Disclaimer: I do not own Dick Wolf's characters.
" . . . they were overwhelmed by a labyrinth of other emotions . . . " ~ from "I'm Driving Eames."
What A Mess
Chapter 1
After everything that they'd been through, the job, the accident, that first kiss and the several that followed thereafter, they weren't speaking to each other. They hadn't talked in days. They needed their 'space' or so they claimed. The truth is that they were obstinate - an unflattering yet sometimes necessary remnant of youth. She from growing up more than a tad bit spoiled and he from the emotional abuse suffered at the whims of the elder Goren.
On the rare occasion that she was actually wrong about something he was always quick to forgive her. Yet this time she had gone too far and had said some things that bordered on causing 'irreparable damage.' She had hurt him deeply.
It was just about a week ago when he innocently picked up some papers from her dining room table. Those damn papers. He was setting the table for dinner. They were celebrating his offer from Homeland Security. Alex hadn't received any offers yet, but there had been rumors and they had other options to discuss.
"Alex honey where do you want me to put these?"
"What?"
"Where should these go?"
"Give me those."
She nearly fell over running from the kitchen to the dining room to rip those papers from his hands.
"What's wrong? I'm just clearing the table for dinner."
"And reading my mail?"
"I wasn't reading your mail."
She walked over to her desk threw the papers inside a top drawer slammed it shut and locked it tight.
"Hey, hey what's wrong?"
"I don't like you rummaging through my stuff like I'm one of your damn suspects that's what's wrong."
"Rummaging through your stuff? Alex I wasn't..."
"And what else have you been doing while my back was turned?"
"Alex what are you talking about?"
"Oh come on we've done it a thousand times Bobby. Distract the suspect so you can go on your reconnaissance mission."
"That's not true Alex. I would never do that to you."
"You know you don't need to know everything about me anyway."
"You actually think that I've been going through your apartment, looking through your things?"
"Why don't you tell me."
"Alex what's come over you? Is there something that you're not telling me?"
"Look why are you using that tone with me?"
"We're having a conversation that's what adults do Alex they have conversations."
"Oh do they? Like the conversation that we had when you decided to pack up and leave town?"
"We've been through that Alex. I told you before that I didn't want to get in the way of your career. You weren't upset then? What's changed? Look I'm sorry if I . . . "
"Oh the great Detective Goren who doesn't have a care in the world is sorry. Or is it special Agent Goren now that you're with Homeland Security."
"Is that what this is all about, my offer at Homeland Security? Alex we were supposed to talk about that. I haven't accepted."
"We both know it's just a matter of time until you do."
"Alex you know that you're going to get offers but face it you haven't been very diligent in looking."
"How dare you. I wouldn't even be in this mess if it wasn't for . . ."
"If it wasn't for what? If it wasn't for what huh Eames? If it wasn't for what! Me screwing up your career? "
Just before he turned to leave he looked at her, "still having trouble with the truth huh Eames."
"GET OUT!"
The door slam, if not the stunning silence that followed, was enough to shock her back into sanity. She was all alone in her dining room with the aroma of all of his favorite Italian delicacies permeating the kitchen - a gentle reminder of an evening that could have been.
"Oh My God . . . Bobby . . . I didn't mean that."
She didn't. She was troubled and didn't quite know how to ask for his help. For the second time in a little over a year she'd sent him away, this time by her own hand. He had grabbed his coat so abruptly that he had dropped his scarf before he left. She spotted it on the floor and was going to hang it up, until she caught a slight hint of his scent. She drew the scarf to her face to catch the tears. She closed her eyes tightly and inhaled the redolence of rare woods and spices and all that was made of him - his kindness and strength, determination and passion. She held on to it for dear life. He was her life and she hoped by some miracle that she was still his. Although right now she doubted it very seriously. Because she had been a bitch and he was gone.
He barely remembered the taxi ride home or collapsing into bed. His entire body ached from tension and stress and he worried about tomorrow and what new hell it would bring. He could face the alcoholic rants of his father a thousand times over, but just one 'malword' or disappointing look from her was too much.
They had argued before. The one after his undercover stint took months to heal. But this? This was an all out fight, and she had caused it. He couldn't believe what had just happened. A lesser man would have exploded; would have been wild eyed with rage. But his love for her was unconditional. That's why he was in so much pain.
Of all the human offenses, betrayal of the heart has to be the cruelest of them all. It is the other silent killer - attacking without warning. Knowing precisely where to strike. You're left naked, vulnerable, confused and sometimes feeling just plain stupid. He was exhausted and fell into a deep sleep. He didn't wake up again until the 'crack of noon' as he and his brother Frank use to say. He picked up the phone to dial her number out of habit, but then he remembered last night.
"I wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for . . ."
"How could she have said that to me? Not after . . . I would have never hurt her that way."
It was a difficult decision especially after the rumors, but he picked up the phone and dialed the number. "Hello Jennifer this is Robert Goren. Good thanks. I got your messages and I'd like to take you up on your offer. I'd be honored to join Homeland Security."
He wasn't quite sure if he had accepted the job because he really wanted it or just to spite her. It seemed to have been a sore spot with her last night. They were supposed to talk about it and other things but he screwed up somehow when he picked up those damn papers.
"Good so I'll wait for the package to arrive and I guess I'll see you in about a week."
He got dressed and went to get a newspaper. He also bought a package of cigarettes - somewhat in defiance of her. He had promised that he wouldn't smoke.
"Doesn't matter now anyway . . . she doesn't have to know everything about me either . . . if that's the way she wants it."
Anyway, he had a new job to prepare for - Special Agent in charge of some recently manufactured multisyllabic government department - a federal desk jockey. It was not his style at all but the pay was good, the hours were normal and he wouldn't have to worry about being shot at or coming in contact with the dregs of society or witnessing autopsies or staying up all night on stake outs or going undercover or interrogating suspects or . . . all of the things that he loved about being a cop - and being a cop with her.
"This is what you wanted. Hope your damn papers keep you warm at night."
TBC
