Ice Skating Pairs Division

Goren's favorite Olympic sport was by far the figure skating. He loved the choreography, the complexity of two people acting as one. Rarely seen, outside of the bedroom of course. But then that would never be an Olympic sport unless the FCC finally died.

But he was tired, so tired, tonight that his mind found itself slowly unraveling toward sleep, his dreams and the images on the screen fighting for his attention. He thought of Alexandra, whom he could never really call his. So many years. . .

Slowly, he lets his partner dip down at the end of his arm, holding her with an iron grip, never letting go (You should call her, Bishop says as he looks at her awkwardly, as his focus is on his partner's miracle.) They are skating side by side, so close he could cut her with his blades, or she him, but the magic is, neither do. (I am an acquired taste). He holds her close, pressing her to his body as he prepares to let her go (I pity the fool, Eames says with a grim smirk). He twirls her above his head, holding his breath until she returns safely to him (She shakes her head as he does a dance of joy around her. He's half ashamed to be doing this with a widow on the other side of the door.)

Suddenly, they trip, fall, are out of synch for a second (It's too late. . . You could have fooled me, Detective). Then, thankfully, the pair are back in synch, and the world is good again for them both. (Batman was a vigilante, he says, wondering about her secretive grin. . . her grin, again, at his simple magic tricks. Oh, the joy of that smile)

The duo returns to a standstill, their faces somber, still, now it is time to be judged (My detectives . . . My good detectives. . . )
Robert Goren fell asleep.