Title: His Angel
Author: Linda, Brynna, Brynnamorgan
Rating:M
Warnings: Romance/Angst/Explicit Sex/Language/PWP
Spoilers: "In The Wee Small Hours"
Archive: AI, thanks to my beta reader, TrinityWildcat, aka devizesgirl, Louise

This is the "R" or "M" rated version; not too much different from the original other than some slight rewording. Feedback always desperately needed and welcome!


"I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the borderline
Of the edge and where I walk alone

Read between the lines
What's fucked up and everything's all right
Check my vital signs
And no I'm still alive
And I walk alone."

"Boulevard of Broken Dreams" - Green Day


To the untrained eye the apartment two floors above him was down for the night.

There were no lights on; the curtains were drawn but no shadows, no glimmer, no signs of life came through to indicate that the occupant was anything but sleeping.

He took another drag on the cigarette that he rarely allowed himself, letting the smoke calm him as best as it could. Calm. He barked a low laugh and inhaled again. After today calm was just about the last thing he was capable of feeling. His eyes rose to the apartment windows again and he smiled, a small slanting smile.

Almost no signs of life.

That faint glow coming from the living room window could only come from a television set; the occasional accompanying glow from the kitchen could only come from the refrigerator. The occupant was awake and drinking. Alone.

His angel, the woman who held his soul in the palm of her tiny hands, was in pain.

I came to appreciate him as an ethical person and an effective police officer.

He crushed the cigarette butt beneath his heel, took one last look at the two windows, then crossed the street, climbed the steps and walked into the building. Gonna have a talk with the sup one of these days about that damned security system. The two-story climb up the stairs didn't register in his brain; all he could think about was the woman at the end.

He paused for a moment in front of her door and took a deep breath. Once you go through that door, Bobby-boy, there's no going back. Not after today. His hand rose, fell, rose, hesitated, then plunged into the knock.

After what seemed like an eternity he heard the locks rattle, drums turn; the door finally opened to reveal Alex, outlined in semi-darkness and street lights shining through open curtains. She gave him a dazed, puzzled look, her face swollen from crying, hair disheveled, the baggy sweat suit making her look more waifish than ever. He watched her close her eyes then reopen them, as though she was making sure she could believe what she was seeing.

"What are you doing here, Bobby?" She didn't move to let him in.

"I came by… I came by to check on you. After today…"

"After you found out I ... what I'd done."

He sighed heavily. "Can I come in?" At the resulting silence he added softly, "Please?"

She hesitated for the barest fraction of a second, then nodded and stepped aside to let him in. "Knock yourself out, Bobby," was her muttered reply. He tried to be nonchalant as he walked past her into the foyer; he failed. His feet got him that far; as soon as he heard her shut the door behind them he turned swiftly and swept her up against him.

Alex gasped as his hands tunneled into her hair, bringing her head up against his chest. Involuntarily her arms slid around him underneath his top coat and she started to tremble. The gasp turned into a soft cry, then a sob as he rocked her back and forth, fighting back the urge to join her. He felt her hands burrow themselves into his shirt, the wetness of her tears and it was his undoing.

"Eames... Alex... don't do this to yourself." His voice was a rasp, his throat clogged with the tears he was fighting back. "Th-they tr-tried..."

"They ripped everyone apart," she whispered between soft sobs. "Looked for chinks in our armor. What they did to your mother," his grip tightened on her reflexively, "unforgivable. Using me to get to you..."

He shook his head. "Alex?"

"Wh-what?"

Bobby reached back and slowly pulled her right arm forward. "Give me your hand."

"I don't..." She let him take her right hand in his left anyway.

"Look."

Alex looked at her tiny hand cradled in his large one, felt the faint calluses against her palm, and the warmth of his breath across her cheek as he bent to rest his forehead against her temple.

"It wasn't all about just getting to me or you, Alex."

He gave her hand a squeeze and she returned it, her grasp firm and strong.

"It was about getting to us." Her voice was soft with wonder and realization.

"Separated, we're strong. United we're..."

"Unbeatable," she finished for him. Alex felt his smile against her temple.

"Well, maybe not 'unbeatable' but there's no denying that instead of you and me there's..."

"Us."

"Yeah."

Then he did something unexpected. He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them gently, then laid the palm of her hand against his stubbled cheek.

"And they thought that by doing what they did that they would divide us." His lips caressed the palm of her hand and she shivered.

"Instead we're stronger," he replied quietly. "Alex, when I saw you on the stand, the look in your eyes, the pain he'd caused you ... I wanted to..." He released her hand and reached out to pop his knuckles, getting a weak laugh from her. She grasped his hand and, like he, brought those long fingers to her lips before nestling the palm against her cheek.

His fingers tipped her chin up so that their eyes could meet in the semi-darkness of the foyer; her large brown eyes, uncertainty melting away, replaced with surety. He lifted a brow at her, got a smile in return, and gave in as he lowered his head to hers.

The caress of his mouth against hers was soft, gentle, his hand tracing her cheek. Her fingers threaded into his hair and he let out a gusty sigh. Finally, he thought, rotating his head, slowly working her mouth open. Her sweet, tiny hands, one in his hair, one around his waist under his top and suit coat; he enjoyed the sensation of protecting her beneath his outer clothing.

"Alex," he whispered against her lips. "Sweet, wonderful Alex. So strong, so beautiful."

"Bobby?"

He lifted his head, poised to kiss her again. "What, angel?"

"Make it all go away. Show me..."

"I love you, Alex."

Her eyes widened and she shivered against him. "Bobby, I love you… I…"

She got no further. Bobby's mouth covered hers, sending them both into a whirl of emotions, desperate need to release and put behind them the pain they'd both been through. His tongue caressed hers, savoring, exploring. Her hands found the lapels of his top coat, and the kiss didn't miss one beat as he yanked it down his arms and threw it aside, followed by his suit coat. He pulled her more firmly against him; one hand slid into her hair and tipped her head back as he softly kissed his way down her neck.

"God, Bobby," she whispered, shivering when his lips found the hollow of her throat. The warmth of his tongue was next and she whimpered, savoring the pleased grunt against her skin.

"Soft and sweet," he murmured against her throat. The feel of her body against his made him more aware than ever just how small she was, and yet she fit right into the curve of his arms, into the way he wrapped himself around her as the embrace deepened. Perfect. Just like he'd always known she would be.

His big body dipped, one arm slid under her knees, the other under her back as he lifted her into his arms. Alex murmured incoherently, her hands clinging to him as he carried her into the living room, then turned to the hall that led to her bedroom. A few more intoxicating steps; the womanly scent of powder and cologne told him he was there. Slowly he eased her down, making sure to slide her along his body, the corners of his mouth turning up when her eyes widened at the contact of his arousal. She shifted her hips from side-to-side, getting a low growl of appreciation from him.

"Bobby," she breathed, her fingers plucking at his tie. It fluttered to the floor, followed by soft laughter as she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.

"That intimidating?" he said with a low laugh as she finally freed him of the shirt and cast it aside.

"Well, if you didn't dress in so many layers," was her grumbled reply as she tugged up on the hem of his undershirt. "Never thought it would take so much work to get you naked."

"Worth it?" His breath caught as she pressed her mouth to the center of his chest.

"Yeah." Alex dropped feather-like kisses across his chest, licking and nipping, causing him to groan. His hand found her hair again, slid under her chin and tipped her face up to his.

"We have all night, angel," he whispered against her mouth as he stepped backward until his knees hit the back of the bed. He sank onto the mattress and pulled her up against him. "All night." Slowly he lifted up on her sweatshirt, letting her finish sliding it off. His breath hitched; she was so perfect, ivory skin that just begged for his touch. He did, gently caressing her. Immediately her eyes shut and she arched into his hands.

Somehow her sweat pants made it to the floor, followed by his slacks, boxer shorts; he quickly toed off his shoes and socks along with the slacks. Their skin finally made contact and both cried out, hands sliding over soft flesh and powerful muscle. Bobby's hands slid to her behind, he lifted her up and rolled her back onto the bed with him.

From there it was all warmth and caring, the hurt of what the world had done to them fading with each caress, each kiss, taste, nibble of the teeth. Before long they were both panting, whispering soft words of love, sighs of arousal, and please, Bobby, now…

He rose above her, moaning when her hips tilted to accommodate him. So tiny, so tight, dear God, she was so small and how long could he last? he wondered as he filled her. With each thrust he sank into her further, causing her to cry out, her pelvis rocking and lifting. He felt her shudder, tighten around him as he finally filled her to the brink, then slid out, then back again.

Perfect. It was perfect, watching Alex beneath him, listening to her cries, her begging for release, watching her, feeling her hands on his behind as she rose higher and higher. "That's it, angel," he muttered against her lips. One large hand grasped her hip and lifted her higher while he sought for that one little spot... that was it. Her eyes widened and a long, sobbing moan came from her. She arched, the moan turned into a wail and her nails dug into him.

"Bobby!"

He surged forward as desire pooled in his loins; one last... yeah... oh God, it's so good... his cries joined hers as he drove her into the mattress.

Slowly Bobby became aware of the woman beneath him, her hands toying with his hair. He nuzzled her neck, tasting her perspiration, the essence of her. Carefully he shifted to his back, scooping her up against him so her head came to rest on his chest. Sleepily she nuzzled his chest hair and curled herself around him.

"Ti amo, il mio angelo," he whispered softly as he joined her in slumber.