Real love stories never have endings. ~Richard Bach
Her grip was firm the first time she held my hand and the coolness in her eyes matched her skin temperature. She definitely wasn't nervous about meeting me.
"Welcome to Major Case", she said simply, with no use of name or rank. She wasn't sure what to call me. I rather like the uncertainty my first name causes. I always introduce myself as Robert Goren. Robert sounds formal and it's interesting to see if someone new will immediately shorten it to Bob or Rob. Eames was cautious, but it didn't take long before she surprised me with "What does your mother call you?". I knew what she was after and replied, "Bobby". As I said it, I looked to her out of the corner of my eye, but she showed no smirk and continued with the paperwork she was bent over. It was a bit more information than I wanted to give out. I wanted to keep her on edge. I had no plans of being her buddy. She was probably quietly rolling her eyes that someone my size would respond to a name better suited to a boy under 10 years old.
She had surprised me that first day. I really wondered how this composed professional looking woman had passed herself off as a hooker on the streets of Chelsea. I'd like to see those photos. She was a tiny thing and was definitely going to be no use if things got out of hand. Oh well, I'd make do.
I really didn't need a partner, but it was protocol. I was hoping she wouldn't want to be actively involved in cases. I really didn't need to be second guessed. It just slowed me down. But the look in her eye told me she couldn't be ignored, either. I might have to tread carefully with this partner.
I'd read her file. There are perks to being tall and able to smile a sweet smile. I could get a long way with most women. As far as I ever needed to get, anyway. Erin down in Personnel was a push over. I just had to smile and promise her biscotti and she would let me read almost anything I wanted. That's how I got Eames file.
I learned Eames was a good shot (better than me), that she came from a long line of police officers and that she had recently been widowed. I worried about that. I didn't look forward to a blubbering melt-down if she suffered from PTSD. Her file indicated she was very good at her job. So far. She hadn't been in Major Case long. It didn't matter. I'd figure out how it all worked within a couple of days. Just give me a puzzle to play with.
Everything I learned about Alexandra Eames through her file was not really important. I was just mildly curious. It's good to know a bit about the person who could hold your life in their hands. But it really didn't matter. As a partner, she wouldn't last long. They never did.
I underestimated Eames. I made the fundamental mistake of categorizing her. In my experience, beautiful women don't use their brains. But this one does. I really was a bit arrogant those first few months, trying to do it all and shut her out. Eames is a linear thinker just like most other people I've met. But for some reason she seems to be able to fill in the gaps I will sometimes leap over, and in filling them in she can race ahead of me in a particular direction. The other thing she has an art for is cutting through the crap. Carver and I could be debating a point and suddenly Eames would break through our wrangling with a rapidly well-thought out idea. Now I look forward to work for this new element. A partner I can work with and who will work with me. It's completely unexpected, refreshing and gives me another level of play. She is pretty patient when I get on a roll. Only once or twice has she hauled me up on the carpet for inappropriate behaviour and she was probably right. She knows about Mom. I guess she'll figure the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree. She's probably planning her escape from this partnership already. No, she won't last long.
My hand closing around her throat was a latent wish to get rid of her. I wanted my Eames back. Not that Bishop wasn't intelligent. But she sure wasn't Eames.
I pretty much ignored Eames pregnancy. Although I kept a close eye on her, we never discussed it even when she had to run to the Ladies Room to throw up whatever little amount she'd eaten. It couldn't have been easy for her. I just treated everything as normal. I was pretty sure that's what she'd want. She told me about the pregnancy right after it was confirmed. Luckily she couldn't see the shock on my face as I had just turned away from her. When I did face her, I was composed and looked back at her through hooded eyes. I didn't get it. I guess that comes from having a train wreck of a family like mine. She was making an amazing sacrifice. I honestly didn't know what to say or think, so I said nothing. Right away I worried. Once the baby was taken away from her, she would want her own. Those hormones would become my worst enemy. No, she wouldn't last long.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. She'd asked for a new partner? What shocked me most was not that she hadn't told me, but how she reacted. I was fascinated watching her. I'd never seen her so uncomfortable.
She looked with classic Eames-disgust at the defense lawyer when she realized what he'd handed her. As she read the letter she'd written years before, her voice shook and her eyes were shining. This was a side of Eames I had never seen. I could have watched her all day. Exactly what was all this pent up emotion for? Embarrassment? The most fascinating part was when Carver questioned her. Her voice steadied and although she had to choose her words and phrases quickly, they eloquently made their point to the filled courtroom. She was always a great witness on the stand, much better than I am.
Under other circumstances I would have laughed out loud at being labelled "an acquired taste", but I was busy trying to observe everything around me as well as quell the unexpected blush that was rising from my shirt collar as I realized what a compliment she was bestowing on me. I had no doubt most of her discomfort stemmed from doing a 180 degree turn about from her original description of me in that letter dated almost 6 years ago. Funny, I don't think I've changed much, but her perception of me seems to have.
But poor woman, she really didn't like having to talk about me. She's worse than most guys I know for sharing her feelings. I think Eames is more reserved than I am. She finds it easy to snark, but showing her true feeling is almost torture to her. I knew I had to let her off the hook easily. That letter and the opinions in it were from a long time ago. What bothered me most was that she had never said anything at the time and I had never noticed her unhappiness. She would have given me no warning before she dumped me as a partner. As the court session ended, I only had a few minutes to decide what I'd say to her. When I finally met her disconcerted hazel eyes, for some reason I lost the flippancy and smile I had started with and said from my heart that I was lucky she'd withdrawn her letter. I had to walk away right after. Obviously I've had good reason to worry that she won't last long.
Where are you? I'm sure you're alive. Where are you? I would know if you were dead. I'd know. Why can't I solve this puzzle? Declan is just confusing me. I wish he'd shut up, but then I might glean some information from him or he might spark an idea. But I have this gnawing feeling that Jo is behind this.
I remember those frantic hours before you freed yourself. I will never forgive myself for not being able to find you. It was like every brain cell in my head was overloaded. I was scared. Not being able to think clearly, so I could help you, frightened me even more. It was a horrific roller coaster that I will never be able to forget. When I wasn't soaked in sweat, I was vomiting in the men's room. From the shock of locating your cell phone in Declan's briefcase, to popping the trunk of your car to find the body (thank God, not your body), to Declan teasing me that you just might be alive, those were the longest hours of my life. Eames. I just don't do well without you. It made me physically ill to know that what had happened to those other women could be happening to you. No one deserved that, but especially not you. Not you. I wish Jo had taken me instead.
I know that I couldn't have prevented what happened. At least my head tells me that, but this guilt continues to weigh me down. I wish I could tell you how upset I was. I wish I could share more. I wish you knew how I had to sit down when they told me you were found and on your way to the hospital. But you wouldn't want to hear that. Instead I composed myself and left behind all of the angst as I sat down beside your hospital bed. I made it a professional fact-gathering visit.
I know your displays of disgust and anger cover a deeper compassionate and caring heart. You've had some profound events darken your life and have risen above them. But how are you ever going to recover from this? I can't imagine the pain, the terror and the helplessness you must have felt. I hold my breath every day when I walk into the squad room. I'm afraid that now I finally will be right. I'm afraid that you won't last long.
You yelled at me. This isn't one of your puzzles, you said. You allowed your mask to slip openly in front of me. I was almost frozen from uncertainty about how to approach you. I'm sorry Eames. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. But I just can't help myself. It's like a biological imperative.
I just followed where the bread crumbs led, afraid from the start that this was going to open old wounds. And it did. I was so out of my depth because of your personal involvement. I didn't know what to say or do to make it easier for you. I called you Alex for the first time. I wanted you to know that I was there on more than a professional level. That I regretted causing you pain and undermining everything you'd understood for 8 years. I really would have liked to touch you, but we don't touch, so that would have been a disaster. I had to lower my eyes from the enormous pain in yours. If I could have absorbed that pain I would have gladly. But then another part of me wanted to run from your pain and not know anything about it. Whichever, I did not want to watch you suffer. Eight years later, the pain of losing Joe is still so raw? I hope he deserved your loyalty. I wish I could find that kind of loyalty.
I really didn't mean to cause you embarrassment by finding the real murderer. At the time you just accepted without question what they told you. They spun their story hastily, so you would have closure and a focal point for your anger.
The week of our investigation, you continued to function, to do the final interviews and make the arrest, but at the end, you were like a small deflated bird that had lost its chirp. You're probably still so mad at me that this really will be the end. No, you won't last much longer with me.
The last few months have been the worst of my life. Stay away from me Eames, I'm poison. I really don't know what possessed me to go into Tates to try to save Donny. I can't believe you didn't stop me. And now you have a black mark on your file because you were complicit in my mistakes. That's unforgivable. That's why I'm not answering or returning your calls. I miss our lives together. I have failed so miserably on so many levels. Maybe Moran was right about my sanity. You shouldn't stick around. How have you lasted this long?
I thought I was doing the right thing. I'm stunned that you're so mad at me over this undercover thing. It really was my only way back. Don't worry about pulling the trigger. I knew you wouldn't.
Wow, Eames, what a blast you gave me. You ranted and raged at me. In a funny way, I'm so proud of you. Well, once I got over the shock of your tirade, I was proud of you. It was like opening the doors of a blast furnace. So unlike you. You poured out years of frustration at me. You were white hot, yet so collected. Sometimes I think you should have been a lawyer, because you made searing point after point. Even though you paused to give me chances to reply, you had me fumbling for words, sounding and feeling like a teenager. I just thought you'd be so happy I'd be getting my badge back and we could return to our lives. That's what I was completely focussed on. I guess I was in lala land, huh? I'm trying really hard to analyse everything you said. I was just trying to get back to you - I knew everything would be okay when we were back together. After this mess, I guess it'll be a miracle if you last much longer.
Why are you here? This is not. your job. You don't need to pick up the pieces Declan has torn off. You. don't need to be here. I can't. stop. sobbing. It's embarrassing. I did my job. I got. Declan. You don't need. to stay.
We'd been doing so well. You and I. We were snapping again. I was contributing. Fewer nightmares. Now this.
Frankie. I loved him. There will be no more chances. for. us. I want. another chance. I don't want. to be alone. Why. Why did he always bring you. into our conversations?
Declan. So far gone. He could have come. after you. In his sick twisted mind, anything could have happened. He's so jealous of you. Free? I can't see that. I just feel. crushed.
Sorry I fought you. I'm sorry. I pushed you away. Don't know why. I need you. You are the only normal thing. You've saved me over and over. I hate to burden you. They're my problems, not yours. This isn't your job. I can't ask more of you. I wish we could last so much longer.
You were born today, Max. I've never seen anything so beautiful. Except your Mommy. Yes, this smile is for you and I'm not sure what the tear is for. This time I was there for every twinge of your mom's pregnancy. When you're older, I'll tell you all about the day your mother fired me. And that's when our lives really began. Of course your mom was there for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, long before she spoke the vows. Thank God she proved me wrong about one thing. I said she wouldn't last long. Instead, she's promised me eternity.