A/N: I know, I know, I know! My muse is on summer vacation, I think. That's the only reason I can think of for why I have had zero story inspiration lately. White Hat's still not forgotten, either...just in desperate need of a short-term plotline.
The group walked out of the Medical Examiner's building together, but Goren grabbed his partner's wrist before she could follow the two FBI agents, who had started down the sidewalk toward the bar they'd come from. "Wait," he said quietly.
She'd been concentrating so hard on pretending he wasn't there that she couldn't pull herself to a stop in time and ended up yo-yoing backward with a startled gasp as his grip on her reversed her momentum. "Bobby!"
Her yelp alerted the agents, who were halfway down the block by that time, and they turned in unison to see what was wrong. "Alex?" Kratzer called concernedly. Without waiting for a response, both men started back toward where Goren and Eames stood.
Goren gave her wrist another tug, trying to regain her attention. "I need to talk to you," he said in a forceful whisper, keeping one eye on the approaching men and one eye on her. "Without them."
"I don't think tonight is -"
Before she could get out the rest of the protest, Kratzer jogged the last few feet between them and put a hand on her other arm. "What's going on?"
She shook off his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. "Nothing. We're just talking."
"Well, you can talk to him tomorrow," Straub said as he appeared beside Kratzer. "Tonight, Ted and I owe you a few more drinks."
Goren still hadn't relinquished his hold on her, and shot him a pointed look, hissing, "Let go!" as she gave her arm a shake.
He just shook his head and tightened his grip.
"Alex?" Kratzer prompted, eyeing Goren's hand with obvious displeasure. "You coming?"
She glanced at him, then at Goren, whose eyes were silently entreating her to get rid of the men. "I, uh . . . you guys go ahead. I'm about ready to call it a night."
Kratzer, no idiot, just crossed his arms and gave her a look that demanded an explanation.
Trying not to squirm under his knowing scrutiny, she cleared her throat and glanced again at her partner, who was watching her closely. "Really, Ted," she finally said, "I'm tired. You guys can go. Bobby'll make sure I get home ok."
"That," Straub said, his eyes on the hand Goren still had on her and his voice dripping with contempt, "is what we're afraid of."
She shook off her partner's hand and moved to stand in front of Straub, giving him a warning look. "Go. Away," she ordered with quiet vehemence. "I told you before, I'll be ok with him."
The two agents exchanged looks, then seemed to mutually reach a tacit decision. "Ok," Kratzer told her reluctantly. "But we're keeping our phones on. Just, you know . . ." He glanced over his shoulder at Goren. "Just in case."
Relaxing slightly now that she'd won, she just rolled her eyes at him. "Right, 'just in case.' Good night, guys."
"What did Straub mean, 'that's what he was afraid of'?" Goren asked warily as they settled down into a pair of seats in a nearly-empty subway car ten minutes later.
That was the last thing she wanted to discuss tonight. "Nothing," she muttered shortly.
"Alex."
She sighed. "When he walked in on us in the break room . . . it just looked bad, ok?"
He stared at her, mildly horrified by the realization of what he must have appeared to Straub to have been doing. "He, uh . . . I mean, I'm sorry about that."
"I know you are." Not sure what else to say, she looked down at her hands, which were worrying the fabric of her jacket, and fell silent.
"I shouldn't have cornered you. I . . . got distracted."
"Bobby," she sighed, pulling a loose thread out of the seam of her coat, "I know. Just leave it."
"Sorry." And then, before he could stop himself, he reached out and took hold of her hand, pulling it away from the thread she was worrying. "You're going to end up with a shredded hem."
She stared at their joined hands for a second, then gave her head a little shake and looked up at him. "What?"
"Your jacket. If you keep pulling on that thread, you're going to unravel it," he told her. Then, deciding to take a chance, he hesitantly threaded his fingers through hers and brought their hands to rest on his knee.
"Bobby . . ."
"I'm sorry about Danielle," he broke in before he could lose his nerve. "How she treated you tonight, I mean . . . and . . . and me not noticing it earlier."
Almost without realizing it, she held her breath, waiting for him to continue into the most important part of the apology he owed her, but he didn't. When it became clear after a few seconds that he just wasn't going to, she let the breath out quietly, pulled her hand out of his, and inched away from him on the seat.
"Alex?" he asked, confused by the unexplained movement.
"This was a bad idea."
"What?" When she didn't respond, he followed her move, sliding across the seat toward her. "You mean coming with me tonight? Why?"
She shook her head and moved away again.
"If you keep doing that, you're going to fall off the end of the seat," he pointed out with a tentative smile. "And I don't know if I can move fast enough to catch you."
"Bobby, don't," she snapped, getting to her feet as gracefully as she could in the swaying car and moving to a seat across the aisle from him.
"Don't what? I'm trying to apologize!"
She gave him an incredulous look. "You really have no idea why I'm upset, do you?"
"I . . ." He stood up and, using the pole that ran the length of the car above his head for balance, crossed the aisle and leaned down to look into her face. "No, I guess I don't."
"Figures," she sniffed, crossing her arms and looking away again.
"Alex, come on. I'm trying to make peace. Tell me what I need to do."
Her first instinct was to give him a cold, I'm not discussing this here, but when she reminded herself that she was stuck with him at least until they reached his stop and she could turn around and flee back into the tunnels, she knew that just ignoring the issue would take her nowhere. Finally, she sighed, ran a hand through her hair, and turned her head back toward him. "Are you sorry you slept with her?"
He blinked. "What?"
"It's a self-explanatory question. Answer it."
"I . . . that's what you're upset about?" he asked disbelievingly.
Alex just stared stonily at him, but an elderly Asian woman in the corner of the car, who had appeared to be asleep when they boarded, suddenly spoke up. "You tell her 'yes, you sorry,'" she ordered loudly, sounding very much like a stern grandmother trying to imbue her grandchild with manners. "Your own fault, for sleep with other woman."
Both detectives gaped at her, earning themselves a beatific smile in return before she turned away, tucked her head into her shoulder, and appeared to fall back into a peaceful sleep.
Bobby swallowed nervously and turned his eyes back to his partner. "Alex, I -"
"Stupid men," the old woman trumpeted cheerfully without looking up, startling both of them.
Trying to fight the smiles that were threatening, they both eyed her for a long moment, waiting for the next outburst, but it never came; this time she seemed to be truly unconscious.
"Alex," Bobby tried again, more quietly, "if that's what you're upset about . . . I thought . . . I mean, I just figured you understood . . ."
Going back to the thread she'd been playing with, she kept her eyes down. "Understood what?"
"The night with her . . ." He sighed. "I thought it was obvious that it's the biggest mistake I've made in . . . well, in a long time."
"Obvious to me, maybe," she replied. "But to you?"
Moving slowly in case she decided to lash out, he lowered himself into the seat next to her and pulled her hand away from her jacket again, this time keeping a hold on it when she tried to move away. "I was using her as a replacement to begin with," he said haltingly. "And she took it . . . that, uh, night . . . as a license to hurt you. And I let her."
Alex waited.
"And then I hurt you by letting you find out about it. It . . . the whole thing was stupid of me."
"Oh."
"Alex?" He tightened his grip on her hand and leaned forward, trying to see her downturned face. "Am I doing . . . I mean, is this what you wanted to hear?" Her response was more silence, and he sighed and leaned closer to try again. "Come on, please."
Without moving any other part of herself, she turned her head to look at him. "Is this for real, or are you making it up as you go along because you know it's what I want to hear?"
With her facing him now, his lips were only inches away from hers, and he couldn't resist the urge to steal a kiss.
"Bobby!" she gasped, half out loud and half into his mouth, and raised one hand to grip his shoulder.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to allow him to take her chin in his hand, and smiled slightly. "This . . . is . . . for real," he murmured, dropping a light kiss on her lips after each word. "Believe me, Alex. Please."
Her hand slid up from his shoulder to loop around his neck and she leaned her weight into him. "I think I do," she sighed before tipping her head up for another kiss.
"Smart man!" the old woman called approvingly, lifting her head to smile at them. "You figure it out eventually."
Unable to help themselves, even in the middle of a kiss, both detectives burst out laughing.
