Title: The not-depressed, drug-free, happy home life, un-peer pressured Runaway
Warning: AU, teen runaway is mentioned.
Summary: When Eames was seventeen, she ran away.
Note: Ok, this has really been annoying me, is 'covers' spelled 'cover's' or 'covers'?

XxX

When Eames was seventeen, she ran away.

It wasn't because of some woefully inaccurate Lifetime movie/after school special reason; it wasn't because her heart was being broken or she was being abused. She wasn't peer pressured into doing it, her home life was as good as it could get, no drugs were involved and she wasn't depressed.

It didn't even that much sense to her, back then. Just one day after school, instead of taking the bus home, she went downtown. And while walking around, saw a payphone (the age before cell phones) and called home.

A few lies and Eames had the night free.

It would grow into two weeks.

But she didn't know that yet.

Eames got on another bus and another and another until nothing looked familiar. Then she walked and walked and walked (past the sun and into the rain, past the new and into the old, past the fake and into the gritty real) until her feet were in such pain it managed to make it through to her fogged mind. She stopped outside a teen shelter.

Stopped and stared at the brick building while the rain mingled with her tears until a voice called out to her.

"You don't get extra food the wetter you are." To the left a voice. It matched a kind woman's eyes and sleek nose, bigger bottom lip than top and red hair that curled in ways untouched by the rain. Eames immediately liked her.

"I'm not.." Trailed off, Eames wasn't homeless, but she didn't feel cared for either.

"No one is." The voice broke in, sliced Eames' muddled thoughts

"I.." It wasn't right to make this woman think she didn't have a family. A loving family that worried about her.

"Hungry? Tired? Need a place to rest?"

"Well..."

"Come inside. I'll get you some food." A quick step, movement of the leg and arm muscles- Eames was inside.

Warmth was the first thing that hit her- then the scent of comfort and finally noise. The woman's voice was soothing, sounding as if Eames was a cat who'd startle and jump out the window at a moment's notice. Led into a kitchen of sorts, quiet questions were asked about likes and allergies, Eames felt a catch in her throat and found herself unable to speak, just to point and nod. Give a quiet smile and murmured thanks. Even the tables here felt safe.

After all on her plate was consumed (had she really been that hungry?), the woman showed her to a locker to store her things in, some comfortable pajamas that had the scent on Pine and sent to bunk beds. As Eames settled into the covers she listened to the sound of even breathing and far off, the sounds of healing.

It took her three minutes to fall asleep.

XxX

The next day Eames wasn't so numb and after retrieving her clothes and bag, she went into search of a bathroom. She found them and learned that there was only one other who woke at 6:30 in the morning.

He seemed just as surprised to see her.

But that could have been because she caught him using the girl's bath room.

"Uh." Was his great response to their eyes meeting the mirror.

Hers was screaming.

Sitting across from him in Ms. Becky Landers (the redhead)'s office as she clutched her school bag and clothes, Eames listened to Becky explain what Bobby was doing in the woman's restroom at 6:34 in the morning.

And while Eames listened to Becky (everyone called her Ms. Landers but the name didn't fit the image, and she was permanently fixed to Becky in Eames' book) she imagined not screaming when her eyes had met his. To drop her things and walk over to him, to tilt the razor in his hand- to explain about pressure and how now he'd have a better angle cutting the hairs without marring his skin in the grip-Eames wondered why his father hadn't explained this to him.

But her thoughts broke when he apologized to her.

Voice hesitant, as if he was afraid she might scream again, eyes probing and pleading to ignore what had just occurred, body jumbled together in juxtaposed positions as if afraid they'd ignore his brain and go spiraling out of his control- the words weren't important, none ever are, but the intent, she forgave him immediately on the spot.

The words she was so used to using, to building up barriers with a fortification in sarcasm and silencing jokes, to distance herself in big words that made her sound arrogant or slang that made her seem approachable, it wouldn't come. She instead went for a smile.

It only sort of worked.

XxX

While Bobby returned to finish shaving, Becky explained the way things worked around here. Governmentally funded, it would be appreciated if she helped around here, but not mandatory. She had a bed here as long as she wanted it, but for funding reasons she needed to fill out a few forms. No real information had to be given, but dates and weights and reasons were important. She was expected to be at school during the day, and Becky offered two coffee places to hang around at, and the local library when asked. When all was said and done with, Becky said if Eames needed a bit of extra money, there was an extra job around here because a person had ended up on sick leave for the next two weeks.

Somehow, Eames had ended up working in the kitchen with Bobby. He had a place to stay, but needed food and money with a desperate kind of passion that a person acted with when they know that if they don't do like this, right now, they're going to fail and fall into the abyss.

Eames could understand that.

They worked in silence, slightly punctuated by the drop of a spoon or alarm that went off when something was done. Other workers came and went, checking something over, handing out plates to grab food before the masses came, but it didn't take long for Eames to realize that Bobby got lost in his work. Without much thought she took his untouched plate and gave him more then enough of everything. After all the platters of food had been set out for the masses Eames realized she could have just reminded him about the food.

But it was worth his look of absurd shock when she calmly set the plate in front of him as she sat down across.

Ten minutes into their silence,

"Why do I have twice the amount of green beans on my plate than anything else?" The question sounding almost rhetorical, so she didn't have to answer if she didn't want to.

"Green beans are a good source of Vitamin K."

"Isn't that, a factor in clotting blood?" A gentle smile brightened Eames face.

"Yes."

"Do I look.. anemic?"

"Could be from all the blood you've lost shaving." A bark of laughter as if the joke were so unexpected the owner of the noise had no choice but to laugh.

Eames hid a smile into her drink.

XxX

Their friendship progressed over brushed teeth and cooking, boundaries crossed late at night and over paychecks; Eames subtly and irrefutably gave him all her money gained from the kitchen. She didn't try to explain that she didn't need it. That she had a loving, caring family that would do anything to make sure she was cared for, and only by accident ignored her, so much was going on, really too much a family should take, until she left home just to be paid attention to.

Leaving her curiosity at home, Eames never asked Bobby what was so wrong at home he spent so long here. Why he ate with the kind of vigor with a person unaccustomed to food and ate meticulously, so that his plate was just as clean as before food had been set upon it. Eames spent a moment on her forth day here almost asking Becky about Bobby, but the words wouldn't come past, 'he seems to be here a lot.' and the woman just gave her a look like you two are puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together, once you've both been turned over to the laminated side.

Bobby was more openly curious about her. He slyly asked her hundreds of questions about her life, disguised so well it took her half way into explaining their Christmas Tradition of all the kids baking with such care and finesse so that their cookies would be the ones Santa would eat to realize what he'd done.

Finally Eames just got tired of not telling him the truth (why did she feel like he deserved to know?) and told him she ran away from home, didn't know why, and her family thought she at Outdoors School, so drop it.

He didn't.

The questions went at such full speed and ferocity that Eames felt what had been before was a trickle, and now she was stuck in a drain pipe.

The smile he gave her when she freely answered one of his thousand questions dried her off better then a towel hot off the dryer.

So she still didn't mind that much.

On day Nine of her self-imposed exile, Eames looked up at Bobby mid chew and after waiting a moment to swallow, asked him a question which was really more of a demand,

"Take me to your school."

'No' was the first answer she expected, stammering and eyes turned away and Eames feeling ashamed for asking came next, but instead,

"Ok."

And that was that. When dishes were cleared and the clock stroke 7:44, they were out the door and on the streets, walking and talking as two teenagers do while walking to school. A bus was taken and then used until the appropriate stop, Eames was surprised to see it was a public school.

Walking through the halls that so mirrored her own, they stopped at his locker and she saw a calendar in it.

Today was Tuesday.

She'd have to return home in five days.

A tremor shot through her that Bobby politely didn't notice.

The day continued as though it were her own. Science in the morning when she wasn't ready for it, she took copious notes (getting lost in the routine). Art was next, Eames drew birds soaring in the sky on Bobby's landscape, followed by Math, and being called to the board. The teacher had one of those great outlooks on life that were as follows; students are all the same, don't learn their names or life stories, just quiz 'em and prepare them for life, because it's gonna suck. Eames paid extra attention to the word problem as she answered it- and wished it was to show the teacher she wasn't some kid- but really it was for Bobby. English was boring and time passed slowly. Lunch was paid for by Bobby even after her protest, but the burrito and pop from Taco Bell across the street were greatly appreciated. Fifth period was the highest level of Japanese possible, and Eames spent much of that class lulled by Bobby's conversation spoken in a foreign language. Her favorite class was last, and had entirely to do with History. The first instinct she had about the class was that she was going to hate it. Walking through the door, Eames changed her mind.

The walls were decorated in paint, one side covered in cave drawings, another a timeline of Theodria (a queen of Byzantine that was known for being a great military, political and social consult to the king. She was also a stripper.) and several mountain ranges. Smack right in the middle of the room was the teacher's desk, and he was currently having a lively debate with his students about nose rings.

In this class, students fought to be in the seats at the front of the class.

Bobby made his way to a seat that seemed belonged to him, as all the other seats around his were taken.

This posed a bit of a problem.

Eames patiently stood beside him while he figured it out.

The teacher noticed before Bobby did.

Ripping his focus from the growing debate, the teacher slammed a ruler on his desk. It had the effect of quieting everyone and breaking in half. Apparently this was not a rare occurrence, since the teacher opened up a drawer and grabbed a new one.

"First order of business," His eyes rolled around the room and landed on Bobby's, "Who's your guest Goren?" It took Eames a few moments longer than necessary to realize he was referring to Bobby. When no answer was forthcoming, Eames spoke up,

"Friend." Jumped to her eyes, he smiled at her kindly, his eyes sparkling, putting Dumbledore to shame,

"Ah. Name, rank and serial number. Please."

"Eames, Junior, and cocoa puffs."

"Hmm, last name, how very X-Files of you. Well, Ms. Eames, you need a seat." A barely escaped 'yes' and his seat was being thrust to her, with a concerned smile she was told to sit on it, directly parallel to Goren's seat. A hidden wink from the teacher as she settled down.

"Ms. Eames, I assume Goren has not informed you of our most important class rule." A quick glance at Bobby,

"No."

"I will then enlighten you. Every week a student in this class must bring me some knowledge about life, the universe, and everything. It doesn't matter what subject it broaches, but must be factual and or true." A moments pause, then,

"The scientific term for llama is llama glama." Not even a cracked smile,

"Hmm, very interesting." And thusly the class began.

Seven minutes passed into the class period and Eames felt unreasonably jealous of Bobby as she hastily scribbled down notes.

XxX

The pattern continued; get up, work, catch the bus, go to class, eat at Taco Bell, enjoy sixth period with such vigor that you joke and argue with the teacher loud enough for the teacher next door to come in and complain. But it was a wasted effort and when the door closed, a ruler was thrown at it. Walk back, do homework (if Eames felt like it, for Bobby it was mandatory), cook in the kitchen, stay up late talking, go to bed. Rinse and repeat.

Only Friday afternoon, they didn't go back and work on homework. They went to his house. It wasn't planned, but happened as they turned a wrong corner and ended up at a house. At his house.

It had the look of pleasant but a bit run down, like an attempt had been made on it but it was too small and too late. The inside was furnished sparely, like the furniture has been sold over the years to make ends meet. The TV was turned on, and Bobby quickly moved over to shut it off. Eames followed him down a hallway in which it was apparent another male lived there, and into a room that reeked of him- the placement of his bed, the computer, closet and dresser, even his window covers, that despite how poor it looked, Eames smiled. Grinned like an idiot and thought that this room had more class than The White House.

She turned to look at him, to convey this, to silence that apprehensive look in his eye when instead, she kissed him.

Dropped her backpack and standing on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his frame and kept her mouth away from his for a full ten seconds before crashing against him. Crashing and pushing and braking and building up, exploring - him, his mouth, his clothes, his skin, the feel of his bed, to know him, to -oh god- to know him and lay beside him, hours passing in minutes- it was the first time Eames spent the night with someone.

And hoped with ruthless abandon he would be her last.

Spending the whole night and morning in bed with him, they both knew she was going back home.

Putting it off; they brushed their teeth together, made breakfast together, made the bed and then rumpled it up together, walked hand in hand to the bus station, kissed passionately at the bus stop that would put romance movies to shame, and returned home, separately.

XxX

When Eames returned home, her family enthusiastically hugged her and asked why she was home a day early, speaking through her mother's hug, she'd mumbled homesickness, and didn't try to explain she meant with Bobby.

Lying in bed, alone, Eames felt a moment of guilt that she didn't say anything to Becky, that she wasn't with Bobby right now, that she didn't give him her number, but with him, it was their world, their fantasy world, who wants to deal with something as contrived as telephones?

Her years rolled along, and the brilliant boy she spent two weeks falling in love with settled to the back of her mind, with green beans and puzzle pieces.

She joined the police force, became a detective, married and was widowed, rose through the ranks and got the call of a lifetime- transferred to Major Case. There was a catch though, paired with the unstable unorthodox unusable detective Robert Goren.

A subtle deja vu that disappeared when the speaker started talking about unionization and tax write-offs.

Meeting the man she was to be paired with so sharply reminded Eames of Bobby that she found herself using that nickname, and frightened herself more then any quirks with Bobby Goren could come up with.

So she took the cowardly way out and put in for a transfer.

It took her two days to revoke it.

They were eating out at somewhere, fancy but affordable, and Eames was mostly concerned with the ordering decaffeinated coffee or no when she looked up at Goren's words.

"And, extra green beans, please." Completely forgetting what she was going to order, Eames stared into the man who was her Bobby.

"Ma'am?" The waiter was staring, willing and waiting for Eames' order, but all she could do was stare at the man she'd fallen in love with at seventeen. Goren ordered for her, and with a certain look on his face. Like he'd known who she was all along. Known and said nothing.

"You know." A certain kind of code he was privy to.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say something?" He opened his mouth, closed it, tapped a tune on the table, tried again,

"I was afraid if I said something.. you wouldn't remember me." A shrug, as if not to pay such close attention to the words,

"How could I- you're my puzzle piece." In another time she would mock such corny words.

Their drinks came, trying to remind them of reality, they ignored it.

"Puzzle piece?" A conversation he wasn't around to hear.

"We fit." His mouth formed what would make the word 'oh' but no sound emitted, as Eames was currently kissing him.

Bobby decided words were overrated anyway, and swept her from the table to standing position.

They grabbed their food to go and ate in bed.

The next day Eames taught Bobby the correct way to shave. And when she caught his eye in the mirror she winked.

END.

Note: So I've pegged the setting for this during when Eames' aunt was staying over and demanded so much of the families attention that Eames was unfortunately ignored. She ran away initially for attention but when she met Bobby she decided to stay and get to know him. They got to know each other.

P.S. I haven't flossed today.