A/N: Writing this chapter gave me serious deja vu, but I couldn't figure out if I've written something like this before or if it's just been circling my head so long that I got used to it. So, uh...if anyone notices a similarity between this scene and one of my other stories, please tell me so I can change it and avoid looking like even more of an idiot...
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She was up, dressed, and drinking her coffee the next morning before she realized that it was her scheduled day off. Twelve hours ago, she'd been hoping to spend today in bed with Bobby, she thought as she stripped off the suit she'd donned only minutes earlier. Too bad there wasn't a chance in hell of that happening now. She poured the rest of her coffee down the drain and headed back to bed.
She'd didn't plan to drag her ass out of bed again until tomorrow morning unless the building caught fire. Maybe not even then.
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Bobby had slapped the snooze button on his alarm twice before he remembered that he didn't need to get up anyway. Today was his and Alex's day off.
Not that they'd be spending it together, after last night's farce. He couldn't decide whether he was angry because she'd lied to him or depressed because he'd ruined a promising relationship because of what he knew was essentially his own insecurity.
He turned his head to look at his phone. Alex was probably up by now, but the phone hadn't rung. She wasn't going to call, he told himself; he'd rejected not only her affection but her integrity.
He'd be lucky if she ever spoke to him again outside of work.
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Mike Logan was experiencing a feeling he thought he'd banished from his life years ago: guilt over having damaged someone else's life. He'd intended the chocolates to be a friendly prank; he knew she loved chocolate, and he knew that Goren would be insatiably curious about who besides him was lusting after Alex.
What he had not expected was to find Goren already in Alex's apartment, obviously either acting on that lust or about to do so.
Goren had never been overtly antagonistic to him, but it was common knowledge in the Major Case squad room that Bobby Goren was protective of his partner. The general feeling was that Goren knew how important she was to his success, and thus had no intention of having her hurt or driven away; however, Mike now knew, better than he wanted to, that there was more to it.
And that was dangerous to him. Dangerous because Goren could easily make Logan's position in Major Case unbearable. Could probably make Logan's position disappear completely, if he decided to wield the power he didn't seem to know he had. Also dangerous because Goren was a strong influence on Alex and could try equally hard to rob Logan of her friendship, which he was really beginning to enjoy.
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She was lying in bed with her head buried in the pillow, wondering why she couldn't get back to sleep, when her phone rang. She turned over and glared at it, fighting the urge to unplug it and launch it across the room. It kept ringing, though, and finally she snatched up the receiver. "Eames."
"Alex, hi."
She shot up to a sitting position. "You've got a goddamn lot of nerve calling me after last night, Logan."
He swallowed. "Yeah, well, about that . . . I didn't know he was there with you. If I had, I would have dropped it on your desk anonymously today or something."
"Fat lot of good that does me now."
He sighed. "I know. Honestly, I'm sorry. But . . . I'm calling with good news," he said hopefully.
If she hadn't already been suspicious, she was now. "Oh? And and what's that?"
"Your lab report came in. Want to hear what they found?"
"Yes!" she nearly shouted, momentarily forgetting her desire to murder him.
He chuckled. "I thought so. I'll skip past the mass spec stuff and the Greek symbols. Let's see . . ." She could hear him flipping pages. "Here we go. 'Findings'," he read. "Number one: 'Traces of coffee bean dust, Sumatran blend.' Number two, 'A quantity of epithelials. All sequenceable cells had genetic fingerprints that matched James Li's.' Bummer on that one," he opined. "Number three: 'Dehydrated flecks of carrot.' Who the hell puts carrot in a coffee grinder, anyway?"
"No idea," she said impatiently. "Is that it?"
"Nope, one more. Does the chemical formula 'C(31)H(23)BrO(3)' mean anything to you?"
"Not a thing. What is it?"
"Don't know. It says to turn to the attached sheet. Hold on . . . ok, how about, uh, 'bromo-biphenyl-tetra-hydro-napthalenyl-hydroxy-benzopyran'?"
"Is that English? You're talking to me, Mike, not my genius partner. They must have put it in a readable form somewhere."
"Yeah, I'm looking. Ok, bottom of the page. How about 'brodifacoum'?"
She almost dropped the phone. "Are you sure that's what it says? Brodifacoum?"
"Pretty sure. But considering it sounds to me like it should be the name of a disease, you might not want to go by what I say."
"Good plan."
"Look, it's almost lunchtime. Why don't I take my hour and bring you the report and some takeout?"
She sighed. "Can I get the report without getting stuck with you?"
"Nope. Either you take the deal or you're gonna have to drag your butt down to One PP to get the report."
"Oh, for god's sake!"
"Take it or leave it, Alex."
"Fine. I'll take it, but don't expect me to be a charming companion."
"Understood. I'll see you in about half an hour."
"Sure. Bye." She hung up, not caring if he had more to say, and groaned loudly. "All I want is one day - one stinking day - to laze around in bed and feel sorry for myself. Why am I cursed?" she ranted to her empty apartment. "Ugh, now I have to find clothes."
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When the knock sounded on her door forty minutes later, she shoved her feet into a pair of slippers and reluctantly walked to the door to let him in.
Logan stared at her for a second before saying, "What the hell are you wearing?"
"They're called pajamas," she said, looking down at her old shorts and t-shirt. "I decided you don't merit me actually getting cleaned up."
"Whatever you say." He handed her two Chinese take-out cartons. "Lunch, madam."
"Ok," she sighed, stepping back. "Come in."
He did, stepping past her and into her apartment. "Nice place."
"The dent in the front door's your fault," she said shortly, snatching the lab report from his hand.
He glanced at the door, verifying that there was, indeed, a crescent-shaped indentation in it. "I've never even been here before. How can it be my fault?"
"I threw a shoe at the door when Bobby stormed out last night after you made your appearance."
"Feisty little thing, aren't you."
"Bite me. I've got the food and the report; you can stay or go, I don't care."
"Like I told you on the phone," he said, following her to the couch, "it's my lunch hour. You're stuck with me."
"Oh, joy." She opened one of the cartons and found fried rice. "What did you bring?"
"Beef with broccoli," he said, pointing to the one she hadn't opened, "and the fried rice you're holding."
"How'd you know I like those?" she said suspiciously.
"They're pretty generic choices. I don't know many people who won't eat one or the other." He grabbed a plastic fork and reached for the beef with broccoli. "So tell me about your case."
"Ah, the one thing in my life that seems to be going ok. What do you already know?" She paused to fork some rice into her mouth.
"I know you've got a dead college professor and a student who looks guilty. Beyond that, I'm pretty much in the dark."
"Hmm." She swallowed the rice. "Well, the COD was a fun one - he was fed rat poison, which apparently causes uncontrollable bleeding. Whoever it was didn't seem to think that was enough, though, because then they spent what must have been hours making cuts all over his body."
He grabbed for a wayward piece of broccoli just before it rolled off the table. "What for?"
"The poison kept the blood from clotting, so the cuts just kept bleeding until there was no blood left. The scene looked like a slaughterhouse."
"Ooh, pleasant."
She snorted. "Right, 'pleasant.' Exactly the word I would have used. Anyway, we asked around at the school and went through some records and found out that this one student, Andrew Kim, has been lying to everyone about his grades and - we think - his relationship to the vic."
"Relationship like they were gay?"
"Nah, a crime of passion would be too easy. It's more like they seemed to be rivals."
"Ok, gotcha. Go on."
She held up a finger, telling him to wait, while she ate a bite of the beef. "Then the kid's ex-girlfriend, who he happened to share an office with, got attacked in their office. The perp knocked her out and tore up her side of the room, but just politely rifled through his side."
He let out a low whistle. "Is she ok?"
"Yeah," she said with a nod. "No concussion, and she seems pretty resilient, psychologically. Nice kid."
"She give you anything useful?"
"All she could tell me was that judging by the size of the shadow she saw, she thought it was a guy who hit her."
"Useless," he said, shrugging. "Pass the rice."
She slid the carton over to him. "Yeah, pretty useless. But we brought the boy in for questioning yesterday and he is definitely hiding something. We've been trying to place him at the scene, and while I was in with the suspect, Bobby had one of his epiphanies. He got the kid to decipher an acronym in the vic's date book, without telling him the date it was written on. The kid identified it as saying that the vic had an appointment with him. What he didn't realize was that it was penciled in for the night the poison was administered."
"Did he crack?"
"No, unfortunately. But we think we've got enough to get a warrant for his place, especially now that we have these lab results. We may be able to find remnants of the poison or -"
She was cut off by the sound of her buzzer. "Oh, come on! I swear, I've had more people buzz me in the last two days than in the whole two months before that." She stood up with a sigh, saying over her shoulder, "Leave some food for me."
She checked the peephole. "Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me!"
"What's wrong?" he asked, putting down the carton he'd been holding as he realized that she sounded genuinely alarmed.
"Take a guess at who's behind door number one."
He only knew of one person who she'd be this pissed to see. "Goren?"
"Yep," she said with mocking cheerfulness. "You know what? I think you should answer the door and get rid of him."
"No way. It's your apartment, why would I answer the door?"
"Because, Logan, I don't want to deal with him, and considering what you did last night, you owe me." She walked back to the table, motioning him toward the door. "Go. I won't let him hurt you."
He scoffed as he stood up. "I'm not worried about him hurting me." All the same, he walked to the door as slowly as possible and hesitated for a long second. Then, putting on his toughest expression, he opened the door. "Yeah?"
In any other situation, he'd have laughed at how Goren's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "Where's Eames?" he said roughly when he recovered from the shock.
"She's inside," Logan said impassively. "Where did you think she'd be?"
"Let me in." Goren tried to walk past him, but Logan planted one hand firmly on the doorframe and held him back.
"How 'bout you tell me what you want, first."
Bobby gritted his teeth and tried to keep his cool. "Look, I don't know what you're doing here. For the moment, I don't care. I need to talk to her."
Logan glanced over his shoulder at where she sat, noticing that she'd paled a little in the past minute. He knew that the tension between the partners was at least partly of his own making, but all the same, he didn't think he quite trusted Goren to not pick a fight with the poor girl once he got into the apartment. "I don't think she particularly wants to talk to you, sorry."
"Ok, because you can read her mind?"
"No," Logan said firmly. "Because she told me so."
"You son of a bitch." Goren was teetering on the very limits of his self-control and he knew it. "Let me in," he growled.
Logan opened his mouth to refuse again, but closed it when her voice came from behind him: "Let him in, Mike. He won't ever leave otherwise."
Glaring at the other man, Logan opened the door wider and removed his arm from the doorframe. "After you," he said mockingly.
Goren stalked past him and straight to where Eames was sitting cross-legged on the floor. "What's he doing here?"
She raised her eyebrows and said calmly, "Eating lunch. You couldn't tell from the food all over the table?"
"Why?"
"Why not?" she said, knowing it would piss him off. "It's not like I had other company lined up."
She was right; she hadn't had any other company lined up. And he knew whose fault that was, he reminded himself: his own. But that didn't change the very strong desire he had to slug the guy who'd replaced him today. "You said last night that . . ." He glanced over his shoulder at Logan, who was standing a few feet away and watching suspiciously. Lowering his voice so only she could hear, he finished, "You said he wasn't 'competition'."
"He's not. But hey, you didn't believe me then, so why believe me now?"
"I didn't say I didn't bel-"
" 'I'm not sure I believe that, Alex'," she quoted. "Sure sounded like it to me."
"Look, would you just . . . get rid of him so we can talk?"
"Screw you," she said hotly, turning her back to him. "It's my day off and I want to relax. Dealing with you is not my idea of relaxation. At least Logan can converse without accusing me of every sexual indiscretion in the book."
"I never . . .!"
"Leave, Bobby. Now."
Logan watched them closely, more concerned than he had been a few minutes ago. He didn't think Goren was the type to actually harm a woman . . . but he didn't really know the guy that well and, frankly, he preferred to play it safe and stay close.
"No," Goren said, crossing his arms and glaring at Alex, then Logan. "Not unless he goes too."
"Jesus Christ, Goren, you don't own me! You don't get to say who stays and who goes. I do, and I say that you're the one who's going to be leaving. As in, now."
She had to listen to him, Goren thought, panicked. He had to explain all this to her, and tell her . . . "Alex," he said pleadingly, taking a step toward her.
"Whoa, now," Logan said, quickly planting himself between the two. "I believe she asked you to leave."
"Move," Goren ordered distractedly.
"Sorry, man; not happening. She doesn't want you here, so go."
Alex watched in horror as one of her worst nightmares exploded into reality: Bobby let out a growl and took a swing at Logan, who barely managed to block the punch.
"Hey!" Alex shouted, no longer caring who was in the wrong. "Both of you, stop!"
The testosterone levels in the room were almost palpable, though, and the two men began to circle warily.
"Ok," she tried again, louder. "Knock it off!"
They ignored her.
Obviously neither of them was going to be helpful, so she took the matter into her own hands. She walked across the room and jerked open the apartment door, then walked back to the men just as Bobby landed a punch to Logan's solar plexus. Now truly furious herself, she placed herself between them, facing Goren. "Logan, leave," she ordered, not moving her eyes from her partner's face.
"Are you fucking nuts?" Logan exclaimed as he regained his breath. "I'm not leaving you with him!"
Goren lunged for him, and it took all of Alex's strength to plant her feet and hold him back. "Stop it! Both of you! Mike, go. I can handle him, but he's not going to calm down until you leave."
"Alex . . ."
"Go, please. I can take care of myself," she said, giving Goren a hard shove.
Logan was quiet for a second, watching them. "Ok, if you think it will help. But I'm warning you, Goren - I see one mark on her tomorrow and I'm coming after you."
"Oh, big man," Goren taunted.
"Mike!" she pleaded.
Logan went, reminding himself that Alex knew how to defend herself. And he just might strip-search her tomorrow to check for bruises; he would rather enjoy kicking the shit out of her partner if he saw any.
Alex and Bobby were both still until the door shut behind him. Then she took a giant step forward and, staring up into his face, yelled, "What the hell are you doing?"
Bobby, still breathing hard, looked down at her blankly.
"Answer me!" she demanded, giving him another push. "What could possibly be going through your head that it seems like a good idea to punch a guy because you find him having lunch with me?"
He blinked slowly and tried to focus his eyes on her as the rage began to recede. "I . . ."
"Come here," she hissed, yanking him toward the couch. "Sit."
He sat.
She reached out and started unbuttoning his shirt, noting with disgust that her fingers were shaking.
"What . . . what are you doing?" Bobby asked, stunned by her actions.
"Shut up. I'm going to make sure you didn't get yourself hurt," she said. "And then I'm going to kill you myself."
Adrenaline highs were not conducive to coherent thought, and he could only stare at her as she undid the rest of his shirt and yanked it off him, roughly shoving him to one side and then the other as she checked for bruises. "Uh, Alex . . ."
"Shut up!" She stood up, glaring down at him as he sat on the couch. "What the hell is wrong with you? I've never seen you throw a punch at anyone, ever. Even at the most disgusting suspects we've had to deal with."
"Alex, I . . ."
"You want to know why he was here?" she said fiercely. "He was here because he brought me our goddamn lab report, since he knew I'd want to see it even though it was my day off. He was doing me a favor, Bobby. Not . . . seducing me or whatever the hell you thought he was doing."
"But . . ."
"You want to know what else he was doing? He was apologizing for last night! He thought it would be a fun joke to make it look like I had a secret admirer. He had no idea you were here, and he had no idea you were going to pitch a fit. So he brought me lunch as an apology for screwing up." Suddenly more tired than she'd felt in a long time, she shut her mouth and shoved her hair out of her eyes, then said much more quietly, "When was the last time you apologized for screwing up?"
"I . . . he . . ." He couldn't seem to find an answer to give her.
She shook her head sadly. "Never mind. Just go home. I'll see you at work tomorrow and we'll pretend none of this ever happened."
"I . . . I don't want to go home," he finally managed. "I came to see you, and-"
"And you've seen me, as well as running off one of the few friends I have in the Department. Good work, Goren. Now go home." She wasn't sure if she would prefer to punch him or to cry on his shoulder, but either way, she wasn't going to let herself. When Bobby continued to sit, just staring up at her, she gave up. "I'm going back to bed. When I wake up, you'd better be gone."
Not giving him a chance to argue, she turned her back on him and disappeared into her bedroom.
Goren flinched when he heard the soft click of the door locking behind her.