Crossing a Line
by LMR
Disclaimer: No ownership was infringed, and no imaginary children were harmed: He was just a teensy bit shaken, he'll be back to normal in no time, I promise.
Summary: "Robert Goren, you buzz me in right now because... your neighbors are going to call the police, and if anyone from our precinct hears what I've got to say, we'll both be in trouble!" K plus for mild sexuality.
A.N.: It starts out a bit angsty. Just hold on through the first couple paragraphs. It's fluff, I swear.
xXx
The child's name had been Nathan, and that was why she'd spent the whole day teetering dangerously on the verge of tears. "I'm going to get some coffee," Bobby explained quietly across the desks before heading to the breakroom. Alex sat a moment, holding her face in her hands and wishing she didn't feel so helpless. Dealing with any young victim was harrowing...
I could use some of that coffee myself.
Collecting herself as best she could, she pulled herself up out of her chair, headed toward the breakroom, and nearly smashed head-on into her partner, carrying two full mugs and about a dozen sugar packets. "I wanted some coffee," she explained lamely.
"I, um..."
She smiled weakly. "Of course you did." She licked her lips nervously, looking down at the grungy tiled floor. "I'm sorry," she said with a wavering voice. "I can't let my... I mean, cases aren't supposed to get..." She took in a shuddering breath, bracing herself on the counter. "I know it's no worse than any other child just because of..." By now she had given up the pretense of not crying in front of Bobby. I'm a woman cop getting teary over a case. Perfect!
This isn't how I'm supposed to act!
Bobby had already abandoned the mugs on the counter next to them. He felt the tears through his shirt as he held her, brushing his hand through her hair, not bothering to say all the cooing, comforting, and completely useless words that most people whisper at such times. He rubbed a hand against her back, willing his strength to move into her.
At their heights, the top of Alex's head was hovering right around his mouth. He kissed her lightly a few times on her hairline.
But that's when she'd backed away from him, looking up at him with a serious expression, and for once, he couldn't read it.
Oh, what the hell did I just do?!
Now it was Bobby who found the floor inordinately interesting. He refused to look up at her as he mumbled an apology. "That was inappropriate and disrespectful and I'm sorry," he finished formally.
And naturally, he looked up just in time to see a look of shocked hurt on her face. "Call me if you need anything," he whispered, starting to touch her arm, then thinking better of it. "Good night."
xXx
He'd gotten to 'azure' when he heard the tap on his window. He returned to the volume. "A light purpl-" Tap. "-ish-" Tap. "blu-" Tap.
He gently slid a bookmark between the pages and closed the book, setting it on the floor with a light 'thud.'
Tap.
He walked to the window, and parted the curtains, separating the blinds with his fingers. It was Eames. He couldn't see her face at the moment, as she was three stories below him. And because she was bending down to pick up another pebble. He opened the window just enough to talk. She stood, and dropped her tiny acquisition when she saw his face. She momentarily brightened, then, realizing that she still had work to do, put her hands on her hips and stared him down. "Robert Goren you buzz me in right now!"
"Eames, what are you doing here?" he called down wearily.
"We have to talk, Bobby! Let me in!" Her voice had made a compromise somewhere between angry and pleading.
He paused. I did offer to talk about the case if she needed it, and if she does need it, I want to be there for her. I have to be there for her. But she probably wants to talk abo-
"You think too much!" She called in answer. "Let me in!" Her arm swung again.
"Ow!" This last projectile had hit him square on the nose. "Look, if this is about the case, then you know, I... Look, maybe this isn't a good time. You're obviously angry, maybe lat-"
"I'm angry because you're not letting me in! Let's fix that!"
"But, Eam-"
"You have to let me in..." she fumbled for a reason. "Because if I have to shout up at your window, your neighbors are going to call the police, and if anyone from our precinct hears what I've got to say, we'll both be in trouble!"
"Don't yell anything that you're going to be sorry for!" he called back. 'Death threats' comes to mind.
"Don't make me," she said, and there was a sad honesty in her voice that gave him pause. He understood then that if he didn't let her in, she really was going to yell herself hoarse. She was hurt and determined, stubborn as a mule, and she'd stay out there all night.
He closed the window and walked away.
He had only just let his hand fall from the entry button when Eames knocked on his door. He took a deep breath, held it a moment, then let it out with a 'here goes nothing' huff.
He opened the door, and received a "thank you" that sounded more or less like it had come from someone who had just been passed the salt. A look of startlement crossed her face, giving way to a guilty expression. "I forgot to ask...
"Is this a good time?"
Goren laughed for the first time that day. "I got so carried away with the whole... I just forgot..." She put her forehead in her hand and moaned.
"It's okay!" he said quickly. "I was just reading." He gestured to the sofa and the book on the floor next to it.
She moaned again. "Oh, Bobby, when I tell my friends you read the dictionary for fun, I thought I was exaggerating."
"Not fun," he said closing the door. "Sometimes when I get stres-" Probably shouldn't finish that sentence. "I'm afraid to ask what else you tell your friends," he mumbled.
"Boasting, mostly. Can I sit down?" She said this matter of factly, continuing before he had a moment to digest the gravity of what she'd said.
"Um." She took this as a yes, and gestured for him to sit as well. He did, reluctantly, doing his best to keep as much distance as was possible on a loveseat. It had to be a loveseat, didn't it?
"I'd like to know why you felt it necessary to apologize for hugging me," she said simply.
He looked at the square inch of tapestry that he could see between them as if he'd never noticed it before. "You were feeling vulnerable, and I... I took advantage. I touched you inappropriately." He thought about this for a moment. "I sexually harassed you," he said as though he had just come to this dreadful realization.
Eames made a noise beside him and he forced his eyes to meet hers, only to find she was making a determined effort not to laugh. "Why on earth would you think-"
"Well," he struggled for a suitable answer. One that doesn't involve my admitting that I paid nearly as much attention to the way you felt than the way you were feeling"I never would have done that if it were a man."
"First of all, Bobby, that's bull. I've seen you with your friends: You're too big a man to worry about sanctions like that. And second, that's not what sexual harassment means, and you of all people know that." She looked at him, and could tell he wasn't buying it. "Fine. Do this the hard way," she grumbled.
She hefted the huge volume onto her lap. "S. E. X..." A look of worry crossed Bobby's face. "U. A... Okay, here:
"Secs-too-al-hah-rass-ment-or-hare-is-ment-if-you-are-a-snob," she enunciated, as if she'd read the whole thing.
"Unwelcome advances, requests for sexual favors, and other verbal or physical conduct of a sexual nature, when submission to or rejection of this conduct explicitly or implicitly blahbity, blah, blah, blah. There." She slammed the book shut. "What part of that applies to what happened earlier? If somebody who didn't know us at all had seen that, they might have thought you were my brother. There was nothing sexual about it at all.
"And... and 'unwanted!?' That was exactly what I needed." She squeezed his hand. "Thank you, by the way," she said seriously. "I would have told you if you hadn't up and started apologizing on me." She paused in thought. "Do you remember the first thing I ever said to you?"
Huh? "Um, 'hello,' I think," he replied, not sure what to make of the nonsequiter.
She smiled. "After that."
"You promised that if I ever hit on you," he said, understanding. "That I would be able to locate choice parts of my anatomy across state lines."
"That's right. Now, if you had done anything that upset me, do you really think I wouldn't have told you immediately?" She was touching his arm now and lightly running her thumb over the fabric of his shirt. He understood and appreciated the gesture. You're allowed to touch me.
It was a message of trust. So why does it have to be giving me such untrustworthy thoughts?
"I don't know about 'telling me,' but I think you'd have made it known, yeah." He was starting to relax, even allowing himself to look at her occasionally. Yup, still aggravatingly beautiful.
"I'm sorry, by the way. I stereotyped you; misjudged you. I assumed because you were a man, you were going to disrespect me. I assumed you were a sleazebag, and I'm sorry for that. I couldn't have been more wrong.
"So you know everything's fine, right?" She jostled his knee, a further attempt to break down a physical barrier.
"Yeah, 'course." He furrowed his brow. "You said we'd get in trouble if the other cops heard. What...?"
Her manner changed completely. She shifted in the seat, turning the front of her body away from him just a fraction. She refused to look at him. "Oh, I just wanted you to open the door: I just said whatever came to mind."
"Eames, you know I can read you, now what were you talking about?"
"Nothing. And if we're okay, I think I should go now." She stood.
"Please, Eames. I'm just going to stay uncomfortable if you don't tell me what that was about." His insides were squirming. Had she been thinking about asking for a new partner?
She sighed, looking almost forlorn. "You're not going to drop it, are you?" He shook his head. She fell back into her seat beside him. "Fine. I've been held like that a million times by brothers, friends, my old man. No man would ever think that kind of touching was crossing a line...
"Unless it was a line he wanted to cross," she finished quietly.
He stood. "You were right.
"Maybe you should go."
"Oh, please, Bobby, just tell me! Tell me it's not true. Tell me I'm delusional. Yell at me. Just say something."
"Eames, we're not talking about this. We're fine. Nobody's mad. Just drop it."
"No. You have romantic feelings for me."
"Eames."
"It's done. I said it. I won't take it back, so just tell me." He didn't budge. "You have feelings for me," she reiterated.
"I would never do anything to jea-"
"I didn't ask what you would do. I asked what you feel." She stayed on the loveseat, stretched out now that she had it to herself.
"I don't want to tell... I can't..."
"I'm sorry," she said, blazé. "Did you somehow miss the subtle note of glee in my voice just then?"
"No, I- what?" He dared to look at her.
She looked back at him, smiling lightly. "Honestly, Bobby. You could do brain surgery after reading about it in the encyclopedia, but when it comes to women, you need a tactile demonstration." She stood, faced him, reaching. Waiting for him to-
He's not going to help me with this. She gave a 'humph' of mild indignation, and pushed the dictionary to his feet. She delicately stepped up onto it. "Much better." Her arms were convenient shoulder height now, and she reached them up around him as she closed the distance to his mouth. She kissed him very gently at first, still somewhat afraid that she'd misjudged his answer or lack thereof.
Hmm. Okay, apparently I was right about the...ohhhh. And no more coherent thoughts were forthcoming.
"So now what?" she wondered, after a minute. "A relationship with someone you work with... about as dumb as it gets. A partner, that's beyond the realm of dumb." She looked him in the eye. "And somehow I don't care."
"You think it would be worth it?" he asked, barely daring to believe that any of this was happening. She nodded, inquiring.
"Yes," he answered. "But exactly how much of a relationship are we talking about?"
"You're going to make me say all the scary stuff, aren't you?" She looked down at the dictionary she was still standing on, forced herself to look in his eyes when she finally said it. "I love you."'
His relief was evident. "Yes," he answered, finally not tripping over his words. "I love you."
"And Bobby," she said, leaning into him. "You can quit it with the stealth sniffs. You can go ahead and purposely smell me now, 'k?"
xXx
Credit to Natasha Bedingfield, as it's based on her song 'Stumble', which no one will recognize except PomKat. Go read PomKat's songfic 'Stumble'. Go faster! After you review!