Homesickness

Summary: Bobby Goren feels homesick when Alex Eames isn't there. BA OneShot!

Fandom: Law and Order: Criminal Intent

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or places that you may recognise. They all belong to their respective owners. I only own my memories and experiences.

Authors Note: This piece was also inspired largely by two of my housemates who happened to become homesick whilst I was away. Sadly the shipper heart in me slightly ruined the piece I had planned...whatever. Also this is my first CI so if I stuff up the characters please tell me...please?


When you walk into work today, everything is there. That pile of paperwork that you should of completed but couldn't because you were staring at her. The Santa mug that is perched on her desk in all its glory. The various pens, pencils and paper that scatter your colleague's desks.

There aren't too many people in the office right now, just a few people standing in the break room, sipping the steaming cups of coffee, discussing family and nights out. You wander from the door, with two hot Starbucks cups of coffee and place one on her desk, right where you know she will see it when she walks in. It's a small act of kindness but you know how much she'll enjoy it.

You sigh and turn back to your paperwork. You have to at least try and make an effort this time, and at least she isn't there to distract you. She isn't there to make your nose tingle with her lightly scented perfume, n or to draw away your attention from that mountain of paperwork (that you'd rather burn and place in an urn at the bottom of the Hudson River) as she lightly flips back her hair, unintentionally taunting you, like the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden.

As your pen scurries across the paper, other detectives wander in holding cups of coffee and discussing their weekends. They ignore you and continue over to their desks, but you don't care. To them you're a freak, but the fact you're the odd one out doesn't matter when she is there.

Eventually Barek wanders in, quickly followed by a flustered Logan. You smile slyly – you know why he's flustered, you know you're not the only one tempted by the forbidden fruit, and you know he is by the way he talks and stares as Barek slips behind her desk and sips her Starbucks.

Soon enough everyone is there, except her. You're slightly worried, she's normally always here, yawning and bleary eyed, ready to slip into her desk and drain the coffee you brought her. You sigh, reassuring yourself that she's probably just stuck in traffic or something. You continue working. Soon enough Deakin comes out to take morning roll call, and she still isn't there. Once again you reassure yourself she's just late – it happens to people all the time, right?

"Goren," rolls your name off Deakin's tongue. You look up and he gestures to his office. Slowly you rise up and follow him in. You shut the door behind you as he takes his usual spot. He looks up at you briefly and says slowly, "She isn't coming into work for the next few days,"

You hide your shock and reply, "Really? How come?"

"She called in – she's isn't feeling the best," says Deakins, pausing to watch your response. You shrug, trying to act indifferent. Deakin dismisses you and you leave silently. You sit back down at your desk and resume work, making a plan to call her at morning break as you write.

You pass over one particular case and smile slightly – oh, how well you remember her cracking it at that accountant...that poor guy probably was having nightmares about that 'crazy, blonde, little bitch' (the accountant's words not yours).

Morning break comes and you make your call. She picks up the phone with a stuffy nose and a voice that's enveloped in yawns. You ask how she's feeling, does she need anything, and finally does she want you to come over. She replies that she's feeling like crap, COFFEE, and no it's fine since her 

sister is coming over. She wishes you luck with the paperwork (you can envision her smirk as she says it), and says goodbye.

You place the phone back down, wishing the conversation could have gone on for longer. You sigh deeply and once again begin to work. The day rolls on; you eat a rather plain ham sandwich from the cafeteria for lunch, and then get back to that dreaded pile of paperwork. Every break you take (which there are quite a few since you hate paperwork) you call her and every time she tells you not to worry. But you do, you can't stop yourself worrying about her. What if one of those cons you put in prison escaped and was seeking revenge? What if some...well the possibilities seem to be endless as your mind goes over all the types of people in the world that could bring harm to her.

Soon enough the clock strikes five and it's time to head home. You grab your black leather bound folder (that she gave you after a week of partnership) and leave the bullpen. As you reach the subway you pause and rip out your mobile.

You dial her number in a flash and then wait patiently for her to pick up. She doesn't and soon enough her answering machine picks up. Your heart beats a little faster and you breathe a little faster, your forehead creasing. Why hadn't she off picked up? Had something...no...she was probably just in the shower...

You sigh and scratch your head and then call her again. This time she picks up. The tone of her voice suggests she's a bit annoyed about the amount of times you've called, and you feel ever so guilty. Soon enough the call is over and you've missed your train because of it. Not that it matters – at least you know she's safe.

Finally another train comes along and you're heading home, distracting yourself as you profile the various people that share your compartment. You reach your station grateful that you had those five teenagers, that creepy old guy, and that little old lady that looked like she was ready to knock out anyone that looked at her twice. You weren't so grateful for those three Australians that were right next to you (after the whole Nicole Wallace thing your dreams of going to Australia had been halted...probably permanently too) because you wondered if Nicole would even dare harming her...which Nicole probably would do.

The next day you slip into a similar routine since she is still sick (though on the mend much to your relief). Deakins hands you a case and you take one of the MCS SVU's down to the crime scene. The car seems horribly empty and it feels so...odd to be driving to a crime scene again. Ever since that memorable experience on your first case with her, she had barred you from even touching the steering wheel. It's not your fault that you like to weave in and out of traffic.

When you reach the crime scene, you examine the scene like you always do. You can hear the CSU's discussing the fact that she isn't there and how it looks odd to see the big tall Armani dressed cop without the little blonde sarcastic woman. You have to agree; it is odd. And annoying because soon enough you begin to kick yourself when you don't take note of what the CSU's are saying (that's her thing after all).

The day passes by and once again you head home after one last phone call to check up. The next morning your heart seems to ache as you stare across at her empty desk. You would give anything to have her there. At least when Bishop was replacing her, she was there still even if it was on desk duty. You remember well how annoying it had been to have a replacement for her. Now when you look back at it you realise you were a bit harsh on her...

Logan suddenly moves over to you and starts to speak, "Oi, Goren!"

"What is it Logan?" you ask not even lifting your head. You and Logan to be truthful have an interesting relationship. You both pretty much ignore each other, unless either of you fight with your partners- which often leads to a few beers (and a massive hangover) or just the odd chat when your partner and Barek decide that it's time for a lunch outing together. So, now with Logan coming over you're thinking it could mean a drink later...which you would welcome in your current state.

"Wanna come and join me and Barek for lunch later?"

That slightly surprises you. You suspect it was Barek that made suggestion, since Logan doesn't seem too happy with someone coming along on his little lunch with his partner. You now lift your head and raise an eyebrow, "You're seriously asking me this?"

"What do you think Goren?" asks Logan whilst rolling his eyes, "Barek thought you looked lonely so she said to invite you. It's Italian, you want in?"

You chuckle within and can't stop yourself when you mutter, "More like ordered you," At Logan's harsh stare you shrug innocently and say, "Yeah sure."

You rise out of your seat and follow Logan over to the door, where Barek is waiting. Slipping on your coat you follow them both out of the door. When you reach the restaurant you sit quietly, trying to allow space for Barek and Logan to talk. It's obvious that Logan is bursting to talk about something 

private (non fraternization rules pop into mind) and Barek is doing whatever she can to put it off, including making you the centre of attention, which you hate.

The thing that gets you is that if this ever happened and she was there, then you wouldn't be placed in this position. So you excuse yourself and head off to the bathroom and do not return for about fifteen minutes. When you do get back its time to leave (much to your relief). Logan is red in the face, and Barek...well she's also red. It's kind of awkward.

Soon enough you're back at One Police Plaza working on the new case, alone. Now it's really getting to you. You're so used to having her there, to pick up on the minor details that you miss, to listen and order your thoughts.

You really do miss her, you miss her sarcastic comments, her perfume, and the way she flips back her hair. You begin to slightly shake, and you can feel something wet slide down your face. You wipe your face, and now it's clear to you, you miss her, a lot.

You get up and grab your folder and head out the door. You can hear Deakins calling your name but you don't really care – all of your attention is on getting to her place.

You walk quickly through the streets your large frame clearing the way. You hear annoyed grumbles as you bump past people – but that doesn't stop you. How does that saying go again? You're a man on a mission...

After what seems like an age you are at her apartment block. You glance at the lifts and realise that you'll have to wait a while to get one up. You sigh and drum your fingers on the wall in impatience. The lift arrives and you punch in her floor without a second thought. It's only now that you realise that this is probably the dumbest thing you've ever done. Seriously...who runs over to their workmates house when you actually know they are okay...

But you reason with yourself that this is different...that she isn't just a work –

PING!

You jump slightly as the elevator stops on her floor. You pause for a moment deciding if to go or not...you could still back out, she wouldn't know...you shake your head; you've made your decision.

You quickly push through the elevator doors before they close and then you wander through the hallway until you reach her door. Holding out a closed fist you rap on the door, heart pounding as you do. The door opens.

She's standing there, a bewildered look on her face. Her hair is tied back in a messy ponytail, and her body is wrapped in a thick dressing gown. She yawns and says, "Bobby?"

You're slightly shocked that she called you by your first name, and that's when you realise your gaping like a fish. You feel like a complete and utter idiot, but in your gut you know it's going to be all right...you hope.

"Bobby?" she says again and that's when you remember you haven't spoken. You open your mouth but your throat is suddenly dry and you can't speak.

"Are you all right?" she asks, "Is it a case or something,"

You swallow and shake your head. At that she smiles flashing a row of perfect white teeth, and then she flips back her hair. She asks, "Then why are you here?"

"Eames..." You stutter and then she winks, grabs your tie and pulls you inside her home before she slams the door shut.

Funnily enough you don't feel quite so homesick (or partnersick) anymore.

Fin