Disclaimer: All Law and Order stuff is the property of Dick Wolf, so please don't sue. (But Lila Fulton is mine! Eat that NBC!)
A/N: I plan on alternating between Bobby's POV and Alex's between chapters, so you can get a glimpse into both of their heads. I'm gonna try to keep this light and not too angst-y.
Also, this is my first ever fanfic, so don't be too brutal when you review!
"I just don't get it, Detective Goren," Fulton said. "How do you catch so many of these guys? You pick up every little detail and automatically know what it means. It's like you were there, like you saw the whole thing."
I looked up at the newbie detective and wondered why she was now sitting on my desk. It was only Lila Fulton's third day in the MCS and she had already made a pass at basically every detective under 60. I guess it was my turn now.
"Anyway, Bobby- it's alright if I call you Bobby, isn't it?- you wanna grab a drink with me after work? Me and some other detectives are going to that place O'Halloran's once we get out of here and I'd love it if you joined us." She gave me what I assume was a failed attempt at doe-eyes and smiled. Unfortunately for her, I was never one to fall for the overly flirtatious act.
"I can't. I, uh,…I told Deakins I'd stay late to…catch up on my paperwork," I told her lamely, ignoring the snort of poorly suppressed laughter from Alex. "Oh. Maybe another time then," Lila replied, giving me a look that said I was dreaming if I thought I would ever get another shot with her. Not that that was much of a loss, at least in my mind. She wasn't my type, anyway. She was too…fake, from her bright blonde highlights to her slightly orange tan. You see, I tend to go for a woman who is genuine. A woman who can hold her own. A woman who is fun but knows when to be serious. A woman that's about 5'4", blonde, funny, beautiful, and is sitting right across from me…
No. I have to stop thinking like that. She's my partner, for God's sakes. I'm not supposed to feel like this about her. I can't start down that road or I'll never be able to come back. I can't let myself have these thoughts about her. Besides, there's no way she feels the same way about me. She's small and beautiful, and I'm…big and gawky. Amazing women like her don't fall for screwed up guys like me. We sit on the sidelines and play the "best male friend" role. We're never the boyfriend. Just watch a romantic comedy, you'll see. The girl always wants the gorgeous, unattainable guy, not the boring boy-next-door.
But, hell, it can't hurt to dream…
