Disclaimer: The characters are the property of Mr.Wolf & co. Me owns the plot, well if u could call it that.
Authors Note: this chapter had been, ummm, for lack of a better word - dodgy. I had good intentions but they dissipated. Oh well! ;) I hope it's enjoyed anyway. Ta's to Brandy and Black Storm for the help. And to all those that reviewed; your all wonderful.
PLZ R & R
+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+
"SHIT!" he hollered. 'Where is it?' Panic struck his mind as he paced anxiously up and down the dark paved ground. He leaned his head back in pain, catching the full brunt of the rain. So frustrated yet detached from reality, he conceded that it was gone. Maybe infinitely. He stood in the middle of the road, looking with despair at the vacant space. The one time he desired to emancipate himself from this world and yet another distortion of fate held him back. It was suffocating him, breaking his will and conforming him into a monotonous lifestyle. The reflections of street lamps created gold dapples on the sheets of water that laden the ground. The hazy gold of approaching headlights forced him to flee to the footpath. He brought his hand up to his head rubbing it in annoyance. He kicked a puddle, scattering a million drops into the air, and watched them fall back to the ground, swallowed up and carried away. Now drenched to the bone in the bitter cold, he ran back to Alex's apartment.
'Tap tap', the doors touch burnt his cold hands. There was no response. "Alex?" he yelled through the door.
"Just a minute." Came the muffled reply from the other side of the brown oak.
"Alex, I'm freezing solid here." Bobby replied impatiently, shaking, as droplets trickled down his shoulders, forehead and hands.
She opened the door, dressed in a fluffy white robe and slippers; she clutched her arms around herself as if she felt naked. Her reddened eyes took him aback. She had been crying. The woman he loved the most in the world and he had reduced her to tears.
"Bobby." She finally said. "What the hell do you think your doing?" She spoke with anxiety, biting her lips as she did so. Trying desperately to hold back the tears swelling in her eyes. Trying to hide the lump forming in her throat, stilting her breath. Trying to hide from his eyes, the chocolate eyes that could see straight through any disguise, any carefully executed mannerism or cover-up. The eyes that could strip down all the bullshit in an instant, and recognise the real her. And right now all she wanted was for him to be blind, just so he wouldn't see her hurting, see her vulnerability. Hell, she had seniority.
"My cars gone." He explained, avoiding provocation. He watched her intently, shaken on the inside, acting on the out. It scared him to see her vulnerability exposed, she was always so strong and stable. She held him together; she kept him on the favorable side of the line between genius and madness. If she wasn't there to suspend his fall, then no one else could. And then he might ……slide.
"Gone?"
He nodded, motioning with his hands to go inside, swallowing possible words as he did so. She stepped aside, watching him trail down her hallway.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Alex. Certain. Its not where I parked it, it's not in the street and I seriously doubt its…" He stopped himself, conscious that the bitter tone of his voice was causing further detriment.
She raised her hand in defense, "Coffee?"
He half smiled his thanks as he walked into her lounge, dialing his phone. "….yes, it's a 1965 GTO, black……yes……Saldon Street……… No, I don't live there…… Not sure.." He shifted his gaze up to her eyes. "I was preoccupied…." She met his eyes until she felt her cheeks beginning to burn from the unease. Alex picked up the dishes standing to command on the wooden drying rack and began to rewash them. After a while he walked up behind her, his presence was overwhelming; physically, mentally and emotionally. He lightly placed his fingertips on her shoulder, an attempt to comfort his guilt and her distress. A comfort that made the tears grasp at her throat again, as if perused by the electricity in his touch. "They have it on record, I don't need to go in."
She nodded. Trying to smell the coffee, not his aftershave that hung in the air.
"Why are you rewashing dried dishes?" Cocking his head into her eye line, hands grasping the edging of the bench, as he leaned his weight onto it.
"They were left out overnight, its better they be rewashed." She cowered at the blatant stupidity of the excuse.
"Oh?"
He picked up a teatowel and began to dry.
"Bobby, there is no need."
"Oh, don't tell me. The tea towel was left out overnight?" He said with a smirk. Her face said it all, a smile dissolved by a poignant frown.
She turned back to the dishes, knocking a delicate glass to the tiled floor in her haste. It shattered into a million pieces, carpeting the silver concrete with an intricate pattern.
"Figures." She mumbled, crouching down to the floor, flicking little shards of glass into her palm.
"Alex, You haven't got shoes on. Here…" he said, crouching down and whisking her up into his arms, and onto her bench. Then bending down himself, collecting the little crystal fragments from the floor. "Dust pan??"
"Third cupboard on the right."
He dumped the remnants of the glass into the bin. And then poured the coffee. 'White with one.' Alex thought, she had never told him that. He must have picked it up one day. These little perceptions were so frequent; she had become almost blasé about it. Still thinking about it struck her. He could tell if her if she was tired by the way she held her pen and the way she crossed her arms when interrogating male suspects was apparently her mental resistance. Bobby found complications in simplicity. 'Advanced Simplicity'' he called it. His eyes were absent to black and white, they could only comprehend grey. 'How can things be black and white, Eames. A million variations bind together to create this one outcome. And only one change could send this down a completely different path. That's why everything is grey, because independence is a myth. ' And this why his presence overwhelmed her. For all of Alex's successes at school, at college and in the force; it all paled into insignificance against his mind. And she would never fully understand him for it. 'Any other myths?' She could still see his vivid smile at her interest. 'Democracy.' He pontificated. 'How come?' 'Democracy is only for the enlightened. And in a society that so often suppresses vital facts, it loses its meaning.' He could shred something so defined into ciaos, and still have you comprehending every word. And he stood before her, hand rubbing the back of his neck with urgency, contemplating his next move.
"Alex?"
+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+:::+
