Title: Jay's Coffee Shop

Author: Kristin aka hullywoodbound

Pairing: Goren/Eames

Spoilers: post untethered

Rating: T (PG-13) for language

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters in any way shape or form - I just like to have fun with them ;)

Author's Notes: This is my first fanfic. ever. I have maybe read 2 full fanfics in my whole life but this story got into my head and I couldn't get it out until I typed away lol. I would adore any and all constructive criticism in hopes of making myself a better writer so please if you see something thats off, sounds bad, ect please feel free to leave a comment with ways to improve on those things. Oh and for the record Jay's Coffee Shop is not a real place. I do have to say thanks to my awesome friend prongsieandlily who awesomely did the beta for me :) and of course lilprincess26 who made sure I didn't get too OOC. :)

The sound of her cell phone going off jolted Detective Eames out of bed. She grumbled as she reached the answer the phone sitting on her nightstand.

"Eames," she managed to get out, right after a large yawn. There was silence on the other end. "Hello?" her voice grew stern. She was too damn tired to deal with a prank call—she had barely slept in days, since Bobby had come back from his undercover mission.

"Eames?" She could tell it was Goren's voice, yet it was so cold, so distant; not his normal voice or manner of speaking.

"Bobby?" she didn't want her voice to sound too eager to finally talk to him. She sat up quickly and propped herself against the headboard, allowing her eyes to finally adjust to the darkness. She looked over at the clock on her nightstand. It was 3:15 a.m.

"Bobby, where are you? It's 3:15 in the morning!" her voice raised with concern, but she tried not to make it too obvious. She couldn't let on that she was so worried about his health, his mental state.

"I just... I just needed some time alone… to think," his voice was still distant and distracted, but still rough and trying to maintain control. He could tell she was angry with him, but he knew he couldn't tell her that the only person he needed to talk to, to be with, was her.

"Where are you?" the concern in her voice turned to annoyance. Not a word from him in days, and now he wakes her up at 3:15 in the morning to chitchat about needing some time and space. "Really fucking nice," she thought to herself.

"42nd and Broadway. I'm at a little…" he was cut off mid-sentence.

"Times Square? You're in Times Square? Bobby what the hell is going on?" the concern arose in her voice again. It wasn't like him to just take off for days at a time—at least not without a phone call letting her know he was okay. It wasn't in her nature to worry like this. However, with the unfolding of the undercover mission and what happened to him when he was there, she couldn't help but be worried.

"I needed to clear my head and think... I just needed some time," he tried to regain control of the conversation again. He never allowed himself to be this open—this vulnerable—to anyone, especially to her. "I just wanted to know if you were in the mood for some coffee."

His question surprised her, and she sat for a second looking around her room. She wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the hour, or maybe she was just too tired to even comprehend any of it, but the one thing she did know was that she needed to see him without letting on that she wanted to.

"Yeah, I guess I could go for some coffee," she flatly answered him. "Give me a few minutes. I'll be there when I can."

She hung up the phone and just sat there for a second. She was trying to regain her thoughts and work out what had just happened in her head, when her cell phone beeped that she had a low battery. This snapped her back to reality, and she realized she needed to get dressed. She sighed as she put on some old jeans and her leather coat. She threw her hair back into a loose ponytail, and grabbed the keys to her car.

"What the hell am I doing?" she mumbled to herself as she made her way to the car. "What the hell am I doing?"

She made her way to the small coffee shop at 42nd and Broadway, Jay's Coffee. The place looked like a total dive, but of course, nothing else within a three-block radius was open at this hour. They had coffee and were quiet, and she was sure that was part of the appeal to Bobby. She took a deep breath and sighed as she pushed open the red door and braced herself for whatever was to follow.

Her eyes scanned the small shop for Bobby. It wasn't hard to find him, the place was practically deserted and it's pretty hard to miss a six foot, three inch man with graying hair.

"Here goes nothing" she sighed under her breath and began to make her way to the corner booth where Bobby sat, waiting for her.

"Hey" she half-smiled at him to try and lighten the mood, she wanted to let him feel like he had control - it was how he liked it and she wanted him to feel comfortable, she didn't want to scare him off.

"Hey," Bobby replied back with very little emotion after a second or two. He gave a slight smile and motioned for her sit. He wanted to show her that he was okay, and that he was the same old Bobby, and there was no need for concern, but he knew he wouldn't be able to hide it from her. She knew him all too well.

She sat down across from him and moved around, trying to get comfortable. After a few minutes with no luck, she just gave up and sat back with her arms crossed. Her demeanor was sullen. She was concerned, worried, and annoyed, and yet the only thing she could think as she watched him from across the table was how badly she wished that she could comfort him, console him, and make him feel whole again.

"I got you some coffee. The stuff here isn't that bad," he motioned to the coffee on the table. "I'm sorry I woke you," he didn't know where else to start; his voice was shaky probably from the lack of sleep. He cleared this throat, hoping that would help.

"It's not a problem. So how have you been?" she asked, half distracted by the happenings around them in the shop and outside—not with the conversation at all. Nothing felt the same anymore. They used to really be able to tune into one another and just click, and now it was as if they were strangers.

He could tell she knew things were different—that he was different. He needed to explain the things in his head, but how could he explain what he felt, or the voices that he couldn't escape? There was so much he needed to work out before he could fully share just exactly where his mind was. He wasn't ready yet.

"I'm okay," he started to say, but when he looked at her, he knew that she didn't believe him. His voice drifted off a bit as his eyes got distracted by the waitress walking by, and the ding that the food was ready.

She stared at him cautiously, and her worry grew into more and more of a concern. She could tell that he hadn't slept in days. He looked like death, and she knew he hadn't eaten. He was wilting away. He looked so disheveled, so pale, and so lost. She wanted to hug him, but she knew that she couldn't.

"Bobby when was the last time you slept?" she surprised herself by blurting that out. She didn't care if she sounded too concerned. At this point, she knew that the lack of sleep mixed with what he experienced would be an outcome neither of them wanted—it would cause him to break. She was tired of trying to pretend he was okay. She wanted to make sure that he was okay.

Bobby was taken back at how upfront she was. It was unlike her to show so much concern for him outright. It intrigued him to know she was so concerned for his well-being. "A day or so ago," he looked down and sipped his coffee, a clear tell that he was lying.

"You need to eat and get some sleep," she continued, uncaring of how she came off. It was unlike her to be so forceful with him. They had their share of spats where they were forceful with each other, but not like this. She looked at him with concern on her face, trying to make eye contact with him, to let him know she cared and was concerned for his well-being. She wanted him to look at her and know that she was there for him—she would always be there for him.

His demeanor softened a bit as he began to feel more at ease with the conversation. She was finally treating him like the old Bobby. She didn't give a shit if what she said hurt him. She said what she felt, and he respected the hell out of that. He started to relax, and he looked up at her, giving a half-smile. "Heh, this place is kind of nice, isn't it?" he tried to deflect the seriousness of her questions and the concern in her voice. He looked at her sitting there with no makeup and her hair a mess, thinking he had never seen anyone look more beautiful, but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind.

"Bobby you need to sleep. It's not healthy or good for you to go so long without sleep. Not to mention, you look like total shit," she was blunt and didn't care. She didn't want him to change the subject or try and use humor to get out of this—he needed her help, and she was damned determined to give it to him. Her eyes glared at him. There was no smile on her face. He needed to know that she was serious.

"Why don't you let me drive you home so you can sleep? Please, you need to take care of yourself!" It was all coming out of her mouth so fast. She needed to slow down. She couldn't allow herself to show him how much she truly cared about him. She couldn't allow herself to act like more than his partner. She took a sip of her now cold coffee, making a face of disgust.

Bobby laughed as he watched her face. "I guess you shouldn't have waited so long to drink that, huh?" he smirked and waved for the waitress to bring more coffee.

As the waitress refilled their cups with piping hot coffee, they sat in silence, wondering what the other was thinking. It was an awkward silence, the kind of silence you always try and avoid. Bobby was the first to break it; he never really liked just sitting without conversation when he was with her.

"I really am okay," he said with enough conviction that even he believed it. "I just needed some time to sort out all the stuff going on in my head." He took a sip of his coffee and continued, "I will be back to work in no time."

She watched him as he spoke. He always spoke with such intelligence, such poise, that it entranced her, but somehow it was different this time. It felt as if he was forcing it. She didn't want to get sucked into what he was saying. She needed to make sure that the words were more than that. She needed to know that he was okay, not just saying that he was. She moved around in her seat, trying again to get comfortable with no luck "These damn booths," she thought to herself.

"There isn't a need to be concerned, Eames, I'm fine," he said, staring straight at her in hopes she would believe him. He wanted nothing more than to sit with her for hours, just to be near her, to hear her voice. He never let on that throughout all he had been through, she truly kept him sane. Even though it seemed as if he was always her rock to the outside, he had always thought of her as his.

She looked at the man who used to be so strong, her rock, and felt unsure about what was to come. He was the only person since Joe to ever make her feel so secure. She needed him to be a rock, but she knew now it was her turn to be his. She needed to return the favor to him. She looked at him as he spoke to her, and she wondered if in the time he was gone he thought about her at all.

"When you were with… what happened…" Alex found herself stumbling upon her words which was rare she was normally so well thought out, so well put together. She regained her composure "What was going through your mind?" It was the first time she had a chance to ask him what went on when he was locked in "heaven." She wanted him to open up to her, to share those thoughts, in order to release whatever he was holding on to. She wanted him to know that she could be his rock the way he had been hers.

Bobby seemed stunned by the question, even though he knew it was going to come up, but he thought he would have been more prepared. He shifted around in his seat and took a sip of his coffee, as if to wrangle his thoughts into sentences that would make sense to her. He looked out the window in hopes of maybe shifting the attention away from the question.

"I'm not sure how to answer that," he began to explain. "So much went through my head as I…" his voice drifting back to that place. The voices, the screams, were all coming back to him. His face began to pale and his breathing began to deepen, as though he was right back there strapped down to the table, calling out for help.

"Bobby?" her voice brought him back to reality "I…I never should have asked. I'm sorry," she felt slightly upset at what she had caused. Her voice had become very soft—almost a whisper. It was never her intention to make him relive the moments from that place, or make him feel as though he was losing control. She looked down at her coffee and played with the sugar packets. She couldn't even bring herself to look up at him.

He stared at her for a second until his breathing returned to normal, his thoughts no longer in that place. "Its not your fault, Eames. I chose to go undercover in there. I chose to accept whatever it cost me mentally and physically in order to help Donny and Frank," his voice never faltered. It was truly what he believed. "I never should have involved you in this."

She finally looked up at him, and the cop in her came out. "You didn't involve me, I involved myself. I backed you on this case because I believed that there was something going on up there," which was true. She did believe he had reason to go there, to go undercover. She only wished that he could have gone through the proper channels to do so. However, she refused to let him go without any plan or without anyone from the outside looking out for him. She knew what she was getting into the moment he left the squad room that night. "You were going to do it with or without me, and I felt that it was safer for you to have someone looking out for you here than it was for you to be there without anyone knowing," her eyes rose to meet his. She was trying so hard not to get emotional. "I just wish I could have helped you…"

Bobby cut her off mid-sentence. He couldn't watch her blame herself. "Don't you get it? You did help me, and who knows where I would be right now if you didn't have my back," his voice was sweet, yet stern. He wanted her to know this. He wanted her to feel that none of this was her fault. The only person to blame was himself. "You did everything you could, and then some, and for that I'm very grateful." It almost seemed unnatural for him to say such a thing, very soft, very kind. He was never sentimental in any way. "I hope she doesn't catch that," he thought to himself, and stirred his coffee to avoid eye contact.

Alex did catch the sweetness and honesty in what he said, but chose to say nothing. She only smiled softly as she looked up at him. She didn't really know why she was smiling. It just felt as though there had been a weight lifted between the two of them. Bobby looked up and noticed her smiling, and he couldn't help but stare. "She looks so beautiful when she smiles," he thought to himself. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but he couldn't risk the partnership they had taken so long to build.

"So, do you want me to drive you home?" Alex finally asked, "Because you really do look like shit," she chuckled as she got up to pay the bill.