A/N: The timeline runs concurrent with Lady's Man. Some text is pulled directly from the show - no copyright infringement intended.
The entire story is Alex POV
If I'd known that this was how my day was going to go, I would've just stayed in the bed.
Bobby's bed, I amended with an internal smile.
Our relationship was still so new that I couldn't have that thought without the accompanying jolt of pleasure that came along with it.
But unfortunately, I had gotten up. I'd left the warmth of his embrace so that I could go for a run, pick up my dry cleaning, and get cleaned up for work.
Separately.
I thought that was important for some reason. That we each continue to prepare for our day in our respective homes.
I was so desperately afraid of tangling up work with our relationship that I'd actually laid out specific guidelines.
He'd chuckled at me, but he'd been a good sport.
"No touching at work," I'd said.
"Not at all? What if I need to get your attention?" he'd asked obtusely as he tried to hold back a smile.
A happy Bobby was an unusual but welcome sight, so I held back my sharp reply.
"You know what I mean," I'd said instead. "And no making personal plans while we're on the clock."
"Even in my head? Or just not out loud?"
At this point, I'd sighed loudly and then ran my hand down his bare chest, pausing only briefly when my fingertips touched the waistband of his boxers.
"Do you want to do this or not?" I'd asked him as my hand slipped underneath the fabric. We'd been lying in his bed, our skin still slick with sweat from our most recent encounter.
At that point, he'd quickly rolled, pinning me beneath him. He began to speak, but he paused after each word to kiss me.
"I…most…definitely…want…to…do… this."
By that time, I'd been so fired up with need that I'd forgotten the point of the whole discussion.
Without a doubt, the man knew how to kiss, knew how to do everything, and it seemed as though he'd been storing up nine years worth of desire.
For me, he'd insisted. For nine years he'd been wanting me.
And now for the past two weeks, he'd been having me. Often.
At first I'd been scared to death that we were ruining everything - the friendship, the partnership, all of it.
But so far so good.
He was talking more. And I was talking…some.
I knew that we would hit some snags and have issues that would have to be worked through, but with each passing day I was beginning to feel more confident that we could do this thing.
We could have everything.
But that was before my past came back to bite me in the ass.
Because after I'd gone for my run, and picked up my dry cleaning, and done all of those things that I insisted on doing alone, I got the call.
Boz Burnham was dead.
And as I stood there thinking back to what had happened ten years before when I'd investigated Burnham's wife's murder, my day suddenly got a little worse.
I glanced at him upon his approach and waited for him to finish his introduction.
"Kevin Mulrooney," he announced as though we should be impressed.
I silently asked what I had done to deserve this kind of karma. Bobby and I hadn't gotten around to talking about our personal pasts yet, and now I had to have mine brought to the forefront?
"Alexandra?" Mulrooney asked when he finally looked at me. I wanted to look anywhere except at him.
"So you're back in the DA's office?" I asked, keeping my gaze on the body. It was sad that the dead body was preferable to Mulrooney, but it was the truth.
I didn't remember him being so arrogant ten years ago. And maybe he had been, I don't know, but he certainly was now.
I wasn't even sure why he'd felt the need to come to the scene, but here he was.
And then he had to go stand next to Bobby. As if I needed that visual reminder of what an idiot I'd been before, because seeing the two of them side by side was almost enough to make me laugh.
The man I was sleeping with and the man I almost slept with. Well, I had to give myself credit for having vastly improved on my own standards.
Mulrooney made a not-so-veiled jab at my inability to have provided the evidence needed to convict Burnham ten years ago and so I lashed out.
"I'd say this has the look of something very personal," I tossed at him after I'd whipped back the body bag to show the mutilation that had been done to the victim.
It was unprofessional of me to be so openly hostile, but he'd hit me where it hurt.
It had been my fault that our original case had gone to hell, and now he was going to bring that up in front of Bobby?
Hell, the whole thing was going to be blown wide open.
Like I said, I should've stayed in bed.
I was well aware of the quizzical looks that Bobby gave to both Mulrooney and me.
He wanted to ask questions.
The fact that he didn't immediately hit me up in the car was a testament to his willpower.
He knew that I was angry, and he gave me the courtesy of allowing me a cool-off period as we drove to the victim's home.
Because despite the fact that it felt as though we'd known each other forever, this was all new to us. This new privilege we had of seeing into each other's personal lives.
We had no trouble finding common ground in the bedroom. In fact, the sex was so much better than I'd expected…and trust me, my expectations were fairly high.
But emotionally, it was all new territory.
Now a question only needed to be asked and the other would provide the answer. That's what couples did.
I no longer had to guess what it was about a suspect that set him off, and he no longer had to wonder why I sometimes had to break away from the intensity of his gaze.
But we did. We did still guess and wonder because even though we were allowed the benefit of inquisition, neither of us had taken advantage of that opportunity yet.
We were both so used to keeping our feelings locked away, that we hadn't jumped straight into the Q and A period.
Because asking and answering was hard, too. And it was very hard for two people who were quite adept at only showing glimpses.
So he didn't ask me about Mulrooney as we drove to Burnham's house. In fact, he didn't say anything at all.
But he did break one of my rules. And I let him.
In a gesture of silent support, he put his hand over mine where it rested against my leg as I drove the SUV across town.
We interviewed the widow and Boz's old friends Max and Craig. The information we learned from them led us to the murder site.
The entire morning, with the exception of that first car ride, we remained professional.
In fact, it was almost as though I'd dreamed the past two weeks of nights spent in Bobby's bed.
He was just being my partner, Bobby, with no hint that there was anything more to us.
No indication that I'd gotten out of his bed this morning at six o'clock after an hour-long session of early morning love-making that almost convinced me to forego my run.
Hell, after the workout we'd done, I didn't really think I needed any more cardio activity.
But I'd insisted. Because I wanted to keep things separate.
It never occurred to me until this very moment that I'd never asked him what he wanted.
I was the one laying down the rules. I was the one enforcing the distance.
Maybe it had been too long since I'd had a relationship. I'd forgotten that one of the most important parts was that it was supposed to be give and take.
What did he want from this thing we'd entered into?
Was it just about the sex?
I found that hard to believe, and yet at the same time, it was almost the impression that I was giving to him, wasn't it? I pretended all day long that I had no interest in him whatsoever and then I drove him home and pounced on him before he could barely close his front door.
Why?
Because I'd been fantasizing about him all day. But he wouldn't know that.
Because I never told him.
And now this case…this case was not what we needed right now. We weren't on solid footing, and this had the potential to completely pull the rug from underneath us.
I almost wished he would just ask.
Eames, what was between you and Mulrooney? Why couldn't you look him in the eye?
And those were just the personal questions.
The professional side was just as bad because I didn't want Bobby to think less of me. But I was afraid that he might.
Mulrooney blames you for the lack of conviction. Did you screw up this case ten years ago?
But he didn't ask me anything at all.
We got back from Atlantic Beach and reported in to Captain Ross.
We were flawless in our presentation of the evidence.
"Would you mind giving us a minute?" Ross asked Bobby when we'd finished our update.
And then he said he wanted to pull me off the case.
Another shot to my already weakened sense of self today…
As much as I didn't want to work this case, I also didn't want to be taken off of it, so I stood my ground and won my argument.
But it occurred to me that Ross had jumped the gun with suggesting I hand this one off.
"This is coming from the DA's office," I stated, already knowing the answer.
"I'll tell them you're the best I've got," he replied.
It would've meant a lot more if he'd just said that to begin with rather than making me fight for it, but I would take what I could get.
I gathered Bobby from the squad room and together we went to the morgue. I felt the distance yawning between us like some gaping chasm. I didn't know how to bridge the span.
Talk, Alex, I yelled at myself.
But what if I said something, and it was the wrong thing?
This is Bobby, I reminded myself.
Exactly. It was Bobby.
And even though I hadn't said it out loud to him yet, I loved him.
I couldn't risk losing his respect at the thought of me botching the case, or losing his adoration at the idea of me having a thing with Mulrooney.
So I still said nothing.
We talked to Rodgers about what she'd learned from the body. I avoided looking at Bobby because I felt like I was bordering on losing it and I couldn't let that happen.
But as we tossed about ideas, I started to feel like we were catching our rhythm. He was making an effort, I could tell. The poor man had probably nearly cut out his tongue to keep from asking questions.
I needed to get over myself and get focused on the case. I'd been thinking too much about the Boz Burnham from ten years ago.
"We know a lot about his past," I said, stepping up beside Bobby. "Maybe we should take a look at his present."
"Are you okay?" Bobby asked me quietly as we left the morgue.
"I'm fine," I answered quickly. Then I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
One sure way to kill a relationship was to keep everything locked inside…
"I'm just a little off my game today," I admitted. "Old memories aren't always good ones, you know?"
He hummed his agreement, but didn't comment.
"Is it okay if I come over tonight?" I asked him. I tried to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. I usually let him take the lead on making plans, but I really needed some time alone with him. Not working a case, I mean.
"I think you just broke a rule."
"What?"
"No making personal plans while we're on the clock," he said, and I chanced a look at him and saw that he had a small smile on his face. My relief was instantaneous and nearly overwhelming.
"Well, you broke one earlier," I replied.
"I did? Which one was that?"
"You held my hand," I told him, even though I knew that he knew exactly what I was talking about. He was being playful, and I loved it.
"Are you sure that was me?" he asked. And then he turned in his seat and put his hand over mine again. "Because that doesn't sound like something that I would do."
This time he didn't just cover my hand with his. This time he entwined his fingers through mine and then brought our hands to his lips.
I no longer had butterflies in my stomach, but it was fluttering all the same.
"We're done for the day, right?" he asked and his tone caused my skin to flush.
How on earth had I worked with him for so long and yet abstained from jumping him? It was a mystery.
"I think so," I said after flicking my eyes briefly to the clock on the dashboard.
"I'll let Ross know," he said. He shifted again so that he could use his phone without letting go of my hand. He quickly made the call while I drove to his apartment.
I parked the car in a garage across the street from his place. I got out and locked the doors, and then walked around the front of the vehicle. Bobby came to the front to meet me.
"I'm sorry this was a tough day for you," he said softly.
He put his hands on my waist and then immediately brought his lips down to mine.
The urgency in his kiss made me feel as though all day he'd thought of nothing else. I wondered what he had been thinking about. I'd been thinking about how badly I was messing up this relationship, but clearly he felt differently.
I cleared my mind of the myriad of nagging thoughts and instead focused only on how he was making me feel. Incredible. Exquisite. Beautiful. Sexy. And impatient.
"Let's go upstairs," I urged him when he pulled back momentarily. "I need you."
It was as close as I'd come to saying I love you.
Of course, he hadn't said the words to me either, but that was okay. It was too soon.
We'd get there. Hopefully.
Unless I screwed it up.
"Bobby, please," I insisted, not wanting to let my mind wander down the path it was headed. I didn't want to think about anything. I just wanted to feel.
And Bobby had a way of making me forget about everything else.
TBC...
