A/N: My god, it's the chapter that refused to end! Every time I thought I had it to a resolution, one of them went and did something stupid and screwed it up again! Well, and it could also have something to do with my many failed attempts to inject smut, brought to an end only when I decided to be coy and cut it off. Sigh...
Alex sighed and tugged on the hem of the shirt she was wearing as she looked up at the front door of her building. "Do I have to?"
"Yes!" Jo said forcefully from beside her. "You look gorgeous, Alex, and you need to stop acting like you don't know it!"
"Yeah, but without a bra, I look . . . this is . . ."
"I believe the word you're looking for is 'revealing,' hon. And yes, it is. That's the fun. Bobby's going to forget how to even speak English when he sees you!"
Alex snorted. "He'll just switch to German, then."
"Alex, listen to me," Jo tried again. "You look hot. Even Connie agreed on that, and she's old. Now believe me when I say this: he is not prepared for what he's going to see come through the door in a minute. He's not expecting the red nails and he's sure as hell not expecting the red silk camisole cut down to there."
Alex unlocked the building door and held it open, but didn't go through it. "Jo -"
"But," Jo went on, talking over Alex's protests, "even if none of that gets to him quite enough to make him fall at your feet . . ." She gave Alex a gentle push through the doorway. "You have a secret weapon."
Alex blinked. "I do?"
"The thing zips up the back, Alex. Think about it." With that, Jo have her a quick hug and shoved her the rest of the way through the door. "I'm going to expect an update tomorrow!" she called through the glass as she headed back to her car.
Alex sighed as she trudged toward the elevator. "Well, even if it's a flop with Bobby," she decided as she pressed the button for her floor, "at least I can wear it as pajamas."
She unlocked the apartment door slowly, still hoping in the back of her mind that some sort of rescue would come to her at the last minute, but still found herself inside a few seconds later, awkwardly toeing off her shoes without bending over.
"Alex?" Bobby called tentatively from the kitchen. He wasn't sure if she was still angry at him, and, even worse, if she was, he hadn't come up with any magic words to make things better.
"Yeah," she said, still in the entryway, as she shrugged off her jacket. "Hi."
"Hi." He put down the book he'd been reading and stood up, impatient to see her face so he could know if he was in trouble. "I didn't know what you wanted for dinner, so I didn't start anyth . . ." He stopped and stared at her. "I thought you were getting your nails done," he finally managed a few seconds later.
"We did," she said simply, sticking out one hand and one foot to show him. So far, his reaction was definitely not encouraging her. She'd been hoping for something more along the lines of Wow, or You look beautiful, or even just a wordless stare - anything but a protestation about how she'd misled him about how she would spend the day.
"But you're . . . um, I mean . . ."
"I'm tired, Bobby," she said flatly, pushing past him into the kitchen. "Don't make me spend the night deciphering Goren-talk." Leaning forward against the counter, she cautiously raised her arms to rummage through the cabinet above her head. She knew she had some cookies in there somewhere . . . she just wasn't sure where.
"What are you looking for?" he asked from just above her head as he leaned over her.
Alex started at his unexpected closeness. "The, uh . . . Oreos," she told him quietly as she tried to back out from under his arm.
One of his arms shot out and wrapped around her hips, preventing her escape. "Here." He pulled the bag of cookies down from the cabinet and dropped it on the counter. Then, reeling her in with the hand he had on her, he looked at her again, this time with more intensity. "I didn't know you were going to go shopping." Damn it, Bobby, is that all you can say? Get your eyes above her neckline, you lecher!
"Sorry. Next time I'll be sure to give you a detailed itinerary." She tried to pull away, but failed. "Let go."
He did, but only to switch his grip to her hand instead of her hip. "I'm sorry. I . . . you look . . . amazing. I just wasn't expecting . . ." He shook his head dazedly and ran his free hand up her arm, stroking the expanse of bare skin there.
Alex felt a large chunk of the block of ice that had formed inside her since their fight in the morning break off and begin to melt. "Does that mean you like it?"
He looked at her warily. "Am I allowed to like it?"
She moved a step closer to him, so that she could feel the warmth coming from his body, resting their joined hands on the counter next to them. "Yes, you're allowed. You're allowed to comment on it, too."
He looked down at her and immediately regretted it. The view was dangerous enough when he was looking at her head-on; the view looking straight down was almost enough to bring him to his knees. "Uh, what?" he asked, realizing she'd said something while he'd been busy staring.
"I guess that's my answer," she said with a small smile. "I'm glad you like it. I'm not sure why I let Jo and Connie talk me into buying it." Liar! You know exactly why you bought it! And it's working, too! "It's not like I could ever wear it to work."
"Uh, yeah." She really did look more relaxed, he thought with a sigh of relief. Relaxed and pampered and . . . covered in the shade of red that had always looked so good on her. He stifled a groan.
"Something wrong, Bobby?" she asked, looking up at him innocently.
He swallowed. "Why . . . uh, I mean, isn't it . . . uh . . ." He forced himself to a stop before he became a complete babbling idiot.
Alex continued to look up at him with a mildly curious look on her face. "You want to try that again?"
He shook his head silently and glanced at his hand where it held hers, then back at her face. Well, almost her face. He cleared his throat. "Do you want to tell me about what you did today, and I'll tell you how work was?"
Alex blinked. "Ok, that was an interesting subject change." She shifted a little closer to him, until her body was just barely touching his. "You don't want to talk about my shirt anymore?"
Bobby coughed and tried to stand as still as possible.
"Is that a no?" she asked, pulling her hand out of his and moving it up to his cheek.
"A . . . huh?" he said a second too late. "A no to what?"
She had him hooked now. Alex allowed herself a tiny smirk, then cleared it off her face and used her hand to lift his chin up until she could meet his eyes. "I'm up here, Bobby."
A flush spread across his face. "I . . . uh, sorry. It's . . ." For the second time in five minutes, he had to stop speaking before he embarrassed himself.
Alex bent her neck down until her chin was almost touching her chest and said thoughtfully, "They do look pretty good from this angle, don't they?"
He made a noise that was somewhere between a moan and the pained groan of someone who'd just had the wind knocked out of them. "Alex . . ."
"Hmm?" she responded, raising her head to look at him.
"You don't . . ."
"I don't what?" she prompted softly, leaning into his chest and making him support some of her weight.
He sighed and forced some measure of control back into his voice. "Are you trying to make me incoherent, or is it just a side effect of whatever you are trying to do?"
She pondered that for a second. "Side effect. And a pleasant one, I must say. But I guess only for me . . . You don't seem to be having too much fun."
" 'Fun' is definitely not the word I'd use to describe it."
Alex sighed and took a step away from him. "And I thought we were going along so well for a while there."
A bolt of alarm went through him when he realized she was walking away. "Wait!" he blurted, grabbing her hand again.
"What, Bobby?" She didn't fight his hold on her, but she didn't move any closer to him, either.
"Look, I'm sorry about last night, and -" He stopped when he realized she had turned her back on him. "Alex?"
She rubbed her face with one hand, not looking at him. "Regrets are really not what I want to hear right now, sorry. Especially for things you started in the first place. This was a dumb idea, anyway."
He wasn't sure what to say first in response to that. "Ok, wait. Hold on," he said, pushing off the counter and walking over until he could stand in front of her again. "I'm not talking about . . . that part of last night. I'm talking about how it ended. I . . . just wasn't thinking when I brought that stuff up."
She snorted. "More like you weren't thinking with the right part of your body for a guy with a woman on his lap."
He tried not to turn any redder at that. "You're probably right."
"Of course I'm right. What's your point?"
"I'm trying to apologize, if you'd just stay still and stop interrupting me," he snapped impatiently.
Alex looked up at him with raised eyebrows. "Is that what you're doing? Because I thought maybe you were trying to commit suicide by cop. With me as the cop."
That forced a laugh out of him. "I would hope that you've got your gun in a lockbox."
"Yeah, but I also have the key, Goren," she retorted, feeling the anger start to drain out of her as they reverted to the joking manner she was so used to. "So watch your step around the woman in red."
His eyes flicked to her body again. "Uh, yeah . . . you're definitely wearing plenty of red."
She sighed and plopped down on one of the kitchen chairs. "Jo wanted me to get something 'sexy' to go with my nails."
"Why?" He pulled out another chair and straddled it so he was sitting in front of her.
"Why what? Why did she think I should get something sexy, you mean?"
"Among other things."
Alex sighed. "It's kind of a long, weird story. You sure you want to hear it?"
"I'm sure. But the kitchen probably isn't the best place for a long, weird conversation, now that I think about it."
"Oh?" She leaned back in her chair. "Where would you prefer to do it?"
"Bed?"
She stared at him, shocked. "Excuse me?"
Bobby sighed. "I mean because you're tired and it's a comfortable place to sack out for a long conversation. Not . . . whatever you're thinking."
"Pity," she remarked quietly as she stood up.
"What?"
"I didn't say anything." She tried to look innocent, but she was pretty sure it didn't work when he nearly jumped off his chair in his rush to block her way out of the kitchen.
"You said 'pity.'"
"If you already knew, why'd you ask?"
He groaned. "You think it's fun to drive me nuts, don't you?"
She gave him a sugary smile. "Well, what are you going to do, handcuff me to the bed? Sorry, but we already had that fight. As long as you're living here, you have to put up with being driven nuts."
To her alarm, instead of coming back with a snappy retort, he only looked at her contemplatively. "Can you raise your arms above your head yet?"
"Sort o- hey, wait! Exactly why do you want to know?"
He shrugged. "Oh, just wondering. Since you were trying on clothes and all today, it seemed like a logical question."
She took a step backward into the living room, looking at him suspiciously. "Is that really why?"
He followed her movement, making sure that he wasn't going to back her into anything that resembled a wall. "Of course that's why. You ought to trust your partner more, Eames."
She backed up another step and snorted. "I trust him just fine . . . except when he's got that sly look on his face like he does now."
"Sly, huh?" He continued to stalk her across the room, doing his best to herd her toward the bedroom.
"Yeah, sly." She glanced over her shoulder into the dark bedroom, then flipped on the lights and looked back at him. "So help me, Goren, if you try to cuff me to the bed, I'm going to kill you. Slowly and painfully."
"Do I look like someone who'd cuff an injured woman to her bed?"
"Yes!" she exclaimed, sidestepping as she reached the bed. "I'm serious, Bobby. Don't do it."
"Not going to." He followed her in another step, silently plotting his strategy, before he his left hand shot out with surprising speed and captured first one of her wrists, then the other.
Alex let out an indignant yelp and tried to tear her arms out of his grasp. "You promised!"
He calmly moved behind her and transferred her right wrist into his right hand so that he was wrapped around her back, almost enveloping her in a bear hug. "Do you see any cuffs in my hands?"
"You are the cuffs!"
"That," he pointed out, lowering his head to kiss her exposed neck, "was not part of your ban. And you should notice that you're not on the bed, either."
She pulled halfheartedly against him, managing to get as far as, "This isn't fair . . ." before his mouth and the stubble that surrounded it began to move up her neck and drove whatever she'd been saying out of her mind.
"Mmm." He kissed her jaw. "Who said anything about playing fair?"
Alex decided to accept her fate. It wasn't like being enveloped in a Bobby-hug was a terrible ordeal, anyway. "You're right. So tell me . . . was it the nails or the shirt that did it?" she asked as she relaxed against him.
"Huh?" He was way too distracted by the view to comprehend anything resembling a question.
"Hmm. Judging by where you're staring, I'll assume it's the shirt."
"What?"
Rolling her eyes, she pulled her wrists out of his now-loosened grip and turned around. "You see, Goren," she informed him in a schoolmarm voice, poking him in the chest with one finger, "this is what happens when you let your sexual frustration build up for way too long."
He twisted his neck, trying to regain the view he'd had, but couldn't. "I . . . what?"
She snorted. "I'll have to remember this for the next time I want to get you to shut up. Note to self: wear low-cut sh-"
Her teasing was interrupted by the ringing of a phone and they both groaned. "Not now!" Alex exhorted the unseen source of the noise.
Bobby managed something that resembled a grunt and took a step back from her. "It's mine."
"Well, go answer the damn thing and get rid of whoever's on the other end!"
He blinked. "Uh . . . ok." With Alex right behind him, he started tracking the ring to its source, which turned out to be a table next to the couch. Keeping one eye on her at all times, he sat down and opened the phone. "Hello?"
Alex raised her eyebrows and mouthed Hello? at him. He never answered his phone with a "hello," so he had to be even more distracted than he was letting on. When he just scowled at her and tried to wave her away, she pointedly ignored it and dropped onto the couch next to him. "Who is it?"
He ignored her, his attention suddenly focused on the phone. "Uh, yeah. Why?" he asked the caller.
Hmph. She couldn't let his attention be drawn away that easily, and unless it was Deakins on the other end of the phone, which she could tell it wasn't, she didn't care what the other person thought was going on on Bobby's end. She pivoted from her position next to him into a much more interesting one, straddling him.
Bobby jerked in surprise, narrowly missing knocking her in the head with the phone. Moving his eyes back to her, he gave her a dirty look and gestured for her to get off of him. A second later, he was staring at the phone again. "Today? Are you sure it was . . . well yeah, that sounds right. She . . ."
Alex's ears pricked up at the word she. Either he was talking about her, or there was a secret girlfriend she needed to take out a hit on . . . but her money was on the first. "Who is it?" she asked again. A second later, she matched his scowl and added, "If that's one of my brothers, Bobby, so help me, I'm going to throttle you with this shirt instead of let you look down it."
He shook his head at her. "Murray, wait . . . no, hold on." He put his hand over the phone and stared hard at her. "You went to Narcotics today?"
Alex blinked, not making the connection for a second before she realized that the "Murray" he was talking to had to be the one she'd met this morning. "Uh, yeah. Sean needed to finish some paperwork. No big deal," she said lightly.
He just shook his head slightly and uncovered the phone. "Give me that again, Murray?" He kept his gaze on Alex as he listened, eyes narrowing at whatever the caller was saying. "Who told you that?" he demanded of the man.
"Bobby . . ." Alex attempted, reaching for the phone with a half-baked plan of hanging up before the guy could deliver any more news from the narcs.
He snatched her hand out of the air and held it against the back of the couch, directing another glare at her. "Ok, man. Thanks for letting me know. Yeah, bye." He flipped the phone closed and tossed it on the table without taking his eyes off her. "Would you like to tell me about your little visit this morning?"
Men don't gossip, she assured herself. He probably just called to tell Bobby he wants my number or something. "Uh, nothing really to tell. Like I said, Sean needed to finish some work, so he brought me . . . what?" she broke off, realizing that his face was only getting darker.
"Who'd you meet?" he asked with false lightness.
"Um, a few people . . . uh, a guy named Murray . . . and um, Nolan Masterson . . ."
His eyebrows lifted a little higher on his forehead, but that his was only reaction to her weak statement. "That's it?"
"Pretty much." She scowled. "Don't think I don't know that you're fishing for something! You want to tell me what?"
"Sure," he said shortly. "The name 'Ray Silva' ring a bell?"
"No," she said a little too quickly. "Who's he?"
"You're a bad liar when it comes to me, Alex. Tell me what happened."
"Nothing happened!"
"Really? Then maybe you want to tell me why word among the guys is that Silva 'got a piece of' Sean Eames's sister?"
She stared at him, open-mouthed. "What?"
"You heard me." He released her hand, moving his hands to her hips to hold her still as she started to struggle for freedom. "Tell me what happened."
"He . . ." She shuddered in disgust. "That scumbag!"
His hands tightened slightly on her. "Does that mean it's true?"
Worried by his cold tone, she looked down at him. "What, exactly, are you thinking happened? You're looking kind of scary right now." When he just continued to look at her, she sighed. "He tried to grab my ass. He didn't even manage to actually do it. It's not a big thing, Bobby."
He drew in a slow breath. "That's it? He didn't touch you?"
"No. Now, would you please let me go? I want to go get on my pajamas - this call kind of spoiled the mood."
He released her hips, but stood up and followed her toward the bedroom. "Were you going to tell me about this, or were you just hoping no one would mention it to me?"
She started to pull off her top, then stopped, realizing she couldn't, and groaned through clenched teeth, "You need to unzip me."
"Pardon?" he said blankly, without moving from his position in the doorway.
"The shirt, Bobby. It zips, and I can't reach it."
He started to walk toward her, then paused. "Is this a trick?"
"No, it's not a goddamn trick! I just want to get the damn shirt off, is that too much to ask?"
"Sorry." He walked the rest of the way into the room. "Were you going to tell me?" he asked again as he felt along the back of her top for the zipper.
"Not a chance in hell. I knew you'd freak out. It's here," she said, twisting an arm around to try to point toward the zipper.
"Thanks." He started to pull on it, then stopped. "I'm not freaking out."
"Zip while you talk, Bobby. And you're right, I'm surprised you haven't gone charging out of the apartment to hunt him down. But you're not exactly happy right now, either."
He grunted noncommittally as he slid the zipper the rest of the way down. "I'm still considering the charging thi . . ." He stopped and stared at her bare back, realizing a second later that the top had slipped down her arms once the zipper was undone.
Alex held the shirt up with one hand while she turned to look at him. "Go on, shoo before I spoil your virgin eyes."
"My what?"
"You've got three seconds, Goren, and then I'm changing whether you're in here or not." She waited for him to move, or at least do something. When he didn't, she let out a loud sigh. "Fine. Don't come bitching to me later," she snapped as she dropped the shirt and turned to look for her pajama top.
"Alex?"
"What?" she mumbled as she dug through a drawer, searching for her favorite flannel top.
"You, uh, said the mood was ruined."
She snorted. "You could say that. Where is this damn . . . Bobby, have you seen my long-sleeved flannel top? The blue one?"
"Uh, I don't think so. It hasn't been in any of the laundry I've folded," he responded automatically. Then, after a pause to get himself back on the topic he wanted to be on, he added, "Is it fixable?"
"What? The top? I can't fix it if I can't find it, genius."
"Not the top. The mood."
"The . . . huh?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest, covering her breasts, and turned to face him. "What are you talking about?"
"The mood," he repeated. "Can we get it back?"
She blinked. "You're actually asking me this?"
"Uh, yeah. Shouldn't I be?"
"I'm just surprised you'd want it back at all," she said. "Since we were going down the path to hell, or whatever you think sleeping with me would be."
He moved a step closer to her. "Give me a break, Alex. It's not my fault the guy called at the wrong time."
She retreated a step, more to annoy him than out of any kind of apprehension. "I didn't say it was your fault. I just said it spoiled things."
The movement didn't go unnoticed. "Am I scaring you?" he asked, stopping in his tracks.
"No."
"Then why are you backing up?"
"Because I feel like it," she shot back. "Why are you following me?"
"Because I feel like it." He was purposely goading her now, he acknowledged to himself. Maybe if he irritated her enough, she'd start talking with her hands . . . "So, what are you going to do when I corner you, Alex?"
She backed up again. "You mean besides have a panic attack?"
"Yes, besides that." The were approaching the edge of the bed now; if he forced her back another step, she'd trip over it and end up on her back on the mattress. That probably wouldn't be good for her ribs, he decided with a quiet sigh. "Look where you're going before you back up any more."
"Huh?" She glanced over her shoulder. "Oh, now you're playing fair again?" And there it was: one hand came off her chest to wave her exasperation in the air. "Do you want to consider informing me next time you make one of these rule changes?" The hand pointed back to herself.
Bobby watched the hand intently, hoping she didn't remember where it had been before she started ranting. "What rule changes?"
"The rule changes where -" She started to lift her other hand to gesture at him even more vehemently, then stopped short with the hand only a few inches away from her chest as she caught him watching her a little too closely. "Bobby Goren, are you trying to get me to expose myself?" she asked, clamping her hands back down where they had been.
"Uh . . . yeah."
She blinked. "Oh. Well, at least you're honest, I guess. You could have just asked, though."
"You didn't seem like you'd be too amenable to it," he said with a cautious shrug. "What with the yelling at me about Murray's phone call and the looking for your pajamas." He paused, looking at her suspiciously. "Does that mean that if I ask, you will?"
"Well, it would kind of depend on how well you present the request," she told him with a smirk. "I do have standards."
With one large step, he closed the gap between them, putting a hand behind her back to keep her from backing up and falling onto the bed. He slid his other arm around her hips, resting his hand in the small of her back. "I would very much like," he began, in a voice that would have sounded formal if it hadn't been quite so intense, "for you to put your arms down, Detective Eames."
"Ooh, 'Detective' now, huh?" she teased. "Good start. For that, you get one arm." As promised, she moved her right hand away from her chest and transferred it to his waist. "But really, is it fair for me to be standing here half-naked and you to be fully clothed? I don't think so," she added, starting to tug the side of his shirt out of his pants.
Bobby thought for a second about what he could say to get her to drop the other arm without protest. "If you drop your other arm, I'll promise to stay away from Ray Silva - if, that is, he stays away from you."
"You swear?" she asked warily. "No loopholes?"
"None other than the one I just mentioned."
"Really?" Somehow she still found herself skeptical of that promise.
"Yes, really. Now are you going to do it, or do I have to start trying to think of some other strategy?"
"Oh, you're a real silver-tongued devil, Goren. Be still, my heart." Then, without giving him time to respond to her sarcasm, she dropped her other arm and put it around his waist. "There, happy?"
He looked down and swallowed hard, hardly even noticing when she started working on the buttons of his shirt. "Yes."
"Bobby?" she said a few seconds later.
"What?"
"Do you think we could sit down somewhere while you stare? I can't reach your face from down here."
He dragged his eyes back up to her face and blinked slowly as he processed her question. "Sit?"
She sighed. "If this is how you act when I let you touch me, I'm totally going to rent myself out to Carver for the next time he wants to make you stop arguing with him."
That got his attention. "What?"
She grinned and, holding onto his shirt for balance, lowered herself onto the bed. "Sit, Bobby."
He sat, allowing her to divest him of his shirt in the process, and cupped her cheek with one hand. "You're . . . beautiful."
She turned her head to kiss his palm, then grinned up at him. "You're not so bad yourself. C'mere," she added, motioning for him to lean toward her.
He obeyed with alacrity, and three seconds later found himself on his back with her kneeling beside him. "What the . . ."
Her hand roamed up his chest as she rested on one elbow and bent to kiss his lips. "You got a complaint about this?" she mumbled against his mouth.
He shook his head dumbly and captured her face in his hands, holding her down to him as he deepened the kiss. "Alex . . ."
She closed her eyes and let herself be absorbed in the sensation of his lips against hers. The fact that the muscles of the arm she was supporting herself with were shaking didn't penetrate her brain until a second too late, and instead of leaning over him, she now found herself sprawled beside him. "Oops," she muttered absently.
"You ok?" he managed to ask without taking his lips from hers, one of his hands roaming up her side as though feeling for injuries. When he found none, the hand retraced its path in reverse, this time just to feel her soft skin.
"Fine," she breathed.
"You sure?" he persisted, this time pulling back an inch so he could see her face.
She opened one eye and gave him a bored look. "I'm fine, Bobby. It's a soft bed." Returning her hands to his body, she closed her eyes again and trailed one finger down to the top of his pants, hiding a smile when he shuddered under her hand.
He groaned when her hand brushed against him as she started to work on his belt, and before she could react, she found their positions reversed, with her on her back and him kneeling over her. "Alex," he whispered into her hair. "Don't want to . . . can't . . . hurt you . . ."
She kept her hands where they were and continued to focus on her task. "I'll tell you if you do," she replied softly, arching her back slightly as his hands stroked oh-so-lightly over her ribs. "But you won't."
"How do you . . ."
"Because you're you," she answered before he could even finish the question. "And lately there's a part of your brain that's on 'Don't hurt Alex' autopilot."
He paused to look at her face. "A part of my brain that's what?"
"Don't believe me?"
He blinked. "I'm not sure I even understand what you just said."
She shrugged carelessly and, without warning, knocked his hands, which had been supporting him over her, out from under him.
He landed with his elbows on either side of her head, his upper body arched back to avoid crushing hers under him. "What the hell did you do that for?" he blurted, trying to slow his pulse back to something resembling normal.
She smiled and wiggled her hands where they were trapped between them, tickling his lower abdomen. "I told you. Autopilot."
"Jesus Christ. You didn't have to give me a heart attack to prove it!"
She hid a smile and lifted her head slightly to kiss him. "Sorry."
"Don't do that again," he said against her mouth. "Please."
"Then stop worrying so much and just let yourself enjoy." His belt finally gave way under her hands and she slid her mouth down to his neck and smiled against his skin when she felt his body begin to shake. "Enjoy, Bobby."