Can You Keep a Secret?
By LMR
Wow! Thank you thank you thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!!! I can't say how much these reviews mean to me! I'm glad I'm giving people a little joy on this miserable, blood sucking holiday! (You never guessed I hate Valentine's Day, did you? Bring on the bloodshed!)
BTW: I mean no disrespect to Joe: that is the way I see myself dealing with death. The point of it is, she wouldn't take him back if she had to trade the life she has now; she just wishes he hadn't died such a sucky death because it wasn't fair to him. Sorry, but writing about Joe makes me irritable, so I glaze over him.
I especially want to thank everyone who said they couldn't figure out who her admirer is. I tried to make it difficult to tell, but I honestly figured everyone would see right through me and know the correct answer, either that it is or isn't Bobby. I must be better with this mystery thing than I thought! If my ego gets pumped up, and I write a casefile next, we know who to blame. I thought my last mystery was okay, but there were people who couldn't actually figure out who the killer was, apparently, even after finishing the story. Hmm. Well, thanks again, all!
Disclaimer: This chapter is too long to bother even telling you that I don't own it!
Chapter 6: Love and ABBA
Alex committed assault and battery on her alarm clock, then lifted herself onto her right elbow and gave the offending appliance a dirty look, just in case she hadn't made her point strongly enough with her fist. She let her mind organize itself for a moment before she even attempted to get up. Her brain fumbled in quick bursts. Six-thirty. (Why am I up so late?) No work. (Why not? It's) Wednesday. (Took the day off to avoid) Valentine's Day. She had never thought that the fact that it was Valentine's Day would feel like a good reason to get out of bed in the morning.
But she had never had such a doting admirer, either. A Broadway show, a carriage ride, a platinum ring, for goodness' sakes. Even just the flowers was enough to be overwhelming. Three dozen roses, so far. Well, six dozen if you count the three Goren had given her. She smiled. I have to water my six dozen roses. Talk about a reason to get out of bed!
The cluster of color-blend roses had been bumped to the top of the fridge yesterday due to a lack of surface area. The thought tickled her again as she got up on a stepstool to water them each in turn. I have too many admirer-roses to know where to put them. These flowers would take second string until she knew who they were from, at which point they would take their place either in the middle of the kitchen table (where Goren's three dozen were sitting now), or possibly in the trash, depending on who had been lavishing her (there's that tickle again, someone's lavishing me!) with gifts. She stepped down to water the three dozen on her table. For one very brief moment, she felt bad that she would, sometime today, very likely move Goren's roses over from their first place position. She liked having them there. Then it occurred to her how ridiculous that thought seemed, and she pushed it out of her mind.
"Hey, Al, I brought Valentine, My Bloody Valentine, Freddy Vs. Jason, the Saw Tril-" Andrea stopped short when she saw the flowers. "So much for the I hate Valentine's Day party."
"No, not really. Come in."
"Who the hell..."
"I don't know," she answered. "Oh, well, those I do," she gestured, correcting herself. "Those are from Goren. Those are some secret whoseitswhat. I have no idea."
She raised an eyebrow. "You partner brought you flowers?" There was a smirk on her face that gave away exactly with she thought of this revelation.
Alex shrugged noncommittally. "He's very thoughtful, it's just his personality, it's not me. He got some for Barek, too," she added hastily.
"Three dozen?" Andrea asked skeptically.
"No, one dozen, but she's not his partner, hasn't known him nearly as long, and the three dozen was a joke anyway."
"Joke, huh?"
"He said he was keeping up with the Joneses," she said gesturing to the flowers on top of the fridge. "Because Mr. X gave me a dozen yellow roses a couple weeks ago, and he said that's what he'd been planning, and I don't know if he really had been or if it was just to make me feel better about assuming those were from him." She was babbling, and she knew it.
Andrea's smirk only grew. "You assumed what?"
"What I assumed was that he'd done something I wasn't going to like and was trying to make up for it." She knew as soon as soon as the words left her mouth that they weren't going to help her case.
Andrea raised an eyebrow looking very much like her sister. "Is he your partner or your husband?"
"Andrea, please," Alex sounded exhausted, and her sister picked up on the change.
She raised her arms defensively. "Just teasing. You know that. I'm done. Now we'll start teasing you about your secret admirer. You have no clue?"
"Well, there is Lewis. He's a friend of- um, mine. He seems to really like me. But this," she reached for the third card. "Makes me think it's not." She handed it to Andrea. "'Can't keep it from you.' Lewis hasn't exactly been subtle about his interest."
She read the card and furrowed her brow. "Can I see the others?" Alex rolled her eyes. "Typical Eames, when there's something to figure out...first, second, third," she explained.
"Hmm. Anything else from this guy?"
She briefly explained the other gifts, then showed Andrea the ring.
"This guy's loaded. Keep him. Wait a minute," her sister said, not distracted by the ring as Alex had hoped. "You went to these other things he invited you to, and you still don't know who he is? Confused, now."
Alex showed her sister the first envelope. "The other one's the same."
"And who did you ask along?"
"I tried to get my little dude, but he had a birthday party." She knew she was opening a can of terrestrial goo-creatures, but said it anyway. "So I just took Goren." She tried to make the decision sound casual.
"Someone you..."
"I care about my friends, yes," Alex said coolly. "You said you would drop that."
"Hey, I'm still talking about your admirer. Weird how he pops into everything, though. Isn't it?"
"He does not." She gestured to the movies. "And I still hate Valentine's Day. Now bring on the bloodshed."
There was a knock at the door. The sisters looked at each other, and even the serious Alex Eames couldn't keep from looking somewhat gleeful. "Maybe now you find out."
Alex shushed her and answered the door. A very attractive tanned man was standing there, and seeing Alex, his face broke into a smile. But Alex didn't know him and he couldn't have been over twenty-five. "Alexandra Eames?"
"Yes," she answered, sounding uncertain.
"Good. Forgive the stupid grin, but this is one of the sweetest ones we've ever done. You've got quite an admirer. I've already gotten permission from your manager and notified your neighbors that are here for the day, so don't worry about that."
"Umm?" Alex managed.
He handed her another piece of paper, elegant and thick. with the same handwriting. "We're setting up now. Hope you enjoy."
And before Alex could ask him what the heck he was talking about, he was out the door and down the stairs. She rushed to the window, but Andrea was already there. "Um, Alex. That's a steel drum band. Why?"
The music started. It was beautiful of course, but Alex's head was spinning from the outright weirdness of the whole thing. And somewhere in the past seven years, she had gotten to the point where it took a lot of weirdness to make her head spin. She looked at the note, hoping for an explanation, or better, a name.
Dear Alex,
Hope you enjoy the music. You might want to jot down the playlist, just for fun.
Always yours,
Your Would-Be Valentine
"Playlist?" Andrea wondered. "What does he mean by that?"
Alex frowned. "I know this song." She concentrated, then seemed to have a Eureka moment. "It's ABBA!" She laughed. "How many people actually know that I love ABBA?" Who cares how many, she thought, he does. "It's..." she struggled with the title. "'Angeleyes.'" She jotted it down.
Andrea was incredulous. "Are you telling me that there is a steel drum band outside your apartment on Valentine's Day serenading you with ABBA?!" Alex nodded, looking like a teenager. "Alex, your secret Valentine is a headcase."
Alex's grin only broadened. "We can hope!"
"Ha!" Andrea cried triumphantly. "I knew you were hoping it was him!"
Alex shrugged. "Busted. But I'm going to try not to think about that. Because it's probably not, and if I..." she didn't finish her thought, and her sister just nodded. "Wait, this is a different one. 'Lovelight'," she said pensively, jotting this down under the first.
"Ooh, 'Angeleyes' and 'Lovelight.' This is getting juicy!"
But Alex was still frowning in concentration. "Hm. They're not in order. Not even from the same album." She picked up a book to read, or at least try to read to keep herself occupied while she waited for the next song to start. Now that her mind had settled on a puzzle, she couldn't let it go.
"Will you shut that detective brain off long enough to enjoy the music, not to mention the attention?" her sister implored. "Somebody loves you! Just relax and be happy about it."
"Nope. It was a short note, so there had to have been some reason to mention the playlist." She tapped her eraser absently on the notepad. "Eagle," she mumbled, writing this down below the other two.
"Can you imagine how much it would cost to rent a steel drum band? As if the ring wasn't enough!"
"No, I hadn't really thought about it." It hadn't occurred to Alex, but as soon as she thought of it, she realized that the price, even for an hour, would be ridiculous, probably a few dollars above ridiculous on Valentine's Day. "You already said whoever it is has a lot of money." She went back to the book, trying hard not to think about how much an entire wardrobe of specially tailored big and tall Armani suits would cost. She frowned, almost a pout this time. This music was slow, and a little creepy sounding. "This isn't ABBA. I've heard it, but I don't..."
"I know it!" her sister said, looking gleefully smug. Then her face grew into a smile. "Gimme that list, I think I get it." Alex handed over the paper. "Yup. 'Alex'."
Now Alex was completely miffed. "What?"
"I'm not calling you, that's what it says. This is the theme song from The X-Files There's no ABBA song that starts with X. I don't think. Well, there really aren't any songs that start with X. Look," Andrea passed back the pad.
Alex grinned immediately.
Angeleyes
Lovelight
Eagle
"'X-Files'," she wrote. "I told you there was a reason for the note. I feel like Ralphie with the Little Orphan Annie decoder ring. Hopefully this one won't spell out an ad for Ovaltine." "I still want to watch the movies," she added to Andrea simply.
Her sister was aghast. "You've got the Secret Admirer Show going on outside your window from apparently the sweetest man on the planet, and you want to watch The Demon!?"
"No, of course not. I want to watch Saw. Gimme gimme." Hmm, I wonder if that one'll be in there somewhere? Her sister looked stunned. Alex shrugged. "Truth is, I need something to get my mind off this, or I'm going to go bonkers. He'll obviously reveal himself in all his freakin' splendor sometime today, I just have to wait. And I don't want to think about who it might be, because, I'll probably just end up hurt if I speculate." She thought for a moment, tapped her cheek thoughtfully. "I Wonder," she said as she wrote the title.
"What?"
"No, that's the title. 'Alex, I...'" She shrugged. "See what I mean? I takes too long, I'll go batty."
Andrea rolled her eyes. "My sister, ladies and gentlemen." Alex glared. "Getting a musical love letter while watching people hack their limbs off."
By the time Dr. Gordon had finished said hacking ("No, Andrea, no one technically does any limb hacking until number three."), the band had gone through 'Lovers', 'Our Last Summer', 'Voulez-vous', 'Estoy Sonando', and 'Yippie-Yay', Alex dutifully wrote down the songs that played. She could see where it was going, but didn't let herself say it until it was finally all spelled out. 'On and on and On', and 'Under Attack'.
"Alex, I love you." She smiled, then raised an eyebrow at her sister. "Think he signed it?" Her sister just shrugged. Alex didn't even go back to the pretence of watching the movie. She sat, transfixed, waiting for the next song. She had never noticed that 'Under Attack' was the longest song ever written. She was fighting back the urge to retreat to the comfort of Ben and Jerry's when the next song began.
Andrea was waiting for a reaction, and was not disappointed. Alex jumped up off the sofa and grabbed her sister in a bear hug. "What did I miss?"
"'Baby'. This is 'Baby'. It's him: I don't know any other Bs."
Andrea tired to calm her sister. "I think you're probably right, but try to calm down. It could be something else. Maybe whoever it is just saying "I love you, Baby."
Alex felt like she was listening to the winning lottery numbers in torturous three minute intervals. 'One Man One Woman.' Every time the music stopped, there was a painful moment when she was afraid that it wouldn't start again, or that it would be the wrong letter and ruin her excitement. 'Bella Note' (looks like, she thought). The split second it took her to recognize the song filled her head with doubts and worries that she wasn't going to recognize it. 'Burning Bridges'. There couldn't be any doubt now, could there? But 'Burning Bridges' just seemed to keep playing for an eternity, until...
"'You Owe Me One'," she screamed at her sister.
"Tell me that's the name of the song and I didn't lose a bet I didn't know about?" her sister hoped. Alex nodded brightly.
"I gotta make a phone call." She grabbed her cell and headed out of the room, running back to get the velvet box and put the ring on her right ring finger. She would worry later about making up a cover story about who it was from.
The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Wasn't he ever going to pick up!? Voice mail. Dammit, Alex thought, what the hell can I leave on a voice mail that even comes close to- "Hi, Gor- Bobby, This is Ea- Alex." Great start, dear. Stumble much? "Well, we really need to talk, and um, call me." She hung up. Hmm, what was he going to think of that message? We really need to talk: Isn't that usually the break-up line? Yikes. She bit her lip indecisively.
"It's still spelling," her sister hissed. "And I don't know them!"
"People Need Love," Alex snapped angrily. "Now, I'm trying to make an important phone call!"
"Sorry, but obviously he's got everything planned out to perfection, and if he's not picking up, there's a reason."
Alex hit the redial, figuring her sister was right. "Um, hi, well, it's me. Again. I just, um, well, I, I wanted to tell you that when I say we need to talk, it's not a bad talk. That just sounded kind of scary, and I figured I should let you know that that wasn't, you know, that kind of we need to talk. Um, the point is, don't worry. Okay?" She hung up again. Still scary. "So Long," she hissed at her sister, who had come back for the beginning of a new song.
"I'm going, I'm going," Andrea conceded irritably.
Alex rolled her eyes again. "The song. S. PS," she amended, looking at the list. She pressed the redial, shooing her sister out of the room. If he had had enough courage to pull of something this big, the least she could- She dialed the number again, and hoped to God this hadn't been someone's idea of a practical joke.
"I love you."
"They're still going. I caught Take a Chance on Me after the PS, then missed one. What's this one?"
Alex thought a moment. "I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do," she answered, counting out the dos.
The phone rang. "I'm going to go into the other room now, and...um, go make up an excuse not to be here," Andrea said.
"Good plan. Run with it. Run faster." She answered. "Hi, Bobby."
"Alex, hi," he said shyly. Somehow, even over the phone she could tell that he was looking down and shuffling his feet like a little boy. The picture made her smile. "I guess we need to talk, huh?"
"Yes, but I'd really like to- Dammit! Sorry, there's somebody at the door, hold on." She pushed the hold button, and grumbled. "Perfect-" she opened the door to find her partner standing there, holding a single red rose and looking, if possible, more uncomfortable than he'd sounded on the phone. "Um, timing. I should have expected that." Over the initial shock, she hung up the phone and smiled warmly. "It's been a wonderful couple weeks. Thank you."
"What you, um, said on the phone. Were you trying to let me know that you'll still be my partner after all this?" He raised an eyebrow, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I mean, you're not mad at me, I guess. You put the ring on, but how exactly do you feel?"
Poor baby, she thought. Here's an amazing man: brilliant, kind, thoughtful, and drop dead gorgeous, everything a woman could want, and he won't let himself believe that I could love him. Time for the big guns. She stepped calmly up to him, took the rose out of his hand, and gently set it down on the welcome mat. He was looking very confused. "I don't want to scratch you with it," she explained simply. She smiled easily, and reached up on tiptoe to kiss him solidly on the mouth, making sure the Great Detective Goren was comprehending the meaning of "I love you." The smile that he could feel on her mouth helped, too.
"Mumph," she said into him. "So how, exactly, do I feel?" she challenged.
"Amazing," he answered immediately, sounding stunned.
"Must be hard to do such sweet-talking when your jaw is on the floor." He was so dazed, he didn't even laugh. "Well, you can pick it up, now," she assured him, leaning her head into his shoulder. "I do love you." She looked back up at him. "This took a lot of courage. Thank you." She stroked his cheek. "Wow, you even shaved. I am special." She coaxed a smile out of him this time.
"I need to apologize first."
Alex looked stunned. "Just when I think you can't surprise me anymore..."
"I've been lousy and surly and jealous the past couple weeks. I had to make sure you were going to have at least a tolerable reaction to all this. If you had had a talk with me about the jealousy, you know, talking about boundaries, I'd have known that I had to stop short. You seemed to be enjoying the way I was acting about, and yes, I know you asked May if it was me. Great little secret keeper, May. I told her you'd show up to investigate, probably taking me along." He looked resigned. "Point is, I'm sorry for testing you like that. Manipulating you. I shouldn't treat you like a perp."
"It's okay, you had a good reason, and like you said, I thought it was funny. You really had me reeling, you know, seeing you so upset about my admirer. Besides, I'm assuming part of that test was that cute little, very little, shirt you wore to the show?" He nodded. "That more than makes up for the rest of your tests. I assume you found my reaction satisfactory?"
He turned pink, an adorable color on him, in Alex's opinion. "Yeah, well, that was very flattering." He licked his lips, still looking nervous. "I made sure to act how I would have acted if I hadn't known about it. Like a jealous idiot, basically. I needed to prove that I could-"
"Keep a secret. Good job: I didn't know it was you. We can do this. Because I know that no matter what may happen to us, our partnership is safe. Nothing can damage that, because I trust you, and I know that nothing you are capable of doing could hurt me enough to make me walk away from you." She straightened herself up, proper. "Now I don't want you to think," she said firmly, "That this means you're just going to hop into my bed right away. It is way too early for that."
"You know I wouldn't- That's not what matters. I-"
"Because it's still early afternoon," she continued. "Supper's usually at six, so we'll see what happens after that, good?"
He laughed. "Whatever you want: I'm not going to rush you."
"I know that. That's the kind of man you are. I'm not making any promises on that front." She paused. "Since I basically haven't moved off your shoulder for more than a few seconds at a time, how about we just go inside, dance to the lovely steel drum - why steel drums anyway?" He shrugged. "...music, and talk there, hm?" She jumped. "Oh, wait a second, 'Arrival'," she said, making a note on her paper. "And the one before that was...'Pick a Bale of Cotton.'"
He was grinning. "You're still writing them down? Why? It doesn't spell anything."
"Nope. I know when you're up to something. We can talk, and at three and a half minute intervals I jot down more of your super-secret coded message. What, it's fun: I love a puz-" she smiled, looking at the ring. "A puzzle. So what about all those insults you were lobbing at your own gifts, anyway?"
"Part of the secret. I hope you didn't take the story about puzzle ring seriously?"
"No, I thought you were being a jealous, petty, adorable little idiot."
"Okay, good, we're on the same page. That is what I've read about it, but it's fitting because we're detectives. I mean, sometimes a cigar...Well, there is one other thing about it. If you take the ring off, if you separate it from you, it falls apart."
"You underestimate yourself, Bobby. Eventually, I'm going to convince you of that. 'Ring Ring'."
"It doesn't spell anything. I could just tell you."
"Don't even think about it. This is great. And about the secret? Nothing's really changed. We are the same. We feel the same. And I'll be less likely to start making out with you in the break room if I know I can make out with you later," she explained.
"And the names?"
She considered this seriously for a moment. "Well, I'm the first partner you've really held onto right? 'Two for the Price of One'."
"That's putting it tactfully, yeah."
"Oh, yeah, that's me, the Queen of Tact. Everyone knows you've been afraid I'll leave, and that I've been trying to convince you that I'm here for good. I've wanted you to be able to see me as a friend. So starting the middle of next week, I'm going to start calling you Bobby."
He considered. "I'll look startled at first, but pleased, then I'll get used to that."
"Right. 'Dancing Queen' Then I'll pull you aside about a week later for a talk to tell you that you really need to start opening up to me a little more as a friend."
"So I should start calling you Alex because it gets a little hurtful when I won't let you be my friend."
"Exactly. 'One of Us'."
"Which one?"
"I'm still spelling. Want to watch a movie? We've got enough to choose from. I think between the two of us, we've got more than fifty movies."
"Between you and your sister?"
"Of course, who do you think I mean? 'Elaine.'"
"I thought her name was Andrea? Oh, spelling, yeah. Where is Andrea, anyway?"
"She went into the other room as soon as you called."
"Well, good grief, she doesn't have to hide in there all day. Call her back in here, I don't want her feeling unwelcome."
"Andrea, I'm not holding you hostage anymore! Come out here and watch a movie with us! 'She's My Kind of Girl!'" she finished just as loud.
"She's still spelling, isn't she, Detective Goren?" Andrea asked, shaking his hand.
"I should've known better than to give her something ridiculous to figure out. It doesn't spell anything. It's nice to meet you."
"Ditto. By the way, do you have a brother?"
"Andrea!" she hissed. 'Number One, Number One'."
"None good enough for an Eames."
"Bummer, a guy like you is hard to find."
Alex's face broke into a smile. "You still into really nice guys with really hot cars?"
"Do you still ask stupid questions?"
Alex smirked conspiratorially at Bobby, handing him the phone. She kissed him on the nose. "'Thank You for the Music'."
"Um, talking to me or spelling?" he wondered.
"Both. And while he is calling his buddy, we are picking a movie," she said to Andrea.
"Oh, Evil Dead 2, here," she said happily.
"'Should I Laugh or Cry?'" she mumbled.
"A little of both, it's slapstick horr- oh."
About five minutes after Evil Dead 2 started, though, Andrea stood up. "I have to get headed home. According to your partner, I need to get ready for a blind date." She grinned.
"'Put On Your White Sombrero'." Bobby poked her. "Oh, sorry," she said looking up from the paper. She stood to hug her sister. "Thanks for coming. Have a great time."
"You, too," she said under her breath as she left the apartment.
Between talking, kissing Bobby and writing down song titles, Alex was completely ignoring poor Bruce Campbell and his wayward hand, not to mention the gallons of blood. Besides, the movie was juvenile and ridiculous.
Bobby thought it was hysterical. But he preferred Alex's brand of diversions, despite the fact that she kept breaking off their kisses to write down songs. ("'Eagle'. There are only two E songs, aren't there? I knew it was spelling something.")
"It doesn't spell anything," he reiterated.
She looked down at her list. "I know when you're full of it, you know. PSTHISPARTDOESNTSPE..." She rolled her eyes. "PS, this part doesn't spell anything."
He was grinning broadly. "I told you."
"I'm still the funny one," Alex said, but she was having trouble talking through a fit of laughter. "You know, we've rubbed off on each other so much, I'm surprised we haven't been accused yet. Everyone already thinks we're having an affair. The ones that don't matter do, anyway, and it's no wonder. So everyone will figure that we would never be stupid enough to be having an affair while we're acting like an old married couple all the time."
"Um, what does that say for our intelligence?"
"Loads. It means we're smart enough to know what the enemy is thinking, and we act exactly the opposite of what they think we should be acting like, if what they suppose is true, which it is."
"I'm getting a headache."
"Don't you dare," she warned. "The fact that you understood a word of what I just said is exactly why we should be together anyway."
"It will be tough," he said seriously. "You're absolutely sure?"
"'Lay All Your Love on Me'," she answered, moving in to kiss him.
And that was the last time she stopped to ponder the song titles.
Sorry it took so long! Hope it was worth it! Happy Valentine's Day!
Next time (One more chappie):
"Goren! Eames! Get in here now!"
Abject terror filled both their faces, and they wondered if it would be the last time they were ever called into the office together again.
(Relax: I'm writing it, remember!?)