Summary: “Isn’t he the crazy guy that throws himself off of buildings and slices his hand open in interrogation rooms?”
A/N: Everyone has their own take on what Alex’s family must be like, here’s a sampling of mine. Since the writers haven’t given us a clear picture of the Eames family, I took some liberties while still trying to be faithful to what we do know. This could be considered a continuation of my story "Overprotected".
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? Seriously Alex, I’m responsible too ya know. This is my child too.” He was making a last-ditch offer to accompany her to her parents’ house to break the news she was pregnant. Since Nicole Wallace had so thoughtfully revealed to the captain and certain other key players in their professional lives, Alex could no longer put off telling her family. God forbid they heard it from someone else. She’d never hear the end of it.
She looked at Bobby from across his apartment. “I know that and you know that,” she reasoned, “But honestly, your being there might . . .” Alex searched for how to put it into words he’d understand, “heighten emotions and further aggravate the situation,” she finished finally. Cop terms, she thought, word it like one of those criminal profiles he likes so damn much.
She could see by the look on his face that her carefully chosen words hadn’t had their desired effect. “What?” he asked genuinely perplexed. “How can that be? Wouldn’t your family want the man responsible there?”
She leaned her hip against the counter, put her hand on her waist, and looked at him from underneath her eyelashes, “My family are cops, firefighters, nurses . . . they could make New York a very uncomfortable place for you, Bobby.”
“You make it sound like the mob,” he grumbled scrunching up his neck in an effort to look down, trying for the third time to knot his tie properly amongst their exchange.
She smiled at him exasperatedly, leaving the omelet she was making on the stove to walk across the wood floor to stand in front of him. She gently pushed his arms down to his sides, evening the silk in her hands, “I come from a family of cops, Bobby. They have guns.”
“Well, so do I,” he countered weakly.
“Yeah but they wouldn’t hesitate to use them,” she replied, straightening his tie.
“I’m going to have to meet them eventually,” he commented quietly in the voice that usually broke her heart, like a pathetic little boy. But today she was putting her foot down.
She gave him a look, “Come on, Bobby, this is the Eames family – we have a picnic for everything, you’ll get to meet them.”
He rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off by quickly pressing her mouth to his and picking up his jacket, “Go to work. I’ll be right behind you.” He didn’t complain, just rubbed his hands over his mouth a few times and grumbled some words under his breath she chose not to acknowledge and saw him out the door.
TBC
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment