Author's Note: So, Nancy T wrote a story that kind of made me think "what if". (She put Eames in a different life). I of course would like to play with everyone, well mainly Bobby. Oh, and my very many apologies to ethelbertina - I stole her title and and didn't even realize it :(... I am really horrified. (I altered my title a bit). Ethelbertina's fiction also puts our lovely LOCI case of characters into different roles.
The L&O characters are borrowed. The OC Lucy Jones is from some of my prior writing. I think one of these stories deserves a shout out to the people behind Criminal Minds.
The premise: I am attracted to the idea that the same souls serve the same basic purpose in each other's lives, no matter the course of the actual life. So, I'm playing around with their jobs and how the circumstances of their life may have changed some things about them - but I will try to maintain some basic attractions and interactions.
Each chapter is a glimpse into a different possible existence for Bobby.
Crash
Academic
Habit
I hope you enjoy reading them.
Crash
Bobby Goren sat in his police issue vehicle, drinking a gigantic big gulp of soda. He was bored. Everyone seemed to think police work was a lot of running around and shooting. In reality, police work was a lot of sitting around and waiting. He was a narcotics detective, and today was a lot of sitting around drinking large caffeinated beverages.
"Goren, anything?" His partner slid onto the seat beside him. He liked Cyrus Lupo well enough, he was funny, smart, turned a blind eye when a blind eye was needed.
"Nothing." Bobby replied, setting the now empty soda aside. They had been sitting on some guy's place for the past 4 hours.
"Wait," Lupo said, adjusting the mirror in the car. "Something." Lupo said, and they could see their guy walking up the block with what looked to be a bag of groceries. They waited until the guy passed by their vehicle, then they quietly got out and fell into step behind him. They guy made them in like 2 seconds, and then in the next 4 minutes there was some running, no shooting, and they had the guy face first on the sidewalk cuffing him and reading him his rights. So, 4 hours of waiting ended up in a 4 minute dash.
"Got any plans tonight?" Lupo asked, after they had gotten the information they needed from the guy and processed him through booking.
"Nope." Bobby replied, but that wasn't entirely the truth.
"Anyway," Lupo replied. "tomorrow." Lupo took off. Bobby stopped by the locker room area the change into a clean shirt. He tucked in his dark t-shirt and refastened his jeans. He was thinner now than he had been a year ago, he thought that he might need new jeans. But he shrugged it off and tightened his belt. He stopped in the rest room and deftly downed some prescription pain meds. He had been on them a while back for an injury and found that he had never come off them. He was never high on duty, but he did find himself looking forward to the end of shift.
He glanced at his watch as he rang the building security buzzer. It was just after midnight. "Hey, let me up." He said, when he heard the click of the intercom. A moment later he heard the buzz as the lock released.
"Hey." She answered the door, she was only wearing an old NYPD t-shirt.
"Hey Alex." Bobby said, with his lopsided smile. She was a petite, feisty brunette who was a detective in Vice. She didn't talk much, and he liked that about her. What she did say was usually brutally sarcastic, and he liked that as well. He reached out for her, grabbing her to him, pulling her head back with her hair, kissing her deeply, hungrily. She yielded to him instantly, familiar with the routine, familiar with him.
"We don't have much time, Joe should be home about 2:00am." She whispered, referring to her husband.
"I don't need much time." Bobby kicked the door closed behind him.
"Neither do I." Alex scratched her finger nails down his back, wrapping her legs up and around him as he crushed her backward against the wall in the hallway. They had sex right there in the hallway, with her pressed up against the wall, her legs wrapped around him. He ran his hand down the sweaty valley between her breasts, kissing the salty sweetness of her neck. "I think I'm going to need a new t-shirt." She said, as he set her onto her feet in the hall.
When she returned he was in the kitchen retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge. "Were you asleep?" He asked, wondering if he had woken her up when he rang the buzzer.
"No." She drank some of his water, watching him leaning against her kitchen counter. "You look thin." She remarked. He took the water bottle back from her and finished it. He had met her a few months ago, on a joint operation. The attraction was immediate. It was as if they had known each other forever. The case they were working went like a breeze, they had a connection, a way of communicating where they did not need words. He thought that she would make an excellent partner. But she was in Vice, with no interest in leaving. So, after the case was closed, they formed a partnership of another nature. He wondered sometimes if this was the first time she had cheated on her husband. But other times he realized that he didn't really care.
"I should go." He said.
"Yeah, you should." She smiled, kissing him on his ear, running her tongue against his earlobe. "You have my number, right?" She teased him, letting him know it was OK to do this again, anytime.
"Yeah, I do." He grabbed her again, kissing her roughly on her collar bone. And then he left her place.
Bobby was in no mood to go home and go to bed, he was too wired. So he went to a favorite place and ordered a double scotch, neat.
"Thanks Mike." Bobby said, downing the amber liquid in a single swallow. Mike Logan owned the place and typically tended the bar. At one time he had been a detective at the 2-7, but he'd lost his temper and punched some VIP, which got him bounced out of Manhattan. Logan had tried to make it on the Island, but ended up leaving the force and opening a most excellent bar, mostly frequented by cops. Bobby looked around, a bit surprised to see Joe Dutton having a beer with his partner. Bobby thought that he could have stayed with Alex a bit longer, seeing as her husband was here at Mike's bar. Bobby signaled for another. Mike refilled his glass. Bobby downed that in a single swallow as well. "You got anything for a headache?" Bobby asked.
"I think I just gave it to you." Mike replied, referencing the scotch, making his way down the bar toward another customer. Bobby reached in his pocket, thinking abut the pounding beginning in his head, and pulled out some Tylenol. He thought differently before taking it, and decided on the prescription med instead. He stayed for one more drink and settled his tab. When he stood, he stood slowly, letting the room catch up with his rapidly slowing senses.
He thought maybe his brain was slowing down enough that he could grab some sleep. He was just headed out of the bar when Joe Dutton and his partner came out behind him.
"Goren." Dutton said. "Has any one ever told you that you smell like my wife?" Dutton hit Bobby in the face so hard, with such surprise, Bobby slammed backward into the brick building behind him. He was high and drunk and completely lost his balance, so his head bashed into the wall and he could feel the blood running down onto his shirt.
"Holy shit Joe, what the hell." Dutton's partner exclaimed, completely taken by surprise. People were pouring out of the bar, someone had called for an ambulance.
When Bobby came to, he was on his back on a stretcher, wheeling down the hall. The warm blood from the wound on his head had turned cold, he was cold. From the lights on the ceiling he knew he was in the ER. He was trying to stay awake, stay alert. Someone was asking him to stay conscious.
"Detective." She was saying. "Robert Goren, Bobby, stay with me." She said, someone had told her his name. She was leaning over him, looking into his eyes. He opened his eyes to look at her; he focused on her molasses colored curls, on her darkly lashed eyes. She was looking at him, into his eyes, he felt like she was looking into his soul. "Bobby, stay with me." She said, her voice soft, imploring. He looked at her ID, Lucy Jones, Dr. Lucy Jones, an ER doctor. She leaned forward to look at his head wound, to again look at his eyes, she was balancing herself by lightly touching his chest. He realized it felt like she had one of her hands on his heart. "Stay with me." She said, one last time, just before he blacked out.
Author's Note: Remember, the next chapter is a totally different story... So, re-open your brain :)
