A/N: Meh. I'm totally ambivalent about this chapter, but I figured I might as well put it up and see if you people like it better than I do
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When Bobby woke up again, he found himself on his back, staring at a dark room. Had they slept through the whole day? He moved to look at the clock but found himself immobilized by a weight that lay across him. Opening his eyes to investigate, he found that the the weight had hair.
Oh, no. This was not good.
Alex mumbled something in her sleep and shifted her head, which lay in the crook of his neck, then flung one of her arms over his shoulder.
He did a mental inventory of their body parts: her head rested between his right shoulder and his neck; his right hand lay entwined with her left on the pillow next to her head; her right arm and leg were thrown across his torso, so that she was lying half on him and half on the bed. Oh, and his left hand was resting on . . .
Oops. He pulled that hand away hastily, moving it up so he could touch her hair instead. Soft, he mused, rubbing a few strands between his fingers.
He shouldn't be doing this, he admonished himself. She was asleep, she had no idea that she was sprawled over him, and she certainly had no idea of the un-partnerly things that were going through his head.
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Alex hid a smile as she felt his hand jerk away and then move to touch her head. He was awake, and he was obviously thinking coherently enough to decide he shouldn't have had his hand on her behind. And yet he wasn't trying to get out from under her, even though he believed her to still be asleep.
Now that was interesting.
This could be fun.
How low were his defenses in the moments just after waking up? She didn't know, but she was about to find out. Keeping her eyes closed and faking sleep as best she could, she sighed and moved her head, which just happened to result in her nuzzling his neck. She felt him tense slightly beneath her, then relax as he seemed to decide that the contact was just by chance.
She shifted her weight, transferring a little more of her body onto his, and waited for a reaction. Within seconds, his hand was removed from her head and placed on her hip, where it applied gentle pressure to push her away. You think you can get rid of me that easy? she thought with a smirk. In your dreams, Goren. She resisted the pressure for a moment, then twitched her hips just enough so that what now lay under his hand was her butt rather than her hip.
The hand froze, then flexed experimentally. She let her lips brush his neck again as a reward and was amused when he sucked in a breath. Gotcha. Now, what else can I . . .
Eyes still closed, she sighed again and slid her head up from his shoulder until her cheek brushed his. His entire body tensed under her, but he still didn't try to push her away, and she wondered just how far he'd let her go before he put a stop to it.
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Bobby lay as still as he could, searching his head madly for a way out of this before things got out of his control. If he'd known she fidgeted so much in her sleep, he might have given serious thought to sleeping on the floor. Anything to avoid waking up to this kind of torture, he thought with gritted teeth as she shifted again and he felt her breath against his lips.
She was almost entirely on top of him, and as her body slid across his again he realized that if she woke up now, he was going to have to explain the biochemistry of more than just fear.
She sighed again and the hand she had on his shoulder drifted up the back of his neck and into his hair. He shivered.
He didn't see Alex smile into his cheek, but he felt the movement of her mouth. She was smiling? That had to mean she was . . . "Eames?"
She didn't move as she said, "What did I tell you about calling me Eames?"
He ignored that, more concerned with how much of behavior she had been conscious of. "How long have you been awake?"
"Long enough."
"How long is, uh, 'long enough'?"
She pulled her hand out of his and used it to prop up her head so she could look down at him. "Long enough to wonder how you're going to talk your way out of this one," she said with a small smile.
"Alex, I already explained to you that . . ."
"That what? It was the panic? It's been hours since that happened, and I feel more relaxed right now than I have in a long time. Or maybe you were going to say it was the drugs? It's been at least six hours since I took a painkiller. Most of it is out of my system. So what's your excuse this time?"
He sighed. "It's not right."
"Oh? Then what are you going to do to stop it?" she challenged, lowering her face closer to his and shifting her body weight slightly on top of him.
"Alex," he said through gritted teeth.
"Hmm?"
"Tell me why all of a sudden you're so eager for this," he said in a rough voice.
She stared at him. "I really don't know how you managed to produce an innocent sentence and make it sound dirty, but you just did."
"Uh, I didn't mean it to be, uh, dirty," he said hastily. "What I meant was that . . . up until a few weeks ago, you never had any interest in, uh, this."
"Well, did you?"
"I . . . well . . ."
"And yet you never threw me up against a wall and made sure I knew it. See, there's this thing called 'restraint' that some people have, wherein they don't spill their guts at the drop of a hat. You have no clue what was going through the back of my mind regarding you."
"So then why now?"
She was silent, looking at him wide-eyed for a long second. Then, with a bemused shake of her head, she slid off him and turned away, resting her head against the other pillow. "Either you're purposely playing dumb, or I've just been deluding myself. Which is it?"
"What?"
"If you really need to ask me, 'why now,' " she said, still not looking at him, "then we've got our signals crossed in a big way."
"It's just that it's a common coping mechanism for victims of emotional trauma -"
"Stop right there," she said, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and standing up. "I don't want to hear any more of your wisdom about how I'm reacting to the trauma. You don't always see things as clearly as you think you do, Bobby."
There was a long moment of silence, and then he said, "But I . . ."
"Are you deaf?" she snapped, interrupting him. "Because I thought I just told you to stop talking."
He sighed. "Alex."
"What?"
"Why are you so angry about this?"
She looked down at her bare feet, wiggling her toes. "Because you're making me feel like a yo-yo. When you're not busy dissecting everything, you seem interested, but when you take the time to think about it, suddenly you'd prefer to keep me at least ten feet away from you at all times." She shrugged and continued to study her toes, which looked like they could really use a pedicure. "I don't have a problem with finding out you're not interested, but I do have a problem with being held in limbo. So if you're afraid of hurting me, don't be. Just tell me."
He sat up and just looked at her for what felt like hours before letting out a heavy sigh and shrugging. "I'm not not interested."
"Oh, that explains everything, thanks," she said sarcastically, turning and heading for the door. "Let me know when you're ready to stop hiding," she added, pausing in the doorway.
"I'm not hiding!" he said vehemently, standing up and moving closer to her. "But you're trying to force me to give you answers that I don't have yet."
She leaned against the wall and gave him a skeptical look. "Oh? And when will you have them?"
"I . . . don't know."
"Right," she said as if he'd just confirmed what she already knew. "Sorry, but I'm no good at waiting around for someone else to make a move."
"What exactly is it that you want to hear from me, Alex?" he asked softly, putting a hand on the wall on either side of her head and leaning forward. "I can't read you well when it comes to things like this."
She raised her eyes to his, trying to see a hint of his feelings in them but finding no clues. "I want you to tell me whether you'd want to pull away or not if I kissed you right now," she finally said, deciding that was the best she could do as far as immediacy went. "Not what you would do, but what you'd want to do."
He fell silent, trying to analyze his own feelings.
Alex allowed him five seconds, which she counted off in her head. Then, whispering, "Too slow," she put her arms around his neck, locked her hands together, and forced his head down to her level. "It's not a trick question, Bobby. All I need is a simple yes or no."
He reached one hand behind his head to try to break her grip. "I . . . there isn't a simple answer to that question," he said hopelessly.
"Don't give me that. You have the IQ of a genius, you never lack for dates . . . I think you can answer one little question." When he still didn't answer, she sighed resignedly. "Then you're going to have to make the decision for real," she murmured just before tipping her head up to kiss him.
As he watched her lips approach his, he considered trying to get out of this before it got started, but her arms were around him too tightly for him to just slip away. He knew once their lips met, he'd be down for the count. A goner. There just hadn't been enough time since they were in bed for him to rebuild the defenses that had allowed him to pull away earlier in the day.
Their lips met and Bobby was hit by a wave of vertigo that almost knocked him over. His hands slid from the wall to her shoulders and clutched them as though she were the one solid thing in this disorienting moment.
And then she took her arms from around his neck, stepped away, and looked at him expectantly. "Well?"