A/N 1: For the past several weekends I've had to work from home, voting on behalf of about 100 people for the Pepsi Refresh Everything project, which my employer has entered (vying for a large wad of cash based on popular vote). It's made it hard to muster the energy for writing. Today (Sunday) is the last day before the end, thank God!

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN: DISDAIN

LVPD Lockup Las Vegas
9PM Monday evening

"When did you talk to him?" Shut up, SHUT UP! Although she was furious at herself for saying the words – playing Dreyfeus's game exactly as she'd been manoeuvred to – she spoke with resignation. The ADA was the magician, Alex was the audience, and the conversation with Bobby was the piece de la resistance… a rabbit drawn from a hat with a flourish. There was no other way this tableau was bound to play out; there was no point in resisting.

Like Miles Stone, she was slumped helpless in her own tomb, waiting for the cuts.

o.o.o.o.o

"You know, it isn't going to get easier. I mean, you really know." Dreyfeus stood impassively looking down at Alex through the bars in lockup at the Vegas HQ. As a high-profile suspect she got lots of attention, but that didn't mean special treatment, it seemed.

"I know," Alex admitted. She hated how wispy and fragile her voice sounded; partly from disuse, and partly from choking back… everything. She'd been there for hours, shivering in her shorts, tank top and flip-flops. No-one had offered her a sweater or a blanket, and she wasn't about to ask. She'd probably be given prison orange anyway.

"Then why are you doing this?" Dreyfeus spoke softly and without inflection. There was certainly no compassion in her mien, or any feeling at all really, but something in Alex responded, and she had to turn away and squeeze her eyes shut tight to force back the wetness.

"I'm not doing – anything," she gritted out. She heard a sound of disbelief from over her shoulder, the sound of footsteps, then quiet.

Even though she didn't trust a hair on the ADA's head, talking to someone outside the interview room had been – nice. She had been alone all day. She'd received calls from her attorney and her union rep, and no-one else. Which was her own choice, but still… New York, freedom, safety, her family, her career, felt very far away right now. Bobby felt so far away.

Why was she doing this? They knew she was hiding something… that was why they were riding her so hard. Was it worth the effort? Her partner, with his single-minded pursuit of knowledge and his occasional complete lack of respect for her boundaries, would undoubtedly get his hands on her interview transcripts eventually. She'd admitted in the interview to sleeping with Phillip, which was embarrassing enough. Had she even hinted at why? Was the pressure she was feeling, resisting investigators out here worth it? Would he figure it out anyway?

She missed him. She missed what she was afraid would be gone by the time she got back.

Alex took two blind steps towards the back of her cell, and, her forehead against the cold wall, finally gave in. She clutched her waist tightly as tears ran down her chin and onto the floor. Her breath came in soft gasps. She never imagined it would be this hard. That she would feel as if everything was slipping away.

After a few minutes, she wasn't cried out, but she'd indulged herself for as long as she intended to, and decided to close up shop and go back to business as usual. She cleaned herself up by stages, discreetly sniffing, then wiping her face and her chest with the hem of her tank top, then rubbing the wet spots off the wall with the palm of her hand.

She turned around to find Dreyfeus leaning against the far wall, watching.

o.o.o.o.o

"I'm sorry… I've intruded on a private moment."

Alex squared her shoulders, physically and psychically. Dreyfeus had made a mistake, and Alex suddenly felt on a more solid footing.

Yes, she'd had a moment of agony when she realised that the ADA had witnessed her weakness… a few moments, actually.

But she wasn't that easily bullied. What Dreyfeus didn't know – although she should, since she seemed to take her job seriously – was that Alex had ghost-written the book on intimidation tactics, both subtle and gross.

How to proceed? Self-effacing seemed called for. Alex smiled ruefully. "It's OK. I'm sure it's not the first breakdown you've witnessed." Or caused, was what she didn't say. Sniping at the ADA wouldn't be helpful. Alex shook her head and walked hesitantly towards the bars, reminded of a video she saw of a hyena trying to shuffle past a lioness to grab a pilfered bite.

"True," Dreyfeus agreed, and they shared a smile. The ADA maintained her position up against the far wall, and Alex, mindful of the image she presented, resisted the urge to grasp the bars on either side of her face. "So you haven't heard from your partner?"

Alex started in surprise.

"It's just," Dreyfeus continued quickly, "The desk Sergeant said you haven't had any calls, and," she paused, "Of course we're tracking your outgoing."

"No, I haven't," Alex replied. She really didn't know what else to say. Her head felt heavy and her mind unresponsive; she couldn't think.

The ADA shrugged delicately. "Because from what I hear," Alex blanched at the words, and at her interlocutor's carefully bland expression, "Your close professional working relationship used to be legendary. What changed?"

No, no, no, this wasn't happening. She did NOT want to talk about Bobby. White spots swam in the thick of her vision, and she finally grasped the bars to keep her balance. Yes, things with Bobby had been bad for a while, but lately they'd been better, much better. Better than ever, even. That Dreyfeus would drag her relationship with Bobby – by far the most important thing in her life – and shine a light on her failures, guilt and responsibility regarding their past challenges, was too much. "Used to be legendary, and still is."

"That's not what I heard."

Alex took a deep breath and stuck out her chin. "I don't know who you've been talking to," Phillip, "But you've heard wrong."

"Oh I don't think so," Dreyfeus said, and the hungry, calculating glint in her eye filled Alex with trepidation. Before she could respond, the ADA leapt forward energetically and changed tacks. "So why have you been holding out on us, Ms Eames?" She persisted in neutering Alex metaphorically, severing her ties to the success and prestige the title of Detective represented.

"I have spoken to you, Ms Dreyfeus, at length. And I will happily do so again." She struggled against the uneasy feeling that she was fighting a losing battle, and that the coup de grace was near at hand.

Dreyfeus leaned forward, bringing a whiff of Chanel N°5 – how traditional. "You know that that's not true, Ms Eames. Keeping things from us will not help your case – you know that as well."

Alex stood up straighter and sniffed. "I'm a seasoned and decorated officer, Ms Dreyfeus. I have cooperated fully with the investigation, and I will continue to do so. I won't, however, cooperate with a fishing trip or a witch hunt, and that's final." Whew, she felt better saying that.

"Then we'll charge you," Dreyfeus countered, unfazed by Alex's speech.

"Then my lawyer will tell you the same thing," Alex replied.

The ADA paused, looking down and sucking her teeth, and Alex felt that she'd scored a hit. Then why did she have to consciously stop herself from biting her lip? She swallowed heavily, hoping the other woman didn't notice.

"Is there someone in your life, Ms Eames?" The ADA's tempo changes were getting irritating. Alex imagined that she earned the wrath of many a judge if she was so obvious in court. "Because Phillip was obviously just a distraction." Phillip?

"A very pleasant one, nevertheless," Alex retorted. She crowed silently when Dreyfeus faltered.

But recovered quickly. "Indeed. Do you think your – relationship – with Phillip Becker was an excuse to avoid real intimacy, or your only respite from a complete lack of it?"

Alex just stared at her through the bars. She was through playing games.

"No need to be truculent, Ms Eames."

"I'm not being truculent. I don't fault you for listening to gossip in order to try to solidify your case. I've done the same many times." Alex tried to convey with her tone that it hadn't always turned out well.

"Gossip?" Dreyfeus tilted her head like a curious bird. "I wouldn't call it gossip if it comes from a credible source."

"I wouldn't call Phillip Becker a credible source."

"It wasn't Phillip Becker."

Something in her tone awoke something in Alex… something so familiar, yet so awful, that she couldn't bring herself to look at it.

Dreyfeus smiled a cutting, knowing smile. "Bobby said you would lie, prevaricate and negotiate. He didn't warn me that you'd do it so ham-handedly."

The words hung between them and stole Alex's breath as her heart dropped to her shoes. She tried to laugh. "He did not," she said with force but not conviction.

"I'm surprised you didn't call him. Since he was dependent on you for so many years, maybe it's his turn to return the favour."

"When did you talk to him?" The words that squeezed, unbidden, from between her lips were breathy and anguished. Dreyfeus was telling the truth. She'd manoeuvred Alex to this exact position, and Alex had played into her hands. Shut up, SHUT UP! But it was too late.

"Oh, we spoke on the phone earlier this afternoon." Dreyfeus reacted with subtle hunger to the pain and shock Alex could feel on her face. "He was on his way out for drinks, but he took a few minutes to fill me in."

Alex turned away and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She could practically hear the slavering through the bars. Emotional vampire. Why did Bobby always miss that?

"Don't worry, he doesn't think you're a murderer… I think he doubts you have it in you. We'll see if he's right about that… he's been wrong before. He has blind spots, hasn't he?"

Alex stood with her back to Dreyfeus, willing the primal scream from her throat. It was like LeZard all over again. She'd never told Bobby, but she knew that he'd met with her, told her things. Leslie LeZard was no Nicole Wallace; she hadn't the patience or the imagination to get what she needed from the library. The things she needed to cut them both down, Bobby as well as her. That was part of what she meant by, 'All your wounds are self-inflicted.' It wasn't the first time his compulsion to over-share with dangerous women he barely knew had come back to bite him. And her.

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WORDS: 1906 UPLOADED Sunday, October 31, 2010