A/N: Don't you love how in my CI universe, everything in New York is a three-second drive from everything else?
A/N 2: Currently avoiding my psycholinguistics paper...interesting how my fic production goes up when I'm procrastinating...
"Anything wrong?" Sean asked her as the elevator descended from her floor to street level. "You look pissed."
"Yeah, well, Goren's . . . annoying. And you should know better than conspire with him behind my back."
"Oh, come on. You could use a day off and you know it. And this way Jo won't whine to me about how I never take her to do girlie things."
Alex blinked. "Are you going with us?"
"Hell no!" Sean replied hastily. "I like to stay out of beauty parlors as much as possible, thanks. But I'll probably join you guys for lunch. Depends on what you decide to do with the day."
"Hmm." She looked over her shoulder at the empty back seat. "So, uh, why isn't she with us?"
He glanced at her quickly, then looked back at the road. "I need to stop at work on the way. I figured she'd be bored."
"Oh, and I won't be?"
He snorted. "Uh yeah, somehow I doubt you will be. You're a double-whammy to those guys. Well, maybe triple-whammy, actually."
"I'm a what?"
"Well, not only are you the Eames who has made the heroic recovery from being attacked by a suspect, but you're also Bobby Goren's partner. They know him in Narcotics, remember? Plus, guys tend to think you're hot, for some reason."
Alex groaned. "Wonderful. So I'm going to be bombarded by a bunch of hero-worshipping, Goren-question-asking, drooling cops."
"Sounds about right. Oh, come on," he said when she groaned again, "don't tell me it's not nice to get your ego fed every now and then. Besides, I'm going to be right there, anyway, so just give a yell if you want to leave."
"Exactly what do you need to do here today, anyway?" she asked as he angled his car into the precinct parking lot.
Sean sighed. "Paperwork that I forgot to do last night that my captain's up my ass about."
That got a grin out of her as he helped her out of the car. "Welcome to the world of detectives, my friend. Paperwork tripled, time on the street cut in half."
"You miss working on the street? Hey, thanks Masterson," he cut off as a squat detective in a brown trench coat held the door for Alex.
Masterson grunted noncommittally. "Cap's not gonna like you bringing in a girlfriend."
Alex snorted while Sean rolled his eyes. "That's why I left the girlfriend at home. This is my sister. Alex, meet Detective Nolan Masterson."
"Sister . . ." Masterson repeated, looking at her with slightly more appreciative eyes. "Nice to meet you, Alex. Sorry 'bout the assumption."
"No problem. Nice to meet you too," she said with a polite smile. Maybe this visit to Narcotics wouldn't be so bad, after all.
"Yeah," Sean blithely continued as the threesome walked into the squad room, "people don't usually peg her as a cop. Must have something to do with the shortness."
"Sean," Alex growled warningly.
Masterson stopped walking abruptly and snapped his fingers, pointing at her. "Oh my god, you're the sister!"
Alex blinked as the noise of the room enveloped them. "Didn't we just establish that?" she shouted over the din.
Masterson turned a dull red above his collar. "Uh, yeah. I just didn't realize you were the one who, you know, got hurt and everything. Now I'm really glad to meet you."
Heads were beginning to turn at the desks scattered around the room, detectives studying the three newcomers. "Come on," Sean told her, giving her hand a tug. "My desk's in the back."
"Thank the lord for that," she muttered as she followed him. Sinking down in the chair next to her brother's desk, Alex surveyed the room with a sigh. For the most part, it looked like every other bullpen she'd ever seen, although it wasn't anywhere near as modern as Major Case's.
"Do they make you do endless call-out forms?" Sean asked as he idly flipped through the stack of paper on his desk. "Or do you special cops get someone else to do it?"
"Don't I wish. We have to do our own, unfortun-"
"Eames!" a voice boomed from a few feet away.
Alex and Sean both reflexively looked up and said, "What?"
The speaker, a tall, middle-aged man with olive skin and a bald head, stopped and looked at them curiously. "Eames," he repeated, more slowly this time, "you know we don't like unapproved civilians in here. I know you're new and all, but you should know that much."
Alex glanced at her brother and swallowed her amusement at seeing that he looked totally cowed by the man. "You must be Sean's captain?" she asked with a bright smile, carefully working herself out of her chair and then holding out a hand. "I'm his sister. I'm with Major Case, so you don't need to worry about whether I'm a stray civilian."
"Captain Ray Silva," the man said slowly as he grasped her hand and examined her more closely, noting the stiff way she held herself. "You're injured? You must be Alex, then - the one in all the papers."
She gave him another smile. "Unfortunately, yes. Sorry to barge in on you like this. Just came along for the ride."
"Oh, no, it's fine. Glad to have you here," he added. "Maybe you can teach these guys a few things about being a cop while you're visiting."
"Uh," she said nervously, praying that he didn't try to introduce her around, "I doubt I know anything these guys don't. I just had the questionable luck of hitting the violent-perp jackpot."
"She's partnered with Bobby Goren," Sean said without looking up from his work, and Alex could still hear the smirk in his voice, even if she couldn't see it. He was enjoying seeing her unsettled by all the attention. She made a mental note to poison the next cup of coffee she bought him.
"No shit?" Silva said. "I worked with him on the street for a while before we both got promoted. How's he doing?"
"Uh, he's ok. Still alive and kicking."
"Still weird?"
Suspicious of the comment, Alex mentally pulled back from the other man. "Still unorthodox in his work, if that's what you mean."
Silva rolled his eyes. "In other words, yes. And obviously he acquired the ability to make nice with his partners somewhere between here and there." Noticing that the smile had frozen on Alex's face, he stopped. "Uh, sorry. I'm not insulting him, really. He and I actually got along pretty well."
"Hmm."
Silva, who really had liked Bobby Goren and all his weirdness, mentally kicked himself. "Seriously, Alex, I'm sorry for phrasing it that way. You know . . . why don't you let me introduce you around to a few people here who worked with him?"
Hoping for rescue, Alex glanced down at Sean, who just used one hand to wave her away, still not looking up. "Sure, why not," she told Silva, adding another black mark next to Sean's name on her psychic hit list.
"Make any new friends?" Sean asked her half an hour later as they got back into his car.
She sighed and slumped down in her seat, running her hands over her face. "Well, let's see. In the past half hour, I've been propositioned five times - twice by guys wearing rings - I've had my height pointed out loudly three times, I've had my partner made fun of six times, and your captain tried to grab my ass on the way out. Nope," she said with fake cheer, "all in all I wouldn't say I've made any new friends."
Sean choked on a sip of the lukewarm coffee he'd been about to put in the cupholder. "He grabbed your ass?"
She grinned. "He would have, if I hadn't taken a giant step away from him."
"Jesus, are there any guys in there that I don't need to consider injuring for the way they treated you?"
"Hmm. Masterson was very nice, nary a grab or an insult. Detective Murray seemed to honestly like Bobby and also didn't try to grab me. And . . . wait, was there another one? . . . no, I guess that's it. You can let Masterson and Murray live."
"What'd I tell you about you being a triple-whammy? This is going to make for an interesting week in Narcotics, let me tell you. But anyway, ready to head home? Jo's probably standing by the door with a frying pan, waiting to smash me for running so late."
"Sounds like a plan," Alex agreed. "But can we stop to get me coffee on the way? There was no way I was drinking that squad room swill."
"Yeah, someone might have slipped you a mickey and tried to take you home with them. Speaking of which, I want a full report on who propositioned you and how."
"Don't worry about it, Sean. I got used to it years ago. No reason start trouble. And Sean . . .for the love of all that's holy, don't tell Bobby about it!"