Commute to work
Mike Logan beat his hands on the steering wheel along to the rhythm of the song he had cranked up so loud that he could not hear the traffic honking around him. His eyes darted to the clock on his dash, he was cutting it close. He fidgeted in his seat a bit, the traffic not giving an inch. He considered calling in, maybe he needed to respond to something, anything that would make it legit for him to put his lights on and get around this parking lot of traffic.
The song on the radio had ended, and he realized that now he was just beating on his steering wheel out of frustration. He yanked out his cell and dialed his partner.
"I'm only 6 blocks away." Mike said, teeth gritted. "Anything, anything so I don't have to suffer through these 6 blocks?" Mike asked hopefully. He realized that he was practically begging for something to have gone horribly wrong somewhere in the city so that Major Case would catch the crime. He almost felt guilty, but frustration won out, and he really wished that Ross would send him turning around without clocking in at the squad room.
"Nothing urgent." His partner replied. "No one was hideously murdered so that you might not have to suffer through those last 6 blocks." His partner read his mind.
"Oh someone was hideously murdered all right, it happens all the time." Logan replied. "I'm just hoping someone notices the blood, or the smell, or the absence of that special someone in the next few minutes and calls it in before I jump out of the car and hideously murder whoever the hell is creating this traffic."
Alex Eames sat patiently in traffic idly drumming her fingers on the top of her steering wheel. She glanced at her clock on her dash. Even if traffic kept moving at this snail's pace, she figured she probably would still make it into the squad on time. Usually she cut it kind of early, so the unexpected delay was only impacting the cup of coffee she liked to buy before heading up to the squad room. Sometimes she liked the quiet of her car in the morning without Goren fidgeting, shuffling through papers, tapping the glass of the window, surfing across the radio stations. So, this morning she did not mind the traffic.
Bobby Goren felt like he had spent forever on the subway that morning. He was exhausted, he hadn't slept well the night before. The subway had kept stopping and starting, so he had ended up getting off a stop earlier than usual. He thought he could probably walk faster than the subway was moving. He regretted the decision as soon as he hit the blast of cold winter air. He was tired, he was hungry, and his back hurt. And now, he was freezing. He pulled his cap down around his ears and his scarf up around his face and tried to pick up the pace. He was maybe 4 blocks from work when he spotted Eames sitting in her warm and toasty car, kind of poking along in traffic. Perfect timing, he thought, he had some papers in his bag he wanted to look over and talk through with her. So, he watched her car for a moment, and when she came to a stop he stepped off the curb and tapped on the passenger side window. He could see her look at him, a bit of surprise in her eyes. She rolled down the window without unlocking the door.
"Eames, unlock the door." Bobby said.
"Really?" She asked, "You'll probably beat me there if you keep walking." She offered, but Bobby didn't catch the clue. He simply wanted to get into the warm car and sit down, and by talking with her about the case he would kind of be starting his work day.
"Unlock the door." Bobby furrowed his brow and repeated his request. Eames resigned herself to the inevitable and rolled up the window, unlocking the door to let him in.
Author's note: Persimmon offered this one – "stuck in traffic to and/or from work". I commute/work in a major city. This morning I felt like Mike Logan. Thanks for reading/ reviewing.