A/N: Sequel to 'Found'.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no infringement intended.
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Lost
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It was less of a break up, and more of a tying up of loose ends.
Alex sat with Bobby, waiting to give evidence. They saw Carver come around the corner, they saw Carver bend his head to speak to an elegant blonde, they saw Carver smile in a way that made his face go soft all round the edges.
And they knew. They both knew.
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He refused a shot of tequila, but she hadn't offered him one anyway. He was still wearing his suit and his hands clasped in front of him, behind his back, and in front of him again. Nervous.
He explained.
She understood.
When he said goodbye at the door she knew it would have ended anyway, because she could say Ron. Goodbye Ron. It was raining outside, and she watched him cross the street from her window, his hat pulled low and his shoulders hunched.
He didn't see the man under the streetlight, but she did.
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Bobby watched for longer than her, and she let him. He watched until he had to lean forward and crane his neck to see them go. And then he looked at her. Waiting. Assessing.
Damage control.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked.
He dropped his gaze. He picked up her hand.
"I'm sorry," he said.
She took her hand away from him, but when she pictured Carver and the blonde, she was not entirely angry.
Somebody deserved happiness.
"Yeah. I'm sorry too," she said, but it was not for the same reasons he was.
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When Bobby came to the door he had no tie, no suit jacket and no words. He was shivering with cold, and opened his mouth to say something several times but nothing came.
Alex let him in, because she'd already poured him a shot.
"I wanted… to tell him… all the things I should have said," Bobby finally said, his teeth chattering, "I wanted to… tell him not to lose you."
Like I did.
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He was sitting on her doorstep waiting for her, and he took the grocery bags from her arms and asked if they could try again. She told him he'd lost his chance, and to forget it had ever happened.
For the sake of their partnership.
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Alex steered him to stand in front of the radiator, and he slugged tequila from the bottle as she unbuttoned his shirt.
It smashed on the floor when she unbuttoned his pants.
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Bobby gave evidence, and then her, and cross wasn't so bad because it was really SVU's case anyway. They walked back to the car and sat in silence with the engine off for a long time.
"Want a margarita?" he asked, "My shout."
It began to rain, and she knew it wouldn't stop all night, maybe not ever.
"He's an asshole," Bobby said.
She started the engine, because he didn't understand. She wasn't sad for what she'd lost, but for what she'd broken.
She was going to go home, and wait for Carver to come.
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She whispered his name, again and again and again, like she was sharing her secret with the sheets. Bobby's skin was damp but she let him wrap himself around her anyway.
They broke protocol in the midnight of her bedroom with the wind beating at the windows.
His skin was warmer than she'd imagined, his sorrow greater, and there was desperation in the way he held her closely, tightly. He pressed himself against her, inside of her, like he needed to tattoo himself against her skin.
She tried tasting tequila in his kisses, but there was only rain.
--fin.