Title: 5 Bobby Gorens Who Never Happened To…
Spoilers: Implied spoilers for "In the Wee Small Hours"
A/N: I'm sorry this took so long. I got stuck, and I wanted to do right by Alex. If you read the note at the beginning of "His Watson," then you know that part of the delay was a result of having my first AU idea for Alex completely run away from me. It's as long as the previous 4 put together, and it's still going. I like the other Alex-centered AU, and I'll probably finish it as a standalone one day. But I wanted to get the last of the "5 Bobbys (Bobbies?)" shorts finished, first. Of the other ideas I came up with, what follows is the only one that really grabbed me (huge thanks to Jinjur for the lunch conversations that helped me figure that out). In a way, this is my "In the Wee Small Hours" post-ep (we all have to write one sooner or later). Thank you for hanging in there with me (and thanks for the nudge, elfluvr). Enjoy, and remember that feedback is always welcome.
5. … Alexandra Eames
It's on days like this that Alex Eames has to remind herself that she's a professional—that Detective First Grade is a rank she worked her ass off for, and that it comes with a great deal of responsibility. But she can't deny that she's annoyed. It's not just that it's Independence Day or that she's been called away from a family gathering where she'd been spending time with her nephew for the first time in far too long. It's that she's not even on call, and she's still drained from the case she and her partner just closed not even a week ago. Between the holiday and some kind of high priority crime wave that seems to have come in with the heat, the detectives who are on call are all out handling cases of their own. And while Major Case might be home to "the greatest detectives in the world," even they haven't managed to figure out how to be in two places at once.
She finds herself wishing that her partner wasn't restricted by such minor matters of immutable laws of time and space. It's only been two days since he left to visit a sister in Seattle, but it feels like an eternity. She tries to ignore the fact that she's the one who recommended he take vacation time for what's probably the first time in his life, as she would like more than anything not to be heading out to meet up with a detective from Homicide who's also temporarily without a partner.
Alex puts the SUV in park. She briefly closes her eyes against the blast of heat that greets her when she opens the door then gets out of to and walk toward the unique focused activity that accompanies the investigation of a crime scene.
After identifying herself to the officer supervising the scene, Alex approaches the body and is immediately reminded of why she does what she does and of why she can stand to be inconvenienced. She forces down the familiar anger that rises in her at the up-close sight of a person whose life was taken from him and replaces it with a silent promise to do all she can to see that justice is served.
She shifts her attention from the victim to the man examining him, his large frame crouched over the body as he points out things for a photographer to record.
"Detective Goren," she says.
As she waits for him to acknowledge her, she braces herself for the onslaught of his boundless energy and lack of respect for personal space. He stands, and she's surprised by his sedate, almost withdrawn demeanor.
"Detective Eames," he says, holding out his hand.
She shakes his hand, determined to keep things professional, then asks, "What do we have so far?"
"The victim's name is Henry Stephenson. He's a fellow at the Acuity Foundation think tank, which is probably what got the attention of Major Case."
She wonders if his mention of her squad is meant to be an accusation, but she can't read him. His expression is carefully guarded, and there's nothing untoward about his tone.
"He was strangled," Goren says. "He definitely put up a fight. From the ligature marks around his neck, it looks like the killer attacked him from behind with some kind of thick cord, but switched to using his… hands once the victim was on the ground. This was…personal. We'll have to wait for the M.E. report to be sure, but I'm guessing we won't find much on the body to identify the killer. There was a lot of anger in this murder, but also a lot of control. A lot of…planning."
She nods and crouches down to take a closer look.
"Personal, premeditated, and thorough," she says. "Great."
An hour later, they're walking to the parking lot to head to One PP to do some research while waiting for the initial report from the medical examiner.
"I'm driving," she says.
"I remember," he says.
"My car's over there," she says, pointing, and he walks to the passenger side of the vehicle.
He waits until she pulls out into traffic before asking, "Is it alright with you that we're working together again?"
No, she thinks, but out loud she says, "Of course. Both of our squads are spread thin. You're between partners and mine's on vacation. It makes sense."
He nods.
When they arrive at the Major Case bullpen, she catches some of the other MCS detectives looking at them with raised eyebrows, and she knows Goren has to see it, too, though he doesn't let on. He asks permission before he sits at the desk that used to be his.
Alex looks up the victim on the Web and finds reports of a controversial position paper he authored. She shows what she's found to Goren.
"I remember reading about that," he says, "though I haven't gotten around to reading the actual paper. A lot of people were angry with his position on racial profiling."
"Motive?"
"Maybe. It looks like his next-of-kin is his brother. He also has a fifteen-year-old son. If he'd received any threats, maybe they'd know about it."
They meet with Stephenson's son and brother. As they talk with him, the son desperately tries to keep things together, though his world has fallen apart.
"I hadn't even seen him in over a month," the son says, his voice cracking. "Half the time, I couldn't stand him, but…but he was my dad. I can't believe he's gone. I barely knew him, and now he's gone."
The young man's tears are falling freely now, and he won't make eye contact with either detective.
"I hardly knew my father…when he died," Goren says, his voice so quiet that Alex almost misses his words. "I hadn't even spoken to him in over a year. I don't regret that—it was the way our relationship was for a lot of reasons. But it didn't make it hurt any less when he died. It's okay to feel…conflicted about this."
Alex watches as the teenager connects with what Goren says. It hits her that this may be the most she's ever learned about his life outside of work.
They finish with their questions and give their business cards and their condolences. As they leave, the brother stops them to ask when the investigation—or at least his and his nephew's part in it—will be over.
"It's not like Henry was ever around," he says. "Harry needs to be able to move on, and I don't want this to take up too much of our time."
"His brother's dead—murdered—less than 24 hours ago," Alex says as soon as they're back in the car, "and he's talking about his nephew 'moving on?' Something is not right with that guy."
"His affect's all wrong," Goren says. "There's no grief. It's all about him being inconvenienced."
"I'm beginning to think that this isn't about any position paper," she says as she starts the ignition.
They continue to investigate, conducting interviews and reviewing evidence. The M.E. report comes back, and while as Goren predicted, there's little evidence on the body, sometimes a little is enough. It's not long before the pieces fall together, and a clear suspect—the victim's brother—emerges. They present their evidence to the ADA, receive an arrest warrant, and bring him in.
The questioning starts out in a way Alex would call normal. But then Goren's all over the suspect—crowding him and teasing him about being the ineffectual brother—laughing at him. It's bizarre and erratic, and Alex remembers why she decided five years before to request a new partner. As the inquiry progresses, however, she gradually sees where Goren's taking it. She begins to play along, and suddenly they're riffing off of each other like improvising master musicians. The brother confesses, never knowing what hit him.
Alex indulges in a grin when she sees the look on his face.
They step into the observation room after the suspect is escorted away.
"Thank you, Detectives," Ron Carver says. "You've made my job very easy."
After Deakins and Carver leave and she's alone with Goren in the observation room she says, "Look. I get what you were doing back there, but I would have gotten it a lot sooner if you'd have just clued me in beforehand."
His look is searching before he nods, and she wonders what he's looking for and if he's found it.
"I'm not always the best at doing that," he finally says. "Tony, my most recent partner, used to say he was going to write a manual on how to work with me for my next partner as his first retirement activity. That, and take his wife on a cruise."
Alex chuckles, and he smiles.
They sit across from each other as they wrap up the paperwork on the case with subdued energy. Solving a murder is always a muted celebration. There's satisfaction, yes. But at the end of the day, someone has still lost a person they loved. It's a pain Alex knows intimately and wouldn't wish on anyone. She acknowledges the tug of empathy she often feels at this point in an investigation, then pushes it away.
Her thoughts turn to the man sitting at her partner's desk. There's a sadness about him that she hadn't noticed before, and she realizes that there's more to Bobby Goren than she'd ever previously considered. She has to admit that their temperaments and skills compliment each other, and she wonders how their partnership might have developed had she not requested a new partner. She thinks of the letter she'd written five years before. She hadn't pulled any punches, and she hopes that he never read it. She knows Deakins would have kept the letter confidential, but things get around. She's grown to like and respect Goren, and the idea of her actions hurting him, intentionally or not, distresses her.
It's after 9pm before they're finally done. They're the last ones in the bullpen.
He stands up and comes around to her side of the desk.
"Good night, Eames," he says, holding out his hand to her.
She shakes his hand without hesitation.
"Good night, Goren," she says.
He runs his hand through his hair, then rubs his neck. She watches him as he gathers up his things and heads to the bank of elevators before getting up to leave herself.
The next day, Deakins calls her into his office to ask her about working with Goren.
"I don't know if he's changed or I have or both," she says. "It was awkward at first, but I guess that's to be expected. In the end, he's effective and ethical, and I don't think I've ever met anyone who can get at what makes people tick faster than he does."
"Alex Eames playing cheerleader for the Goren Show," her captain says, chuckling and shaking his head. "Never thought I'd see the day."
"What can I say? His style is definitely unique and…" she pauses, searching for the right words. "An acquired taste," she finally says with a shrug. "But it works."
Deakins chats with her a little longer, going over a few more details of the case before she heads back to her desk. She notices that before he left, Goren arranged her partner's desk exactly as he'd found it just over two weeks ago. As she takes a moment to marvel at his attention to detail, she sees a slip of orange paper peeking out from under the Santa mug on her desk.
It's a Post-It with, "I enjoyed working with you. I always did," scrawled on it in Goren's handwriting.
She decides to keep the note, placing it away in a drawer before turning to her list of things she needs to finish before her partner returns from his trip.
A/N: What if Alex hadn't withdrawn The Letter?