Infinity

By LMR

A.N.: I mention a brother briefly, and since I don't think the show gave her brother(s) names, I used the brother's name from 'Eight Ball, Corner Pocket' (a must read). Let me know if you want me to change the name, Dozen and One Stars.

Another A.N.: Wow! You mention Joe and everyone worries (or hopes) that you're going to go evil! I had this chapter finished first actually, and I never intended to say anything especially bad about him. If you guys think I should, I might indulge in a good game of Whack-a-Joe next time. I never wanted to hurt poor little Joe, who has already taken more abuse in fanfiction than Lynne Bishop and Nicole Wallace combined.

This chappie, and only this chappie is rated a little closer to T for sexual dialog. Maybe K++, I guess.

Chapter 3: One Moment With You

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"You couldn't pack a nightshirt? Geeze, Goren, are you trying to torture me?"

He smiled almost shyly. The first time they'd made love, she'd gone (in her words) "uncharacteristically gooey-eyed" over seeing a shirtless Bobby Goren. "You look like one of those gorgeous old marble statues," she'd said. "You know, the ones that have those dumb leaves sculpted over all the interesting parts."

"The leaves weren't really sculpted on. -Hmm.- Pope Pious went around. -Uhnn.- Long after they were sculpted and defac-"

"Useless information later. The Pope is not where I want your mind right now, 'k, Bobby?"

Bobby shook the memory, smiling, and came back to the present; in the guest room of Eames's sister's house, tormenting her with partial nudity. He jokingly offered, "If if would make you feel better, I could wear one of yours."

"No, I'll just try to control myself," she said with a completely serious face.

Alex settled deep into their bed, putting her arm over Bobby's shoulder, drawing her face up into his chest. "This is the best Christmas, Bobby. My family loves you. Nathan loves you. I haven't been happier since-"

"Please don't finish that sentence, Alexandra. It hurts me." His voice was strained and unnatural. He rolled away and refused to look at her. Alex could tell he was hiding tears. "I know it shouldn't, and it's sick and cruel and unfair and I wouldn't blame you a bit if you smacked me senseless for it, but you have no idea how much that hurts me. It feels like you're calling me...well, 'almost as good as the real thing.' A substitute."

This is really getting him, she thought. He had never once called her 'Alexandra,' except in those silly secret admirer notes that weren't supposed to be from him. Not in all the years they'd been partners, friends, then lovers. Not even during the lovemaking when she had a tendency to call him by all three full names and a few other flattering ones she came up with off the top of her head.

Those always made him laugh.

She had a pretty good idea of what this was about, but she didn't tip her hand on that yet. It was better to ignore the implication until she was sure that's what he meant. No sense opening a can of worms he hadn't though of.

"It hurts you when I say I haven't been happier since I was five and my biggest worry was that Seth was going to bury my Matchbox collection in a mud puddle?" she tried. It had, in fact, been exactly what she was going to say.

No fibbing.

And she would never say what he had been thinking.

He gave a mix of a sigh and laugh in relief as she forced him to roll back toward her. "No, not at all." He turned back, searched her eyes. Sure enough, she knew exactly what he'd meant. She wouldn't let it go now. "I am so sorry, Eames." His switch to her family name was not a distancing tactic as usual: He was reveling in the fact that his name was not and never had been a part of her identity. She's not yours. "Just... Never mind, Al."

"Can't never mind it." she said, kneading his shoulder reassuringly. "You always mind it. I see it in your pretty eyes, Bobby." She stroked his cheek sadly. "And it's something we need to talk about before... well, before too long." She could tell he was worried. "Bobby, please try to relax. I swear I won't say any of those things you're afraid to hear, because none of them are true. Just tell me what you feel, and I promise you I'll make it feel better."

He glanced up, hopeful. "I see those pictures, Alex. The ones you still keep around your place. Always staring at me and reminding me that even though you're the only one I could ever love, I'll only ever have half of your heart." She was near tears now, but somehow he couldn't be sorry it came up, even if it was hurting her. It had been paining him so long, he was pretty sure he had now shed nearly as many tears about Joe as she ever had. Tears about his own kind of loss, the kind of vague, intangiable, and purely hypothetical loss he was trying so hard to explain without hurting her or driving her away. "If you could, you'd undo it all. Undo everything I am to you.

"I'm not naive enough to claim that I can actually understand what happens...after, but sometimes I still wonder. If we both died tomorrow, who would you..." he couldn't finish.

We have got to work on these abandonment issues.

But it was a fair question. If the shoe were on the other foot, she'd want to know. And she knew what her honest answer would be.

Am I a horrible person, Joe, for being closer to him? she pleaded. I didn't set out to; it was just something that happened accidentally- suddenly I was more in love than... It's not like I can rank you as individuals, but our relationship is just... Please don't hurt because of this. I never want to make you hurt. But, hon, good as you were, you were never inside my head like he is. It just wasn't...

I can't help it. I can't draw a line and make sure I never love him an ounce more than I was able to love you. How can even I be thinking these things, Joe? I'm sor-

No. I'm not.

She was crying in earnest now, and could only hope that Bobby understood that her tears right now weren't mourning for someone she wanted back. It was guilt because she didn't. Everyone had taught her how to handle her grief: No one had told her how to handle not grieving.

Falling in love again would be okay. Everyone always told me to find someone to take his place (Who the hell came up with that disgusting expression anyway? Bobby is not an goddam placeholder!). But to be deeper in love than she ever thought possible with Joe... my poor dead husband who never did a thing to hurt anybody, who was murdered just for trying to do what was right...

and I'm laying here telling him that I love my new man better.

I can't believe how evil I am.

This conversation was making Alex feel like she was sitting in the Principal's Office.

Getting lectured by a Jewish mother.

Who had converted and become a nun.

This love is More. It's Deeper. And I only get to have it because he's not here. It's not like I'm glad he's...But it's good that he's not... And that's when it occurred to her what she really wanted. And in that moment, her guilt evaporated, because what she truly wanted wasn't sick or cruel at all.

I want him alive. And well. And somewhere else.

Irreconcilable differences, she told him plainly. And not just the fact that you're dead. (That's pretty damned irreconcilable.) I'm different, Joe, and you just wouldn't be right for me anymore. And let's face it, the new Alex isn't very good for who you were, either.

She stroked Bobby's cheek sadly, glad she could finally explain it all to him. "I am a completely different woman now, Bobby. He's not my husband, he's the husband of a woman that doesn't exist anymore. That woman is dead and gone and I don't miss her, either. I like the me I am now a lot better. And he's like an old friend that I hope is happy wherever he is. I think of him like that when I see his picture, I don't feel like I'm looking at my husband, and I'm not wanting him back with me." She paused, thinking. "He didn't deserve what happened, so I guess I would change that part if I could.

"And then I'd help him pack," she told Bobby gently. "I'd have to. He could never find his socks," she added matter of factly.

Bobby tried, really tried, but couldn't surpress the thought:

I always know where all my socks are.

She lifted Bobby's chin and forced him to look her right in the eye. "I need you to know this, Bobby: I would not take fifty more years with Joe if I had to trade it for one moment with you. This woman that exists now wants to keep you forever." She took a moment to let this sink in. "You got that?"

She looked him in the eye to make sure he was really okay, before she started to settle back into bed. "I never want you to feel like you have to worry about that. You're mine, and you're my keeper; the only one I want. Now get some sleep."

She turned out the light and turned in, making sure for both their sakes to snuggle up as close as she could get, leaving no space between them, brushing his jawline affectionately with her nose. She paused a moment, then decided to say something else that had come to mind. "He never even attempted to find...you know...the spot."

The one you find twice nearly every time. At least three times a week, she mused. "Feel better now?"

"Um, yeah," he said, surpised at what that little ego boost did to calm his worries. Never? Jerk.

"I do. And Alex," he added tentatively, wiping a stray tear off her eyelash. "It's not ever wrong to have any emotion. Don't ever think you should feel guilty about anything you feel."

God, I love this man.

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Excuse me while I go puke. I am never writing angst again. I am taking the next train out of Sap City and getting off in the Kingdom of Perpetual Fluff where I belong. Once I have compeleted this little journey, I will return with a new chapter.

Next Time:

Uncle Bobby. Those words shook him to his core in the best possible way. Bobby couldn't have children of his own because of the schizophrenia genes, and it was something that had hurt him a great deal. It had also kept him from more than halfheartedly pursuing a relationship. Until Alex. She'd already told him she didn't care about that.

He couldn't imagine anything better than sharing this beautiful child with Alex, even if only as their nephew+.