Author's
note: I do not own any Law and Order Criminal Intent characters, nor
do I own any characters from Law and Order who might show up. Dick
Wolf, of course, owns them and has done quite well by them. I
do own the other characters in this story: Annie, the children,
Grandpa, and various other people (named and unnamed). They inhabit
my imagination where they live out their lives trying to fit into the
LOCI universe. This story goes back into the past and plays the "what
if" game. What if Bobby was married and had a family? So here is
a warning: There will be some necessary changes to canon in order to
fit Annie and the kids into Bobby's life, creating a parallel LOCI
universe. If you are not OK with that, you won't like this story (or
any future installments) and I completely understand if you pass.
This
story takes place throughout season 2. Chapter one is refers to the
episode "Bright Boy."
REBUILDING
Chapter 1
"Yay, Andrew! Good hit!"
Annie Paine clapped her hands as her five year-old son dropped the bat and ran to first base. This was the third Tee Ball game for Phillip and Andrew. She looked across the park and saw her husband, Bobby Goren, approaching. His partner, Alex Eames, was with him. They were detectives with the Major Case Squad with the NYPD.
Eight year old Ally caught sight of her father and ran to throw herself into his arms. Annie smiled and scooted over to make room for them in the bleachers. Bobby leaned over and kissed her as he sat down.
"You made it! The boys will be so excited! So, where does Captain Deakins think his two ace detectives are on this fine, sunny afternoon?"
Bobby chuckled, "We just interviewed a witness. The park is on the way back to One PP. So, what's the score?"
Annie laughed and answered, "You know very well that there is no score in Tee Ball. It's a skill-building, learning experience. You are going to have to wait a few years until they are old enough for Little League to do your 'competitive sports dad' routine. This is the second inning and Andrew just batted. Phillip will be up soon." She leaned forward so she could see Alex better and said, "Hi Alex. Sorry Bobby dragged you out here."
"He didn't have to drag me. I love seeing the kids play. You aren't playing today, Ally?"
"No, I'm in the Minor League. We have practice tomorrow and a game on Saturday."
They all cheered and clapped as Andrew trotted home, and again as Phillip hit the ball off the tee. Both boys saw their father and yelled and waved to him. When the game ended, Bobby and Ally went out to the field to tell them how well they had done. Alex and Annie sat in the bleachers watching Bobby with the kids.
"The twins look like little clones of their father," Alex observed. Annie laughed and agreed. After the boys got their juice and snack, they went over for a hug from Aunt Alex. Bobby and Alex said they had played hooky long enough and had to get back to work before the captain started looking for them.
Annie watched them walk away and then watched for a few minutes as all three of her children ran around with abandon, playing tag. It was hard to tell who was "it", and ultimately it didn't matter as the real purpose was simply running and screaming. She breathed in the scent of spring; sunshine, freshly-mown grass, and flowers in bloom. Everything seemed new and fresh in the spring, and especially this spring. As New York struggled to recover from the attacks of September 11, her family was also recovering from the attack on Annie almost a year ago that had killed the baby she was carrying and nearly killed her as well. She once again whispered a prayer of gratitude that her city and her family were finding some semblance of normalcy following the very traumatic events of the last year.
That night Bobby and Annie prepared dinner while the kids played upstairs. They often talked about their work, especially when something funny happened or when one of them had a hard day. Annie never revealed the names or identities of patients, but would describe interesting cases or procedures. Bobby would talk about cases he was working on, but rarely gave her very many details on open cases. When Annie read the newspaper, she would try to guess what crimes had been assigned to the Major Case Squad. After two years she was getting pretty good at it.
Bobby and Alex were investigating the murder of the deputy mayorand a social worker, which had led them to a college with a program for children with genius-level IQ. Bobby was describing a teenager they had talked to.
"I wish you could see this kid, Annie. He's around 14 or 15, and really into the rebellious stage. His hair is spiked and he's got all these piercings. All he wants to do is play his guitar. He says hot babes like musicians, not math geeks. And he said that math chicks don't look like Jennifer Connelly."
Annie turned to him and said, "Hey, I think I'm insulted. I was a math chick." She sighed and said, "But it is true; I don't look like Jennifer Connelly."
Bobby chuckled and leaned down to kiss her neck. "I wanted to tell him that my wife is a math chick and a hot babe!"
"Nice save, Detective," she giggled.
"He told us he wants off the 'baby-genius' track. He said he and the other 'baby-geniuses' had been together in math camp since they came out of the test tube."
He laughed at the memory and Annie laughed with him.
"His mother was embarrassed," he continued. "She made sure we knew he wasn't a test tube baby. She seems exasperated, but tolerant with him. She let him drop out of the program to pursue his music. That's got to be good, don't you think? It seems like he has a good support system, loving family. I think he'll be OK."
She agreed that it seemed like this young genius would be alright and find his way in life. His concern for the boy was another reminder of the unhappy childhood her husband had endured. While not a genius, he was certainly highly intelligent and had a curiosity that drove him to study and research a wide variety of subjects. As a child his mother had introduced him to a love of reading and books, one of the few positive memories he had.
Both brothers were intelligent. But being the oldest, their parents had higher expectations for Frank. If either of his parents were aware of Bobby's intelligence, they didn't acknowledge it. He was never pushed academically, as his brother was. Mostly he was simply ignored. His father was too wrapped in his gambling and womanizing to be concerned. His mother's mental illness had kept her from being active in much of Bobby's childhood, especially his education. During her "good" periods, Frances was usually more concerned with how well Frank was doing in school and William Goren pushed Frank to do well and "make something of himself".
Bobby cleared his throat and said, "I, uh, talked to Frank today. I invited him for dinner Saturday night. Is that OK?"
"Oh goody, an evening with Frank. I can't wait," she said sarcastically. Then she instantly regretted it as she saw the hurt look on his face. He looked down at the floor.
"I'm sorry. I know I should have checked with you first, but we were talking, and….I….well, it's been a long time since we got together."
She went and put her arms around his waist. "Oh Babe, don't apologize. I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. Frank and I just don't 'gel', but you know your brother is always welcome here. The kids will be thrilled to see Uncle Frank. Want me to make your mother's meatloaf?"
He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you. I know Frank's not your favorite person and I appreciate how hard you try. Meatloaf will be perfect; it was Frank's favorite when we were kids."
"Well, even with your mother's recipe I doubt that it will be as good as hers."
He chuckled. "Your meatloaf is great. And Frank will be grateful just to have a home cooked meal."
She almost told him that it was unlikely Frank would be grateful for anything coming from her, but she caught herself in time and kept quiet.
After dinner there were baths to complete, homework to check, the bedtime story, and prayers. Bobby spent some time with each of the kids, beyond the assigned homework they had completed, going over flash cards with them; math for Ally and reading words for the twins. All three of them were ahead of their grade level in math and reading because of the extra "tutoring". Sometimes, instead of flash cards, he would explain to them about something he had read in "The Smithsonian" or another magazine. He talked to them about art, showing them pictures of famous paintings. Or about music, playing classical pieces for them. He made it a game for them and they looked forward to their time alone with their father. They were disappointed on the nights that Bobby had to work late.
After the kids were settled in bed, Bobby and Annie relaxed on the couch, reading. He was lying with his head in her lap and she idly ran her fingers through his hair as she read.
"We saw another boy today," Bobby said softly.
Annie marked her place in her book and laid it down. This was not going to be another funny story. She could tell from the tone of his voice and the fact that he waited until the kids were in bed to bring this up that he was bothered by something. This was how he talked out feelings about cases that bothered him and sometimes brought up personal issues for him. Such as the day that an investigation had led them to a crematorium owner who was crudely burying bodies on his property rather than cremating them. The sight and smell of all those bodies had brought back memories for Bobby of working in the temporary morgue on September 11. She played with his dark curls and waited.
"There was a younger boy, ten years old. He really is a genius; he graduated from high school when he was seven. But he's been home-schooled by his father for almost his whole life. This college program is really the first time he's been in a real school."
Annie said, "Well, home-schooling can be a good thing for kids. I know a few families that home-school and the kids are bright, ahead of their grade level, and well-adjusted. They get together with other home-schoolers for field trips and social activities."
"Yeah, but I get the impression that this dad isn't the 'get together' type. I think it's just been the boy and his father until now. I don't think he's ever socialized with kids his own age. I asked to see his room so I could talk to him alone. This kid loves baseball, said it's the thinking man's game. He told me everyone who managed the Yankees in the '80s. But he hides his baseball equipment from his father. He told me that his father says baseball has 'no added value' to his education. He just has this aura of sadness around him and his father doesn't seem to know. Or he doesn't care, as long as he's fulfilling his 'genius potential'."
"You can't save them all, Babe," Annie said softly.
"I know. It's just that he is so young." Bobby sighed. He reached up to take hold of her hand that was playing with his hair and kissed her palm. "You have to work tomorrow. Are you ready for bed?"
They went up to bed and Bobby held her until she dozed off. But she felt him get up, as he often did after she was asleep, so he could go down to his office in the basement to read and study criminal profiles.
On Saturday night Annie made a meatloaf from her mother-in-law's recipe. The children were excited that Uncle Frank was coming for dinner and Annie tried to be excited for them. She and Frank had never liked one another very much, but they had an unspoken truce when the children were around. When Frank arrived, Annie was in the kitchen. She heard his voice and the children's squeals of delight with the presents he brought them. She stood in the doorway and watched before going in to greet him.
It amazed her that these two men could have come from the same set of parents. Bobby was disciplined, ethical, and empathetic. Frank had a typical addict's personality, was always looking for a quick and easy way to support himself and his habits, and cared little for anyone's needs but his own. She was glad to see that he seemed to be clean and sober; he must be in a program. Frank had predictable cycles of sobriety, then he would gradually become involved with gambling, which would lead to drinking, and finally to drugs. He had been homeless several times in the ten years she and Bobby had been married. With their father dead and their mother in a psychiatric facility, the job of rescuing Frank had fallen to Bobby. There were times that they lost contact with him for months but once Bobby found him he would bring him home to get cleaned up, pay for a room for him to stay in for several months, take him to meetings, and help him find work. They had discussed many times whether they were helping or enabling Frank.
Annie put a smile on her face and went to tell Frank hello. She almost enjoyed his visits when he was sober. He was intelligent, funny, and entertaining. Tonight was no exception. He told stories that kept the children laughing. He and Bobby talked about some of the few good memories they had of growing up. After dinner she shooed everyone into the living room and cleaned the kitchen by herself. Then she took the children upstairs to take their baths and let the brothers have some time alone. After their baths, Bobby came up to read to Ally while Annie read to Phillip and Andrew.
When she finished reading to the boys, she realized that Frank was standing in the doorway watching the three of them. The boys demanded he come in and kiss them goodnight. She and Frank left the bedroom and stood for a moment outside Ally's room where they could hear Bobby's soft, low voice reading to her.
"Yes, at the very bottom of my soul I feel grateful to all my misery and bouts of sickness and everything about me that is imperfect, because this sort of thing leaves me with a hundred backdoors through which I can escape from enduring habits."
Frank looked at Annie incredulously and laughed. Ally heard him and called him to come and kiss her goodnight. Frank and Annie went back downstairs while Bobby finished reading to Ally. Annie saw that Frank was trying to keep his laughter under control, but once downstairs he gave up and laughed out loud.
"Nietzsche?! He's reading Nietzsche to his eight year old daughter for bedtime?!"
Annie chuckled and said, "Well, it puts her to sleep."
Frank sat down on the couch and Annie sat in a chair. Frank looked at her thoughtfully.
"If I remember my Nietzsche correctly, he wasn't too crazy about religion. I'm surprised a devout Christian like yourself would let your children be exposed to his writings", Frank said.
"Well, Christianity has survived two thousand years of persecution, apostasy, intrigue, and critical thinkers. I think my faith and my children will survive his philosophy."
"Have you seen Mom lately?" Frank asked, changing the subject.
"Sure, we went to see her today. She was asking about you. She always asks about you. You should go see her. Come with us next weekend."
Frank shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, maybe." He looked back at Annie and asked, "So, how are the family jewels?"
Annie laughed. After ten years, it still bothered Frank that his mother had given her a string of pearls that had belonged to her mother.
"Wow, I'm impressed, Frank. You were here three whole hours before bringing up the pearls. That must be some kind of record."
She was relieved to hear Bobby coming down the stairs. When Frank was drunk or on drugs he was usually angry at Annie, often calling her names and accusing her of lying to his mother about him. When he was sober, his anger took on a more passive-aggressive form as he tried to push buttons he thought would upset her. Bobby leaned down and kissed the top of her head as he passed, then he settled on the couch next to Frank. Annie pulled out blanket she was crocheting and worked on it as she listened to Frank and Bobby talking. She smiled as she watched Bobby. He really enjoyed being with his brother when Frank was sober.
Frank was laughing as he asked, "You seriously read Nietzsche to your kids at bedtime?"
Bobby grinned sheepishly. "Not every night. I read regular kid's books to them, too. I just want to, you know, expose them to a…a…wide variety of ideas."
"Let me guess. You drag them to museums every weekend, the New York Public Library, you use a trip to the zoo as a lesson on different cultures around the world, you have flashcards for math and reading, and you've got a piano over there so I'm seeing piano lessons and long hours of practice. Teaching them any foreign languages yet?"
Bobby was still smiling, but he shifted uncomfortably. "A little German."
Frank snorted derisively. "C'mon Bobby, you're really going to drag your kids through all that 'broadening their horizons' crap that Mom tried with us? At least she tried it when she wasn't crazy and crawling around the apartment looking for imaginary bugs. We hated that stuff. Why would you do that to your own kids?"
Bobby rubbed the back of his neck and didn't answer right away. "I didn't hate it, Frank. I liked going to those places with Mom."
"You were just happy any time she acted half-way normal. And Mom and Dad didn't push you the way they pushed me. 'You are so smart, Frank, we know you can get straight A's. You are so good in math, Frank, you could be a scientist someday. You don't have time for sports, Frank, you need to concentrate on your studies. With your brains and your grades, Frank, you could get into the best colleges.' It was a load of crap, Bobby. I hated all that stuff. You don't know how jealous I was of you because you could just go out and play, you could join the basketball team in high school, you could just hang out with Lewis and work on his broken down car."
"I…I had no idea. I'm sorry Frank."
Frank laughed and lightly punched Bobby in the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, little brother. I guess we turned out OK, considering the messed up family we came from. Hey, didn't you tell me you found a vintage Frank Sinatra vinyl? Let's hear it."
Bobby smiled. He got up and led Frank down to his office where he had his collection of records. Annie could see that in spite of the smile, some of the joy had gone out of the evening for him. She got a book and curled up on the couch. She fell asleep, but woke up when Bobby and Frank came back upstairs.
As they were telling Frank goodbye Annie told him, "Ally has a piano recital at the end of the month. I know she would be thrilled if you came."
Frank said he would try. Bobby and Annie stood on the front steps and watched him drive away. He was quiet as they went back in the house. Annie started turning off lights.
Bobby told her, "I think I'm going to go downstairs for a while. You go ahead and go to bed. I'll be up later."
"OK." Annie kissed him and watched him walk towards the basement. She went upstairs and got ready for bed. She recognized the troubled look on her husband's face. Unfortunately it was all too common to see it after a visit with either his mother or his brother. Something that was said would trigger the insecurities and self-doubts that only arose around his family. She knew that there was nothing she could do but wait until he was ready to talk about it.
It was much later when Bobby finally came to bed. Annie woke up as he wrapped his arms around her and snuggled against her back. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled appreciatively. She laced her fingers through his and leaned back against him.
"Are you OK?" she asked sleepily.
"Yes." He kissed her ear. "You know, Frank was right. Mom and Dad pushed him so hard. He had to have the top grades and they wanted him to focus on his school work and not 'goof off'. And after Dad left, Frank was supposed to keep up his grades and take care of Mom at the same time. He says he was jealous of me because I got to goof off. I was always jealous of him because they gave him so much attention."
He was silent for a moment before asking softly, "Do I push the kids too hard?"
"No."
"Everything Frank said, I do. The flashcards, the museums, the zoo, the music lessons, the German lessons. Reading Nietzsche to them—that is weird, isn't it?"
Annie sighed and pulled away from him so that she could sit up and turn to face him.
"Yeah, the Nietzsche is a little weird; I'll give him that. But the German? You know that kids pick up foreign languages a lot faster than adults do; it only makes sense to expose them to it now. And in case you've forgotten, the piano lessons were my idea. There is nothing wrong with flashcards, museums, or the zoo. You are a great dad and our kids are very normal and healthy."
"That's exactly the kind of stuff Mom made us do. You heard Frank; he hated it."
"And you loved it. Bobby, the kids have fun with you doing all those things. They love being with you and they love going to all those places with you."
Bobby reached over and pulled her down so that she was lying with her head on his chest. He was silent for a few minutes.
"Do you remember the boy I told you about the other day?" he asked.
"The teenage rock star or the ten year old genius?"
"The ten year old. His father confessed to murdering the social worker and the deputy mayor."
"I saw that on the news. He was that boy's father? Why did he kill them? Does the boy have family to take care of him?"
"He…..he didn't say why he killed them." Annie knew there was more to it than that, but she also knew that Bobby couldn't tell her. "An aunt and uncle came to get him. The thing is that boy wasn't really a genius."
"What do you mean? You said he graduated from high school when he was seven!"
"Yeah, but it turns out the kid is very smart and has a really good memory. All the personality tests, the SATs, all those tests he's taken over the years—it was all his father. He drilled him over and over until he memorized all those tests and answers so he could pass them. This kid's whole life has been nothing but trying to please his father and be the genius he wanted him to be."
Annie could see where he was headed and tightened her arms around him. "Babe, you are nothing like that father."
"Maybe not as extreme, but…"
"Bobby stop! Look, you said that this little boy couldn't even play baseball, that his whole life was studying….or memorizing, I guess. That's not our kids. They play baseball, there's music….Babe, they watch 'Spongebob Squarepants', for crying out loud!"
Bobby chuckled softly and Annie went on. "Look, Frank hated all the 'culture' stuff your mother dragged him to because the attention came with all these expectations. For you it was all about craving the attention that your parents were too wrapped up in themselves and Frank to give you. And that little boy had all of his father's attention, but like Frank, he also had all his unrealistic expectations. None of that applies to our children. You spend time with them, you encourage them to do their best, you have fun with them."
Annie wondered, as she often did, how her brilliant husband could understand so much about human psychology, yet with his own family he was still the sad, neglected little boy. He didn't say anything, but lay quietly, tracing patterns on her back. Annie raised herself up on her elbow and looked down at him.
"How about this? Tomorrow…well, today," she said, glancing at the clock next to the bed, "we will forget about the museum and go on a picnic. No flash cards, no 'culture', just fun. How's that sound?"
Bobby's eyes still looked doubtful, but he smiled and rubbed his thumb across her cheek.
"A picnic? Does that mean fried chicken?"
She smiled down at him. "Sure, fried chicken for you and fried 'chicken-like' gluten for me. And the kids get to choose whichever."
Since allowing the children to choose whether to eat meat once each of them turned five, they had all chosen to eat the same foods their father did. But Annie continued trying to coax them to eat vegetarian foods. They all liked her vegetarian dishes, but still ate the meat dishes their father liked. Bobby pulled her down to kiss her.
"Is there anything else you would like to do to make me feel better?" he asked in a soft, low voice that was impossible for Annie to resist. She gave an exaggerated sigh.
"Well, OK. But hurry so I can get back to sleep."
Bobby laughed as he grabbed her, flipped her onto her back, and rolled on top of her.
"Hurry up? No problem!"
Annie giggled until his kisses became so passionate and intense that it made it difficult to even breathe.
The next afternoon they arrived at the park with their picnic—including fried chicken, fried "chicken-like" gluten, potato salad, raw vegetables, and freshly made chocolate chip cookies for dessert. After eating, the children ran off some of their energy while their parents cleaned up, then they all walked to the lake to feed the ducks. They came back and played on the swings, slide, and monkey bars. Annie sat on the blanket and watched Bobby tossing a baseball with them and giving them batting tips. He joined her on the blanket to watch them play tag. After tiring of playing tag, Ally decided to teach her brothers a song.
"OK, guys," said Ally, "I'm gonna teach you a baseball song. If you want to play Little League someday, you need to learn it."
"OK," Andrew and Phillip answered. They sat on the grass and gave their big sister their undivided attention as she began singing.
When you're sliding
into first
And your pants begin to burst
diarrhea, diarrhea
The boys began to laugh and joined in on the chorus of "diarrhea, diarrhea" in very loud voices.
When you're sliding
into two
And your pants are filled with goo
DIARRHEA! DIARRHEA!
When you're sliding into third
And you feel a
greasy turd
DIARRHEA! DIARRHEA!
When you're sliding
into home
And your pants are filled with foam
DIARRHEA! DIARRHEA!
Annie looked at Bobby solemnly and said, "I think you're right. They are MUCH too focused on intellectual pursuits."
He looked at her silently for a moment. All three children's voices rose to an alarming volume as they wound up for the grand finale.
You know it's not very funny
but it's very
hot and runny
DIARRHEA! DIARRHEA!
Slowly Bobby began to smile, then chuckle, and then his rich throaty laugh seemed to rock his entire body. Annie giggled at his reaction and was soon joining his contagious laughter. All three children laughed with delight that their parents found them so entertaining. They all ran and flopped down on the blanket.
"That's a cool song, huh Daddy?" Phillip asked.
Still laughing, Bobby ruffled Phillip's dark curls and said, "Yes, that's a very cool song. Where did you learn it, Ally?"
"From the older kids in Little League," Ally replied, very pleased with herself.
As the laughter began to die down, Annie lay down on the blanket and looked up at the sky.
"Hey, everyone lay down at look at these beautiful clouds," she said.
They all complied and lay there in silence for a few moments. Annie asked, "What do you see up there, Babe?"
Bobby answered, "I see cumulus clouds. See how they have slightly flat bases and clearly defined edges? If the tops of the clouds continue to grow vertically, they develop into cumulonimbus clouds, or thunderstorm clouds. The base of a cumulonimbus cloud can be as close as 300 feet from Earth's surface and extend upward to over 12,000 fee…." Annie cut him off with a hand over his mouth.
"OK, let's start over, Mr. Encyclopedia," she giggled. "What shapes do you see in the clouds? See that one right up there? Doesn't it look like a giraffe?"
Ally pointed and exclaimed, "I see a fairy princess!"
Bobby pulled Annie's hand from his mouth and grinned at her. "OK, right over there I see a monkey."
Phillip yelled, "I see a football!"
Andrew pointed and said, "Look! There's a spaceship!"
Annie began telling a story about a football-playing giraffe, the naughty monkey who stole the football, the fairy princess who showed the monkey the error of his ways, and the spaceship that the monkey and giraffe climbed into for a trip to the moon. As she finished the story she realized that all three children had fallen asleep. Bobby reached over and pulled her close.
"Have I mentioned that I love you?" he asked softly.
"Back at 'cha, Big Guy," she whispered.
She felt him relax as they lay and silently watched the clouds
End Chapter One