Chapter 10: Elysium

Wallace Monroe had worked in the Chief of Detective's office ever since an injury took him off active duty a few years ago. Before that, he'd been a decorated detective. He'd gotten to his position by playing department politics like a pro, and not getting caught when he broke the rules.

Back when Bob Dwight worked in New York, Detective Monroe had let him off the hook on a possession charge, and been rewarded with a bigger payday than he earned in months of honest work.

His post allowed him access to documents related to undercover operations. He alerted Dwight every time he found out about a raid being directed against him, and he'd told him about Officer Margo Suzuki's investigation.

Wallace walked through the park, trying not to look nervous. He'd taken an early lunch break, like he often did. He ate a greasy slice of street vendor pizza as he walked.

Dwight was sitting at the bench beside the jogging trail. It was hidden from the sidewalk by a grove of thick trees, making it a good inconspicuous meeting place. Dwight's henchmen Victor was standing off to the side, leaning against a tree and pretending to be texting on his cellphone.

Wallace sat next to Dwight. "I want an extra thousand next time."

"Why?" Dwight asked mildly.

"I figured out what happened in Jersey. You shot seven people."

"Just drug dealers. What is it you cops say? No humans involved?"

"Still...it's making things riskier for me."

"You did that when you told me about Suzuki. You knew what would happen to her."

"I never told you to kill her. I think they might have sent someone else after you."

"Last night you said you didn't know," Dwight pointed out.

"Last night I hadn't made the connection. I didn't see anything about an undercover at the office, but a few days ago I heard a detective at the bar brag about working with a guy from the Major Case Squad. This guy, this Major Case detective, has kind of a reputation. Pretty much he doesn't work well with other cops except his regular partner, so I figured if he was teaming with someone else, his partner had to be gone. I pulled her record this morning, and it turns out she used to work with Suzuki back in Vice." He handed him a photograph he'd printed out. "Detective Alex Eames. Watch your back. These guys are serious business."

Dwight's eyes narrowed as he took the photo. "Lily."

Wallace glanced nervously at an Asian man jogging past them on the trail. "I think we should get out of here," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure I bumped into that guy outside my office earlier." He picked up the manila envelope containing the money and started walking in the opposite direction.

A group of people walked by. One of them carried a doughnut box. Wallace walked slowly, trying not to draw attention to himself.

"Hey, Wallace!" a young man called out.

He tensed.

The empty doughnut box opened and the five FBI agents grabbed their guns from it. One of them pointed his gun at Wallace, the others aimed at Dwight and Victor.

King jogged back to the bench. "Robert Dwight, you're under arrest for eight counts of murder, sale of controlled substances, solicitation, and bribing an officer of the law. And that's just until we're done searching your place in Atlantic City. Wallace Monroe, conspiracy to commit murder and accepting bribes. Victor James, let's start with the murder of a police officer and see where it goes from there."

"I have the right to know the evidence against me," Dwight said as one of the agents put him in handcuffs.

"Besides the testimony of Detective Eames and the gun we just found on your friend over there, which I'm sure will match at least some of the bullets in the bodies, we have..." King pressed a button on a small recording device he was carrying.

"...about Suzuki. You knew what would happen to her."

"Your own words," King concluded as he pressed the button to stop it. He walked up to Wallace and picked off the tiny adhesive microphone he'd planted on his jacket when he bumped into him outside the Chief of Detective's office. "You should have been more attentive, Monroe. But then, if you were a good detective you would have known better than to go into business with a guy like Bob Dwight."

While Dwight was maintaining his cool and trying to think of how to present his defense, Victor's eyes were blazing with rage. "When you see this Detective Eames," he said, "tell her that her days are numbered."

"She already owns a calendar," King quipped. "It's the number of your days you should be worried about; you might lose track of them while spending the rest of your life in a prison cell. Take them away."

Captain Ross couldn't wait until Eames returned. Goren was useless without her.

He watched the detective from his office window. Goren was sitting at his desk, trying to fill out a report. He was unable to stay still, and fidgeted with his pen, flipped through the papers without really seeing them, and looked at Eames' empty chair at least once a minute. Ross was considering encouraging Goren to take some vacation time.

At that moment, the elevator doors opened and Agent King walked in, with Eames beside him. Goren didn't look in their direction until Eames said something to draw his attention. He stood up quickly, and the three of them continued to the captain's office.

"Agent King," he said in greeting. "Detectives."

"I wanted to thank you for lending me Eames," King said. "Thanks to her, Bob Dwight and his gang are going away for a very, very long time."

"That's good to hear."

"It looks like Dwight was trying to set up some kind of blackmail scheme through the Zabka Hotel. Several of its rooms were rigged with hidden cameras. I personally reviewed the footage, and unfortunately didn't find anything incriminating. Which means, I'm afraid, that we don't have enough to charge Troy Zabka."

It also meant whatever was on those surveillance videos wouldn't become public knowledge. Goren felt a weight lift off his chest.

"I guess we'll just have to keep an eye on him," Ross commented.

"I'll be in touch if we find any evidence in Dwight's files that we can use against him. It was an honor working with you, Detectives." King left.

"Eames, is there any follow-up work you need to get done on this case?" Ross inquired.

"I already filled out the reports at the FBI field office," she replied. "And let me tell you, I'm not going to be complaining about the amount of paperwork you make us do for a while."

Ross chuckled at her joke. "Then why don't you both take the rest of the day off. I'm sure you could use it."

"Thanks captain," Eames said.

They made it out in time to share the elevator with Agent King. "Your captain let you go early?"

"Yeah," Goren replied.

"He seems like a nice guy."

Goren and Eames were silent for several seconds, then Goren said, "Thank you. For..."

"Your welcome."

"If there's ever anything I can do to repay you..."

"Your partner helped me take down a very bad man," King said. "It was the least I could do."

Eames spoke up. "Still, if you ever need our help again, just give us a call."

King nodded. "I might do that." He glanced at both of them as the elevator doors opened. "I'll see you at the trial."

The two detectives didn't speak as they walked through the parking garage. Bobby hadn't been sure what would happen when Eames got back, how she would feel, what she would say.

"You hungry?" Eames asked. She looked at him, and when he didn't answer, said, "I'll buy you dinner. We need to talk."

In a private booth at a Korean restaurant, Eames watched her partner over a dish of noodles. He kept his eyes down, resolutely not looking at her. She didn't know how he felt about what had happened. She hoped he felt the same way she did. It had been her idea, her initiative; if he didn't have feelings for her, then it would be best to just forget it ever happened. So she waited for him to say something first.

He tried to think of where to begin, but nothing came to mind. All he could think about was kissing her.

After several silent minutes, Eames began. "You know, Bobby, we're both grown-ups. We can discuss this."

"I know."

"We've worked together for so long, there's no reason for us to be all weird about it."

"Right."

"It's not like we've never broken rules for each other before," she added.

"Right."

"And considering how many times we've pretended to be married, that wasn't really that different. Just the next step, really."

"That's...true," he said, uncertain of where she was going.

"Besides, we had to. If they'd found out we were cops..."

"They would have killed you."

"And you, too. You know I'd do anything for you, Bobby."

He wasn't sure what she meant by that. Did she mean she cared about him, or that she regarded their night together as nothing more than something she had to do to protect him?

"And you have to know that if I could think of any other way, I never would have dragged you into that."

He blinked. "I...I know. It's okay. Eames..."

She waited for a moment, but he was once again at a loss for words. "So what we did while we were undercover doesn't have to change the way we work together. I mean, we are professionals."

"Yeah," he said.

"And you know I would never do anything to take advantage of you."

"Right. Neither would I. I...um...Eames...You know...there's no one I respect more than you. I wouldn't do anything to...hurt your career. Or...our friendship."

"Exactly. And there's no reason we have to. It was just an act. People do and say things they don't mean all the time when they're undercover. We don't have to talk or even think about it again. We can just move on like nothing happened."

Goren looked down at his food, which was suddenly unappetizing. He'd been almost sure that she'd wanted to as much as he had. But now she was saying it had just been part of being undercover. He felt a little bit of relief that at least he wouldn't lose her; they would go back to being partners, their relationship wouldn't change. But he was also hurt, because their night together had meant something to him that it apparently hadn't meant to her. He rubbed his finger across his lips and tried not to breathe. "Right. We can do that," he said, trying not to let his pain show.

She nodded. "Okay. I'm glad we talked about this."

"Yeah."

A few seconds later, he looked up at her in sudden confusion. She'd scoffed.

"Really?" she asked. "You, Detective Bobby Goren, the best profiler in the NYPD...you're really just going to sit there and let me lie like that? That wasn't just an act. Not all of it. For either of us." She'd been trying to get him to definitively state whether or not he had feeling for her without pressuring him by telling him she was in love with him. When she saw his pain, she realized that he wouldn't; he would suffer anything to do what he thought she wanted, even if it meant denying his own feelings. When he still didn't say anything, she added, with the slightest trace of uncertainty, "Was it?"

"Eames," he said quickly, filling her name with layers of emotions. She'd asked him, so he could tell her the truth now. It was time to tell her he loved her. But he couldn't force the words through the walls he'd built up over years to protect himself and her. "For a long time...When you went on maternity leave, I realized that I couldn't...handle...things...without you. You meant more to me...mean more to me than anyone or anything else."

She toyed with her food. "You could've said something."

"I couldn't risk losing you." He shook his head slightly. "Besides...so could you."

"I should have," she agreed. "I guess...I wasn't afraid of losing you, but I guess I just didn't want things to be weird between us. I had no idea you felt that way about me. I was sure you would have said something if you did."

"You were always so good at keeping your personal and professional lives separate."

She flicked her hair out of her face and looked at him. "That may be true, but I want you in both of them."

He looked up. She was saying this even knowing everything wrong with his life, knowing better than anyone how unstable he could be, how troubled he was. He hadn't been with anyone for years, and it wasn't just because he loved Eames and was willing to devote his life to her even if it meant going home to an empty bed every night. He hadn't even dated ever since he found out his father was a serial killer, because he would have felt guilty about hiding it and he was sure no woman would want to be with him knowing it. But she already knew, and she was saying she still wanted to be with him. "Are you sure about that?" he asked quietly.

She reached across the table and took his hand, lightly sliding her fingers between his. "Are you?"

He gazed at her face, no longer willing or able to look away. "Yeah."

"Come home with me?"

"Do you think that's...a little fast?"

"I think we've waited long enough."

His brain fogging with her touch, he could only nod.

Alex led Bobby into her house, into her bedroom. They sat on the edge of her bed and only gazed at each other for long moments.

Bobby reached out and caressed the contours of her face. "Alex," he whispered.

She smiled gently, closed her eyes. He slowly bent down, taking his time, kissed her. She pressed herself into it.

No cameras to perform for, no fear of death compelling them. This kiss was all theirs.

Cupping the back of her head, her hair clasped between his fingers, he pull her deeper. His other hand held her shoulder, then wandered down her back, down the curve of her waist, coming to rest on her hip.

As their kisses intensified, she shifted her leg so that she was straddling his lap. He laid back, pulling her along with him. Breaking away from his lips, she undid the top button of his shirt, then placed a kiss on his chest. She made her way down, kissing his skin after each button came loose. He closed his eyes and shivered with anticipation when she reached his belt.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" she inquired.

He nodded. "Alex," he breathed. "I can't even tell you...can't even describe how great this is."

She smiled. "I think I have a pretty good guess." More quietly, still smiling, she said, "I'll be right back." She left the bed and returned a moment later with a condom.

Bobby couldn't believe this was actually happening, that this was real. He stood up and circled around her. He slipped his hands around her slender waist, then lifted off her shirt. He trailed his fingertips over the silk-smooth skin of her back, exploring every inch of it. He unhooked her bra strap. She let her bra fall to the floor. Her eyes closed as she focused on the feeling of his fingers and breath on her skin.

"Are you cold?" he asked as he ran his hands down her arms.

"No."

He took the condom from her hand, and she heard his pants fall to the floor. Then his hands were on her waist again, and he began kissing her back, her shoulders, up and down the indentation of her spine, the back of her neck.

Eames felt like her knees were getting weak. That had never happened to her before. She leaned back, resting her head on his chest.

His fingers began toying with the top of her pants. "Eames, is this okay?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes!"

He slid her pants and underwear off her hips. She kicked them aside.

She covered his hands with her own, and slid one slowly up to her breasts, the other down.

He pulled her up against him. His hand ran over her curls, then slipped in to the wet warmth between her thighs. He kissed her neck.

"Bobby," she breathed as his fingers slid inside her. "Oh my God."

He walked her to the bed. She laid back, her hair spilled over her pillow. He took a moment to look at her, drinking in the fullness of her beauty in the moonlight. He caressed her breasts as he placed a quick kiss on her lips before moving down her body. He kissed her nipple, then sucked on it as his thumb rubbed the other one. Then he moved lower, kissing her stomach, then her hip. He kissed the inside of one of her thighs, then the other.

Eames moaned. She felt his kisses move deeper. His lips. His tongue. Her hands dug into the blankets beneath her as euphoria spread from his kiss up to her brain. A sharp cry escaped her throat as her rapture boiled over, convulsing through her body. She lay back panting.

"Are you okay?" Bobby asked.

She sat up and kissed him hard. Then she pushed him down onto the bed and moved on top of him, looking at him with a mix of adoration and desire. "Perfect," she answered. "Are you ready?"

He nodded.

Eames closed her eyes and gasped as she finally enfolded him, felt herself fill with a delicious pressure. She began to move rhythmically over him. Wave after wave of pleasure moved through them, each one more forceful, insistent. They whispered and moaned and cried out each others names until the bliss became unbearable and culminated with a final pulse of ecstasy.

She lay down on top of him, resting her face against his neck and breathing heavily. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back. He couldn't remember ever feeling happier or more at peace than he did at this moment. He felt different, and it took him a minute to figure out what was missing: loneliness. The sense of isolation that had been a part of him since his childhood was gone. He was with her; nothing separated them either physically or emotionally.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too."

Her words surprised him; not just because he'd thought she was asleep, but because it was hard to believe that he could be so lucky, that he could be the one she loved. "What?"

She propped herself up and looked into his eyes. She knew better than anyone how difficult his life had been, how much he had suffered. She knew how much it meant to him to hear it, to believe it. "I love you, Bobby." She kissed him, then snuggled against him, pulling the blankets their activities had dislodged over them. They fell asleep.