A/N: If any of you have read some of my older stories, you might recognize Alex's outfit. Yes, I have an obsession with that style for some reason...
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He arrived at her apartment at five in the evening, tugging at his tie like an anxious teenager while he waited for her to open the door. He'd seen his partner dressed up before, usually for work events, but she hadn't told him what she was going to wear tonight and he found himself both curious and nervous to find out.
The click of the door latch pulled him out of his reverie. "Hi," she said over her shoulder as she turned to lock the door behind her. "Right on time."
He stared at her back and tried to process her words. It was difficult, given that he was looking, literally, at her back - the skin itself, with hardly any cloth covering it. The tight pants she was wearing didn't help, either. "Uh, hi."
She turned and grinned at him. "Do I look ok? I wasn't sure how formal 'semi-formal' needed to be."
Thankful for the excuse to take a closer look, he took a moment to make a circle around her. Her shot-silk top, which left her back bare except for three ties at the neck, mid-back, and waist, was cut modestly in the front, much like her usual tank tops. A row of embroidered flowers ran along the bottom hem of the shirt, which barely covered the waistband of her matching silk pants, on which he thought he saw a hint of matching embroidery. "You look, uh . . . very nice. I'm impressed."
She rolled her eyes as she followed him out of the building to where he'd parked his car, noticing that he had put his badge in the corner of the windshield so no one would ticket his semi-legal parking job. "You were doing good up until 'I'm impressed,' but I'll assume you meant well. You don't look bad yourself, although I have to say I'm jealous that you didn't have to wear anything more formal than your usual suit."
"Well, I wouldn't look nearly as good as you do in that," he said with a straight face, nodding at her outfit.
"Funny," she said with a snort. "So, do I need to be briefed on what to expect or how you want me to act? Am I playing your girlfriend?"
He paused in pulling away from the curb to stare at her. "Pardon?"
"Well, I'm assuming you don't want people to think you couldn't or wouldn't find anyone to bring except your partner. If that's the case, I expect you'd want me to play up the clinginess and stuff."
"Uh . . ." He hadn't considered that. Not that he particularly cared about what his classmates thought of his love life, but . . .
He glanced over at her, noting again how beautiful she looked. It would be an ego boost to have people think she was his, and they'd never encounter any of these people again. It would be a harmless prank . . .
"Hello?" she said, waving a hand to regain his attention. "It's not a big deal, either way. We've done the 'couple' thing before during investigations."
"Well I . . . wasn't planning on it, but you have a point, and uh, if it's not a problem for you . . ." he stammered.
"Relax, Bobby. It'll be fun, trust me. Besides me, consider what else you've got going for you: you've got a good job, you're in shape, your hair isn't gray, and you're not addicted to drugs or alcohol . . . Trust me when I tell you you're already ahead of three-quarters of the people we're going to see there."
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"Bobby!" a voice squealed before they even entered the ballroom. "Over here!"
Alex raised her eyebrows, watching the expensively-dressed blonde approach. "Is that the 'uh, friend'?"
"Yeah," he managed, wondering again what had possessed him to come to this reunion. "She's, uh . . ."
"Bobby Goren!" the woman interrupted him as she laid a hand on his arm. "I wasn't sure if you'd actually come."
"Hi, Susan." He noticed that she was eyeing Alex curiously. "Alex, this is Susan Alexander. Susan, this is Alex, my . . . uh . . ."
Alex gave him a gentle elbow in the ribs and held out her hand to the other woman. "He's a commitment-phobe," she said with a sigh. "I'm his girlfriend, Alex Eames."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Alex. Bobby didn't mention he was taken when I saw him the other day!"
Amused at the shade of red his face was turning, she simply shrugged. "Like I said, commitment-phobe. But he means well. Right, hon?" she said, looking up into his face with a grin.
"Uh, sure."
"My, how the times have changed. I would never have pegged you as someone who'd be afraid to commit to a girl," Susan said, giving him a pat on the arm and turning to lead them farther into the room "Come on, there's lots of people you need to see."
Alex glanced at him as they followed her. "Not afraid to commit back then, huh? What went wrong?"
He frowned. "Who says I'm afraid to commit now?"
"I says," she mimicked. "You're forgetting that I've been observing you for years."
"That's not tr-"
"Bobby!" They both looked up at Susan, who had come to a halt next to a short man sporting salt-and-pepper hair. "You remember Jimmy Willis, don't you?"
Alex felt him stiffen slightly next to her and realized that however the two men had gotten along back then, they didn't seem to like each other now. Time to turn on the charm. Going on tiptoe, she pulled Bobby's head down slightly so she could whisper in his ear, "Not a friend, huh? Let's blow him away."
He gave her a startled look and smiled, then looked at the other man and inclined his head slightly. "Jimmy."
"Hey, Bobby Goren!" the man said jovially, holding out a hand. He had to tilt his head back to look Goren in the face. "You haven't shrunk at all."
"And you haven't grown," Bobby said neutrally.
There was a moment of awkward silence before Alex rolled her eyes and tugged on his hand. "Bobby, honey, introduce me!"
Willis's eyes moved to her and widened slightly. "Yes, Bobby, introduce us," he said, not looking away from her.
Alex fought the urge to burst out laughing. For someone well into his forties, the man had surprisingly little finesse. She laced her fingers through Bobby's and squeezed, allowing herself a moment of surprise at how his hand completely enveloped hers.
He gave a quick answering squeeze and pulled her forward slightly so she was in front of him. "Jimmy Willis, Alexandra Eames."
The man took her free hand and gave it a caress disguised as a shake. "Your wife?" he asked Bobby without looking at him.
"Not yet," she said with a saccharine smile, taking her hand back. "I'm still working on him."
"Interesting," he said. "So, Bobby, what have you been doing with yourself? I don't remember seeing you at the last reunion."
"I, uh, haven't had a lot of free time," Bobby started hesitantly.
Alex sighed. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised at his reticence - he'd always seemed to dislike talking about himself - but didn't he know that at reunions you were expected to brag? Well, if he wouldn't do it, then the job fell to her. "Oh, I'm sure you've read about him in the papers," she broke in. "The high-profile cases get written up a lot."
"Cases?" Willis said with raised eyebrows.
She slid an arm under his jacket, pinched his side, and kicked his heel.
He jumped, looked down at her, and noted the look of subtle threat her face bore. She was telling him that if he didn't talk, she would, and he might not like what she had to say. He tried to push her arm away as he said, "Criminal cases. I'm with the NYPD, a detective."
"Somehow I'm not surprised. Catch many murderers?" Willis asked, taking note of the other man's attempt to push his date away and deciding he might not go home alone tonight after all.
Alex and Bobby exchanged a look. "A fair number," he finally said.
Willis nodded vaguely and looked back to Alex. "And what about you, Alexandra? What do you do?"
The man's interest in Alex was obvious, and Bobby found himself slipping an arm around her waist protectively rather than continuing to try to push her away. He decided to let her field this question, since they hadn't discussed whether she would lie about her job. His decision turned out to be a good one, because when he realized that his hand at her waist was touching bare skin and his fingertips were under the edge of her top, all thoughts deserted him.
"I work with Bobby, actually," she told the man, her pitch a little too high as she felt his hand spread across her back. "Your garden-variety civil servant."
"Oh, I doubt you're a 'garden-variety' anything," Willis said unctuously.
She gave him a fake smile. "You're sweet. But you know, you haven't told us what you do!" She was amused to find that Bobby's fingers tightened on her when she called the other man sweet, and she looked up and gave him a knowing look before taking his hand in hers and pulling it around to her hip, then using her hand to hold his in place.
Willis watched their interaction with a slight frown. "Oh, I'm an accountant with J.P. Morgan."
He was obviously expecting them to be impressed by the name of the company, but she found him a little too slimy to be impressive. "That's interesting." She looked between the two men. "So, were you guys good friends in school?"
"Uh, not really," Bobby muttered.
"Aw, come on, that was just teenage fun!" Willis said with a wave of his hand. Looking back at Alex, he said, "He was an easy target, everyone picked on him a little."
She mentally downgraded Jimmy Willis from slimy to asshole. "Really?" she said, watching Goren out of the corner of her eye. "You know, I've always found it interesting that Bobby will tolerate people picking away at him rather than hitting back like most men would do. I think it has something to do with how . . . big he is. Nothing to prove, you know?"
Bobby choked.
Willis blinked and looked from her to Goren. "Uh, interesting theory. But hey, Bobby, I'll take this opportunity to apologize to you."
Bobby coughed once more to relieve his choking and looked at the man. "Don't worry about it. Alex may be on to something, here." Looking down at her, he applied pressure to her hip and said, "Let's go get a drink while you tell me more about this theory of yours, honey."
"Sure, sweetie," she said with a grin. "Bye, Jimmy," she added, throwing a casual wave to the man over her her shoulder.
"You're going to get me in trouble tonight, aren't you?" he murmured as they approached the bar.
She grinned. "You asked me to come. And if all your classmates are like that guy, I'm going to have a fun time knocking them all down by the end of the night."
"The 'knocking them down' part is fine, but . . . how 'big' I am?" he said, raising his eyebrows.
"Hey, I wasn't lying. I just let him assume I was referring to something other than your height."
"No kidding," he said with a shake of his head. "What do you want to drink, since I'm buying?"
"Champagne, if they have it," she replied, leaning back against the bar. "Trust me on this, Bobby. I just started one rumor that definitely isn't going to hurt your reputation."
He ignored that and turned to ask the bartender for their drinks. "A scotch and a champagne, please."
"Coming right up," the man said, eyeing the expanse of bare skin the small blonde woman was presenting as she stood with her back to him. "She with you?" he asked the tall man, gesturing to her.
Bobby blinked, looking over at Alex. "Uh, yeah," he said, turning her around and pulling her between him and the bar so that her back was shielded.
"Bobby," she said in annoyance, looking over her shoulder at him. "I was more comfortable the way I was."
"The bartender was ogling you."
"I'd be surprised if he wasn't, considering my outfit," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I don't get many good opportunities to show off and get my ego fed."
He hadn't realized she was aware of the effect she had on men. "Ok," he said after taking a second to regroup, "but if you're supposed to be my girlfriend, then I'm expected to guard you jealously."
She accepted her champagne from the bartender and handed him a dollar she'd produced seemingly out of nowhere. "Thanks." Turning to face Bobby, she smirked up at him. "Somehow I can't see you doing the 'jealous boyfriend' thing. This is going to be a very interesting night . . ."