September. Alex jumps on the therapy bus, and faces some painful memories. A holiday weekend replete with smut. The dynamic duo catch a puzzling new case, one that will dredge up issues for both. A solemn anniversary is marked. And we have chapter 11. Sorry for the long delay...busy, busy life. I don't own them. Sigh.
Alex shifted nervously in her seat. Why the hell did she think that therapy was a good idea? And she was missing lunch to boot.
"Alex?" Dr Olivet's voice broke into her thoughts.
"Yeah," she got up and followed the doctor into her office.
"Been a long time," she said by way of opening.
"Yes, it has," Alex took a deep breath.
"What brings you in today?" the therapist inquired.
"Uh-lots of little things, I guess," she began. "Work, mostly. We've had some really dark, miserable cases...a family murdered, little kids...family secrets and drama."
"You said 'we.'" Dr Olivet observed.
"Bobby and I," Alex paused.
"You're back with your partner," Elizabeth nodded.
"Yes, after a break," she agreed.
"How is that going?" she asked.
Alex smiled, "Very well. In a lot of ways, it's like we've never been apart."
Dr Olivet observed, "Your whole demeanor changes when you talk about him."
"We've been together a long time. You know that. And he was one of your patients at one time," she said.
"Former patient," she acknowledged. "Employer mandated after he was at Tates."
"Um-hmm," Alex said. "He's...much better now."
"I'm glad," the doctor said sincerely. "He needed...help I couldn't provide."
"Anger management, his dysfunctional family, authority issues," Alex ticked them off on her fingers. "While my issues are PTSD, postpartum depression, and repressed anger. We make the perfect dysfunctional partnership."
"Interesting observation," Dr Olivet commented. "Care to elaborate?"
Alex propped her elbows on her knees, "Isn't it obvious? Between the two of us, we make one sane person."
"Still have the sarcasm as your defense mechanism," the therapist observed.
"Bobby calls it my snark," She grinned.
"If this is going to work, you need to check that at the door," Olivet warned.
"I'll do my best," Alex sobered.
"Good," Olivet nodded. "Some general questions, how is your relationship with your family, specifically your sister and nephew?"
"It's good, Nate is almost eight, in second grade. Liz and I...we're very open about discussing feelings, jealousies."
"Tell me about that," Olivet said.
"One of our nieces is pregnant, soon to be married," Alex commented. "We were at a family dinner a while back, and Liz got upset when Ashley and I compared notes about being pregnant."
"Had to bring up some feelings for you, too," the therapist prompted.
"It did," Alex bit her lip, fidgeted. "My nephew asked how it felt when he was in my belly."
"That made your sister upset," Olivet said.
"She never was pregnant long enough to feel kicks, and it...hurt her," the words were hard to say.
"Yet once he was born, she was his mother," the therapist observed.
"That's what I told her," Alex's tone was bitter.
"When you came in, you spoke about the work getting to you," Olivet said.
"I guess," she stared out the window. "The kids who didn't get to grow up. The parents who raised a murderer. A father who killed his own precious daughter, leaving her son without a mother."
"Lot of stress, even without the personal issues," the doctor acknowledged.
"Or maybe it's regret. Not for being a surrogate, but that I have no child of my own." Alex got up to pace the room.
"Those feelings are normal for a woman of your age," Olivet countered.
"I'm fine with not being a mother, really," Alex sighed.
"So you've always said. But ...you seem ambivalent, and I don't think it's just about what's going on at work," the doctor pondered.
"Oh, it has a lot to do with the work," she said dryly. "These...people, the perps...they were blessed with children, and yet...they didn't appreciate what they had. They either killed their kids or warped them into these...sociopaths."
"Galls you, does it?" Olivet commented.
"Makes me wonder sometimes...how life works. Why them?" Alex sighed. "God, I listen to myself and I sound like those weepy, weak...idiots on talk shows. "
"So, is this twenty questions? Do you want me to guess?" Elizabeth was exasperated.
"I'm in a relationship, with someone...I work with," Alex said cautiously.
"Does he have children?" the therapist asked.
"No, he's never been married," Alex replied. "But he's wonderful with children and he'd be a great father."
"Older than you?" Olivet probed.
"He's fifty," she said, picking at a cuticle. "And he says it doesn't matter to him either way."
"You believe him?" Olivet prompted.
"Yeah," Alex sighed. "But he...his immediate family is gone. And I...what if I'm not enough family for him?"
"How long have you known him?" the doctor inquired.
"Long time," she acknowledged.
Dr Olivet leaned forward in her chair, "So if he tells you he doesn't care about the issue of children, can you take that at face value?"
"Yes," Alex agreed.
"Back to the stress you've been feeling, how are you sleeping?" she asked.
"Most nights, fine," she answered. "Working like crazy and having regular sex helps a lot."
"Guess that answers my next question," Elizabeth chuckled. "You mentioned your PTSD earlier. Sometimes an intimate relationship...even a healthy one, brings up...issues."
"None so far," Alex said quietly.
She left Olivet's office with a lot to think about.
Bobby glanced up as she took a seat at her desk, "Well?"
"Well, what?" she countered.
"How did it go?" he was a little anxious.
Alex bit back a snarky remark, "It was...okay. I'm, uh, going back next week."
"Good," he nodded. "In the meantime, I have a little surprise for you." He indicated a photo on her blotter.
She picked up the photo, regarded it curiously. It was a cottage, painted a cheerful yellow with bright blue shutters. Geraniums bloomed in the window boxes, and there was a pair of bikes propped next to the front door. "What's this, our latest crime scene?"
"Uh, no, it's ours for the holiday weekend, if-if we want it," he said quietly.
"Want it? Of course I do," she grinned. "But how did you find something like this at this late date?"
"You remember Lewis' brother Tom? Well, he and his girlfriend just broke up and he said he'd rather put time in at the shop than be in Montauk by himself." he explained quietly, casting a furtive glance.
She came around the desk, pretending to read a file over his shoulder, "I could just kiss you," she whispered in his ear.
Bobby tilted his head slightly, "Just a kiss? I was expecting a little more than that," he muttered under his breath.
"Don't worry, I'll kiss whatever you want tonight," she went back to her seat, enjoying the look on his face.
It was one of "those" nights, as Alex liked to call them. Where they went directly to the bedroom, do not pass go, do not eat dinner before sexually sating each other.
"You said you would kiss whatever I wanted," Bobby laughed, as he efficiently undressed his partner.
"I kind of expected you'd feed me first," she joked, tossing his shirt onto the floor and unzipping his pants.
"Sorry, are you hungry?" he paused in his task of divesting her of her panties.
"Spent my lunch hour in the shrink's office," she shoved his pants off.
"Oh, right. Um, I think there's some leftover pizza in the fridge," he said distractedly.
She laughed outright, "I can wait a little," she stroked the bulge in his shorts.
"Trying to be a gentleman here," he groaned.
"Uh huh," Alex grinned, yanking his briefs off. "So what do you want me to kiss first?"
"Take your pick," he lay back on the bed.
"Chinese," she climbed on top of him.
"I didn't realize that was a body part," he chuckled.
"Takeout Chinese is what I want when we get this kissing thing out of the way," Alex teased his mouth open with her tongue, chewed on his lower lip a bit.
"Never could understand how a woman's mind works," he ran his hands over her bare butt.
"We multitask, hardwired for it," she slid down his body, leaving a trail of kisses in her wake. "Guys...not so much."
"Oh, kissing right there...love that," Bobby arched up into her hands.
"Since you have a preference..." her mouth closed around him, taking her time to pleasure him.
Bobby felt the haze of desire spreading, "Fuck, Alex!"
"Thought this was about the kissing," she stopped for a moment, keeping him clutched in one hand, while the other stroked his belly.
Before she could take another breath, he had her on her back across the bed, one hand holding her hands above her head, his tongue thrusting forcefully into her mouth, while the other parted her thighs.
Alex felt a tingle of fear, a throwback to her kidnapping years ago. She hated having her arms restrained in any fashion. She bucked her hips against him, trying to focus on the pleasure. You're safe, he won't hurt you, she assured herself silently.
Bobby took her movements as ascent towards a quick release, and plunged into her.
She moaned as he made contact with just the right spot and felt herself propelled at breakneck speed to orgasm, "Almost there," she panted, letting herself go.
"Aw, Christ, yeah!" he collapsed on top of her, finally releasing her arms.
She let them drop limply to her sides, unable to even move her extremities enough to embrace him as she usually did.
Again, Bobby took her lassitude as exhaustion. He kissed her tenderly, surprised to taste tears on her cheeks, "Alex, baby, are you all right?"
"I-I am," she wept.
"You're not," he sat up and pulled her into his lap. "Talk to me."
"It-it was so fast...overwhelmed..." she tried to steady her voice, managing a rueful laugh, "Took my breath away more than usual, Goren."
"I get...impatient sometimes," he said ruefully. "Sorry, sweetheart."
Alex felt guilty, keeping the whole truth from him, "It's just me...you know how I am when I don't get a carb fix," she stroked his cheek, kissed him tenderly.
"Well, let's just take care of that right now," he got up to find the phone and order their dinner.
Alex took the opportunity to shower and throw on sweat pants, t shirt and a sweatshirt, hoping the hot water and fleece would chase the chill that shook her.
He looked up as she came into the kitchen, "Geez, are you sick?" He laid a hand on her forehead.
She narrowed her eyes then smirked, "My core temperature drops right along with my blood sugar."
Bobby heaved an exaggerated sigh, "The food will be here in about fifteen minutes." He opened the cupboard and found a bag of Skittles. "In the meantime, eat," he tore open the bag and put a handful in her mouth.
"You are too good to me," she said with her mouth full.
"Uh huh," he kissed the top of her head, and threw some bills on the table. "I'm gonna hit the shower."
Alex paid the delivery boy, and put their dinner on the table. She poured water for both of them, resisting the urge to use alcohol.
Bobby emerged from the bathroom, his hair damply mussed, clad in a t shirt and sweatpants, "Food, great!"
They dug in, eating ravenously.
"If we get out of work at a reasonable time tomorrow, let's go to the farmer's market on the way," she proposed.
"Friday afternoon of a holiday weekend? You know how mobbed that will be!" he objected mildly.
"Oh, come on, we have to stop for groceries anyway, let's get some local food," she said.
"You are bound and determined to keep me healthy," he sighed.
"Because I want you to live a long, long time," she grinned, putting the empty containers in the trash.
"And?" he queried.
"And you'll need healthy food to keep up your, um, stamina, this weekend," she patted his butt as she went past him to flop on the couch.
He lounged beside her, dragging her legs across his lap, "Do tell."
"Um, three days at a beach cottage, no call, just the sound of surf, the salt breeze, no family...cell phones off, do I have to draw you a picture?" she countered.
"And a nice king sized bed, I think," he massaged her bare feet.
"Bed? Oh, no, I was talking about riding those bikes, running on the beach, shopping..." she deadpanned, then giggled at his crestfallen expression.
"Evil woman," he pinched her ankle lightly.
"This is a surprise?" she grinned.
They passed the evening on the couch, channel surfing and talking about the coming weekend. Alex fell asleep in Bobby's arms, and barely felt him lift and carry her to bed.
The fear from earlier revisited her in her dreams.
She was back in that horrid basement, the screams from the girl in the next room echoing in her ears. Her arm muscles burned from being hung on the hook. Her blindfold slipped, and there was Jo Gage, running scissors across her face. Alex felt the cold sharpness of the blades, could see blood dripping.
Jo's voice was mocking, "You'll never see Bobby again, Alex. He took my daddy away from me, so I'm taking you away from him. It'll destroy him, and then I'll have my daddy all to myself. Alex could see Jo raise the sharpened blades, helpless to stop her own murder. A strangled scream tore from her throat.
"Alex, Alex, are you okay?" Bobby was saying her name over and over, his hands stroking her face.
She stared wildly around the room, trying to get her bearings. Thin gray predawn light washed the furniture of Bobby's bedroom. Her body slicked with cold sweat and her heart was pounding so loudly, she could scarcely hear his voice.
"It's okay, you had a bad dream," he said softly, brushing her damp hair off her face.
She sobbed inconsolably, unable to put her terror into words.
Bobby's heart ached, remembering those terrible nights after her kidnapping, when she would wake like this. He'd be asleep on her couch, and hear her scream. Other times, she'd show up on his doorstep at three in the morning, face ashen, eyes bloodshot. They'd sit at the table, drinking endless cups of coffee, sometimes talking, sometimes just taking comfort in each other's presence. He thought she was years beyond that fear, but then... "Was it the same dream?" he whispered.
She nodded yes, then shook her head, burying her head into his chest, ."Th-this time, I could see that it was Jo. She-she was telling me I was going to d-die...and she raised the scissors...oh, God..." her voice trailed off and her body shivered.
"I'm sorry, baby, so sorry," he crooned, snuggling her close. They fell back into a fitful sleep, Bobby sitting with his back against the headboard, Alex draped across his lap.
They woke with stiff necks and cramped limbs, "Great start to our weekend, damn nightmare," she grumbled, stretching.
"You're sure you're okay?" he was anxious as they dressed.
"I'm fine," she sighed. "I've got my own knight in shining armor, and once you get some coffee and sugar in me..."
He handed her a steaming travel mug, "You'll be your normal sweet self?"
"Something like that," she took a huge gulp, closing her eyes in bliss. "God, I love you."
"You say the same thing to the guy at Starbucks," he laughed, shrugging into his jacket.
He tossed clothes haphazardly into a duffel bag, and snatched up his binder.
"I've got your coffee," she expertly balanced her purse, work tote, the coffees and her keys.
"Miss multitask herself," he teased, taking the keys from her hand. "I'm driving."
"What?" she was annoyed.
"Hey, it would look a little suspicious for you to be driving my car into the One PP garage," he commented.
"But less so if I'm your passenger," she snarked as he swung into traffic.
"You can lie down in the back seat," he chuckled.
She rolled her eyes, "Such wit this morning."
Bobby let her out near the MTA closest to work, and she walked leisurely the rest of the way. They'd worked out a system to lower their risk of getting caught.
As Fridays went, the day was pretty routine. Bobby and Alex spent the day catching up on paperwork, and following leads on open cases. They were enough ahead that they ambled out of the bullpen by three o'clock. After a stop in Forest Hills to gather Alex's clothes, they stopped at a farmers market to stock up on fresh fruits and vegetables, bread, pasta, pastries, wine, even locally processed meat and marinara. Bobby and Alex munched on still-warm kettle corn as they inched along towards Montauk.
It was full dark by the time he parked in front of the cottage. He took out the key that Tom had provided, and turned it in the lock.
"This is great," Alex enthused, switching on lights as she moved through the little home. Besides the cozy living room, there was an eat in kitchen, with cheerful red-checked curtains adorning the windows. Bobby turned left off the living room, to look at the bathroom and single bedroom. The bath had an old claw-foot tub, with a shower ring. The antique ivory iron bed was covered with a bright patchwork quilt.
Together, they worked at unloading the car. Bobby set water boiling for pasta, while Alex tossed a salad. Marinara simmered in another pot, and crusty bread heated in the oven.
They ate ravenously, enjoying the cozy cottage and the intimacy of their first official getaway as a couple.
"I owe Tom big time for this," Bobby chuckled as they cleared the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher.
"He paid for this?" Alex asked.
"His ex-girlfriend did," he admitted sheepishly. "They were out here quite a bit this summer, but when they busted up, he kept the keys to the place. The owner didn't care, the rent was paid for the season."
"So what happened with Tom and this chick?" Alex was curious.
Bobby opened the french doors to a back patio, "Oh, typical rich girl-blue collar guy problems. She's a hotshot lawyer, tried to make him into her image of what a boyfriend should be. Trouble is, Tom likes being a regular guy."
They took seats in red Adirondack chairs, holding hands and sipping wine. "I owe him, too," Alex sighed happily. "We needed this so much."
They woke late the next morning, and ate breakfast in bed. "We are so lazy," Alex commented as she stretched and yawned.
"What holiday weekends are for," he countered, rubbing a hand on her thigh.
"Maybe we can get a little exercise," she rolled over onto her belly.
Bobby's fingers slid higher, "I'm all for that."
She rolled back, dislodging his hand, "I was thinking of riding those bikes."
"Spoilsport," he laughed.
Bobby and Alex spent the rest of the morning biking up the path that ran along the beach. They had lunch in a little cafe, then spent the afternoon poking around the local shops. By the time they got back to the cottage the sun was sliding towards the horizon. Dinner was steaks and vegetables on the grill, with bread and wine. For dessert, there was ice cream with fresh berries.
"Now we need to work off those calories," Bobby groaned in satisfaction.
Alex beckoned him with a saucy sway of her hips, "I have just the thing," she cast a mischievous glance over her shoulder as she walked into the bedroom.
Sunday was your basic smut-fest, as Alex jokingly called it. The iron bed got a workout, and they splashed water out of the big old bathtub. A nap on the couch, then a walk to the lighthouse. After dinner and a racy movie from the DVD collection in the living room, one last round on the living room floor.
"That scene in the movie where...the handcuff scene?" she was lying beneath him.
"Yes, I remember that," he grinned.
"Well, I think it would be fun...but since... the kidnapping...I'm scared... of the restraint thing," her expression was agonized.
"After Tates...I understand," he said hoarsely. "You know I would never willingly do anything to hurt you."
"I know," she remembered how he'd held her hands the other night.
"But?" his eyes were anxious.
"But nothing," she tugged at his shirt, "You're wearing too many clothes."
He took her shirt and shorts off, then laid her back on the carpet, kissing her tenderly, stroking her limbs, arranging pillows off the couch so that she was comfortable.
Bobby ran his hands over her body, his movements achingly slow.
"That...like that," she murmured as he nipped at her breast where the skin met the edge of her lacy bra, undoing the front clasp.
He soothed the bite with the tip of his tongue, while his hand found the edge of her panties. Bobby ran his fingers in the leg opening, grazing the top of her thigh, and sliding inward, touching the delta of curls lightly.
Her hips arched, sweat slicked her skin, and her mouth was dry.
His fingertips slid beneath the bit of satin and lace once more, caressing the soft skin beneath the curls, his touch feather-light. He leaned forward to capture her mouth with his, tangoing their tongues slowly.
He could see her arm muscles tense, and he moved his mouth from her lips, to her throat, and over her collarbones, fingertips soothing the soft skin of her arms, his tongue following the path of his digits.
A moan escaped her lips, focusing on the liquid fire of his caresses. Now his hands were at her breasts, pushing the lacy bra aside so he could get at her nipples, suckling first one then the other, making her arch her back off the floor.
Another few soothing kisses, then he resumed his sensual journey. His fingers were in her panties again, stroking the folds of skin, moving back to the tender skin of her inner thighs, then tracing her hip bones, "Mmmm," he murmured into her navel.
"Goddammit Bobby, stop teasing," she moaned.
"I'm...savoring," his voice was making pleasant vibrations on her skin.
"I'm pissed!"she rasped.
"That's my girl," he laughed, He massaged her calves lightly, and her feet..his tongue working little circles on the arch, knowing she was ticklish there.
She started to laugh, "Tickles. Baby, come on!"
"Prolonging the joy," he grinned, moving back up to hook a finger in her panties, sliding them off at a rate of a centimeter a second.
"You are so fucking mean," she choked, again arching her hips.
"Really, the language shocks me, Eames," Bobby blew on the soft dark curls. "I thought going slow would be...fun."
"If I ever get cuffs on you, I'm going to torture you, going to get you so hard that you can't stand it anymore, then I'm going to go sleep on the couch," she threatened.
"Leave me with blue balls?" he was amused, his fingers teasing, bringing her to the brink, then backing off.
"No more than you deserve," she wailed.
"Nice talk," he chuckled.
She was just dying for release, "I'm going to kill you," she moaned.
"Hmm, maybe I'd better hurry things along," he replaced his fingers with his tongue.
"Bobby, oh, fuck, yeah! Baby...feels so..." words dissolved into breathless sobs.
Her arms clutched at his neck, her body shaking.
He lifted her hips and buried himself inside her.
Alex felt her heart pounding crazily in her ears, as they came down from their climaxes.
Bobby rolled to his side, spooning her firmly against him, "Still going to kill me?"
"Nope," she chuckled."This has been the best weekend, sweetheart," she murmured into his chest.
Bobby kissed her forehead, "It really has." he paused a moment.
Alex picked up on his mood shift, "What?"
"I was wondering...does this remind you too much...of when you were married to Joe?"
"Where did that come from?" she brought her head up sharply.
"Well, I know you had a beach place when you were married..." he trailed off.
"We did," she pressed her forehead to his. "And it was nice, a happy memory. But it's just that...a memory. I'm more into the here and now. And now is very..." she kissed his chin, "very," then his nose, "sweet." she finished at his mouth.
Bobby woke to an empty bed. He found Alex at the kitchen table, fully dressed, sipping coffee and reading the Times.
"Good morning, honey," he kissed her lightly.
She scowled, "Morning."
"Something wrong?" he poured a cup for himself.
"Nothing that a fistful of Midol and a heating pad won't fix," she sighed.
"Aw, too bad," he ruffled her hair. "Anything I can do for you?"
"No, just the usual monthly woman thing," Alex grinned sarcastically.
It was late afternoon before they packed the car and carefully locked up the cottage.
"Promise me we'll do this again," Alex requested as they drove west.
"As often as we can," he agreed, lifting her hand to his lips.
Work was literally crazy on Tuesday, as their week began with a call out before seven-thirty. Since they had spent the night in their respective apartments, there was a little delay. Bobby met Alex at the MTA in a departmental SUV.
She slid behind the wheel giving him a quick kiss, "Good morning."
"Good morning to you, too," he smiled. "How are you feeling?"
"Bloated, crampy, and bitchy," she snarked.
"Is that a warning?" he teased.
"For you and everyone else the next few days," she grinned over at him.
"Got it," he chuckled.
"So what's the story?" she reverted to work mode.
"Uh, DOA at a hospital," he consulted his scrawled notes.
Alex maneuvered the SUV through traffic, "And this is a major case because?"
"Head nurse on a locked down unit, prison ward," he replied.
"So administration wants to cover their asses. Are you sure you're okay with this?" she asked tentatively.
He gave her a puzzled look, "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Um, your mother, your experience at Tate's?" she countered.
"This is a murder investigation. Period. Nothing more, nothing less," he was annoyed.
"Fine," she huffed.
"Fine," he echoed.
The partners were quiet the rest of the drive. They badged the uniform at the door of the unit and they were waved in.
The nurse's small office was splattered with blood, and the body remained sprawled in the doorway. The hallway was roped off with crime scene tape, and sobbing staff members were gathered in a nearby nurses station.
"Give us the overview," Alex requested.
The first officer on scene consulted his notes, "Uh, deceased is Jean Dalton, RN, age 49. She's the nurse manager. Day shift charge nurse found her about seven o five when she failed to show for inter-shift report."
"Any wits?" Bobby knelt, and did a cursory once over. "Lots of anger, stabbed with a sharp object." He pointed to a scalpel, lying a pool of congealed blood.
"Just the nurses who found her," Officer Ramirez pointed down the hall.
"She's wearing scrubs, no obvious sign of sexual assault," Alex knelt as well. "No jewelry," she lifted one bloody hand. The nails were broken and bloody, there were cuts and scratches, obviously defensive injuries.
"She fought hard," Bobby agreed. "All the patients accounted for?"
Ramirez nodded, "Yeah. They do rounding every thirty minutes, and they're noted on the clipboard. Patients are women, most are not ambulatory, it's a medical unit, what they call a step-down? They are recovering from surgeries or serious illness. Rooms are locked."
"Let's go talk to the staff," Bobby rose and waved a hand down the hall.
"She was great, never a problem with patients or staff," Leah Mason, assistant nurse manager said, wiping tears from her eyes. She had been the one to find the victim.
"This is a tough place to work," Bobby commented.
"It is, but we don't look on these people for what they did, we're here to take care of them," Leah's eyes flashed.
"Sorry," he apologized. "Was it her habit to be at work this early?"
"Early? No, she was at the end of her shift, she worked 19-07 so I could go to a family reunion this weekend. Jean is good like that," her voice broke. "Was good...even when she...life wasn't always good to her."
"What do you mean?" Alex prompted, handing the woman a tissue.
"Jean's first husband was abusive, and her family...disowned her when she left him. She raised three kids while working two jobs and going to school nights to get her nursing degree. And yet, she never let it get her down. Kept her sense of humor, of decency," Leah took a shuddering breath. "She's the strongest person I know."
"How did you come to find her?" Alex queried.
"She didn't come to report, and that wasn't like her. Jean...she's the first in the conference room at about quarter to, with the coffee on and joke of the day on the whiteboard. I was running a couple minutes behind, because I stopped for donuts..." she bit her lip. "When she wasn't there, the staff split up and went looking. On the off chance maybe she'd ran to her office for something," she closed her eyes and shook her head, "I never thought for a second..."
"You found her where she was?" Bobby asked.
The nurse nodded, "I screamed for help and checked a pulse...nothin'."
"And you didn't move the body?" Alex wondered.
"I picked up her arm to check a radial pulse, put it back after I felt her carotid. My dad was on the job for thirty years, know how not to screw up a crime scene," Leah explained.
They spent the rest of the morning interviewing staff, checking on the ex husband's alibi, and getting into a pissing match with administration over patient privacy.
The hospital's primary lawyer cited federal privacy laws, while the detectives and the ADA Casey Novak argued that the patients were guests of the state of New York, so privilege didn't apply.
While they were using a conference room just off the locked unit for a makeshift office, they pored over what they did have-witness statements and the rounding worksheets used the previous twenty four hours. There were no patient names, just room numbers, the patient initials, time/date columns and the initials of the staff doing the rounding.
"Look at this, the last round was at 0600. If they're rounded on every thirty, there's a big gap," Bobby noted.
"Unless Jean was doing the rounds the last hour. Say she was doing the 0630 rounds and got interrupted. The murder had to have happened about that time, because there was no indication she ever made it to the conference room at 0645," Alex pondered.
"But then this clipboard wouldn't have been in the nurses station, it would have been with Jean, and it wasn't."
Alex bit her lip, considering, "My sister in law, Darla, is a nurse. Even though the shift changes at seven, they do a lot of end of shift stuff at 6 AM, that way the outgoing shift catches up their charting and get to report at straight up 7. It could be that they started the rounding sheet for the day shift at 0630. If that was the case, we need to ask and see if that sheet is somewhere in her office, or disposed of.
"Because if we knew where she was in her rounds, we could better track her movements," he finished her thought.
"We need the goddamned security video, too," Alex added.
"I know," Bobby scrubbed his hand over his face. "And we need to interview her family."
"Get the background on all the staff, verify COD, see if any of the patients had a grudge, or even the ability to be the doer," Alex added.
"I can help you with the patient list," Casey came in the room, waving a sheet of paper.
The names were alphabetical, with room numbers, doctor and admission date. There were 37 names on the list, with admission dates anywhere from two days to two months ago. Bobby read the list over Alex's shoulder. One name caught both their eyes... Johanna M. Gage.
Alex felt a terrible chill, "I thought she was...in a coma."
"She was...as far as I know," Bobby was deathly pale.
"You.. you've seen her?" she was incredulous.
"Not since...Declan was sent up," he replied. "She...had brain damage from the blood loss. The doctor told me she was in a-a vegetative state, that she was going to a care center."
"Well, obviously not," she said acidly. "It's her, she did this."
"What? You can't know that!" Bobby shook his head.
"For chrissake, Bobby, this is what she does," she flung back.
"We-we have to vet the other patients, too," he reminded her..
"How the hell can you defend her? She killed three women, kidnapped and tried to kill me..." angry tears filled her eyes.
"I'm not defending her," he bit back. "But we have to investigate everybody."
She stared at him in stony silence, reliving the nightmare, and remembering the havoc the Gage family had heaped upon them.
Bobby opened his mouth to explain, then heaved a sigh, "Not for one single second have I forgotten what she did to you. Hate that I people I knew...trusted...nearly destroyed you...us. But we still have to do this job. Find justice for Ms. Dalton."
She rubbed her nose with her sleeve, "Hannah is going to yank us off this."
"He may," he acknowledged. "Look, if this is too much..."
She squared her jaw, "I want justice for this nurse, but I want no part of Jo."
"Are you asking me to bow out, too?" he queried.
She blew out a breath, "Do what you have to do, just be careful."
"Before anything else, we should grab some lunch," Bobby glanced at his watch.
"Not hungry," she grumbled.
He rolled his eyes, "Don't give me that bullshit, at least eat some yogurt and get some caffeine in you."
She realized he was trying to take care of her, even though the fact that he still cared about Jo rankled her. She acquiesced, accompanying him to a nearby cafe for lunch. Not only did she eat yogurt and a salad, she polished off a treat billed as "a sea salt caramel brownie."
"Salt and chocolate?" he raised an eyebrow as he finished his grilled chicken sandwich and fries.
"The ultimate chick craving at that time of the month," she snarked back, making him laugh.
"So, we're okay?" he asked.
"We're fine, but I'm going with you to interview her," she decided.
"What? Why?" he was shocked.
"Because I plan on shooting her if she tries anything," Alex was deadly serious.
But the interview would have to wait. There was the more pressing matter of Ms Dalton's family as well as interrogating the rest of the nursing staff. After establishing extra security on the unit, and assurances that the patients would remain on the unit locked down, Bobby and Alex returned to One PP to brief Hannah and dig into the minutiae of a murder case. By tacit agreement, they didn't reveal their personal connection to one of the patients.
It was Wednesday afternoon before they were able to speak with Jo Gage, over the objections of her physician.
Dr Satich was adamant that his patient was unable to walk or speak, much less orchestrate a murder. Jo had been admitted to the unit six weeks earlier, due to a blood infection. Her recovery was slow, due to the lingering effects of her blood loss years earlier. The doctor described Jo as being severely brain damaged. While she had periods of wake and sleep, and some purposeful movement, it was uncertain if she processed much of the world around her.
She was in bed, positioned on her side. A Foley catheter bag hung from the bed, draining clear urine. Her hands were unrestrained, and there was a wheelchair in the corner of the room. Bobby came into the room first, with nurse Rebecca Zeller, Dr Satich, and Alex following. Alex kept herself out of Jo's range of vision, partially secreting herself behind a privacy curtain.
Jo had bitten her own tongue off, so desperate was she not to speak to her father. She had been in a coma when Bobby saw her last, feeling he had to tell her that she wouldn't have to worry about seeing Declan again, that he was going to prison, and that he would be there till he died. He also told her about her father's descent into madness, whether it was out of spite or to give her some comfort, he still wasn't sure.
In the three years since, Jo looked much healthier, and the eyes that met his were obviously alert and aware. Her mouth curved into a slight grin, making him certain that this woman was more neurologically intact than she was letting on.
"We're here to ask you some questions about something that happened yesterday, Johanna," Dr Satich began. "Do you remember Nurse Jean?"
Jo answered first with a shake of her head no, then appearing to nod yes, keeping the expression on her face deliberately blank. One hand moved to pick at the edge of her sheet, then her eyes seemed to wander, glaze over.
"I told you, detectives, that she is not cognizant enough to be a witness," the doctor turned to Bobby and Alex.
"Not so sure about that," Rebecca muttered under her breath.
Alex frowned, "Care to elaborate?"
At the sound of Alex's voice, Jo's eyes darted in her direction and her expression became overtly angry. Garbled sounds erupted in her throat.
"I'd rather not say here," Rebecca whispered, turning away from the patient.
Alex exchanged a glance with Bobby, then told Rebecca, "How about we get something to drink?"
"I'll catch up with you in a few minutes," Bobby nodded, as his partner and the nurse left.
After that, Jo again let the blank mask speak for itself. In spite of Bobby's gentle queries, her responses were inconsistent, or totally absent.
Bobby was frustrated, because he was sure she was faking. Her initial response to him was unguarded, happy. She recognized him, he knew it, and appeared genuinely glad to see him. Then she seemed to be confused, unsure, up until the moment she realized Alex was in the room. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and her personality came roaring through. For that moment, Bobby saw what Jo's victims must have seen. And Alex, had she not escaped. The thought shook him to his core.
"I know you can hear me, Jo," Bobby leaned over her bed, his words deadly cold.
Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be in a deep sleep.
"You're the daughter of a profiler, you know all the tricks," he continued in a conversational tone. "Just remember, he taught me, too." He turned on his heel and left the room, disgusted.
Dr Satich followed in his wake, scolding the detective, "That was extremely inappropriate, you had no right to talk to my patient in that fashion."
Bobby whirled on him, anger seeping from every pore, "That patient is a convicted murderer. She killed three women, and kidnapped and tried to kill a fourth. She may have killed a member of this staff. You'd do well to remember that."
Down the hall, Alex was sipping tea, listening to Rebecca discuss her impressions of Jo.
"I really don't know if I should be talking out of school," the nurse gulped soda. "I mean, she is my patient. And with the privacy things..."
"Look, I don't want you to give out any medical information, just tell me why you said what you did back there. Jean was your boss. Do you think...would she want to help us if the situation were reversed?" Alex countered.
Rebecca nodded, "She would. Uh, when Johanna came to our unit, she really was quite ill. And it was sad, because she was relatively young, no family..."
"That must not be anything new, considering your patient population," the detective said sarcastically.
"No, but she...reminded me of my big sister, Carrie," her lips trembled. "Carrie...died of breast cancer earlier this year."
"I'm sorry," Alex's tone softened.
"Anyhow, I felt sorry for her, so I offered to be Johanna's primary nurse. As she began to recover, she seemed more...interactive. Since she was mute, and brain damaged, it was hard to tell...how much she was aware," the nurse said quietly.
"But something happened to challenge that?" she prodded.
"Jo was in the chair by the window, while I changed her bed linens. I was telling her about my dad, that it was his birthday, and we were having this big surprise party for him," her face was troubled. "We were thinking it would be nice to celebrate something in our family. Dad...he has taken Carrie's death harder than anyone, and he...he's a great guy." She took a deep breath. "I was kneeling down, getting ready to flush her IV port with saline, when she picked up the syringe and tried to stab me with it."
Alex felt her heart sink, "Did you report this?"
Rebecca nodded, "I told Jean right away, and we filled out a variance report."
"Did..were you injured at all?" she asked.
The nurse cracked a bitter smile, "No, the syringe was needle-less, so it was a blunt tip. Plus, I moved at the last second, so she missed and it dropped to the floor."
"How...how...could it have been an accident?" Alex wondered.
"No, that kind of movement was deliberate, and took fine motor skills and thought," she was adamant. "I pulled the emergency light for help. After the techs and I got her into bed, she looked at me with this..this smirk. After that, I refused to take care of her."
"How long ago was this?" the detective asked.
"Last Thursday," Rebecca said quietly. "Jean wanted her transferred back to jail, but Dr Satich...he's a new resident and gullible. I was off the weekend, and got the call yesterday..." she started to cry. "I don't know if she did it, but I think she...could."
Bobby knocked lightly on the office door. Alex waved him in.
"Are you all right?" his question was directed as much to Alex as to Rebecca as he took a seat next to his partner.
The nurse cleared her throat and blew her nose, "I just wish...she was back in jail, where she belongs."
Alex looked over at Bobby, "Jo tried to stab Rebecca last week."
"Shit," he muttered.
"I know we need to check out the rest, but..." she dangled the statement, he caught her meaning.
They arranged for extra security on the unit, then headed to the SUV. Alex turned the key in the ignition, still shaken from their encounter with Jo. "We have to tell Hannah," she said quietly.
"I know," he sighed.
"Don't tell me you feel sorry for her," acid dripped from her tone.
"I don't. I used to...because I think how Dec raised her...shaped what she turned into. But she...threatened the person I held most dear. Can't forgive that. And today...when she heard your voice...I knew she was still capable of murder," Bobby said, reaching for her hand.
Hot tears pricked her eyes, "That brain damage act..."
"...is just that, an act," he finished her sentence.
"We need to hand this off to someone else," she said.
"But I think I can get her to confess," he protested.
"If she did it," Alex countered. "It will just be another way to manipulate you...us. You have come so far, Bobby. The last thing I want is for the Gage family to tear you up, again."
He put his head back, "I'm fine, Alex. And I want to put this behind us, once and for all."
"All right," she sighed heavily. "But if you're in it, so am I. No way am I gonna let someone else watch your back."
Bobby squeezed her hand tightly, unable to speak.
"How does this happen? Do you look for this or are you two just...shit magnets?" Joe Hannah was pissed.
"Are you kidding? We didn't know what the hell we were getting into!" Bobby practically yelled back.
"You know I have to pull you from this case," the captain shook his head.
"Even if we're the ones who can get her to confess?" Alex protested.
"This is a woman who kidnapped you, Detective. Her batshit father killed your brother, Bobby," Joe reminded them. "Don't matter whether you can break her or not-any half-assed defense attorney will be on this like stink on shit. Not to mention the Chief of D's will chew me a new orifice. Take what you got and give it to Daniels and Falacci." He held up a hand, "This discussion is closed."
They went back to their desks in silence. Alex typed up the witness statements while Bobby organized the file. A courier brought the security vids as they were finishing up.
Alex clicked into her personal email and found a message from her friend Resa. The header read "911 Girls night out." She read the message "Meet at the usual place, Thursday at 6:30, sooner if you're as ready to vent as I am." She chuckled to herself as she replied, "Are you kidding? After the shitfull week I'm having, I'm in."
"What's so funny?" Bobby inquired.
"911 girl's night out tomorrow night, she answered, raising an eyebrow.
"Good for you," he smiled. "First time I've heard you laugh all day."
"Did..did you want to do something together tonight?" she asked.
"No, I am going to watch a few videos," he indicated the pile on his desk.
"Bobby," she warned. "You heard the captain."
"Yeah, but he's gone for the day, and so are Falacci and Daniels," he said quietly.
She rolled her eyes, "Skating on thin ice."
"No, I'm working our case," he countered. "You don't have to stay."
"Come on, leave it and I'll take you to dinner," she pleaded.
"I'll be fine, really," he gave her his most charming Bobby grin.
She walked over and leaned close to his ear, "You are totally hopeless," she whispered.
"And?" he chuckled.
"And I love you anyway," she answered. "I'm going for a run, then I'll bring you back Chinese."
"I may be done by then," he shook his head.
She snorted inelegantly, "Right."
He took no offense to her words as she left the squad. He got a soda and chips from the vending machine, then hauled the video discs to the media room.
Alex felt the stress of the day ease as she ran her usual circuit. Amazing how the days shortened after Labor Day, she mused. She was more than ready for girls night out, especially since it was Thursday, and her second appointment with Olivet. She stopped and got dinner for two and headed back to One PP.
Sure enough, the office was quiet, the lights dimmed except for the media room. Bobby was intently watching the screen, oblivious to the passage of time.
"Hey mister, told you you'd forget you have a home besides this one," she nudged him, waving the fragrant bag of food.
"What? Oh, thanks," he reached for the chopsticks she handed him.
She snatched them away and pressed "stop" on the video player. "Nope, food first."
"Alex!" he protested.
"It's eight o'clock, time to pack it in for the night," she scolded.
"But...I haven't seen enough," he said, frustrated.
"Yes, you have," she said firmly. "Look, we have to brief Falacci and Daniels in the morning, we both have to see our respective shrinks tomorrow, and this is not the only case that needs our attention."
He scrubbed a hand over his unshaven cheeks, "I know you're right."
She laughed gleefully, "I do love me an intelligent man!"
He couldn't help chuckling at her expression, "Don't get a big head. And give me those chopsticks."
They sat side by side at the conference room table, speculating about Jo's culpability in the murder, and discussing the upcoming anniversary of 9/11.
"Ten years," she groaned, leaning back in her chair. "Seems like a minute ago in some ways, and a hundred years in others.
"I remember us standing in Deakins' office watching, and not believing it," he sighed.
"The phones ringing, the utter chaos...Being so scared, and yet knowing...we had to get out there and help," she recalled.
"You were scared?" he was surprised. "You sure didn't show it."
"I didn't want to be seen as the weak female cop," she said dryly. "But with cops and firefighters in my family...losing my husband to the job...I was one raw nerve inside."
"All I could think was...how vulnerable we were. I mean, I'd been lots of places when I was in the Army, but to have this happen here...at home..and we couldn't do a fucking thing about it," he mused.
"And we think we put in long hours now," she cracked.
"Slept in the crib for short stretches, walked through the ash and the smoke...the whole city smelled like...burned electrical wire," he remembered.
"The searching, the funerals...afraid to sleep for too long, lest we miss something important," she added.
"And yet we're still here," he took her hand.
"We sure are," she leaned her head on his shoulder.
"Wanna come home with me?" he invited.
"Would love to, but I need clothes, and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow," she said regretfully.
"This weekend, then..or if you need a designated driver tomorrow night," he teased.
"Can't risk a hangover with the hours we'll have to put in this weekend," Alex replied.
"I know, but the offer's open," he stood and offered her his hand.
She dropped him at the train, with a promise to call him when she got home.
Alex was tired, and fell asleep quickly after her goodnight call to Bobby. Her slumber was plagued with nightmares, Jo figured prominently in them. Not the usual ones about the kidnapping, but new, horrifying images.
Jo with a scalpel, sneaking up on a faceless person while Alex was cuffed to a chair and gagged. The woman's features were distorted with rage, and Alex could do nothing while Jo slashed at the victim's throat. The face was a blur, then she saw it was Jean Dalton's. They were all in the hall outside the nurse's office. The gag muffled her screams so she couldn't warn her. Alex felt herself falling through space, then she was in Jo's hospital room, restrained to the bed. Bobby came round the privacy curtain, and Jo's hand expertly sliced his throat. Blood sprayed over all over Jo and herself. She could actually taste the brassy liquid. This time she screamed in horror as Bobby dropped to the floor lifeless.
Alex woke with a start, so petrified she couldn't breathe. It took several minutes for her to get her bearings, to realize she was safe. She turned on the lights, and reached immediately for her phone. Shaking, she called the nursing unit where Jo was a patient. After identifying herself and giving her badge number, the officer on duty assured her that all the patients were present and accounted for. She looked over at the clock. Three AM. She got up and threw clothes haphazardly into a tote bag. She was behind the wheel, heading to Brooklyn.
"You are nuts, Alex," she muttered to herself as she navigated west on the expressway.
She unlocked the door to his apartment, not bothering with the lights. She toed off her shoes, and tiptoed into his bedroom, thankful that he seemed to be sleeping well. Alex lifted the covers and snuggled tightly against him.
Bobby woke to the insistent beeping of the alarm. As his arm reached out to shut it off, he encountered a small warm lump pressed to his chest.
"Changed your mind, huh?" he chuckled, stroking her hair.
"Something like that," her reply was muffled into his chest.
"Alex? Are you all right?" he caught the pitch of her voice.
"One of those nights," she burrowed closer in his embrace.
"Sorry, baby," he kissed her hair, acute guilt washing over him.
"Don't be," she regarded him with tired eyes. "Just stay and hold me awhile."
They turned the Dalton murder case over to Falacci and Daniels.
"So, you have squat on this Gage chick," Nola cut to the chase.
"Just a pattern of past behavior, and how she reacted to us yesterday," Bobby countered.
"Right," she said sarcastically.
"What she means is..." Daniels was cut off by his fiery partner.
"I can answer for myself, geez. See anything on the vids that even looked like her?" she asked.
"We got the discs last night, after the captain asked us to turn the case over to you," Alex said pointedly.
"Oh, right, you had the discs in your hand but didn't look at them? Gimme a break!" Falacci rolled her eyes.
"There was no identifiable person on the ones we looked at," Alex exchanged a glance with her partner.
"Thanks for the 411," Daniels said. "We'll let you know what we turn up."
Guyson watched Bobby bounce his leg restlessly, "We've had a bit of a break, once again."
"Hurricanes and holiday weekends," Bobby agreed.
"So, what would you like to talk about?" she left it open ended.
"Ah, we caught a case this week," he began. "And we ran into someone who...I know her, well, we know her."
"You and your partner," she clarified.
"Yeah, she..her name is Jo, Jo Gage. She, uh-her dad was my mentor back when I was in the service," he stammered.
"Declan Gage's daughter. You've mentioned him before, but not her," she said.
"Jo...she was his only child, and he raised her...alone," Bobby's tone was bitter. "If you could call that parenting."
"How so?" she was acutely aware of his agitation.
"Dec's wife killed herself when Jo was seven. And he was all about the perps he profiled, even then. He taught me a lot, respected me...and coming from the home I did...I ate it up. But their home was...all these pictures and files of the most depraved...acts of mankind. It was years before I realized what an environment that must have been for a young girl. And in the end...she became one of those perps, to get her dad's attention," He got up and stared out the window.
"She murdered?" Gyson asked.
"Three women," he spat out. "Dec was in town for a conference, and she decided to resurrect one of Dec's murderers, one he never caught. Sebastian. She thought that if she killed these women, he would...engage with her. It was my bad luck that we caught the case."
"I don't understand," she shook her head.
"The second vic was Jo's roommate. She...thought that being a witness to the crime...would bring him around. Instead, he treated her like...she was a piece of furniture. He was so glad to see me, treated me like a long lost son. And that made her...she decided to kidnap and kill my part-my Alex, and frame her father," he turned and sat heavily in his chair.
"Jesus," she breathed.
"Alex...got herself free, before Jo could kill her. And I got her to confess, but not before she killed another woman," Bobby explained. "Jo was found guilty and incarcerated in a mental observation unit in prison due to her obvious psychopathy."
"Her father was instrumental in killing your brother, wasn't he?" Gyson prompted.
"Yeah. He..his brain is shot, chemical exposure, he's in prison upstate," he nodded. "Jo...bit her tongue off, rather than speak to her dad again. She had alleged brain damage after that."
"You said alleged," Gyson observed.
"Alex and I responded to a homicide at a hospital prison ward, I guess you'd call it. Jo is a patient there. We went to interview her, as a potential witness. She seemed to recognize me, even though she couldn't speak. But her reaction to Alex...pure rage. We-we turned the case over to another team, because of our personal involvement," he explained.
"Something else is troubling you," the therapist observed.
"Alex...had horrible nightmares, PTSD. IF I hadn't brought these people into her life..." he was in agony.
"She still has nightmares?" she asked.
"Not for long time...but they're back, and I don't...don't know how to help her," Bobby groaned.
"Is she getting any counseling?" Gyson wondered.
"Yes, she is," he glanced at his watch, laughing sardonically. "Even as we speak."
"Talk about the power of suggestion," Alex flopped into a chair in Olivet's office.
"What do you mean?" the doctor inquired, taking in her patient's hollow eyes and strained voice.
"After...our last session, the nightmares...are back," she answered.
"Can you identify a trigger?" Olivet asked.
Alex ran her fingers through her hair, fidgeted, "Uh, my-um, boyfriend and I were having sex...and he held my hands over my head. Um, it brought me back a bit to when I hung from that hook."
"Restraint like that can be a terrible trigger," the doctor acknowledged. "Did you tell him...to stop?"
"N-no, I didn't," Alex bit her lip. "I just kept telling myself that I was safe, that this...was -the man I loved, who'd never hurt me. And the pleasure...was there. But that night...I was right back in that basement...woke up screaming."
"Are the nightmares happening every night?" she asked.
"No. We actually got away for the weekend and it was...marvelous," her mouth curved in a wistful smile."But then this case we caught this week...Jo Gage is a potential person of interest."
"That definitely would shake your equilibrium," she commented.
"It did," Alex admitted ruefully. "So much so that I got into my car at three three AM and drove over to Bob...to my boyfriend's, so I didn't have to be alone.
Understanding dawned on Olivet's face, "Alex, this new relationship...is with your partner, isn't it?"
"Uh, yeah," she admitted sheepishly.
"You were trying to conceal his identity," the doctor said.
"Um, yeah, I guess. I mean, I'm not ashamed of it...it's just that, the job...you know." Her jaw set mutinously. "Are you going to out us?"
Olivet shook her head, "No, I think you know better than anyone the risks. You've always had strong feelings for each other."
Alex nodded, "Yes, we have. Which makes it...I don't want to tell him what's...bothering me. Because he feels guilty...for exposing me to the Gages...for the danger they wrought."
"You have to be honest with him, Alex," she said.
"I know...and I will, just...not right now. With the 9/11 anniversary coming up, and this case...it can wait," Alex said firmly. She took a deep breath, "And I do feel better, telling someone."
"So you'll be back next week?" Dr Olivet asked.
"I will," she agreed.
Alex pulled out her cell as she walked back to the office, "Hey, how about a late lunch, partner?"
"With my best girl? I'd like nothing better," his tone was jovial.
"So, how did it go?" he asked as they munched on sandwiches at a deli not far from work.
"I could ask you the same thing," she countered.
He shrugged noncommittally, "We talked about Jo...and Declan."
"What a coincidence," she said dryly.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, reaching for her hand under the counter.
"Bobby, it's not your fault," she sighed.
"But if I hadn't brought them into our lives..." he fretted.
"They were in our lives, they're not anymore," she said firmly.
His fingers moved in her palm, saying "I love you" in ASL."So you know what that means?" he grinned.
"Uh, yeah," she mimicked his movements with her own fingers, smirking.
.
Alex set out for girls night out much happier than she started her day. Her sister Liz was even able to join them. After an evening of drinking, laughing and shooting the breeze, she was delighted to have a personal escort home.
Bobby sauntered over to the table at the back of the bar, "Ladies, I was wondering if anyone needed a ride home."
"Me," Alex got up from her chair, a bit unsteady.
"Hey, won't your boyfriend be jealous, Alex?" Resa wondered.
"Oh, he's very understanding," Bobby winked.
Resa looked puzzled then realization dawned, "Way to keep a secret from your friends, Lex."
Sandy was confused, "What do we care what her boyfriend thinks? So, Detective Goren, I can really use an escort home."
"We'll put you in a cab, Sandy," Claire looked on her in pity.
"But why can't Alex call her boyfriend?" she was still not getting it. "I need a man...and this guy..." she pointed to Bobby, "Will do just fine."
Liz explained patiently. "Bobby is already taken. By Alex."
"Cut it out, he is not," Sandy shook her head in dismay.
"Lord, she is wasted," Alex sighed.
"I haven't had but a beer, and that was three hours ago," Resa said. "I'll see she gets home without killing herself or anyone else."
"Have fun?" he asked as she dozed against his shoulder.
"Um, hmm," she sighed.
"Mad at me for outing us?" Bobby asked as they walked up the stairs to her apartment.
"Nope, I'm glad you're my guy," she giggled, pulling at his belt.
"Wait to undress me after we get inside," he laughed.
"Why? Nobody will know," she whispered loudly, looking around the hallway.
"Oh, so much for not drinking a lot," he sighed, leading her by the hand to the bedroom.
In spite of her amorous intentions, Alex was asleep before she undressed completely.
Bobby lifted the covers and crawled in bed next to her. Thankfully, their sleep wasn't haunted by old ghosts tonight.
They spent the weekend working, along with their brother and sister officers. There was heightened security, memorial observances and memories of the event that changed the city...and country...forever.
Boy, what a long chapter. And dark. Watching Frame made me wonder...what happened to Jo? Was she dead? Did she come out of her coma? Poor Bobby and Alex have these old ghosts tormenting them. Do you think Jo was the culprit? Next chapter will be more fun, family. Thanks to everyone for sticking with this story, and for waiting while my life actually let me write this chapter. Feedback welcome :)