When she got home there was nothing but time, wine and silence. It was a cocktail of misery for a tortured mind. She'd been telling the truth when he'd cornered her in the janitors closet, she genuinely wished to return to the balance and clarity she'd had before they'd been intimate. The act itself had been pure bliss but the aftermath much less so. Perhaps most gutting was that all the pain had it had come with some unsavoury personal truths. Alex had cultivated a lot of notions about who she was. Now she was faced with the fact she was as unreasonable, emotional and undiciplined as anyone on a busy city street. She was as silly as all women in love. She wanted to offer her heart on a platter and her body on a battered metal NYPD desktop. She'd taken a hard line with him, but who was she kidding she'd just been lashing out because of his confession.
Nicole. That Bitch.
Alex had hated her back then and she hated her even more now. The serial killer had gone off like an A-bomb in their lives. Instinctively Alex had know she was and unholy blend of all of Bobby's biggest weaknesses. Nicole had been beautiful. She had been alluring. She'd been completely unstable. Arguably she'd been a genius. And the icing was her sick fascination. To be in a room with them, Alex gripped the kitchen countertop at the thought, the energy had been palpable.
Her hurt was ridiculous this late in the game. It was done. Nicole was a footnote. Punishing Bobby for his disposition smacked unfair even to her. She knew him. She knew why he acted the way he did. She knew about his childhood. His mother and his brother and their parasitical behaviour. She knew about his biological father and how that news had affected him. So maybe he had a dark side. So maybe he had urges, unacceptable ones. Maybe he'd been drawn to something dark and kindred in Nicole, even unknowingly.
No, not maybe, definitely.
And maybe Alex had no business judging those urges, especially retrospectively. She'd only been at home for an hour and the 'maybes' were circling and cawing overhead and trying to peck her eyes out. She still couldn't help recreating the timeline of their cases with this new information about Bobby and Wallace. Imagining the spectre of Nicole shadowing their every move, even now. She picked up the phone and called her sister just to get a break from herself. Liz's voice kept cutting in and out.
"I can't hear you. What are you doing?" Alex asked.
"Putting on my bra."
"What?!" she laughed "Why did you answer if you were busy."
"I'm not really busy. I'm going out, with Lauren." There was more shuffling, some fuzzy scrapping."You should come! We're headed your way." she enticed.
"I don't want to intrude."
"Intrude! Come on, we're friends not lovers. Honestly Al the more the merrier." It didn't take much to get her to agree, it beat pining for her partner in a borderline alcoholic fashion.
She'd been told to 'dress sexy.' She could barely contain her own sardonic laughter at that. She pulled on a standard non-work outfit. Pretty damn sensible. Dark blue jeans and a purple blouse. She stared hard at her reflection trying to remember, exactly what made this any different from what she wore 9 to 5, Monday to Friday. No gun, no badge, that's it. She looked herself up and down in the full length mirror. A plain, crusty, cop. Deep set eyes, fine (and not so fine) lines from all that glowering at suspects. She pulled back the skin around her mouth then let it drop, doing that made her look like the joker. She tugged the elastic out of her hair and gratefully it softened her a bit.
"Sexy" she muttered out loud. "Sexy." She said again paging through hanger upon hanger of v-neck sweaters, hoodies and cotton blouses. She pushed back the dry cleaning bags and bridesmaids gowns. There at her feet at the farthest reaches of the small room was a cardboard box labeled 1998. She looked hard at it because she knew it had what she needed. 1998 a significant year. 1998 when she'd packed away her innocence and her sparkle. 1998 the year Joe had died.
Well, she reasoned, it wasn't like she could go shopping right now and pick up something new. And she was rocking this toned 1990's body. She reached into the box and pulled out the past. It felt a lot like that day standing in Evidence alone with her dead husband's blood soaked shirt pressed to her face. The tears had come back then, today they didn't. She submerged her hands in the bright, shiny fabrics of her past. She pulled out a black heavily sequined halter top. She'd bought it for New Years Eve along with - she dug some more - and held up a pair of black leather pants. They smelled like a mix of hide and vanilla potpourri.
On the top shelf with a little step stool and some intense reaching she found a large graphite box, covered in a thin layer of dust, with silver text across the front. Jimmy Choo. Inside under layers of tissue paper were a pair of slouchy black boots. They were a more recent purchase and her sister had been an accomplice in the 'crime' of their purchase. Oh the sales job she'd done that day. Alex had sat there with a boot on her foot being tag teamed by Liz and the haughty sales lady at Saks.
Looking at the boots now she could still hear Liz's voice "Ally they'll add 4 or 5 inches to your frame" and "tauten those calves" and "give your hips that nice little sway". And like a susceptible social climber she'd blown a whole paycheck on them. Alex wasn't an ostentatious woman. In 9 months she'd never worn them. Just knowing she owned them was pleasurable enough. Besides no outing had ever seemed quite right for such expensive footwear. Well those days were over. On they went over the second skin leather pants and sparkly black halter and she capped it all with a white peplum blazer she'd bought for the christening of her cousin's baby girl.
Back in front of the mirror she decided more make up was in order. She picked up a bottle clearly recalling an ad with a supermodel who claimed it gave your face a flawless glow. In Alex's jaded opinion it tried to help. That's all, it just tried.
The doorbell pulled her out of her critical assessment. Alex knew she leaned on Liz. They did this pretty often, caught a coffee or went out for drinks or more recently went out to yoga. Someone looking at her with a cutting eye might say her sister was her best and only friend. Alex was past feeling lame. Lame ended at 40 didn't it? So what if she spent off hours mostly socializing with family. That was the life of a major case detective.
"Oh la la." were Liz's first words and she was positively sparkling. "Spin lady, spin."
Alex rolled her eyes and planted her feet. Elizabeth was fun. Sometimes too fun for her own good.
"You look amazing. I could bounce a quarter off that ass." her grin was enormous. "Say thank you to your baby sis for introducing you to the sculpting effects of bikram."
"Oh get in here." she grabbed her sister's arm. "Hi Lauren, sorry you had to witness that."
"I agree with your totally inappropriate sister. You look awesome Alex." She smiled giving that one armed hug so common among reunited friends.
"We were just going to go to Falstaff's." Alex recognized the name of a local restaurant they'd been to before. "But in honour of my sister becoming a woman." that earned her a slap on the arm. "Ladies I propose something with men and alcohol. I'll take one for the team and sit it out" Said the married younger woman "don't cry for me."
Lauren nodded in complete giddy agreement. She was a tall brunette whom Alex happened to really like. Both of the younger women were so naturally spontaneous and irreverent that they'd pulled her out of a funk on more then one occasion. Liz and Lauren were contemporaries. They'd been inseparable since frosh week at Liz's alma mater Trinity College.
Lauren had become part of the family (another Eames stray, Bobby was in good company) attending countless turkey dinners at the Eames table, embarrassingly boisterous occasions. She'd even dated their brother Will for a year or two there, but to no ends. Lauren's father was a diplomat stationed abroad so her mother had split her time between here and there. All Alex needed to know was that Lauren was great to Liz. Alex loved her sister. Alex had long realized she would do just about anything for this younger sweeter version of herself. A softness rose up in her, maybe it was their age difference, with the boys between them there had never been competition or real conflict, just care.
That night they were a pretty motley crew with Liz a self proclaimed real Connecticut housewife, Lauren a sales rep and Alex a cop, still, the group of women exchanged banter and boisterous laughter in the tight back seat of a cab and then spilled out onto the artificially bright brisk New York street.
"And I love this coat." Liz gushed she pet the furry neck of the belted dress coat.
"You do look beautiful Alex." Lauren seconded again and Alex felt positively hot from their focus and admiration. She wondered at it. And like a devoted realist questioned their authenticity and (even worse) worried about what she usually looked like.
"What is going on with you?" her sister demanded giving her a sly look.
"Mid life crisis." she deadpanned and they all laughed. Alex had to admit she felt good. A bit cold, but really good to be strolling up the sidewalk destined for a night out.
The club was Lauren's choice a bit of a trek into Manhattan but just the right feel, mature but not too mature. Full but not standing room only. On their first cosmo (when in Rome... no beer or bourbon tonight) Alex felt her phone vibrate in her jacket pocket. Not 1PP, not 1PP, not 1PP she chanted fingers crossed, and felt her stomach bottom out. Just as bad, it was Bobby. She hit the ignore button and took another deep gulp. She knew she was playing a dangerous game. The case could have broken or they could have been reassigned or any number of very important work related issues. But she was banking that what he wanted was personal. She vowed she'd pick up only when Hannah's number showed on her display, not a moment sooner. On her second cosmo again the fine ZZZZ ZZZZ of her cell against her side. Bobby. It was surprisingly easy to push back her curiosity and her ridiculous dedication to career and hit ignore.
"Who are you ignoring?" Lauren yelled and the hot sweet liquored breath of the woman played over her ear and cheek.
"My partner. I just want a night off ya know?" That earned her a high five, working man's solidarity.
"That one is looking at you." Liz leaned in on her other side "Take off your jacket give him a little shoulder."
Alex didn't say a word, or roll her eyes or make a face, she put her cell on the table and peeled off the blazer flipping her hair and licked her suddenly dry lips.
"Are you ovulating or something?" Liz asked and that got her the second backhand of the evening. "What have you done with my sister vixen?"
"Liberated her!" Alex yelled, because of the beat of the music and because it felt damn good.
"He's coming over."
Alex felt her head swim. This being feminine, she could get used to it again. She wasn't skilled, not like Lauren. Alex watched the brunette beat them off with a stick, parlaying one drink into another, playfully manipulating affection and loving every second of it. No, she was still Alex, she was still cautious and considered and slow to warm. But after 3 more drinks she felt the dutch courage kicking in. And that was when she met Steve, and danced with Steve, and let Steve pull her close to him, maybe a bit too close, but so what? She was single and he wasn't coming home with her. She felt his hand slide low and she took it firmly and put it on her back but she didn't stop dancing with him.
She went back to the table and he followed like a puppy.
"Bobby has called 2 more times." Liz looked serious ignoring Steve. "Call him." she worried her lower lip.
That was how Alex found herself in the hall outside the ladies room dialing as the dull thump thump thump of music shook the soles of her boots.
"What!?" She yelled indelicately when he picked up and he gave it to her for not answering. A full dressing down. She didn't have much to say, she sort of deserved it.
"I'm off duty."
"You're major case."
"Ugh" the alcohol was making her lips loose " What do you want?" she said each word like it was it's own sentence.
"Where are you?"
"Out."
"I hear music."
"It's a party."
"Where?"
"So you can be a buzzkill?"
"So I can…"
"I'm with my sister and a friend don't worry."
"Where?"
"Let up!" she pled, "I'm having fun." For once.
"We need to talk."
"About the case?"
"Uh.. Yeah."
"There's something new?"
"Yeah." he was lying, like a lying dirty scoundrel but he needed to see her and this was the only way.
"I'll come to you then." she sighed.
"No. You've been drinking just tell me where you are."
She didn't really want to cross her worlds. She was enjoying carefree, younger, sexier, normal Alex it was in high contrast to all the hiding and secrets and dead bodies and psycho killers. "Okay, okay." And she gave up the address with about as much reluctance as an eyewitness in a mob case. When she ended the call she knew that the party was over. She could never run far or fast enough to escape Alex Eames and her damned calling.
The guy, her dance partner was at bar with his friends staring at her, it was very validating. She slapped her phone down on the table, took a long guzzle of whatever was in Liz's glass (missing her sisters surprised look) wiped her chin with the back of her hand and headed to dance floor before her coach turned into a pumpkin in 20 minutes. By her calculation that was the amount of time from her partner's house to their table.
She miscalculated.
He must not have been home.
He was there. She felt him before she saw him. And then he inserted himself, planted himself in her field of view like some monolith surrounded by writhing pagan bodies. He didn't look happy. But what else was new. She felt truly chastised when he extended a hand, she took it and he lead her off the dance floor. Rather then sort it out verbally in the noise and confusion he gestured to the door. But she need to settle up, say goodbye, get her jacket and they had a subtle tug of war. Bobby didn't excel at practicalities.
Her bewildered sister furrowed her brow.
"The case." she said stumbling a little as she leaned in to talk. She might be a bit drunk. "I have to go."
"I thought you were off. You're wrecked."
"Don't worry bout me baby sister." Alex yelled near her ear kissing it. "Love you."
"Bobby." Liz waved him in worried. "She's loaded she can't work."
"It's okay. I'll cover." he told her forgetting to release Alex's hand. "I'll take care of her."
Elizabeth trusted Bobby with her sisters life and that wasn't hyperbole, but as she watched him, hold her hand, then feed her arms into both of her jackets, and then bump into Steve (poor outclassed Steve) just a little, her gaze intensified. And as she watched him lead Alex away by the hand, she knew that everything was different.
