Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Goren and Eames belong to Dick Wolf and
company.

Bobby and Alex are involved. Issues result.

Alex gently released her hand from Bobby's. She wrapped both hands around her iced tea and stared into its depths.

"How does she do this?" Bobby thought. "I just want to...to talk...and make everything better...do something." He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It...have you noticed that nightmares always seem silly when you talk about them?" Alex said softly.

"Yea," Bobby replied. "The monsters always have purple dots or something."

She glanced at him and smiled, and then returned to studying her tea. "There were no monsters...just this terrible grey place. I couldn't find you...there was something hunting us...I fell...I lost my gun...I...I...got shot..." Alex seemed on the verge of tears, but managed to control her emotions. "It didn't hurt...there was a lot of blood, but it didn't hurt. The blood was the only thing that seemed to have color in it...It was this terrible bright red…And then you came running out of the fog...and I couldn't warn you...I couldn't get my voice to work...and the thing...shot you...you were in pain...terrible pain...and you were calling to me...and I couldn't answer...couldn't help you...There was all of this red..." Tears began rolling down Alex's face.

Bobby gently took the tea from her and sat it on the table next to her bed. He wrapped his arms around her and held her. "You woke up then" he said into her hair.

She nodded.

"Well," Bobby said, "it's not unusual...not unusual sort of dream for cops. Getting hurt...it's the elephant in the room...and when you're involved with a cop..." Bobby stopped. He wasn't sure how far to press this.

Alex looked up at him and studied his face. "Bobby," she said, "do you mind...my husband...Joel...do you mind...talking about him."

"Of course not, Alex. He's part of what...what made you what you are."

She continued to examine him closely.

"This must be something like what it feels like when I..." Bobby thought.

"You never ask about him." Alex's statement was neither angry nor sad, just matter of fact.

"I didn't think...I had the right...that was your life, and it was your decision to tell me or not."

"Thank you," she said. "But part of you is just dying to know something, right?"

"Well," Bobby answered, "I have to confess...I'm not proud of it...but yes."

She slipped out of his embrace and walked to the large chest that sat at the foot of her bed. She lifted the blankets resting on it and raised the lid. The sweet fresh smell of cedar filled the room. Alex gazed at Bobby over the open lid.

"You're sure? You don't mind?"

Bobby nodded. "I'm sure...I won't deny it might feel strange, but I'm sure."

Alex disappeared behind the open chest. Bobby stood up and watched as she began lifting several photo albums and carefully wrapped packages. She handed them to Bobby, who laid them carefully on the bed. When she finished, Alex closed the lid and walked to the other side of the bed. She sat down and motioned for Bobby to sit. He perched carefully on the edge.

"These pictures," she said opening one album, "are from our days at the Academy." Bobby saw photos of an impossibly young looking Alex Eames, nearly dwarfed by other police and swimming in her uniform. There were also several photos of a handsome young man with reddish blonde hair and blue eyes who could have been the center of a recruitment poster.

"Joe," Alex said, and in those few letters Bobby heard love, regret, and a touch of anger. "He was the perfect recruit—graduated in the top five—always well turned out for inspection—always knew the right answer to every regulation. Funny, easygoing. I was always in trouble—sassing instructors—asking questions—arguing about regulations. He came from a family of cops—father, brother, uncles, grandfather—like me. I think it was our differences and our similarities that brought us together." She shut the album and lifted another, this one clearly a wedding album.

"You were a beautiful bride," Bobby said, and in the white laced Victorian gown Alex Eames was a glorious vision.

Alex smiled at him. "The whole thing got out of control—just having all of Joe's and my brothers and sisters to account for meant it was going to be a monster wedding. And it was Catholic, and his pastor had to be there, and the pastor of my parent's church, and all of the nieces and nephews—it was insane, Bobby, absolutely insane."

Bobby peered at one picture. "Is that...Deakins?"

"Yea, and if you look at some others you can see the Commissioner at that time. Joe was already a rising star."

There was a slight edge to her voice Bobby couldn't quite identify. "And you?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, I was still a beat cop...but I had just gotten in with a great group of cops who were breaking up some drug operations." She studied the wedding photos. "The year after we got married Joe passed his sergeant's exam and got assigned to the Chief's office. The squad I was with got a major bust. The next year I got my gold shield. Meant I had to join vice, but I loved it—I was a NYPD detective. It was lousy work sometime, but I worked hard, got lucky and made second grade."

Alex pushed the wedding album away and brought forth another album. There were pictures of her and Joe in front of a small house, on a beach, with her and his family. She looked at Bobby and then at the photos. "We bought a house—we talked about kids. But..." Alex gnawed briefly on her lower lip. "Joe's career seemed stalled...and I really liked what I was doing...and...I wanted kids, but I didn't think...I wanted, and I thought kids deserved...full attention...There was some pressure from my family...a lot from his...that's part of the reason I'm really not in contact with them much...Joe heard that one of the reasons he wasn't moving up was because there was a perception he didn't have enough street credits...so, he did some finagling, and got his gold shield...got assigned to a good squad..."

Alex sighed.

"He was a good man, Bobby, and a good cop. He never resented me...that I outranked him...he understood why I wanted to wait to have kids...But he...he never thought outside the box...you would have driven him crazy...he never understood why the buddy-boy network made me so angry...if you're a cop, you trust other cops was the way he worked...and it got him killed."

She paused, and turned the pages of the album. There were clippings about Joe's death, his funeral. Photos of ranks of uniformed police, Alex in black at the funeral.

"That's his mother," she pointed at a hysterical woman in one photo. "I never liked her much...she never liked me...Joe wasn't that fond of her, either, truth be told. She went ballistic at the services, and later told me I must be a cold bitch because I didn't break down..."

"What!" Bobby was furious.

"She didn't understand...that I was numb...just numb...and that part of me thought I had to...I couldn't show my feelings...I'd be weak...She wasn't part of a cop's family…She married into it…And she was hurt and angry." Alex closed the album and carefully lifted a triangular box.

"This is the flag that was on his coffin," she said, "and this," she lifted a red carnation preserved in plastic wrap, "is from the bouquet." Alex fingered the carnation. "You know," she said more to herself than Bobby, "I cried like a baby when I put these things away...It was the one time I really cried...could let myself...no one else was around..."

Bobby reached out and placed a hand on hers. She smiled at him. "I'm ok," she said, "just...it's just interesting that these things...they don't stir up much more than a mild interest in me right now..."

Alex stood up and opened the chest. Bobby handed her the packages and albums.

"What's this?" he asked as he handed her a small box.

Alex opened it and fingered the small object. "It's...it's Joe's badge." She held it up for Bobby to see. There were small red splotches on it. Bobby winced. Alex stared at it. "It seemed important," she said "that I not clean it up...is that weird?"

"No," Bobby said softly. "You...needed to preserve something..."

"Yea, I guess so." Alex tenderly rewrapped the box and placed it in the chest. She shut it, stood in thought for a moment, and walked to Bobby. She sat next to him.

"The nightmares started about a week after the funeral. Joe was in trouble, calling for me. I couldn't get to him. Pretty simple, basic stuff. I knew what was going on in my head...didn't make it any easier." She stared at a pattern in the floor.

"No, it doesn't," Bobby said softly.

Alex looked up at him. "I threw myself into work...maybe not the best way, but it was what I knew...and it worked...after a while the dream went away...it'd come back...when I shot the gangster...and when I was pregnant a different version showed up...this time the baby was in trouble, and I couldn't reach it...and now..." Alex reached for Bobby's hand. "Now it's you."

Bobby held her hand. "I...I have the same sorts of dreams about you...I think it's...it's just one of the consequences of our relationship."

Alex ran her thumb on his. Bobby thrilled at her touch. "What if...what if the cost is too much?" she whispered.

Bobby shuddered. "I...don't know...I..." He swallowed. "I can only...Alex, I can't imagine the cost ever being too high for me...but..."

Alex smiled at him. "I guess we just keep dealing with things as they come...it's worked so far..."

"Yea," Bobby said. He was tired, confused and afraid. Alex sensed his exhaustion and confusion.

"We don't have to settle tonight...this morning...we can talk about it more later..." she said.

"Definitely," Bobby replied. "I mean...we've opened something...I don't want to close it."

"Ok," Alex said, pushing Bobby back on the bed.

"Ok," Bobby replied.

"Thank you, Bobby."

End Chapter 3

And I apologize for the long sidetrip into my speculations on Alex's husband, etc.