One-shot post-ep to "In The Wee Small Hours"

A/N: I'm not sure up to what point this fic makes sense. I jut had to write this, and I really wish you'd tell me what you REALLY think about it. I can take harsh reviews, but I'm working on something else, so any kind of review will be highly appreciated.

Anyone Else

By Caia.

Anyone would have thought he was crazy. Everyone already did, but this, this would have sent him to a psychiatric hospital for sure. That's why he left those conversations for when he was completely alone, in his apartment, looking out the window while sitting in the dark, or lying in bed, also in the dark.

"It's just, sometimes I just want to hold her, or to tell her how I feel. I mean, I know we work together, and we can't be together, and it would probably kill me to know she doesn't feel the same way about me, or even worse, that she does and we can't have a relationship..."

"No-one said it was easy, Bobby."

"Oh, like I don't know that!"

"And yet, you're here, talking to yourself, trying to do what exactly?"

"Clear my head, thank you very much."

"Ok."

"I love her, and I can't tell her... I couldn't even explain why I was lucky when she withdrew the letter. I was lucky because she had stayed, because I needed her, not because it could have ruined my career, not particularly anyway, I was lucky because she stayed, because I had her for another 4 years... I couldn't even tell her that, I just said I was lucky, she must have thought 'Yeah, I could have ruined you're career,' but it wasn't what I'd meant, it wasn't!"

"You were lucky."

"Yes, I was, and I couldn't even tell her that. It's frustrating, it really is; I hate it."

"So you can tell her tomorrow."

"It won't be the same as if I had said it today."

"It'll be better than not saying it at all, though."

"I guess."

"You guess? Come on, is that all you can come up with?"

"Fine, fine. I'll tell her tomorrow, in the morning. No."

"No?"

"I'll tell her in the afternoon, when we're out of the office, when we're done with work, when it's over..."

"So what... so that she doesn't spend the day thinking about what you meant? You'll spend the whole day acting weird, especially around her, and she'll be thinking about something else anyway."

"I wish. You really think she worries that much about me..."

"She does. You saw how upset she was when she had to read that letter, you saw it, please don't tell me that you don't believe she really cares about you."

"So when am I supposed to tell her, then? If I tell her in the morning she'll spend the day thinking about what I said, and if I tell her later she'll spend the day thinking about what's wrong with me, that's what you're saying, right? So what the hell am I supposed to do?" Bobby said, raising his voice ever so slightly.

He was still talking to no-one. Well, he was talking to himself, or with himself if that made any sense.

"Call her now."

"It's late; I can't just call her now!"

"Yes, you can. Just pick up the phone and dial. And then tell her, and explain. Tell her everything you've been going over tonight, every word you said, every-everything. Just call her and talk to her."

Bobby gave in... "I should start taping this conversations, it'd be so much easier to just give her a tape for her to listen to than for me to say it all over again... Besides, she could stop the tape whenever she wanted and..." Bobby trailed off when the phone started ringing on the other end.

"Eames," she answered.

"Hey, it's me."

"Bobby?"

"Yeah, I need to say something, so just, please, please just listen..."

Silence followed. She was listening.

"Ok," he continued, "I got home tonight and started talking to myself... my other self won so I had to call you tonight."

"You're other self? Bobby, what's this-"

"No, please, just let me finish. I'm not sure you'll understand that about my other self, but just let me... just let me talk."

Again, silence.

"Okay, so as I was saying, I had to call you. See, I started talking about, about what happened this afternoon." He had really started talking about how he felt towards her, but he was going to leave that particular conversation for some other day. "The letter I mean. No, no, not really. Damn it! I was talking about how I should have elaborated when I told you I was lucky," he said in a rush. "What I meant to say is that I was lucky because you stayed, because..."

He allowed a soft breath to escape as he started telling her what he had meant. And then when he was finally over with that, when she barely whispered his name, he went on to explain that about his other self and how anyone would have thought he was really crazy...

And he was relieved. He was talking to her, really talking to her. And she didn't think he was crazy.