You're Still Here
Subtitled Another Damn 'Wee Small Hours' Post-Ep, Subsubtitled Oh, God She Wrote A Songfic! Noooooooo!
By LMR
Summary: I swore I would never write a songfic, but this particular song was so perfect I found I wasn't capable of not doing it. BA post-ep of 'Wee Small Hours.' Romanticish, but if you're all for the platonic thing, I guess it could work for that. Sure, fine, whatever. Be that way.
Three months later:
I was looking this one over and I think I wrote and posted it in a hurry: I wanted to fix it up a bit. So I guess you'd call this the 2-disc Special Edition Gold Platinum Rerelease of 'You're Still Here' - revised, tweaked, and hopefully sweeter and funnier. Thanks for all the great reviews the first time, and hopefully history will repeat itself?
Oh, and, by the by, while I was revising and rearranging, I accidently bumped into that whole "could be taken as platonic" thing, and it sort of fell out the window. Oops.
Disclaimer: Why bother? Dick Wolf and Alanis Morissette are the owners, and everybody knows that.
xXx
They hadn't said enough, she knew that much. A simple 'sorry' could not begin to undo the cruelty in that letter. Seeing it again had been like a punch in the gut. She'd never forgotten it, but she had somehow never thought about just how vicious it had been. She racked her brain. How could I have said those things?
Oh, yeah. I was drunk. 'Splains a lot.
Alex turned over the words in her head. Doubts about his mental stability? Shouldn't be on the force? Images flitted through her mind of another officer saying any of those things about Bobby.
Somehow, the image always ended with a picture of said officer entering an intimate relationship with her knee. And damned if Bobby wasn't going to know that.
"Bobby," she called, letting a scolding tone enter her voice. He turned, and she could read in his movements even before she could see his face that he was dreading this. Can't we just forget the whole thing?
Her refusal to reply gave him his answer. No, Bobby, we can't. He nodded, understanding, turning to her like he was facing his executioner. The temptation was there just to wrap him in her arms and hold him for a minute. Alex could use that herself right now, and surely he had to be feeling even worse. She pushed down the urge: Bobby was fragile, and rapid temperature changes could break fragile things.
Good grief, I'm thinking in physics metaphors. The big goof is wearing off on me.
"There's more to say, Bobby. You know we can't just let something this big go." She rubbed her forehead with her hand, looking down at the marble floor, letting the beautiful pattern distract her for a moment, feeling like he was taking forever to say whatever it was he was going to say. Yell. Cry. Swear. Anything, but I need him to tell me what he's thinking and not just pretend that-
"It's okay, really, don't worry about it." He shrugged a little, dismissive.
"Don't worry? I hurt you, Goren." She was working out the words like a math equation:
Big, deep, emotional talk: -5 from Bobby comfort level. Use of professional, cop-talk last name+2 toward Bobby comfort level.
Good thing she hadn't tried to hug him. She was pretty sure that would have been a -50.
"It was a terrible thing to do, and watching you sit there, in pain, it just-"
He interrupted her. "It hurt you. You have no idea how awful it was for me-" He registered the remorse on her face at this. She looked like she was about to cry again, and he understood. She thought it was a taunt, that he was being sarcastic about her feelings. He hastily continued, touching her arm, willing his expression to give away everything he was feeling.
That's not something I'm used to wanting.
"How awful it was for me to see you up there, your voice shaking, you were so upset, and so helpless to say what you wanted to, what he was doing was so cruel to you," He saw the relief evident in Eames's face, and he finished, "It hurt knowing that you were feeling that way because of me." Her jaw dropped. "I just hope you know I'm not mad at you. I don't want you to think that I, um..."
A speechless Alex Eames was a rare occurrence, and it didn't take her long to come right back. "I can't believe you," she said smiling slightly. "I'm stabbing you in the back and here you are, concerned I'll sprain my wrist."
Snappy comeback in response to touching remark+4 and three quarters-Bobby points. She forced her arms to stay at her side.
"No, Eames." Well, we can't hope for miracles. "It's not like that at all. You didn't st- It's kind of reassuring, really." He read the skepticism on her face, a fractional turn of her head, her right eyebrow raised a hair and her mouth opened just a little. "Sometimes I wondered if you stuck around because you wanted to, or because you never let yourself consider leaving." He looked down at the ground like a nervous kid. "Now I don't have to wonder what you would do if you saw what else might be out there for you. You've looked in another direction, considered walking away and you made the choice not to. And you're still here," he said, and she could hear the surprise in it.
"Stubborn as a mule," she confirmed. "We're okay, then?" she raised her eyebrows.
"We're great," he confirmed. And to her surprise, he pulled her into a tight hug.
+50 toward Alex happy as a clam points!
He breathed in deep, obviously content despite the look on his face that plainly said, 'please let her not hate me for doing this.'
I don't, you ninny, she squeezed back. "I have to go now," she said regretfully, refusing to separate from him completely until she got a casual smile. "Three hour drive, thank goodness for the radio, huh?" She caught another smile and left the courthouse.
xXx
But said radio was doing her few favors. She was about an inch from the off dial when the deejay started talking.
"Sounds like we have a request on the line. Bobby, what can I play for you tonight?" She started at the familiar name before realizing that there were enough Bobbys in the city of New York to choke a blue whale, and this was not likely to be hers.
"Am I on?"
It was a testament to the strength of her better judgement that she didn't slam on the brakes right there at fifty miles per hour, laws of physics be damned.
Because her Bobby's voice had just come on the radio. She smiled immediately, hearing that he really didn't want to be there. He tripped all over himself. "I have a re- a dedication. 'Everything.' Thesong 'Everything,' I mean, not that you play all of them."
"Go ahead and say something about it, Bobby," the deejay encouraged (words that she would soon regret). "Who's it going out to?"
"For my part- for my friend." Alex's stomach lept. Mr. Attachement Issues used the f-word! she inwardly shouted in celebration.
"My friend Alex."
Wow. He's on a roll.
"Alex, I need you to know that everything's okay, I'm not upset, and I'm just really glad you're still here. Um, metaphorically here, I mean. You're not-" Alex bit her lip as if trying to conceal from him that she found him embarassment adorable.
"Okay, anything else?" the deejay wondered, making it clear that there had better darned well not be anything else. "Thanks, here's-"
"Oh, yeah. Um, the song was written by a woman, and you know, well I'm not." Alex nearly spit up the sip of coffee she'd just taken laughing. "So just, well, whenever it says woman, swit - well, I'm sure you could have figured that out on your own." Alex actually found herself nodding.
"That all?" This time the deejay managed to put a note of threat into her voice.
"Oh, and uh, some of the lines sound kinda braggy, but I mean that's, well... Those're how you make me fee- I should shut up now."
Chipper, the deejay concurred. "Probably a good idea, Bobby. I think he'll get the message."
"No, she. Alex is a she."
"Oh," the deejay said teasingly. "I see how it is."
"No! It's-"
"Without further ado, this is Alanis Morissette," she concluded as quickly as she could, making it sound like one long word lest Bobby open his mouth again.
I
can be an nightmare of the grandest kind I am the wisest
woman you've ever met. You
see everything, you see every part
I can withhold like it's
going out of style
I can be the moodiest baby and you've never met
anyone
Who is as negative as I am sometimes
I am the kindest soul with whom you've
connected.
I have the bravest heart that you've ever seen
And
you've never met anyone
Who's as positive as I am sometimes.
You see all my light and you
love my dark
You dig everything of which I'm ashamed -
There's
not anything to which you can't relate I
blame everyone else, not my own partaking You see everything, you see every part What I resist, persists, and speaks louder
than I know I'm the funniest woman that you've ever known
And you're still here
My
passive-aggressiveness can be devastating
I'm terrified and
mistrusting
And you've never met anyone as
As closed down as I
am sometimes.
You
see all my light and you love my dark
You dig everything of which
I'm ashamed
There's not anything to which you can't relate
And
you're still here
What I resist, you love, no matter how low or high I
go
I'm the
dullest woman that you've ever known
I'm the most gorgeous woman
that you've ever known
(Presumptious, Bobby, she noted. True, but presumptuous.)
And
you've never met anyone
Who is as everything as I am sometimes
You
see everything, you see every part
You see all my light and you
love my dark
You dig everything of which I'm ashamed
There's
not anything to which you can't relate
And you're still here
It
was a good thing the roads were relatively empty at the time, because
Alex pulled into the drive having no memory of actually maneuvering a
car in the general direction of her home.
Sitting in the parking lot, she dialed him up. "I got your message." She could hear his relief. "Thank you. It was very nice. And no, you weren't bragging. Every one of those good lines fits you."
"Even gorgeous?" he teased.
"Don't push it, Bobby," she said, trying to keep a laugh out of her voice. "I'm really glad you did that; it's lucky you-" She frowned. "How did you know which station?"
"Um, well, I didn't exactly, I kind of..."
Alex gaped. "You called every single one of them didn't you?"
"No! No, I didn't, I mean, I skipped the talk, gospel, Spanish and the heavy metal stations."
She rolled her eyes, the rest of her face betraying how touched she was. "Oh, well then it's a good thing I got Rob Zombie out of my system last night," she quipped. "It meant a lot to me, B- Goren," she switched quickly, sensing he was squirming on the other end of the line. "You better believe I'm sticking around, Bobby. Good night." She got a response and flipped her phone shut, hoping he really did understand what it meant to her. +3,000 I can't believe he thinks he's lucky points!
And you better believe it about the gorgeous line, too.
xXx
Wow, a songfic post ep. If I had put Betty Sue in there I believe it would have been legal, at least in some states, for you to put me to death without a trial. Ho-hum. Let me know what you think. Better now?