A/N: Again thanks for all the reviews - you guys are making me feel grat about this story- despite it being my first foray into the crime genre, lol.
Disclaimer: I do not own them, just take em out to play every once in a while.
"Sims is here – are you ready?" Bobby spoke softly, bending down to her ear so his voice was barely a level above a whisper. She glanced back, an eyebrow raised , and watched as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands tucked in his pockets and that gleam in his eye. The 'interrogation' gleam. Neither one of them really had Sims pegged as the murderer – but at the very least he had hindered their investigation – he should have told them.
"Aren't I always?" She murmured back, holding the manila file folder housing the complaint filed in front of her. She could literally feel the excitement rolling off him in waves, and it seemed to seep into her, making her own heart race. She fought to remain calm though – at the very least, she could never be more agitated than Bobby during their interrogations, and at best it paid for her to be the calm , centered one. God help us the day Bobby needs to be the calm one. She rolled her eyes slightly, turning on her heel so that she faced him. He drew back slightly.
"Bobby-" she began tightly, trying to figure out how exactly to word what she was about to say. She faltered, and the words didn't seem to materialize, so she wound up just staring into his eyes for a moment. He watched her watch him for a brief second, before nodding his head, and placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Eames, stop trying to think of how to say it- I already know. Sims is a Captain, and while he's technically breaking the law, we have no proof he's directly involved. Low key. I got it." He bent slightly as he spoke, the way he often did while addressing her, making her smile involuntarily. She had never met a tall person who went so out of their way to make shorter people feel more comfortable.
"Alright – that made it easier." She grinned wryly before turning and walking towards the interrogation room, with Bobby hot on her trail. He opened the door for her, and they walked in to find a very angry Captain Sims pacing the interrogation room.
"Why in the hell am I here, detectives?" He snapped, whirling and glaring as they entered the room. Bobby was silent, merely holding a hand up and smiling before pulling out a chair and offering it to her. She sat with a smile, and placed the file on the table in front of her – closed. Bobby chose to walk over to the corner directly opposite her, and leaned his large frame against the wall there, his arms crossed.
"You told us if we had any further questions.." Alex was the one who answered sweetly with a smile, her arms spread out from her sides in a 'what can you do?' gesture.
"I know that!" Sims snapped, continuing his pacing, back and forth, back and forth. She almost got dizzy just watching him. Oddly enough, Bobby just stood still, like a giant statue against the wall. It disconcerted her slightly to see him unmoving, but she brushed the feeling off and looked at Sims, whose face was a rather interesting shade of mottled reds and pinks. "Why am I in an interrogation room?"
"It's where we put the- persons of interest." Bobby spoke haltingly from his corner, his form unnaturally quiet.
"Persons of interest? I am not stupid Detective Goren – am I a suspect? Why in the hell would you think I killed Mark?" Sims broke his pacing suddenly, opting to yank the other chair out and sit forcefully, his palms on the table, pressing against the cold metal so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Interesting.
"Of course not sir!" Alex was all smiles again, attempting to assuage Sims' anger, and diffuse the tension a bit. "But you know how it is – we hit a snag in the investigation, and we want to check all the information – and naturally we like a third and fourth pair of eyes checking with us. It seemed pointless to have such a- crowded interview, don't you think?" She leaned forward slightly as she spoke, a conspiratorial smile teasing her lips, and she felt his eyes travel over her as he relaxed slightly.
"Well, I guess when you put it that way Detective-" he smiled as he spoke, sliding his palms out along the table until his hands were within inches of her. She watched him carefully, but wasn't worried. Bobby was almost directly behind Sims now, having inched along the back wall.
"Alright." She smiled once more, lowering her lashes and peeking through them coyly, all the while wanting to hurry up and get this over with. As much as she teased Bobby about never getting to be the 'good' cop – in reality she hated playing it. It was almost always for male suspects – and frankly she preferred being allowed to be who she was. A sarcastic bitch who would kick your ass if you didn't give the information she was looking for. "We wanted to ask again, Captain Sims – if there were any unusual cases Collier was working? Or any tension at work – reports, that kind of thing?" She gritted her teeth and smiled at him as she spoke. They had to give him an opportunity to come clean – he had to know by what she was asking that they had found something.
"No- just the usual cases. And like I told you – Mark got along with everyone. Is there a reason you're asking this? You don't suspect one of- one of my guys , do you?" He had leaned back a bit, his body language reading clearly confident, and it was at that moment Bobby chose to launch his attack. He stepped from the wall, silent and stealthy, rather like a large jungle cat stepping from it's cover. He almost startled her, he moved so soundlessly and swiftly. A fraction of a second later, and he was looming over the Captain crossing his arms and glaring down at him from his rather impressive full height.
"You know what I just hate?" He spoke in a conversational tone, his eyes flicking from Sims to her and back again. " I hate it when people play dumb, Captain. You're a cop- and you should know- that we wouldn't bring you in here without something. Now you tell me-" He paused grabbing a chair for the end of the table and pulling it over to Sims side, turning it backwards and straddling it swiftly. Now leaning forward, with his arms folded on the top of the chair, he continued on. "- you tell me, why we have you here."
"I don't- I don't really know." Sims stammered nervously, glancing at her in appeal. He leaned away from Bobby as he spoke, edging himself slightly right.
"You don't know?!" Bobby's voice rose an octave in volume and he turned towards her incredulously. "Eames- he- he doesn't know. Well then, I guess I'll have to show you why." His hand slapped down on the folder in front of them all, flipping it open and pulling the pink sheet out. He danced it in front of Sims, making it twist and prance merrily before the captain's eyes. "Recognize this?" He spoke in a jovial tone, still twisting his wrists to make the paper cavort in front of the other man's face. She shot him a quelling look – one glance that said 'enough Bobby' – and although he wasn't looking at her directly, he must have felt the weight of her gaze, because his hands dropped immediately, allowing the paper to float slightly before settling with a whisper in front of Sims' hands.
Sims' hands were shaking when he picked up the paper, and he looked paler for a moment, before glancing up at her. "What does this have to do with anything?" His eyes looked panicked and he seemed to seek reassurance from her.
"Well Captain-" she finally broke free from the soft smiles and understanding eyes for a moment, looking across the table at him shrewdly. "When I asked if anything 'unusual' happened, I would have counted you reporting your detectives to the IAB as 'unusual'." She leaned forward, waiting for his explanation. The Captain sighed heavily, looking down at the paper before him.
"Have you ever done something, Detective Eames- something that seemed right at the time but minutes later seemed monumentally stupid?" His voice was tired, and he seemed to shrink down in his seat, the very image of a tired, defeated man. She felt a wave of real sympathy for him – as she had intimate experience with making a stupid decision and wanting to take it back, She felt Bobby's eyes travel over to her, watching her reaction intently – simply because he knew where her thoughts lay at the moment.
"Actually – you'd be surprised." She responded dryly, a half smile gracing her face.
Sims looked up, and saw the understanding written in her eyes and smiled slightly, a sardonic twist of the mouth. "Being a Captain- it isn't as nice as you'd expect. My whole career I did the wrong thing- cut corners to make arrests- never followed the book- in fact I'm pretty sure the book and I hated each other. But someone – some idiot- thought I would make good Captain material. Mostly because my solve and collar rate was so damn high, I guess. And suddenly- suddenly I had these men and woman looking to me for leadership. A moral compass of what's right and wrong. It was like a huge cosmic joke. To make matters worse, I worked with the same teams, essentially – for ten years. AT that point Detective- it's not people who work for you- they're family."
She nodded knowingly, thinking of how often Jimmy called- and she still wasn't used to him pleading to be called that- now that he had left MCS. Five years with someone necessitated closeness. Plus Deakins just liked to know that she and Goren were alright – and the new guy hadn't given them grief. Bobby was watching Sims intently, nodding every few seconds, but staying uncharacteristically silent.
"I-" he sighed heavily, fingering the report with one hand and running the other over his face roughly. "They were different for the last few years – you know? Closer- their solve rate rocketed- so damn in tune it was almost scary. And there was always that voice at the back of my mind- telling me it was just different somehow. But I would dismiss it – of course they weren't- they wouldn't – at least not without saying anything to me first. I knew that. And then- then one day I was out on a Sunday – just coffee, nothing major- but i liked to walk, and it was nice out. And I saw them – coming from some medical building- they were- holding hands , and whispering, and you could just see by looking at them that there was more. And then I saw Mark's wedding ring." He spoke quietly, and she frowned slightly, glancing down at the report and reading upside down.
"You didn't put that in the report." bobby pointed out softly, before she could open her mouth to speak. "Why not?"
Sims reached up and scratched his head lightly. "I don't- don't really know. I was so angry- I felt betrayed. That it had gone that far- and had been going on for God knows how long- and they never told me? I would have fought for them- I would have understood." he whispered fiercely, blinking rapidly, the hurt still evident in his eyes. " I would have fought." He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck in agitation as he spoke. Closing his eyes for a moment, he carried on. "I was angry- I went to the office then and there and filed my report. I guess- even at the time I knew I didn't want them caught- so I left a lot out. But it was a moment of hurt and anger, I suppose. I sent it- and regretted it the next day. I wanted to take it back- but damn Smyth jumped on it- I swear that guy is slimier than most IA guys. He investigated, but I stonewalled it and no evidence was found."
"Smyth- what was your impression of him?" She asked thoughtfully, and Sims looked up and met her eyes.
"He was the scariest son of a bitch I had ever met within the confines of the force. You could tell- he was just zealous- one of those guys who thought partners getting drinks was a violation- that type thing. He was almost manic during his investigation- it was terrifying." His eyes were intense as he spoke and his voice was tight. Glancing over at Bobby, Sims radiated tension. "Are you looking at an inside guy?" His voice was clipped as he spoke.
"You know we can't discuss it, Captain." Alex's tone was regretful, and she picked up the paper and slid it back into the file. "Did you ever let Mark and MJ know – that it was you? That you knew?"
Sims looked back down at his hands, which were once again pressed into the metal table, as though he could push any feelings down with them, force himself to get under control. "No- I wanted to pretend I never saw anything. That they trusted me."
She stood slowly, picking the folder up and pausing for a moment. Bobby rose with her automatically, as usual, and walked around the table to stand behind her, his presence a comfort in the small room. "You should talk to her, Captain. She had her reasons- and she needs you now more than ever. You're all she has." With that, she turned on her heel, and walked through the door Bobby was holding open. She felt bad for the man behind her- he had done something that he couldn't take back- and she knew too well how that felt. Walking over to their desks she stopped only to drop the file on top of the other papers and carried on towards the washrooms. She heard Bobby call her name, but she just waved a hand over her shoulder, and escaped into the cool confines of the women's washroom.
Leaning over the sink and pressing a damp paper towel to her eyes tightly, she cursed inwardly. She was better than this- this stupid display of weakness on her part. She felt slightly sick, as though she were about to break in a nervous sweat, or throw up. Thankfully the room was blessedly empty. Having only three female detectives on the squad didn't exactly make for a busy female washroom. She rose up slowly, looking at her reflection in the mirror critically. She touched her hair slightly, knowing she needed a trim soon, but she was really liking it long lately and was reluctant to get it done. Her face was pale and drawn, lack of sleep creating dark shadows under her eyes, and a slight blueish tinge to her skin tone. It never ceased to piss her off that when they caught an extremely difficult case like this, that she always looked like crap and at most Bobby looked slightly disheveled. He would take off his tie during difficult cases- he always said it helped him breathe better and think clearer. She frowned slightly at her reflection. He hadn't been wearing it at all lately, not since before Jo Gage had taken a hand through her hair, she brought her hands down to rest on the cool porcelain of the sink and she leaned her weight on them, breathing in and out.
It wasn't the interview that had bothered her- but the tormenting thoughts of the letter she had written that rose again. Bobby had refused to discuss it last year when it had been brought up in the worst of circumstances. The look on is face when she read it out loud in court- her intentions to leave them, and him – had been etched into her mind for the last year. He would never let her explain- explain how hard it had been in the beginning, when he ran ahead of her and never stopped to see if she was following. When he never got her jokes, and she thought her eyes would fall out of head from rolling them so much at him, her only way of expression her frustration. He just mumbled about how lucky he was that she stayed when she mentioned it, and ignored anything else she tried to say.
How lucky he was that she stayed. Even when it was her fault, after all she had hurt him by not telling him, he still somehow managed to twist it around to suit his slightly narcissistic personality. It was about him when he spoke of it , and it irritated the hell out of her. He never even let her tell him what changed her mind. She concentrated on simply breathing for a moment, trying to clear thoughts of the letter out, and pull herself together before he came searching for her. And he would, he would have no problem walking into a female washroom, if only to ensure that she was alright. And she would be – when he came to check. She always was by then. Her moments of weakness were always just that- moments. Brief flashes of emotions that boil up and have to be stomped down. It felt like trying to climb a glacier in heels, she scrambled, with no grip and kept sliding down the steep incline.
She sighed softly, pressing her fingers into her eyes until she could see an awful acid green color spread over her lids. Sometimes- sometimes she was so tired of fighting it. Why not just slide? Just let go, and fall and see what happens? She shook with repressed laughter, knowing that she – Alexandra Eames, control freak extrodinaire- could never just slide. Hell, she couldn't let anyone control any aspect of her life- not her family, not her husband when he had been alive- not even her partner. She couldn't see what was beyond that edge, what was at the end of the long dark drop- and it terrified her. Sure , it could be soft down there, and all rainbows and roses and puppies- she snorted softly- but it could also be nothing but jagged rocks, waiting to tear her- tear them – apart. She leaned her forehead against the mirror, enjoying the feeling of cool beneath her heated skin and shut her eyes tightly.
"Eames?" She jumped, and cursed- she hadn't heard him come in, not until it was too late. She took one more breath before turning towards him, her calm facade sliding into place.
"Yes Bobby?" She smiled as she spoke, grabbing a paper towel and wiping her hands on it for effect.
"I was- I was worried." He tilted his head slightly and she groaned inwardly, recognizing the patented move that indicated his thoughts has stopped chasing each other and streamlined into one smooth continuous line, leading to a conclusion that no one else saw. "Are you alright?"
She bit her lip slightly, not wanting to lie- but not wanting to confess either. "It's just been a rough few weeks Bobby. Don't you think?"
His hand raised to his collar, unconsciously tugging on it, even though he hadn't had a tie on it in days. He sighed, and leaned against the other side of the mirror, squeezing his frame between the two sinks so he could face her. "Yeah- I do think." He laughed shortly, a bitter, rough sort of sound and watched her closely. "We can talk – you know that right? I would listen if- if you needed me to."
His face was close to hers, as he leaned across the sink between them and she closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling softly, the air carrying a sense of calm and a whiff of the soap he used. Part of her ached to just sit there with him, and strip herself bare in front of him. Let him see her thoughts, the things she fought so hard to keep away, and just place herself in his care- trusting him to find a workable solution. But it was too much to ask of him- he wouldn't be able to do what she needed. Her eyes opened and she looked across at him, so close that she could see the lines on his face, and how it looked like he hadn't shaved in three days instead of the usual one. She saw his eyes, soft and concerned and with that essential Bobby look to them – that even in his most convincing act of sympathy for suspects, never really penetrated his eyes. That look let her know that he really was concerned, and this was about them and not anything else. "Of course I know that Bobby." She responded softly, watching the shadow of pain cross his face at the length of time she had taken. "I just needed- I just needed-"
"To breathe?" He asks her carefully, once again just hitting on the heart of the matter without trying.
"Yeah." She smiled at his understanding, and straightened her frame off of the wall. He followed her example and she ran a hand through her hair, blowing out the breath in a steady stream. "So-" her tone turned brisk and his face fell into his usual demeanor, and in two seconds they were back to their usual ground, and she found a toehold in the slick surface of her life. "- did you find anything on Smyth?"
He opened his ever present binder, flipping through to find the notes he had scribbled recently. "Yeah- he's 42 yrs of age , risen quickly through IA – clean record-"
"Well you need one to be a rat." She spoke dryly and he glanced up for a moment, smiling in response to her quip.
"Very- very driven, I think. He was one of the youngest assigned to IA's investigation squad. He'll be- an interesting interview to say the least." He bent towards her as he spoke, and they leaned over his notes together.
"Yeah, interesting like a bad date." She spoke tiredly, looking up at him. Glancing at her watch, she bit her lip. "Well it's only 3 now- we could catch him at work if we leave now. What do you say? Want to take a drive?"
He nodded slightly, opening the door and walking behind her towards their coats, pulling hers off the rack first and handing it back before pulling on his own. Once they found themselves in the empty elevator, plummeting down to the parking garage, he leaned forward slightly, his head appearing over her shoulder. She glanced at him in question, and he shook his head silently, his face conflicted for a moment. "I'm.. glad you're okay, Eames." It was the best he could come up with, and she smiled slightly at him, before turning and walking out of the open doors.