that happen here often?"
"No," Marshall emphasizes. "We do environmental testing for insurance claims, workers' comp." Shrugging, he allows, "But you never know."
Never know, Bobby's mind repeats. Never know that maybe you could be used to help someone find a victim to manipulate and murder. Bobby gives her a tiny signal that he senses an honesty vibe from the man, so they can trust what he tells them. Of course, they haven't informed him that the applicant was murdered two days ago, or that she illegally bought boosters. Keeping a semi-friendly manner, despite the bluntness of the question, he gets to the point of their visit. "Has any of your employees ever been vaccinated for anthrax?"
Marshall stiffens slightly, as though shocked. "Anthrax isn't something we've dealt with." Glancing down, his mouth parts from recollection. Lightly wagging a finger, he muses aloud, "But I think Dr. Croydon..." He pushes his chair back to another file cabinet, and sifts for several seconds before pulling out his target. "Right. Dr. Dan Croydon, our lab director." Intrigued at the lead, Bobby's out of his chair before the title comes out of Marshall's mouth. "He was vaccinated a few years ago during a posting in South Africa for the W-H-O."
Bingo, both detectives think as they exchange a glance after the magic location words. While Bobby takes the file for closer inspection of the man, Alex asks, "Has he kept up with his boosters?"
"His last one was four years ago," Marshall informs her, matter-of-fact as he briefly shakes his head. "He'd no longer be protected against the virus."
"Unless he got boosters we didn't know about." As she makes the uneasy observation, Alex stands to join Bobby.
Hearing the faint sounds the chair makes, Bobby partly turns to include her on something important. "I see he worked at the Army bio-weapons lab," he observes as she walks to his side, "at Ft. Detrick in the early 90s." We must be on the right track...
Only the grimness and urgency of the case prevents Alex from smiling. "I like this guy." And I should; he's hitting all the marks. Save for how he met Connie Matson, but we'll figure that one out.
Wait, Bobby thinks as he notices a familiar marking on the payment stubs. Does that still mean...? Only a few beats after Alex's remark, he shows the paper to their witness. "What's this notation here?"
"His wages are being garnished," Marshall informs them, a hint of disapproval at his employee evident in his tone. "He fell behind in his child support."
Alex cringes, shaking her head slowly. Jerk...
Aha! Part of his motive... "Hmm," Bobby comments aloud with grim satisfaction, "I really like this guy now."
Those words freeze Alex's head in place. Like him now, she repeats silently to make sure she heard correctly. Because he's a deadbeat...? God, Bobby, she silently hesitates, do you hear yourself?
Oblivious to Alex's sudden nervous vibe, Bobby resists the urge to grin to himself. We need to crack on this guy now. He glances at Marshall. "Is he here today?"
The answer is a simple, matter-of-fact, "He took his son to Jones Beach."
Then he wouldn't be in our way... Bobby nods and turns to Alex. "We need to call Carver for a search warrant."
Since the situation is serious, Alex nods despite the pit in her stomach. Okay, she feels, but we need a lot more evidence... And I'm watching you...
--
"Directories of government agencies," Alex informs Bobby when his eyes ask what she's reading. Resting in Croydon's desk chair while officers from various NYPD branches flit in and out of the rooms, she adds, "He's highlighted a few. FBI, Homeland Security... Could be targets." She drops the latest book into a box they've started, and sifts through the paperwork mess. He's fitting the bill more and more... but what about Bobby's reaction...? As she sifts, she sees something that captures her full attention. Oh, God...
Engrossed in sifting through a different pile of personal effects and in a photo he found, Bobby only hears the professional evaluation in Alex's voice. The photo has his attention. "Found one picture of his son," he informs her, keeping a tight reign on his tone as he tacks it to Croydon's bulletin board. Amazing I found it... This place is a pigsty of epic magnitude. So familiar... "Looks at least five years old," he observes, resisting the urge to grit his teeth.
She listens as he talks, her heart developing a dark hole at the news she has to offer. If this weren't a case, I might not say anything to him... "He's an equal opportunity deadbeat," she comments tightly. "His wife filled out this healthcare form two months ago." She reluctantly – and barely concealing it – hands over the form. "He hasn't mailed it in yet." Eying his reaction, Alex feels the earlier concern growing.
His wife was sick... and he didn't take care of her... Bobby's body goes tight, head muscles tensing. Each thought squeezes his heart. Sitting to push aside the past, he holds up the book he found. "This is 'The Great Flu Epidemic'." Going into history mode helps him stay grounded. "The flu epidemic of 1918, killed 22 million people worldwide."
Great, Alex groans silently. It hit him hard. I need to-
"Excuse me." A sharp male voice interrupts Alex's thoughts. Said voice precedes an indignant, bearded man wearing glasses. Storming into the room and stopping several feet away from Alex, the man demands, "Who are you? And what the hell is going on here?!"
Wow, aren't you a sweetheart... Alex's being cringes so much at the man's behavior that she can easily let her worries slide away for now. Blithely, she remarks, "We just executed a search warrant."
The words turn Croydon into a blustering angry man. "A search – search for what?!"
Oh, we'll have to take you off your high horse... Bobby closes the book, eyes narrowing. "Evidence," he responds, standing, "of a crime." Moving next to Alex, he questions, knowing he won't get any affirmative answer out of the man, "Do you know a Connie Matson? She's a nurse."
"No." The slightly confused, vehement manner doesn't surprise either detective. Nor does the scanning over the activities of the other detectives and the CSU technicians.
Taking the form back from Bobby, Alex comments, "She applied for a job at your lab."
The words drag his attention back to them. "I don't hire the nurses," he retorts sharply, looking – to Alex's biased eyes – on the verge of fidgeting, "and you haven't answered my question: What are you searching for?"
"Well," Bobby drawls, smoothly moving over to the other desk, behind Alex, "this for one." He holds up one of the agencies' books Alex hadn't yet packed. "You highlighted some of the agencies. Any particular reason why?"
He reaches for the book. "They offered me work. I..." He trails off when Bobby doesn't let go, and resumes his searching. "You people don't know who you're dealing with, but you'll find out, I promise you."
Mentally shaking her head, Alex thinks, Bluffing blusterer... "Oh," she casually remarks, seizing on the opportunity to rattle Croydon, "speaking of unfulfilled promises, make sure you mail this." She plunks the form in to his startled hands. Bobby's father couldn't possibly have been this much of an asshole. Maybe I'm overreacting... Such thoughts occupy her as she walks past Croydon to check on the progress elsewhere in the place.
Croydon's shellacked demeanor brings a tight grin to Bobby's face. Way to go, Alex, he silently cheers. Knocked him down a bit already. Turning back to his scanning, Bobby anticipates a satisfactory conclusion for this case. We'll get him, he believes, because Alex has my back.