Summary: He needed it. Bad.
Disclaimer: Luv ya VDO! Oh, and thanks Dick Wolf. I promise I'm not making any money. (Who'd pay for this drivel?)
Archive: Anywhere else, just ask
Feedback: Please! It's always welcome – constructive feedback as well as encouragement.
Chapter 1 - TLC
He needed it. Bad.
And he had no one to blame but himself. He'd stayed up too late last night, watching all the wrong things on cable TV. He should have known better.
Bobby's reward for such foolish behavior was to awake this morning with an ache only she could ease.
Filled with guilt, but too needy to deny himself, he silently approached her desk and lightly tapped her shoulder. His partner turned her questioning gaze upon him. Eames studied him with concern and her golden eyes skimmed over his stiff flesh. She knew what he needed.
Without a word, she rose from her chair and followed him to the secluded room he'd discovered months earlier. Nothing more than a small storage space, it was a place where the building's maintenance crew would keep broken furniture and other useless bits until they had the time or memory to discard them.
She closed the door softly behind them and in the dim light from the bare, low-watt bulb, Bobby looked around at the dusty cabinets and chairs, broken picture frames and cracked ceiling tiles. Not exactly a well-furnished, comfortable room.
Guilt was beginning to win out. "Eames…" he quietly started to apologize.
"Shhh," she hushed. "I know you need this. I've told you before… I don't mind."
Their eyes met and held. He saw understanding in hers and tried his best to convey gratitude in his.
"You need to sit down," she said softly.
He looked around and found the same broken task chair he'd used last time – cushioned and upholstered with one arm missing, it had been the perfect perch three weeks ago. Bobby sat down and self-consciously spread his legs to stabilize the rolling chair and allow her access to step between his knees. In their current positions, he looked directly at the throbbing pulse in the hollow of her throat.
"Are you comfortable?" she asked, so close to him that he could smell the warmth of her soap and perfume.
Swallowing deeply in anticipation, Bobby could only murmur his assent.
He flinched against the first cool touch of her hand on his warm skin, but relaxed into her sure grip with the knowledge that Eames was the best he'd ever had. Relief would be his, and he had her generosity and skill to thank for that.
"Ready?" she whispered close to his ear.
"Yes…" he sighed and closed his eyes.
Eames firmly grasped his head and gave a sudden twist and pull. A loud 'pop' of his neck announced the realignment of his vertebrae and Bobby groaned. She released him and he sensed the loss of her nearness at the same time he realized that, although his neck was still sore, it was once again mobile.
"The History Channel?" she asked.
Bobby opened his eyes and looked at Eames smirking down at him. "Uh, no… a Seinfeld marathon," he admitted.
"Next time, Goren, get off the couch and go to bed."
"I'll try to remember that," he smiled and rose from the chair, pushing it back to its approximate original location. "Thanks. You should think about charging for that."
"You're right," she grinned over her shoulder as they stepped from the room. "I've been told I'm better than a pro."
They stopped dead in their tracks when Eames almost collided with someone standing outside the door. Bobby's heart lodged in his throat and his stomach dropped somewhere near his knees.
The Captain looked like he was about to have a stroke.End
A/N – Get your mind out of the gutter!