A drabble that came to me one day when i was reading something else. Disclaimer...he doesn't belong to me, though i know i'm not alone when i say, i wish that he did. But the character of Robert Goren belongs to Dick Wolf and associated people. Please read and review, all thoughts appreciated :) The pairing...well i'll leave that up to you to work out, though it's not too hard to figure out. I'm not a shipper, this just fit, i thought.
Tall.
According to his personnel file, Robert Goren was six feet four inches tall. He also had size thirteen feet and really big hands. He'd been oblivious to the size of his hands until one day a girlfriend pointed the fact out to him and when she compared her own delicate digits to his, he realised that she was, in fact, correct. He did have really big hands…. then she'd whispered in his ear about what they said about big hands and he swore he went an interesting shade of pink and Bobby Goren didn't do pink. Not as a rule anyway.
Being this tall had its advantages. On the job, people always looked twice at him. In life they always looked twice at him and sometimes that puzzled him. Was it down to his height or was it down to something else? He liked the subtle warning that it gave to suspects, lie to me and I'll stomp on you like a bug. What they didn't need to know was that he was more the type of guy to rescue a spider from a bathtub sandwiched between a sheet of paper and a glass than actually step on it. But he looked physically intimidating enough in that he just might. He wondered if he scared people by being this tall. His scowl could intimidate the hardiest of souls so he'd been told but then again, he hadn't yet visited a grocery store yet when someone more than a foot smaller than he was, hadn't nervously asked him to retrieve an item from the unreachable top shelf. And of course he always obliged.
People remembered Bobby Goren. He was 'that big detective', 'that tall guy' or 'the tall cop', nobody forgot him. The name might raise a question but as soon as the height was mentioned, then he was remembered and not always with a smile.
Then again, being this tall hadn't always been advantageous. He remembered how his mom had looked at him when he'd outgrown another pair of jeans barely two months after buying them. She would look at him and slowly shake her head. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't his fault that he was still growing; it wasn't as though he could stop it happening even though he'd often wished that he could.
His dad had taunted him about his height and the associated clumsiness, how that loose-limbed aura that all growing teenaged boys possessed could be a life or death mission for the poor unsuspecting soul. Even now, it made him uncomfortable. It was why he folded his arms in a busily furnished room. Yeah, it helped with the subtle intimidation techniques he had developed over time, but he was also terrified of knocking something valuable flying with the unexpected flail of an arm. It had happened before. And then when the feet started to catch up, oh God, he had just wanted to die. If there was a hole, he would fall into it, he lost count of how many times he tripped on a kerb or missed a step and almost went sprawling. It wasn't fun having size thirteen feet…even saying it was horrendous…who the hell had size thirteen feet??? Nobody he knew.
Like most kids his age, he'd tried to hide his true height, wanting to fit in with his classmates but he'd never quite succeeded. He'd taken to slouching, keeping his eyes on the ground and his shoulders slumped until his basketball coach reminded him that being as tall as he was could also be beneficial. It was about then that he started to wonder whether being excessively tall was indeed a blessing or a curse.
His mom thought that he would never stop growing and he'd had nightmares of being beanstalk tall with the rest of the population scuttling around his ankles like little ants. Thankfully he stopped at six four. He was sixteen years old and six feet four inches. He'd overtaken his dad, his brother as well as his mom and felt awkward, gigantic and unattractive, never mind super clumsy. He even remembered how the school nurse had looked at him, having to stand on a chair to measure his height correctly. He had been made to feel like a freak of nature.
To feel less clumsy, he'd taken dancing lessons and had surprised himself by finding an aptitude for it. He had fully expected to be in possession of two left feet but no, it turned out that he had a left and right just like everyone else. He realised that he could tune into the music being played, feel comfortable with whomever he was partnered with, and just move. It bolstered his confidence when he became the most popular dance partner at the lessons. He kept those lessons at the back of his mind and applied them to his every day life and gradually the clumsiness faded away though it had the occasion to remind him of its presence every now and again, like for example, he still tripped on a kerb five times out of ten.
Tall also equalled expensive. When was the last time he'd found something in his size that was in a sale? Close to never! His suits were off the peg and literally cost him an arm and a leg but they were a necessity of his job and he appreciated the cut of a well fitting suit so he chalked it down to one of life's irritating necessities. He was tall therefore he was expensive. At least now he had stopped growing, six four was tall enough thank you very much.
He also discovered that women loved his height and it may have been partially down to what that girlfriend had whispered in his ear back then. He tended to think stuff like that was all just a fairytale or certainly wishful thinking on someone's behalf. He'd had no complaints though so who knew? It wasn't something he spent hours contemplating. Well maybe a few minutes but definitely not hours. He was a big guy myth or no myth.
"Someone is over thinking …again" he turned his head and looked at her over one shoulder. Honey brown eyes smiled familiarly into his and a slow one of his sneaked out in response.
"You can read my mind now, huh?" his voice turned husky, watching as she shifted across the bed to sit beside him.
"It's not too difficult when you start glaring at your feet like they've grown another three inches" she responded, her voice never rising above a sweet seductive whisper. She moved closer and that set off a slow pound in his chest and instantly his meandering, questioning thoughts ceased to be. She laid her hand on his thigh.
"For the record, yes I can read your mind and I like you just the way you are" she was so close now that as he gently inhaled, he caught a tantalising drift her perfume.
"And you know what they say about guys with big feet now, don't you?"
Robert Goren just smiled.