A/N: I have always loved the stories that elaborate on the friendship between Bobby and Lewis. Here is another take on what I think their relationship is like.
Vardoger: Stories typically include instances that are nearly deja vu in substance, but in reverse, where a spirit with the subject's footsteps, voice, scent, or appearance and overall demeanor precedes them in a location or activity, resulting in witnesses believing they've seen or heard the actual person, before the person physically arrives. This bears a subtle difference from a doppelganger, with a less sinister connotation. It has been likened to being a phantom double, or form of bilocation.
Doppelganger: has come to refer to any double or look-alike of a person. The word is also used to describe the sensation of having glimpsed oneself in peripheral vision, in a position where there is no chance that it could have been a reflection. They are generally regarded as harbingers of bad luck. In some traditions, a doppelgänger seen by a person's friends or relatives portends illness or danger, while seeing one's own doppelgänger is an omen of death, or results in immediate death upon the two coming face to face. Please read, review and enjoy!
Both definitions come from Wikipedia
Please read, review and enjoy!
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Chapter 2 Engine blocks and Pretzels
"Jesus Christ, Lewis! Hurry up, this thing is heavy!" Bobby shouted. They were at Lewis's garage installing a motor into a Chevy Nova that his friend was restoring. They had used the engine hoist to lower the massive block engine into the vehicle but something wasn't matching up right and Bobby used his strength to tip the motor on its side while Lewis monkeyed around under the car trying to locate the source of the problem.
"Found it." Lewis said triumphantly holding up a misplaced wrench. "I didn't remember leaving that there."
"Fingers," Bobby yelled and dropped the block into place. "I swear to God, you give new meaning to the saying "throwing a monkey wrench in it". Bobby was sweating and he wiped the back of his hand over his forehead, leaving a faint streak of grease. The sweatshirt he was wearing had a few streaks, as well. With the sleeves cut off of it, the sweatshirt looked like it had seen better days. The jeans he had on were the same, faded with holes at the knees and frayed at the hem.
"Oh, give me a break, Bobby. Not all of us are so intellectually superior that we never forget where we put something. Oh, wait that's not you either, considering I seem to recall you forgetting that beat up binder of yours at my house last week." Lewis punched him in the arm.
"Truce," Bobby threw up his hands. "I do remember though, you mentioning that you would be buying the beer if I came and helped you today.
Lewis was wiping his hands off on an old red rag. "Yeah, in the fridge. Help yourself."
Bobby opened the door to the fridge and grabbed two beers, trying not to notice the horror scene of decay and mold that permeated the interior of the appliance. They went and sat down in the shop office, Lewis at his desk with his feet planted on top of the work orders and Bobby on the ancient leather sofa with the cracked cushions and dried out foam. He had spent a lot of time here with his friend over the years. The only thing that ever changed in the room was the calendar picture on the wall of a scantily clad female laying splayed out on the hood of a car.
"I don't understand what the problem is." Lewis said, picking up the thread of the conversation they had been having before dropping the engine in. "You two have been working together for years, what's changed?"
Bobby took a swig of his beer. "Its complicated."
"There's never been anything about you that wasn't." Lewis laughed.
"Vardoger"
"Come again?" Lewis had just tilted his beer back and a little of it trickled down his chin in his surprise.
Bobby ran his hand over his face, pulling at his jaw. "Vardoger, its like a Doppelganger without the sinister overtones."
"Yeah? And my Aunt Sally likes to watch the Mets."
"What?" Bobby said looking at his friend.
"Hey, if you don't have to make sense, neither do I." Lewis told his friend shrewdly. A smile lit up the larger man's face and made Lewis relax knowing Bobby got his little joke.
"I'm sorry, Lewis. I was talking about Eames. Ever since she gave her testimony at that damn trial, she has been different with me, she still talks the same, acts the same, hell, she even smells the same but she is not the same."
"Smells the same, huh?'' Lewis grinned.
Bobby waved his teasing away with one hand. "I told her that I was lucky she withdrew her letter. You know, in a way, finding out about that letter was a relief. I've worried since day one that some day she would get her fill of working with me and request another partner. To find out now that she did think about it all those years ago and then decided to stay, well, it just erased all that anxiety."
"God, Goren, your such an idiot." Lewis laughed again taking his feet down from his desk. "This is Detective Alex we are talking about. She comes from a family of cops, right? Loyalty first and all that. She feels guilty, like she betrayed you, man. Your gonna have to tell her better than that if you want her to know that you're fine with it."
"Thanks, I can always count on my friends to make me feel better." Bobby said sourly. "Its not just that, she dating someone now. She hasn't dated anyone in a long time, at least not anyone she's mentioned to me."
"How do you know?"
"Somebody sent her flowers this afternoon. She read the card and then put it in her purse. If they were from someone, you know, someone like her Dad or whatever, she would have said so."
"Look, I've known for a long time that you have feelings for your partner." Bobby tried to protest but Lewis raised a hand to silence him. "Dude, I've known you since we were kids. I knew it when you liked Mary Beth in 5th grade, I knew it when you had a crush on that chemistry teacher in 7th grade. What was her name?"
"Ms. Rathbone."
"Yeah, she was hot. I knew it when you started going steady with Daphne Rayburn Junior year and I know it now."
Bobby said nothing and drained his beer.
Lewis threw his hands up in the air. "So, what are you gonna do?"
"I'm going to go home and take a shower." Bobby pulled his frame up off the old couch.
"Chicken" Lewis called after his friend as he left the room.
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He did go home and shower but the events of the day had left him well, if not disturbed, at least uneasy. His mind kept bouncing between the possible whereabouts of Alan Pemberton and the possible whereabouts of Alex Eames and with whom.
He found himself in Central Park. It had rained earlier and the sidewalks were still wet and glistening in the lamplight. He walked along the trails, his long stride eating up distance, carrying him deeper into the park.
He was trying to fix the sequence of events in his mind. She had testified at the courthouse at approximately 4pm on Thursday. Things had been hinky with them since then. The flowers showed up on her desk today. They had worked fairly late the last few days so he was pretty sure she had gone home on those nights. She had to have met this mystery guy that night after the trial.
Lewis was probably right about Alex feeling guilty about what happened. He didn't like to think about her being somewhere feeling so bad and having some guy come along and try to pick her up. And now the guy was sending her flowers. The thought depressed him to no end.
Bobby was just coming to a footbridge when he heard the noise of a dog whining. He was still holding the remains of a pretzel he had bought from a street vendor and decided to try to give it to the dog. "Here boy, come and get it." He whistled for the dog to come out. More whining ensued but Bobby could also hear what sounded like feet scuffing on the pavement. He put his hand to his service piece.
"Hey, I'm just trying to give your dog some food." Bobby called out.
"He is hungry," said a voice from out of the dark.
Bobby's eyes widened as a man emerged from the shadows holding a fairly aggressive looking pit bull by a slender rope. The dog whined again and strained at the rope. "Oh, Jeez," Bobby said. How do I get myself into these things? He dropped the pretzel on the ground in front of the dog and turned to make good his escape when he happened to glance at the dog's companion. He did a double take. Holy shit! He was dirty and his head was bleeding from a cut but the man was none other than their missing person; Alan Pemberton.
Bobby called for a squad car to come and pick them up. He also told them to send someone from the ASPCA for the dog. He asked Alan Pemberton what he was doing there and if the dog was his. All Pemberton would say was that he and Fluffy had gone to the park and that they were both hungry.
He hesitated but went ahead and pushed his speed dial button for Eames. It rang a number of times before she picked it up. He almost dropped the phone when it occurred to him that she might not be alone or necessarily asleep.
"Eames?"
"Yeah, hey what time is it?"
At least she sounded like she had been asleep. "It's 1:30. Sorry to call so late. I found Pemberton."
"What, where, why are you…never mind, where are you, I'm on my way."
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Bobby had Pemberton in one of the interview rooms. The guy was busy sucking down a Coke and had already eaten his way through half a box of doughnuts when Alex arrived. She was wearing a kind of floaty looking top, something he had never seen her wear and a black skirt. Somehow he knew these were the clothes she had been wearing earlier in the evening.
"How did you find him?" Amazement and confusion showed on her face.
"Dumb luck, actually. I offered a pretzel to the dog he had with him and I recognized him."
"In Central Park?"
"Um hmmm."
"An hour ago?"
"Uh, yeah, why?" Bobby squirmed a little in his seat.
"What in God's name were you doing in Central Park at that hour?" Bobby could see the gold flecks of anger dancing in her eyes.
"I was thinking about the case." He said defensively.
"You mean you were doing your John Wayne impression, walking wherever the hell you wanted, daring someone to even think about crossing you." Neither one of them was paying any attention to Alan who was watching the two of them with a happy expression on his face.
"Eames, I…."
She cut him off. "You never do care if anything happens to you, do you Bobby? You just expect me to….never mind." They both caught sight of Guisseppe coming out of the elevator. She gave him a look that said their discussion was far from over.
"Have a seat, Mr. Guisseppe. The family sent you here to pick him up?" Alex asked him.
"Yeah, they said that he had Fluffy with him, is that true?" The man asked twisting his hat in his hands.
"Yes," Bobby answered. "Is the dog his?"
"Used to be, sort of. You see one day, I come over and here Alan has this dog in his apartment. He's not supposed to have animals at his place cuz of the lease but the guy he's so happy, I figured wait till they catch him and let him have a little fun."
"They caught him and made him get rid of the dog?" Alex said her voice full of sympathy.
The mayor told Stephens to take it to the shelter but I guess he didn't."
Comprehension dawn on Bobby's features, he turned to Alan. "Alan, how did you find out where Fluffy was?"
"He told me Fluffy was a fighter now."
"Stephens told you?"
"Yeah he showed me where Fluffy was being a fighter. I knew Fluffy didn't want to be no fighter so I went and got him."
"It's a wonder they didn't kill him." Alex said softly, indicating the men who used the dogs for gambling.
"Somehow, I doubt Fluffy was a courageous fighter." Bobby told her.
"Can I take him home now?" Guisseppe asked getting up from his seat.
"Yeah, you know, Guisseppe the guy is the mayor's brother. You would think the mayor would be able to get Fluffy declared some sort of service animal for his own brother. That way the apartment management would have to let Alan keep the dog."
"Hey, that's right." The older man's face lit up. "That's a great idea. I'll talk to the mayor about it tomorrow." The two men made their way to the bank of elevators.
Bobby straightened his shoulders and turned in his seat to face his partner. He expected her to continue berating him for his risky behavior in the park. What he found was a smile on her face and a look of pleasure in her eyes.
She got up from her chair and leaned toward him. "That was a very nice thing to do, Bobby." She bent forward and kissed his cheek. He could smell the lingering scent of an unfamiliar perfume still clinging to her clothes and hair. He turned around in his chair and watched her walked over to the elevators and disappear.
