Author's Note: This story is a post ep. for season 7, episode 3 "Smile".
Credit where credit is due: A big thank you to Audra Goren who gave me the idea for this story. Thanks for putting interesting images in my head. I knew I wanted to write a post ep. for "Smile" but I didn't know my angle.
A big thank you, also, to Alyssa. She's not only the best beta ever; she really went above and beyond the call of duty on this one. Thanks for the help with the dialogue at the end. I was really stuck on it and I, too, thought it needed something more.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Used without permission or profit. Please don't sue.
Title: Pretty Good Team
By: Marion the Geek
Alexandra Eames was tired. So very, very tired. She climbed out of her car and fetched her file case from her trunk, stifling a weary yawn. Sleep had been an elusive commodity since Joseph Dutton's case had been dredged back to the forefront of her mind, and the stiff twinge between her shoulder blades indicated that tonight wouldn't be any different than the last. She rolled her shoulders and suppressed a shiver as she headed for the warmth of her home.
But it wasn't her late husband's face that was haunting her thoughts this evening. Her partner's stunned and confused look when she'd left him at the scene of Leslie Le Zard's arrest was burned on the inside of her eyelids. Part of her wished she could just call him and apologize. She wished she could say that the words had come out wrong and she hadn't meant to sound so harsh. But if she was honest with herself, she knew she had meant what she said. And she'd intended to say it in a way that caused him pain.
Feeling petulant and groaning at the headache she could feel descending, she unlocked the door and went inside. Her house phone was ringing as she entered, but she didn't feel like talking so she let it go to her answering machine.
"Eames," Bobby's voice sounded calm, but there was the slightest note of pleading. "If you're there, please pick up. You left before I had a chance to talk to you back at 1PP. I need to know if we're all right. I … I guess you aren't home yet. Please. Call me. I think we should talk."
"I'll just bet you do," she muttered. She heard the click as her partner hung up the phone. She sighed and shucked off her coat. She was in no mood to talk to him right now. If she did she knew she would only make things worse.
She shut her eyes against thoughts of her partner and tried to suppress the migraine pounding behind her eyeballs. Sheer will alone was not going to defeat this headache. She went to the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of inexpensive red wine. She grabbed a glass from the cabinet and headed for the bathroom with the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other.
She set the bottle and the glass on the edge of her bathtub and turned on the water. She pulled her sweater over her head as she crossed to the medicine cabinet over the bathroom sink. She was looking for ibuprofen. She was fresh out.
She shrugged out of her cream colored camisole as she continued to root through her medicine cabinet for a painkiller. She came across a nearly empty bottle of percocet. She had filled the prescription after her ordeal with Jo Gage, when the pain and cramping in her shoulders had caused her a great deal of discomfort. Her doctor had prescribed it as an "as needed" painkiller and she hadn't used it all.
Her cell-phone rang. She glanced at the caller I.D. and groaned. Why can't Bobby take a hint? She silenced the ringer and pinched the bridge of her nose.
The headache was getting worse, exacerbated by thoughts of her partner. She took two of the little oval peach colored pills, swallowing them dry. She shimmied out of her pants and bent down to check the water temperature. Perfect. She plugged the drain and sprinkled in a few lavender bath salts as the water level rose.
She poured a glass of wine, taking a lingering sip. She topped off the glass and set it back on the edge of the tub. She climbed in, settling herself in the deliciously warm water. She tried to relax, letting some of the tension seep out from the rigid set of her shoulders.
About fifteen minutes later her eyelids began to feel heavy. She smiled, her headache having ebbed some. Perhaps sleep would not be so elusive tonight.
xxx
Robert Goren didn't know what he was going to say to his partner, but he knew he had to talk to her. He couldn't stop replaying the scene in his head. Have I done something to anger her? He decided he must have, but he couldn't think what he had done. Could she really be that angry about my looking into her husband's case? Justice had finally been served. He'd done the right thing. He didn't doubt that.
He knocked loudly on her front door and waited. There was no answer. Her car was in the driveway. The light was on in her living room. She had to be home.
He knocked again, leaning down to peer through the window by the door. There was no sign of his bantam partner, but he did notice something odd. There was a puddle of water spreading out from her hallway. He took out the key she'd given him for use in emergencies. The one she'd given him after she'd been kidnapped.
"Eames?" he called, unlocking her door. She'd be pissed that he barged into her home, but Bobby couldn't shake his sudden feeling that something was wrong. "Eames? Where are you?"
He listened. He could hear water running in the bathroom. He followed the water seeping down the hallway to the bathroom door. "Eames?" He tried the bathroom door. Finding it unlocked, he pulled it open. The sight that met his eyes was something out of his worst nightmares.
Water was spilling over the rim of the tub and pooling on the floor. Alex was floating limply in the water, her head bobbing just below the surface. If he'd stopped to think about the fear gripping his heart it might have frozen him where he stood.
He raced forward, nearly slipping on the water splashing out onto the floor. He slid one hand under the back of her head, holding her nose and mouth above water. The other arm went beneath her knees. He lifted her out of the bathtub and laid her gently on the tile floor. He desperately fought down his mounting panic. With one hand he felt her neck for a pulse, while the other groped for his cell-phone. He dialed 9-1-1.
"9-1-1 emergency," said the operator. "May I help you?"
"This is Detective Robert Goren, badge number 4-3-7-6," said Bobby. "I need a bus at 27 Beach Crest, Rockaway. My partner had an accident in the bath."
He could hear the operator typing in the order. "Ambulance is on its way," she said. "ETA five minutes."
"Thank you," said Bobby. He turned his full attention back to his partner.
He almost whooped for joy when his fingers finally located her pulse. It was weak and thready, but it was there. He let his cell phone drop to the floor. He bent down, his ear right above her mouth, listening for breath.
The sound of the running water frustrated his attempt and he had to turn it off before leaning down again to listen. Nothing. She wasn't breathing. He tilted her head back slightly to clear her airway. Still nothing. He parted her lips, holding her chin in one hand and her nose firmly closed with the other. He sealed his lips over hers, giving two gentle rescue breaths. He watched as her chest rose and fell with each one.
"C'mon Alex," he begged. He forced breath into her twice more and then felt for her pulse again. Her skin felt clammy despite being warmed from the bathwater and she was very pale, her lips tinged slightly blue with oxygen deprivation.
She still had a pulse. He checked her airway. It looked clear. He gave two more rescue breaths and could have cried in relief when this time she coughed wetly and began to breathe shallowly on her own.
xxx
Alex awoke slowly, as if crawling out of a cramped dark tunnel. The fluorescent lights of the hospital room hurt her eyes and she squinted in the glare. Suddenly the light over her bed dimmed and a hulking dark shape came close to the side of her bed. Even with slightly blurry vision, she knew that shape. "Bobby…" The name caught in her throat which she now realized was raw.
"Shh," he said. "Here, drink this." He brought the straw of a glass of water to her lips and she sipped gratefully.
The water made her throat feel a little better. "What …" It was still hard to talk. She rubbed her throat.
"Don't try to speak, Alex," he said. "The nurse will be by in a few minutes to give you some sore throat spray. They had to put a tube down your throat to pump your stomach."
Pump her stomach? Alex squirmed at this revelation. "Why?" she croaked.
Her vision was clearing and she could see sadness and an intense weariness settle on his features. There was something more, too. An anger lying just below the surface. He helped her to drink some more water. "They pumped your stomach because you chased percocet with wine and very nearly drowned in your bath."
She had the grace to look embarrassed. She dropped her gaze from his and studied her hands. She had an I.V. in her left arm. She gazed around the room, looking anywhere but into her partner's accusing glare.
"Let me repeat the important part of that," he said. "You chased percocet with wine and almost drowned! What the hell were you thinking?"
"That I had a really bad headache," she croaked, meeting his gaze again. "That I hadn't slept in days. Maybe it was stupid, but I just wanted relief."
"Maybe it was stupid? Maybe?" He leaned down, getting in her face like she was just another suspect. "You could have died!" And in that moment all of the fear behind his anger could be seen on his face.
He slumped bodily into the chair at her bedside with a weary sigh. His hands came up to cover his face. He ran them through his hair. "Do you want a new partner?"
Alex frowned at the non sequitur. "What?"
"'It's too late,'" he said almost mockingly. Whether he was mocking himself or the woman lying in the hospital bed, he wasn't sure. "I've tainted your career. I'm giving you an out. Do you want a new partner?"
"You came to the hospital to ask me that?" she said, her voice getting a little stronger and taking on a sharp edge. "You couldn't wait until I was released?"
"I came to the hospital in the ambulance with you," he said defensively. "I came to your house to ask you that. I found you floating in the tub, Alex. You weren't breathing. I… I thought you were dead."
"Gee, I'm sorry," she said. "You know I think I'm having a pretty shitty day, too. Can we not deal with your abandonment issues for one day?"
Bobby looked as though she'd slapped him. He got up and headed for the door. "I'll just take care of it," he said. "I'll make sure your new partner won't hold you back. I've been dragging you down long enough. I'm sure you'll be better off without me."
Alex looked at the cross on her wall, proclaiming her confinement to be St. Catherine's hospital. "If you're going to be a martyr, there's a cross right here," she said. "You don't have to leave."
He looked back at her, trying to fight down the hurt that shown plainly on his face. He turned his back on her and left the room.
Alex felt like a cold hearted bitch. She cursed whatever part of her that would cause her to say anything that would evoke such an expression from him. She took survey of herself as she clawed frantically at her I.V. She was wearing a hospital gown and nothing else. She suddenly didn't care how stupid she looked. She pulled out the I.V. and threw her legs over the side of the bed. Alarms were sounding on the machines as she pulled off vital-sign monitors. She ran for the door of her hospital room, not caring that her knees were wobbly or that she was so dizzy she could barely see.
She stumbled into the hallway. "Bobby," she called after him. He didn't look back. "Bobby, wait. Please!" She tried to run to catch him, but crashed into cart of hospital equipment. Alex hit the floor with a small shriek, more of frustration than pain.
Several nurses were moving in to aid her. Bobby had turned around at the sound of the crash. "Alex!" He took several long strides until he was kneeling at her side. "Are you all right?"
"Don't leave," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm… I'm sorry."
Bobby picked her up, cradling her in his arms like a child. "I've got her," he said to a concerned looking nurse. "But it would probably be better if you reattach her I.V." The nurse nodded and followed him back to Alex's room.
Alex's head was lolling back on Bobby's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said again.
"I know," he said softly. He laid her on the bed gently and the nurse went to work reattaching monitors. Bobby looked away to preserve Alex's modesty.
Alex waited for the nurse to leave before speaking again. "What happened to us?" she asked.
"I don't know," said Bobby. He settled himself back into the chair.
"We used to be friends," she said. "We were the best in the department."
"We're still the best in the department," said Bobby. "I'm sorry I never realized that you wanted to make captain."
"I don't," she said.
Bobby and Alex looked at each other for a long, silent moment.
"I was just being hurtful," said Alex. "I guess I assumed that you would realize that." She waited a few seconds. "I'm sorry Bobby," she added quietly.
Bobby looked down, feeling a little ashamed. "I know that I hurt you when I pushed about Joe…"
"You were doing your job," she interrupted. "You were doing both of our jobs and I don't want that anymore. I don't want you to have to cover for me or me to have to cover for you. I want to go back to the way we were."
"I don't know if we can do that," said Bobby.
Alex bit her lip to keep from crying. "We can try," she said. "We have to try. We're partners."
"We don't have to be," he said. He was looking at his feet. "The last year hasn't been easy on you. I… I haven't been a very good partner. I don't want you to feel like you have to stay."
"It's too late, Bobby," she said. "I couldn't leave you if I wanted to. Which I don't. I wouldn't know what to do with another partner."
"You'd land on your feet," he said, studying her now.
She frowned. "Do you want another partner?"
His hand found hers on the stiff sheets. He patted it tentatively in what he hoped was a comforting manner. "No," he said. "I don't."
"Jeez, no wonder we're not married," snarked Alex. "We suck at this whole emotional connection thing."
Bobby's hand stopped patting and came to rest over hers. The corners of his mouth tugged upward slightly. "I didn't know you wanted to marry me," he said, affecting a perfectly serious tone.
She coughed and her eyes widened, coming up to meet his. She went crimson from the neck of her gown, up. "You know what I meant," she said.
A laughing smile broke over his face. "I wish you could see the look you're giving me right now," he said.
She looked down to try to hide a smile. "God, wouldn't that be a disaster," she said. "You and me."
"I don't know," he said, his hand still resting over hers. "I think we make a pretty good team."
She turned her hand over, her fingers entwining with his. Their eyes met and she smiled. "You better believe it, partner," she said.
Author's note: Thoughts? Sticks, stones, and flaming arrows? Reviews, as always, rock my world.