Alexandra Eames slammed her door firmly behind her, ushering out the last of the crime scene techs that had come to check for evidence that Kevin/Gabrielle had been in her place. She was glad the cleaning lady had come a few days ago, and she hadn't been home much since. No mess to embarrass her.

She sighed. Her favorite red silk blouse and a pair of panties, both stuffed into evidence bags and boxed up somewhere in the property room. Perfect.

Slowly, she wandered toward the kitchen, taking down a tumbler and filling it with ice. She had to stand on a chair to find the grimy bottle shoved at the back of her baking supplies cabinet. She wiped the dust off the bottle of Booker's bourbon. Still half full.

She carefully poured the golden liquid over the ice, raised the glass to her nose and inhaled deeply, then grinned.

"Too much time with Goren, Alexandra," she murmured into the silence. Carrying the glass, she moved into the living room, placing it on the coffee table and settling into the couch, looking at it.

Bourbon had been a good friend when Joe was killed. A better friend than any of her family or Kevin, for that matter. The bourbon hadn't gotten tired of listening to her; it had taken her tears and recriminations with no complaints.

Alex didn't know how long she sat on the couch staring at the glass, hardly aware of the silent tears rolling down her face. A knock at the door startled her from her reverie, and she noticed that the ice was almost completely melted, a thin layer of water floating on top of the liquor.

Not bothering to wipe her face, she went to the door, and swung it open.

It was Goren.

Somehow, even before she opened the door, she had known it was Goren.

"Eames….I brought pizza…..you've been crying," he said, reaching out as if to touch her face, stopping just before he did.

"Nothing gets by you, Detective," she said. Leaving the door hanging open, she turned and walked back to the couch. He took her response as the invitation it was and wandered in behind her, dropping his coat on a chair and heading for the kitchen.

She heard rustling in the kitchen, and a couple of minutes later, he walked into the living room and handed her a paper plate with a piece of pizza on it, then settled on the chair perpendicular to the couch with his own piece.

Eames watched him, head cocked as he looked at her glass of bourbon.

"You okay, Eames?" he asked, moving his eyes away from the glass to her face.

"I'm tired, Bobby. I'm tired. I just had crime scene here dusting my underwear drawer for prints. My underwear drawer for God's sake! I had a wacko ex-boyfriend, or whatever he was, fall just short of trying to frame me for a murder, break into my house, steal my clothes." Alex was aware that her voice was rising, but she couldn't seem to control it. Goren was staring at her open mouthed, and she wondered when the last time was he had seen someone other than himself or a suspect lose control.

"Goddamn case was a bitch when I first got it, first case after Joe died, and it just kept going downhill from there. What the hell is the universe playing with that it keeps dragging me back to things I thought were resolved 10 years ago? Living through this crap once wasn't enough?"

She jumped up from the couch, dumping the pizza and the plate to the floor and fled to the kitchen, breathing heavily. She heard Goren follow her, heard him stop just inside the kitchen archway.

"Eames," he began.

Alex braced her arms on either side of the sink, eyes shut. And here it comes, she thought, now he's gonna talk and talk and talk…..

She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt Bobby's hands on her shoulders, turning her around, and pulling her into a hug.

Alex could count on one hand, on one finger, actually, the number of times Goren had hugged her before now. After Jo Gage, the day she got out of the hospital. Her face was buried in the soft cotton of his sweatshirt as he held her to him, shushing her like he would a small child, or a schizophrenic mother, her sarcastic side snarked.

She felt a sob bubbling up from deep within and was horrified when she couldn't stop it. And even more humiliated when it was followed by others. Then she just gave herself up to the hug and the weeping and stopped thinking all together.

When she finally finished crying, she realized that Goren was sitting on the floor, still holding her to him. She pulled back weakly, and gave him a watery smile, rubbing a hand over his sweatshirt.

"God, I got you all wet," she said.

"I'll dry," he said. His voice was husky, even deeper than usual.

She was suddenly, violently aware that her heart was beating quickly, that she was sitting on her partner's lap with their arms around each other, and that Goren was looking down at her with the tenderest expression she had ever seen on his face.

"Bobby, what…?"

He looked suddenly wary, and she raised her hand to touch his face, smiling when he leaned into her touch and his eyes closed briefly.

"God, Eames."

"I think if we are going to be having this conversation you should call me Alex," she said briskly, pushing herself out of his arms and standing. "And I also think we shouldn't do it sitting on my kitchen floor like….well, this."

Bobby was staring at her again, mouth open. Then he carefully levered himself up off the floor.

"I'm gonna go wash my face," she said. "Be right back."

Alex moved quickly into the bathroom and found herself repeating her earlier posture from the kitchen, arms braced against the edges, looking down. She pushed away from the sink, splashing cold water over her face and looking in the mirror. Her eyes were red and watery, her nose an unpleasant shade of hot pink, skin blotchy. But somehow, somehow she seemed lighter. Apparently the hysterical sobbing had cleared something out of her system that needed to be purged.

Drying her hands and face with a towel, she opened the door, wondering if Bobby had taken this time to flee.

But he hadn't. He was sitting on the couch, leaning forward, making water ring impressions on the coffee table with her abandoned glass. He looked up at her as she walked into the room, and she wondered if he even knew that he had put all of his emotional shutters down.

"Bobby, if we're gonna have this conversation, you're going to have to be here with me," Alex said softly, settling next to him on the couch.

"I'm here, Alex, I promise," he said just as softly, sitting back.

"Okay."

There was silence as they looked at each other. The silence lingered, and suddenly they both started laughing.

"Great conversation, Bobby, I'm glad we had this talk," Alex giggled out.

"Yeah, me too, nice to have it all cleared up," Bobby said, shaking his head with a grin.

"Alright, I guess someone has to start this," Alex took a deep breath. "What you said to the bartender?"

"Yeah."

"Were you just trying to get information about Kevin, or were you serious?"

"Can it have been both?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

Bobby stood up, looked at her apologetically, then smiled at her nod as he began to pace. "Eames…Alex. I don't think it will come as a shock to you if I tell you that I've been your partner longer than I've ever been in a relationship with a woman. For most of my life, my mother has had to come first. Now that she's gone, I'm seeing what I've been missing. I…..value our partnership. But I've come to realize that you and I could be more than just partners. I think that we could be…good together…as more. That is, if you are willing to try." He came to a stop directly in front of her, the coffee table between them.

Alex closed her eyes, sighed, rubbed her forehead, sighed again, reopened her eyes. "Bobby, it's been 10 years since Joe died. In those 10 years, I came to the conclusion that I was never going to find another man that I loved. Sure, I would date, but I decided I was one of those people who found one person and one person only, and once that person was…gone….they couldn't ever be replaced. That hole could never be filled."

Bobby turned his back to her, but his disappointment and tension were clear in the set of his shoulders. She stood up and walked around to face him, finding that his eyes were welded shut. She touched the wet spot on his chest again and his eyes flew open, looking down at her.

"Bobby, I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm willing to try for more, but I'm truly not sure if I can ever let anyone into my heart the way Joe was."

He reached out, tentatively, brushing a stray hair out her face, his other hand coming up to hold hers against his chest.

"I'm not asking you to do anything other than to try, Alex," he said softly, leaning down to kiss her.

"And Ross, the brass?" she asked, stopping him with their lips centimeters apart.

"I always forget how much of a cop you are, Alexandra Eames," he said with a laugh, not moving away, even when she glared at him. "We just figured out that we want to try to be more than partners. Can we figure ourselves out and then worry about them? I haven't even kissed you yet, you might hate it."

Her lips twisted into a smile. "Somehow I doubt that, but I suppose we do need more evidence."

Their lips met. Alex's only coherent thought for quite some time was Definitely do not hate it.

FIN

My first LO:CI piece! Hope you all enjoyed it. Comments feed the muse.