Peanuts

A/N: This is from an LJ challenge. 100 words, the prompt is "smooth". My brain spun a story, so each blip is 100 words. I started to post chapter by chapter, but took it down and have now posted them all together. Sorry for the false start.


Saturday, late afternoon

"So, are we gonna get outta here on time?" CSU officers Brown and Schroeder were logging evidence in the lab.

"No chance. Major Head Case from Major Case is all over this one. He's always squeezing us, marking every damn thing urgent."

Brown scowled, it was Saturday night and he had been looking forward to banging his girlfriend Violet.

"I need that report on the blanket fibers." Bobby Goren stood in the doorway to the lab. "Maybe you can squeeze it in before someone dies." Bobby added, making it crystal clear he had heard everything.

"Smooth." Brown mumbled to Schroeder.


Sunday, very early morning (more like "sat night")

Bobby Goren swallowed the last of his drink. He knew that the key to the case was that blanket. He had to connect the blanket to the Van Pelt toddler. He was frustrated that the blanket fibers had come back inconclusive. The CSU guys were in a hurry to get home, he figured maybe they had missed something. He planned to have the blanket reanalyzed in the morning. The morning was several hours away. So, he stopped to grab a drink on his way home. The first drink had smoothed away the day, the next few smoothed away everything else.


Monday, morning

Bobby splashed cold water on his face. Things were not going smoothly. He wasn't on the favorites list with CSU, so Sunday he had convinced Eames to do the dirty work in terms of convincing CSU to reanalyze the blanket. He knew the well loved little blue blanket belonged to the boy. He closed his eyes, his mind crowded with images of the Van Pelt toddler. In his gut, he knew there was a chance the toddler was still alive. He needed that evidence. If he had that, he had what he needed to get the search warrant on Thibault.


Tuesday, morning

Two blue blankies.

Again, CSU had come back with inconclusive findings about the blanket, so Bobby had gone to the toddler's home to look around. The mom had sustained serious injuries during the attack. She was hanging on in ICU, but not yet conscious. In searching the mom's room, Bobby had found an identical little blue blankie. The mom had lovingly made two, so she could do the smooth switcheroo and keep the blankies clean. Bobby held the soft lovey in his hands. He had what he needed. CSU could connect this blanket with the one they took from Thibault.


Wednesday, almost midnight

Bobby pressed Thibault against the wall, his hand around Thibault's throat, his thumb pressing hard against Thibault's jugular.

"Tell me where he is." Bobby ground out the words.

"In heaven, with all of the other good little boys." Thibault choked out. Eames pulled Bobby off the suspect.

"Smooth." Eames mumbled under her breath as she pushed her large partner out of the interview room.

"I know where he is." Bobby said, surprising Eames. Bobby was convinced that Thibault was keeping the toddler in the belfry of the church where he worked. The ceiling of the belfry was painted like heaven.


Thursday, very early morning (just after midnight on Wednesday)

"Oh honey, I've got you, I've got you." In his heart, Bobby had been right - the toddler was still alive. Alex Eames held the little Van Pelt boy close, her voice a smooth soft whisper in his ear. Eames had thought to bring the blankie with her. The toddler held it fiercely in his hands. On the way to the church, they received news from the hospital that the mom was beginning to come around. As he stood watching Eames hold the little boy, Bobby's mouth went dry. It wasn't often that a case ended with no one dead.


Friday, close to midnight

Bobby ordered a drink at the bar. He let the smooth scotch slide down his throat. He thought about the case, about the Van Pelt toddler safe with his mother. He thought about how even when things seemed to end well, he ended up back in the same place. He remembered Brown and Schroeder referring to him as the Major Head Case of Major Case. He knew it was the head case part of himself that enabled him to be good police, but he also knew it was the head case part of himself that had him ordering another drink.


A/N: My muse has been sad... so Bobby is sad. Though, the scene with Bobby pressing Thibault against the wall... well, that to me is just hot (I can be twisty that way).