A/N 1: Sorry for the long wait! The characters kept bugging me with tiny little, conflicting details they insisted I include. Also, I lied. In the first chapter, I said that this fic wouldn't jump back and forth chronologically. This is the first of many chapters… I have basically written the whole middle third of this fic. It just needs some polishing. Then it's on to the interrogation(s)! Brief mentions of several Seasons 6, 7, and maybe 8 episodes.
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CHAPTER ELEVEN: REFRACTORY PERIOD
Las Vegas
4PM Sunday afternoon
For the first time in 11 years, she didn't want to be here.
As she took the welcome package being handed to her by a twitchy woman about her own age who looked like she'd smelled something foul, Alex thought about just turning tail and running away.
There was no reason for anyone here to care about what had happened between her and Phillip; the two of them had both been single and discreet, and anyways, hookups were par for the course at conferences of every stripe. Not that she'd ever thought of herself as a hookup girl, but there you go.
But it was clear that they did. Care. And in a trice, she was twenty-something again, on her first day at the Academy, her father telling her to listen to her gut and never do anything as a cop she'd be ashamed to tell her family. Every I told you so she'd ever heard hooking into her skin like burrs.
It had started last year, actually. After she dumped Phil in the bar – admittedly an unclassy move, although she wouldn't have taken it back for the world – she'd been stuck on what he'd said about her and men… a clear reference to the events between Tates and Testarossa. The events between her and Bobby.
She'd never thought of Phil as a vengeful person, and although he was a good investigator, she didn't think he cared enough about her to follow her progress or delve into her personal life, but it appeared she was wrong. Alex didn't have many real friends here, but she'd asked one woman she trusted, if there had been gossip. She'd learnt that she and Bobby, and Phil, were the talk of the conference. Someone knew a lot, and they'd been spreading it around. Not only about her affair with Phillip and their breakup, but about hers and Bobby's private and professional activities back in New York.
Joe's name had even been mentioned.
These people were law enforcement. People she loved to boast about being the best of the best, at the top of their game. After she and Bobby had arrested Manny Beltran, Joe's picture had been in the paper, along with Quinn, Delgado, both perps, the investigators and Moran.
A year had gone by, but it seemed nothing had been forgotten. Other participants looked askance at her, and the reactions from people of long acquaintance was chilly.
She stepped off to the side after checking in, feeling glum. The thought of people knowing about her, talking about her, and worse yet about Bobby, filled her with dread and despair. Losing the support and friendship of these women over stupid fucking Phillip of all people. Or to put it another way, fucking stupid Phillip, she thought with irony. Bringing judgement and hostility upon herself, and exposing the vulnerabilities and indiscretions of her most precious, beloved relationship. What had she done? And how was she going to get through this week?
Yes, she'd been happy with Phillip, and she'd told herself so many times that she'd needed that relationship, but clearly, it hadn't been worth it. Looking around at all the clever faces, she cringed at her own stupidity. The more people knew the truth about her indiscretion, the greater likelihood Bobby would find out. And that she could not bear. Of all the men in the world she could have chosen…
As she looked down the line of greeting tables, she saw the back of Phillip's head. He was turned away, talking to the woman sitting next to him. These people were cops. They'd soon put it together. And if they couldn't, it seemed that Phil would probably help them along.
o.o.o.o.o
After briefly entertaining the notion of just taking her bag and walking out, she gave herself a stern talking to. Told herself to pull it together, shake it off, and soldier on. She'd done it before. She wasn't going to let her late-blooming shame over her choice of lovers, or the fallout thereto, keep her from sticking it out. And having a good time, dammit!
As she made her way to the elevators that would take her up to her room, Alex knew that the subtle difference in how people were treating her wasn't just in her mind. She felt as she had at the Quinns' house after the funeral; mistrusted, mocked, the object of whispers.
Before the doors closed, Phillip stepped into the elevator, along with the woman he'd been talking to. The twice-familiar Lieutenant looked tousled and relaxed – more relaxed than she'd ever seen him. The petite woman looked demurely at Alex's feet, giving her a good look at the brunette's unremarkable features. Then Phil grunted and she looked up at him, and Alex's eyebrows rose in surprise… Phil's companion (for that's what she surely was) transformed, becoming instantly beautiful, and Alex knew exactly why. Aaah, so this is how it is.
"Alexandra," Phil murmured, "Have you met Nina?"
She racked her brain. "I…"
"Carruthers," the brunette said, holding her hand out. "From Tahoe. We sat at the same table at breakfast a few times, and I was a co-presenter of the Forensics Core Competencies seminar last year; I'm sure you wouldn't remember." She spoke humbly and without rancor.
Before she could reply, Phil continued. "So, is now a good time for that conversation you were convinced I wanted to have in person?"
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A/N 2: In my mind, Nina Carruthers has the same chameleon quality as Julianna Margulies (and Kathryn Erbe, for that matter)… they are women whose beauty comes not from their features, but from their hearts. JM is who I pictured when I wrote the elevator scene.
Pleeease review! Reviews make my cheeks plump and my lips pink! In other words, they stop me from turning into a lifeless china doll…
WORDS: 1079 UPLOADED Thursday, September 30, 2010
