First Kiss 53
Bobby didn't look the least bit like a detective, or any kind of cop. It was his first Saturday off in three weeks, and he was dressed in sweats and looking for a pickup game to join. He was a half a block away when the explosion happened. He hit the dirt, a reflex from his army days. Then he looked up and around, trying to make sense of what happened. An apartment building was damaged up ahead, a cloud of dust trailing from its sides like blood from a wound.
He got to his feet and ran, reaching for the cell phone in his pocket. He called dispatch, gave the address, and admitted he really didn't know what had happened yet. People were hurriedly exiting the building as he ran inside.
Bobby ran up 2…3…4 flights of stairs before he saw the damage. With human cries beckoning him forward, he gingerly stepped over the last few mangled stairs and onto the damaged floor. Bobby's senses were on full alert. The explosion had damaged the infrastructure of the building. "Police," he called loudly. "I'm here to help!"
A woman's cry came from the last doorway on the floor. Bobby carefully stepped over and around debris and made it to her door. She was holding her arm, bleeding, and crying. "My baby!" she cried, pointing to a doorway which was blocked by debris from above. Bobby immediately went to the collapsed heap that used to be a room, searching. He tried not to touch the fallen boards and tiles, but couldn't quite get around them otherwise. He saw the child, a toddler, lying unconscious in the corner.
As carefully as he could, Bobby moved towards the child. He heard the sirens outside and was relieved that help had arrived. At last, he reached him. Bobby checked his vitals. "He's alive!" he called to the mother. Glancing around, Bobby tried to work out what to do next. Without knowing the child's injuries, he could hurt him worse by moving him. Bobby found a chunk of wall board nearby. He manhandled it into a position beside the child and gently slid his body onto it. Then he began dragging the board back out of the room.
At some point, dragging became impossible. He moved to the other side and tried to pick him up, board and all. A board hung tenuously near his head. He carefully moved around it, trying again to pick up the child from a different position. Bobby's foot slipped and, not wanting to fall on the child, he forced his weight backwards.
The abrupt weight of his body hitting the floor started a chain reaction. Almost immediately, he was buried in rubble. A view to the floor above revealed red flames. Bobby tried to turn, to see if the little boy was all right, but a horrible pain in his hip stopped him. He settled back, listening intently for the sounds of help coming.
Bobby tried to reach his phone. His fingers coaxed it out of his pocket. He couldn't raise his arms to bring it to his face, but he flipped it open and felt the buttons with his fingers, dialing 9-1-1.
He heard the voice answer the call, but couldn't make out what was said. "Help," he groaned. Bobby's mind tried to imagine all the action taking place in and around the building. Aches and pains threatened to overcome him. He heard the hiss of a fire hose, and saw the thick smoke as the upstairs fire was contained. He coughed, and wondered about the quality of the air he was breathing.
He heard shouting from the room near him, and his breathing quickened. "Help!" Bobby tried to shout, but his voice was raspy. "In here!"
It seemed like an eternity, but eventually, he looked into the masked face of a firefighter.
"What's your name?" the man asked.
"Bobby," he breathed. "NYPD."
"You just hold tight, Bobby of the NYPD. We're gonna get you out of here."
The voice sounded familiar. "Dislocated? Not broken?"
Alex! Bobby tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn't cooperate. "Eames." His voice wasn't much better.
He felt her hand on his forehead. "Bobby?" she asked.
He smiled, or at least he thought he did.
"You're in the hospital now, Bobby," she said. "You're going to be just fine."
"Alex…Alex, the boy…" he struggled to get all the words out.
"He's all right, Bobby. He's with his Mom as we speak." The woman had made it very clear what Bobby had done to save her child. The firefighters had spread the word.
Alex stood back as the doctor stepped in to do a quick examination. Finally, Bobby managed to get one eye open, the doctor held each one wide and shone a light into them. The doctor poked and prodded around his abdomen, but found no reason for concern. "Mr. Goren," he said. "I'm not sure what you remember…"
"All of it," Bobby choked out.
"Okay," said his doctor. "When you got trapped in the rubble, you got a few injuries. The worst appears to be a dislocated hip. I want you to rest for now… we'll take care of that soon enough." With that, the doctor left the room.
Alex hovered over him, her hair falling towards him. She tried to tuck it back behind her ears. She looked a little worried.
"Get some rest, Bobby. It's all right, now."
He lay on his side, a large ice pack on his newly realigned hip. Its deep ache was hard to ignore. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the coolness of the ice.
He didn't hear her come in. "Rough day, huh?" she said softly.
Bobby's eyes opened and rested on hers. "Hi," he said weakly.
Her hands wrapped around his. "The guys send their well-wishes." Leaning forward, she confided, "I don't know. I think Captain Ross was a little pissed about the whole thing. You know how he hates to give people time off."
Bobby gave her a wan smile.
"It turns out, it was a gas leak. Oven exploded, and set off the gas in the air. One floor up from where they found you."
"Wasn't much fire," he said.
"Just a matter of perspective. Most of the upper floor was in flames." Alex smiled, thinking again it was some kind of miracle. "Just not near where they found you."
She relaxed her grip on his hands and settled into a chair beside him, keeping her thumb and forefinger around his fingers. As he rested his eyes, Alex studied his face, one she'd seen every day for years, and yet rarely seemed to observe so closely.
He had several scrapes and bruises, not just on his face, but all over. His beard was dark against his pale skin, made even paler by the torture of the work they did on his hip. His eyes had dark rings underneath.
Alex thought again about his efforts to save the young boy, and she was proud of him. He was a hero, though he'd never think of himself as such. She surprised him when she pressed her lips to his cheek.
His eyes popped open, and she was disturbed by the intensity of his stare. His fingers tightened around hers. She moved her face closer and he tilted his head up, giving her access to his lips.
It was a long and tender kiss, not exactly like she'd imagined, but better. Pulling back, Alex smiled at him. "Love you, Bobby."
He responded with a sweet, sweet smile.
