Disclaimer:All of the characters are the property of Dick Wolf. I thank him, the writers, the directors and all the great actors who brought them "to life" for our benefit. Any "liberties" I have taken with them stems from my fond admiration (and a few personal quirks I will seek "help" for).
AN: This story is not set within the accepted "canon" for the characters as it is only officially portrayed by the TV series. So I get to "fool around" with them in ways in which they've never been seen, stretching that to the limit and suspending the "reality" that is "fiction" to start with…now there's a contradiction in terms!!!
(And yeah Goren I know the proper word for that is oxymoron…if you want something to do go tidy your sock drawer…it must be three hours since you last did it…I'm busy)
It's two in the morning somewhere in a residential suburb of New York…
THE STAKEOUT
"Brrrr" said Bobby Goren getting back into the SUV, with faint white wisps coming from his breath as he shut the passenger door. "Trust us to get stakeout duty the coldest night of winter so far"
"I wonder why that is?" muttered his partner Alex Eames. "Who it was annoyed the Captain by correcting his notice about the Christmas leave arrangements? Royally pissed him off?"
Bobby wriggled in his seat a little and said quietly. "Say what you like Eames. Yuletide is spelled Y-U-L-E. Always has been and never will be Y-O-U-'-L-L the way he had it"
"Whatever" she reached for the thermos flask between them. "Want some more coffee Bobby?"
"No thanks" he replied. "Otherwise I'll need to be…um…again"
He reached for the radio "Ouch!!"
Eames had slapped his hand. "I'm not having any more of that that damned narco corrido music Bobby" she snapped. "It's depressing"
"And if I can't have that, you are not tuning to that station plays only Whitney Houston and Celine Dion" Bobby responded petulantly. "I'm sure my hearing in the upper frequency ranges is permanently damaged already"
"Finish your crossword then" she suggested.
"I have" he was lining up the pencils and pens on the dash so they were perfectly symmetrical.
"You can borrow my Cosmo if you want?" Eames offered knowing the importance of keeping Bobby's mind occupied if his fidgeting was not to drive her crazy.
"No thanks. I read it last week. And did the quiz"
"Excuse me?" she frowned.
"I went to the dentist remember"
Bobby was taking the ball pens apart to see how much ink was left in the refills.
"And by the way my cool and emotionally detached exterior is a mechanism to hide my secret foxy nature. Just in case you were wondering"
"Been bothering me for weeks to know that" Eames muttered before she suddenly glanced up.
"What was that? Something moved?"
"Probably that ginger tom cat from across the street I tripped over just now…when I was…um"
"Wondered what that yelping noise was" Eames said. "Hope you didn't hurt him too much Bobby. You're a big guy and he's not a very big cat"
"That was me yelping Eames" he growled. "When I tripped over him, he let go the mouse he was toying with and I trod on that. Made a hell of a mess on my shoe"
"Aaaargh!!" screamed Eames as he waved a size 13 under her nose with what looked like lump of strawberry jam stuck to the side.
"Put your foot down! That's disgusting Bobby"
"What's disgusting Eames is that these are a brand new pair of $900 Roberto Cavelli's" Bobby grumbled.
"And they say women are obsessed by shoes" she scoffed.
"If you had feet my size to say nothing of that…um…thing with my right big toe, you'd understand the trials of getting comfortable footwear" he muttered. "Never mind at a price doesn't require a loan from the World Bank each time I go shopping"
Eames turned to look at him "Yeah what is this thing about your big toe you keep going on about Bobby? Are there two or is it webbed or something weird like that?"
"No it is not" Bobby snapped. "It was an incident when I was in the Army. Involving my right foot and a small, armoured personnel carrier if you must know"
Eames tried not to giggle, "I reckon you were evenly matched. It was a fair fight"
"I wouldn't know" Bobby was drumming his fingers on the roof.
"When I got out of the base hospital it had been scrapped. That's why Uncle Sam refused me compensation" he paused. "They did agree to drop the charges against me though"
"Not all bad then" she said trying to see the upside.
"Only if you consider a lifetime of nightmare shoe shopping a bonus" he said glancing over his shoulder, before adding "Fancy getting in the back seat Eames?"
"What!!" she squawked before gathering her composure. "Is this your secret foxy side coming out Bobby?"
"No. Just thinking if you did that I would have the room to stretch out across both front seats and avoid the cramp" he was wriggling around. "This SUV's damn small"
"It's perfectly big enough for the average sized person Bobby" Eames hinted darkly. "And whose fault is it that our usual one is in the shop for repair?"
She began to get annoyed about that all over again.
"Once Bobby!" she barked. "The one time I let you drive and look what happened!"
"I warned you I was never much good at parallel parking" he said awkwardly.
"Bobby" Eames sighed. "You had half the apron at JFK International to manoeuvre in and still managed to take out a Cessna and have that poor El Al pilot on the runway convinced we were suicide car bombers"
"He made the take off didn't he?" Bobby muttered. "Very sturdy plane the 747. Credit to the Boeing Corporation"
"Just as well the day Flight 234 for Tel Aviv pulled the same G force as the space shuttle on take off" said Eames as Bobby shifted again his seat and began cracking his knuckles.
"Eeew! Stop that Bobby!" she ordered him. "Or I'll start scraping my fingernails down the windshield glass like I did last time"
"Please don't" he softly with a visible shudder. "We could play a game if you like. How about "Who Am I?"
"No. You always win" Eames pouted, "How about "I Spy"? Chance to test your famous powers of observation?"
"Sure"
"And I get to go first?"
"Okay" he shrugged.
"I spy with my little eye something beginning with P" said Eames.
"That was quick" he startled, getting no chance to see where her eye line was tracking to get a clue.
"I'm observant Bobby" Eames said, "Whilst you've been twitching and fidgeting around with everything in arm's reach I've been paying attention to the situation"
"Really" he said sceptically before reeling off…."Pen, paper, pencils, parking permit, paper as in news or magazine as opposed to the writing sort"
"No""You sure?" he challenged her.
"Bobby I'm not some half-witted suspect trying to get away with lying to you" Eames snorted.
"I guess not" Bobby drew breath. "Polystyrene as in the cup, pencil sharpener, plastic bag…"
"Hey just a minute" interrupted Eames. "If it was those things I'd have said PC or PS or PB?"
"Well that's pretty dumb" snorted Bobby. "That makes it far too easy. The way I play "I Spy" it's the only the first word you say the letter of. Leaves more options open"
"Never mind "cool and detached" more uptight and poker up your ass" Eames hissed softly.
"Pardon?" asked Bobby. "I didn't catch that Eames"
"I didn't say anything Bobby" she lied.
"I told you one more playing of "I will always love you" would damage my hearing" Bobby complained rubbing his ears. "I've probably got tinnitus now"
"Or a foxy hypochondriac" she murmured, before raising her voice to a normal level. "It's a single word Bobby"
"Okay" he glanced round "Panel, pedal, photographs, penlight, pacifier…I wonder who the hell had this car before us…Stabler probably…paperclip, pin, plan as in street map, pennies, um…"
"Give up?" asked Eames
Bobby gave her a hurt expression that she would even think of such a thing.
"No" he said before suddenly announcing "Pachyderm"
"What?" Eames frowned.
"The elephant on the key chain" he nodded towards the ignition.
"The name for large, thick-skinned animal. Like a rhino or a hippo or an elephant" he said triumphantly
"This is "I Spy" Bobby" snorted Eames "Not "Jeopardy" and you going for the top prize"
"And me" Bobby said sadly.
"What?"
"I meant I need to have a thick skin for some of the things you say to me at times Eames" Bobby said softly.
"Oh stop being a martyr Bobby" she snorted. "It doesn't suit you and you're just getting ticked you didn't guess it yet"
Bobby cleared his throat knowing that was the truth and took a deep breath.
"Pole, pavement, porch, pathway, packaging…people will drop their litter won't they…Pontiac, poplar, pine, phone booth…oh no I forgot this is the Eames variation…phone then, philodendron, poinsettia…"
"Where?" challenged Eames.
"Front window of three sixty-two Miss Observant Knickers" he said casually.
"Palings, portico, pot of the garden variety not the drug, potato or peelings…"
"Where Bobby?" she challenged again.
"It was what the mouse was eating before the cat got it and I trod on it"
He went to raise his right foot "You can check if you want"
"No thanks" Eames muttered.
"Pussy"
"Excuse me?" she bridled.
Bobby nodded "That ginger tom sat under the tree there. What did you think I meant?"
Twenty minutes later Bobby had exhausted his knowledge of astronomy. It was a clear night and Eames did not seem convinced by his assertion "Oh come on…EVERYONE can find Pisces, Pollux, Perseus and Pherkad".
"Pantograph, pterodactyl" he said.
"Now you're being silly Bobby" muttered Eames. "Where's the pterodactyl? Nesting in the philodendron bush I suppose?"
"No but before he went to bed and drew the drapes the kid at three sixty-two had model dinosaurs on the window ledge" Bobby sneered slightly. "Reasonable to assume a pterodactyl is amongst his collection"
Eames sighed "I wonder sometimes about you Bobby. This is what you can see. Not what you can reasonably deduce, infer or weave some theory about. And what's a pantograph?"
"An ancient device for enlarging pictures" Bobby explained, starting to gesticulate.
"You adjust the hinged arms have a scale on them and follow the lines of the original with a sort of pointer, whilst the pen or pencil…"
"Shut up" said Eames. "Can you see one? Or are you about to come up with some bizarre explanation why one of the residents probably has one? One, you still can't see incidentally?"
"No" Bobby said sulkily.
"Give up?" she asked hopefully, though dreading when it was his turn what Bobby might come up with.
"No. Can I have a clue?" he asked with the same sort of reluctance with which he might agree to having root canal work done without benefit of anaesthesia.
"One" said Eames shortly. "You are so damned perfectionist Bobby. Except when it comes to parallel parking anyway"
He glanced over at her. "I know" he said ruefully.
"I do have a sort of competitive streak to my nature" he gave her a little smile. "Must be my foxy side"
"Well just let me get out of the car next time you want to compete with a 747 for runway priority" his partner said. "One clue then. It's in the car not outside"
"Hmm" he said "Oh!! It's so obvious how did I miss it?"
"I was wondering" said Eames.
"Pants"
"No" she snorted. "But you are getting warm in that general area"
Bobby glanced down.
"Aaaargh!!!" he screamed grabbing for his crotch and his zipper. "Oh shit!!"
He was bucking off the seat trying to deal with what he finally realised the "P" was. Except, as he wrestled with himself and his clothing in the confines of the small SUV, Bobby was getting into worse trouble.
"Damn!!" he howled as both his knees crashed painfully into the glove box.
"Ouch" he spat as his head hit the roof and the vehicle rocked ominously with his shifting weight.
"Oh that hurts" Bobby cracked his elbow on the window so hard it was just as well it was toughened safety glass.
"Aaaargh" he screamed again.
Thanks to his haste Bobby was sure fatherhood would now be impossible.
There was a final "Oooch that stings" as he settled a little, knowing full well he'd now got an impromptu, unorthodox and partial "Hollywood" down the left side of his groin. Tears of tingling pain welled in the corners of his eyes as Goren clung to the grab handle and the parking brake. Against the ghastly stinging sensation and the terrible temptation to cradle and sooth all parts of his anatomy down there.
Bobby took a deep and shuddering breath.
"Eames" he croaked, "You let me sit here the best part of half an hour like that. Why didn't you say something?"
"It's always hard to know quite what to say to a guy in that situation" she said coolly like nothing had happened. "Especially for a woman"
"I would have thought it was very simple" Bobby swallowed hard and moved fractionally, wincing with every millimetre.
"Don't they have that sort of advice in Cosmo or are they so fixated on G spots, acne spots and the latest night spots?"
"Dunno" she shrugged. "Maybe you should submit an article yourself? Tell women what cool and detached but deep down foxy guys wouldn't mind hearing. There's probably time to write it before our shift is finished"
"Maybe" said Bobby gritting his teeth with the discomfort and irritation.
"And maybe, if you had said something or just pointed I wouldn't now have a concussion, two broken kneecaps, a chipped elbow and an as yet unspecified number of injuries to my…um…you knows"
"Cured your tinnitus though didn't it?" Eames muttered, "I take it you worked out the "I Spy" answer then?"
"Possibly" Bobby hissed, finally wriggling himself into a seated position that wasn't excruciating
"Your turn then Bobby" said his partner "And I guess you learned one thing tonight"
"Which is?" he muttered
"Next time the Captain makes a spelling error on one of his notices. Leave the damned thing alone Bobby!!"
ANBobby is "fine" now by the way…no permanent damage done…just a bit itchy…