You know, I was puzzling about how to go about this next chapter, because in 8 parts, all I've been doing is upping the ante and avoiding certain shippy fanfic inevitabilities. I found myself momentarily concerned about how I could possibly continue this fic in a fashion I would like to, while still pleasing you, my lovely (and reviewing -- thank you!) readers. Then it hit me... what the hell could I write that you guys wouldn't like?
Critics or advocates, no one disputed the brilliance of Detective Robert Goren, but no one met Goren while he was half asleep, either. Certainly, while certain strokes of genius hit him at odd times, during sleep, or while waking up in the shower, this was not such a moment in time, and such moments, while not rare per se, were not the norm, either.
So, it didn't entirely compute that his partner, Detective Alexandra Eames, a woman he respected both as a colleague and as an individual, was in his bed, asleep. All that computed was that a small, soft warm body was snuggled up against him. His arm cradled her, and pulled her closer, so that her head nestled under his chin, and half of her was on top of him.
With the shift in position, she moved her leg over his, and felt his hips shift under her. She sighed softly in her sleep, his warm chest rising and falling softly below her.
It was at this moment that both detectives achieved a state of consciousness that, while a far cry from wide awake, could best be described as "growing awareness." As it dawned on them what their predicament was -- tangled in bed with one another -- two other important facts revealed themselves to both individuals.
1. Goren was sporting a healthy and uncomfortable erection.
2. Eames had evidently removed her pants before climbing into bed.
While both persons involved were undeniably intelligent, rationale people, who used both logic and reason on a daily basis in both professional and personal lives, both Goren and Eames independently and simultaneously adopted the same exact approach: Pretend It Isn't Happening.
Arguably, this is not a rationale or effective method of responding to a situation. Furthermore, both could tell you first hand that this method inevitably ends badly, yet both embraced it with gusto.
If you have ever been in a situation where you have been compelled to freeze, without moving, for any extended period of time, it suddenly becomes desperately important to shift. One also becomes increasingly aware of just where every part of them is, and what is touching what. For instance, if you are to freeze and hold your position now, you'll find your mind wandering to where your feet are, what your fingers are touching. If you're sitting on something you initially thought was comfortable, it will slowly become not-as-comfortable.
This is exactly what happened to our heros. It began to dawn on both of them, as the pressing need to move began to settle upon them, that they were equally trapped. Goren had his arm securely around Eames. Likewise, her leg pinned him, her thigh pressed intimately against him.
As both thought about the foolishness of their predicament, and really, how truly innocent it was, despite the unfortunate tangle they'd gotten into, it became obvious that someone was just going to have to break the ice.
"Well, I guess you won the bet."
"I think you lost that bet." Both said at once.
Within seconds, they were untangled.
"But.. I'm not entirely sure who should be buying whom the drinks." Eames raised an eyebrow from across the bed.
Fin.
