A.N. – Okay, Wow, I didn't realize how long it's been since I've updated my baby. What can I say – I've actually had a busy social life lately. Please forgive me. I've made this chapter extra long just to make amends. Thanks to everyone for the magnificently wonderful feedback and reviews. Keep them coming as I'm reaching the hard part of the story.
Big Kisses and Curtsies to Scripted Startlet – who jolts me out of my complacency. Go read anything she's written – it's one of the best times you'll ever have!
1 Police Plaza
"How was your visit to the Hillington estate?" Ross asks, approaching Goren's desk.
"Enlightening," he says, scratching the back of his neck. "This time I talked to Hillington himself and he was very surprised to learn that we had ever talked to his maid about the "Svetlana" phone call."
"Why is that enlightening?"
"That in itself isn't, but the fact that Hillington casually mentioned it to Douglas Winterbourne is. That's how he found out that Patrice knew that Svetlana wasn't really a nanny in their household. My bet, Winterbourne had her followed and when she visited Greg Vilente at Hudson, well, he knew that she would eventually find out where her sister really was."
"Where was she?"
"Um, I still don't know that, but I'm looking into his factories here in the city that have been cited for labor violations. Eames' had the idea that she might be working in one of his facilities, or more likely, one of his sweatshops."
"If Winterbourne is trafficking in illegals and setting them up in his factories, we are going to have to bring the Feds into this," Ross said.
"I know, but Eames needs more time inside to retrieve more evidence on Winterbourne and his involvement with Patrice & Greg's murders," I say, wishing I could say the hell with it and go and pick up Eames' right this afternoon.
"Alright, but if you or Eames can't give me solid evidence soon, I'll have to call in the feds."
Alex POV
The last two weeks have been disappointingly uneventful. My three late night trips into Winterbourne's office have been fruitless, which not only prolongs my stint here, but gives me no excuse to contact Bobby.
Unfortunately, the only new development seems to be Douglas Winterbourne's sudden need to spend as much time with me and the children. He's taken to joining us for our nightly dinners, much to the children's delight and my apprehension.
Tonight, Winterbourne decided to tuck Maya and James into bed himself, but not before asking me to wait for him so we could have coffee together. So, here I sit, stuffed from the roast beef and mashed potatoes, sipping a cup of coffee in front of the fire in the family room with him. I take the opportunity to ingratiate myself by complimenting his skills as a father. And just as Bobby indicated, Winterbourne is a Type A narcissist who loves nothing more than to hear how magnificent he is. My only frustration comes when he deftly deflects my subtle questions about his work.
To my dismay, along with his increased presence in my daily life, he has also taken every opportunity to have as much personal contact as possible. Whether it is a quick touch of his hand on my shoulder or lower back, I can feel his growing interest and wonder what exactly he has in mind.
After an hour of conversation, I plead exhaustion and say goodnight, but not before bending down to retrieve my empty coffee cup.
'Leave it, Alexandra. Rosalita will take care of it," Winterbourne says, taking the cup from my hands and sliding his fingers through mine.
It takes an extraordinary effort to not retch at his closeness and the stroking of his thumb on my knuckles, "You never speak of anyone special in your life, Alexandra. Is there?"
"Special?"
"I hope you don't think me forward, but a woman of substance and beauty, such as yourself…well, I find it hard to believe that there isn't a man waiting for you somewhere. Perhaps even nursing a broken heart?"
He takes the opportunity to invade my personal space a bit more, so much so that I can smell the stale aftershave he applied that morning.
I look up through my lashes, trying to summon a look for sympathy, "Perhaps I'm the one nursing a broken heart?"
"It can't be too broken. You've allowed the children to sneak into your heart. I can tell you care for them.
"Maya and James are wonderful and very easy to love."
"But it's harder for you to open yourself up to a man isn't it?" he says, placing his other hand on my cheek. "But the right kind of man, a man who would see how sweet you are, he can help mend that heart of yours."
"Perhaps. But, Mr. Winterbourne-"
"Douglas."
"Douglas, I am in your employ and this," putting my hand over his, "I'm sorry, but don't you think this is inappropriate?"
"I've offended you?"
"No! I just, I've seen too many of my colleagues get into situations with their employers that have badly damaged their reputation and I just wouldn't-"
"I understand and that's why I like you, Alexandra. You're sharp and honest and I would be hard pressed to name another person in this world that I have met that is as genuine as you are."
I lower my head, allowing my hair to shield my face from his view. It's a deceitful move on my part, trying to come off as flattered by his words instead of the deep revulsion snaking down my spine.
"Goodnight, Alexandra," he says, bringing my hand up to his lips and peppering languid kisses onto the skin of my fingers.
My charade has worked perfectly and as a professional, I should feel the ultimate in satisfaction, I think as I make my way up to my bedroom, walking directly into my private bathroom. But any self-congratulatory praises seem a million miles away, overwhelmed by the burgeoning trepidation pounding in my chest.
I concentrate on the cool soap and water on my hands as I stare at myself in the mirror. Being Alexandra Sullivan makes me yearn to get back to the life of Alexandra Eames.
I don't realize until I lay down that I've managed to wash my hands raw.
1 week later
"You packed Teddy right, Alex?" Maya asks, looking like a pixie in her pink and blue sweater.
"Teddy's sleeping in your backpack," I say, giving her and James a quick hug before dropping them off for their swimming lessons.
"I'll see you guys in an hour when your class is over. I'll be waiting right here, okay?"
"Okay, Alex!" The twins reply in unison, racing each other to their teacher.
I navigate my way down Madison Avenue quickly and open the wooden door to the Corner Art & Bookstore where I need to purchase some new books and art supplies for the kids. The smell of glue and paint transports me back to kindergarten, making me want to buy some new crayons and coloring books. Life was so much easier back then. Your happiness could depend upon a single word from your parents or a game of hide and seek with your friends. Actually, now that I think about it, there isn't much in this world that I need to be happy. I have my work, my family and friends and…
My Bobby.
Well, he's not really mine, but maybe once this is over I can stop being such a coward and jump him. Ok, maybe not jump. With Bobby I'll probably have to dip my toes in one by one before leaping. But oh, the day I can swim in those waters will no doubt be paradise.
Sliding my hands along the bindings of the books lining the back wall of the small store, I'm curious what books Bobby loved as a child.
"I highly recommend Goodnight Moon," a voice startles me from behind.
"Bobby!"
"Shhh," he whispers, holding his index finger up against his lips.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, looking over his shoulder, hoping no one sees us together.
"I wanted to see you."
"We shouldn't-"
"I know, but I also want to give you an update on the case and thought doing in person would be best."
I laugh at the sneaky grin on his face and relax, just wanting to enjoy his mere presence.
"What's up?"
Bobby is now looking towards the front of the store and then gently pulls me towards the back door of the store, waving his badge out to the owner while exiting into their alleyway.
My palm tingles from the heat of his hand curling around mine. It's been so long since we've had any kind of physical contact and the simplest touch of his skin against mine sets my cheeks aflame.
With uncharacteristic abruptness, Bobby hurriedly walks us to the darkest corner of the alley, which thankfully doesn't have a dumpster, just scattered empty crates and boxes.
"Bobby, what's the urgency?" I ask, while he positions me back against the brick wall.
"No, no urgency, it's just…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drag you like that," he says, while his eyes move over every inch of my face.
"I guess this means that you really miss me, huh?" I say, giving him a cheeky grin.
"More than you can possibly fathom," he says, his eyes shining in sincerity.
And just like that, within two minutes of being in Bobby's presence, I know with absolute certainty that I could never live happily without him. This time apart has cemented my feelings for him in a way that I couldn't even imagine.
The blossoming tenderness in my breast makes my breath hitch, which I'm certain Bobby notices as his dark penetrating eyes remain fascinated with the hollow of my neck where I can feel the pounding of my pulse beating frantically against my skin.
His mere proximity heightens all of my senses, making the very air translucent, the sky more vivid and his scent dangerously attractive.
I shudder with excitement and fear at just how much power he has over me by just being near, and by just being the man he is.
"You alright?" Bobby asks, "you're trembling."
Tearing my eyes away from his lips, "I'm fine," I say none to convincingly, "what updates do you have for me?"
Bobby's towering presence takes a step back, and I can tell that I've confused him with my abrupt change of attitude.
"We…well, the phone book you were able to get for us is filled with one ex-con after another, conveniently with a set of symbols indicating their usefulness and particular talent."
"Thank god," I say, exhaling the breath I was holding in anticipation of hearing that there were no decent leads to be found with the evidence I procured.
"Anyone in particular stand out?" I ask.
"Quite a few, but one specifically," Bobby says, his eyes brightening in that familiar way they do when he gets excited about a potential lead.
"Well, c'mon, don't hold out on me, Goren," I tease, playfully pushing at his shoulder.
"A guy by the name of Lucien Mileski," he says, "he's got a mile long rap sheet both in the U.S. as well as the Netherlands and Thailand."
"I bet he's got a ton of frequent flyer miles."
"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Bobby says, too enraptured with the facts to catch my feeble attempt at humor.
"He's still wanted in Thailand as well as a few countries in Europe for questioning in multiple racketeering and assault cases," Bobby continues. "There's been no activity on his passport, but I tracked him down off of his last known address."
"Did you talk to him?"
"No, but I have him being tailed night and day and so far, he's living up to his record."
"Bad?"
Bobby nods his head, "We've seen him communicating with some members of the Masucci family and let's just say, his entourage, their not exactly the boy scouts."
"But that doesn't help with solving the homicides," I say, feeling frustrated.
"I just need to catch him doing the wrong thing, Eames," he says, placing his hands on my shoulders, "and when he does and I get him in an interrogation room, he'll be done for. Just keep doing what you're doing and we'll get there, I promise."
"So, speaking of doing what you're doing - how's it being a nanny?" he asks, trying to bring some levity to our suddenly too-serious conversation.
"Exhausting," I say, "I thought chasing after you was hard work, but these kids have more energy then they know what to do with."
Bobby gives me one of his small smiles. "And Winterbourne? How's that going?"
Shit. As much as I wanted to talk to Bobby, this was not a subject I am eager to discuss, but we always promised to tell each other the truth, no matter what.
"Well, he certainly trusts me now, and that helps when I need to do some sneaking around."
"What makes you so certain that he genuinely trusts you?" Bobby asks, and I can tell by the look in his eyes and his tense posture that his brain is working overtime.
"Well…I think, he might have a little...I don't know, a crush on me."
I expected his anger. I definitely expected his anxiety along with his usual pacing and colorful diatribes. So color me surprised when Robert Goren, a man who is never without words, turns stone silent on me. I would've been concerned about his hearing if I hadn't started to see the ugly crimson flooding down his face, down until it escaped into the collar of his shirt.
"Has he been harassing you?" He asks, in a low concerned voice.
"I wouldn't call it harassing…he's just dropped hints that he's interested in pursuing a different kind of relationship with me."
"That's it!" Bobby says, a bit too loud considering our meeting should be as secretive as possible. "You need to get out of there, it's getting to dangerous."
"Bobby, I'm not in any danger, if anything it helps me gain his trust even more."
"What are you saying? You can't possibly be considering using his feelings to get more information?"
"Bobby, after years of dating liars, I know how to handle someone like Winterbourne," I say, "if I shut him down altogether he could make things very difficult for me in the house. Listen, I worked in Vice long enough to learn just how far you need to take things to get the evidence you need. I promise, I can handle this."
"Has he…, I mean…has he touched you?" Bobby asks, while rubbing the nape of his neck.
"Nothing too explicit, just some subtle hand touching…I think he believes he can seduce me through the children by manipulating my feelings for them."
"Goddamnit," Bobby says in a furious tone, "this is not what I was planning on when you went undercover. I thought having someone inside would be-"
"Bullshit, Bobby," I say, my voice surprisingly calm. "I might not always know exactly what you are thinking, but you knew putting an undercover in Winterbourne's house would include mild flirtation on the policewoman's part. You just never imagined that it would be me inside instead of some twenty-something rookie."
"Listen, I just want to make sure that your cover is still intact and that you are going to come out of this safe. I couldn't-"
"Bobby," I say, gently grabbing his hand in mine to stop his pacing, "don't get mad, but you're doing the overprotective thing again. Does this have anything to do with your mom? We haven't had the chance to discuss anything else but the case and I was just wondering-"
"She's fine…I mean, not really, but as well as can be expected. She's going to be transferred back to Carmel Ridge soon where she can be comfortable and around her things when she…"
"I'm sorry, Bobby," I say, the words clogging my throat while I wrap my arms around his waist. "I feel so selfish leaving you at a time like this."
"No, don't apologize," he says, pushing me back so that we are face to face. "You needed this and the world can't stop turning because of my family problems."
"I know, but…no matter good you think you are at handling things on your own…I always like to think that you know I'm just a phone call away. Unfortunately, it's more complicated now and I can't just come running if you need me."
"Just knowing that you feel that way makes everything alright, Eames," Bobby says, placing his warm, large hand on my cheek. "So, don't worry about me and just concentrate on the task at hand. The sooner we get these guys, the faster I get you back."
My eyelids shutter closed in absolute contentment from not only the wonderful words falling from Bobby's lips, but from the searing heat of his palm against my cheek. I nuzzle my face into his strong, slightly calloused hand, forgetting everything around us, surrendering to the pull of my emotions for him.
"I've miss you, Bobby," I whisper slowly into his hand, enjoying the feel of my lips sliding over his rough and salty skin.
My senses are quickly pulled away from the heat of his hand's touch, replaced by the sensation of Bobby's lush talented lips pressing against my neck, just to the left of my earlobe. My body becomes infused with a blistering soul-flaming heat as the coolness of his mouth is intensified by the slick slide of his tongue, now traveling across my collarbone.
My eyes open and widen, finding Bobby crouched in front of me, intensifying his languid assault upon my skin. I tunnel my fingers into the thick set of curls in front of me, as if trying to convince myself that this is all real, and not one of the many nightly dreams I've come to dread and anticipate over the past few years.
"Oh, Bobby," I say, not recognizing the passionate, almost gratuitous moans escaping my mouth.
And then he speaks into the hollow of my throat, whispering endearments and promises and everything I've ever dreamed of in between worshipful kisses and scintillating tongue curls. Bobby's words are like warm luxurious honey, silken and full-bodied, stunning me and lulling me further into his embrace.
"Oh, I missed you," he says, leaving the shelter of my neck and returning to his full height.
"Eames," he says, placing his hands through my hair and tipping my face up towards his, "I know this probably rates as one of the worst-timed confessions ever, but…I've never missed anyone like I've missed you. It's…I've never needed anyone, I've always had to depend on myself and I've been okay with that. But I'm not satisfied with just being okay anymore…not when I can see the glimmer of the possibility of being more…with you."
His beautiful face is blurred as the pools of unshed tears flood my eyes. Never would I imagine such a passionate declaration from Bobby, much less the fact of opening himself, his deep held feelings to me. It's as if a small miracle has been granted to me and at the most inconvenient time, I've found myself utterly speechless.
Happily and shockingly without the words to express my affection and gratitude for being given this moment.
"I feel…god, I can't even find the words, Bobby…I-"
"Wow," he smiles sweetly, "if I knew kissing you would make you so amiable, I would have done it years ago."
Stunned, my head whips up at his teasing. "Hey, when have I-"
The smart-ass remark is quickly forgotten by the force of Bobby's kiss. The hunger of his lips on mine and the cleverness of his hands, swirling circular patterns on the exposed skin of my back, urges me on as I slip my tongue into mouth.
Under my hands I can feel the thunderous groan escaping the confines of Bobby's chest. My hands move to explore the vast expense of his back, enjoying the sinew of muscle underneath his shirt. The sweet slide of our lips and tongues and the bite of his fingers at my waist conjure up images of the two of us, my legs tightly wrapped around his waist while he pushes into me. I feel the deep throb between my legs as I imagine pushing down onto his hardness, matching his thrusts as I slide up and down on him.
Just as my hands are about to wander to Bobby's belt buckle, I hear the tell-tale ring of my cell phone. Startled at the sound, our lips break apart and my eyes open to the image of Bobby – face flush, chest heaving and lips slightly tinged with my pink lip gloss.
Grabbing my phone from my coat pocket, the caller identification shows that it is James. With a quick flip of the phone, I quickly listen to James letting me know that their swim class has ended a bit early.
"Ok, sweetie, I'll be there in a few minutes. Watch out for your sister until I get there, alright kiddo?"
As I end the call, I look back into Bobby's eyes and see emotions somewhere in between relief and exhilaration.
Poor Bobby, loving me has really complicated your life, hasn't it?
"I have to go and pick up the kids," I say, not knowing how I'm going to be able to walk away from him at this most precious moment.
"I know. We've probably spent too much time together as it is. I don't want to put you in any kind of jeopardy."
"Oh, I think it was time well spent, don't you?"
The brightness of his eyes tells me all I need to know.
I give him a smile and begin to turn back to the alley opening when words never once uttered from Bobby's mouth reach my ears.
"What? No kiss goodbye?"
Turning back, I watch his legs move in long, graceful strides towards me. Once he reaches his destination, he leans down finding my eyes.
"When this is over and you are back where you belong, we are going to talk about the future," he says, giving me one more overwhelmingly powerful kiss.
As I reluctantly pull away, I close my eyes and hide my face in the lapels of his suit jacket.
"Bobby?" My grip tightening on his jacket, wrinkling the fine, expensive material.
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
And not a second after the words leave my mouth do I quickly turn and run out towards the sunlight and the busy street, never once looking back.
