Birthday.
Bobby opened his eyes at the alarm. He reached across and switched it off and the ensuing quietness was blessed. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Outside he could hear the sounds of life going on and for a moment he listened.
He took a shower, brushed his teeth and studiously avoided looking at his reflection in the mirror. He didn't need to be reminded of how he looked, he knew he was a wreck. The grey in his hair, the bags under his eyes and the weight gain, he was painfully aware of all of them. So he went through his daily routine by rote.
On his way to work he collected his mail, shuffling through the variety of envelopes before stuffing them into his folder where they would remain ignored until at least the end of the day.
The city was hot, the heat was brutal and he swore he could feel it blistering through the soles of his shoes as he walked to One Police Plaza. The city was a swarming metropolis, the worker bees heading to their offices, to their stores, to their places of work, the elite heading to the coast and to their perfect million dollar summer homes. It would be nice to be able to do that, head off to the coast. He remembered times gone by where he, his mom and Frank would do exactly that. His idea of a perfect birthday as a child was to spend the day digging in the sand, building fantastical buildings, carrying buckets of seawater to create a perfect oasis only for the water to be absorbed into the sand. It didn't deter him though; he kept right on pouring that water in there and hoping for the best. It took him a while to figure it out.
He remembered splashing about in the breakwater, careful not to get out of his depth and all the while his mom sat on a towel, her face shaded by a wide brimmed straw hat, dark sunglasses covering her eyes. There had always been a book in her accompanying straw bag along with the towels and their buckets and spades. They'd return back home sandy, sticky from a combination of orange pop, cotton candy and seawater but they'd been happy, heady days. It was a pity they hadn't lasted for long. After that, one day blurred into the next and those days at the beach became a distant but fond memory, one of very few the older he got.
Thank God for the air conditioning of work. He went through the rigours of security before taking the elevator to the eleventh floor. He wondered what would happen today, would his day be taken up with paperwork or would a case drop in their laps. He was still musing over it as the elevator doors slid open and he exited.
Desk fans were going into over drive, trying to keep the temperature at a tolerable level. He walked to his desk and lowered his folder onto its tidy surface. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up. His phone began to ring and so his day began.
Alex Eames took one look at the pure blue sky and thought that it would be so easy to call in sick and just enjoy the sunshine instead. It was no fun being out in this type of weather when rules dictated that as a Major Case cop, she had to be neat, tidy and respectable while on the job. Today was strictly spaghetti strap top and shorts weather; she wondered how her colleagues would react if she showed up in shorts instead of her usual pantsuit. She smiled to herself; it wasn't going to happen. She looked down at her cream coloured trousers with matching jacket, a white cotton t-shirt underneath. She wondered whether it would be so pristine at the end of the day, past experience told her probably not.
Even though the thought of a day off was tempting, she had to be there today. Today was an important day, more important than usual. It was worth navigating through nightmare traffic, it was worth the sounds of blasting car horns and ill temper. Today was a very special day.
Bobby looked up and saw his partner come into view. She looked cool and summery in her light coloured pantsuit; it accentuated the caramel highlights in her hair. Her smile was brief but there was a sparkle in her eyes that held his attention slightly longer than usual. He watched her shrug off her jacket, just as he'd done an hour ago and sit down in her usual seat.
She noticed his slightly distracted air throughout the day. It wasn't noticeable to anyone else but she'd worked with him long enough to know when he was off his game and today he was, just a little bit. He'd been like that for a long time now, when dealing with his mother's final illness, the reappearance of his elder brother and the whole Mark Ford Brady affair. That case in particular had bothered him. It had coincided with his mother's death and after that, he'd gone to ground, he'd taken some time off and then disappeared for a while. She knew that he would resurface when he was ready and he had, he'd been back to work a month now but something still wasn't right with him. She hoped that the passage of time would fix that.
The bullpen was empty at this time of the early evening and that was how Bobby preferred it. A few detectives were still at their desks, working their cases but the phones didn't ring so often and for the most part the room was silent. He headed towards his desk and stopped and stared.
His folder had been moved to one side and in its place was a single chocolate cupcake, a small single blue candle, the kind that were reserved for birthday cakes, glowed brightly from its anchor in the frosting. He couldn't help but stare at it in surprise.
"Happy Birthday Bobby" he turned slightly as Alex came into view.
"You…ah…you remembered…"
"I remembered. I also know that you don't like a big fuss" she watched as he walked slowly towards the little cake, his eyes slightly widened. For a couple of minutes he stared at the tiny flame, seemingly hypnotised by it and she wondered yet again what he was thinking about.
"Aren't you going to make a wish?" he started slightly, as if ripped away from whatever memory he'd been locked in.
"I…don't…" his words petered away and instead he shrugged awkwardly.
She didn't need him to complete the line, he didn't believe in wishes. She walked around the desk towards him and stood beside him. She touched his arm.
"Maybe now you should," she informed him and he took a deep shaky breath.
"It's your first birthday without your mom…"
"She never remembered anyway…after she got…sick" Her heart ached at the thought of him as a little boy, his birthday being treated as just another day.
"After a while, I just never…thought about it" he all but whispered. Alex didn't really believe that, everyone remembered his or her birthday. He had just gotten used to other people not thinking about it. It broke her heart all over again.
"Come on Bobby, make a wish and blow out the candle and I'll take you out to dinner, my treat" she told him.
"Maybe I should just let it burn," he murmured. Alex paused and watched the little flame gutter and lengthen. She looked at him.
"Whatever you want to do Bobby" she gently replied. He turned his head and looked at her.
"Give me a few minutes?" after a while she nodded. He watched her retrieve her jacket and her purse and leave him alone.
He returned his attention to the cupcake. Molten wax began to dribble down the side of the candle and soon it'd touch the frosting. He sat down then leaned forwards and blew out the flame. Then he sat back in his seat and watched the thin plume of blue grey smoke curl upwards to dissipate into the atmosphere above his head.
Memories of sitting on a beach, blowing out the single candle of a cupcake birthday cake while his mom and Frank sang a tuneless 'happy birthday' to him. He remembered being six years old and smiling with happiness. He inhaled sharply and realised what he wanted to do.
The beach was deserted at this time of night, the breeze still on the balmy side but made cooler by the sea. Bobby waited as his partner caught up with him, her shoes held carefully in one hand.
"You okay?" he enquired and in the twilight shadows he saw the look that she gave him.
"I can think of better ways to spend a birthday Goren," she muttered, paying attention to where she walked, her footsteps careful and measured. He shook his head slightly and then turned to face the sea, feeling the breeze wash over his face and tease a little at his hair. For the first time in months he began to feel a semblance of peace germinate inside of him. He felt her hand slip into the crook of his elbow and she too faced the water.
"Next year you can take me to dinner" he told her and she rolled her eyes at him in a way that said 'oh really?' and he smiled.
"This year I want to spend it here"
FIN.