Disclaimer:All of the characters are the property of Dick Wolf. I thank him, the writers, the directors and all the great actors who brought them "to life" for our benefit. Any "liberties" I have taken with them stems from my fond admiration (and a few personal quirks I will seek "help" for).

AN: This story is not set within the accepted "canon" for the characters as it is only officially portrayed by the TV series. So I get to "fool around" with them in ways in which they've never been seen, stretching that to the limit and suspending the "reality" that is "fiction" to start with…now there's a contradiction in terms!!!

(And yeah Goren I know the proper word for that is oxymoron…of course I have a "nice surprise" for you later big boy…we're going Christmas shopping…)

PHEIDIPPEDES

Bobby groaned softly not sure how long he could keep going. But when the male ego is at stake it's surprising what reserves you can draw on. Of physical effort, of lessons you learned along the way in life and whilst it might be something of a cliché, thinking about his grandmother might have helped too.

His breath was ragged, coming in deep gasps as suddenly he heard Alex. "Yes! Yes! Oh my God Bobby! Yes!" she cried out. A mixture, it sounded to him, of deep satisfaction and joy and maybe a little surprise thrown in he wasn't about to be offended by.

He surrendered himself to the moment as his own body reached the end and the world vanished. Like in a faint only much, much better. Waves of hot and cold through every fibre of his being, crashing ashore somewhere deep inside. Bringing in the same rhythm, that mix of peaceful pleasure and sensations had an exquisite pain to them. The sounds from him a cross between a growl and a whimper before he went totally limp.

When he opened his eyes Alex was smiling at him. "You okay Goren?" she asked.

Bobby's heart was still thumping in his chest and his breathing ragged as he looked up at her "I guess". He swallowed dryly. "Or I will be. Give me a moment or maybe a month"

Alex chuckled. "Don't feel like going round again then?"

"Sure" he raised himself on one elbow "Mind is willing but the flesh is weak though Alex" he took a deep and shuddering breath. "I'm afraid you are on your own. Have fun. Send me a postcard"

"Here" she held out her hand which was cool and dry compared to his hot and damp one. He took it as she helped him to his feet.

"Thanks" Bobby said hoping the trembling in his legs wasn't too obvious.

"And thank you" he said to one of those marshals. Who checked the number on his shirt, handed him his medal for completing the "New York Marathon" and one of those silver foil blankets.

He let Eames help him put it round his shoulders. He felt like last year's left overs of Thanksgiving turkey as they made their way through the finish area to where the NYPD runners were all gathering together. It was chaotic with those annoying men and women really did look like they had just been through a stroll in Central Park. Doing warming down exercises. Next to others, who lay on the ground looking worse than some corpses he'd seen. A few with concerned friends and family around them and some on all fours vomiting amid water bottles, sponges, discarded numbers and the abandoned running shoes. Shoes of those who got sense, said "Never again" and would all be back again next year.

"You owe me two hundred bucks by the way," he said as Alex handed him a bottle of water.

"I know" she shrugged. "Will tomorrow do? I don't seem to have my chequebook on me right now"

"I'll take a credit card " Bobby took a mouthful, rinsed and spat. "Or cash. I may have finished the damn race but I'd like to collect quickly. Spend it just in case the only place I end up tomorrow is the coronary unit at Mercy Hospital"

Alex laughed softly. "You'll be fine. Or are you going to tell me those were the last words Lincoln heard his doctor say?"

"Dunno" Bobby smiled and then frowned, as they got closer to the NYPD bunch. "Where's Elliot?"

"Last I saw him was around mile ten" said Eames "Expected him to finish ahead of you to be honest"

"You mean you expected him to finish and me not to" he shrugged. "I'm not exactly built for the Marathon am I?"

"I'm still down a couple of hundred bucks Bobby. Did you see him at all?"

"At the mile 18 First Aid Station. When I stopped to get some blisters popped"

"Eeuw!!" she wrinkled her face. "Gross. Spare me the details please"

"The blisters have got blisters now. Stabler's problem seemed to be chafing" Bobby announced with a slight gleam in his eyes.

Eames glanced at him. "Doesn't he know to rub his nipples with Vaseline?"

"Wasn't his nipples that were chafing" he grinned. "And anything of mine is my business"

His partner sniggered "You are hobbling a bit"

"That's my tendons. They currently stretch from here to Brooklyn" Bobby winced, deciding not to tell his partner Elliot Stabler now owed him five hundred bucks.

He limped on through the scatter of Marathon debris and leaves of yellow, gold and red. Thinking of spring and the ticket plan for Shea next season seven hundred bucks would buy. It was what kept him going every lousy step of the Vaseline laden 26 miles 385 yards.

Bobby removed his running shoes, saying "Never again" and meaning it. Thinking of the sounds of spring. The thwack of a baseball hitting a catcher's leather mitt and umpires calling strikes. And the only blisters those a pitcher might get perfecting a split fingered curveball. It helped a lot with the pain.

AN : I'm really looking forward to the New York Marathon…I've got the big tub of "Vaseline" with Bobby's name on it…