"Safe"

By: Banshae

Rated: M for language, adult situations

Spoilers: None (unless you haven't seen Blind Spot)

Summary: This takes place after Blind Spot. Alex's healing after her kidnapping ordeal.

B/A shippiness and plenty of angst.

Reviews: Please!

Disclaimer: I don't own CI, I don't make money from this, all the characters belong to Dick Wolf and his writers, yadda yadda yadda. You know the score.

A/N: this is my first CI story, so if I get any of the canon wrong, let me know.

Chapter 2

The coffee in my mug is nearly cold by the time I hear the front door open. A few moments later, Bobby is standing on the other side of my kitchen, more disheveled than usual. His hair stands up in whorls, his cheeks are dusted with stubble. The oxford shirt he's wearing is well wrinkled and buttoned incorrectly so one untucked tail is poking out from under his jacket, longer than the other. He looks like he either slept in his clothes and rolled out of bed to come here, or he didn't sleep at all.

"Alex," he says.

Not Eames, but Alex.

Alex.

The sound of his hoarse, low voice causes heavy heat to fill my chest, constricting both breath and thought. Suddenly, I drop my head into my hands and begin crying uncontrollably. I don't hear him move from the door, but a moment later Bobby's arm is around my shoulders and he's murmuring, "It's okay. You're going to be alright, Alex. Shhhh…"

For a while, my harsh choked sobs and his soft words are the only sounds between us. I feel unmoored, out of control- unable to stop. It's been a long time since I cried…tears are a weakness that I can't afford. Stoicism has always been my shield against the shit I see every day. You can't cry if you're a cop…especially not a female cop. Tears blind you and make you emotionally vulnerable. Tears make you weak. Tears will kill you as surely as a bullet- it just takes a little longer.

Finally I take a shaking breath to rein myself in, and palm the tears from my cheeks. "I'm sorry," I whisper. Bobby is still kneeling, his arm around me, but I can't bring myself to look at him.

"You have nothing to apologize for," the vehemence in his voice takes me by surprise. One big hand cups my chin and I meet his gaze, "Nothing."

"Bobby-"

"Wait," he says, letting go of my chin to pull up another kitchen chair. We're sitting so close that our knees touch. I can feel the nervous energy in him like an electric current. "Don't say anything else. Just let me talk." When I nod, he begins to speak urgently, "I've been wanting to say this to you for a long time now but you've been cutting me off every chance you get."

"I haven't-"

He continued right over me, "Yes, you have. You told me you were done talking about Jo that day at the range and you've been turning a cold shoulder to me since then. I deserve better than that."

Anger flared, "I haven't been turning a cold shoulder!"

"Then let me apologize to you."

"You already-"

"No!" He shook his head. "Just shut up and listen. I want you to hear me, Alex," he leaned in, "We've been partners for six years- that's longer than some people stay married. You and I spend the better part of our waking hours working together on some of the worst shit out there. You've always got my back...I depend on you." He sucked in a breath and looked away, "I just….I need to tell you why I failed you."

Normally I would have shot him a sarcastic remark about his lack of perfection. But maybe I needed to hear this as much as he needed to tell it because I said nothing.

"You depend on me, and I failed you. You said it yourself, Alex: 'It was all so obvious'. So why didn't I see it?" Bobby scrubbed at his face with one hand, stubble rasping against his palm. "I didn't see it because I was wrapped up with Declan. Declan and his damn obsession with Sebastian!"

He stood suddenly and began pacing the length of kitchen, voice taut with anger, "But I was there when Jo came into the station. I saw how Declan completely ignored her once he realized you and I were on the case. I saw how she reacted! But I was blinded by pride and by my attempts at showing Declan how much the student has surpassed the master.

"Jo is the classic high functioning sociopath- it was all right there in front of me," Bobby came back to where I was sitting, "Declan was so self-centered that he twisted his own daughter into the kind of creature he has spent his whole life studying. I should have seen it a mile away- how dangerous Jo had become, how much she needed Declan to finally pay attention to her," he sat down to face me again, "I failed you, Alex, and I'm so sorry. You have every right to be angry with me….to doubt me…"

"I just want you to know that you are not only my partner and my friend….you're more than that." Now he was perfectly, eerily still, his dark brown eyes fixed intently on me, "When you were missing…when we were looking for you…Declan told me to remember procedure- to assume that you were already dead. But I couldn't do it, Alex. Imagining that you were gone…" his expressive face twisted with remembered pain, "I didn't realize how much you mean to me until I thought I'd lost you."

"When I opened the trunk of your car and saw that body….I swore to myself that if, by some miracle, it wasn't you….if you came back to me alive….I would tell you the truth. I'd tell you how much you mean to me. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I stare wordlessly at him, remembering back to when Barek had come to visit me in the hospital. She had told me how Bobby had reacted when they realized that I'd been taken. "It was like he was possessed, Alex. Nothing else mattered to him except finding you."

"Logan would have done the same thing for you," I'd said, but she shook her head.

"No, it was more than that. I was there when we found the body in your car- the one that we all assumed was going to be you," she had leaned close, putting one warm hand over mine. "I think you and Goren need to talk. It's normal for partners to feel-" she arched an eyebrow at me, "more than just 'friendship' with each other. But if that's the case, you guys need to sort it out."

If it had been anyone else saying what she said, I would have blown a gasket. But Barek was as perceptive as Bobby was, in her own way, and I had to admit she was right. That's why there were so many damn regs about fraternization. Everyone knew it happened and when it did, the parties involved had two choices: cut it off and continue being partners, or split up professionally. It was too dangerous to be both lovers and partners. Too many emotions got involved and the consequences could be deadly.

After Barek left, I had spent a long time thinking about what she'd said. The best partnerships were a mix of intimacy and boundaries- you don't spend 12 hours a day, four or five days a week, with someone without learning about all their little quirks. And God, did Bobby have his quirks!

The two partners I'd had before Bobby had both been great guys. The first, Trent Royston, had taught me the ins and outs of being a beat cop. He had been nearly fifteen years my senior so it was natural for him to fall into a big brother role. I was always invited to his family gatherings and we were still on great terms.

Then there was Jerry, my Vice partner. Jerry and I were nearly the same age and he had been in Vice for just a couple of years before we got matched up. He hadn't been as easygoing as Trent, and we spent plenty of time arguing. Jerry was also a player- he had so many 'girlfriends' that I gave up keeping track of them. With his dark good looks and arrogant cockiness, he attracted women like crazy. There was always some scuttlebutt being tossed around the house about Jerry's escapades. So, once or twice in the deep morning hours of some dragging stake out, I might have briefly entertained the thought of what Jerry was like in bed. Very briefly, since Jerry was so not my type.

And then there was Bobby. He was so different with his manic energy, his intensity and, his scary intelligence. I was used to working cases based on hard facts. Bobby worked cases based on intuition. He had the ability to dip into the minds of the perps in

a strange, twisted empathy that could get seriously creepy.

Our first few weeks together were so difficult that I half-considered going to the Captain for a reassignment. I didn't of course, and we learned to mesh our skills so we complemented each other. Major Case Squad was a tough assignment but we both loved the challenge.

In six years, we had become friends, sharing jokes and arguments, triumphs and frustrations. There had been plenty of late nights filled with bad coffee, greasy burgers and mounds of paperwork. We had supported each other through work and personal crises. I had been there when Bobby had agonized over and finally made the decision to put his mother into a home. Bobby had been there for me on the dark night that marked the 10th anniversary of John's murder.

We had each saved the other's life more than once.

So when, in the last six years, did my feelings of friendship become more? When did I start craving his myriad casual caresses? He was always touching me: in the small of my back as he held open a door, on the shoulder as he handed me a cup of coffee. When did his habit of sitting practically on top of me when we were working a file become less of an annoyance and more of a pleasure? When did I start getting an electric thrill when our knees brushed under a desk or table?

Those had been my thoughts as I sat in my hospital room nearly a month ago. The truth of it had scared the crap out of me: I had fallen in love with Bobby. But there was no way in hell I could admit it to him or anyone else. Rules and regs aside, I didn't want my stupid emotions to foul up the best partnership and friendship I'd ever had.

The next morning I had checked myself out against doctor's orders and retreated home. I had ignored Bobby's calls even though I needed him so badly that it hurt. Instead of taking his comfort, I began the process of forcing myself to fall out of love with him. I thought I'd done it, too.

But now, sitting here with him only inches away, I realize how wrong I'd been. I needed this man. I needed his strength, his patience and courage to help me through this dark place I was in. I needed him now and I needed him for the rest of my life. I was just terrified of the consequences if I told him so.

I need you, I thought, but I couldn't say it.

Bobby had been watching me intently during my long silence. He sat as still as I'd ever seen him, big frame perched on the edge of the chair and leaning close into me. His composure began to crumble at my unresponsiveness. "I'm sorry, Alex," he said hoarsely, dropping his head into his hands, but not before I saw the tears in his eyes.

I need you, Bobby! Why can't I just say it?

His wide shoulders hunch with pain and a strangled sound escapes from between his fingers. His head is bent over my lap now, we are sitting so close together but not quite touching….

"I need you, Bobby."

Did I say that? Oh God, did I really just say that?

"I need you," I say it again before my courage fails me.

Bobby's head comes up and he is staring at me with a mixture of hope and caution. I put my hands to his face, words coming out of me in a rush: "When…when I was in that room with Jo…I thought that was it. I thought I was going to die and you know what I wanted more than anything? To see the people that I loved one more time. I wanted to see my parents. I wanted to see my sister and little Dylan. I wanted to see you."

Without thinking, I lean forward, pulling him toward me and suddenly my lips are on his.

Oh.

It's a chaste kiss for only a moment, then Bobby's hands drop to my hips to pull me into his lap. I'm breathless with the taste and smell of him so close. The world shrinks to this place and this moment where I finally feel safe, enveloped by his arms.

I make a sound of protest when he pulls away from me. "Wait," he rasps. It's all he says but I know him so well I hear the unspoken words: Are you sure this is what you want?

I meet his eyes, so dark with emotion and desire that they're nearly black. "I need you," I say for the third time.

Then Bobby is cradling me in his arms as he carries me into my bedroom. The sky outside the windows is the palest shade of blue-grey, casting a dim pre-dawn glow over us as he gently undresses first me and then himself. We lie together under the quilts and begin to unhurriedly kiss again.

Time becomes lost to me. There's only the feel of his body under my hands- so strangely familiar- and the sweet taste of him on my lips. He traces spirals over my skin with mouth and tongue, whispering my name and words I cannot understand in languages I don't know. But it doesn't matter- I'm melting into him with soft abandoned cries.

Then I feel him in me and over me and we're moving together without coherent thought in a slow rhythm that seems to last an eternity. When my world starts to fragment, I open my eyes to see Bobby's gaze locked on mine. And then he's saying my name over and over, his strength lifting me and enveloping me in an unspoken promise of love as the rosy light of a new day fills the air.

fin