Chapter 10

"So, Detective Eames, any bad dreams?" Dr. Emile Skoda moved a set of files from one side of his desk to the other.

Alex shifted slightly in her chair. She always had a skepticism of psychiatrists and psychologists: her time with Bobby had oddly increased both her respect for what they could do and her skepticism. Pressed by her superiors and some of her family, she had seen a psychiatrist briefly after Joe's death. That psychiatrist had not impressed or helped her. But Alex liked Skoda. He was no-nonsense, down-to-earth, blunt perhaps, but Alex found their encounters on cases valuable. And she knew that Bobby, who had more experience than most people in this area, respected Skoda.

"No," Alex replied. "No bad dreams. It's surprised me, really, I keep expecting them. But I'm sleeping remarkably well. It's as if...well, it's as if one of the worst things that I could imagine happened, and it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It's like it's over and done with."

Skoda studied her for a moment. "Sounds pretty healthy to me. So why are you here? Department requirement?"

Alex nodded and quietly considered how much she could tell Skoda.

"There's something else?" he asked.

Alex cautiously moved into the jungle. "Yes, my partner."

Skoda gave a quick smile. "Ah, Detective Robert Goren—the genius of Major Case. One of my colleagues described a dinner to me that she had with him. She got the impression he know more about psychology, particularly criminal psychology, than she could ever hope to know. And she has her office lined with degrees from most of the Ivy League."

Alex felt a tinge of anger, although she wasn't sure if it was driven by jealousy (the woman sounded like a former girlfriend) or fear that Bobby was being taken for granted.

"He works very hard," Alex said, "it's not that he just spins these things out of the air."

"I didn't mean to suggest that," Skoda said. "I've seen him in action—I agree—he works very hard. And now..."

"He's..." Alex considered her words carefully. "Physically, he's doing great...he should be able to go home within the week...And I don't think he's afraid of anything happening to him...But..." Alex leaned forward. "Look, he did everything he was supposed to. He saved the civilian's life. Given the circumstances, we did everything we could to protect ourselves. I've thought hard about this, Doctor, I really have. And I don't think...I'm pretty sure I'm not holding any hidden feelings of resentment or anger towards him. But he can't...won't...talk to me. I think he's guilty about what happened to me. And I'm afraid..." Alex paused. She was afraid of so many
things. "I'm afraid it will destroy our partnership...and that means...it's so good..."

Skoda sensed there were many things Alex Eames had left unsaid, but that she had revealed all that she could or would. "I don't sense any hidden or suppressed anger on your part, Detective. As for your partner, you may just have to wait...he's exceptionally bright, and he'll figure things out."

"What if he doesn't," Alex said more to herself than to Skoda. "What if I can't wait?"

"Then you'll have to make a very difficult decision," Skoda replied.

"One of the things I don't like about psychiatrists and psychologists," Alex thought as she left Skoda's office, "is that they don't make you feel better. I thought that was their job." She snorted to herself. One of the first late night/early morning dinner/breakfasts conversations she had shared with Bobby involved a long discussion about the role of psychiatry. "It's not always meant to make you feel better," Bobby said to her, "It's meant to get you to think more clearly about yourself. And that's not often pleasant."

Alex hailed a cab and headed, as she had every day for the past month, to the hospital. Outside the hospital, as she had every day for the past month, she stopped to buy the TIMES, the POST, and the DAILY NEWS and two large coffees. Today would be a very good day; she didn't have to face a physical therapy session. Alex headed up to Bobby's room. She smiled and nodded at the nurse at the station.

"He have a good night?" Alex asked.

"Well, as good as any," the nurse replied. "He'll probably be a little worn out...he had a PT session this morning."

"Well, maybe the coffee will help," Alex said.

"I'm glad you bring that in...sometimes I think it's the only thing we can get into him. You know," the nurse said, "we all love him...he's sweet and polite and smart and funny...he'll do anything we ask of him and never makes any demands...but it's all we can do to get food inside of him...I hope somebody will make sure he eats when he gets home next week."

"I will, if no one else does," Alex said firmly. "Next week...they're talking about next week?"

"Yes," the nurse replied. "I'm glad you're looking out for him...and I can tell you he really looks forward to your visiting him every day...you mean a lot to him...makes some of us jealous, the way he talks about you."

Alex smiled at the nurse. She liked the nurses who were taking care of Bobby, and liked that they liked her. As she walked down the hall, Alex realized these daily visits had been an anchor in the last month. They had sustained her through her own recovery, the pain and monotony of her therapy sessions, and recently through the mounds of paperwork she had to deal with while on desk duty. She and Deakins were no longer Bobby's only visitors. Lewis appeared every two to three days, often bringing photos of his latest project. During his last visit he had flirted with Alex, and she had been surprised and rather pleased to see a shadow of jealousy streak across Bobby's eyes. Alex had her moments with the green monster as well. Two of Bobby's former girlfriends, both tall, both willowy, both brunettes, visited him. Alex found herself standing in the hallway waiting with one.

"You probably think this is weird—visiting an old boyfriend," the brunette said.

"Well, not necessarily," Alex replied.

"It's just...look, I love my fiance...I'm very happy...but Bobby was...special. It's just that I felt like every time I got him to open a door, there was another one closed in front of me. And I just couldn't keep trying to unlock those doors, you know?"

"I do know," Alex thought as she approached Bobby's door. Throughout the past month she felt as if Bobby was shutting and locking doors, doors she thought they had already opened. Alex took a deep breath, knocked and entered the room.

He was glad to see her...he was always glad to see her, even when it seemed he couldn't open to her. Bobby sat up in bed. He looked tired and thin—she'd have to work on getting him to eat—but his color was good. He had shaved that morning, and he looked impossibly young. She handed him the coffee; he thanked her. She gave him the TIMES, and sat down in the chair next to him. For an hour they sat in a contented silence, broken only occasionally when they read each other something or asked for a section of the paper.

Alex looked up at Bobby. The sunlight hit him and gave him a gentle glow. He was beautiful, and Alex felt her heart and body yearn for him. She wanted him more than anything in the world. She wanted him around her, in her, to feel him, to hear him, to touch him. The strength of her desire took her breath away. Her physical need for Bobby had been suppressed by her own recovery and her concern for him; its sudden return knocked her off balance. "I'm so glad he's alive," Alex thought.

"Bobby," she said.

"H-m-m?" he replied, still absorbed in the paper.

Alex stood up and moved to the bed. "Please..." She took his hand. "I need you...please...kiss me..."

Surprised, Bobby looked at her. "Alex?"

"Please...kiss me..." Alex sat on the edge of the bed and kissed him. She moved carefully; bandages still covered his wounds and she didn't want to hurt him. His body responded to hers. Bobby wrapped his free left arm around her. He returned her kiss, his tongue gently opening her mouth. Alex moaned into the kiss, and let her hand slip inside Bobby's shirt and her fingers play on his stomach and chest. Bobby groaned and let his left hand slip inside Alex's blouse to touch her breasts.

Alex winced. Bobby broke the kiss and contact. He pulled back and stared at Alex.

"Oh, God, Alex...I'm sorry..."

"It's ok...just tender..." Alex touched his left arm. She was dizzy from the kiss and the need to have more contact with Bobby.

"No...I hurt you...please..." Bobby pulled away from her as much as he could.

"Bobby...it's just...you hit a tender spot...I want you...need you..." Alex felt desperation rise in her.

"I keep hurting you..." Bobby said softly.

"No..." Alex took his face between her hands. "You do not keep hurting me...the only way you hurt me is when you shut me out."

Bobby swallowed and tentatively raised his left hand to touch Alex's hand on his cheek. "I'm sorry...I..."

"Bobby, just tell me what you feel...just be honest..."

"I...I don't know what... so much...I'm so scared..." Bobby trembled and then fell into Alex's arms. "I know... I think I know what's happening," he whispered into her shoulder. "I know...what you and Deakins and everyone says...I know I did the right thing...but I keep seeing you...lying there...and...not being able to do anything..."

"It was terrible for me, too," Alex held him. "We have to work this out...I can only tell you that I can't lose you because of this...

Bobby turned his head so that Alex could see his eyes. "I...I don't know if ...I can bear to go through this...even the chance of losing you..."

There was a knock at the door.

"Detective Goren?" Ron Carver's smooth voice asked.

End Chapter 10