|The After Party
Author: Laury the Latrator PM
Pre-BA. I decided to turn my little one-shots into a series, each immediately following an episode. I may go back and fill in some gaps, but they will all read in order of appearance. May vary in length. Hope you enjoy them. Latest: 7x1Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Angst - A. Eames & R. Goren - Chapters: 42 - Words: 27,823 - Reviews: 62 - Favs: 15 - Follows: 13 - Updated: 06-02-10 - Published: 02-07-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5727739
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
After a loss, people, they screw up.
Goren ran to catch up with her on the dark dismal downtown sidewalk. She was walking quickly, with a fierce determination that both disheartened him and drove him forward. Finally catching up with her, he reached out and took hold of her arm.
You're going through Joe's case file?
What d'you think you'll find there, Bobby?
"Let go of me!" She cried, her voice wavering in her distress. It broke his heart, or what was left of it. Eames tried to yank herself free but he held firm. He would not let her get away from him again.
"Don't call me that, you don't get to call me that anymore! You lost that right when you went behind my back! I only let you get away with it in front of Rogers, but try it again and I'll break your fucking arm, you bastard!"
Well, there was a lit cigarette at your husband's crime scene, a menthol.
I know that! Minaya testified it belonged to Delgado.
Well, Delgado said that he didn't smoke.
"Eames then," He went on, trying desperately to mask how her words cut into his gut like a knife. "You have to calm down."
"Never tell a woman to calm down! It's not like it helps!" She retorted, once again attempting to loosen his grip.
"Are you okay?"
"Ha!" Eames barked derisively, "Now you give a damn about my feelings!"
"Why are you acting like this?" He pleaded. "We caught the guy, we solved both cases. Joe finally has justice."
Well, CSU just couldn't get enough DNA off of it to prove that Delgado was lying.
That's nine years ago, you know that today they only need a trace of DNA.
"Don't you dare talk to me about Joe!" Tears were now falling from her eyes, making strands of her hair cling to those flushed yet still perfect cheeks. "He was a beautiful man, a wonderful husband, and I loved him!" Goren swallowed painfully, his fingers relinquishing their vice-like hold though she no longer fought to run. "And I know I should be... but he's still gone. And you still hurt me. And I love... and I can't..."
Kevin Quinn IDed him as running from the scene gun in hand.
Witnesses make mistakes and if it's Delgado's DNA then it will confirm his guilt.
But you don't think it will. Is that it?
"I'm sorry. Eames, believe me, I am so sorry..."
This isn't another one of your puzzles!
"It doesn't matter, Bobby. It doesn't change the fact that the moment I walked into that room everything just came rushing back, and it was all your fault."
You know that we have to do this, we've got to do it! If it's not delgado's DNA it means he wasn't there, and someone else killed Joe! And got away with it!
"If there had been another way, I would have done it in a heartbeat. But I had to get to the bottom of it. Think about it—"
"No!" Eames yelled suddenly, "I'm tired of thinking! I'm tired of being responsible and smart! I want to go out, get drunk, and wake up in someone else's bed!" Goren felt his heart stutter at her words. Dropping his hand, he took a step back, allowing her space despite the pain she'd caused. She was still looking up at him with red eyes, breathing heavily and shaking her head.
"If that's what you want." He replied solemnly. She let out a shaky chuckle.
"Of course that's not what I want." She said wearily. "But it's all I've got." Spinning on her heel, Alex continued her path down the street, probably to some bar where she'd be taken home for a quick fuck.
Watching her go with ice settling over his soul, he shouted to her, "Hey, be careful!"
"I won't!" She hollered without looking back.
"Call if you need me!" He tried again.
"Not gonna!" Sighing, Goren turned around, with only the company of his thoughts on his walk home.
She'd said it herself, he'd hurt her. How deep he couldn't be sure. But things were rough. Things had been rough ever since his mother died. Or was it since the Dockerty case last Thanksgiving? Or when she'd been captured? The only thing he could be certain of was things would only get worse.
No matter what he did, he would never be able to have that again. To have her the way he wanted.
You want me to come back there and find the box? I'll find it, I'll tear this place apart, 'kay, cause I'm the wackjob! Understand?
He would always be the eccentric workaholic with a dead schizophrenic mother and possibly a rapist and murderer for a father. He would always be the man who put crime first. He would always stumble over his words and would never be able to fix things easily between them. He would always hurt her.
He was a good cop.
That's what she deserved. Not a wackjob.