DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf, NBCUni and probably several other have rightful claim to most of these characters - not I. Detective Blake Jamison is however, an original character of mine. This disclaimer applies to any and all future chapters in the series...
A/N - A big explanation here... OK. If you've read any of the other stories involving this pairing of Bobby Goren and Blake Jamison you know them as a series of fluffy airy and just fun ficlets. Well, forget everything you've read. I'm starting over. I'm reinventing the wheel. (LOL)
If those stories would be considered Alternate Universe (AU) - I ask that you consider these Parallel Universe (PU) - an unfortunate arrangement of letters, one I'm sure (VD)O could appreciate. The premise of a parallel universe is a little sci-fi, but I assure you the stories are not - at least not any more than any other AU fics.
This is the beginning of a new series of stories similar to the other Bobby and Blake stories, but rather than light, airy fun fan fiction, these will be a bit darker with more angst. They will remain as individual snapshots - moments in time - connected only by the story of Bobby and Blake.
I really hope you like them. I have several of these new 'moments' written and it won't be long before I post another - if you like this one. These are as much fun for me as the other Bobby and Blake are, who I'm not abandoning to write these.
Special thanks to CIFan for being my test subject...
Each 'chapter' will be its own unique story, so please consider leaving feedback or comments for each intallment. As always thanks for reading!
The Gift
The two – one man, one woman – slowly approached her apartment building. "You really didn't have to," Blake commented again, with an awkward laugh. Fifteen minutes earlier, they had left the restaurant where several of her co-workers had taken her out to celebrate her birthday. She was referring to, of course, to Bobby Goren's insistence on escorting her to her door, something she had repeatedly told him was unnecessary.
There really being no good reason to turn down the offer, so she had graciously acquiesced to the polite almost stranger. He may have been a co-worker and fellow detective – and even someone her thoughts had occasionally strayed to, but until this evening they'd scarcely said more than a half dozen words in the more than six months since she'd joined Major Case. To be honest, there was also an element of curiosity at play.
"On the contrary," he replied, "I consider it to be my duty. Even if it were not merely good manners, I promised Eames I'd see you safely home. As much as would I like to pride myself on being a man of my word; the ire and wrath of my partner is by far, the greater of driving forces."
Smiling and nodding her head, "I have noticed that about Alex." She snuck a sidelong glance at her escort and saw the faint curve of a smile. His humor was maybe a little dry, but that was a quality she appreciated.
Wasn't it ironic that, like her, he was not revealing the full truth either?
Yes, he was indeed a man of his word. Integrity was one of the few things 'they' had not managed to strip him of, even during the recent chaotic and fateful days, he managed to hang onto that. His word would retain its value. And yes, as a gentleman, he considered it his duty to see the lady home. Especially, since his presence at her birthday dinner had been foisted upon her, at the last minute - at Eames' instigation.
There was something else. Somehow, he knew that this woman needed to be returned home safely. That her safety was - or would be - of the utmost importance.
How did he know that? And why did he care? He didn't know. But he did.
He had already taken more than a few covert glances at his companion, throughout the evening, trying to discover exactly what it was he was sensing. Certainly there was an attraction, but it was more than that. There was always more, things were never that easy and simple for him.
"Well," he began, with a cheerfulness that felt forced and unfamiliar to his ears, "I hope you weren't too terribly disappointed by the evening. It seemed that there were times when you wanted to be anywhere but there."
She nodded, unsure what the 'correct' answer should be. "It was very nice," she replied, aiming for a level of ambiguity. To offer an enthusiastic and gracious reply, while still suffering from the unease at being in the spotlight all night was a difficult line to walk. "It was very illuminating. And loud."
"It will go down in the annals of history." He wryly commented, before asking, "Illuminating? How so?"
His voice was quite soothing and his demeanor so much more relaxed than she'd ever witnessed before was causing warning bells to go off in her head. She smiled nervously, before replying, "'In the annals of history' that's quite grand for a simple birthday dinner. But illuminating in that, I could never have imagined I knew so many detectives who could sing so horribly. A Karaoke bar of all places, do I really look like someone who 'Karaokes?"
Unable to suppress a soft chortle, he choked out, "Not particularly."
Stopping outside her apartment building, she turned to face the detective she'd barely said two words to, prior to tonight. "Well… this is me. Again, thank you for seeing me home."
"It has been my honor," he demurred, accompanied by a slight bowing of his head. Then he took her fingers, holding them gently and properly between his own for a moment.
"Well, good night then. I'm sure we'll see each other around the squad room soon." She marveled at how small and delicate her hand looked next to his. She wasn't particularly small or delicate. This was another flash of illumination.
"Of that I'm sure. Good night." He stood, watching her as she turned toward the outer door of her apartment building. "Umm…"
She stopped, closing her eyes. She'd prayed to avoid the awkwardness inherent in 'good nights' at the door. Not that this should be an awkward situation – they hadn't been out on a date or anything similar – but still there was something… She plastered a smile on her face, before turning to face him.
Seeing her look back at him expectantly, he hesitated. He quickly gathered his thoughts before he could second-guess himself, he began, "I wanted to say how sorry I am, that … that I didn't know that it was your birthday. How sorry I am that we've barely even spoken since you transferred in."
"Oh…" This was far from what she'd expected. Truthfully, she'd been expecting to ward off an advance. She couldn't honestly admit that it would have been an entirely unwanted advance. There was something… intriguing about Alex's partner. "Ummm, an apology isn't necessary. It… it isn't a big deal. We're all very focused when we're on a case and… and preoccupied. It isn't as if I'd made much effort …" her reply trailed off and she smiled up at him, a genuine smile that came easily, "I'm glad you were able to come tonight."
Once again, it was his turn to be uncomfortable. He averted his eyes and nodded, almost shyly, before looking at her again. "So… so am I." Shifting his weight, he pointed back the way they'd walked, "I really should let you get inside. I'll be going now. Good night again." He continued to shift his weight restlessly for a minute, before nodding as if he'd answered a question he'd posed to himself.
"Good night." She continued to watch as this seemingly internal dialog played out.
Finally deciding on a course of action, he was the one to turn away, leaving her to continue watching him as he walked away through the light and shadows cast by the streetlights, finally receding into the darkness. When she couldn't see him any longer, when his footsteps became lost in the sounds of the city, she turned with a sigh and went into her apartment building.
Early the next morning, she stepped off the elevator on the eleventh floor, already tired. The party had not continued very late, she'd been escorted home by the fairly early hour of 10 pm, but she had been unable to sleep – a combination of circumstances – she rarely slept well when she drank too much, but her thoughts kept returning to her enigmatic escort home. She was aware of some of the trials he had been through in the last year or so. Most everyone in Major Case had at least a passing knowledge of his embattled state. She found it easy to empathize with his seemingly endless escalating tragedies. She found herself chastising herself, "You do not need a project. You do not want to take this on. It is too much."
Rounding the corner into the squad room, she could see that Goren was already presumably already hard at work. Not that she actually saw him working, but he suit jacket hung precisely from the back of his chair. She glanced over to see if Alex was at her desk, directly opposite his. She was and Blake realized that Alex had been watching her, and probably had since she paused and stood staring at her partner's desk. Flustered at having been caught, Blake smiled and waved, before as she continued to her own desk.
Pulling out her chair, she sat, closed her eyes and began a morning ritual. She always took a moment, she needed only a moment or two, to shut off thoughts of her life, block out as much as possible that was her – it was necessary for her to be able to focus on 'the job' - to get into the right mindset to investigate the monstrous evil men – and women could do. Straightening her shoulders, she slowly released the deep breath as she reached for the handle of the desk drawer where she kept her personal things. She froze as she looked into down the drawer. In the spot where she normally dumped her bag, sat a gift-wrapped package. Slowly raising her eyes, she scanned the squad room, looking for anyone who might be paying special attention. She saw no one, though she had her suspicions.
She quickly scooped the package into her tote bag, stood and walked purposefully into the nearest empty interview room. Placing the package on the table, she took a seat in front of it. She was stunned; she was having trouble forming coherent thoughts. Slowly she reached out and caressed the red velvet bow before carefully removing it and easing the black box from its glossy whit wrapping. She was speechless when she saw it. It was a black lacquer keepsake box, with small shaped pieces of inlaid mother of pearl depicting an Asian garden scene. The artistry was remarkable; delicate bonsai trees, imposing pagoda arches providing background details. The foreground featured and a young woman in traditional kimono crossing a small footbridge, across the footbridge waited a young man, arms stretched out in welcome.
Running her palm across its smooth surface, her breath caught in her throat. She didn't think anyone had ever given her such a lovely gift. She lifted the lid and found a small note card with her name on it. Opening the card, her heart skipped a beat, as she read,
"In hope that you will accept this small token I offer - as belated birthday gift - as amends for failing to take the time to get to know you sooner.
Bobby."
He had seen her enter the interview room and presumed she had found the gift. Walking past his desk, he quickly detoured to duck into the adjacent observation room. He watched as she sat staring at the package before sliding it hesitantly and delicately from its wrapping. His confidence rose as he saw a smile begin to play across her lips as she fingered the delicate design on the box's lid. His confidence soared as the smile grew as she read the card. He watched her stand, he watched her begin slowly pacing around the small room, her gaze never leaving the lacquer box. His exhale eased into a relieved sigh. He knew a decision had been made, a decision that allowed him the hope he requested in his note.
He left the observation room, granting her the privacy to gather her composure to face the rest of the day. Back at his desk by the time she exited the interview room, he discretely watched her progress back to her desk. When she had put her things away – just as she'd tried when she first came in – their eyes met across the room. Neither looked away and after several moments there passed a nearly imperceptible nod of her head and a ghost of a smile quirked one corner of her lips.
He was about to push himself up from his chair as Eames came striding into the squad room, blocking their view of the other. "Detective…" she uncannily mimicked Danny Ross's tone and delivery, "the captain wants us in his office for 'a moment'." Bobby collapsed back onto his chair, leaned back to stare up at the ceiling before popping back upright.
"Of course he does. Why wouldn't he?" Bobby exhaled the words with barely concealed sarcasm. He jerked to his feet, eased into his sport coat and followed his partner into the captain's office, all the while sensing a pair of green eyes following his progress from across the room.
More to come...
