1A/N:I claim no right, title or financial interest in or to Dick Wolf's fabulous LO:CI characters.
This story is a "pre-quel" to Final Breath. The idea and request for this story came from a faithful reader/reviewer of most (if not all of my other stories), 08ClassicRockChick08...so "TH", as the result of another sleepless night, this one's for you. ;-)
Final Day
Alex felt as if she barely had a weekend off, at all. She'd spent a great portion of her time driving, traveling to Boston to attend a 40th birthday surprise party for her cousin, Laura. By the time she returned home Sunday night, her back was stiff, her eyes were tired and stinging from the headlight glare and her butt was sore from sitting in the car for almost five hours. It took all her effort to sling her weekend bag over her shoulder and ascend the stairs of her third-floor walk up. "Remind me next time to take Amtrak," she groaned to no one but herself, as she unlocked the door to her apartment.
She let the bag slide off her shoulder onto the couch and headed to the fridge to get a cold drink, taking notice of the blinking light of her answering machine. She pressed the button to listen to her messages and poured herself a glass of iced tea.
"Beep...Saturday, 9:35 a.m.: Hi Alex. It's Aunt Dolores. Okay, I guess maybe you've left already but in case you haven't, I'm just calling to remind you about Laura's party tonight. Okay, see you later. Bye."
"Beep...Saturday, 1:14 p.m.: "Hi! This is Jonathan from Direct TV. Are you tired of paying astronomical prices for cable TV? Your phone number has been specially selected..."
She pounced on the "next message" button with a look of disdain on her face, "Sorry Jonathan."
"Beep...Saturday, 9:55 p.m.: "Ummm, Hi...it's me...sorry...I forgot you were goin' away...umm, I guess I'll see ya' Monday...or,or if you get home early enough tomorrow, g-give me a call, okay? Okay...umm, bye."
As tired as she was, the sound of Bobby's voice snapped her to attention. "How did he sound?" she analyzed to herself. "Sad? Disappointed?" She checked her watch, "Aww, it's after 11 already...oh well, I'll see him tomorrow at work."
"Beep...Sunday, 11:20 a.m.: "This is Jessica from the New York Times. Did you know that you can have The New York Times delivered to your door for just pennies a day?"
"Sorry Jessica," she said, again hitting the "next message" button.
"Beep... Sunday, 7:25 p.m.: Umm, Hi...it's just me again. I guess you're not home yet. Okay, bye."
She didn't like the tone of Bobby's voice. She wondered if something important was going on that he wanted or needed to talk to her about. He sounded "down," or bored, or lonely. She couldn't decide which. She thought about how he might have filled his weekend. There were no more trips to Carmel Ridge for him on the weekends– maybe that's what got to him. A pang of guilt struck her; she somehow felt as if she had abandoned (for lack of a better word) him for the past two days. She checked her watch again, "11:38...oh, he's an insomniac – he's probably still awake, anyway, watching The History Channel or something," she tried to convince herself, making it okay to ring his phone at the late hour. The truth was, she had missed him over the weekend, too, and wanted to hear his voice, even if it was only to let him know she had gotten home safely and say "good night." She picked up her cordless phone and hit the "speed dial and "1" buttons.
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Bobby had been dozing on the couch; an empty cereal bowl to his right; his head tilted, resting on his fisted left hand. He had been watching a documentary about the Hindenburg disaster on the History Channel. The shrill ring of the phone jarred him from his semi-consciousness.
"Goren," he managed to say, and immediately tried to stifle a yawn.
"Hey there!"
The sound of Alex's voice instantly brought a sense of happiness and relief upon him.
"I got your messages...sorry, it's kinda' late and I wasn't gonna' call, but..."
He cut her off, mid-sentence, "No, that's all right. I'm, I'm glad you did. I was just sitting here watching The History Channel."
Her accurate prediction brought a smile to her lips.
"So, how was your trip? You have a good time at the party?"
"The party was good...she was really surprised. The trip was long. I just got in about 15 minutes ago."
"Well, I'm glad you had fun...and...and got home safely."
Apparently, there wasn't any earth-shattering news he had to share. He probably had been lonely or bored – or both.
"Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning, then."
Alex was now the one stifling a yawn, "Unfortunately, it'll be here before we know it. I'm heading straight to bed, as soon as we hang up."
"Me too. Umm, g-g'night Eames."
" 'night, Bobby... Hey, Bobby!
"Yeah?"
"Don't forget my raspberry danish and double mocha, okay? I'm gonna' need 'em."
He chuckled, "I won't. See ya' in the morning."
Alex headed to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. She then went straight to bed.
Bobby clicked off the TV and carried his empty bowl to the kitchen sink. He was still thinking of Alex, "Okay...I talked to her...she's home safe...now I can go to bed."
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Alex had just settled into her desk when she saw Bobby approaching, dutifully carrying her breakfast. They smiled at each other when their eyes met.
"Here ya' go! Just baked this morning," he cheerfully said, setting the container of coffee and pastry bag before her.
"Thanks...mmmmmm, smells great," she said, as she carefully removed the lid and took her first sip.
Alex glanced up as Bobby grabbed the stack of folders from his "IN" box. "What, nothing for you?"
He was already reading a lab analysis, delving into his work. "No, I uh...I ate at the coffee shop. I got up a little early this morning."
"That makes one of us," she said, and bit into her danish.
It was a typical Monday, filled with catching up on phone calls, doing paperwork and meeting with Deakins for a status conference. Alex took her turn at picking up lunch from the deli and they ate, too quickly, at their desks. After lunch, things turned hectic. On what they thought was quickly on track to becoming a "cold" case, witnesses came forward and several new leads came in. Alex and Bobby spent the remainder of the day fighting the city traffic, interviewing people and meeting with the M.E., finally returning to One PP at almost 8 p.m. Deakins was just on his way out and approached their desks.
"You two might as well wrap it up for tonight. Carver says we don't stand a chance at getting that Warrant until after we see what ballistics comes up with."
Bobby and Alex nodded affirmatively at the Captain.
"Just as well...I'm beat," Alex sighed.
"And it's only Monday," Deakins sighed.
Bobby looked at Alex, suddenly remembering her late night and tiring drive home.
"G'night, you two," Deakins said, only able to muster up half a smile. He headed for the elevator.
"You look pretty tired. You okay?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah, I'm okay. I wasn't counting on overtime today...I was counting on a bubble bath and being in bed by 9," she laughed. "What about you?"
Bobby's eyebrows raised, "Me? What'd ya' mean?"
"Any plans for tonight?"
"No," he shook his head.
"Why don't ya' come over? We can grab something to eat and catch up," she said, trying to force more 'pep' into her voice.
"I thought you were tired?
She chuckled, "I'm always tired. I just thought that, ya' know, since we didn't spend any time together on the weekend that you might wanna' come over."
Bobby liked the idea. He tried to hide from her just how much it appealed to him. "Okay...if-if you're sure."
"Sure I'm sure," she smiled. "I have to stop at the market, though. I wasn't home to do any grocery shopping this weekend...the fridge is pretty bare."
"Well, why don't we just order something out," Bobby offered, trying to save her the trouble of cooking.
"That's okay, I can cook something easy. I'm just gonna' stop at the little bodega down the corner from my apartment."
"Tell ya' what," Bobby offered, "I'll finish this report to the Captain and run these papers down to forensics. You can get a head start and by the time you get back from the store, I'll probably just be getting to your place."
"Sounds good," Alex replied, grabbing her purse and keys. "See ya' in a bit," she smiled and called over her shoulder as she, too, headed for the elevator.
He smiled as he watched her walk down the hall; her hair and slim hips swaying in unison with her steps. He had missed her on the weekend. They usually did at least speak on the phone over the weekend, if they didn't get together for a movie or Sunday brunch – especially since his mother died. He genuinely enjoyed Alex's company.
Bobby signed off on the report and placed it in a folder, prepared to hand it to Deakins in the morning. He grabbed a stack of papers and headed downstairs to the Forensics Department. He was looking forward to the evening and spending time with Alex. He smiled as he punched the "4" button in the elevator.
It was 8:15 p.m. He could still smile because he had no way of knowing how tragically this routine Monday would end. He had no way of knowing that in less than half an hour, his life would forever be changed. He had no way of knowing that in only days from now, Alex would be taking her final breath.
THE END.
