Goren was a little anxious in the restaurant before Mercy arrived. Alex got a call to let her know she was going to be late. One of her dogs chased a squirrel over the fence and got tangled in the neighbor's deer wire around the vegetable garden.
"She said she should be here in a few minutes," Alex said, flagging down a waitress.
"Is she a dog person?" asked Goren, politely accepting a refill in his coffee cup.
"Animal person," corrected Alex. "The human race gets on her nerves, but she's got her soft spots."
Goren nodded. "What exactly is it about people that annoys her?"
Alex thought a moment. "She doesn't suffer fools. She's a genius, and she's impatient with people who aren't. Without someone to understand what she's talking about, she gets frustrated."
He nodded again. "Lack of mental stimulation."
Alex grinned. "Yeah, you know what that feels like." He shrugged as she continued. "Anyway, pay attention to what she says. She's got a helluva vocabulary and a tendency to be... poetic." She took a sip of her coffee and set it back down. "She is from Georgia, after all."
Goren's curiosity was peaked but at that moment Mercy appeared. "Sorry about that," she said, taking Alex's hand. "It's nothing serious. He should be fine."
She reached for her chair but in a flash Goren had it out for her. Beginning to feel like a princess, she took the seat and smiled when he sat down next to her at the little round table.
"What kind of dog is he?" Goren asked, undoing the button on his jacket.
She ran her eyes over the menu. "This was Stanly, my little beagle. Tiny and Boomer just kind of sat there, looking at him like he was nuts."
Alex's eyes grew huge. "Jesus, you still have Boomer?"
Mercy grinned. "Yep."
"What's a Boomer?" asked Goren, feeling left out.
"The Australian term for kangaroo, and the name of my Basset hound." Goren grinned. You just can't beat a lazy old Basset hound.
"How old is he now?" asked Alex.
Mercy strained her memory. "I guess about fifteen."
Goren whistled low. "Doesn't he have arthritis or hip displacia or anything pertaining to a Basset that age?"
"He should," Mercy acknowledged. "But he's just as happy as he can be."
"Hm," said Alex, looking at her pointedly. "I wonder why that is."
Mercy spread her arms out wide. "He knows he's loved."
Alex allowed herself a glance in Goren's direction. Damn he looked good today. "I don't think I've met Tiny, but knowing you that name means..."
"She's a Saint Bernard," said Mercy, smiling.
"How many—uh—creatures do you have?" asked Goren.
Mercy paused. "Three dogs, two cats, two love birds, a goldfish, and I've got a horse at Sunrise Stables."
Alex shook her head, not at all surprised. "Where did you get all those?" asked Goren, fascinated.
"The shelter. Actually, I bought Anna, my horse, from the police after she was shot." She grinned. "They wanted to put her down. Thought she was hopeless. They'd never met me before." She sipped her water and changed the subject. "What did I miss?"
"Before you called we were discussing the Montgomery murder," answered Alex.
Goren sighed and started rearranging the sugar packets, lining them up perfectly vertical, Splenda with Splenda, Sweet-N-Lo with Sweet-N-Lo, Equate with Equate.
"Talking shop on your lunch break," Mercy asked, watching the long fingers deftly line up the sugar. "That's not healthy. Hasn't anybody seen any good movies lately?"
They sat in silence for a long moment, finally Mercy sighed. "I took my niece to see Shrek 2 back in July. That's the last I've been."
"Congratulations," said Alex. "Three years more recent than my last." She frowned suddenly, her wheels turning. "Wait a minute, how old is your niece now?"
"Lily? She'll be eleven on November twenty-second."
"That's right," said Alex. "I remember her being born on your birthday."
Goren cocked his head, making the silent mental note. "How many have you got?" he asked. "Nieces and nephews, I mean."
Mercy shrugged. "I really don't know. I have six younger brothers. Four of them I don't know where they are. One lives back home in Atlanta. The other is up here." She grinned. "Been married twice. I like his new wife. She doesn't take any of his crap."
Alex grinned. "Who is that? Ronnie?"
"Yeah," said Mercy, returning the grin. "You remember."
"You bet I do," she mumbled. "Most arrogant SOB to ever..." she caught herself, looking at Goren. "Well, second most."
"Hey!" he whined playfully.
"Would you please stop picking on him?" Mercy looked at his hands to find he was still playing with the sugar, although their food had come. Without thinking, she placed her hands on top of his and looked kindly into his sleepy brown eyes. He let her pry his fingers away and felt cold when she let go. "So, Detective Goren, tell me about yourself."
He flexed his hand. Tingly.
"Well, what do you want to know?"
She chewed through a bite of salmon and considered. "Well, if it's ok for me to ask, what's your family like?"
Alex tensed as he lowered his eyes, but Mercy couldn't think of anything to say in apology. "It's small," he answered. "I'm an only child, my dad left when I was a kid, and my mother is—isn't well."
Mercy sensed something in his answer the majority of other people would easily overlook. She shook her head. "I don't know what to say." She watched him for a long moment, monitoring his movements for an idea. "I apologize for bringing it up and offer my condolences on your lost childhood. I know the feeling."
She fought hard to keep the resentment out of her voice.
He looked back to her face, the sunlight playing on her bright eyes. The smile in them was gone as her mind traveled to unpleasant times. Her alabaster skin was pulled tight with a fury of emotions.
"God, you're beautiful," he breathed. The volume of the dining room seemed to drop a decibel or two.
Alex gawked at him. He told her she was beautiful all the time, but never in that tone. She then gawked at Mercy turning a brilliant shade of red.
"Goren!" Alex exclaimed. He only grinned that suave Goren grin.
"Detective," Mercy grinned, leaning in as her drawl eased across the table. "That is quite unnecessary."
Goren waved his hand dismissively. "Please, call me Robert."
Alex inhaled sharply. Mercy only grinned. "I will do no such thing, Bobby."
He cocked his head at her, not quite sure what to do with this character. She straightened up. "Maybe we should stick to talking shop after all. Where did Carver go for vacation, do you know?"
"Bahamas," said Eames, enviously.
Mercy cocked an eyebrow at her own internal dialogue. "Two weeks in the Bermuda Triangle with a jealous wife. This could end nicely for us."
"Mercy!" scolded Alex.
She held up her hands. "Never mind, never mind. What was it you said you were working on?"
"The Montgomery murder," Alex reminded her. Bobby reached for the sugar packets again but Mercy sent him a look. He changed his mind.
"Suspect yet?" Mercy asked, raising her glass to her lips.
"Richie D'Abruzzi," Alex answered.
Mercy snorted. "Good luck. I remember that kid. I remember the D'Abruzzis, too."
Alex shook her head. "So much potential..."
Mercy grinned knowingly. "Just because he's cute doesn't mean he'll amount to something, Al."
"I know, but you can always hope." She paused, playing with her fork. "Is it bad that I think he's cute?"
Mercy waved away this idea. "Don't' worry. When it comes to Italians, count on anyone whose last name starts with D-apostrophe to be hot." Goren shifted uncomfortably. "But anyway," continued Mercy quickly, "we should take a moment to congratulate the Red Sox on their glorious victory this year."
"What?" exclaimed Goren, taken aback. Not by her randomness, no. Never. By her idea. "That was a pity victory to let them break the Curse. You can't tell me Damon didn't have it too easy out there."
"Easy or no," said Mercy with a grin, "the Curse is broken, and the Yankees are in trouble."
Mercy knows a baseball man when she sees one. The three bonded over sports, politics, cars, books, songs, artists, what have you. Once again Mercy's watch beeped. Once again their lunch was cut short, twenty minutes late. And of course plans were made for the m to meet up the very next day.
"I hope tomorrow's as pretty as it is today," said Goren, feeling the warm light on his face. "This sun puts everybody in such a good mood."
Mercy smiled. "But Detective, if sunshine made you happy, you could never dance in the rain."