“Keepsake, Pt. 1” by Scripted Starlet

(Post-ep to “Brother’s Keeper”)

Rating: T/M. Anyone can partake of the first chapter, though.

Disclaimer: Clearly I have no control or authority over what happens in the Law and Order: CI Universe. If I did then the episode would have ended a lot differently, as follows...

Setting: Eh, I think I went over that already.

A.N. Marion sent some extremely valuable notes this time around. Makes me all the more appreciative of her. :D

Written on behalf of a challenge extended by GraciePie. (We’re trying to out-smut each other.) A strange lil’ piece of quixotic fluff dedicated to you, darling.

…

This could all be a mistake, she thinks. Right now she feels as though her body is spilling out from beneath her and the laxity is disconcerting. She’s never considered herself a loose woman, and she’s wondering does he?

His mind is blank as he flips her onto her back, causing her to kick from either objection or suspense. The selfish part of him prefers the latter possibility and so he kisses her. Eliminating any grievance with his tongue and teeth. The heat is rising and there is nothing between them but lust, limbs, and maybe a few lies that they’re sidestepping in the interests of submersion.

I should say something…

But instead she is moaning. It has been far too long since a man has touched her like this and damned if she isn’t attractive and starved for affection. Her eyes are brightened when he runs his fingers down her neck and her senses are giddy when he burrows there, infusing her with a crisp, clean masculine scent. She likes soothing his broad back and would enjoy it even more were it not for the t-shirt and sweater.

“Will you stay?” he asks her. His words are whispered, no—rasped into the shell of her ear, triggering a seesaw of ache and anxiety. In that moment Alex is saddled with conscience and Bobby doesn’t know what he’ll do if she denies him. Ostensibly he is aware that he could have coerced her if he’d just kept going. But he needs her willing, and he’s never had a woman who was less.

“Do you want me to?”

Very much, he thinks. Almost too much.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Who…” She licks her lips and he worries she can smell his desperation. “Who’s going to clean up the mess?”

Another kiss. “I’m not a sloppy lover.”

She is not easily distracted. “That’s not what I meant.”

Bobby groans lamely.

“I know.”

So this is it? His gaze seems slippery and Alex is tense at the crossroads. This is what you have for me?

“I want to help you, Bobby…” She rises to a seat and brushes some invisible crumbs from her lap. Classic evasion technique, he deflates. “But I’m not sure if we can heal anything in the bedroom.”

“If this is a pity fuck then you can forget it.”

Her head swings and there’s no mistaking the hurt on his face. He’s furious with her and he’s not about to hide it.

“Honestly, Eames, you should just leave.”

She grabs his hand, squeezing with all the sincerity she can muster.

“I am very attracted to you.”

He softens, and she waits until that sleepy look overtakes him again before she laces her fingers with his. “Very, very attracted, Bobby.”

Her mouth is nearing his and, swallowing his pride, he allows her to demonstrate.

“Please stay.” Bobby has tasted her one time too many and now he can’t help himself. “Really. It would mean so much if you stayed.”

“If I stay I won’t be able to resist you,” she warns, and how Alex could ever deem that to be a problem he’ll never know. “It’s safer that I go.”

“You’re safe with me. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“You’re missing the obvious here—I wouldn’t want you to.” She swipes her hair sideways and then sags against him. “Damn, Goren. How’d we end up like this?”

He wraps an arm around her, breathing and thinking beside her temple. Neither one of them wanting to admit that their current predicament was nothing short of inevitable.

…

“Can I come up?”

They are parked outside Bobby’s apartment. He had tried to take the subway but Alex refused to let him out of her sight. He feels like a ball of used yarn. Gray and frayed and not worth a cat’s keeping. She sees all this. And she doesn’t want him to roll away.

“What for?”

He is shooting for standoffish. Snide if he scores. But their relationship is still unstable, and there’s only so far he can push it without risking everything.

“I could use some coffee.”

Bobby purses his lips and rubs the back of his neck. He looks young, she observes. So young that it’s bringing out the mother she’ll never be. She longs to tuck him in. She yearns to make sure that he drinks his milk and skips the scotch.

“It wasn’t him, Eames,” he exhales tiredly. The street is bitter and cold and he can’t wait to get inside. “I’m fine, okay?”

“I know that you’re fine. This doesn’t have to be about him.”

I miss you, Alex’s mind screams.

But the mind-reader ignores her.

“We used to talk, Bobby.” Her words are wistful and they do the trick. “About everything.”

Bobby is both alarmed and annoyed. He wants to snap at her to stop quivering. Stop looking at him like she’s in dire need of a hug. She’s stronger than that and he knows it.

Who do you think you’re fooling?

“I used to be able to make you laugh,” she says, stung with nostalgia. “You used to ask about my weekend. What I’m feeling, how I’m doing… we were close, remember? And even though I never said it you know it was something that I valued.”

Took for granted, even, she adds silently. What she wouldn’t give to have it back.

“Was?” And now Bobby is just plain alarmed. He reaches over and nudges her lightly. “You’re still one of my closest friends, Eames.”

“Am I?” She stares at him, hard-faced. “You’re uncomfortable around me. You’ve made that clear enough. When was the last time I even saw your place?”

“It hasn’t changed. I haven’t changed. I’m still the same guy…”

“But we’ve changed,” she sighs, looking out the window. “We’ve changed a lot. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it.”

“I… I thought you said we were okay.”

“I said I hoped, Bobby. I said I hoped.”

He doesn’t like this. Her eyes are dull and light years away. He’s got that awful swimmy feeling in his stomach that says the whole world has just dumped on him and now she’s about to dump on him, too. If he lets it happen.

“Eames, would you like to come upstairs?”

She smiles. And it’s only then that he realizes how much he’s missed it.

“I’d love to.”

The walk up is quiet.

…

Their first sips are quiet.

Quiet and awkward as hell.

“How is it?” Alex murmurs. Mostly to make conversation.

“Good.” Bobby puts down his coffee and grunts restlessly. “But I could really go for a cigarette.”

“Then have one. This is your apartment. I wouldn’t mind.”

The remote control is only inches away. He imagines what she might say if he asks for permission to tune out.

“Don’t tempt a man when he’s weak.”

“Bobby, I…” Alex trails off, her lips tight when he offers her something very close to a glare.

“What, Eames?”

Her foot starts to shake out of nervousness. He obviously doesn’t want her here. And she’s beginning to forget why she wanted to be here in the first place.

“Hey.” Bobby’s hand clamps on her knee, turning her thigh to stone. “You okay?”

I’m being a prick, he thinks. Of course she’s not okay. Like Eames doesn’t know passive-aggressive when she sees it.

Alex is blinking. Her face strangely warm. It’s been three months since her partner’s so much as laid a finger on her and now that it’s back she feels… different. Changed indeed.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” She crosses her legs deliberately, throwing him off in the process. “Listen, if you want me to go you can just say the word.”

“How’s your nephew?” he says purposefully, and it relaxes her.

“Nate’s great.” Over her shoulder Alex snatches her handbag and plucks out her wallet. She flips through the pictures until she finds the right one. “Here. The ‘Happy Holidays’ getup.”

Bobby takes the photograph and studies it. “He still looks more like you than he does either of his parents.”

“Ya think?”

“Yeah. He’s beautiful, Eames.”

Alex’s heart melts. “Thanks. I think so.”

“Did I ever give you your Christmas present?” he asks abruptly. The air is not so stagnant anymore and Bobby’s searching for anything to facilitate the warm and fuzzy.

“No.” She is bemused. “I thought your showing up at my door and saying you were ready to work again was present enough.”

“Ouch,” he says. “Talk about a guilt trip.”

“You fork it over and I’ll call it even.”

“You’ve got a deal.” He hands her back her wallet and heads towards the living room closet. Alex squirms on the couch. She’s suddenly so very happy that she can hardly contain it.

“Should I close my eyes?”

“No need. It’s already wrapped.”

“Should I start a carol?”

“Not with your singing voice.”

Bobby’s half bent when the throw pillow whacks his back.

“Okay—” He straightens and turns to her resentfully, a large man with a large box. “—now we’re even.”

Alex smirks. “Oh, Tannenbaum, oh, Tannenbaum…”

“Or I could always throw it out the window…?”

“Don’t you dare!” she squeals, holding out her arms and wearing an expression that reads ‘gimme, gimme, gimme’.

Bobby laughs unabashedly and Alex is taken aback by how sweet it sounds.

When he sets it down between them instead of on her lap, he feels inclined to explain. “It’s heavy.”

“I can see that.” The sofa dips under its weight. “What is it?”

“Why do you always ask?” he chuckles. “And why always when it’s in front of you, too?”

“I don’t like surprises.”

It’s a half-truth. She sort of likes surprises, but she likes badgering surprise-bearers even more.

Old habits die hard, Alex grumbles, struggling with the curly gold bow. Bobby hands her a Swiss army knife that he’s pulled out of god knows where and she grins gratefully before slicing the package right down its middle. Layers of paper are parted and torn and then… her breath catches in her throat. Spellbound, the tiny woman can do nothing but stare at the giant espresso machine from none other than Williams-Sonoma. And after the shock wears off her mouth begins to water. As do her eyes.

“It’s perfect.”

Bobby’s rather embarrassed by her reaction, but it feels really good and he can’t look away.

“It had you written all over it,” he shrugs. “The most high-maintenance thing in the store.”

She pays his teasing no heed.

“I love it, Bobby. This must’ve cost you a fortune.”

“I don’t buy that many Christmas gifts,” he reminds her. And she is both touched and saddened by the thought.

“Help me move it.”

“I thought you liked it.”

“So I can hug you, you idiot.”

Bobby lifts the box and sets it down on the floor. She’s in the arms then and—if only for a moment—filling his heart with warmth.

“What took you so long to give it to me?” she asks, moving back to her respective side.

“I don’t know.” He eyes her hand and considers holding it. “Things were just… strained. And they stayed strained. It never seemed to be the right time.”

“We have to make the right time, Bobby.”

“Sure. I get that now.”

“Good.”

He’s starting to get back in the groove. The ebb and flow of being in her company. It’s making him want to kick off his shoes. It’s making him want to talk about music and movies and everything inconsequential.

“How’s your mother?”

And just like that, Bobby is overwrought. Helplessly neurotic, he opens his mouth and then closes it, flopping like a fish out of water. Alex quickly withdraws the question.

“Forget it.” She’s seizing up. Pondering the various escape routes. “I know it’s not my place...”

“She’s dying.”

Alex’s head jerks.

“She probably won’t make it to summer.”

“Oh, Bobby.” She’d like to coax him onto her chest but hasn’t the slightest idea how to go about it. “I’m so sorry.”

“We’ve exhausted every option,” he’s muttering, not looking at her but at the wide, gaping abyss in front of him. “Nothing took. All that money, all those doctors and all we managed to do was delay. Delay, delay, delay. And she’s fed up. I mean Mom’s always been… difficult but lately, God, it’s been so much worse. She won’t even take her medication if she can help it.

“She’s either on a high or a low or sometimes—when they call me in—she’s in excruciating pain. And she blames me, Eames. And I want to do more but I can’t be with her every second. I can’t afford any more treatments. You know, I try to give her hope. I try to tell her that about other specialists, newer research… medical—” his voice breaks, “—miracles but as it is she’s… she’s already living on borrowed time.”

“She doesn’t blame you, honey. Not really.”

He turns his back to her. Head in hands, he allows himself a fraction of a shudder and then fights to reign it all in. There’s a storm brewing inside of him, and he never meant to drag Alex into it.

“Bobby, it’s not your fault.”

She is clumsy with concern. Her fingers are fumbling and she doesn’t trust herself to do anything more than stroke his arm.

“I’ve watched you for years. You always put her first. You always did everything you could. Any mother would be lucky to have a son like you.”

What it’s going to be like when she’s gone? he’s thinking. What’s it going to be like when I’m alone? All alone?

“I’ll be here,” Alex says, and when he stiffens she bites her lip. “I’m not saying that I have to be, Bobby. I wouldn’t want to intrude but still… I’m here if you need me. I’d like to help.”

“Eames, can we… can we please we not do this tonight?”

She recoils. Slapped in her caring little face.

“I know that you’re here for me,” he says immediately, clucking his tongue at his own impudence. “But I’m not there yet. My mom’s not gone yet.”

“But when she is…” Alex hates herself for rubbing salt on the wound, but she needs his reassurance. “Bobby, when she is—”

“You’ll be there,” he finishes.

She nods then. But it is a watery concurrence to which Bobby has to respond. Moving slantwise, he tugs her towards him and kisses her forehead, something he’s never done but is feeling just pathetic enough to try. It’s nice, they think. And it’s so nice on Alex’s end that she says the first thing that comes to mind.

“You know your brother looks nothing like you.”

A surprised Bobby is always graceful. Nothing but rolled lips and high brow.

“Yeah, well, Frank takes after Mom. I take after my father.”

“No, you don’t,” she blurts.

He starts sharply and her eyes slit. Darting on reflex when he tries to catch them. It occurs to Bobby then that she doesn’t know much but she knows enough. And, whatever she’s thinking, it’s the kindest thing she’s ever said to him.

He leans over to kiss her cheek. The soft skin is beginning to paper with age and he likes that. Likes that she’s mature enough to have some notion of pain and death and all the eventualities that plague him. But once his lips land there is a shift. A misdirection as Alex stirs and Bobby smiles.

They freeze.

Fastened at the mouth.

It takes a few moments but suddenly, inextricably—Alex opens. Just enough to make it more than an accident. More than a contingency. The night is dark then. Blackened by invitation.

Her partner stills. And while he’s calculating errors and means she’s fearing a cordial (but nevertheless painful) rejection. Another sliver of a second passes before Alex decides that she wants to run. Wants to hide. Wants to pretend she never did anything so stupid as to try to entice a man who regards her as a sister at most and a colleague at least.

But then Bobby opens. And electricity slides down their spines.

Eyes are wide and neither person dares to breathe in the midst of their exploring. His tongue grazes hers tentatively, and the jolt of muscle on muscle is hot enough to send them both into flames. She shivers, her legs climbing into his lap of their own volition. His fingers unfurl. Clutching the bones of her hips as he sucks her. Wants her. And it’s all happening so fast that he can’t account for the reasons. He’s busy, actually. Thinking about how much better this would be if they were naked and how much sweeter she would be if she was beneath him.

Unbeknownst to Bobby, Alex’s thoughts are not that far behind.

…

“Don’t leave,” he whispers. He’s been saying it over and over for the past seven minutes.

Alex whimpers. She doesn’t know why she let him back on top.

“Bobby, I have to.”

“I’ll take the couch.”

“You’re too big for the couch.”

“Then I’ll take the floor.”

“You really think I’d kick you out of your own bed? When I have a perfectly nice one uptown...”

“Almost an hour away,” he says critically, leaving a trail of tender kisses upon her chin. As far as he’s concerned, if he can convince her to stay the night then his work is half done.

“Sex can wait,” he tells her, running his hands all over the green zones. Nowhere dangerous. Nowhere improper. “Is it so wrong that I want to be with you?”

“And do what?”

She’s dampening. He’s being a perfect gentleman and it’s only fitting that he would exploit such an antiquated weakness.

“Sleep.”

“But the whole point of sleep is to gain perspective. How are we supposed to gain any perspective on us and what this means if we’re together?”

“I know what it means,” he growls, capturing her in deep-throated kiss that leaves her swimming in vibration. “You mean a lot to me.”

“I swear to God, Goren,” she threatens, “if you’re only saying this to get in my pants—”

“There’s more to you than your pants.”

Alex closes her eyes and wills his lips off her neck. She’s spilling again. Every word coming out of his mouth is considerate and consistent and it’s making her want to take off his pants and more.

“Mmm, Bobby…”

“You know Frank thought you were my wife,” he says, gazing down at her ruminatively.

Alex’s eyes round. Her mind reeling with images of him doing dishes and her dusting furniture. Him kissing her good morning and her loving him good night. It’s a strange thought. Domestic bliss with one Robert O. Goren.

“He’s not the first person to have just… assumed,” Bobby prods.

“I suppose.” She doesn’t want to let on that she’s curious. “We do an awful lot of the Mr. and Mrs. shtick though. In our line of work…”

“No, Eames, what I mean is that people see it.” His thumb brushes her lip and she resists the urge to lick. “Hell, I’m beginning to see it.”

“Bobby, what exactly are you telling me here?” she asks, dying to get it out and the open. “What exactly are you promising me?”

“Do you need me to promise you something?”

“Yes.”

He frowns slightly. “What?”

“Promise me that this is not just about tonight. Promise me that this is not just about convenience.”

“Convenience?” he snorts. “You’re my partner. This is about as inconvenient as it gets.”

Alex chews on that for a moment.

“But are you really ready for more, Bobby? I know you respect me. I know that you like me. But would you really want me as… as a woman?”

And not just a lover, she pleads inwardly. Not just as a distraction from whatever personal hell you’re going through.

Bobby studies her. He sees that she is on pins and needles. Scattered and barbed across a carpet worn thin.

I’ve been so unfair to Eames, he thinks. She cares about me. More than she should. I saw that when she was on the stand at the Garrett trial. And maybe that’s what did it… maybe that’s what tainted me because all this while I’ve been punishing her. For something I couldn’t have. For something that she dangled and I thought she couldn’t give me. But she was always willing.

I was just never willing to take advantage.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” she’s saying. And the very idea of it is so utterly ridiculous that he can’t even conjure a response. “And if tonight were any other night, Bobby, I’d probably already be in your bed by now but you… you’re not exactly yourself and I—I want more than that. I don’t sleep with men lightly. And if you don’t want the same things I do then it’d be worse, you know? We’d be taking advantage of each other.”

“That’s it?” He raises an eyebrow and extends the challenge. “That’s your only excuse?”

Her face is awash with anger and hurt.

“Here I am trying to be serious and you’re being flippant with me?”

“Quite the exercise in role reversal, isn’t it?”

Alex doesn’t remember when Bobby’s quirkiness began to seem charming to her. When all those little idiosyncrasies began to flip from cons to pros. In any case, she’s come full circle tonight. And she doesn’t care to go retrograde.

“Let me up,” she motions.

“I would never take advantage of you, Eames,” he says softly, cupping her face so that his long fingers sprawl and scope her panic. “I already told you this is not about sex.”

“Then what’s it about?” she demands.

He grows pensive. “What would you like it to be about?”

“Bobby,” she says tersely. And it’s practically a death threat.

“Alex,” he kisses, and the strangled sound she makes prompts him to back off. “Alex, would it make any difference if I told you that I love you?”

There’s a beat then. A beat that she skips as her hands grab onto the railing. The wind is howling in her ears and gravity is nipping at her feet and she’s hanging on for dear life. Clawing and scraping for a piece of solid ground.

“Because I do love you, Alex. For a while as a friend and now, like you said, it’s more. I’ve been thinking about this since… well I don’t know ‘since’ but when you were taken I just knew. Knew how much it would hurt to be without you. And I’m not telling you this to pressure you. I don’t...” Bobby pauses, ambling in self defense. “…I don’t need to hear it back.”

And suddenly she’s falling. Thirty-nine floors from a ten-story building.

Alex’s heart is jutting against her ribcage as she finds his fingers, leading his warm palm to the burst of her breast. He feels her excitement then. Sees the emotion in her eyes as she believes him. Oh, yes, she’s desperate to believe him.

“Take me to bed.”

He has too much reserve.

“No.”

Instantly Alex wants him twice as badly.

“Make love to me.”

He shakes his head.

“No.”

“Bobby, I’ll leave,” she says.

He sucks in air. His body wrestling with his lesser demons.

“See, I’m not a big fan of regret,” he tells her. “You put it best, Eames. Any other night but tonight—”

“Are you using me?”

Arguing with Alex was always an exercise in futility.

“Of course not.”

“Well, I’m not using you.” She’s taking his face. Bringing her dry lips to his wet mouth. “Let me prove it.”

“Alex…” he attempts. One last time for sanity’s sake. “Alex, you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“I love you,” she’s mewling. Quietly and intimately so that only he can hear. “I love you, Bobby. I love you, Bobby. I love you…”

When was the last time anyone had said such a thing?

And so, on a dismal day in the frost of February, one Detective Robert O. Goren gives up.

And carries his partner to bed.

…

A.N.

TBC.