One Too Many

Every once in a while, Bobby and Eames found great pleasure in relaxing at the local cop bar with some choice companions. It was never considered a good time unless Ed Greene, Lennie Briscoe, Olivia Benson, Alex Cabbot, Elliot Stabler, and Ritchie were there. Though Bobby and Eames were certainly not "in," they weren't outcasts either. Their skills on the beat were appreciated, and they knew how to have a good time. Often though, it got a bit out of hand, and when Bobby opened the door to who in the force would you have sex with, she knew he'd had a few too many.

"Oof," said Briscoe. "I'd go with Shelbie Vickers in Vice, I guess."

"What, her? I'm not saying," Ed looked quickly at the women at the table, "that looks should be everything, but they gotta count for sumpin—Oh, come on!" as the women berated him.
"Ladies, laidies, let Briscoe at least explain himself," drawled Stabler with a sloshed grin.

"Phew," said Olivia waving her hand in front of her face.

"It's simple," explained Goren, "Vickers has been married three times already. About Briscoe's count I believe; she wouldn't be looking for anything from him."

"So that's what it's like being profiled," mused Briscoe, giving Bobby the nod of a perfect shot. "So, what about you, big man?"

"Oh, I think I'd like to make it with another profiler. But I haven't found one I really like."

Ed Green waved a finger at him. "No, bro, you gotta say someone real, someone we all know. Your game, you gotta 'fess up."

"Fine, fine." He thought about it. "I guess if it's a matter of more than sex, I'd like to get to know Rodgers a bit better."

Briscoe nodded again. "Good choice, I took her to the opera one time. One of my top ten dates."

"It would be interesting to get her out of her lab, see what she's like as a person," mused Eames.

Alex Cabot gazed lazily at her, saying "Is that your pick, too, Eames?

"Oh, GOD," shrieked Olivia, "you could have a threesome with Bobby!" She and Cabot howled with drunken laughter.

Elliot waved the waitress. "These two," he said, "will be having sodas for the rest of the night."

"How about you Stabler?" asked Greene.

Sorry, I'm happily married."

"C'mon, no one's that happy. It won't kill your marriage."

"Fine, fine, I pick that one brunette lab tech who wears the thongs, what's her name?"

"Mariska. Pretty girl," said Olivia.

"She's got good taste in clothes. Do you find yourself—" she looked at Olivia. "—Do you find yourself leaving her lab wondering what you'd look like in those skirts of hers?"

Goren looked at Stabler. "So what do you do when Olivia gets this way?"

"I think about football."

Olivia said, "I do believe they're complaining about ush, Eamesh."

"Why," Eames said, pretending surprise, "I think you're right."

"So Eames," Elliot leaned over the table at Bobby's partner.

"Who would you do?"

"I'm gonna need some courage for this." She gulped the rest of her bourbon, and said boldly, "Van Buren."

And all conversation stopped.

"One: we're both females in a male environment. Second: if it got serious I think we'd really have a lot in common. Third," she finished, ticking off her fingers, "We're both snarky and we'd either love that or hate it."

"I didn't know you thought both ways," said Bobby in amazement. Then the whole table exploded, some folks louder than others. Though it had not been a game until then, it was decided silently that Eames had won, and the subject moved to safer topics.

And Bobby and Eames forgot all about it the next day. Until.

"Bobby, paperwork like this needs to be done in triplicate, I've told you before, but do you listen? Are you listening now?" She saw him zipping and unzipping his binder, and gave up in disgust, walking towards the captain's office.

"Detective Eames!"

She whirled around as a familiar voice sent waves of horror through her. "Luh-Leautinant Van Buren! What are you doing here?"

"Came over from the two-seven. This case got kicked over to you by the Commissioner. I thought I'd get it to your captain personally.

"Oh! Well, that was-was . . ."

"I thought I'd get a little exersize." She looked at Eames closely. "A bit too much blush this morning Detective Eames?"

"Oh, yeah," Eames answered, recovering finally.

Van Buren walked away leaving Eames red-faced, and her partner too, his lips like a thin red line and his shoulders heaving with laughter.
"Shut up," she said to him, "Just. . . shut up!"