Lex Talionis – Chapter 6

The warm spray of the shower sluiced her body as she stood, eyes tightly closed, waiting for her trembling to subside. She'd started to shampoo her hair, but her hands shook so badly that the slippery bottle had dropped to the tiled floor and she left it there while she tried to rein in her emotions.

What the hell was that?

You know what it was, Alex – exactly what you've been asking for all evening.

You're the one who chose to wear your sport bra without your usual tee-shirt over it. You're the one who couldn't stop secretly watching him as he worked out – the way his back muscles flexed beneath his shirt when he adjusted the weights on the universal equipment. The bulge of his biceps while he did his bench presses. His taut thighs working smoothly as he jogged on the treadmill. And the whole time he was apparently oblivious to your presence. You know it was his oblivion that prompted your provocative comment about Terry. Bobby was happily ignoring you and you had to stir things up by 'casually' mentioning your sex life.

And, oh my god, did you really let him catch your wrists? You both know he's stronger but you're quicker. You could have easily danced out of his way. God, Alex, you're pathetic. A few erotic dreams about your partner and now you're trying to…

To what?

Well, I don't know exactly, but it sure as hell shouldn't be THAT.

Still shaking and feeling miserable after her internal argument, Alex stooped down to pick up the shampoo bottle, squirted some of the fragrant liquid into her palm, and began scrubbing at her scalp more forcefully than was totally necessary. A fragment of the song from South Pacific – 'I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair' – flitted through her mind and Alex smirked at the silly verse. Despite her disdain for the sappy musical, she began humming the tune. But the image of her standing on a beach under a palm tree wearing a sarong and singing about Bobby brought on full laughter that quickly escalated to something akin to hysteria. Her emotions churned and spilled in her laughter until it abruptly ended on a final, lust-filled gasp as she remembered the feel of him pressed against her.

Totally pathetic, Alex. You really need to call Terry and get laid.

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Bobby hung up the phone, took a final swallow of his coffee, then rinsed the mug and turned it upside down on the dish drainer. After a walk through his apartment to make sure things were turned off and locked up, he grabbed his garment bag off the bed and went downstairs to wait in the building lobby. That was Eames on the phone, letting him know she was just a few blocks away from his apartment. It was the first time they'd spoken since last night, and it was a short, efficient conversation. Bobby sensed that she was as on edge as he, even though he was the one who lay awake most of the night trying to frame some sort of apology for his behavior. The problem was that as much as he wanted to berate himself for what had happened, a small part of him argued that she hadn't resisted – that she had, in fact, been receptive to their… Their, what? Physical encounter? Hell, he didn't even know what to call it, let alone begin to explain it.

A Canadian cold front had blasted into the region overnight and temperatures had plunged severely. As he stood in the unheated lobby staring out at the drear November morning, Bobby was sorely tempted to light a cigarette to calm his nerves and ward off the cold. But he knew how much the smell bothered Eames, especially in the small confines of the SUV. So, he refrained and instead studied the icy patterns that painted the panes of glass in the front door. Bobby looked to the lead-gray sky that forewarned the snow promised by The Weather Channel, and hoped that it held off at least until they reached State College. Eames was a competent driver and she was used to all kinds of road conditions. But driving in snow and ice would only add another layer of anxiety to what already promised to be a strained commute.

The black SUV doubled-parked in front of his building and Bobby pushed his way out the front door into the frigid air just as Eames was about to hit the horn. He heard the automatic door locks click and he opened the back to hang his garment bag on the passenger side before climbing in the front. The cabin was warm, smelled of fresh coffee, and he saw two steaming cups of Starbucks in the cup holders.

"I thought you might want another hit of caffeine," Eames said as she looked over her left shoulder to ease their way back into traffic.

"Yeah," he replied as he picked up the steaming cup with his gloved hand. "Thanks."

They drove in awkward silence with Bobby looking out the window at the slow-moving traffic and bundled up pedestrians huffing white plumes, while Eames carefully navigated their way to the tunnel where they would exit the City. Outbound traffic was always much better in the morning than incoming, and they soon found themselves on the other side of the river driving through the industrial area of northern New Jersey on their way to the mountains of Pennsylvania.

"Did you get breakfast?" Eames finally broke the silence.

"Yeah, I did." If a glass of orange juice and a cigarette before my shower count as breakfast. "What about you?"

Eames pointed to the dashboard and a half-eaten bagel nestled in a napkin that Bobby would have sworn was there yesterday. He finally allowed himself to really look at her for the first time that morning. There were smudges under her eyes and he noted the tense set of her jaw. This was going to be a long and confining ride if they didn't kick the white elephant out right now.

"Eames…" he began gently and then stumbled over what to say next. He'd come up with so many different speeches during the night but could never settle on exactly the right thing to say. Bobby finally decided to just dive in. "I think we need to talk… about last night."

She paled and he saw her grip on the steering wheel tighten, but she refused to look at him. "What about last night?" she asked, eyes riveted on the road ahead.

Bobby felt a spark of anger in his chest and he blew out a breath of frustration in order to cool it before it had a chance to flare. Why does she have to make me work for this? He wasn't alone in that gym last night and despite the fact that he would accept all of the blame, Bobby really did know that he wasn't solely responsible for what almost happened. He remembered the feel of her hands fisting his shirt and the sound of her breathing him in. Her soft whimper and dark eyes.

He cocked his head to study her. Eames was so obviously uncomfortable and, he realized, probably regretting what had happened. He, on the other hand, was finding it hard to regret anything other than Pete Garcia's interruption. Bobby sighed. The gentleman in him would let her get away with this.

"Look… I'll do whatever you want, Eames," he shifted his left leg and twisted in his seat so he could face her. "I… I think we should talk. Get it out in the open. But if you… don't want to or you'd rather… ignore it," he paused. Eames' eyes narrowed and her lips pursed into a thin line. "If you want to ignore it, then that's what we'll do," he finished.

"You can do that?" she demanded so suddenly that Bobby was taken aback. When she glanced at him, her eyes shone with irritation. "You can just go on about your day like nothing happened? You can just… forget the whole thing?"

She fixed her eyes back on the road. Her hands gripped the wheel and Eames was shaking her head with what Bobby interpreted as a total, general disgust with the entire male species. Okay, bad call. She obviously doesn't want to ignore the whole thing.

"Ignoring isn't the same thing as forgetting," he said softly.

And just like that, she softened. Her shoulders relaxed, her head leaned back against the headrest, and the tension fled her facial features with her deep sigh. "I'm sorry, Bobby." She looked at him briefly and gave him a wan smile. "It was a long night."

He nodded agreement but said nothing, waiting for her to guide them.

"Can we just…" she hesitated, seeming to collect her thoughts before continuing. "Can we just get through these interviews today? Then, if we both feel like it, we can talk later?" Eames gave him another worried glance before turning her attention back to the road.

Tenderness welled up within him. He hated to see her so distressed and wanted to reassure her. "Like I said, Eames…" he settled back into a forward position in his seat. "I'll do whatever you want."

TBC…