A/N 1: Thisfic was written well before Season 10 started; in fact, part of it was written before I knew there would be a Season 10. So… there are one or two words in this chapter that you might object to as no longer accurate… but I really liked the scene, and so I wanted to leave it as-is. Enjoy!

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CHAPTER FOUR: NOW THIS, ON THE OTHER HAND…

"You know that both these movies are a bit racy," she drawled as her partner cleared the remains of their feast from the coffee table.

"Oh, heh, are they," Bobby asked, taking the breadbasket from her and laying a clean napkin over it. "I haven't seen either of them."

Alex felt a little bit nervous, actually, about cozying up with Bobby in his living room eating dessert in the dark and watching either one of these movies. It was just so not what they would ever do together. Except… here they were.

As she had earlier, Alex decided to put aside her anxiety and just trust her partner. He was happy, he was relaxed, he thought everything was going fine. And he wouldn't hurt her or use her or steer her wrong. Would he?

"So you've seen them both, I gather," he asked. She'd followed him to the kitchen and was helping him wrap the leftover food and put it away. She paused for a beat, expecting him to offer to watch something else instead, but he didn't. "Any preference?" He took out a fresh J-cloth, wet it, and used it to wipe down the counters and the refrigerator. He looked really good and really happy, bouncing around the little kitchen cleaning and straightening with his beautiful hands. She thought of all the sad times he must have spent in this place, and was suddenly very very glad she'd decided to trust her gut (literally) and stay. If this was a happy moment for him, she wanted to help him keep it, and moreover, she wanted to share it with him.

"I, um…" Alex felt self-conscious talking about it… in fact, both films had gotten her really hot. "They're both great, actually." She thought of two things… the naked woman on the back of a horse in the Latin American one, and the hunky Alfred Molina in orgasmic chocolate throes in the shop window in the French one.

Bobby sent her back into the living room with instructions to pick one and set it up. The previews were playing on mute when Bobby came back with a plate piled high with something.

"I looked all over the place for fresh ones of these." He gently settled the serving dish before handing her a plate.

"What are they? They look good."

"Caña de crema, Spanish pastries. Kinda like a cross between a cannoli and an éclair."

"Oh my. You trying to fatten me up, Goren?"

"Nope. That's, uh, not what I'm trying to do." Before she could even wonder at his words, he'd turned on his heel and hustled back to the kitchen. The last preview was just starting when he returned with two huge mugs and sat down.

"Was that an espresso machine I heard in there?"

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "I just bought it a couple of days ago."

"You? An espresso machine?"

He just shrugged. "Pastry?" He asked, handing her a plate. "So which movie did you choose?"

"Chocolat. I think the other is more your style, but this one has a less… complicated ending."

He smiled cryptically at her.

She turned the mute button off and picked up her cup, but had to pause the video, she was so surprised. "What's this?"

"You didn't get to try any of that hot chocolate on Sunday, did you?"

o.o.o.o.o

Alex spent most of the next two hours watching her partner out of the corner of her eye. She'd seen the movie about fifteen times – with her sister, her mom, her older nieces, by herself – and even though she loved it, seeing the play of emotions across Bobby's face was much more captivating. A few times he took a breath and half-turned towards her as if to issue some addendum or correction to something on the screen, but each time he stopped himself and turned back with a smile.

The pastries turned out to be as delicious as they looked, and – well, they washed them down with hot chocolate – not just any hot chocolate, but the exact stuff served at kAkAw. Bobby had gone there and apparently sweet-talked the barista out of a couple of servings worth of super-awesome chocolate and fancy spices, then whomped it up with his new espresso machine.

The overarching significance of which was more than Alex could take in at that exact moment, so she filed it away to think about later. It wasn't hard. The peaceful flickering light and warm room, plus her full tummy and the company, made it easy to set aside meta-analysis.

When the final credits rolled, Alex was surprised at herself for how little she'd squirmed, considering the subject matter. Actually the evening, despite starting out awkwardly, had ended up OK. She knew she'd pay later, torturing herself by reliving these pleasant hours in her lonely apartment, but for now the company of her partner, so happy and relaxed, was enough.

"So d'you think Vianne and Roux have a future?" Neither had moved from their places at either ends of the sofa. Alex let her eyes wander around Bobby's room, while he stared at her with an inscrutable expression.

"I dunno," she said, shrugging. "They're both wanderers. It seems statistically improbable." Bobby made a face at her. "What?" She stood up and began waving her arms and pacing in a parody of him. "One, they both prefer to wander. So what's the likelihood that they'd both be able to love being stuck in the same place, even together? And two, how likely is it that if they both take up wandering, they'd both be happy wandering to the same places?" She tilted her head to the side, looked quizzically at him and sat down, half-bowing at his appreciative grin.

"What about Reynaud and Caroline?"

Alex didn't really want to think about them. "Their situation seemed more complicated."

"As Carver liked to say, 'That bell can't be un-rung, people.'"

She nodded reluctantly. "I think it would be very difficult for them to stuff it all back down."

"And painful." She looked at her partner to see a burning hunger and sadness in his eyes.

And just like that, the mood was broken. She excused herself to go freshen up, mumbling about the hour.

o.o.o.o.o

Alex returned from the washroom to find Bobby standing up, propped against the kitchen counter. She wandered over to him and began zipping up her hoodie. She'd wanted all evening to ask him why he'd gone to all this trouble… not only the food, but the ruse about their wet clothes and the restaurant. However, now that she had the chance, she hesitated. Perhaps it was better not to know. "Well," she mumbled hoarsely, tilting her face up but not quite meeting his eyes, "Thanks for dinner… I had – a good time. Any plans for the weekend?"

She didn't realise how close she was to him until he reached out and tentatively held her waist. Her breath caught in her throat… he'd never touched her so intimately in all their time together; even when he'd hugged her goodbye, his hands hadn't felt so… so… "Alex, I, um…" Even though at the angle he was leaning he was closer to her height, he'd tilted his head and bent over her. Oh god, he was going to kiss her… Emotions – longing, panic, rage – that she'd kept carefully tamped down bubbled to the surface, making her breath catch and her body tense.

"Bobby…" She pulled back ever so slightly and he instantly let her go, looking down and away with a laugh to cover his embarrassment.

"Sorry, Eames. I, uh…"

She found herself reaching for him, and when her hand settled on his breastplate, just over his heart, the possibilities of what he was offering, as scary as it was, threatened to overtake her. Touching him felt right… was that what he'd felt a few moments ago when he'd held her waist? "So that's…" She felt like an idiot. "I'm not saying no," she found herself admitting.

He examined her face carefully, and she found the scrutiny intimate, arousing even. It would be so easy to love this man.

"Then what are you saying?"

All of a sudden she felt self-conscious with her palm over his heart like this, especially since now that she kind of wanted him to touch her, he was keeping his hands jammed in his jeans pockets. But she didn't draw away. "I'm saying, why me?"

Her question came out bitchier than she'd intended, and she felt the muscles under her fingers tense as his face grew stormy. But he continued to sit stock still. "I mean, am I…"

"Don't."

At this she finally withdrew, and his scowl deepened, but she continued on through him. "Am I really what you want? Or just what's here? I'm your partner, too old to have children, damaged goods…"

"Well what about me? I'm grizzled, fat, professional kryptonite?"

"Bobby, you're not fat."

His face registered utter shock and they stared at each other, unmoving, until she smirked and his bark of a laugh broke the tableau.

He took her hand, held it for a few seconds, then placed it back over his heart. "Well?" He asked. "You touched me back."

She shook her head. Did he know what he was asking? One of them had to think clearly about this… too bad her head, along with the rest of her, was quickly succumbing to the magic of this moment. "It would be… difficult," she finally said.

"It would be worth it."

She wasn't convinced. "What would 'it' be? I mean a week ago I didn't even…"

He answered her with a kiss.

o.o.o.o.o

When Bobby's lips touched hers, Alex's eyelids slid shut and her breath hitched. He held her gently, with his hands on her shoulderblades and his knees pressed against the fronts of her thighs. She responded without reservation, the movement of her mouth against his eliciting soft sounds that he didn't seem to be aware of making. She first held his waist, then slid her hands up to his shoulders, tugging a little to pull him down. Then he deepened their kiss, drawing her closer and touching his tongue to hers.

When she couldn't stand it any more, she broke away and tried to pull out of his embrace. When he didn't yield, instead she buried her face in the crook of his neck. He tightened his arms around her and she easily moulded herself to the planes of his body. She both felt and heard a low rumble of contentment deep in his chest. They had never been this close to each other.

"I don't believe that a week ago you 'didn't even'… I believe that you may not have let yourself think about it. I don't believe that you didn't feel it."

"OK maybe. I'm not saying you're right, but I'll give you that maybe… but this, seduction, whatever this production was, what was it in aid of?"

"Are you asking me if, now that I'm feeling better, I'm ready to get laid?" Her partner's voice was low and sexy, and his breath was hot as her murmured in her ear.

She shrugged but kept her face hidden in his collar. She felt him tug at a hank of her hair, then use a finger to gently tilt her head up. "That's not what I'm ready for," he murmured, rubbing his nose against hers. "It's not what I want – I mean, it is what I want, but it's not all that I want, from you." Still holding her tight, he began kissing her, first her lips, then her cheeks, then along her hairline, then back to her lips. "Don't you want something, too, Alex," he whispered. "From me? With me?"

She knew the answer, but she couldn't say it. She couldn't say it! She tried to wriggle out of his arms, but again he held fast, so she once again hid her burning face again in his shirt. She felt tears leaking out of her eyes just as her lids touched the soft cotton.

"Say it," he implored.

"Yes," she finally mumbled. "Yes, I do. And I'm really pissed at you for making me tell you!" He laughed and lifted her clear off her feet, then swung her around and plopped her back down.

He tried to kiss her again, but she refused to budge. "You're really mad at me, aren't you?" She nodded. "But not just because of a few words? You're mad at me for arranging this evening." She didn't acknowledge him, but he hadn't been asking, he already knew. "It confused you, made you feel like you couldn't trust me."

"I'm sorry," she said into his shirt.

"It's OK, sweetheart, but… why?"

"I just… Do I really get to have you?"

"You've always had me. Always. It was never going to end any other way."

o.o.o.o.o

So instead of leaving, the hoodie came off again, and she ended up back on the sofa with Bobby. First straddling his lap, showing him that she could give as well as take, then beneath him, caresses deeper and skin-to-skin but still chaste, exploring with their hands that which their eyes already knew so well.

When she finally suggested bed – to sleep, for tonight anyway – and they were sitting up awkwardly, fastening things that would have fallen off otherwise as they stood, Bobby said his first full sentence in many minutes. "Now this, is a date."

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A/N 2: For all my quick-witted readers, yes, I did re-use a line of dialogue from another fic of mine. And to JM, who left an anonymous review… yeah, I know exactly what I was saying. I was a professional musician for 20 years. I laugh whenever I read people describe VDO or BG's voice as being 'deep'… his speaking voice is a high baritone at best, and when he gets upset he becomes positively squeaky.

I so appreciate the time you took to read my fic! Please please review!

WORDS: 2496 UPLOADED Saturday, May 21, 2011