A.N. -- Wow, guys !!! I guess "Smile" really touched a chord with everyone. Thanks for the reviews.
I still don't own them. If I did, Eames would be on bread and water.
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Entering his apartment for the second time that evening, Bobby set the box of books on the floor near his desk, emptied his pockets on the counter, and hung his jacket in the closet. He then dropped heavily onto his couch, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. He had considered stopping at Delaney's and getting rip-roaring drunk, but changed his mind, deciding he didn't need to be physically sick as well as heart-and-soul sick, and really not in the mood to be around other people anyway. Besides, being drunk would do nothing to ease his pain. There wasn't that much alcohol in New York City.
Only then did he let himself consider Eames' words. "It's too late". His heart had begun to pound while Leslie was screaming recriminations at him, but her taunt that he would never be senior partner held no weight with him. Been there, done that with Bishop, and he hoped never to be there again. He hated having to deal with the brass any more than he absolutely had to, and had no patience with the narrow mindedness and tunnel vision men like the Chief of Ds exhibited, as evidenced by the shoddy investigation into Joe Dutton's murder. Take the first plausible answer offered, and don't bother to look any further. Make the pieces you have fit, don't look for the right ones. Because of that attitude, the wrong man had served 9 years in prison, and in order to put the right man in his place he had had to rip Eames' heart out all over again, even though it had been necessary so that justice could truly be served and there was no replay of the travesty the Dutton case had turned out to be. If that made him a whack job, so be it. At least, in that regard, he could sleep at night. So to speak.
What had cut him was Leslie's raving to Eames, that she would never be captain, that his own insubordination and instability would bring her down. And, it seems, Eames herself had had that same fear at one time. But now, "it's too late." Had he truly harmed her advancement by remaining partners with her? Did Eames want to advance in the ranks? They had never discussed that aspect of their careers, and he thought that she, like himself, was content where they were. He knew she hated the "good old boy" aspect of the force. He did, too. And sure, she had at one time requested a new partner – he didn't blame her for that, as he had never really expected her to stay in the first place. But when the letter came to light during the Garrett case, four years after the fact, she had been so terribly upset that ADA Carver had pounced on her plea to the defense attorney to allow her to explain, and her rebuttal testimony that she had come to appreciate Bobby as an ethical person and effective police officer touched him deeply. He had tried to convey his gratitude by telling her he was lucky she withdrew the letter, and he had never spoken truer words. Obviously, time had since changed her perception of him, and their partnership.
He knew he hadn't been the best partner over the course of the last year, taking out his frustrations and fears over his mother's illness on her, but they had worked that out, or so he thought., He knew, though, he would feel guilty about it for a long time to come. And, they were both worn down by other events – Jo and Declan Gage, the Wiznesky case, his mom's death – he hadn't told Eames about the possibility that Brady was his biological father, because he himself had yet to come to terms with that – and then, on top of it all, the Quinn murder. He figured they were both lucky neither of them had yet had some kind of meltdown. Maybe this was the meltdown.
Well, there was something he could do about it. He could set Eames free, to pursue whatever other goals she wanted to achieve. He could remove the millstone from around her neck, and take himself out of the picture. There was nothing to tie him down to the NYPD, or even New York, now that mom was gone. His brother neither wanted or needed him, except perhaps for a handout when he had a bad run in Atlantic City, and he was not inclined to enable Frank's addictions. Leslie's accusations and Eames' reaction had felt like someone had stabbed him with a red hot knife, and then twisted it to do the maximum damage. As painful as the wound was, he would bear it as he had borne all the other heartache in his life. A clean break was probably the best, sever all ties at once and move on to a new life, so Eames too could move on. That's what he would do.
His mind made up, he rose from the couch and walked to the closet, pulling from it a suitcase and garment bag. He had savings, and he would be paid for his accumulated sick and vacation time from the force, which was a fairly good amount, as well. He had Army buddies in Washington, D.C., who had urged him for years to explore his options with the government. Time to take their advice. He'd make several phone calls in the morning, and then head out. If he was lucky, he'd be gone by the end of his two weeks. He went to his bedroom, and started packing.