Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.

A/N: Thanks to those of you who are reading. I appreciate your thoughts and comments. I have been zooming along. I am 2-3 chapters ahead of what I am posting. I have gotten a little stalled. I had one thing happening for awhile, but now I am thinking in another direction. I'll have to see if this slows the process. It is very nice to hear from you.

Sheila

Control

Chapter 2

Alex looked at herself closely in the bathroom mirror. The sounds of foot traffic sounded outside the door. She was in the only bathroom for females in the entire building and, as usual, it was empty. The mirror stretched the length of the wall, and she wondered if there was ever a time when the room was filled with women.

She looked carefully for smudges under her eyes. Her mascara always started to stray this time of day. She rubbed a little at the edges of her eyes and looked again. Her eyes looked tired and no amount of mascara was going to make a difference. It felt like she went from being a sweet faced girl to the worn face in front of her in the space of a minute. She had turned into a woman who worked day and night, hung out with other people's kids, and went out on dates with guys when she knew better. She shook her head at her reflection and ran her fingers through her hair.

When she emerged from the restroom, she saw a commotion around her desk. Deakins, Goren, Logan, and a few others were looking at something on her desk. When she got closer, she spotted the white flowers. It was more than ostentatious; it was grotesque. There must have been 4 or 5 dozen white roses in a green vase. They seemed to cover the entire surface of the desk.

Logan spotted her, and one eyebrow shot up. "You really hooked someone good, Eames. This must've set him back, maybe $300. I can't remember the last time someone inspired me to purchase that much vegetation."

Carolyn Barak looked up from her desk and snorted. "This isn't about inspiration, Mike. You're just too cheap."

Alex felt the color rise in her cheeks. She did the best she could to keep her face passive, but she found herself unable to meet anyone's eyes.

"Do you know who sent these?" Deakins asked.

"Are you kidding? You don't get this kind of bouquet from a stranger," Bobby said, cocking his head as he regarded her.

She looked up and glared at her partner. Then she walked to the desk and picked the flowers up out of the vase and stuffed them into the trash next to her desk. She reached for the vase, but stopped short. She knew if she had her hands on that glass it was going to shatter, and she was already drawing enough attention to herself. Instead she turned to her captain, "I need to take some lost time. I'm all caught up."

The embarrassment they could understand. Alex was not someone who liked to be the center of attention, but the anger was another story. Deakins glanced at Goren briefly before nodding. She grabbed her leather jacket and headed for the exit. Goren started after her, but Deakins put a hand on his arm. "She doesn't want her private life here. Let's leave her alone."

Goren frowned at his captain and pulled away, but did nothing more but stick his hands in his pockets and walk over to her desk. He pulled the flowers out of the trash and looked through them carefully. He reached a hand in and extracted a white card. For a moment, he just stood there, the card in his hand. Then he rubbed his face with a hand and looked at it. He nodded to himself, folded the card and put it into his pocket.

Deakins raised an eyebrow. "Is there a story there?"

Bobby shrugged. "An old school friend, I think. Probably an apology…Guess Alex wasn't ready to accept."

"That's some expensive apology," said Logan.

"Nothing to worry about." Goren cleared his throat and strolled away.

…………………………………………………………………………..

The phone woke him. He fumbled for it while squinting at his clock radio. 2:30 a.m. flashed back at him. "What?" he managed into the phone.

"Ah, sorry to wake you Detective."

"I'm not on-call. Go bother Logan."

"This isn't a case…well, not exactly…This is really not my business, but your partner called in a B & E about an hour ago. I'm sure it's fine 'cause she called back about 15 minutes later and said it was a false alarm. It's just that I didn't like the sound of her even though she said she was okay…I shouldn't have called, but I was thinking that if it had been my partner, I'd have wanted to know."

Bobby sat up. "You were right to call. Thank you."

Half hour later he was at her doorstep knocking. He knew she wouldn't welcome him. Things had been prickly between them for some time now, and undoubtedly she was embarrassed about calling in the B & E. She swung open the door and frowned at him. "Whoever told you about this is going down."

He shrugged. "I was in the neighborhood."

"Nothing happened. I thought things were missing, but I was wrong."

"Mind if I come in?" He cocked his head at her.

She chuckled to herself, shaking her head. "You put on a suit at 3 a.m."

Bobby looked at himself. "No tie. Open collar. I think I look pretty casual."

"You thought you might have to work," she observed, leaning against the door frame.

"Alex," he began.

"You already knew what you would find when you got here."

He took a deep breath and pointed to the door. "There are no signs of forced entry or scratches on the lock. I think he has a key. When you got home tonight, I imagine you found another offering; flowers again or candy, a gift perhaps. But that's not why you called. Something is missing from the apartment; something that upset you."

Arms folded, Alex looked down at the ground for a few moments. Then she looked at him. "I have it under control."

"We're partners."

"I don't want to be rescued."

He shook his head. "You and I feel very different about this. I don't want to rescue you. I just want to help a friend I value very much."

She nodded and stepped aside. He walked past her into the apartment. He had been there before. It was small but surprisingly Spartan. Her art consisted of family photos. There were no knickknacks, just furniture, pictures and books: lots of books. Her kitchen table was small, and it was there he found the gift. There were flowers, red roses this time, another ostentatious display. And there was a small box from Tiffany. He picked it up and opened it. A chaste, diamond studded cross necklace gleamed at him.

He turned his head to her. "Why didn't we know this the first time around?"

She looked away.

He put the box down and wandered the rest of the apartment. He stopped at the entrance to her bedroom. "He took something from here, didn't he?"

Alex closed her eyes for a moment.

Bobby looked at the ceiling. "He took your undergarments, your lingerie."

"Yeah."

"How long has this been going on?" His voice was low.

"Knock it off, Bobby." She turned and disappeared into her living room.

He found her on her couch, her head in her hands. He sat down beside her. "I'm sorry, Alex. I'm worried. Please tell me about this."

She sat up and looked at him. "This is embarrassing."

"It's okay. No judgments. I promise you."

"It was after I killed Ronald Wick in his apartment. Jimmy was really appreciative. I told him it was just part of the job, and for awhile that was fine. But he started calling a month ago. Insisted that he take me out to dinner. I told him I couldn't date people involved with my casework. He was really persistent. He said it wasn't a date. It was merely a gesture of appreciation. He wore me down."

Bobby nodded. "Jimmy Ross was Wick's friend, but we never really looked at him as being an accomplice. He's very charming, handsome; he's a successful software designer, an inventor. He holds three patents, I think."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't looking for a date, but I did allow him to take me out to dinner. I thought he might get it out of his system. Clearly that was a mistake. He took me to an insanely expensive restaurant. Food came out as pieces of art. It was almost too grotesque to eat, and then he started talking about me. He knew things he shouldn't have known. He talked about vacations we were going to take; things he was going to buy me. I tried to reason with him, explain that these things were not possible, but he wouldn't listen. I finally had to get up and walk out on him."

"Ronald Wick was obsessed with Susan Phillips, and he was friends with Jimmy, but we never assumed that their obsessions might be their connections. I can't believe this. Ronald and Jimmy were a completely unlikely pair, but we never questioned what connection they might have."

"Ronald was pretty obvious. We didn't have to work too hard."

"Well, that is, until he had a gun trained on you."

She glared at him. "Let's not talk about that."

"Okay. Okay, but it's starting to sound like these two were friends because of their interest in women, possessing women, especially women who do not want to be possessed. They can commiserate with one another, help each other with surveillance and such."

"I have been rude to him. I've told him to stay away. I have threatened to get a restraining order. Nothing is making a difference."

"He can't see you. You are an object of his obsession. Your feelings and desires have no import for him. He wants you as a possession, a trophy."

"Bobby, why me? If this is true about his relationship with Ronald, then he wasn't worried about being in danger. I just don't get it. I really don't see myself as the trophy type."

Bobby chuckled. "These guys aren't looking for a six foot tall ice blonde with a spray on tan. They're taken in by someone they admire. A woman who might be inordinately kind or friendly. In your case, you were brave and strong. They want those qualities for themselves. And the truth is that you are beautiful. The combination would be intoxicating for him."

Color started rising in her cheeks and she looked away.

"Alex, he's dangerous. Remember what Wick did to Susan Phillips. He dismembered her one limb per day in an effort to get her to acquiesce. He stopped the bleeding each time, and she ended up living four days. If Jimmy shares this intensity, then we're in big trouble."

"I'll get a restraining order."

Bobby shook his head. "That won't even make a dent in his plans."

She looked at him fiercely. "I'll handle this."

"We'll do it together."

She shook her head. "Then people will know. It will look like I was dating him. I don't want that."

"Just let me go talk to him. Let me find out how deep he is."

"So far, he's only a nuisance. I can handle him."

Bobby's face colored. "A nuisance? The man has broken into your home. He has disregarded your wishes repeatedly, and he has stolen intimate clothing from you. What in God's name is going to qualify as a problem?"

She stared down at her hands folded into her lap.

He sighed. "Alex, this is not about your competence. This is about me. This is what I do. I identify. I climb into their heads. It's my gift. A few months ago, you told me that you brought nothing unique to our working partnership. That's not true. You are not in this with me because you're the only one patient enough to put up with it. You're the one who can keep up. You're the one who challenges my thinking. You smooth out my edges. You focus me. Hell, you're the one who doesn't need me." He waited for a response and when he got none, he continued. "Let me go out and do what I do. I want to assess him. I want to know what he's thinking. Maybe I can shut him down."

She nodded. "I'll go with you."

"No. You're a distraction right now. He won't talk to me if you're there."

She looked at him warily. "We're working together on this. I'm not taking a backseat. You meet with him. I'll do some background. We'll compare notes."

He relaxed visibly. "This is what makes us the best team in five boroughs."

She cocked her head at him. "That's good, Bobby. Take that ego out for a little exercise every now and then."

He chuckled softly at her.

………………………………………………………………………………………….

Bobby hadn't taken much time to admire the décor the last time he was in this apartment. His memories of that visit included blood and a screaming child, a dead man and his partner slumped similarly against the wall. If not for those visceral images, he would have taken time to admire Ross's lithograph collection. He had some truly rare pieces and had them artfully mounted on his long living room wall. The furniture was Danish modern; designs that Bobby appreciated.

Footsteps sounded, and he turned to find Jimmy Ross approaching, a glass of iced tea in each hand. He smiled warmly and gave Bobby his tea. Then he gestured at a black leather sectional. "Come. Sit down. I assume we are here to talk about your partner."

Bobby settled himself on the couch. He held the tea politely, but couldn't bring himself to drink it. "You've been pursuing her."

Jimmy nodded. "Yes, I have, and she is proving to be something of a challenge. She's really something exquisite, don't you agree?"

"Well, she would be if she was a thing, but she's a person, and she doesn't want you to pursue her anymore."

Jimmy nodded. "You want her for yourself. I understand that. I respect it, Detective, but I can't step aside."

"Nobody can own her. She is her own person. She doesn't want either of us."

"Have you ever been a collector of fine art?"

"Jimmy, this is not comparable."

"Please tell me."

"Yes, I like abstracts. I have a couple that I really enjoy. They're not worth much, but they bring depth to my space."

"Think of Alex as a Mona Lisa—"

"No, Jimmy, I can't. Alex is not a possession. She can not be owned."

"Ah, but she owns me. Whatever her intentions, she has a stranglehold on my soul. I merely wish to complete the circle."

"I'm guessing that you used to take anti-psychotics. When did you stop?"

Jimmy frowned at him, his smooth face erupting with displeasure. "I haven't taken them in years. I don't need them."

"It makes it hard to create when you're taking psychotropics, doesn't it?"

"And how do they affect you, Detective."

"Actually, I find I'm more creative when I take my medication. Isn't that interesting?"

"I am not a collector. I only want her. She's a culmination of everything that has meaning in my life."

Bobby sighed and leaned forward, looking directly at Ross. "You're bordering on psychosis, Jimmy. You need help."

Jimmy shifted in his seat. "Well, you're bordering on rude, Detective."

"If you don't stop harassing her I'm going to have to arrest you, and I'll keep on arresting you until you stop. Medication is your best bet right now. My guess is you have several projects that wouldn't survive the jail time you would have to serve if you keep bothering her. You gotta focus, Jimmy."

He snorted. "This works out great for you. Tell me, Detective. How many suitors have you taken care of, to date?"

"Detective Eames is my partner and my friend, nothing more."

Jimmy sat back, crossing his long legs. He was a sharp dresser; Bobby could tell his outfit cost more than a Detective's monthly salary. "You're really not going to let this go?"

"No"

"Okay, perhaps you have a point. I have a patent pending right now. I am in something of a race with another manufacturer. Jail time would ruin all my efforts. Let's say we call a truce for right now. In a year, it might be a different story, but I will let you have her for right now."

Bobby narrowed his eyes. "Jimmy, this is too easy."

Jimmy shrugged. "If you take my freedom, there is really no point to having her."

"Okay," Bobby said slowly. "It's a deal if you start taking medication again."

He made a face.

"Come on, Jimmy. I'm not letting go until you meet with a psychiatrist and fill the prescriptions."

He smiled. "Well, I can do all that."

"Right, and I'm going to need a release for the psychiatrist because you're going to be getting your blood levels checked every six months."

Jimmy rolled his eyes and launched himself up from the couch. "I'm pretty sure you don't have that much leverage."

"You really think you're going to last a year if you don't medicate?"

Jimmy stood, his hands jammed in his pockets, the tension evident in his posture. "Give me a minute to think." He turned and walked from the room.

Bobby got up and sighed. The whole thing hadn't felt quite right, but he had to start somewhere. He reached for his cell and hit a number. "Hey, Eames, I think we might be getting somewhere. I'll be down in about fifteen minutes, I think. Order me one of those coffees you like so well…No, he's a little hinky still, but he's a businessman, and I have to believe he understands compromise…No, no, remember I said I was going to eat healthy. See if they have a bagel or something, no cream cheese…bye."

He heard no sound from the other room and so he began to stroll around studying the lithographs. There were times that Bobby wished for more financial freedom to pursue his aesthetics, but he realized that it would feel empty if his moneymaking wasn't of the purpose he felt when he was avenging murders. It was a choice he had made a long time ago, and one he had made his peace with.

He heard Jimmy's footsteps and turned. The man seemed resigned to his situation and gave him a sullen look. Bobby opened his mouth to seal the deal when he noticed the odd contraption in Jimmy's hand. He reached for his gun, but Jimmy had already activated his stun gun. Bobby seized as electricity ripped through him. He reached for something to steady himself, but it was clear that Jimmy's homemade stun did not have safety settings, and he found himself unable to control the voltage running through him. He fell, his back landing on a coffee table. The shock ended but he found he couldn't control his muscles. Then Jimmy was there with a baseball bat, and Bobby struggled to raise his arms.

TBC