Disclaimer: I don't own anything connected to Law & Order: Criminal Intent but if Dick Wolf is feeling generous I'm always willing to take delivery. No financial gain involved in writing this story, so please don't sue.
Summary: Definitely B/A - but if you've read any of my other stuff you could have guessed that ;o) I've been rewatching my Season 1 DVDs and this is what happened in my head after some of the episodes. Hope you enjoy.
A/N: As promised – here's Bobby's side of what's going on.
Bobby's POV
I lock the door behind us as we enter my apartment. I hear her put her purse down on the table and the soft rustle of fabric as she starts to remove her jacket. Until that night two months ago this was something comfortable and familiar. Now the air around me seems too thick, the sense of anticipation is heavy and I wonder if we'll actually get as far as talking. I hope we do because I can't help feeling there's a lot we need to talk about, not least of which is 'that' night. The night that I can't forget about no matter how many times I tell myself I have to.
It was a little scary to me at first how easily I'd gotten used to her being here during our partnership. I've never had a partner who I would allow into my home before. I always kept my private and professional lives carefully separated. Not that I've never had any friends at all on the force, I simply never brought them here. A few drinks after shift, a meal every once in a while were fine, but this place, this has been my sanctuary if you like, the place I can come back to to escape the madness of the job we do.
With her it was different. About five weeks into our partnership she suggested that rather than working late at the office we grab the files, head to my place, order takeout and at least get to finish the work somewhere more comfortable. When I'd stutteringly asked 'Why my place?', she'd pointed out, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, that Brooklyn is closer to Manhattan that Rockaway is. I couldn't argue with her logic or her geography, I'm not even sure I wanted to really. So we'd ended up at my apartment, eating Chinese food and going over witness statements while we listened to music. After that first night it became quite a regular occurrence. If we'd been out working someplace nearer to her house, and it was late in the day, we'd head there instead, ring into the office to check for messages and then go over the information we'd gathered during the day's investigation.
I've missed that these last two months. Hell, I've missed her. Only seeing her 'professionally' has been difficult, at times almost impssible. No late night drinks before crashing on her couch or saying goodnight as she heads to the spare room in my apartment that had become unofficially hers. No good-natured arguments over whose turn it is to choose the food, we don't do that when we order takeout to be delivered to the squad room, it doesn't feel right somehow. We've still spoken on the phone late at night when one of us has suddenly come up with an idea on the cases we've been working but it's not the same as actually seeing her, actually being with her.
I turn around and shuck off my jacket, reaching for the hook beside the one that has been empty for two months, waiting for her to return and make use of it. The backs of our hands brush against each other and I feel a jolt of excitement go through me as the almost non-existent contact causes her to gasp. I can't stand not to touch her for even a second longer, so I let go of my jacket and wrap my fingers around hers.
"You okay?" I hope she can't hear how worried I am about how tonight is going to end in my voice, but somehow I doubt that she's missed it. Eames rarely misses anything.
I'm facing her as I ask my question and suddenly she turns towards me, takes the single step that separates us and presses herself against me and I finally get to do what I've been longing to throughout this case. I wrap my arms around her and softly stroke her back as I feel her nod her head. I feel the shiver that runs through her as her hands come to rest on my waist. My own body trembles in response to even this slight, totally safe, contact. She must be aware of the effect she has on me. I can't stop myself as I bow my head to bring my lips down against the top of her head, but I manage to restrict myself to brushing them lightly against her hair.
I know I need to let her go, break this physical contact. I wish it was as easy as it sounds.
"How about you go get comfortable in the lounge and I'll get us something to drink?" I manage to keep my voice almost level this time.
She nods again but doesn't make any move away from me and I can't seem to release her from the circle of my arms. I need to see her face, so I bring one hand up to her chin, using just the tips of my fingers to raise it so that I can look at her properly.
Her soul is laid bare in her eyes and I let my barriers fall, a riot of emotions are unleashed as I look into her beautiful eyes.
I can see there now the pain that she's been fighting so hard to hide from everyone these past few weeks. It's deep and old. I feel a little relief as I realise that the pain isn't new and it hits me that, somewhere in the back of my mind, I've been fearing that her decision had been a recent one, one that might even have involved me and my actions two months ago. I'm not sure how I would have handled that, or even whether I would have been able to.
Her pain though is not the only thing I can read so clearly. There's so much love there, along with her desire and need for me. It takes a moment for me to process the realisation that this woman, so strong and independent, actually needs me. That alone shakes me to my core, I've never seen anyone look at me like she is doing at this moment, as if I am actually a necessity in their life. I'm used to women looking at me with desire, lust even. There have been girlfriends in the past who spoke words of love and need, yet they never stayed long once they realised I was not about to change who I was in order to keep them, but there was never anything close to the expression in her eyes as they shine up at me.
There's acceptance, of me just as I am, no changes needed. She knows many of my quirks by now, the physical and mental 'ticks' that so many find irritating and weird have become to her simply a part of who I am. I can sense that she feels no wish to rewrite my personality or my behaviour, to 'normalise' me, as so many past lovers have seemed to want to do. There's another layer to the acceptance though. Her acceptance of the situation we find ourselves in. She's willing to give me, give us, a chance and as that realisation dawns I find myself drawn down to kiss her, overwhelmed by the strength it must have taken her, has it has me, to suppress so much raw emotion all this time.
I stop myself short, pressing my lips to her forehead instead of completing the distance to her mouth. I know if I taste her lips at this moment there's no hope for me. If I give in to that small temptation I won't be able to keep control of my own, very physical, need for her. Instead I settle for the feel of her soft skin against my lips as I taste my way across her brows, the edge of her cheek, finally reaching her ear.
Again I have to force myself to stop. I know her eyes are closed, I can sense her anticipation but I also sense her trepidation. She knows as well as I do that, as much as this is going to hurt, we need to address the pain that has been raked to the surface of her soul by our investigation. Easy as it would be to rebury the pain beneath desire and lust and want, I know I cannot allow either one of us to do that because I know she needs to work through this, whatever it is. I restraint myself once more and I'm thoroughly surprised at how calm my voice sounds as I speak softly into the ear that is so close my lips almost brush against it as I speak.
"Alex, I don't want to rush this and we do need to talk this time. I'm going to the kitchen to get us some coffee and you are going to go and sit down. Okay?"
I feel the slight twitch of her head as I kiss her cheek and I know she's suppressed the same temptation I have. It would be so easy, too easy, we never seem to take the easy route.
"Okay." I feel her smile as she kisses my cheek in return.
She steps back but I can't take my eyes off her face. My defences are still down and I hope she can read in my eyes the love and acceptance I have read in hers returned there. I'm not even conscious of the movement of my hand until I feel the almost frantic beat of her pulse beneath my fingertips. I can't help but smile at the knowledge that she is just as deeply effected by this as I am.
I force my fingers away from her skin, fighting every impulse within me as I do so. Her tiny hands fall from my waist and I wonder how such small hands can spread so much fire throughout my body by the simple action of resting against the fabric of my shirt. I'm grateful to her when she steps back because I know I couldn't bring myself to put any distance between us.
Suddenly we're both in motion again, slipping off our shoes and turning to head in different directions. I make the coffee on autopilot, trying to regain control of my body whilst I do so. I know trying to control my emotions at this moment it next to useless and my mind is spinning almost completely out of my control. I'm barely aware of what I'm doing until I find myself back in her presence, placing the coffees on the table in front of where she's sitting on my couch.
"Is it okay if I sit here or would you rather I take the chair?" I want to sit down beside her but I need to allow her some control of this situation.
"Here." Relief floods my body as she pats the seat beside her and I sit down, turned slightly towards her, wanting to be able to see her face, read her eyes, in the moments ahead.
"Alex, this case, I know it got to you. It's not like you to personalise a case. I don't mean that you didn't do your …" Much to my continuing relief I don't get to finish what I'm trying to say.
"I know you don't mean to say I didn't do my job or pull my weight. What you want to know is why it got to me so badly." Either I've become more obvious than I used to be or this woman really can read my mind.
I nod and reach for her, taking one tiny hand between my two seemingly gigantic ones. The pain in her voice is raw and as she finishes speaking I hear a hint of surprise, as though she weren't expecting to feel this so deeply now as she may have done in the past.
"Only if you feel you can tell me, Alex. I can make a guess, I think I know you well enough that I've got a good idea of the basics …" Once again, she cuts me off.
"I figured you might have guessed that at some point I'd been pregnant." I hate the pain that causes the catch in her voice and the fact that she's closed her eyes, as if trying to force back tears.
I gently squeeze her hand. "Did you …?"
She shakes her head and opens her eyes, the hand I'm not holding presses lightly against my mouth, an entreaty against further interruptions. I sit in silence as she recounts her story, taking in details and forcing myself to remain still. The anger I feel at the man responsible for her long ago mistreatment is so strong that it takes all my willpower to remain seated, rather than pacing the room or, better yet, giving in to the impulse to hit something. I can't move as tears begin to seep from her eyes, if I do I'm uncertain of what I will actually do and I don't want her to mistake the anger of my response as being directed at her. I can't even drag my eyes away from her face.
It isn't until she raises her hand from on top of my own that I feel free to move. Cupping her face as I brush at the tears on one cheek, as she brushes them from the other. I remain silent, not daring to interrupt her, knowing she would hear my anguish for her younger self in my voice if I speak now. The last barriers holding back her grief and pain shatter, as she tells me of losing her child, and I have to hold her, it's no longer optional. If I don't hold her, try to comfort her, as she tears open this long scarred-over wound, I know I will explode.
Her eyes are tightly closed, sobs are wracking her body, her voice is breaking and tears are pouring down her face, too quickly for me to brush away now. I slide closer as I wrap my arms around her and pull her body against mine. She snuggles her face into the front of my shirt, soaking it with her tears and I don't care, just so long as she'll let me offer her some measure of comfort, what little it must be to her. I'm rocking her gently, hoping she can still feel my love for her through the thick curtain of her pain and grief.
It is all I can do not to howl with outrage as the implication of what she's saying washes over me. His actions were bad enough but the thought of that being her first time is almost unbearable. I feel her hesitance as her arms finally slip around me, her fingers grasping at the fabric of my shirt. My own arms tighten around her, every inch of me wanting to keep her safe, find some way of expunging this pain from her soul. I hope my love for her can someday help to heal the grief she has carried in her heart for so long, apparently in silence.
I gently kiss her forehead again and find myself unable to break the contact as my lips trail down her face, kissing away tears that she has held back for so many years. She hasn't said exactly when this happened but it must be at least twelve years ago. How has she managed to bear this burden, hiding it from her family, smiling happily at the news of each impending niece and nephew? I knew my Alex was strong but this sort of strength is beyond my comprehension. I continue kissing her face even after the tears stop falling and her breathing levels back towards normal. I don't speak, I don't have the words at this moment, I'm not even sure there are words that could possibly begin to express the depth of my love and respect for her, knowing what she's been through. I'm certain there are no words that could express the depth of my contempt and loathing for the man who put her through this.
A/N: Thanks for reading this – sorry if anyone found it too angsty - I promise the next chapters will be less so.