Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of Law and Order CI…yet…furthermore, I mention Goren's size constantly in my fics, it's not an insult, I have never dated a small man. So stop telling me that…and I don't have anything going on between him and Alex either…so nix on that too…
Chapter One
To the average person walking down the streets of New York City, the sounds would have been impossible to block out: the screeching brakes of taxis and buses, slight amounts of steam erupting from the manholes in the sidewalks, the sizzling of thick franks on a sidewalk hot dog vender. Two natives stopped at this vender for lunch, and it was these that were so able to disregard all of the thunderous noises about them, and at the same time be completely aware of every word of every person that passed them.
"She wasn't even listening to me!"
"And I told you to pick it up at twelve…"
"Completely unacceptable…"
"Oh honey, it's beautiful!"
"Happy anniversary sweetheart…" Detective Bobby Goren smiled at this tidbit then shoved into his mouth the whole of his relish-drenched hot dog.
"How do you eat that stuff? Do you know what that does to your intestines?" Eames asked, looking disgustedly at a chunk of relish dripping off the edge of his chin.
"Iff wan na meb Eemths." Goren replied. Eames just laughed at his attempt to speak and took a tiny bite out of her naked hot dog. It was almost three o'clock on a Monday afternoon in August, and the air was turning cold for winter. The two detectives from the Major Case Squad of New York's finest had just escorted a witness to a trial that had finally put away a dangerous serial killer. The Detective swallowed half of his mouthful and tried to speak again.
"I said because I'm hung-" Cough. Hack. Goren had just been slammed into by something and inhaled a piece of frank. When he had regained his breath, he looked down to the object that had knocked the wind out of him to see a girl who could not have been more than sixteen sprawled on the ground before him. Goren was a six-foot tall veritable rock, and therefore not much fun to run in to.
"I'm sorry, are you okay?" Goren asked, reaching a hand down to help the terribly thin beauty up. But she recoiled, startling him. "It's okay, I'm a police officer, are you okay?" he repeated. The girl didn't speak, but turned her head wildly behind her. She rolled over and flew to her feet, and taking a last look at Goren, ran full-speed around him and left into an alley.
"What was that all about?" Eames asked, looking up at Goren, who remained silent. He looked at the alley and back to where the girl had looked, and back and forth again, making something of a scene. He finally settled on the place across the street where the girl had flashed a glance and narrowed his eyes.
"Not what: who…" He said, walking across the street toward the opposite corner.
"Who?" Eames asked, once again losing Goren's erratic train of thought.
"You don't walk into people unless you're looking behind you, and you don't run into people unless you're running from something behind you." They reached the spot across the street and Goren twisted his head this way and that, looking incredibly concentrated; but there was nothing beyond the constant mob of lunch-goers, completely unknowing of a terrified young girl who had happened upon someone who cared.