They slept together again that night just as they had the night before, holding on to one another. Platonic. But was it really that? Because Alex had never felt such a connection with anyone. It pained her to think that. She'd been married. And she had held on to Joe for so long. But this was the first time she'd truly betrayed him. Not him exactly, just the contract she unconsciously made with his ghost. Not literally of course, Alex was a skeptic she didn't 'do' ghosts. But still, she imagined she could actually feel him leaving her as she lay there with her new lover. She imagined she'd been holding him earthbound for all these years. It was a little creepy and a little comforting.
Through the drawn drapes the streetlights below gave the room a bluish glow. Occasionally the odd beam from passing car headlights danced over them casting funny shadows. Bobby schooched down in her modest (for him) queen sized bed even though doing so made his feet hang over the edge, because he wanted to align with her. They never got to be face to face when they stood, but they were now, her floral printed pillow balled under his head, his eyes looking deep into hers. Alex mirrored him in placement and position, together their bodies in the shape of omega.
"I don't want to go to sleep."
"You aren't still afraid?" he ran a thumb over her cheek.
"No." she shook her head a little.
"Then..."
"This is too good." she admitted.
"I know." he whispered.
"And you go back tomorrow."
"Don't remind me." he rumbled and reached low for her hand, pressing it against his mouth.
She didn't want to think about any of it, work or cases or Garrett Sikes. She wanted to be here now.
"I don't want to leave you." he said. He might have meant because she was a walking bruise, or maybe because he couldn't live without her. She let him have his ambiguity because it was still the most intimate statement he'd ever made either way, especially with his face so close and his minty breath wafting over her. He'd used her toothbrush. He'd called out to her from inside her bathroom just before bed. He hadn't so much asked her as told her he needed to brush. Then he followed that up with some statistical gobbledygook about toothbrush sharing, the incidence of disease transmission and the importance of disinfection with boiling water. And she'd called back to him that he didn't need to risk disease, she was just fine if he wanted to keep his mouthful of plaque, and based on the amount of time he'd spent spouting off, she was sure it was case of full blown tartar now. There hadn't been any further 'information' issued from inside the bathroom.
"Maybe we should go see a movie." she said suddenly.
He checked an imaginary watch "Right now? I think we missed the last show."
"Not now silly." she laughed "Maybe in a day or two." she was thinking that they didn't have a plan. She was thinking that they might let work and emotion and politics get in the way again. She was thinking that they needed to figure out how to be together and quick.
"A date."He was thinking he'd known her for almost thirteen years. He was thinking he'd been inside her body. He was thinking she's having my child and we've never been on a date. A planned event, a set time, just the two of them with clear romantic intentions. A date. "That is a very good idea. Wednesday night. We'll see how you're feeling. I'll pick you up for dinner first, say 7?"
She wanted to kiss him her joy was so profound, then she realized she could, his lips were just a head tilt away. But before she put the thought into action he kissed her first, completely in sync. They both wanted more it was obvious from the steady escalation: just lips, then lips and tongue, then lips, tongue and hands, then lips, tongue, hands and a gentle moan. But it wasn't to be. He wouldn't let them and she pressed her lips into the pillow to stop from begging for more. He whispered that he didn't want to accidentally hurt her. And she reluctantly agreed remembering how physical they'd been together.
He got up from the bed abruptly. "Hey where are you going?" she felt instantly bereft.
"You can't turn over." he explained (with the injury she favoured one side) and he tucked in behind her making her his little spoon "And we have to get some sleep." He adjusted himself around her and almost immediately she felt him drifting off, parts of him pressing more heavily on her then they had before. It was a glorious weight. In a 180 degree turn from last night her concussed brain couldn't shut off. She felt a little melancholy at the thought of giving up their private world and she was savouring a bond she'd never felt before.
Even with Joe. A small voice mocked again.
Partly, she was sure, because time had eroded the memory of what they'd had. And partly because Joe had always held himself away from her on some level, not unlike Bobby honestly. It was the way of the cop. But she and Bobby had broken through, achieved a higher level of understanding because they worked together. Alex and Joe had been awash with secrets. The ones they had to keep while undercover, for survival, to allay danger. She and Joe had been normal in most respects but she'd always been so aware of the gaps, the holes in the relationship big enough to put her hand through. They'd gotten close of course, they had been in love, but sometimes, with some people, closeness wasn't an intellectual function it just meant proximity. It meant living, cooking and sleeping together. Which was fine.
Fine.
Fine.
She let the word rest on her tongue. Lots of marriages are based on that. She remembered Joe and their hot teenaged sex, she'd been 19 about to turn 20 when they met. All abandon, fast cars, young bodies and delusions. They'd been on again/off again, more times then she could count. After graduating from the academy they had finally felt grown up enough to make it official. Permanent. Permanent, yeah right. They had been so naive. She remembered all the nights alone, conflicting schedules, tiredness, making ends meet and a reoccurring theme about the right time to have a baby.
A baby.
A baby.
Then her mind was off down another rabbit hole. She emerged on the other side in a different place, with a different man.
With Bobby she felt so grown up, so fully formed. So mortgaged and 401k'd. And they were working with years of knowledge. Years of complimentary thinking. Years of shared experience. Years of comfortable silences. And of course this new explosive passion which made her feel about 19, and act about 19, but be forever grateful she wasn't.
She tried to brace for impact because the bright light of real life was bearing down on them like a freight train. She tried not to read too much into this island oasis for two they had created. She had to remind herself that the world that awaited them, their work world, was not lazy lunches and good intentions. Their world would punish them for this… fraternization. Their world would leave them broken and bloody on the floor. But it was hard to scare herself with 'what if's' when the right now was so wonderful.
Before dawn she woke and stiffly sat on the edge of the bed. A consuming pain in her ribs and stomach there was just no right way to lie. She didn't want to take the drugs (maternal instinct). Even though the doctor had said it was fine, she just didn't feel right popping pills. But they were the only way she could function. She breathed rapidly and quietly between barely parted lips deeply afraid of filling her lungs… it fucking hurt.
"You okay?"
"Sore." she bit out.
"I'll get your…"
"No No, you have to be up in a couple of hours. I've got it."
But he stayed awake with her anyway for the 45 minutes it took for the medicine to kick in, stroking her arm and telling her some ridiculously fantastic tale about the serial killer case he'd worked with Declan in South Korea. He still felt the need to apologize for using Declan's name around her, but hearing about tentacles of the octopi, the cool satisfying sweetness of the Bingsu, the ill-fitting local clothes, the marketplace full of exotic fare, the honour and love among family, all those things were worth Delcan's cameos. Bobby's words splashed across her mind all wild and bold. He painted a verbal canvass and the colours were so vivid, and the smells so ripe and the sound so loud. Her internal eye could actually see the quality of the sunlight on the other side of the world. She accused him of embellishing because the tale and it's imagery were so sharp all these decades later, but he wasn't, this was just his marvel of his mind. And gratefully it distracted her enough that before she knew it that sweet numbness had worked through every limb and she'd been able to drift off to sleep.
She woke that next morning and he was gone, of course. He left a note. He would call and feel better, it had said. She looked at it and didn't know how she could work with him again. Just have that and not have this. She had never felt so lonely. Never. Ever.
He did call. Everyday. And then often she called him again later on, so really make that twice a day. It always started the same way.
"Hi it's me."
"Hi you."
Then he'd ask about her health.
"How are you? Any dizziness? Nausea?"
"I threw up. I've had a headache for most of the day."
"Take your meds." sometimes he was a bit Captain Obvious.
"I know. That would be easiest but I'm trying to cut back"
"Why?"
"You know why Bobby." She urged. He wasn't being purposely obtuse. He just hadn't got his head around it, her pregnancy. Honestly neither had she. Her sense of responsibility still felt arbitrary and contrived, not real, not like it had with Nathan, when the hopes of so many had been pinned on her.
"I do? Oh... Yeah. I do."
"Yeah. Until I decide what I'm going to do I'm trying to avoid too many drugs. And I'm not sure the nausea is about the concussion anyway."
What she was going to do. That was the only thing he heard in that sentence. He knew Eames, she was a feminist and he knew exactly how militantly pro choice she could be but was she really considering that? On the baby question Bobby didn't know anything, not what was up or down, in or out, he was surprised he knew his own name. But of all the obstacles in their way, their ages, potential health issues, their lack personal commitment, he hadn't even really considered the abortion question.
She was anxious to change the subject. "How's the case?"
"I'm going in with Sikes today."
"Good I'm glad it's you." Then she thought of something. "Remember Jane." He didn't need her to tell him how to interrogate. But he might need to be reminded of the big picture. Sure Sikes had beat the shit out of her, but he'd done vile things to Jane Walston.
"Got it." he said "I think she might be the tip of the iceberg." Alex nodded then remembered he couldn't see that.
"I was thinking exactly the same thing. Can you send me the file? Keep me in the loop."
"Will do."
"I can't wait to get back."
"Don't rush it.
"Easy for you to say."
She was already going out of her mind with boredom, eager to get tagged in. But she was off mandatorily for 12 days. More if she needed it, but not less. She turned this way and that in the mirror looking at the bruising and swelling on her face. It had deflated some but it still looked pretty horrific. She pulled up her shirt. Again, the bruising was profound but she wasn't looking at that. She was trying to get her head around it. A baby. She and Bobby were kind talking around it which didn't seem all that healthy. But they had only slept together once. It was a lot of weight and repercussion for one time, even with all those years of partnership and friendship behind it.
Could she do this?
Could her body?
Would he want a say?
Did he deserve one?
Would he stand by her?
Was it foolish to even consider this at this stage in her life? She would be in her sixties with a 16 year old. Put like that it seemed ridiculous. And Bobby, well if he even considered sticking around he would be that much older. She remembered that psychopath John Tagman and his homemade lobotomies, he'd been an only child with elderly parents. Oh Christ. No firm correlation Alex. She wanted a life with Bobby so badly, she wished desperately that this had happened a decade ago. But then she imagined, a smart little girl with his dark curls or a strong empathetic little boy.
She closed her eyes against her conflicted mind. She felt another headache coming on.