CHAPTER THREE

Alex's grip on Bobby's hand briefly tightened. Her head spun. In the past months, she'd frequently wondered what she'd do if the NYPD wanted her back. It was, after all, her second home, second family. Her family claimed that if you cut any one of them, they'd bleed blue, even the civilians and the firemen. In these past months, Alex frequent felt she was bleeding blue from thousands of cuts inflicted by the NYPD. And here was a chance to return to the department that had hurt her, and to return with Bobby Goren. And for all that had happened to her with Bobby Goren—some people would say because of Bobby Goren—Alex realized she wanted to work with him, even if it meant returning to the NYPD. The thought hit Alex with the force of the softball that Mary Alice Kowalski threw at her accidentally in seventh grade. She now regarded Bobby Goren more highly than she did the department.

Alex looked across the table at Bobby. He stared into the oatmeal, and Alex thought he hadn't taken a breath since he'd spoken.

"And what did Hannah say to that?" Alex asked, as much to get Bobby to breathe as to ask the question.

"He...He wants you back. I'm pretty sure he wanted you back before he talked to me. If you called him right now, I'm sure he'd take you, with or without me. Probably be happier without me. Like he said, he'd be an idiot not to want you."

"Bobby." Alex gently squeezed his hand. "Breathe."

Bobby took a deep breath. "It's just...I didn't want you to think. You're important, Eames. You're a great cop. Talk about me being the best. You're the best. The absolute best. It's why I...If I'm going to do this job, I want to work with the best. I can't go back..."

"Bobby. Remember to breathe. I understand."

"It's just...You're no one's water carrier," Bobby said with sudden ferocity. "You never were."

"I know that," Alex said gently. "But you're putting a lot of responsibility on me."

"I don't mean to do that." Bobby was shy and contrite again. "It's like I said. You...You're the best. You make everything great. I know what it's like without you. I don't want that. Not after being with you."

"Just work?"

Bobby trembled and stared at their hands. "I...I don't know what to say. I...I'm not even sure what I should call you. Those nights..." He swallowed. "Those memories...They kept me going."

"They've helped me, too," Alex said. "Even though I'm not sure what we are either."

Bobby couldn't look directly at her. "I know. We haven't talked about those times. Except to say we should talk about them."

"Yea." Alex smiled.

"I...I don't know why you...Why you...But I'm so grateful...Grateful doesn't begin to cover it...Those times...After that interview with Gage...I don't know what I would've done without you. And no one...No one...Could've done for me what you did."

Alex didn't know what to say. The night after the revelation of Declan Gage's perverted plan to "save" Bobby, Alex brought Bobby back to her house. She had no idea what she would do for him, but she wasn't going to leave him alone. She didn't think he'd hurt himself, at least not deliberately. But in his current state mind, Alex could easily see Bobby wandering into traffic or disappearing into a bar or becoming the victim of cops who agreed with whoever put that thing in his desk. He followed her wordlessly out of Major Case. In the parking garage he started towards the subway, but Alex gently guided him to her car. He slumped in the passenger seat, scarcely aware of anything, even when Alex handed him his leather binder. She considered driving to his home, but she was exhausted herself and wanted to deal with him on her turf.

"Where...Where are we going?" Bobby finally was aware of his surroundings.

Alex started at his voice. "My place," she said firmly.

"You don't have to..."

"Yes, I do. More than that, I want to."

He said nothing through the rest of the drive and followed her silently inside her house. He stopped just inside the front door and stared at the new floor that had taken the place of the one stained with Alex's blood. Alex closed the door behind them, effectively cutting off any escape. She felt the desperation and exhaustion radiating from him.

"Here," she said gently. "Let me hang up your jacket. You should sit down before you collapse."

He removed his jacket slowly, as if his arms weighed too much for him to lift. He lurched to the couch and fell heavily on it. Alex hung up his jacket and followed him into the living room. She looked at him, and, as it had many times in the past few days, her heart broke for him. She stood in front of him, and he stared at the floor.

"Oh, Bobby. I wish I could help you. That I could do something for you."

Bobby took a deep breath and shivered. He slumped forward and caught his head in his hands.

"Why?" he murmured. "I've tried to be a good man. I've tried to do the right thing. I gave up my career in the Army. I didn't pursue other careers. I gave up girlfriends. I gave stuff up so I could take care of my mom. I tried to help Frank. Even when he turned on me. Used me. I've always tried to do the right thing as a cop. Even when it wasn't popular. But...You and me...We've got the best solve rate in the NYPD. I got a Medal of Honor. Maybe I didn't deserve it, but I go it, and you'd think it'd mean something. You know what my mom said when I showed it to her?"

Alex sat next to him.

"She asked me how many parking tickets I had to write to get it. And my brother wanted to know how much you could sell it for. Did I ever tell you I got a couple of medals from the Army?"

"You never told me, Bobby, but it doesn't surprise me. You're a good and brave man." She wasn't sure if he heard her.

"They disappeared. It was a time when Frank was staying with me. Claimed he was clean. Things started disappearing. Including the medals."

Alex's hand flew to her mouth. She knew Frank Goren was capable of terrible things, but stealing and pawning Bobby's medals seemed low even for him. But the man had left Bobby to suffer torture in a prison where Frank knew the guards killed prisoners.

"I found the pawn ticket," Bobby continued. "The going rate for a Purple Heart is awfully low."

"Oh, Bobby." Alex touched his arm. "Did you get them back?"

"I didn't care about them really. In the end, they're just bits of shiny metal. But what they represent, and that Frank only saw them as a way to get money to get high or gamble..."

"And you...You kept giving him more chances."

"Yea." Bobby laughed bitterly. "I'm supposed to be this genius. And I'm the biggest fool..." He laughed harder, and it terrified Alex.

"Bobby." She reached for him, but he jerked back. The laugh grew louder and wilder, and Alex didn't know what to do. He laughed until he began to sob, and Bobby collapsed into her arms. The couch shook with the force of his sobs. Alex clung to him. Bobby began to mumble, but it was several moments before Alex could understand him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he said over and over.

"Bobby. Why...What have you done?"

Sheer exhaustion calmed him.

"Aren't you afraid of being around the son of Mark Ford Brady?" he asked. "The protégé of Declan Gage? The son of an insane mother?" he whispered.

"No," Alex said firmly and gently. "Even if you're all of those things, you're also a brave, good man. Every day you proves that, by your actions, by what you do in spite of the horrible things done to you."

Bobby looked at her with great, sad eyes. "I wish...I wish I could believe that." He blinked.

"C'mon." Alex stood up and took Bobby's hands.

"What?"

"You're not staying on this couch," Alex declared. "It's way too small. And horrible on your back."

For a moment, Alex feared he couldn't or wouldn't stand, but he finally lurched to his feet. He stumbled behind her. He stopped in her bedroom's door.

"I...Uh..."

"The guestroom is full of stuff," Alex said. "And you've been here before. All those times you helped me fight my nightmares."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm returning many, many favors," Alex said.

"Those nightmares were my fault."

"Did you kidnap me? Did you hurt me?"

"I might as well have..."

Alex walked to him. "No. You may have shut me out, not talked to me, but you were and are not guilty of that."

She took his hands and pulled him to the bed. "Sit," she told him gently. After he sat on the bed, she knelt and pulled off his shoes and socks. He fumbled with his shirt.

"Here," Alex said. "Let me help you."

"Oh, Alex," he whispered. "If only I could get my brain to stop for a while."

It may have been the longing and loneliness in his voice; it may have been the warmth of his breath; it may have been the soft touch of his hand on her cheek; it may have even been his use of her first name. Whatever its cause, Alex desperately wanted, needed to help him.

"Oh, Bobby," she whispered, and kissed him on the mouth.

And then they were lying together on the bed. Bobby kissed as her as if the act could save and redeem him. They finally broke the kiss so that he could take off his T-shirt. He hovered over her.

"Alex...Are you sure about this?"

To answer, Alex pulled off her tank top and released her bra. Bobby gasped, and she pulled his hands to her breasts.

"Yes," she murmured. "Oh, yes, yes."

The next moments were a wonderful, overwhelming blur. Alex had heard something about Bobby's skills as a lover, but she'd dismissed most of the talk as wild speculation. But, whether because of Bobby's desperate need or her or her own need for him and to comfort him, Alex had never experienced anything so intense and wonderful. There was pain when he entered her, but even that was a strange pleasure. He flowed over and around and in her, and Alex thought she might die. And then she didn't care.

She slowly returned to the world. At some point Bobby slipped from her body, and he lay spent across her body. His head rested just below her breasts, and the air cooled her glistening body. As she regained control of her body, Alex ruffled Bobby's curls. He trembled.

"It's all right," she whispered. "You didn't hurt me. It was wonderful. You were wonderful."

He tried to raise his body.

"It's all right," she said again. She reached for the sheets and blankets and pulled them over their bodies.

The rich smell of coffee woke Alex. She stretched and blinked at the bright sun. "Bobby," she thought, and turned on the bed. Bobby lay on his side next to her, his great, dark, sad eyes looking at her. He wore his T-shirt and his boxers, and Alex was suddenly aware she was naked. She shivered.

"Here," Bobby said and pulled his shirt from the floor. He handed it to Alex and rolled off the bed. "I'll get you some coffee."

Alex swam in his shirt. It smelled of his cologne and scent, and she reveled in its soft cotton. There was a gentle knock on the door.

"It's all right," Alex said. "I'm decent. And it's not like you haven't seen it everything."

Bobby carefully entered. He carried two cups. "Uh...I made coffee. I think it might be strong enough even for you."

Alex took her cup and sipped it gratefully. "Oh," she said. "That's good. Thank you. And for the shirt.

Bobby smiled shyly at her. "You look much better in it than I ever did." He stood and rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, Alex...I don't know what I would have done without you last night. And what you did for me..."

Alex leaned forward and took his hand. "Hey. You gave me something too. And not just the shirt and this great coffee."

"I...I didn't hurt you? Or force you?"

Alex smiled at him. "Not at all. You were wonderful."

He shivered and sat heavily on the bed. "Good. Good. I was so afraid. Ever since I found out about...About..."

"Brady."

"I keep thinking about the women I've been with...And wondering if I ever forced or hurt anyone...If I'm like him..."

Alex nearly dropped her coffee. She managed to put it on the side table. "Bobby Goren. Look at me."

He stared at the floor.

"Look at me and listen to me." She tightened her grip on his arm. "You are nothing like Brady. Or Gage. Or your brother. Or the man you thought was your father."

"You...You didn't know them. Or you didn't know them well."

"I knew them well enough. I certainly know you."

"You...You believe that I'm a good man? All the stuff I've pulled and done to you, and you believe that?"

"And all the people you've saved and helped and the way you've made me see things and made me a better cop and person?" Alex smiled. "Yea. I believe it."

Bobby's free hand moved to cover his mouth.

"Remember what you always say?" Alex asked. "What happens to people explains why they do things, but it's not an excuse. A person makes choices. And you, Bobby, chose to be a good man. You're not perfect. No one is. But you're a good man."

He wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you."

END CHAPTER THREE