Crash, Scene 2

A few days later Bobby was leaning against the front of his car waiting for Lupo to come out of the coffee shop. He was surprised to see Eames pull up in her giant SUV. He walked over to her. He hadn't seen or talked to her since her husband had decked him out front of Logan's bar.

"How's your head?" She asked, her question almost conveyed concern, but her expression did not.

"Attached." Bobby replied.

"How many stitches?" She asked in such a way as to almost may small talk.

"Is that why you're here, to see how many stitches?" Bobby was now leaning against the front of her SUV. She glared at him for a moment.

"How'd you get home?" She asked. Bobby was having a hard time figuring out where all of the questions were coming from. Eames was not exactly chatty. He had called his brother Frank, who was none to happy to hear from Bobby in the middle of the night. Frank was at home asleep in his bed with his wife. Frank was a high school history teacher and he had to teach the next day, and did not appreciate having to drive out and retrieve Bobby from the emergency room.

"Which is it, how many stitches or how'd I get home?" Bobby asked, not answering either question. Eames glared at him for a moment. She swiftly stepped forward, her hand grabbing him by the crotch of his jeans, her eyes on level with his as he leaned backward against the car.

"Neither." She smiled, slightly, a bit wickedly, and kissed him soundly and suddenly. She literally had him by the balls when she said, "I think this will be the last you taste of me for a little while." Bobby wasn't necessarily surprised by her words, but he was a bit surprised by the grip she had on him.

"Fair enough." He replied, but he reached out and pulled her solidly against him, kissing her deeply. When he was done, he kind of threw her backward and she lost her grip on him. "I just wanted to make sure it was a fair taste." He said.

"You really are a son of a bitch." Eames said, but she was smiling, as if she appreciated that about him. He watched her walk around her car and climb back into her SUV. "I think Walker may be looking you up today." Eames threw the comment across the car, when she was a good distance away from Bobby. He immediately recognized the name as a cop who conducted internal investigations. One cop hits another one and there are bound to be some repercussions. Bobby knew that Eames had purposefully withheld that piece of information until there was a car between them. He reached forward to open the passenger side door. It was locked. So with his right hand out of sheer anger and frustration, he punched the window. The window held, but his hand hurt like a bitch. Eames did not stick around, she pulled away from the curb.

"Well, that was brilliant." Lupo walked up the sidewalk holding a large cup of coffee.

"Which part?" Bobby bit out, his hand throbbing.

"I only saw the part where you punched the window. Was there more?"

"No, no more." Bobby looked at his hand.

"I have a feeling you're headed back to the ER for the second time this week."

"It's fine." Bobby tried to flex his fingers and almost puked from the pain.

"Fine… …in that something might be broken kind of way." Lupo smiled. "Get in," Lupo referred to the car "you should get that X-rayed."

A few hours later, Lucy Jones walked into the ER exam area where Bobby was sitting, waiting to be discharged. Nothing broken. Bobby had a prescription for a very nice pain killer, and they had administered one as well, so he was feeling pretty mellow. He had seen a different ER doctor, so he was pleasantly surprised to see the pretty brunette from the other night.

"Detective Goren, you must like the ER this week." Lucy Jones smiled, looking at his chart. "How's your head?" She asked.

"Attached." He said, the same way he had said it to Eames earlier, but this time with a bit of a charming smile.

"I can see that." Lucy replied, looking at him. "Nothing broken in your hand I see." She looked at his hand and the notes on his chart. "Your right hand." She observed, thinking it was a bit odd, he was left handed.

"I was holding something in my left." He replied, thinking about how he was trying to open the door with his left hand only to find it was locked.

"Clearly it wasn't your temper." Lucy replied, thinking that here was a detective who had been in the ER twice in one week, once for a bar fight, now for punching a window.

"You look different." Bobby said, studying her. He really found her quite attractive. Something about the way she leveled him with her hazel eyes, something about the way she seemed to see right through him when she looked at him.

"Did they give you something for the pain?" Lucy asked, knowing full well they did, but interested in his answer.

"Yeah." He nodded, choosing that moment to move to stand. He nearly fell over on top of her. Lucy automatically took a step backward, watching him to see if he would catch his balance. And, he did. She took another step backward, wanting him to take another step and see if he remained steady. He looked at her like she was behaving strangely.

"I just want to see if you are steady on your feet." She looked up at him. He took a step toward her.

"I'm steady." He said, reaching out as if to touch her hair. He was distracted by a particular thick, glossy curl that was hanging across her face. She deftly deflected his touch.

"Yeah, you're steady." She looked at him.

"Steady as I'll ever be." He smiled, still studying her.

"I'll check on your discharge papers." She replied, turning to walk away.

"Lucy." He said her name, and she paused to look at him. He realized he didn't have anything to say, he had just wanted to say her name. It felt familiar to him, he liked her name, he was drawn to her. He thought about the other night how it felt to have her hand so lightly on his chest, over his heart.

"Detective?" She asked, looking at him.

"Nothing." He replied and watched her go. He stepped back and sat back on the table closing his eyes. He felt dizzy and slow all at the same time. He liked that feeling, that funny fuzzy feeling that slowed down his life, his thoughts. As he sat, it occurred to him that Joe Dutton was still working nights, and no matter what Alex Eames had said earlier, he figured that if he showed up at her place she would let him in, and he didn't need his right hand to do with her what he wanted to do with her. Zoom.


Author's Note: So, for those of you following my writing through, you might recognize a scene from Ch. 9 of The Doctor is In. Our lives, so twisty, yet kind of the same. Please drop me a review if you would like more. (I wonder about this concept…)