Tuesday 27th July
Major Case Squad Room
When Eames hurried through the door that morning something seemed different. Different yet the same and most of all, as they should be. Goren at his desk, frowning at his computer screen. He was pretty much IT literate but occasionally he either forgot the simplest things or had never worked out how to do the ones he would mutter were "non-essential". Or claimed, "it just happened" when something went wrong.
And why he didn't know how to do or fix them, was that Eames did it for him. Like most men and with a lot of things, it was usually quicker and easier to do them yourself. That way they were done right and it put a stop to that "helpless and pathetic" expression, which even Goren wasn't above putting on now and then.
It was one reason why there were women all over 1PP in useful locations who would stop what they were doing or go to trouble just because it was Bobby Goren. Eames was never sure he didn't cultivate them on purpose. To get bigger portions in the cafeteria, someone to sort out various forms when he submitted them late or wrong and the attention of a pretty young girl from the support section. Who came immediately to Bobby's assistance when he messed up the photocopier or seemed to have killed another printer.
Eames had a little smile to herself and decided to let him go on suffering a little longer while she went via the coffee machine and she doubted even Goren had forgotten the four digit number was part of his password. Or if he had, he only had to look at his belt where his badge was usually fixed to get a reminder.
And he did look very different to the way he had when he dropped by yesterday afternoon to give Ross the medical document cleared him to return to work and fill in a couple of forms. He was halfway to the Captain's office before someone realised the tall figure in old combat pants and a t-shirt with a slightly vulgar message was Goren. And it wasn't just the clothes. His hair was longer than Eames had ever seen it, he was sporting a light tan on his arms and what of the face was visible under maybe a weeks worth of facial hair. But most important, he looked fit and well and there was no sign of him favouring his right leg.
Eames doubted he was in with Ross as long as he was discussing his very different sartorial appearance and the expression on their Captain's face when they came out was mostly one of bemusement. As Ross stood a few minutes watching people cluster round one of his greatest puzzles to really understand or solve. Eames eventually rescued Goren from the embarrassment of the positive attention.
"Morning" she said finally getting to her desk. "Bet the haircut, shaving and putting a suit on came as a shock to your system. Never mind getting up the crack of dawn again"
"Morning. Not really. I've mostly been out of…" he trailed off poking at the keys.
Leaving Eames to conclude he'd not been waking many mornings on his own and getting up before Caro left for Colombia.
"Eames?" the tone was that one of slight helplessness as she began to check her e-mail.
"Yes?" she enquired with deliberate nonchalance.
"Can you please remind me again how to change the screensaver? Faith has switched this to that multi-colour, wiggly and exploding thing. And you know it drives me nuts"
"I'll do it for you in a moment Goren"
"Thank you Eames"
Five minutes later he'd moved near enough everything in, on or around the desk, including the telephone, to accommodate his left-handedness. And the screen was gently changing between pictures of very expensive super cars, impossible on a cops salary and works of art. Whose only common feature was that the figures in them seemed to have either two heads, be naked or enduring some ghastly fate. Yet her partner still wondered why some people thought him a little strange.
The Green Parrot Cocktail Lounge, East 128th St
It was a fancy name for a basement bar notorious for the things that went on there, what you could buy there and the clientele. You wouldn't be surprised to find Rasputin, Bluebeard the Pirate, Hannibal Lector and Hitler sitting in a corner sipping gin and playing a hand of it together.
Eames and Dempsey had briefed Goren on this case they were working on the way up town in the SUV and Faith hadn't seemed to mind being consigned to the rear. They had a tip they might find Pauli Patterson here. A regular customer of the New York justice and penal system but also a useful snitch. Particularly when there were outstanding warrants on him and especially about the current state of the market for illegal handguns.
Goren wasn't about to step on their professional toes so he asked, "What do you want me to do?"
"Block the rear exit" said Dempsey as they got out along the street.
Initially with badges and guns hidden. Otherwise the Green Parrot would empty of all its customers quicker than Riker's on a Friday night if someone forgot to bolt the door on their way out.
"And look ugly and menacing" added Eames. "You can do that very easily and you know how that lubricates Pauli's vocal chords.
As they went down the steps Goren was still picking the insult out of that one. Though ten minutes later in the back alley a block away, it was the threat of leaving him alone with Dempsey and Eames that was giving Pauli the greatest incentive to re-activate his memory.
Broadway/West 34th Street
Pauli hadn't given them all the answers they hoped for but he had pointed them in the right direction. If you could call two more visits to less glamorous locations in New York a direction you wanted to go in. Three stomachs were past rumbling time by then, so Eames swung by that way to stop at one of her favourite concession stands. And persuade Goren he owed she and Faith lunch.
They were sat munching their way through "large dogs" with near enough everything as he crossed back over the street. Minus the red patterned tie he'd left on the front seat.
He got back in and turned down the visor mirror to get it back on neat.
"I didn't see Poochy" said Eames licking tomato ketchup off the end of the bun before it dripped.
"You won't" he replied. "Poochy died I'm afraid"
"Aaw. That's sad. Poor Marge"
"He was fourteen apparently. Which in dog years is close to a hundred"
"Had a good innings then" shrugged Eames.
"Yeah but Marge is quite lost without him" Goren said clipping the tie straight.
"Is this the dog that almost bit your…"
"Yes" he barked himself at Faith. "Though his relationship with Logan's leg was far more serious and committed and possibly rewarding for Poochy"
"Longest one Mike had in a long time I heard" muttered the younger woman from the back.
Major Case Squad Room
Eames glanced over at her partner who had pretty much got up to speed through the day on several cases, was beginning to contribute ideas without making it sound like she and Faith had been lost but was starting to look tired. She'd kept down a lot of the paperwork came everyone's way and tried to prioritise for him what he had to read, would probably want to read and trashed a lot she knew Goren never would.
The shift was more or less over as she said "Why don't you head off Goren? Or take that with you to read with a beer and a baseball game later.
"I'll give it half an hour" he said chin in hand and turning a page. "Expecting a call"
Ten minutes later his phone rang and when he said "Hi Sophie" you knew that was the Chief of D's secretary on the line. It seemed he was to go up to see him there and then.
There was no secret that the current Chief wasn't Goren's greatest fan, unlike his predecessor who waited for six months for him to complete an operation in Narco to get him across to Major Case and fill a slot. But that didn't mean the guy would forget the social niceties and would give him the same, brief "Welcome back" ten minutes he did most officers returning from sick or maternity leave or who had been assigned elsewhere for a while
By the time Eames left to meet Dave for dinner, Goren had not returned and she had a sense that was where Danny Ross was also heading when he'd gone in the direction of the elevators.
To be continued…