1A/N:This story is post-Final Breath. (For those who haven't read Final Breath: #1 - It may not make sense or have any impact; and #2: Shame on You! Now go read and review, please! LOL
I know I said that in my next story, I'd resurrect Alex and write something happy, but this scenario kept running through my mind and writing it was the only way I could exorcise it.
The Usual Disclaimers: I own no right, title or vested interested in the LO:CI characters, but thank Mr. Wolf for "letting them come out to play with us."
Keep a Promise, Inherit a Partner
Today was like every other day – the same routine: wake up, shower, do minimal make-up, style hair, dress and go to work. She'd done it thousands of times before.
Why did she have butterflies in her stomach?
Upon examining the question, she realized when they actually began fluttering. It was late in the afternoon, Friday, when she got the call. Her transfer request had been approved; she was to report to her new assignment on Monday morning.
Was it possible to simultaneously look forward to something and dread it? She tried to calm herself, mentally keeping her "pros and cons" list. "Pros: promotion, higher pay, prestige of the Squad, itself; prestige of new partner's reputation; more interesting/challenging cases...far more interesting/challenging partner. Oh, maybe that one should be on the "Cons" list," she joked to herself.
She assessed herself in the mirror, giving her dark Liz Claiborne suit and powder blue blouse a nod of approval. She loved the fit and feel of the suit, and this particular blouse gave beautiful accent to her eye and hair colors. Then she noticed the face looking back in the reflection – "like a goddamn deer in the headlights," she criticized herself. It was the look that overtook her features whenever the other half of her list, the "cons," crept into her mind. She didn't need to go over them again – – they had nagged her all weekend, resulting in a slight headache and nausea that she still hadn't quite overcome.
"Enough of this, I'm gonna' be late," she told herself. She locked her apartment and headed for work. It was a beautiful morning; the sounds and scents of the busy city morning made her feel alive and renewed her confidence – she was happy to be a part of it. Adding to her sense of satisfaction was the fact that she noticed a few male heads turning as she walked to the subway.
Her commute was uneventful. She enjoyed the subway ride, as it afforded her time to think and people watch. As any good cop, it had become second nature to always keep eyes and ears open in her surroundings, but that didn't seem to interfere with her ability to lose herself in thought, as well. And think she did...
Back to the day two weeks prior, when she had visited Alex's grave. She had made up her mind on the trip over that if anyone else was there paying their respects – especially him, that she would leave – or at least wait until they/he left, so that she could be alone during her visit. The plot of land was meticulously maintained and she could hardly believe that only a month had gone by since the burial. Where before there was a deep hole and a pile of rich-brown earth, there was now plush green grass, and a beautiful, fresh bouquet of flowers. She knew who had left them. She wondered when Alex's headstone was going to be placed and what it would say. She looked to the right, reading the headstone of Alex's husband, and thought it so sweet that the two of them were together. To the left, it was bare. She wondered what random stranger would some day be lying next to Alex, sharing their eternity, as well.
She sat cross-legged between the two plots and began talking, softly:
"Hi Alex. The place looks beautiful. If it wasn't for all the headstones around me, I'd feel like I was on the great lawn of Central Park, getting ready for a picnic. (She knew Alex wouldn't mind her sense of humor). The sky today is a beautiful, perfect blue, with a cottony white cloud passing here and there. It reminds me of how you described the day when you and Bobby went on your first picnic and, well, you remember what happened.
Speaking of Bobby, he left you a huge bouquet of flowers...but you probably already know that, don't you? (she said with a slight chuckle).
Well, I just wanted to stop by and say hi and, well, to let you know that I kept my promise. I put in for the transfer, so I'm just waiting to hear back. I know we talked about this and how...how he would be. I'm gonna' do everything I can to help him. I remember everything you said – everything you warned me about – I kept notes, so don't worry.
I know that in his eyes, I'll never be able to replace you and I know it's gonna' be hard, for him and me, I won't kid myself, and we'll have our share of rough spots, but, I gave you my word and a promise is a promise: I will never leave the MCS or Det. Robert Goren of my own volition...no matter what he may do to make my life miserable...(she chuckled for a moment, but instantly returned to the solemness of her vow) ...I'll never abandon him.
So, I guess I'll be going now." She stood and brushed a few loose blades of grass from her jeans. "I just wanted to make sure you knew that– I'm keeping my promise and, umm, thanks for being such a great mentor."
While walking back to the cemetery gate, she had felt a slight tickle on her arm and found a tiny ladybug. Her mother had always told her it was good luck when a ladybug landed on you. At this point, she decided she needed all the "good-luck" omens she could find – she was going to need it.
The screech of the subway car as it pulled into her stop snapped her back to the present, but she was just as quickly lost in thought again, as she exited the station, ascending the steps to the busy sidewalk just a block away from One Police Plaza.
She had fond memories of the time she spent partnered with Eames while Bobby was out on a short leave, due to exhaustion. It was easier being partnered with a woman – someone who really understood what it was like being a female trying to make it in the male-dominated world of the NYPD. But, of even more interest to her, was getting the low-down on what it was like to be –to really be, the partner of Det. Robert Goren and not just some temporary fill-in.
Eames had given her great comfort in assuring her that her stint as his "partner" wasn't as horrible and unsuccessful as her own doubts and insecurities had made it out to be. Maybe they hadn't worked like a well-oiled machine, but they did do some solid police work and brought some bad people to justice. "As a matter of fact," Eames had told her, "Bobby's only complaint was that you just weren't me." Eames had gone on, reassuring her, "He thinks you're very bright and have a great future."
Yes, Eames had a way of restoring her confidence and making her feel better.
By the time Bobby had come back to work, she and Eames had spent many hours working together and almost as many chatting over coffee, or beer and pizza, while she learned the intricacies of working with Det. Robert Goren – what he needed, expected and wanted in and from a partner.
And it was after one particularly long night of talking, sharing secrets and truths that they probably never would have revealed had it not been for the liquor and loneliness, that they had made their pact.
xxxxx
She had arrived at 1PP and felt a little more comfortable, having noticed a few familiar faces in the lobby and elevator. It was a long ride to the 11th floor, as the car made frequent stops.
She walked through the Squad Room, saying good morning to those who acknowledged her. Were they really giving her a pitiful look that said, "So, you're stuck with him now. Good luck," or was that just her imagination. She was supposed to report to Capt. Deakins at 8:00 a.m. – she had 5 minutes to spare. She passed by Alex's desk. It was untouched –but her Santa mug was now on Bobby's side and she quickly wondered if he had actually "won it back" in their last wager, or if he had just claimed it now, as his own, for safekeeping.
As she approached Deakins' office, she could see the large figure seated in the chair in front of the Captain's desk. She mentally braced herself for the "welcome" she might receive.
Deakins caught a glimpse of her as she reached the open doorway and knocked softly. He stood, facing her.
"Come in, Detective. Welcome back."
"Thank you, Captain."
Goren rose from his chair.
"Bishop."
"Goren," she nodded, acknowledging him.
Bobby, holding his leather portfolio, walked by her, heading for the door. "I'll get right on this, Captain."
Deakins gave her a knowing look. "You'll be fine," he said, with a half smile. "Just give 'im time."
"I will, Sir."
Deakins handed her a manila envelope, full of various employment, insurance and tax forms that required her signature.
"Sign 'em all and get 'em down to Personnel by the end of the day, okay."
She nodded.
"Okay, then, I guess you can get to work."
"Yes, Sir."
She walked tentatively towards the shared Goren/Eames connected desk and, with great relief, spotted the vacant desk on the other side of the aisle, directly behind Bobby.
He had been waiting for her, to see what she would do.
She set the envelope and her belongings down on the vacant desk and announced, "I guess I'll get settled in here," as she wondered to herself when, if ever, the invitation would come to use Alex's old desk.
"Good move," Bobby thought to himself.
Bobby continued reading the file before him, but paused for a second; turning his head slightly over his shoulder, he commented, "You cut your hair short."
"Yeah, it's easier," she said, self-consciously brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"And you're not wearing high heels," he continued. "Another good move," he thought to himself.
She chuckled, "I learned my lesson the last time."
xxxxxxxx
And so began Detective Lyn Bishop's first day on her new/old job. She was prepared to do whatever it took to be Detective Robert Goren's partner.
Detective Alexandra Eames had gone to her grave keeping Lyn Bishop's secret. Detective Lyn Bishop would now spend the rest of her days, dedicated to fulfilling her promise to her mentor.
End. Chpt. 1
