1A/N: The usual disclaimers, but Dr. Vincent Rizzo is mine. Thanks to the readers and, especially, the reviewers: Justawritier, lally1743, bammi1, 08ClassicRockChicky08, Sw33tangelgrl, Lina-Baggins and Strawberry-ksc. Your kind and encouraging words are greatly appreciated. I'm glad you enjoyed it! I hope you enjoy this, as well.
Partners, Old and New
Bishop settled into her surroundings. It hadn't taken long to stock and organize her desk with the usual office supplies. Bobby hadn't spoken to her yet about any pending cases and she wasn't sure if she should feel slighted at being ignored, or appreciative that he was giving her time to get adjusted to her new surroundings. She stood, glanced over at his desk and made her way to the coffee pots, pouring a cup for Bobby and herself.
"Here ya' go," she smiled, as she placed the cup on his desk.
"Th-thanks," he practically mumbled, distracted from his reading.
Bishop was still standing next to his shoulder; she sipped her coffee while trying to catch a glimpse of the file he was reading.
"You don't have to do that," Bobby said, making Bishop step back a couple of inches.
"Sorry." She felt awkward.
"No, I meant serve me coffee, y-you're welcome to read it," he said, as he handed her the file folder.
"Oh, that's okay – I was getting myself some, anyway and saw you were out. Thanks" She took the file and returned to her desk."
xxxxxx
The remainder of the week went much the same. Paperwork, investigating, phone calls, meetings with Deakins and Carver, accompanying Bobby to Court one day, when he had to testify. Bobby had worked later than she had, every night except Wednesday. She wondered if he had had plans but, of course, wouldn't ask. She kept her behavior professional and polite and, by week's end, Bobby had once asked for her input on something and had picked up the tab for their deli lunch on Friday. (That would become his custom and Lyn wondered if it was some type of overture on his part to say "thank you" for staying another week).
The following days and the weeks flew by. Before she knew it, she was flipping the page on her calendar to a new month.
This time around, Bishop had a new take on being Goren's partner. She knew she was there for the long haul. She had to make it work, not just because it was truly the career path she dreamed of, but to keep her word to Alex, and now armed with the better insight imparted on her by Alex, she felt she had a better hand to play – never the "upper hand" on Goren, but a better hand.
But Bobby, too, was different this time around. She could see his sadness, especially on those occasions when she'd catch a glimpse of him lost in thought, staring at Alex's empty desk. She had seen a similar look – the day he threw that wadded up paper at her desk, but that time, there were hints of anger and frustration on his face. This was just sadness– a look of being lost. He had even slipped one day, swiveling his chair around and handing her a file, "Eames, take a look at this," he had excitedly said out of habit, but he immediately apologized and seemed embarrassed. All Bishop had said back was, "It's okay."
She was sometimes so tempted to just tell Bobby everything about the "How to Handle Bobby Goren for Dummies" crash course that Alex had drilled her through; about how Alex had told her all the stories about Nicole Wallace and John Tagman...even about Nelda...and Bobby's mother and childhood. Bishop thought it would help Bobby to know that she knew and understood all these things and still asked to take the job as his partner. Wouldn't that mean something to him? But, that would be a betrayal of her agreement with Alex, "So, Bishop," she said to herself, "You're just gonna' have to prove it the hard way."
She spent her weekends catching up on housework and laundry, shopping and reading– one of her favorite pastimes, but this weekend, she decided to visit the cemetery to see if Alex's headstone was in place and to talk to her and fill her in on how things were going. She had approached the plot and saw that the headstone was, indeed, there (as was another fresh bouquet of flowers) and began reading, silently, "... irreplaceable partner." The words resonated in her head. Obviously, the family had given Goren a say on the matter. Her heart broke a little for him while, simultaneously, a feeling of inadequacy overtook her. Then she looked to the left, her breath almost taken away from being startled. "Robert O. Goren..." she read with a whisper. "I should've seen that coming."
She once again sat on the cool grass and told Alex about the events of the past month. After twenty minutes or so, she got up and followed the path back to the main road, still lost in thought; so distracted, in fact, that she didn't see the tall figure watching from the black SUV parked on the roadside.
xxxxxxx
Upon arriving at work on Monday morning, they greeted each other with the usual, "G'morning, how was your weekend?" followed by the usual replies, "Okay, nothing special," or "Too fast, I can't believe it's Monday again." Neither of them mentioned their cemetery visits, although it was still very much on Bobby's mind. The week was progressing as usual, except on Wednesday, Bobby received a call on his cell phone in the midst of their meeting with Deakins, and excused himself, wandering over to the hallway for privacy. The call had taken less than a minute and upon his return to Deakins' office, the Captain questioned, "Anything up?" Bobby merely shook his head "no" and said "it was a personal call – sorry." It roused Lyn's curiosity.
xxxxxx
Bobby was running late –he hated the added traffic of "matinee Wednesday." DP's was an out-of-the-way, hole-in-the-wall bar/restaurant, far enough away from 1PP to avoid the risk of bumping into someone familiar. It was dark and private – the perfect place not to be seen in. Bobby arrived more than twenty minutes late. Once his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he spotted Vince Rizzo at the bar.
"Vince," he said as he approached, "Sorry I'm late."
"That's okay. I was a few minutes late, myself." He held up his half-empty glass of bourbon and water and let out a sigh, "I needed this today." Bobby watched as Rizzo downed the rest.
The bartender approached and Bobby ordered a scotch and soda for himself and ordered a second round for Vince. Once their drinks were served, they found a booth far in the back and settled in.
"So, how's it going?" Rizzo asked.
"Okay," Bobby said, taking a sip of his drink.
Rizzo let out a chuckle, drawing a look from Bobby.
"That was the least convincing 'okay' I've ever heard."
Now it was Bobby's turn to laugh. He should've known better.
After the waiter took their dinner orders, they continued talking about how Bobby was really feeling. Rizzo questioned him on even the most minute details of Bobby's daily activities. It helped Bobby just to talk and, truthfully, he was surprised at how closely Rizzo had been paying attention, especially when he asked:
"So, Bobby, you said that you turned your chair around when you went to talk to your partner...the time you called her 'Eames' by mistake."
"Yeah," Bobby said, with a "so what" expression on his face which Rizzo read with no effort.
"You tell me," Rizzo dryly answered.
"I-I'm not fol-following you," Bobby answered.
"I think you are, Bobby," Rizzo dryly said. "You stammered when you answered me... because you wanna' avoid the subject. "
Bobby cut his steak, avoiding Rizzo's comment and his eyes. He took the bite of steak from his fork and chewed longer than he needed to – a passive-aggressive control maneuver, to keep Rizzo waiting.
"It's okay Bobby. I'm not going to force you to talk about something that you don't want to. You know that's not the purpose of our get-togethers," he said, while dipping a french fry in ketchup.
"I'm just, I'm not ready," Bobby said, eyes downcast.
Rizzo put his utensils down, giving Bobby his undivided attention. Can I just tell you something?"
Bobby saw the true care in his eyes. "Sure," he nodded, as he placed his fork down and took of sip of Coke.
"I've treated many people over the years, Bobby, and noticed a common occurrence when dealing with the bereaved. People tend to hold on to tangible things, mementos that remind them of their loved ones. They leave clothes hanging in closets, they leave bedrooms untouched– sometimes even for years, as if they're keeping some sort of memorial. My job, in helping them go forward with their lives is to help them realize that these things aren't necessary in order to remember someone they love. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying not to keep photographs or a precious memento here and there around the house; I'm just saying that the best way to honor someone is to keep them alive in your memory and in your heart." He took a sip of his drink.
"Of course I remember her," Bobby said softly, "every day...hell, every hour of every day."
"I know you do," Rizzo answered. "So, letting someone sit at her desk wouldn't diminish your memories or love for her, would it?"
"No."
"This woman, Detective Bishop; you told me she was one of the detectives who helped find and capture Alex's killer."
"Yes," Bobby sighed.
"You must feel you owe her a debt of gratitude. And now she's your new partner – she wasn't forced into it; she actually applied for the position and chose to work alongside you?"
"Yes," Bobby nodded.
"You were partnered with her, temporarily, a while back and now she's returned to you."
"Yes."
"Don't you think it would be nice for you to look up from your desk and see a partner sitting there – knowing that someone was there for you?"
"I suppose," Bobby half-heartedly agreed.
"Do you realize that your actions, the way you've treated her so far, have probably made her feel–at the very least, unwelcome? I mean, the message you're sending is that she's like some second-class citizen unworthy of even sitting at a desk – a used piece of furniture, just because Alex once sat there?" Rizzo asked calmly.
Bobby protested, "I didn't, I – I only..."
Rizzo cut him off. "I'm not saying you did it intentionally, Bobby. I don't believe you would ever treat another human being like that."
"She hasn't complained."
Rizzo gave him a admonishing scowl at the comment. "All I'm trying to say is that honoring and respecting the dead is fine, as long as it's not done at the expense of disrespecting the living."
Bobby sighed deeply.
"I'm just trying to help you sort out your thoughts, Bobby. You have a real, live flesh and blood person who obviously wants to be your partner. Give yourself a chance. Give her a chance. It's the least she deserves.
Bobby nodded, resigning himself to the next step he knew he had to take. Knowing that it was the right thing to do didn't really make it easier, but he couldn't imagine that he could hurt any more, either.
They finished their meal and spent another half hour or so exchanging small talk over dessert.
Bobby picked up the check. "See ya' next week, back at the regular place?"
"Yep, see ya' then."
The two men exchanged a handshake and brief hug, and went to their respective vehicles; Rizzo was heading home; Bobby was heading back to the office.
xxxxxx
On Thursday morning, Bobby was scheduled to meet with Carver at his office, to go over his testimony for a trial that was coming up the following week. Bishop was scheduled to meet with Deakins for a status conference at 8:30.
Bishop arrived at the office, carrying her coffee and bagel. She walked to her desk to place her things down and froze: it was empty. She felt a twinge of panic in her stomach and wondered, softly out loud, "What the hell?" She spun around, but instantly remembered that Bobby wasn't supposed to be there first thing in the morning. That's when she saw it. Alex's desk, cleaned off and newly, neatly arranged, just the way Bishop had kept her desk. She walked closer to take a better look and spotted the small envelope. She recognized the writing: "Lyn."
She unsealed it and began reading:
"I hope you don't mind I took the liberty of relocating your desk – admittedly to where it should have been on your first day back. I'd like to talk with you sometime – maybe some night after work you'll let me take you to dinner. I'm sorry and I appreciate your patience with me. B."
She took a sheet of paper and wrote a message back to Bobby, folding it neatly and placing it in his top drawer.
She then went to Deakins' office for her scheduled meeting and, once that was finished, passed the rest of the morning catching up on paperwork.
Deakins had peeked through his office's blinds and noticed Bishop at her new desk. He smiled to himself, now more confident that the pairing was going to work.
Bobby returned to the office while Bishop was out to lunch. He had grabbed a sandwich, a Coke and the newspaper on his way back from Carver's office. He sat at his desk and opened to the crossword section, reaching into his drawer for a pen – instead feeling the paper. Curiosity filled his face as he opened it and read:
"Bobby,
Thanks. I'm happy to be back.
Whenever you feel the need to talk, please don't hesitate. Here's my home address and phone number, in case you didn't have them – – and if you show up at my door sometime with a pizza and a six pack, all the better."
Lyn."
xxxxxxxx
Bishop returned from lunch hour and came to her new desk, smiling a "Hello" to Bobby.
He smiled back, "Hi! How's it goin'?"
"Good, how 'bout you?"
"Good, too."
Bobby watched as she unpacked a small tote bag, placing a picture cube and another picture frame on her desk, followed by a Wyle E. Coyote mug/pen holder which she placed in the corner of the desk.
Bobby looked at her, tossing his head in the direction of the mug; "Wyle E. Coyote, huh?"
She smiled, only a little embarrassed. "Yeah, I have a little collection at home."
"Why him?"
Bishop shrugged her shoulders, "I dunno' – I guess because he never gives up."
Bobby nodded, chuckling softly, as he continued watching his new partner claim Alex's old desk as her own. A dash of sadness momentarily swept over him, but was quickly replaced by a sense of relief –bordering on happiness. It appeared that Detective Lyn Bishop was here to stay.
They met later in the afternoon by the coffee pot. Bobby leaned in close, to whisper a private message in Lyn's ear, (his proximity giving her goose bumps), it was the closest he had ever been; it was the softest she had ever heard him speak, "Thanks for not giving up on me."
THE END
