Disclaimer:All of the characters are the property of Dick Wolf. I thank him, the writers, the directors and all the great actors who brought them "to life" for our benefit. Any "liberties" I have taken with them stems from my fond admiration (and a few personal quirks I will seek "help" for).
AN: This story is not set within the accepted "canon" for the characters as it is only officially portrayed by the TV series. So I get to "fool around" with them in ways in which they've never been seen, stretching that to the limit and suspending the "reality" that is "fiction" to start with…now there's a contradiction in terms!!!
(And yeah Goren I know the proper word for that is oxymoron…by the way I wish you'd learn to park your car on the drive instead of abandoning it on the front lawn… it wouldn't be so bad if it was our lawn but the neighbours are starting to get angry)
I really, really hate those occasions when the TV networks leave the decision on the storyline to the viewers…it's like letting kids loose in a candy store…
BOBBY'S BLACK EYE
It took Alex Eames about two seconds after Bobby Goren sat down at his desk to notice the black eye he was sporting.
"Bobby!!" she shrieked "What on earth happened to you?"
"It's nothing" he muttered
"Nothing!! Your eye looks like you did ten rounds with Mike Tyson"
"Still got all of both my ears though" Bobby shrugged
"Excuse me?" frowned his partner who clearly didn't know that much about boxing "Should I go get the first aid kit? Maybe you should see a doctor?"
"Don't fuss" he growled "Looks worse than it is"
"So what happened? Were you robbed or carjacked or something?"
Eames was clearly not going to let the matter rest, Goren had suspected she would not and he was ready with an answer. If not a truthful one.
"No. Just a slight misunderstanding in a bar last night"
"I thought you said you were going to the Mets game" her eyes narrowed suspiciously
"And maybe you didn't notice it rained most of last evening Eames" he sighed wondering how many other sports she knew so little about not to know the game would be called off. He'd given up ever hoping she would understand the "shotgun formation" had nothing to do with firearms.
"Oh yeah. So what happened? Had you been drinking?"
Bobby wondered where in his contract with NYPD it said "All female partners are allowed to treat you like they are an over protective mother and you their only child"
"No I was not. This is thanks to some insanely jealous bartender called Tony. He thought I was going too far" Bobby said quickly
"With a woman I suppose?" muttered Eames "What bar was it?"
Bobby sighed, pushed to one side the witness statements he was trying to read and said "The Copacabana"
"The one on 102nd?" his partner asked knowing from her days on the Vice Squad many of the bars in the Five Boroughs and especially the dubious ones.
"Uhuh" he replied "The hottest spot north of Houston. I go for the dancing. You know it's always in fashion with the music"
Eames knew of course he could dance very well and Bobby's Lambada at the Christmas Party one year was still something of a 1PP legend. Just a pity it was a well-endowed young hottie from Payroll he did it with not her. And that her friend Olivia Benson also watching, reckoned it was the closest thing to a "public decency" violation she'd seen since she worked Vice as well. It had not made her feel any better at the time.
"So what did you do to one of the girls to make this Tony so mad Bobby?" she enquired tartly
"I didn't Eames" he replied "I'd barely been escorted to my chair and she…her name was Lola by the way…was doing a merengue or maybe a cha-cha number at the time I got there"
"Amazes me they stay in the costumes" scoffed Eames
"Me too. They are cut rather low and so was hers"
"Down to here?" Eames couldn't help herself but ask as she indicated a point somewhere round her naval.
"Probably lower than that" she moved her hand down as Bobby spoke "Yeah cut down somewhere around there. It was yellow and she had matching feathers in her hair"
"Oh spare me the details Bobby" she snapped"You asked" he said mildly
"So how did this Tony get involved?"
"I called her over Eames" said Bobby "Just to ask for a few tips on my reverse turns"
"Really?" said Eames with a level of passion in her tone of disbelief would do The Copacabana proud.
"Yes really. Next thing I know this guy works the eight until four shift comes sailing across the bar and before I know it punches start flying and somewhere along the line a chair gets smashed in two" said Bobby thinking very fast "Luckily that was as far as it went. And he's not looking like an oil painting either I don't suppose. Or if he is, it's more Jackson Pollack than a Renoir"
"Oh don't get into the art stuff Bobby" muttered Eames "I know nothing about that"
"Nor about Barry Manilow" he murmured
"Excuse me?"
"I said can we get on with some work now?"
"I suppose so"
Bobby sighed in silent relief, as he seemed to have got away with it. Since telling Eames the truth about how he got the black eye would be much, much worse…
D-I-Y/PICK YOUR OWN STORY ENDING FOR HOW BOBBY REALLY GOT HIS BLACK EYE:
Abducted by aliens from the planet Zog he had to effect a daring escape when he realised they wanted to probe him with more than just questions about Earth
Walking into one of his kitchen cupboard doors drunk as a skunk because the Mets just missed a "Wild Card Spot" in the playoffs
Rescuing a sack full of hopelessly cute puppies from the Hudson River
Tripping over some carelessly discarded underwear as he got out of bed with a woman he'd met two hours earlier (possibly at the Copacabana)
His "Complete Works of Shakespeare" slipping from his hand as he took it from the top shelf of his bookcase…just when he was planning a quiet evening in with a nice cup of hot chocolate and only "Romeo and Juliet" for company.
AN:If you want the first option may I respectfully suggest you are in the wrong section of this site…
AN:I have some underwear to mend and need to go out and buy a new bedside table…something rather large fell on it…