Early the next morning, as it rose from beyond the sea, the sun sent its rays streaming into the room through the open curtain. She slipped from his arms without waking him and pulled the curtains closed. Turning back toward the bed, she watched him sleep. His face was relaxed and for the first time she could remember he was not troubled. She had often seen him toss restlessly, plagued by nightmares he would not discuss. But last night he had slept, deeply and peacefully, holding her in his arms, safe against his chest.
Returning to the bed, she lightly fingered his hair, but he didn't stir. Kissing his temple, she quietly dressed and wrote a quick note. Gone to get breakfast. Hope you're in the mood for waffles. Be right back. She placed the note on the pillow and slipped silently out the door.
She walked slowly down to the diner, letting her mind dwell on him. He was more relaxed than she had ever seen him, and she'd never known him to smile so readily. It wasn't the same smile she saw in the squadroom, either. She had rarely seen this smile before. She got breakfast for both of them--waffles, with bacon and sausage for him and fruit for her, and coffee. Gotta have the coffee.
When she got back to the room, she was very surprised to find him still sound asleep, still resting on his side where she had left him. She wondered how long it had been since he'd slept well. She set the food out on the table and brought in an extra chair from the balcony. Then she sat beside him on the bed. She traced the side of his face with her finger, leaned down and softly kissed him. His breathing changed and he rolled onto his back, slowly opening his eyes. She rested her fingers against his lips and smiled at him. "Good morning."
He kissed her fingers. "You're still here."
"Yep. And so are you. Did you sleep well?"
He nodded. "You?"
"Yes, I did. I got breakfast. Come and eat."
He sighed, content, as he watched her walk to the table. Getting up and dressing, he came up behind her and kissed the top of her head. "You slept well," she commented. "You've never slept like that, not that I've seen."
"Well," he said with a slight shrug, sitting down and looking at her. "You...you chase away the nightmares."
"I may not always be able to do that."
"No, you won't. But I'll settle for some of the time over none of the time any day."
She accepted that. At least he was realistic about it. She took a bite of melon and quietly asked, "Can I tell you something? This has really been bothering me."
"Ok." He sounded tentative.
"Last night, you said that you were like your dad. I don't see that, and I never have."
"He was a player. He took what he wanted, or thought he needed, and moved on. He used women for his own purposes without ever investing himself in them. I...I worked along those lines, because I never let myself get invested in anyone. I never opened myself to any of them."
"You think you used them?"
"In a way, I did."
"Bullshit, Bobby. You entered into relationships looking for the right one. That's not usery. You're nothing like your old man. It's not your fault you've been afraid to get close. That was his fault. Ok, he was a bastard for leaving your mom and deserting you, and maybe he wasn't capable of love, but that's not you. If you weren't capable of love, we wouldn't be here...and last night would never have happened."
He looked down at his hands. "I...I do love you."
"Then you're not like your dad, are you?"
"N-not any more."
"I'm sorry but I'll never believe you used any of your girlfriends. Annie said she started to love you. There was a reason for that."
"Like I said, I was good at playing the game."
"And you never cared?"
"I...I never said I didn't care. I just...couldn't love."
"Well, then, there's the difference. You have a good heart, Bobby. I can't believe you ever intended to hurt anyone."
"No. No, I never did. But that doesn't change the fact that I did hurt them."
"So why am I different?"
"I-I don't know. You're my partner. I never meant to fall in love. That caught me by surprise."
"So this isn't a game any more? It's not just sex?"
"What? How...how can you ask that? You know me, Eames, better than anyone."
"You said you were very good at playing the game."
He shook his head. "Not that good. I could never pretend to love when I didn't. I-I'm not pretending with you, about anything. You'd see right through me." He shifted uncomfortably on the chair. "I...I am done with the game. I decided that the other night. I've had it with playing and hurting and being hurt. I can't do it any more."
"See? You're not like your dad at all. He never pulled himself from the game."
"He never fell in love, either. Maybe if he had, things would have been different. My brother and I came along because Mom wanted us, not because he did."
She leaned back and looked at him. "You really do love me, don't you?"
"I would never tell you I did if I didn't. Why?"
"You're talking to me, and you're not looking for a hole to crawl into."
He laughed. "Eames, if you haven't gone running by now, I guess you never will."
"You can count on that, Goren."
She leaned closer and gently kissed him. Leaning her forehead against his, she said, "So you've given up your game. Does that mean you don't like to play any more?"
"That depends on what you mean by that."
"Would you like to find out?"
He laughed and followed her to the bed. Neither of them gave another thought to breakfast.
------------------------------------------------------
The waves broke and crashed onto the beach. The water raced across the sand and then retreated. She was sitting above the watermark, tracing figures in the sand with a stick. He came up behind her and dropped to his knees, leaning over her shoulder to kiss her cheek. She leaned back into him, resting her arms on his thighs. Into her ear, he whispered, "I have something for you."
"Oh?"
He held his hand out and opened it, revealing the shell he'd found tumbling in the surf after the storm. He spoke softly, his mouth still right by her ear. "I found it in the surf, but it's still perfect. It was tossed about in the storm, but it hadn't been there long enough to have been damaged by sand and water. I, uh, I thought about you. You've been here, by my side, for four years, but you're still undamaged by the storms that torment me. You've actually helped to calm my storms." He kissed the side of her neck. "You've always given me...stability. I didn't realize it until you went on maternity leave, and you weren't there. That's when I knew how much I needed you."
She took the shell, turning it over in her hands. "Is that when you knew you loved me?"
"No. I've loved you for much longer than that. I just didn't know how much I needed you."
He sat down, pulling her back into him and sliding his arms around her, holding her close. He rested his head against hers, breathing in the scent of her. Absently, her fingers traced circles on his legs through his jeans as she watched the ocean. She sighed softly. "It's almost dark, and we haven't had dinner."
"Later," he murmured against her head.
"Why later?"
"I just want to sit here on the beach with you for a little while." He slipped his hand under her shirt and gently caressed the soft skin of her abdomen. "I like the way you've kept some of the fullness of your pregnancy," he whispered as he gently ran his fingers overher stomach.
"You do?"
"Mm-hmm. It looks good on you." He kissed her temple. "Would you ever go through that again?"
"Being a surrogate?"
"No. Having a baby...only this time you'd be able to keep him."
She felt an involuntary tremor shiver through her body. His arms tightened around her. "I can't answer that question. I don't know if I'll ever have the chance to have a baby."
"But if you had the chance?"
"I would love to have a baby of my own."
He leaned forward over her shoulder, trying to see her face, but she wouldn't cooperate and turn her head toward him. So he reached his hand up and touched her chin, turning her face so he could see it. She didn't resist. With a thumb, he wiped away the single tear that trailed its way down over her cheekbone. "Maybe someday," he whispered as he leaned her back and kissed her.
She broke the kiss and turned into him, drawing an unsteady breath. She rested her head against his chest, comforted by the feel of his heart beating beneath her cheek. "What about you, Bobby? Would you like a baby of your own?"
"Yes." He hadn't even hesitated. "Someday."
They fell into a comfortable silence. She nestled into his arms, head resting against his chest, and he held her, gently rubbing her back and watching the ocean waves break upon the sand. After awhile they decided it was time for dinner. He got up, helped her to her feet and, hand in hand, they left the beach.
