There was a man sitting at her desk. If he hadn't exuded the essence of detective, she have been pissed. He was of average build, maybe a little better than average looks, even with his receding hairline, but the ingrained scowl on his face made him instantly unlikable. She couldn't imagine him having smiled in the last year. He was staring across the room, one hand resting on a closed file folder. It had better not be one of hers. Next to him stood a somber looking woman, dark hair, pretty, taller than herself, with large, alert eyes. It was she who noticed Alex and Sledge first.
"Olivia Benson," the woman said, walking forward to meet them. She shook hands with Alex first. "This is my partner, Elliot Stabler." Alex started to make introductions, like she always did, but Sledge spoke first, just another reminder of what she was missing.
"Pleasure to meet you," Sledge said with the grace of much ass-kissing. "This is Alexandra Eames. I'm Edward Sledge." After everyone had finished with the requisite hand-shaking, Sledge asked, "So, how can we help you?" The man, Stabler, looked right at her.
"Where's your regular partner; Detective Goren?" he asked. She bristled slightly. Bobby usually didn't need protecting; few dared to tangle with the giant of a man, but she had the feeling that Stabler would, and enjoy it.
"He's under the weather," she replied. "Why? What is this about?" Benson shot her partner a look, somewhere between 'knock it off' and 'be nice', and reached for the file he was holding.
"Two women were raped last night, three including your vic. They didn't know each other, they've never spoken, each doesn't even know the other exists." Alex nodded impatiently. She got the point. "We had each work with a different sketch artist. This is what we got." She handed Alex the folder. Alex fought the sudden urge to drop the file and walk away. She opened it.
Only her years as Bobby's partner, all the games and roles she had played, kept the gasp tucked quietly inside. The sketch was of Bobby. A few details were off, of course; the face was a hair too thin, the mouth a little too wide, but it was Bobby - except for the eyes. The eyes were all wrong. Even photographs couldn't do justice to his dark, intense, brooding eyes, the quick little glances, the smiles that never touched his lips, but the eyes of this sketch were just wrong. His soulful, intelligent eyes looked empty, crazed, agonized - The image of him in his apartment, the pain he shared, or couldn't hide, stabbed through her.
She pulled out the second sketch, knowing she'd looked at the first too long. You didn't linger if you didn't recognize. The second picture was drawn by a different hand. The lines were softer, the strokes shorter, but it was as if both artists had drawn from the same inspiration. Alex closed the folder and presented an empty face to Benson.
"What is it you're trying say?" she said, watching a parade of thoughts and emotions crawl through the taller woman's eyes. Benson had issues with rapists.
"Where was Detective Goren last night?" Stabler demanded, stepping half around his partner.
"You have got to be joking," Alex said, crossing her arms over her chest. She glanced around. Luckily, it was early afternoon and the room was nearly empty, and those few who remained were at least pretending to mind their own business. "Robert Goren would never -"
"Never say never, Eames." They all spun around. Bobby stood a few desks away, his head tilted sideways, looking at the ground. He'd put shoes on, straightened his shirt and tried to brush his hair. Alex hadn't realized she'd taken a step toward him until Sledge put a hand on her arm, stopping her. "After seeing you -" Bobby glanced at her. "-I knew what I had to do. I can't risk... hurting anyone... anyone else."
"Bobby..." Alex whispered, but Stabler pushed past her, stepping right up to the taller man.
"You admit it," he hissed. "You raped those women." Bobby started to turn away, his 'pace and think' maneuver, but Stabler misread it as evasion. He grabbed Bobby by the upper arm to turn him back around. Bobby shook him off. Stabler raised his fists, whether to block an attack or lash out, nobody waited long enough to find out. Sledge and Benson pulled Stabler back and Alex stepped between them and Bobby. Stabler didn't fight them, raising his hands in surrender, and Sledge let go. Benson kept one hand in the middle of his chest. Partner knows best, Alex thought as she turned toward Bobby.
He had moved away from her again, circling around the island of their desks to examine the sketches of himself. He was deep in thought, his brow furrowed as she came up beside him and reached across his arm to close the file. Her hand brushed his, and she gasped.
She wanted him. She wanted to rip the buttons off his shirt and throw him down onto their desks. She wanted to drag her fingernails down his back and feel his smooth, firm flesh in her mouth -
Alex stumbled back and kicked a small metal garbage can, the hollow, off-key peal bringing her back to her senses and drawing every eye in the room. She needed to sit, sit until her heart stopped pounding and her knees stopped trembling. What had happened? She glanced up at Bobby, who was staring at her with those frightened, haunted eyes.
"Eames, are you all right? Eames?" Sledge was talking to her. He'd bent over so that his face was just a foot from hers. Now, if there was ever a face to lust after, that was it. Hesitantly, Alex reached out and touched his hand, steeling herself for whatever insanity had seized her before. Sledge cocked an eyebrow at her touch, but nothing else passed between them. "What's going on?" he asked. She let her hand drop back to her side.
"I -" She felt her ears growing hot. How could she explain? It was too embarrassing to even think about. "I'm not sure." She turned to the only other woman in the room. "Detective Benson, could I have a word with you, please." The delirium had passed and Alex was again returning to her crisp, analytical mind. She and Benson retreated a fair distance, but kept an eye on the three men, who stood silently in their own thoughts. "Tell me, do you think your partner is attractive?" Benson looked flustered.
"Well, I suppose," she stammered, "he is handsome."
"Are you attracted to him?"
"No," Benson answered, almost too quickly, "he's my partner." If this had been an interrogation, Alex would have accused her of lying. But it wasn't, so it didn't matter.
"What about my partner?"
"Detective Sledge? He's gorgeous." She narrowed her eyes. "Why?" Alex shook her head, not ready to test her theory quite yet.
"Not Sledge, Goren." Benson opened her mouth, but it took a long time for words to finally come out.
"He's... tall," she said, "and he needs a shave. And he's the primary suspect in three rape cases - What is this all about?" Alex sighed.
"When I accidentally touched his hand a minute ago, I had this - I felt - I can't explain it, but I need to know if it's him, or if I'm just going crazy."
"And what do you expect me to do?"
"Just touch him, Detective Benson," Alex said, "skin to skin contact. Just for a second." Benson looked over at her partner, who was scowling at Bobby. She was going to refuse, Alex could feel it.
"All right, but I want a DNA sample first."
"He didn't rape those women, Detective," Alex said stiffly.
"Then let's prove it," Benson countered. "DNA will rule him out... if he's innocent."
"It's not up to me. You'll have to ask him, and without a court order -"
"We have more than enough evidence to get one."
"Then do it," Alex snapped, her words echoing in the silence. She glanced around. Everyone was watching them again. She couldn't remember when she'd raised her voice. How much had they heard? Bobby took a shuffling, sideways step toward them.
"If it's DNA you want... take it," he said. "I... I want to know the... truth, as well."
"You're tying to tell us you don't know?" Stabler burst out. He laughed. Alex ignored him.
"Bobby, don't you think you should call a lawyer?" she said. He shook his head, speaking in a voice so low she could barely hear him.
"I think it's the schizophrenia, Alex, I think I'm... losing it, losing everything. I remember things I couldn't... couldn't have done, and I... this morning I woke up and I was... I was... I can't remember." He looked at her sharply, suddenly. "I don't want to hurt anyone else." She looked in his eyes, and was terrified, not of him, not of anything he might do, but for him, terrified that he might be right, that his brilliant, quirky mind might be turning on him. She started to reach out to him, to comfort him, but stopped her hand inches from his. Until she knew what was going on, she didn't want to risk touching him, risk bringing that madness down upon herself again. Just the memory of that uncontrollable lust made her cheeks burn.
They both jumped as the shrill cry of a cell phone split the silence.
"Benson," the detective answered. Her large eyes widened slightly and she looked over at Bobby. "Yes, he's right here. Yes. No. Thanks, John, we'll be right down." She hung up and turned to her partner. "We've got another victim; Detective Goren's downstairs neighbor. She's identified him a her attacker." Alex could do nothing as Stabler stepped forward, cuffs in hand.
"Robert Goren, you're under arrest. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." Alex shot a pointed look at Benson. Not only did she not want the obviously hostile Stabler slapping cuffs on her partner, but this would be the perfect opportunity to test her theory. Benson gave an almost imperceptible nod and stepped forward, taking the handcuffs from her partner. He finished with the Miranda Rights and stood by protectively while Benson stepped behind Bobby.
Bobby stood as still as a Central Park statue, his eyes cast down, his thoughts buried so deep even Alex couldn't read his face. Benson grabbed his wrist - and went rigid.
The attack lasted only a second, and then she jerked back, dropping the cuffs with a clatter. Her face and neck flushed a deep rose and she quickly bent down to retrieve the dropped handcuffs.
"What happened?" Stabler demanded, eyeing Bobby as if it had been his fault. Benson straightened up, absently brushing her hair back from her face as she handed Stabler his cuffs.
"You do it," she said. "I have to have a word with Eames." Alex didn't want to leave her partner's side, but she let Benson guide her across the room. "Is that what you expected to happen?" she hissed. "You could have warned me."
"I wasn't sure what was going to happen," Alex said. "For all I knew, it was in my head." She ran a hand wearily over her face. "So, tell me what you felt." Benson's face took on a hint of that rose blush again. "That bad, huh? Me too."
"I've never wanted a man that badly before," Benson whispered, even though there was no one within fifteen feet to overhear them. "If that moment had lasted any longer, I don't know what I would have done."
"I'd have done him, right there on the desks," Alex confessed. She and Benson - no, Olivia - exchanged embarrassed looks, then small smiles, but something dark and ominous nagged at her. "What could cause this?" she asked. "What could make us lust after him with only a fleeting touch? And what is it doing to him?"
Disclaimer - Law and Order: CI and SVU, and the characters protrayed therin, are the property of Dick Wolf and Assoc., but Detective Sledge is all mine, Mwa ha ha ha! Er, ahem ... please don't sue.