Designed Intent

Chapter 58

Thursday Morning

"The reports from trace are back," Eames said, opening the folder an assistant handed to her. She read for a minute and then added, "Well, this is interesting."

Bobby looked up and waited.

"The fingerprints on the items belong to a Boris Krezemsky."

"Who's he?"

"A Russian thief of some repute; he has priors for fencing antiquities." Eames looked up at her partner, "Let's see where he might be." She fired up her computer and initiated a search.

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The weather was still nippy when Gleason headed out for her walk midmorning, but it was warmer than Tuesday had been. Her plan was to shop for a new shell; she had decided to wear her ecru linen suit for their wedding, the one she wore for her interview at Northwestern. She was excited about absolutely everything and smiled as she walked. She crossed Ninth to Eighth, turned left, and found herself heading toward the coffee shop where she saw the little boy named Chris. The red and white awnings were up ahead and she was tempted to stop.

Don't be silly, she told herself, it was a coincidence. Bobby was right; many children are friendly that way. It was nothing. Gleason walked past the coffee shop and headed toward Fifth.

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Thursday Noon

Bobby and Eames went to the New Market Deli for lunch. Eames was delighted that the 'old Bobby' seemed to be back.

"So, what's new in Bobby-land?" she asked, using her term when referring to his private life. He rarely shared anything.

Bobby unwrapped his pastrami on rye and reached for the yellow mustard. Eames saw him smile and blush, "Bobby? What's up?"

He concentrated on dripping dots of mustard on his sandwich, flipped shut the lid, set it back beside the ketchup and finally looked at her, still smiling – smirking actually, "Nothing's up. How are you and Sledge getting along?"

For the next twenty minutes, the partners talked about Sledge – as a detective, as a friend, and as a boyfriend. Eames was surprised that Bobby was so willing to discuss such personal things; generally, he had a mile-wide barrier about personal topics.

Eames provided quite an insight into the man Bobby had hated for years; she confided in him as a sister to a brother. Bobby had no idea Sledge could be such a nice, good guy. It was this very deli where Bobby and Sledge had come clean with each other. Bobby realized Edward Sledge would be a good man for his tiny partner.

The pair was quiet as they walked back to One Police Plaza. Bobby struggled with whether to say anything to his partner. He felt almost obligated to tell Eames about his plans to marry Gleason. Eames waited for Bobby to pull open the door to the huge lobby. He hesitated with his hand on the door.

"Uh, Eames, I, I want to tell you something." Bobby's hand dropped from the door handle and he stuffed both into his pockets. He nodded to the left, off to the side of the entering and exiting traffic.

Eames looked at him and followed. "What?"

Bobby ran his hand over the top of his head and then crossed his arms. He leaned against the railing and glanced at his partner. "Gleason and I are getting married."

Eames wasn't sure she heard him correctly, "What?"

"Gleason and I are getting married. Don't, don't say anything to any one, ok?"

She could not believe it. Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him with eyes the size of dinner plates. "Oh. My. God. Bobby! When?"

He went six shades of red and uncrossed his arms. "A week from tomorrow. Don't say anything, ok?"

She was stunned silent for a minute and then said, "I have to tell Edward. Does the Captain know?"

Both hands went up in front of his chest, palms out, "Look, don't tell Sledge. I wasn't going to say anything until afterward, but I figured . . . you're my partner and, and friend – don't tell anyone else, ok?"

Eames grabbed his coat sleeve and tugged on it. "I cannot believe it. Bobby, I cannot keep this from Edward. Let me tell him. Are you going to tell the Captain? You have to tell Deakins."

Bobby was afraid of this. Gleason would kill him for even telling Eames. Although they had not talked about not telling anyone, except his mother. "Eames, I, we, we don't want this to be a big deal. Ok? Don't tell any one."

Eames looked up at him and growled. "God you can be infuriating."

"Ok, you won't say anything? Right?"

"Come on," she said with abject exasperation. She knew she would tell Sledge and Bobby did, too.

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Late Thursday Afternoon

After work, and before heading home, Bobby stopped at the dry cleaners and dropped off his blue-black suit, the one he wore on their first date. Then, he drove to a florist and ordered a spectacular wedding bouquet of autumn wildflowers for Gleason, tied with narrow, Black Watch tartan ribbons. The florist suggested including rooted ivy for planting after the wedding and Bobby asked if a sprig of thistle could be included as well.

Without talking to him, and from a different florist, Gleason ordered Bobby an autumnal boutonnière, which included ivy and dried thistle tied with narrow, Black Watch tartan ribbons.

Bobby did not tell Gleason that he had reserved the bridal suite at the Waldorf Astoria for the following Saturday night with a Sunday afternoon checkout. A bottle of champagne, fruit basket, chocolate strawberries, box of erotica, and in-room breakfast were included. Bobby was intrigued with and curious about the 'box of erotica.'

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Thursday Night

Bobby lay waiting for her as she prepared for bed. "Don't wear your nightgown tonight," he said softly as she took it from the drawer. Her face broke into a shy smile and she refolded it and returned it.

She came around the bed and climbed in. They embraced and Bobby pulled his head back to see her, brushing hair from her face with his right hand. "I love you," he said.

"I love you more," she answered.

"I told Eames about the wedding." He searched her face for a reaction.

"Was she surprised?"

Bobby's relief was inward, his fear of her being upset was more than he had realized.

He smiled broadly and said, "You could say she was surprised."

"Do you think it will make the morning paper?" Gleason joked.

"Well, I swore her to secrecy."

"Ah, then, it will only make the Associated Press, not the International."

Bobby kissed her gently.

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Friday Morning

Bobby walked from the coffee room carrying his coffee cup and Eames' cup with a tea bag string hanging from it.

Sledge wandered over and nudged Bobby's arm with his elbow, causing coffee to slurp over onto Bobby's hand.

"Hey, watch it."

"Practicing for breakfast in bed?" Sledge asked with a snarky smile.

Bobby rolled his eyes. He knew she would tell.

"Here," Bobby said, handing Eames her cup. She took it with a huge smile and thanks.

"So, next Saturday, huh?" Sledge asked.

Bobby sat and glared playfully at his partner. "I see what secrecy means to you," he said, setting down his cup and then shuffling folders, digging for his portfolio.

"You knew I would tell him. So, have you told Deakins?"

"Haven't you?" he asked.

Sledge laughed, "Ha! Good one." The three were quiet for a moment. Then Sledge said, "Alex wants me to ask you if you are going on a honeymoon."

"I did not ask you to ask him that! I wondered, that's all."

Bobby ignored them both with a slight smile.

"Well, are you?" Sledge asked.

"What's going on here? Solving something?" Deakins asked.

The trio looked at the boss as though caught doing something naughty. "Uh, yeah, Eames and I were going to go over something that came through on the fax," Sledge said to the Captain. Then to Alex he said, "You coming?"

Alex stood with her cup and the pair moved toward Sledge's desk. "What's up with them?" he asked Bobby.

"Uh, Captain, can I have a word in your office?"

"Sure."

Five minutes later, Deakins was shaking Bobby's hand and clapping him on the back. "She's a good woman, Bobby. You are lucky to have each other."

"Thank you, Captain, thank you."

"Are you going to take some time? Going somewhere nice for a honeymoon?"

"No, no. I, I don't have any time built up yet. We haven't really even talked about it. We'll probably do something this summer while Gleason's on break. I'd like to take her back home to Scotland for a visit."

Deakins looked at his best detective and shook his head. "This is wonderful, Bobby, wonderful. Have you told anyone but those two?"

"No, no. I'd appreciate your confidence as well, Captain."

"Certainly. You know I have to tell Angie, though, right? She'd kill me if I didn't tell her."

"Sure, sure. Well, I should get back to work."

They shook hands again and they returned to their business.

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