Author's Note: I've been toying with the idea of posting this story for some time because I'm not real sure how I feel about it. It was written a while back with the intention of serving a different purpose. However, I took in a new direction in order to answer my own question of, "How, exactly, did Alex tell Bobby that she was pregnant?" (Perhaps a better question is: "How should Alex have told Bobby?") In the end, I'm not sure what I've pulled off so you'll have to let me know. Just remember that I don't own any of these characters – Dick Wolf does (lucky, wealthy bastard). (PS – I dedicate this story to DL, who always knows the most appropriate moment to say the most inappropriate thing.)
"Here you go, dear. 'Til death do us part."
Alex Eames drops a narrow gold wedding band unceremoniously into the outstretched hand of her partner, Bobby Goren, her mouth forming the words in that way unique to women who think marriage is great – for other people. Yet despite her brusque manner and flippant words, what she's really feeling is an odd combination of excitement and trepidation. She knows what's about to happen – it's become routine, in fact – and yet today things are more complicated than they would have been if they'd done this yesterday. Today she has a secret - one that she needs to reveal to Bobby because it will effect him too, but one that she can't share just yet, for the news will most certainly cause him to take pause. She will shock him with her secret – shock and frighten him - and therefore she must keep it to herself for the moment. After all, she doesn't dare throw their balance into jeopardy while they're working; to do so would put them both at risk, to say nothing of ruining their case. Yet her secret also offers her a slight advantage that she's never had before in this type of situation. In fact, this may be her big chance to finally break Bobby's perfect record of wins at the game they play so often – the one that they are preparing to play right now.
Alex climbs from behind the wheel of the Explorer, impatient with her partner, who's shuffling slowly to her side, his eyes glued to the sidewalk in a manner that indicates he's planning out their upcoming performance in his head. He's undoubtedly also plotting his next victory over her with his usual brash confidence.
Wryly, she thinks to herself that if he had an inkling of her secret, he'd no doubt take an hour to walk around the car and his certainty would vanish.
There's an amount of satisfaction that accompanies holding such a powerful secret within one's self, she concludes.
With a slight roll of her eyes and shake of her head at his behavior, Alex ultimately slides up to him and grabs his right hand in her left, leaning into his arm with her body the way only a wife or girlfriend would. The act they're performing will be complete from the moment they step from the car until they're safely on their way back to One Police Plaza and the pair has practiced this charade on enough occasions that it's flawless. Everything about their outward appearance fits their characters – from their casual yet affluent dress (slacks and a white button-down shirt under a black leather jacket for him and stylish pants with a cashmere sweater under a jean jacket for her) to their affectionate handholding and side-by-side sauntering to the door. It doesn't escape Alex's attention that neither has to say anything as they fall into this act; it just happens. Still, for the briefest of moments before she took his hand, she had worried that this time it wouldn't be the case, that somehow he would sense her secret (in that all too perceptive way of his) and they would stumble over each other like two people on a blind date.
But Bobby never falters. His mind is locked on their case and his role and Alex herself has fully become her character as far as he's concerned. It's an odd trait of his, she's observed in their time as partners, in that he is often surprised by things she says or does – something completely out of character for him. When it comes to reading other people's motives and histories, he displays an uncanny knack for assembling a complete picture using few details. Someone could be standing ten feet away in a crowd of people and he could glance at him or her for a millisecond and glean all kinds of information, yet Alex can stand right beside him, their arms touching, and he misses all but the most obvious things. Ultimately, she doesn't know what to attribute this to but she finds herself immeasurably amused by the irony it presents.
Bobby told her in the car that he suspects that the jewelry designer they're about to visit in conjunction with the murder of a fellow designer is guilty of stealing ideas from the victim – and most likely of committing murder too. Still, without speaking to the suspect – Ramon Torres – in person, they won't be able to ascertain his guilt or innocence. Hence the need for the partners to pretend they're married and visit him under the premise that Alex needs a necklace and earrings to go with her dress for an upcoming formal event.
Alex feels her stomach flutter with anticipation as they step through the door, washing away all signs of nervousness from earlier. She's ready to play the game. What's more, she's sure her partner knows this – not just because she's squeezing his hand harder than she needs to, but because he too seems to be on his toes and eager to get started. His head has even begun weaving a bit the way it does whenever he's gearing up for a big mental effort.
Bring it on, Goren, she thinks, allowing herself a small, satisfied smile. You don't stand a chance at winning today.
When or how the whole competition between them began, she can't remember exactly. All she knows is that one day, without ever mentioning it out loud, the two began to seize every available opportunity to one-up each other, attempting to see who could say the most astounding and embarrassing thing at the most inopportune moment. It isn't something they do every day – if they did, Bobby would win hands down, thanks to his encyclopedic stores of useless trivia and seeming indifference towards other people's comfort levels. Instead, it's reserved for those occasions when they're working undercover, those instances when they're pretending to be married (like today) or playing two people who've never met before. It's these situations that make things particularly interesting - after all, once they get into character, they can't very well break in the middle, laughing or looking horrified at what the other has just said. It would blow their cover and ruin everything. Further, if their behavior in such instances ever became public knowledge, Deakins would have their hides tacked to his office wall and Carver would draw and quarter what was left. These factors, naturally, serve only to make the game more interesting and keep them playing over and over again.
They also continue to play because Bobby has a perfect winning record and a love of flaunting it just to push Alex's buttons just so he can see the frown of frustration pass over her face. It's not terribly surprising that he's undefeated – it is, after all, Bobby's ideal game and far more challenging to his brain than Trivial Pursuit. He takes it very seriously and Alex loves nothing better than when she manages to score a point against him. Still, it's never enough just to score one point because Bobby manages to rack them up by the dozens, it seems. Alex senses that there's a victory out there for her somewhere, though - a chance to knock the king from his throne if only for a day.
Thanks to her secret, today feels like that day.
Bobby takes the lead and as soon as they're inside, cueing the beginning of match play as he falls effortlessly into his over-the-top doting husband act, painting the ridiculously silly grin onto his face that makes Alex want to roll her eyes and make gagging noises. They're in character, though, so she pretends that she's as giddy and in love as he is, mimicking his smile with one of her own.
They are instantly spotted by one of Ramon Torres' employees, a lithe Asian girl who clicks over in a pair of three-inch heels to ask if she can help them.
"Absolutely," Bobby replies grandly, then drapes his arm affectionately over Alex's shoulders and pulls her in close, his bulk nearly engulfing her small form. "Do you have anything here that is as lovely as this woman?"
Alex can't help it - her shoulders tense in preparation for a laugh because she's somehow forgotten amongst the morning's worries just how much fun this can be. She manages to grab the laugh before it emerges, though, and replace it with a playful, "Oh stop it – you're embarrassing me."
"I mean it," he lays on the charm and Alex knows the game is really on – like tennis players, they will volley back and forth like this until one of them is soundly trounced and concedes victory to the other. The loser will buy drinks after work. She feels the nerves flicker a bit but pushes them away because there is no time for distraction while Bobby's still talking, upping the ante and baiting her with practiced ease.
She waits for an opening and bides her time - Alex gives as good as she gets and she wants to be prepared at the right moment.
"We're looking for the perfect necklace for this beautiful woman – something that can perform the impossible feat of making her look even more radiant."
Bobby gazes down at his partner with puppy-like affection now and she meets his gaze briefly to show she's accepted the challenge. It's almost enough to elicit a big out-of-character grin from him and she feels a twinge from somewhere inside – she's going to miss this game while she's on leave. It's something that's uniquely theirs and can't be duplicated, though this knowledge does make her feel a little better about stepping aside temporarily. The department can fill her desk while she's gone - and they will - but they won't fill her place. That will be waiting for her when she gets back – and so will Bobby.
Alex breaks away from Bobby's eyes and speaks to the salesgirl about the style of necklace she's looking for while she wraps an arm around his waist – under his jacket, for good measure. Her other hand reaches up to trace a finger in circles over his chest, a big play that she knows from previous matches will get to her partner. Something about her lack of inhibition physically, about her willingness to advertise to everyone within ten feet of them that she would be all over him if they weren't in public, tends to make him more than a little nervous. It so clearly oversteps the boundaries of their professional partnership that she knows it never fails to rattle him.
Score is tied at one to one now.
Her smile is radiant as her hand continues roaming. "I don't deserve him, but I think I'll keep him anyway." A pause to make sure that their act is pulling the girl in – it is – and then, "He's promised to buy me a Ramon Torres original to go with the dress I bought for his company's black tie ball next month."
"Well, you've come to the right place," the girl's mouth curls up in anticipation of a big sale.
"Is Ramon in today, by any chance?" Bobby asks, grabbing Alex's hand to stop its motion and holding it still by his heart – a nice block.
"Oh my gosh – I'd love to meet him!" Alex gushes beside him.
The girl takes an involuntary step backwards, pushed by the force of their enthusiasm, but says, "Let me see if he's free."
"Did you hear that?" Alex whirls to face her partner, who now clasps both of her hands in his own. They're grinning like fools again.
"I told you I'd only get you the best," he tries to make sure his voice will carry out of the room and into Torres' office, which is directly behind the sales counter. After all, they may be playing a game here, but they still have a job to do. Neither has forgotten that – but neither wants to lose either.
Alex is pretending to brush lint from Bobby's collar when the Asian girl returns, a handsome Hispanic man in an immaculate suit on her heels.
"Hello," he greets them. "I am Ramon Torres."
"Oh my gosh I can't believe I'm meeting you in person!" Alex stifles the snarky version of herself who threatens to choke on the words as they exit her lips. Torres is one of those overly suave metrosexuals who wears too much cologne and is way too wrapped up in himself, as indicated by the self-assured smirk on his face.
"My wife is a fan," Bobby tells him, putting on the air of a put upon yet still enamoured spouse.
"Your wife is lovely," Torres says by way of answer, scooping up Alex's left hand – the one sporting the enormously fake cubic zarconia – and kissing it in continental fashion.
Alex can feel her partner's inward wince then, the involuntary one that occurs every time a man comes on to her in his presence. She doesn't chalk it up to jealousy, but rather protectiveness. The men they deal with on cases are usually dangerous sociopaths who can't be trusted – and she suspects that Ramon Torres is no different. There's something in his eye that glints dangerously and though she is confident in her own abilities, she's glad for Bobby's comfortable bulk behind her.
"Yes she is," Bobby agrees with the designer, adding, "And I've been told that you're just the man to make the necklace to complete her outfit for our company's formal event."
Torres gives a slow and confident blink. "You are well informed."
"Yeah," Bobby begins to prattle now and Alex knows it's half time for their game. "I've seen what you can do. Your work is on par with any European designer working today – and it's far better than the stuff Paul Tobin was turning out. At least I think it was Paul Tobin – wasn't he the one that was just killed...?"
He pretends to fumble as though making sure and Alex supplies help quickly, her tone gossipy: "It was Tobin – killed in his own shop, I think. How tragic!"
"Tragic," Bobby echoes and without even looking Alex knows that he's waiting for Torres' reaction. He'll gauge it carefully, then use it to plan his next move. The game is now between the two cops and the designer; they've served and are waiting for a return volley.
It's swift: Torres' eyes glint with anger and then it's gone, replaced by the greedy expression of a true salesman. His lips form the words, "Yes, simply tragic. He was talented – in his own way..."
"Mm," Bobby agrees, shaking his head as though in sad disbelief. "The papers all say he was working on a design that was going to turn the market on its ear."
"He had nothing," a sharp edge has come to Torres' tone and Alex sees his eyes begin to cloud with suspicion at their motives. There is also something else in his manner too – undeniable guilt – and she knows that Bobby has seen it too. Proof will come later – they now have the information they've been looking for.
Alex steps in to smooth things over: "I loved that ruby necklace that model wore on the cover of Elle – do you think you could do something like that for me?"
Torres visibly relaxes at the change in subject and for the next half-hour, he is the perfect host while the two police officers banter like smitten newlyweds and somehow manage to extract themselves gracefully from the studio without purchasing anything.
Unfortunately, they also exit the studio with the score of their personal game still tied.
"He did it," Bobby tells Alex as they climb into the car and pull away from the curb. He retrieves his battered notebook from the backseat and opens it to pull out photos from the crime scene.
"Yeah, but now we have to prove it," Alex agrees.
She doesn't think Bobby's paying attention to her, so absorbed in the pictures is he, until she gets closer to the office and he says without lifting his eyes, "Drinks at O'Malley's tonight?"
Alex recalls the status of their competition, then, and realizes that they'll have to go into overtime, a rare occurrence that forces the pair to resort to something that she usually dreads, but feels up to on this day. All of her nervousness from earlier is still there, but is being pushed aside by the knowledge of two things:
One: she needs to tell him her secret anyway and today is as good a day as any.
Two: her revelation assures a victory and she wants to win badly.
Bobby Goren will have his overtime and Alex Eames will get her victory - they just have to wrap this case up first.
Back at the office, they move quickly to their desks and spread the crime scene pictures out before them to figure out what it is they've missed. Beside it, they place the sketch of the necklace design Torres' has proposed for Alex. Their hope is that the two somehow supply the physical evidence they're looking for.
"It has to be here," Bobby says, resting his head on his right hand the way he does whenever he's perplexed. "We just have to find it."
"Maybe..." Alex starts to say, then stops herself because she's caught "it" – the mistake Torres made that's going to take him down.
"You're right," Bobby's eyes meet her own and she knows they've hit on it together.
They speak the truth in perfect unison: "He stole the prototype for Tobin's new necklace design."
It's there before them – there are sketches in the background of the crime scene photos that perfectly match the necklace Torres sketched for Alex but there's no prototype – just an empty velvet case where one had been. A search warrant will no doubt turn the stolen necklace up at Torres' studio.
They sit back in their chairs and smile at each other in relaxed fashion, relieved to have solved the case - and yet there's no time to revel in their accomplishment because there is still a game to finish
"You ready to go?" Alex asks him evenly.
"After you," Bobby stands and gestures for her to go first, chivalrous as always.
They pass Captain Deakins in the hall as they move to the elevators.
"O'Malley's?" he asks by way of farewell and Alex is stunned. He knows. In fact, he's probably known all along about their game – and he even seems amused by it. Apparently as long as it doesn't get in the way of their high rate of solved cases, he doesn't care either.
"Yep," both nod in unison, not letting their surprise stop their progress. They do, however, exchange startled glances at Deakins' ability to know more about them than they give him credit for.
At the pub, they slide into their favorite booth and square off across the table. Overtime is always sudden death – the next one to score a point will buy the drinks.
"You feel like a drink, dear?" he asks, emphasizing the term of endearment to bring back the day's earlier events.
And as he beams at her – clearly confident of his own abilities and fully expecting to win like he always has - Alex is presented with the perfect opportunity to score a final, definitive point and seal her first victory.
Instead of saying anything to him, however, she flags down a waitress – a skinny woman of about thirty with curly red hair and a bright smile. She's new to O'Malley's – at least Alex has never seen her here before – and the detective fights back a grin at her own good fortune. The grin widens when she notices that her partner has handed her the last key to her victory without even realizing it: Bobby is still wearing his wedding band. Alex removed hers at the office, annoyed by the large fake diamond, but Bobby didn't give his gold band a second thought and it's still winking at her from the ring finger of his left hand.
Victory will be sweet, she thinks shrewdly.
"I'll have a pint of Guinness," Bobby orders when the waitress inquires politely, "and she'll have..."
He trails off, then looks at Alex, "Hard cider?"
She smiles at him like the proverbial canary-sated cat. "Actually, sweetie, I won't be having either for a while."
Her partner's face blanches with surprise and clear trepidation at where she's going with this. She's used a similar tactic before, but something in Bobby's face shows that this time he realizes it's different. It's possible that he even sees his victory slipping away before his eyes.
"You what?" he manages to ask, head tilted to the left in confusion.
To the waitress, Alex says, "Make mine ice water with lemon, please."
She turns back to Bobby and announces grandly: "I'm pregnant."
Bobby looks hopelessly perplexed at this announcement and Alex can tell that he's weighing her words and attempting to determine the degree of her seriousness. Fear has crept into his features because something in him senses that she's telling the truth – and Alex fights the urge to smile.
"Pregnant." Bobby repeats the word blankly. He's obviously decided that he doesn't believe her, that she's only playing the game.
The waitress grins and slaps Bobby heartily on the shoulder, saying, "Congratulations to the both of you – drinks are on me!"
Victory isn't sure yet, though, Alex knows. She still needs to seal the deal with another layer of words: "Now, I know you'll have a hard time telling your wife, but you said yourself she's a strong woman and I'm sure she'll come out of the divorce just fine..."
He stares blankly at her. "My wife..."
"Yeah, you know, the woman you married ten years ago," Alex points out, making it up as she goes along but liking her idea the more she expounds on it. "Anyway, I'm sure she'll hit a rough patch, but..."
"I'm not married..." Bobby is visibly fumbling now.
"Yeah, that's what you said when we met," Alex cuts him off. "It's a little late for that lie now, though. Next thing I know, you'll be saying this isn't your baby..."
Her partner's face turns an unhealthy shade of crimson and his eyes widen to the size of saucers while he processes not only what Alex has said, but the waitress's interpretation of it. She's glaring harshly at Bobby now, mouth gaping at his audacity and callousness as related by Alex.
"Well!" is all she says as she whirls in the direction of the bar and leaves the pair to themselves. A moment of utter silence ensues.
"You think the drinks are still on her?" Alex finally asks innocently.
Bobby's eyes lift to hers she receives confirmation of her victory. It's in the puff of air that's expelled from his lungs to express his surprise and in the way his face has paled slightly. His eyes roll briefly to the ceiling as though to question why women must be such complex creatures while his left hand collapses palm-down onto the table, the fingers splaying weakly. He stares at the hand briefly, then looks to her and speaks.
"Drinks will be on me - she's going to dump that beer in my lap."
He smiles at her now in amusement and in clear awe of her ability to snatch the win away from him in such unexpected and decisive fashion. She's stunned him again.
"You'll deserve it from what I heard about you," Alex smiles, taking the joke a bit farther. "Sneaking around behind your poor wife's back..."
He openly laughs now and she recalls the other reason they play this game. They play not only because it amuses them, but also because it never fails to remind them of how important they are to each other, how much power each has over the other one.
The waitress returns with their drinks now and delivers them with a wordless glare, one now directed to both the adulterer and the pregnant mistress (or so she sees them). Alex and Bobby can only smile and watch her go.
Bobby's eyebrows suddenly narrow, then, and he thinks to say, "Eames – you never got a real drink. The game's over now – what'll you have?"
She smiles at him again, a sincere smile that she knows will make her point for her. "Bobby, I really am pregnant. I've agreed to be a surrogate for my sister and her husband."
He gapes and Alex wonders briefly which is the bigger miracle, the one she carries inside her now or the fact that she's just scored two victories over Bobby Goren in one day.
Ultimately, she decides it's a tie.