“Skirmish, Pt. 1” by Scripted Starlet

Rating: T

Disclaimer: The only place I own Goren & Co. is in my dreams.

Setting: About a week after “Intercession” ends. This will probably be confusing if you haven’t read that story beforehand. Sorry. Just a silly little blurb with no plot and much poof. Posted in two parts to cover two perspectives. (Guess which two...)

Based on a suggestion from a great fanfic reader/reviewer, Gail. This one is for you, babe!

A.N. My unrelenting goal is to write as much as Marion. Maybe that’s why I got on this story so quickly… You can thank my lovely beta by leaving her ridiculously long reviews on that fabulous epic of hers.

Alex

“Alone again, huh?”

Foreign fingertips traced the curve of my shoulder, making me wish that I hadn’t gone strapless for the evening.

Not bothering to turn around, I shook the jerk off and sipped my Bloody Mary with festering fury. Hadn’t I been through enough in the past twelve hours? Was it really this difficult for a working woman to find even a shred of downtime?

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t remember me, Alex.”

At the mention of my name I forgot my annoyance and became curious. Swinging my legs around the stool, my mouth dropped in surprise.

“Hi,” I said weakly.

“Hey,” he replied. “I saw you when walking in. At first I thought it wasn’t you but then you came into the light. And so it was…”

Biting my lip for pause, I wondered just how many times I had danced with this man that he was talking to me so amicably. He looked familiar, all right. And I knew I must’ve met him here last weekend. Nevertheless, I couldn’t place him on an individual level.

“I’m sorry,” I admitted, “I seem to have forgotten your name.”

For a moment there the guy seemed crestfallen. But when it became clear that I wasn’t being cruel and was honestly embarrassed, he smiled softly. “That’s all right. We’d both had a few, hadn’t we?”

Except that a few equaled a lot for me. I could hide it well enough, but I’d certainly had a lot last Saturday night.

No longer thirsty, I took the stalk of celery between my fingers and began stirring my drink aimlessly. “I know I did. Aren’t you going to reintroduce yourself?”

I took him in again. Pretty man, I thought passively. Bright green eyes. Sandy brown hair. Slightly effeminate features. And a weedy, boyish frame. He looked just like my type. From maybe five or six years ago.

Certainly the sort of man I would’ve been attracted to before Bobby Goren ruined me for anyone less than the tall, dark, and taxingly quirky.

Right, Bobby.

Uggh, no doubt he was still roaming around with Logan somewhere. Shooting the breeze and sharing a basket of fried whatever while I sat here and sulked. Why did I even bother to come? I was so mad at him. And besides opening the door for me as I stepped out of the car, Goren hadn’t done nearly enough to make things up to me. It seemed so wrong that the master of intuition didn’t understand why I was upset.

And why do men always try to pigeonhole women’s feelings, anyway? Why do they categorize and qualify when they ought to know that we are a complex species and our thoughts run so much deeper than that. So much deeper than the testosterone laced pettiness that fuels their sensibilities.

The first test of our new relationship and he fails! He fails and then he accuses me of being insecure with myself when it’s obvious that he doesn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. If anyone was insecure in this matter, it was Bobby.

No way was I going home with him tonight. And no way was I taking him home with me, either. I didn’t care how good last week’s makeup sex was or how back-achingly busy we’d been the past six days. If he wanted me again then he was going to have to beg for it. He was going to have to fight for it.

One hour and some odd minutes earlier...

“Let’s stay in,” I begged, fighting him as he tried to push me away.

“I promised Mike,” he said breathlessly. “He’s been looking forward to this all week.”

“So have I.” I tightened my curl around him and started kissing his neck. Searching for that one spot that drove him crazy. “Bobby, please.”

“Alex, we don’t have time for a quickie right now.”

“Then we’ll take our time.”

“And stand him up?”

“No.” I shook my head restlessly. “Call him up. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“That we ditched him for sex?” Goren was aghast at the thought.

“As if he wouldn’t do the same to us,” I snorted, loosening Bobby’s tie to make room for my mouth. “Why don’t you just tell him to go see Carolyn? Working up the courage to hold her hand ought to take him at least half the evening. We’ll be done by then.”

“Be nice,” Bobby warned. “And get up.”

He pried me off of him with his hands around my waist, lifting me up and setting me down gently on the other side of the bed.

That’s one of the downsides of being with such a big man. They always think they can get away with hauling you here and there like a sack of potatoes.

Watching him open a closet that was twice the size of mine and pull out a designer jacket, I grumbled at the thought of Bobby putting on more clothes when I had been fantasizing about less. It just wasn’t fair. And I knew I had readily agreed to this forgive-and-forget night on Monday but that was before Marcia Jameson, coma victim slash murder suspect, woke up—sending both Goren and I on a wild goose chase.

We had scrambled and scoured to find her late husband’s brother who—reportedly—had planned the murder with her, sans Napoli. Something about his wanting inheritance and having a deep-seated obsession with Marcie… God, who even cares anymore. We’d just caught him this morning in Maine of all places. Talk about raging road trips and rounds of frostbite. It had been a speedy arrest, culminating in a forty-five minute interrogation showdown once we’d gotten back to New York.

After Michael Jameson had given himself up and Robert Goren was purring like a Cheshire cat, I’d gone home and taken a nap. And then spent a good hour primping and polishing so that I would look decent tonight. But the moment my partner had opened the door… looking and smelling like everything a woman could ever want… I’d lost it.

Five and a half days. Five and a half days without Bobby in my bed. How had I even survived?

“You look forlorn,” he commented, leaning down and pecking my cheek in a purely sexless manner. “Cheer up, Eames. Logan will be here any second.”

Woo-hoo.

“Great, Mike.” My voice was dry and colorless. “Just who I’ve been planning on ravishing for God knows how long.”

“I love how I can laugh at that now,” he teased, taking me into his arms so that we were standing and I was dangerously close to drooling. “Alex, we’ll be home before you know it. And then we have all of tomorrow. I’ve got something planned. Just you and me.”

“Of course you do,” I sighed. “Go ahead, make me look like the lazy one.”

“I’m never going to get anything but lip from you, am I?”

“That wasn’t lip, Goren. That was snark. There’s a difference and don’t you forget it.”

Offering me a quizzical look, Bobby went to use the bathroom while I dawdled around anxiously, every so often giving those sheets of his a longing glance. It was during one of those longing glances that I saw it. Slender and metallic. Glimmering and shimmering from beneath the bed. Crouching down to pick it up, my heart stopped when I brought the object into plain view. It was a tube of lipstick.

I don’t even wear lipstick.

“Alex, did you bring a sweater or something because it’s cold tonight and you’re—”

He stopped when he saw me. When he saw what I was holding.

And I was afraid to look up. Afraid that once I did he would confirm my worst fears and lay waste to the glow I’d been sporting since he came to my apartment last week and told me he loved me. A love that was supposed to be of conviction and confidence.

When I saw the guilty expression on his face my spine went rigid.

“Whose is this?” I asked carefully. Steadily. Not so much as a tremble to offset the calm.

The eye of the storm.

“That would be Sheila’s.”

I closed my eyes briefly and then said, “This isn’t from before, is it, Bobby.”

And it wasn’t a question.

“No.”

“She’s been here since,” I murmured. Since us.

“She was here…” he hesitated, “earlier. Uh, a few hours ago.”

Today. The unspoken word resounded, bouncing off the walls and rolling through the ground beneath my feet.

“In your bedroom,” I concluded, having heard enough. I started to walk out.

“Alex, wait!” Bobby was on me before I could even get halfway out of the apartment. “Alex, you can’t possibly think that I would—”

“Don’t presume to know what I think, Goren!”

“Alex, she just stopped by. That’s it! She said she’d left something else here. She was in and out, and it was—”

“Stopped by?” I repeated numbly. I couldn’t feel my hand, but I knew it was just itching to slap him. “Honestly, Bobby, what do you take me for, an idiot?”

“No!” His speech was strangled as he bent over and grabbed my shoulders. “I love you, Alex. I would never cheat on you. I don’t even care about that woman—”

“It’s not about that!” I shoved him. Hard. “It’s not about that at all. Don’t you get it, Bobby? You weren’t going to tell me!”

“What?!” And he was genuinely shocked.

Sucking the air in through my teeth, I attempted to keep from quivering. “She was here. A woman you slept with and who you know I hate. You let her in. And you weren’t going to tell me.”

“But what does that have to do with—”

“It has to do with trust!” I snapped, throwing my purse down on the floor so that my arms would be free to punctuate. “It has to do with honesty. This relationship didn’t start from scratch, Bobby. We’ve known each other for five years. Five years and yet you don’t trust me at all!”

“Alex, listen to me,” he said seriously, his face having lost a lot of its panic. As though he was about to lecture me in the ways of why I was being stupid. “It didn’t matter. She doesn’t matter. There was no reason to tell you.”

“Why do you keep acting like I’m the irrational one?”

I dared him to say it. Dared him to utter the words: Because you are.

Bobby’s mouth opened and shut, refusing to fall into the trap. Conjuring up a response with his knuckles against his lips, he breathed deep and tried again…

“Alex, believe me, nothing happened.”

“I didn’t think that anything happened!” I burst out, unable to take it any longer. “I never said that I thought anything happened. I know that you love me, Bobby. I get that. What I don’t get is why you didn’t tell me!”

“Well, maybe I was right not to tell you!” he shouted all of the sudden, throwing me off balance. “If this is how you’re reacting.”

Silence.

He and I gaped at one another. Incredulous in the aftermath of our first real fight as a real couple. It was strange. It was daunting. It was—

The buzzer rang.

“That’s Mike,” he said quietly, enunciating the obvious.

Nodding in deference, I reached for my purse and then straightened. Catching his eye, I said something I’d had to say in many a relationship before him:

“We’ll talk about this later.”

…

“I should apologize,” the near stranger told me.

The timeliness of such a statement shook me from my thoughts.

“We didn’t exactly part on such good terms. That’s what I came over here to do, actually. Say I’m sorry.”

“For what?” My grip tightened on the glass. Fancying the notion that he’d done something so awful it would warrant my throwing my Mary in his face.

Now that would make me feel better.

“We were dancing and you… you seemed like,” he winced as he struggled to rephrase, “I asked if you wanted to go home with me. And that doesn’t mean that I thought you’d go and I certainly didn’t mean to disrespect you, I just… I thought we clicked, y’know?”

And then something did click.

“Mitch!” I said loudly, startling the bartender into spilling whatever he’d been mixing. “Sorry—oh, yes, I remember now.”

“You do?” He was scared.

“I do. And you’re right. It wasn’t exactly good terms but don’t worry about it. My night turned out really great. So great that I couldn’t care less about anything that happened here.”

He gave a tight nod. “The other detective?”

My eyebrows rose momentarily before I realized that he was talking about Mike.

“Hah, no. To be straight with you, Mitch, that guy is actually my coworker. He just saw us and pegged me for the damsel in distress. Hence the cutting in,” I shrugged.

He blinked. “Well, I’d hate to think I was causing you ‘distress’…”

“You weren’t,” I blurted quickly, patting the seat alongside me.

He’s already apologized, I reasoned, and I don’t want to hang out here alone until Bobby does the same.

“So how’s the magazine business?” I chirped pleasantly, my lips parting when I caught sight of them. Goren and Logan staring at me from the corner of the room. And if my eyes didn’t deceive me, it looked as though my new lover was none-too-happy with the company I was keeping.

Crossing my legs then, I acted as though I hadn’t spotted them at all and, leaning over the bar flirtatiously, I pretended to drink some more.

“It’s going all right. Although the other day we had to suspend one of our best columnists. Turns out he has an opium problem.”

“You didn’t fire him?” My fingers tried to twirl an impossibly straight strand of hair.

“No. It’s a real problem but he’s got a family of four. And his work is stellar. If he comes back from N.A. clean and clear, then there’s no reason not to take him back.”

“I can respect that,” I said honestly, recalling why I’d kinda sorta been interested in this man in the first place.

“Do you want me to get you another drink?”

I frowned then. “I’m not quite done with this one.”

“Yeah, but you’re not quite enjoying it, either. I noticed you keep tasting and not drinking.”

Aw, shit. Way to play it cool, Eames.

“I guess I’m not in the mood.” I nudged the glass to the left and deflated somewhat. This was useless. Nothing was going to be all right until Bobby made it all right.

“I could buy you a shot. Something lighter and faster.”

“No, really, it’s okay,” I protested, chuckling uncomfortably. I wasn’t sure whether he was being extra nice or extra pushy.

“Alex, it’s Saturday,” he practically chided, and when he put his hand on my knee—that’s when I knew he was being pushy.

“Mitch, take your hand off me,” I said evenly, not even worrying about myself but worrying about the two hundred and fifteen pounds of Armani that were hurriedly making their way over to us.

This is going to be bad.

But instead of following my direction, Mitch squeezed confidently. “Hey, I’m not trying to make anything happen with you, Alex. At least not tonight. But what do you think of getting out of here? I knew other places. Better places.”

Like your apartment building?

“If these places are so much better then why do you keep showing up here, Mitch?”

He laughed loudly. “See? Now this is what I like about you—”

“Mitch,” I interrupted, “I’m warning you.”

I saw no need to remove him myself with Bobby less than ten feet away.

“What’s the problem?” he baited, and then extended his forefinger so that it grazed my upper thigh. I was instantly repulsed. “It’s not that guy again, is it? You shouldn’t keep doing this to yourself. There are plenty of men out there who would kill for a chance with a woman like you. Myself included.”

Oh, how flattering, I gagged inwardly, eyes widening when Goren finally materialized behind the guy’s back.

Something in my expression must’ve tipped Mitch off… or maybe he sensed the breadth of the shadow behind him… either way, his grip suddenly loosened.

I studied Bobby’s face coolly. Noting the passion. The fire. The pain.

And he’d dubbed me the jealous one?

“Mitch,” I said crisply, “I’d like you to meet my boyfriend.”

…

A.N.

Besides having a serious case of the sillies, this was my way of not-so-tactfully putting an end to the whole Napoli business. Seriously, that part of the story was never meant to be front and center in “Intercession”. It was merely a plot device to highlight sexual tension. (I may try my hand at a real case file one day… although I doubt it’ll ever be as good as E. Helena, Gidget89 or FluffyCSI’s takes.)