Alex POV
We spent the first leg of our flight going over the old case file.
"What do you think?" I asked him. "Is Fife for real?"
"It's hard to argue with it, considering some of the facts he mentioned in his emails, but…I don't know."
"Uh huh," I agreed. "I'm curious to meet him in person. I find it odd that he suddenly wants to confess after fourteen years."
Bobby thoughtfully hummed his agreement, but then as the announcement was made that we were on approach at LAX, he tucked the file back into his binder.
"It should make for an interesting flight home," he replied.
"We have to get there first," I reminded him.
We bumped into each other as we buckled our seatbelts, and I felt silly for the jolt of electricity that went through me at the contact. Even more so when a fluttering feeling took residence in my stomach as he leaned over to talk quietly to me.
"I'm going to find a way to get us into first class on the next flight," he said in a near whisper. "I am not built for coach."
He made good on his word.
The layover in Los Angeles was short, but while we were there, Bobby flirted mercilessly with the girl at the United Airlines desk, and he got us a free upgrade to first class.
"I can't believe you did that," I told him as I settled back in the cushy seat.
"Did what?" he asked innocently.
I raised an eyebrow at him, but he continued to look at me with question.
"Do you honestly not realize your effect on women?" I asked him.
He should be used to my directness by now, but apparently that, combined with the overt compliment, threw him for a loop. He actually blushed a little and shook his head.
"My effect on women? Eames, I'm in my upper forties, and I haven't had a serious relationship in over a decade. I can't even remember my last date...I'm pretty sure that I have no effect on women."
"And yet here we are in first class," I replied, struggling to mask the mixture of pleasure and disappointment at his declaration.
No serious relationships…no dates…but what did he consider me? A buddy?
A partner, I reminded myself practically.
"Would you rather be back in coach?"
"No way," I answered.
Although honestly, I hadn't minded the close quarters.
Sitting with Bobby's leg pressed up against mine for six hours hadn't been a hardship. Unless you count the fact that I'd had to pretend to be unaffected.
"You're going to do that on the return flight, too, right?" I added.
"Absolutely. Unless the clerk is a man," he clarified in a conspiratorial voice. "And then it'll be up to you."
"If it's up to me, we'll end up in the back near the bathroom," I said cynically. His response to me was cut short by the flight attendant.
"Can I get you something to drink?" she asked as she stepped up next to Bobby. "Or something for your wife?"
"Yes, we'd both like coffee, please," he told her, and as she moved away, he turned his head to look at me, and once again I felt extremely unprofessional.
He was stretched out in the seat, with his head leaning back, and his eyes had a mischievous glint to them.
He was looking at me like we shared some deep, dark secret.
"Wife?" I asked in amusement.
"An easy assumption," he replied casually. "Besides, you said this was your dream honeymoon, right?"
"I hope you know I was kidding."
"Where'd you go with Joe?"
His question caught me by surprise.
I mean, we'd talked about Joe.
On those nights when we'd gotten together for the sole purpose of casual conversation, he'd asked me a few questions about my former life as a married woman.
And of course, I could've guessed that he'd be curious. It was a topic I normally avoided, but since we'd started opening the door for personal discussions, it wasn't surprising that Bobby asked about him.
But here we were, on a plane, on the job, and he was asking me about Joe.
"We've got eleven hours before another layover in Tokyo, and I've already memorized the entire case file," he said in answer to my unspoken question. "Maybe we can pretend like we're off the clock for awhile, huh?"
"Okay," I agreed.
"Until we get to Ho Chi Minh City," he clarified.
"Sounds like a good idea to me."
And it really did, because once we had Fife in custody, we'd have to be all business, so it wouldn't hurt to make the trip out as enjoyable as possible.
We were both quiet for a few minutes while the attendant served our coffee. I found myself idly wishing that I'd ordered something stronger since we were going to be delving into a personal discussion.
Maybe I would the next time she came back.
"Joe and I didn't go anywhere," I said at last, since I knew that Bobby would never ask the question again.
That's how it was with us.
Anything was open for questioning, but neither of us had to answer. And once a question was ignored, it was off the table.
That was just another one of those rules.
I was starting to think that we had way too many of them.
"You didn't have a honeymoon?"
"He couldn't get the time off of work. And really, we didn't have the money to take a trip. It was something we said we'd get around to, but we never did."
I sipped on my coffee while I waited for the follow-up question.
Bobby always had follow-up questions.
Although I guess I did too.
I could write it off to the fact that we're detectives, but honestly I think it's because we're both so starved for information about the other.
I mean, we've worked together for five years.
As far as I'm concerned, I should know the make and model of his first car, and the name of his date for the senior prom, and the age at which he lost his virginity.
And at this point, I was only one for three.
He'd driven a 1964 Plymouth Duster while he was in high school. One he lovingly says was held together with a wire coat hanger and a bungee cord.
It had taken three glasses of scotch for me to pull that information from him and that had just happened two weeks ago.
"Do you miss him?" Bobby asked and I'd been so lost in thought that it took me a moment to catch up.
"I…well…that's not really a yes or no question."
"Okay," he said, at once willing to let me off the hook.
That was our routine, too. We didn't apply any pressure to each other.
"I miss having someone," I said after taking a deep breath. "It was nice to come home from work and have someone with whom I could share the day, you know?"
I met his gaze and he nodded in understanding. For some reason, I felt compelled to elaborate.
"I mean, he was a nice guy and he was a good husband. We had our ups and downs, but we were really just getting started so it's hard to say how things would've gone. I'm sorry that he had to die so young, but I can't really say that I miss him specifically. I've been without him longer than I was with him. That part of my life almost seems like a dream now. And I don't mean because it was perfect or anything. I just mean in the sense that I have to work to remember some of the details…and it almost feels like it happened to someone else. Like it's just something I heard about secondhand."
I was almost embarrassed for having said so much, but then Bobby put his hand over top of mine. It was just like I'd done to him that night at my apartment, only this time my hand was resting on my leg, so when he covered my hand with his own, his fingers were touching my thigh.
I was sure that he hadn't meant for it to be such an intimate gesture, but I wasn't going to let him back away. I turned my hand and grabbed onto his.
"That had to be so hard for you," he said, his voice a quiet rumble, adding to the tenderness of the moment.
"It was, for a long time. And then things just got better. I had to quit thinking about what could've been and move forward with my life."
"But you still haven't found anyone else," he stated.
Yes, I have, I wanted to say. I just don't have the courage to say anything.
"I'm content with the way things are," I said instead.
"Are you?"
"Mostly," I amended. We were treading in dangerous waters here, so after a moment's hesitation, I decided I'd better change the subject. "So tell me how your mom's doing."
We held hands until dinner was served. It was kind of like a silent reminder that we were there for each other. Because until dinner, our discussions were heavy. Serious topics with deep undertones.
After dinner, I changed the direction.
"Okay, we spent the first couple of hours depressing the hell out of each other," I said with a smile. "How about we do something else for the rest of the trip?"
"What did you have in mind?" he asked as a smile played on his lips.
I love that look that he gets, the one where it seems as though he's ready to laugh at any moment.
I don't see it nearly enough. Maybe I'd have to work on that.
"Truth or dare," I said in an effort to get a full smile from him.
"Truth or dare? How old are we?"
And despite his words, I knew I'd piqued his interest.
"Okay fine," I said dismissively. "Watch a movie or something. Whatever. We've only got five hours left."
He sat quietly for a minute while I rummaged through the selection of in-flight magazines.
"Truth or dare, huh?" he asked at last. "I suppose that might be interesting."
"Well, we'll have to play without the dare part, of course."
"No dares?" he asked. "Come on, Eames. What fun is that?"
"What kind of dares can we do on a plane?"
When I said it, I was being serious, but it came across as somewhat of a challenge.
"Huh," he said thoughtfully, although he was now smiling broadly. "I don't know…I can think of a few."
I laughed at his suggestiveness, loving that I'd pulled out this side of him. He had it in him to be like this…playful, flirtatious, funny…he just didn't often do it.
And honestly, I was practically vibrating with anticipation just from curiosity of what kind of dares he'd come up with on a plane.
Maybe I did want to play the full version.
I wouldn't mind tossing a few dares out there myself.
"I don't want to get kicked off the plane," I replied practically. "I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want to have to explain that one to Ross."
"What kind of dares are you talking about, Eames?" he teased. "I just meant annoying the flight attendants with the call button or something."
"Uh huh," I answered in disbelief. "Still…"
"So we'll save the dare portion for another time," he stated, adjusting himself in his seat so that he was partially facing me. "After this case."
"Deal," I agreed quickly. "So for now, it's just truth."
"It's going to be a boring game, Eames," he said. "You already know everything about me."
"I know next to nothing about you," I argued.
"Go ahead," he told me. "Lay it on me. What do you want to know?"
We went back and forth for more than two hours, each time digging just a little deeper, getting just a little more personal.
It was…interesting and exciting and…enticing.
The more I learned about him, the more I wanted to know.
But the one thing I avoided was asking him how he felt about me.
I wasn't sure, in that case, that the truth would be such a good thing. I thought maybe it was better to keep the hope alive rather than face reality and learn that this was going to be the extent of our relationship.
And really, good friends was better than just work partners. And that's what we were now…that's what we'd evolved into.
I would take what I could get.
We still had several hours to go before our arrival in Tokyo and I just couldn't hold my eyes open any longer.
"I'm going to have to take nap," I told him apologetically.
"That's fine. Maybe I will, too."
He wouldn't. I don't know how he went so long without sleep, but he did.
I shifted in my seat in an effort to get comfortable. I was grateful for the upgrade from coach, but it was still a chair.
"You can lean on me," Bobby offered after I wiggled for several more minutes.
"I don't want to confine you to your seat."
"I'm not going anywhere," he stated firmly.
So I tucked my feet beneath me and leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder.
He smelled even better close up, and I idly wondered how anyone could still smell alluring after so long on an airplane.
"Better?" he asked when I let out a heavy sigh.
"Uh huh. Thanks."
I closed my eyes while my mind replayed snippets of our conversation.
It was crazy, really.
Pulling information from Bobby made me feel like I was coaxing a wild animal to come and eat out of my hand.
It was scary and exhilarating at the same time. And definitely well-worth the effort.
I wondered what was going through his mind.
Was he enjoying our time as much as me?
Was he tired of pretending that we weren't more to each other than our jobs dictated?
Or was he utterly clueless as to how I felt and completely disinterested in changing the status quo?
It was really hard to say.
And then I heard him exhale deeply as he rested his cheek against the top of my head.
Maybe it wasn't so hard to say, I thought with an internal smile.
And maybe after we got through this case, I'd make a dare for myself.
I was going to find out once and for all if there was any chance for us to be together.
TBC...
