CI does not belong to me... I wish!
Alexandra Eames sat in the Major Case bullpen at 11:45 Tuesday night. Her high-heeled shoes had long been abandoned; they sat sadly under her desk, unnoticed. She was working on paperwork from their latest case, and she was a long way from ever actually finishing. Bobby, now seriously being considered for a Nobel prize for best partner ever, was out getting them coffee. Real Starbucks coffee, not the awful stuff in the squad room. Then again, he might've just wanted to get away from the paperwork. In the meantime, Alex still had to stay awake and without the lovely caffeine in her system that was proving difficult. Sighing, she put the headphones to her iPod into her ears and pushed its buttons until a song started playing. Humming along to her music seemed to keep her stimulated enough to stay awake, although once or twice she found herself writing down the lyrics instead of what she should have been writing. She put the iPod on shuffle and clipped it to her belt loop. She got back to work, at lest "I love this song!" she said to herself, singing along and dancing, paperwork temporarily forgotten.
Bobby was still on line at Starbucks. And all he wanted was some coffee. Maybe a couple muffins. He sighed, and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. This was hardly worth missing out on paperwork for a while. Apparently, the insanely tattooed teens in front of him in line agreed, as they left, mumbling about going to a different coffee place. That meant that after Guy With Really Long Hair and his girlfriend were done, it would be Bobby's turn at the register. It was interesting to see who was out getting coffee at midnight. Freaks, people out on dates, junkies who had never gone to bed, a fifteen year old who was no doubt breaking curfew, a couple of guys who were looking to preemptively battle their hangovers and, of course, Bobby Goren. Finally the exhausted workers behind the counter filled the Really Long Hair guy's order and Bobby stepped to the front of the line.
"Two venti coffees and two blueberry muffins to go." He said quickly, drumming the counter with his fingers. After what felt like an eternity, he was given his order and Bobby began to head back to the station house. He could practically hear Alex ranting about what had taken him so long. However, when he reached the eleventh floor of the One Police Plaza, Alex didn't even notice him.
"Quest que cest! Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far, better run run run run run run run awaaay!" she was singing loudly along to her iPod, inhibitions apparently gone for good. "OH, OHOH OOOOh! Aiyay-YAI YAI, YAI YAI!" she shook her hair back and forth as she danced, "psycho killer! Quest que cest! Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far, better run run run run run run run awaaay! You start a conversation you can't even finish it. You're talkin' a lot, but you're not saying anything. When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed! Say something once, why say it again?" she was up and dancing around the chair, arms flapping, hips swiveling, voice loud and off key, "PSYCHO KILLER! Run, run, run awaaaay!" Bobby couldn't help laughing at this. She was even using her pen as a microphone. She stumbled over the lyrics, "something in French… DON'T KNOW THE WO-RRDS!"
"Alex?" Bobby said, stifling more laughter and placing his hand on her shoulder. "Having fun?" She spun around to look at him, stopped the music and looked embarrassed.
"How long have you been standing there?" she asked, removing her earbuds.
"Long enough. I think you're sympathizing with the wrong side," he said, grinning. "And I didn't know you liked the Talking Heads."
"I had to think of some way to stay awake until you got back with the coffee. Took you long enough." She grumbled, trying to save face with sarcasm. Bobby shrugged and sat down at his desk across from her, still grinning.