Disclaimer: Can I pleeeease claim them? What? No? Hmph, how incredibly rude. Anywho… I think everyone knows they belong to Dick Wolf, etc.
Rating: PG
Category: Humor, Eames/Goren UST, friendship and maybe more
Spoilers: None that I'm aware of.
Author: Traci
Archiving and feedback: Archiving yes to amorous intent. Anywhere else, I'll say yes but just let me know where. Feedback is always welcomed with open arms at traci_ann@yahoo.com
Summary: Eames gets her revenge on Goren sort of. This is the 3rd story in the 'Late-Night Musings' series (which can be found at fanfiction.net). The first is titles 'Late-Night Musings' the 2nd is 'More Musings By Robert Goren'. There are references to the previous stories so if you haven't read the first two you may want to before reading this one.
Author's Notes: My sanity left me long ago. Actually, the reason for so many humorous stories for this show at the moment is because I'm not familiar enough with it just yet to write more serious stuff… but that will be coming along eventually. So for now I hope you all enjoy the insight into a mind that has simply gone on a permanent vacation… hope it remembers to send me a postcard at least.
And special thanks to Tracy L. for her um, encouragement in writing this and for her beta-ing skills. Thank you soooo much!!!!
You Don't Have To Be Richard Dean Anderson (aka Alex's Revenge)
The winter was never-ending. Record snowfalls and a record number of storms had crippled much of the Northeast, including New York City, for most of the season.
March had offered no relief.
A light snowfall had been forecast for the area so Robert 'Bobby' Goren had gone over to his partners house Friday after work so they could continue working on one of their most difficult cases.
However, as was usual, the weather forecasters had been wrong and by nine o'clock there was nearly a foot of snow on the ground and there were no signs of it ending.
"We are detectives. It would be wrong to kill the weather people, wouldn't it?" he growled while looking out her window.
Alexandra Eames laughed. "Yes. Though I'm sure a city holiday would be established for someone who did."
*****************
Goren awoke the next morning to find himself in a bed. Not his bed. It took him a moment to gather his bearings and he remembered he was sleeping on the pullout bed in his partner's living room. He smiled. Winter may have been relentless but at least it kept getting him snowed in with Alex.
"Cereal or pancakes?" she asked, yawning as she emerged from her bedroom wearing pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt.
"What? No eggs?" he teased.
She wrinkled her nose at him and disappeared into the kitchen. She had yet to forgive him for ruining eggs for her a few months back at his apartment when he had analyzed 'Humpty Dumpty' over a breakfast of scrambled eggs.
Pushing the covers off him, he went to get a shower. When he returned, he found an assortment of cereal boxes lined up on the table waiting for him. He had just poured himself a bowl of 'Lucky Charms' when Alex walked back in, dressed in jeans and a sweater.
"I hope you didn't have any plans for today," she said.
He smiled. "You'd miss me?"
"No," she grinned back. "The um, 'few inches' we were supposed to get so far has ended up being four feet."
"What? You're kidding?!" He went over to the kitchen window and realized it was solid white.
"There are snowdrifts well above seven feet," she mentioned, pouring herself a bowl of 'Frosted Flakes'.
"Still up for Miami?" he asked, returning to the kitchen table. "I'm sure you could sweet-talk Deakins into letting us transfer."
"Why me?" she protested.
"I don't think he'd go for me flashing my baby blues." He blinked innocently at her a few times before she laughed.
"Especially since you're eyes are brown," she chuckled. "We'd hate Miami, you realize," she told him. "We're both New Yorkers for better or worse."
"I know," he conceded, sighing.
The weather announcer on the radio came on. "Enjoy the sun if it should make an appearance today, folks. It's not over yet. Another storm will be arriving early tomorrow morning dropping another foot or so of the white stuff on us. Since we seem to have moved to the Artic and no one told us, please do not feed any polar bears you may see wandering the streets," he joked.
Goren glared at the radio. "Are you really sure we couldn't argue justifiable homicide?"
"I'd buy it as a defense," she said. "Looks like you're stuck here all weekend."
"Are you sure you don't mind?"
She smiled at him – a sincere smile. "I'm sure. So long as you don't bring up the Grimm Brothers or Mother Goose or anything."
"I promise."
They finished breakfast and retreated to her living room. Flipping on the television, she surfed the channels, suddenly stopping. "A MacGyver marathon!"
"MacGyver?" Goren asked, slightly amused.
"You watch you're forensic shows, I'll watch my cheesy eighties shows."
He shook his head, turning his attention to the episode presently on. "You do realize it would not be possible for anyone to build a bomb out of bubblegum wrappers and string."
"Oh no." She turned to him. "Don't you dare think about picking apart MacGyver."
"All I'm saying is…"
"I know exactly what you're saying," she interrupted. "You leave MacGyver alone."
He laughed and sat back on the couch.
As the third episode of TV Land's marathon began, Alex returned with a large bowl of popcorn and set it on the couch between them. "I'm actually impressed with you, Bobby."
"For what?"
"You've managed not to analyze this yet."
"Not out loud anyway." He grinned at her.
She turned her attention back to the TV while Goren picked up an art book she had lying on the table beside him.
He was flipping through the pages when suddenly he heard her gasp. Looking up quickly, he asked, "What is it?"
"They shot MacGyver," she blurted out before she realized what she had said and blushed.
Goren laughed loudly. "You do realize it's just a show, right?"
She didn't answer.
"Alex?"
"Yeah, but… but it's Richard Dean Anderson, how can anyone shoot him?"
"You've got a crush on him?" he asked incredulously.
"Who wouldn't?" she admitted.
"Me."
She laughed. "I would hope not."
"You know, if watching this is too stressful for you, Discovery channel is airing a fascinating marathon of forensic science programs…"
"No way. It's the weekend. No work. No work related things."
"But…"
"No." She turned to face him. An evil grin grew across her lips. "Besides, when the MacGyver marathon ends, SciFi is airing a Stargate marathon… the other Richard Dean Anderson show."
"Great." Goren took a handful of popcorn. "So what does he have that makes women go ga-ga over him anyway?"
"I am not 'ga-ga' over him." She was silent for a moment. "But his eyes…"
Goren watched the show for a moment. "He's got brown eyes. So do I."
Eames managed to not look at her partner, trying to hide her smile. He was jealous. She found that she quite liked it.
The next episode found MacGyver and a friend trapped in a mine.
"Hey," Alex began, startling Bobby from the book he was reading. "That's the same mine where they filmed the Anasazi trilogy."
"The what?"
"X-Files. It was a three-parter. That's the same mine where Mulder and Scully found lots of files…" She stopped once again realizing that while she and Bobby were close, he had no idea of her interest in certain shows.
"Alexandra Eames, are you a TV junkie?"
"No, I just… well… I just remember certain things without trying." It was lame but it was the only excuse she could come up with. "Hey, they both were filmed in Vancouver, it's merely an observation."
"Uh-huh." With an amused smiled, he continued reading one of her books on art.
Three hours later ended the MacGyver marathon and began the Stargate SG-1 marathon. Goren had already looked through four art books and had managed to make a comment here and there regarding MacGyver and the actor who portrayed him.
"I don't supposed Disney is airing a marathon of fairy tales?" he asked her light-heartedly as the SG-1 team walked through an open wormhole.
"Not tonight." Eames, who was wrapped up in a blanket and resting against a pillow on the couch, looked over at him. "I thought you said fairy tales were bad for people anyway."
"Well, not all of them are that bad," he replied. "Some of them actually do have happy endings after all."
She decided not to delve further into that. It was a discussion she was not sure she was ready to have with him just yet.
Midnight approached and the last few minutes of the final episode of the marathon was on.
Though Goren had said nothing more about it, Eames could feel his jealously all the way at her end of the couch. Her heart and mind raced with the implications.
The ending credits appeared and she turned off the TV. "I'm heading to bed. Maybe tomorrow we can at least get to the market at the corner to get some food and such if the storms holds off a little."
"Sure." He yawned and helped her pull out the bed from the couch. "Sweet dreams of MacGyver," he called out sarcastically as she disappeared into her bedroom.
********************
During the night, Alex woke up. She quietly headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. Stopping for a moment, she smiled as she watched her partner sleep. Foregoing the water, she walked over to him. Placing a soft kiss on his lips, she whispered, "You don't have to be Richard Dean Anderson to be my Prince Charming."
"And you don't have to be sleeping to be my Sleeping Beauty," he whispered without opening his eyes.
She jumped back.
He opened his eyes and sat up, locking his eyes with hers and smiling.
Then she took a step closer, also smiling. "I wasn't asleep that night."
It was his turn to be shocked. "Wha…? I…"
Leaning down once again, she softly kissed him, sitting on the edge of the bed as she did so.
The kiss remained gentle and when it ended, they looked at each other.
Without another word, he pulled her to him and, together, they curled up on the bed.
"I'm glad not all fairy tales had gruesome endings," he softly whispered in her ear.
"Me too," she whispered back, placing another soft kiss on his lips before snuggling up and falling asleep safely in his arms.
The End