Author's Note: Wanna give everyone who gave me reviews a big kiss. You made my day and they keep me from slacking off on my updating! Please keep 'em coming.
Chapter 7
"We are," Eames says. "We are all wrong right now."
Never let it be said that my partner isn't a straight talker. In typical Eames' no-nonsense fashion, she's managed to find a few small words to rip a gaping hole in heart.
The ache in my chest widens when the soft light of the kitchen illuminates her eyes and I only find pain and despair in her usually soothing depths. She's dripping, shivering and vibrating with a mixture of agony and something I can't quite pinpoint.
"Eames, let me get you a towel or someth-"
"Wait, Bobby," she says, grabbing my arm and halting my movement toward the linen closet. "Before you freak out on me, please know that I'm not looking, nor will I be asking for a new partner. I just need to talk to you."
"Okay," I say, guiding her to a chair at my kitchen table. "What can I do? More importantly, how can I fix this?"
She's rubbing her fingers over her eyes in a sign of exhaustion, but at the same time there's a sad smirk on her lips.
"You're laughing now?" I ask confused.
"No, Bobby," she says, "it's just I'm so used to you having such emotional insight into people that I sometimes forget that, well, that you would approach this kind of situation like a typical guy."
"I am a guy," I say confused and a just a little perturbed at her assessment. "And I really don't know how to approach this, because I don't know what's going on."
"I know and that's my fault," Eames says, her eyes searching mine.
"Bobby, I'm sorry about today. I should have discussed it with you before railroading you in front of Ross."
"Eames, please, I was acting like a jackass. I've just been concerned about you and I overreacted before even listening to your reasons."
"I know," she says, pushing errant strands of wet hair out of her face. "Bobby, there has been so much going on between work, your mother and my…well, for lack of a better word, recovery, that we haven't even taken the time to talk again. To…be the friends we used to be."
"Well," I say, taking a deep breath, "that's probably where I need to apologize. I haven't exactly been the most approachable person nowadays."
"Bobby, I'm tired of apologizing and even more tired of hearing you say you are sorry, so please, just let me get this all out and then you can talk, okay?"
I nod my head, promising her my silence.
"Ever since the whole Gage disaster, I've been questioning my ability on the job-"
"Eames!"
"Bobby, you promised," she says, leaning further towards me with pleading eyes.
"Ok," I whisper, raising my hands in a sign of acquiescence.
"I did push myself after the kidnapping and I probably should have waited a little longer to come back to work. It took a lot of effort to reassure the department shrink that I was ready for active duty, so the last thing I wanted to do after realizing I was floundering was go crawling back and admitting that I wasn't alright."
"Bobby," she says in a hushed girlish voice as she takes my hand, "You and I are a great team and our partnership means the world to me. But, I can't help but wonder if I would be as effective in my job if you weren't my partner."
Eames tightens the grasp she has on my hand as her words make me shiver anxiously.
"That's what's been nagging me for these past months. I mean, without my work, what do I really have going on in my life? My family is great but if you summed up my life tomorrow you'd only have a quick summary involving a dead husband and a closet full of sensible shoes. I've come to define myself totally on my reputation and skill as a police officer."
"So, the question is, if I can't be sure of my abilities on the job, who the hell am I? That's why I was so adamant about this case and my place in it. Bobby, this is my chance to prove something to myself. To get my confidence back."
After listening for a few minutes to the sounds of her soft, ragged breathing, I feel it's safe enough to talk.
"So this is why you were so hell-bent in Ross' office."
"Yes," she says, tangling her fingers up with mine. "I need this, Bobby. But I also need you to know that I'm coming back to you after this is over."
"I know," I say quietly. "It's just…"
"Just what, Bobby?" she prods me in her own tender way.
"I can't stand the thought of something happening to you. I swear, I…I know you can handle yourself," I say, rubbing the clean soft skin of her fingertips, "but I'm not going to lie, I'm going to worry about you when we are apart."
"Just like I'll be worrying about you," she says, a soft smile appearing on her luminous face.
"Yeah."
So we sit, holding onto each other's hands while the soft moonlight spills through my kitchen windows. Eames' grip tightens every now and again and it takes everything in me to not pull her into my lap and keep her in my safe embrace for the next fifty years.
But that would be a purely selfish act. She's opened herself to me and I know that somewhere deep down inside of herself, in the place where she shelters her soft desires and thoughts, she needs me to support her in this decision, no matter how terrified I am at the prospect of being apart from her for god knows how long. Eames' has given me so much – her friendship, trust and loyalty, and I want her to know that she has that from me, too.
This is what she wants. What she needs.
"Okay, Eames," I whisper, leaning down and pressing my lips gently and quickly onto our joined hands, "I've got your back."
One of her hands burrows into my hair and soothes my scalp with tiny circular motions, and when I'm just about to sit up, I hear her soft voice.
"Thank you, Bobby."
The gentle timbre of her voice stirs my blood. So, I stay, forehead pressed against our entangled hands and gobble up every second I have with her.
