A/N. Oh-em-gee. Update! What a rare and unexpected thing from Ink! This chapter is Deakins' point of view, but is actually that of pretty much everyone in the squad besides Bobby and Alex. It's not quite as conversational as the last two, so my appologies, but I promise that the next chapter will be "conversational" enough for the whole fic. Just a note, this chapter implies that Goren and Eames have noclue how perfect they are together. The way I envisioned it is that they sort of have an idea that they're in love, but everyone else thinks that they haven't a clue. Does that make sense?
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James Deakins
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Those two're enough to drive the most patient man alive insane.
And as I'm sure you know, I'm not the most patient man alive. Don't misunderstand me, I am quite patient, but I'm not the most patient. What I'm trying (and not succeeding) insaying is that they'd try the patience of a stone. And stones? They're pretty patient.
Christ, I need new hyperboles.
Anyway…
Those two have been fawning over each other for years. He'll give that shy, boyish smile and she'll look up at him through those dark lashes. Eames is the only woman I've ever seen pull off the doe-eyed act successfully. Probably because for her, it's genuine, not just a ploy to entice male attention (though, of course, she receives that, too.)
The woman really doesn't realize that she's got every avaliable man (and most of the unavaliable ones, too) wrapped around her pinky finger. Alex walks into a room and everyone's eyes are drawn to her. Her charisma is palpable. As far as they're concerned, she's their sweetheart, and they'd do anything to protect her.
As for her partner, well, he's a different story. They respect him, but in a grudging sort of way borne of his habit of popping into others' cases just long enough to issue a bit of spot-on information. Although this is undoubtably helpful, MCS boys are completely territorial. Needless to say, these intrusions (though Bobby would never think of them that way; he's the teamwork poster-child and never picks up on their animosity) aren't particularly welcome, but are almost always brilliant and often lead to the case-breaker.
They put up with him, though, because like Alexandra Eames, he's theirs. They may complain and grumble about him in the bullpen, but at the end of the day when they go out for drinks with their buddies from other precincts, they'll smile and defend him from other officers' accusations, call him a genius, say that he's quirky but brilliant. In the end, he's still one of them, and even if he irritates them sometimes, they see how special he is and admire him, albeit jaundicedly.
Him and Alex... they're the Golden Couple, an untouchable ideal. They're this glowing center of the squad - incredible but somehow distant, like the popular kids in junior high that you knew everything about but didn't actually know. And everyone else will watch them walk through the room, watch her toss her hair and offer a witty comment and see him give that charming little half-smile in response. They'll hear the stories, passed down through the ranks in the way thatpolice tales are, of flawless interrogations, arrested perps and new crime scenes, of the way Bobby cut his hand to scare a suspect, and Eames' snark, and how he was the first person she'd called after she'd given birth.
There's an ongoing belief that one day they'll get together. There's one thing that makes them feel equal tothe Golden Couplesometimes, and it's the fact that they know something Alex and Bobby don't. When you're on the outside looking in, it's easy to see the subtle dances that they do, the little nuances of courtship that they don't even recognize.
She'll let her hand rest on his head sometimes, and the room will stand still, and everyone will watch, but Goren and Eames are both oblivious to this attention. She'll ruffle his salt-and-pepper curls affectionately and he'll look up at her and their eyes will connect for a moment before they're moving again, falling back into work, and everyone else is doing the same and pretending that they weren't watching every move the two made. There are other times when he'll lean over her shoulder to read off of her computer screen or paperwork, and his eyes will flick to the delicate curve of her throat and the auburn silk of her hair. Everyone can tell that he wants to press a gentle kiss there, but resists because he thinks that they're only partners, only friends, and that he shouldn't. Everyone silently eggs him on, tellshim to make a move, urges her to open her eyes and see the way that he looks at her and she at him. And every time, he'll decline, and she'll keep her eyes open just wide enough to see only what's right in front of her.
They're comforted to know, however, that it'll happen one day. When it comes to people like them, it always does.
So you see, we're really not all that in the dark. We know what this's been leading up to all these years. It's a gentle, slowly growing thing, but soon it'll bloom. And like the good observers that we are, we'll watch every move, and pat ourselves on the back when it's all over, because we saw it when even they didn't.