A/N: don't own don't sue
Lyrics at the beginning are from 'Near Life Experience' by Lifehouse
Smoke and Mirrors
Chapter One
If I showed my hand shaking like a leaf
You might not understand, but I bet you'd believe
This bat is inside, crawling around
The cobwebs in my mind that I try to drown out
You said I look like a ghost, man I almost was
You said I need to let go, quit chasing that buzz
That picture in time, frozen like ice
That girls keep repeating, beating me down to size
Well maybe I'm blind, just throwing darts in the dark
I didn't get what I want, I got what I need
Man, it hurts like hell down here on my knees
Is this where I end, or is this where we begin?
The night is my friend, I blend in with the best
The vampires, the crooks, the felons and the rest
Now we can pretend that we really care less
And act like we love what we really detest
Well maybe I'm blind, just throwing darts in the dark
I didn't get what I want, I got what I need
Man it hurts like hell down here on my knees
Is this where I end, or is this where we begin?
Make this go away, I'm begging please
There's little life left here for me to bleed
Is this where I end, or is this where we begin?
I'm looking up but I'm feeling down
Since I'm cutting these corners, was cutting me down to size
Am I losing control or losing my mind?
I know for a fact I'm losing my last place to hide
Well maybe I'm blind, just throwing darts in the dark
I didn't get what I want, I got what I need
Man it hurts like hell down here on my knees
Is this where I end, or is this where we begin?
My pulse is racing, I can't catch my breath
This near-life experience scared me to death
Is this where I end, or is this where we begin?
Or is this where we begin?
Between cases was when Goren got restless. The brief rush he gained solving a complicated case had already faded to a dull hum at the base of his spine and now he was on edge again. Eames was working her way down a huge pile of reports at her desk. Goren should have been doing his own paperwork. Instead he got to his feet and pulled on his jacket. Eames looked up questioningly, brushing her hair behind her ear absently.
"Just going for a coffee."
He sidled out of the building before anyone could corner him, escaping into the chilly damp winter air. His favourite coffee shop was a couple of blocks over and he took the walk slowly, his hazel eyes taking everything in. Passing a brightly lit gym window, he paused. There was a self defence class in progress. Rows and rows of people executing the same sequence of moves to the thumping music he could just discern through the noise of the street behind him. He ran his gaze over them. The slightly overweight men, bright red in the face with dark patches of sweat on their t-shirts. The lithe young girls in clinging spandex admiring their reflections in the mirrored wall, ensuring they didn't sweat too much in front of the attractive blond instructor with a toothy white smile of encouragement he kept flashing around. The shyer girls hovered in the middle of the class, away from the window and the mirrors on either side of them, trying not to look at their reflections as they followed the movements. Goren's eye was caught by a very pretty girl in short grey shorts and a matching vest top. Sweat ringed her arms and trailed down her spine. Her long dark red hair was pulled back in a slightly curled ponytail. Her fierce green eyes were focused entirely on her reflection but, unlike the vain girls who admired their bronzed limbs and the curve of their buttocks as they kicked, she was watching her movements mirrored back at her. Her hawk eyes scrutinised as she punched, rotated and kicked. Her plump pink lips were pursed with concentration. She moved like a ballet dancer, effortlessly, sinuously, one move flowing smoothly into the next as though she really was dancing rather than knocking the hell out of an imaginary attacker.
Goren gave her his usual once over. Her vest and shorts were simple but her gym shoes looked expensive. Her arms and legs were both long and willowy, glowing pearly white under the harsh fluorescent floodlights but the smattering of freckles on her bare shoulders indicated she'd been in the sun recently. She had tiny studs in her ears and a silver necklace that disappeared under the fabric of her vest. As her row moved a few steps to the side, Goren glimpsed himself reflected in the mirrored wall. He looked exhausted… and bloody old. It had been a very difficult case.
He took a last look at the girl, it was the way she concentrated so hard on her own efforts that intrigued him, and moved on towards the coffee shop. He ordered his coffee from a bored looking teenaged girl who looked him up and down but evidently decided he wouldn't annoy her parents enough to bother with. As he waited he glanced around the small warm steamy room. As he always did, he found himself watching the other customers. A harassed-looking man a few years older than he was and a pretty young girl were sitting near the back. The girl looked ready to burst into tears and he was looking anywhere but at her, his body language rigid in the over-stuffed armchair and his rather small eyes darting behind his glasses. A girl in her twenties was typing rapidly at her laptop, a pile of paper not unlike the paperwork awaiting him back at the office was at her elbow.
She paused in her typing, looking thoughtful. She smiled at him coyly when she caught him looking at her. She had lovely warm eyes. He nodded and turned away. Being late, his coffee was ready much quicker than usual and he was soon out in the cold again. As he passed the gym a sudden surge of people indicated a class had ended. Stumbling almost immediately into the girl he'd watched earlier, he discovered which class it was.
"Sorry." He tightened his grip on his coffee before it spilled over the pair of them.
"You haven't done anything." She commented in amusement, leaning back to peer up at him.
"Well I saw the class in there, I like my kidneys where they are." He pointed out drily.
She stared at him for a moment and then a smile curled her lower lip. Being so close to her, he could now see that everything seemed to curve upwards. Her long eyelashes almost touched her eyelids and the tip of her freckled nose turned upwards. Her luscious lower lip pulled up at the corners softened a thinner upper lip. Her fern-green eyes were studying him in amusement. Like most of the girls surging past them, she had showered to get rid of the sweat. Her hair was slicked straight back, emphasising her high cheekbones and dripping water steadily down her back. She must have been freezing in the cold winter air.
She, in turn, was studying him just as intently. He was very attractive, she decided. An entire head taller than her, with very broad shoulders. He had a head of ruffled black curls peppered with grey and intent eyes. They were a honey-almond colour in the light cast from the gym besides them.
"Robert Goren."
She shook his hand. She kept him hanging for a moment. He cocked his head to the side and watched her.
"Angel Baudelaire."
They both knew she was lying. His dark eyebrows lifted but she met his gaze head on, she showed none of the indicators he was used to spotting in liars. Which meant she was either a very good liar, or she was telling the truth. He had his doubts about the latter.
"Interesting name." He said pointedly.
She didn't reply, just looked straight back at him with a slight smile playing on her lips.
"It's a preference." Her eyes narrowed wickedly. "Robert." She purred until the syllables rolled off her tongue like honey.
There was a distant rumbling. The sky was darkening ominously and the temperature had plummeted even more. She pulled her gym bag further up her shoulder and took a few steps backwards.
"Maybe I'll see you around, Detective."
Her voice was lilting and teasing again. She took another step back.
"How did you know—"
He didn't seem impressed or suspicious, just curious. She stopped her retreat for a moment.
"You walk and talk 'cop'." She teased, emerging back into the light of the gym window. "The Detective part was a guess though."
He watched her as she left, admiring the loping walk. She looked like a dancer again.
He'd just made it back to the office when the sky split open. Seeing the mountain of paperwork still waiting for him, he grabbed his phone.
"Hey Cecilia, can you do me a favour? Can you run the name Angel Baudelaire through the system for me?"
"That must have been one hell of a coffee." Eames said pointedly. He cocked his head. "You're all pink. Can't stop grinning either."
He shrugged in that expressive way Eames was used to by now but didn't reply.
It was a few days until Cecilia got back to him about Angel. It was almost difficult for him to admit, even to himself, how much he'd thought about her since their meeting. She was so intriguing, so puzzling.
"Hey Goren." Cecilia's chirpy voice drove a lot of the senior detectives nuts, even when she was relaying some gruesome detail that might break their case it irritated them. "This Angel chick, she's a babe."
"She's got a record?"
Goren digested the possibility. He rarely found normal people as fascinating as the criminals he met every day. If she was a criminal, that would explain why he'd found her so interesting.
"Not that I can find. Couple of parking tickets that's all. Pretty hot car she was in too." Cecilia babbled happily, thoroughly overexcited at the prospect of a Goren-centred mystery.
"Can you send me the file? Thanks, Cecilia."
"Don't you want her address?" Cecilia asked excitedly.
Goren considered it, but that was just this side of stalking.
When the file arrived he was disappointed. There was nothing in it but the parking tickets Cecilia had mentioned. His phone rang as he was shoving the file in his drawer.
"Hello, Detective."
The purring voice made his toes curl. He could feel heat spreading under his collar as she chuckled.
"How did you get this number?"
Eames had just wandered in with a bleary eyed early-morning look on her face and a tray of coffees. Goren nodded at her and accepted his coffee. Eames, with her usual sharp eye, could tell something was up. She gave him his privacy but he saw the glances she kept throwing his way.
"Oh Robert." That husky almost mocking voice cut straight through the first thing in the morning bustle surrounding him. "I have so many talents you don't know about yet."
Before he knew what he was doing, her gentle persuasive voice had managed to get him to agree to meet her for a drink that night.
"I'll be working, but I can squeeze you in." She made it sound infinitely promising and Goren felt a bead of sweat trickling down his spine.
Eames was openly staring at him when he hung up. They'd been partners for so long now, they knew each other's patterns. Goren carefully collected all of his thoughts and arranged them before saying anything but Eames could never keep it in, she let her thoughts and theories pour out as she worked through them. Goren waited and sure enough;
"Good call?"
Goren was excellent at controlling his features, masking all of his emotions if need be. He knew he hadn't given anything away while he was on the phone, but Eames knew him too well.
"A friend." He was also a master at evasive techniques.
Being completely professional, Goren managed to push all thoughts of Angel out of his mind as he filled in paperwork, spoke to a couple of witnesses in a case that was just about to go to court and followed up a few leads on a cold case of his. As he said goodbye to Eames, however, he felt something like anxiety flickering in his chest. Eames peered at him in amazement as he left, unused to him leaving before she did.
The bar where he'd arranged to meet Angel was a very expensive, very swanky hotel. He paused on the threshold, wondering what she'd meant about having to work. Surely not. A prostitute was hardly likely to invite a policeman to arrest her.
"You're making the place look untidy, Detective."
He could feel her behind him like a live flame. He turned with a smile and stared at her. Her silky red locks had been transformed into a halo of blonde bubble-curls. The short pixie cut exposed her long slender neck. A pendent hung around her throat, what seemed to be a sword made of one flawless crystal which matched the drops at her ears. It dangled enticingly just above the barest hint of cleavage swelling out of her purple velvet dress. Her lips had been painted the faintest coral with a hint of gold. In her matching purple heels she was almost as tall as he was.
"Don't worry, I'm only blonde for the night." She laughed, tilting her head back so the curls caught the light.
She offered no other explanation, stepping around him and leading him into the dimly lit bar. With purpose she headed for a table in the corner. They could see the whole room from there as they slid onto the corner sofa. She ordered a glass of wine and he ordered a scotch, needing something to steady his strangely twitchy nerves.
"I didn't think you'd come." She said after they'd been given their drinks.
Goren found he didn't need the scotch as much as he'd thought he did. He took a small sip. She hadn't touched her wine.
"Didn't you?" He asked doubtfully, a teasing glint in his eye.
She looked pensive for a moment, running her fingertips along the stem of her glass. Her nails were purple too. Then her face split into the sexy smile again and her eyes sparkled in the light from the lamp above them.
"No. I knew you'd come."
There was no arrogance in her voice. He'd been out with those kinds of women, the pretty ones who were only attracted to him because of the job. They had a certain way of speaking. They knew they were beautiful and that men wanted them, knew they could get a man to do almost anything. It was in their every movement, their voices were laced with it. When Angel spoke, however, the confidence didn't stem from arrogance but from absolute certainty that she knew herself and her attractiveness well enough without needing to flaunt it.
"There's something about me, isn't there?"
He nodded but neither of them elaborated. He was intrigued at how attracted he was to her. It wasn't just her beauty, although he was very aware of that at the moment. They were sitting at right angles, his long legs taking up his entire half of the round table. He could see the elegant length of her back, her curves in the skin-tight dress and her long bare legs.
"There's something about you." She went on in her husky musical voice.
She peered at him from under her lashes. He could feel fire spreading through him. It had been a long time since anyone had affected him like this. He took a gulp of scotch.
"You're very still."
She was looking around the room, her vivid green eyes intent. He scanned her profile. Technically he'd seen, and dated, more beautiful women. But he'd never met anyone who exuded so much sexiness. It was the way she presented herself, take it or leave it. If he got up and left right now, she'd probably show nothing but a little amusement, maybe some curiosity. He wondered what she'd do if he kissed her. He read people, that's what he did and what he was good at. He couldn't get a bead on her at all. She didn't seem the type to play mind games.
"Are you always this still?"
The way she looked at him so suddenly made a flush begin to creep over his cheeks. She gave him a long lingering glance that nailed him to the spot.
"Never." He said after another sip of his drink, trying to figure out where his usual poise had gone. "In interrogations I rarely stand still."
She'd been watching something across the room but a smirk creased her lips again.
"You're like a pool of water, perfectly calm and smooth on the surface with no indication of what's underneath." She cocked her head to the side in an almost perfect imitation of his own little quirk. "Or maybe you're more like a deer in the headlights. What do you think I'm going to do to you?"
For a brief moment he contemplated kissing her and he was so jolted by the unexpected urge, he downed the rest of his scotch. Angel excused herself and disappeared across the room. Goren tried to cling onto some semblance of normality by doing what he did best. He studied the occupants of the bar. They were mainly glamorous women of all ages, done up in expensive dresses and dripping jewels. The men wore expensively cut suits and gold jewellery and they laughed loudly amongst themselves.
When Angel returned a long while later, Goren was absurdly pleased to see she'd redone her make up. He must pull himself together. Anyone would think he'd never met a woman before. He was actually quite good with them usually but this one threw him for a loop.
"Are you going to tell me your real name?" He asked once she'd sat back down, wafting a spicy citrus perfume.
"Does it matter, Robert?"
"No one calls me Robert." Goren told her idly. "Bobby or Goren. Never Robert."
She reached out a fingertip and trailed it along his cheekbone, down his nose and touched the corner of his lips. It wasn't an invitation, more an investigatory touch but Goren had never been more attuned to anybody in his life.
"You don't look like a Bobby. Bobbys are serious." She pulled her face into an exaggeratedly serious expression.
Even with her lips in a rather gruesome frown and her brows pulled low over her narrowed eyes, she was intensely seductive. Bobby grinned, first at the ridiculous look on her face, and then he chuckled at what she'd said. People had accused him of being a lot of things over the years, not being serious definitely wasn't one of them. She leaned back with a satisfied look on her face.
"I like it when you smile."
They fell into silence again, companionable silence. Angel had the feeling that there was a lot of silence around Goren. He hadn't changed out of his work suit. Stubble was beginning to darken his jaw-line. She was very attracted to him. She knew he was attracted to her. She'd contemplated taking him to bed tonight but she had work to do, and she didn't think Goren was the quickie type. She shivered, excited at the thought.
"Angelica." She suddenly said, watching his expressionless face for a reaction. "My name." She leaned in so closely she could smell the distinct scent he carried, a heady mix of Old Spice, coffee and a distinct undertone that must have been all Goren. "I'm afraid I can't divulge my real surname." She leaned in even closer. "Can't have you looking me up. I'd lose all my mystery."
She could have kissed him, he turned towards her but there was no expectation in his eyes. Most men would have been slavering at her being this close to them, her velvet bosom was barely a centimetre from his jacketed arm and she knew he could smell the grapefruit and papaya shampoo she'd used earlier. He returned her enquiring gaze with nothing but cool amusement in his eyes. They were dark in the dim lighting.
"This could get very complicated." She sighed, leaning back in her seat.
Goren returned home that night even more intrigued with Angel. Angelica. She hadn't revealed what work she'd been doing at the hotel, but they hadn't run out of things to talk about. When she wasn't gazing at him with a goading look in her emerald green eyes, almost willing him to pounce on her as she knew he wanted to, they'd discussed mainly her. Goren had never met anyone who had such an uncanny ability to tell so many things about themselves without really revealing anything. He knew her taste in films, mainly horror; books, mainly fantasy, historical fiction and Harry Potter of course; theatre, musicals. She hated cooking. She played the violin. She was fully trained in three different martial arts. She spoke eleven languages.
Goren's talent for extricating information was almost equalled by hers, often throughout the night he found himself revealing something personal without even realising. When he'd called her on it she'd given him that sultry look from under her eyelashes again. She'd pointed out that it wasn't revealing himself that was bugging him, merely the fact that she could get him to reveal so much. He'd been rattled by how easily she could read him, as if she could see straight down into his centre. Afterwards he'd realised that she'd deflected him yet again. It had been almost like an interrogation, the push and pull of offering information to retrieve information but with an added frisson of their attraction sizzling underneath the whole time.
Strangely enough the longer it had gone on, the more attracted he had become. It was like suddenly finding yourself playing chess with a master after months of playing with amateurs. His blood had woken up and, as he poured himself a coffee to counteract the scotches, his mind was thrumming. He'd never met anyone like her.
He stripped out of his suit and jumped into the shower, letting the hot water needle his tired skin. He still didn't know anything about her. As he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, he realised that he didn't know how to get in contact with her again. When they'd left she'd flagged down a cab right outside the hotel, she'd pressed her lips briefly against his cheek and vanished.
As Goren checked his alarm and clambered into bed, he decided he'd track her down tomorrow. After all, she could be a lunatic or anything. A very attractive lunatic.