A/N 1: Thank you to sell, Dee, jules & the many anonymous reviewers who have let me know how much you enjoyed Chapter 9! Now that I'm finally on vacation after almost a year I was able to polish this chapter. I appreciate all my amazing, supportive readers for understanding and respecting that I fit writing into my busy life exactly as much as I can, and only publish chapters once I think they are good enough for you. ;-)

To answer sell's comment in reviews, if I ever decide to leave the Fandom I would absolutely let my readers know. I have every intention of finishing all my WIPs save one. I believe that my almost 50 completed fics stand as testament to my reliability as an author.

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CHAPTER TEN: CAN'T COME BACK FROM THAT?

I wish she was.

He didn't just want to fuck, or to play. Her partner wanted to marry her. She had no doubt his declaration was serious.

Of course he was serious. He wouldn't risk so much for a fling.

Almost every word he'd said to her since accepting the Colorado City gig had been playing in Alex's mind non-stop since she'd bolted from the observation cubicle Sunday afternoon. Not just flirting and innuendo… Bobby loved her. Did she love him back?

Facing Bobby back at 1PP Tuesday morning had been hard. By mercilessly clamping down on her feelings, she'd managed to make it through the first few minutes without trembling, and then routine had come to her rescue and allowed her to glide into business-as-usual. Bobby had been blessedly bland and distracted – if somewhat wistful – in the ensuing days. She needed him to be. A world of possibilities was springing to life in place of the path she'd surveyed for herself, but she couldn't bring herself to risk acting on the imperatives of her heart and body; she needed to know it was the right decision.

What had gotten into him, mounting that one-man theatrical production in the middle of a sting? Did he think she'd find it charming?

Alex had to reluctantly admit that she did. But it also irked her, and de-anesthetised the sting from some old wounds.

For almost their whole partnership, Bobby had taken the lead in their investigations – with her consent and despite her status as senior partner. But almost without exception, he had taken his cues from her in their relationship. When she was happy, he was jolly. When she was subdued, he followed suit. When she volunteered a private story or reminiscence he reciprocated, and when her lips articulated a thin straight line, it was if his were sewn shut.

Alex had been more than content to maintain this particular status quo; it gave her a feeling of power and control in a relationship that kept her otherwise consistently off balance.

It wasn't until now that she came face-to-face with the truth about the consequences of that power imbalance… a truth that at once shamed her with its obviousness and freed her from over a decade of insecurity.

The greatest heartbreak in her relationship with her partner had not been Testarossa… rather, it had been all the times she'd heard surprising news from him during interrogations. Every soul-flaying revelation had wounded her deeply, surfaced every submerged fear about her value to her partner. How could she have not interpreted things thusly? And yet, she might have been wrong.

Had her reticence and titanium-reinforced professionalism left him no avenue for intimacy that had not been initiated by her? And what would that mean for their future relationship? From the lightness in her heart sprang forth a lighthearted speculation.

'Hello Mr. So-and-So, I'm Detective Goren. I'm here to let you know that I'd really prefer to get married by a Justice of the Peace… I hope my partner is OK with that.'

'Hello Ms. Whatsit. I'm Detective Goren and this is Detective Eames. I think once every other week, or even once a month, is a preferable frequency with which to socialise with one's brother. What do you think?'

'Hello Mr. and Mrs. Fugeddaboutit, I'm Detective Goren; thank you for taking time out of your day to meet with us. I think it's time for my partner to stop pouring so much energy into her nephew. What about having one of our own?

The little daydream made her smile, even though the scenarios were obviously ridiculous. If Bobby needed her to set the tone for their emotional intimacy, then she guessed she'd have to figure out a way to open up a bit. That prospect was actually the most terrifying thing about accepting Bobby's proposition.

"Plans tonight?" Bobby asked her as he shuffled a pile of papers and shoved them into his folio. Despite her strict enforcement of professional boundaries as she sorted out everything they'd been through this past week, his nonchalance irritated her, so she merely shrugged.

"Another date?" Her partner's voice cracked on the last syllable, and close inspection revealed that his hands were trembling.

I broke us.

She saw suddenly that what she'd said to him earlier hadn't been enough. When she'd reminded him with murmured syllables that they weren't the Marshal and his wife. It hadn't been enough to convey the grace and absolution she wanted him to feel. To ease his anxiety after she'd spent a week privately mulling over her own future, with little consideration for what it felt like for him to be waiting on her decision.

"I was broken, and you were, but you never broke us Bobby," she blurted without thinking.

Bobby nodded, looked at his hands shaking and stuck them in his pockets. "So you heard? I wasn't sure, you were gone by the time I went looking for you."

Oh please, of course she heard, glued to his every word as usual. And of course he knew that full well. As the tiny smile on his still-boyish lips gave away.

His words echoed her thoughts. "Of course you did. Otherwise, why would you have been avoiding me all week?" He spoke lightly but a tightness in his eyes and voice articulated the underlying anxiety in his question.

Alex huffed. "Avoiding you? I was not." What the heck happened? They were almost out of here, and now she was hip-deep in an intimate, life-altering conversation with her partner right in the middle of the bullpen. "I was…" Pinned and wriggling. And even that disgusting metaphor was a bit of a turn-on, the way her partner was looking at her. Oh please let nobody see. Nobody from the NYPD at least.

"Considering?" He asked hopefully.

"Maybe," she replied, sticking her chin out and grabbing her purse out of a drawer.

"Then I look forward to hearing what you decide, Eames."

I thank you so much for waiting

For this chap without too much hating

If you'd be so kind

As kind words to find

To encourage some Goren-Eames mating.

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A/N 2: I so wanted Eames to put her mind grapes in a mind vice, but it would have taken us out of the scene. I DID say 10 chapters… hmmmmm… is this the end?

WORDS: 1205 UPLOADED Tuesday, June 16, 2015