"Diamonds don't keep you warm at night." he says, and she wonders exactly why it is that she's partnered off with this man, this person who she barely knows, whom she can't read, and who seems to veer off course with every move he makes.
And yet, he's right, and she feels like coffee, so she takes the keys, and drives, and they end up at a coffee shop. He looks at her for a moment, and then speaks.
"Thanks for backing me up," he says, almost shyly, and she shakes her head at him.
"What else d'you think partners are for?" she asks, taking a sip from her coffee as it's handed to her. She hands him the one she's gotten for him, and he takes a sip, too, a faint smile on his face.
"I take it this means you're going to stick around, then?" he asks, and it's hard to miss the almost hopeful note she hears there.
She nods. "Yeah, I'll stick around," she says, and wonders if she really will, because she knows his reputation, and she knows that he's unorthodox, and knows that she's not.
And if there's one thing Alex knows right then and there, it's that she's not too sure this will work.
He says to her that he's not interested in living with the sort of art she nailed him looking at while they were investigating, but rather, he's interested in thinking about it. And it seems to fit him perfectly, because he's struck her as the sort of person who likes to think about things.
"You think too much," she tells him, in a fit of frustration, during a lull where they're waiting for something they need. He gives her an amused look.
"Suppose it wouldn't help to tell you that it clears my mind," he says, dryly, and she rolls her eyes.
"No, it wouldn't," she says. "How d'you figure it clears your mind?"
He shrugs. "Could be doing other things," he says, without looking at her. "Besides, I like to think."
Which is exactly why you're here, Goren, she thinks, suddenly amused, herself. She knows he came from Narcotics, the same way she came from Vice, and knows from rumors she heard from that squad that he can talk his way into and out of anything.
She wonders where it will get them.
"Overbearing," she says, and he looks at her for a moment, before nodding in agreement. She's talked him into going out for a drink with her, though she isn't sure why; she usually goes with other friends of hers.
"Takes the protectiveness of a parent to a new level," he says. "She really thought this girl wasn't good for her son, so she did away with her."
"Lovely," she says, dryly. "You know, my dad never really liked any of my boyfriends, but he never offed any of 'em."
"Same here," he says, amused, "Only it was my mother. She was the only one around."
And she wonders what he means, but doesn't pry, because things are still tentative between them, and the lines are invisible, and she's afraid of crossing them, and has the feeling that he is, too.
"Well, that's one thing we have in common, then," she quips. "We each had a parent that didn't like who we chose to date."
"I think it's that way with most parents," he says, then, "I just…don't really know…about many who take it to this level."
She snorts. "You should work Homicide," she says, "I'm sure you'd see it a lot more often."
He tells her that he's a lapsed altar boy, and she laughs, because it just figures, the disregard for authority, the fascination with bad behavior…She tells him this, and waits for a reaction, but all he does is look at her, which is really what she expected in the first place.
"What happened?" she asks, later, when it's just the two of them, and Deakins isn't around to hear. He shrugs.
"Crisis of faith," he admits. "I just…woke up one day and wondered if what I'd been taught all my life was really true, and by that point…Well, I had a choice as to whether or not I wanted to go to church by then, so I just…didn't go."
She's torn between envying him, and feeling sorry, because her parents poked her into going to church every Sunday; she never really had a choice in the matter, but at the same time, she wishes that she didn't hear the note of almost-sadness in his voice. She decides not to poke at him about it.
"You ever wonder if something will bring your faith back to you?" she asks, slowly, and he looks at her and sighs.
"Sometimes I do," he says, "And then something like this happens, and all it does is make me wonder if I ever really had faith in the first place, or if I just thought I did because I was told I did."
She glares at him when it's all over and done with, because she hates playing the Vice role sometimes, and it's what she had to do in order to get this guy to admit to what he did; various murders, all this guy's lovers, and she really wants to smack him, but she wants to smack her partner more.
"You owe me," she tells him flatly, when their suspect's been taken away, and the interrogation room window's broken, and Deakins is going to have a fit later on, but right now, none of them really care. He nods, and feels guilty, because it was his idea in the first place.
"I know," he says quietly, and then, "I shouldn't have talked you into this."
And she realizes then that he really is sorry, unlike other male partners she's had, who've watched her, and have known she's uncomfortable, but right now, he's the uncomfortable one, shifting on his feet, and avoiding her eye. She sighs.
"We got our guy, didn't we?" she asks, and he looks at her, finally, and nods again.
"Yeah," he says, and can't help but let a small smile cross his face. "Guess we did."
She laughs at him, shaking her head. "Take me for a margarita one of these days, and we might be even."
"Deception seems to be a theme these days," he remarks wryly, once all is said and done and over with. "People being lied to, all over the place, falling for the lies of some European guy, just because they think he's 'charming'…" And she laughs, because it's true.
"I hate when people lie to me," she says, and means it, because she does, and can't imagine anyone who'd actually like it. "Like they say, the truth shall set you free."
He laughs, and she can't help but notice the sound. Her partner is an enigma in and of himself, and she knows it, and she wants to figure him out, but she doubts it'll happen anytime soon.
"What?" she asks, and he shakes his head at her.
"You ever notice that your remarks always seem to come at the most appropriate times, even if they're not necessarily appropriate?" he asks, and she rolls her eyes, because it's typical for him to notice something obscure like that.
"Tell me something, since you notice the most random things about people," she says, and when he nods, she goes on. "How many different colored ties has Deakins worn this week?"
He pauses for a moment, and when he answers, she laughs, and when he gets what she's laughing at, he does, too.
She knows they're in for it when Deakins turns on the television to find that someone's given away information about this latest case, about the tampered-with painkillers, and she's surprised that her partner's managed to keep a straight face. When they leave the office, she pokes at him.
"I swear you thrive on giving that man headaches, Goren," she remarks, but he looks at her, and says nothing for a moment, before shrugging.
"We couldn't just keep it a secret for the rest of the case," he points out, "Someone had to tell the public that medicine's being tampered with."
And she sees the point, but at the same time, she wonders how they're gonna get out of this one once their captain figures out what they've done, and she's keeping her fingers crossed, figuratively speaking, that they'll catch the culprit before it happens.
"He's gonna kill us when he finds out we told Briscoe and Green," she remarks, but he shakes his head.
"Technically, we didn't tell them anything," he says, and she doesn't miss the mischievous note she hears. "They figured it out on their own."
And later, when Deakins finally gets it into his head to ask, that's what they go with.
"Figures he'd give us hell for this, you know," she says, once they realize that there's bribery going on in the governor's office, and they decide to go for it.
"Does he really expect us to stand aside?" comes the reply, and Alex shakes her head, because it figures Bobby would ask her this.
"No, but you know how he is about this sort of thing," she says dryly. "It's all about the politics."
"Guess he's not looking to be shoved off to the motor pool," says Bobby, and she smirks at him.
"Ought to tell him you said that," she says, but she won't, and he knows it, because neither one of them will want to let on to the fact that they've been poking fun at their commander behind his back.
"So, are we going to go for this or not?" he asks. "I think…I think we might be able to…to break this if we do…" And he trails off, and waits for her answer, and after a moment, it comes.
"Yeah, we'll go ahead," she says, as if they really have any other choice, "Let's just…hope we don't get any more hell for it. I've had about enough of that as I can take."
When he laughs, she kicks his foot under the desk.
An annex to missing persons, Deakins remarked, and the two partners exchanged glances and laughed when they left the office. Now, they sit across from each other, at the end of the case, and shake their heads, because this is one of those strange ones that'll have them both thinking for a while.
"I wonder why he didn't just get a divorce?" Alex remarks, and Bobby looks over at her.
"Not always that easy," he replies, vaguely. "Probably figured doing away with her would be the best way to go. It'd leave him free to marry his mistress faster."
She wonders why he seems to know so much about this subject, but doesn't say anything for a while. After a moment, she takes the coffee cup that sits on his desk and takes a sip, because she needs some form of caffeine. She makes a face.
"Disgusting," she tells him, and gives it back. "How d'you sit there and drink that?"
"I'll go get you coffee if you want, Eames," comes the reply, and she grins at him, rising to her feet and getting her coat.
"We should both go," she says, and in an undertone, "Let's just leave before Deakins notices, so he won't make us do paperwork."
He laughs, and shakes his head, but follows her out of the squad room anyway.
"Being betrayed by those who're supposed to care about you is the worst sort of betrayal of all," he informs her, and she nods, because she knows this already, and also agrees with it.
They've just closed a case where someone died because he was pretty much set up. A ninetieth floor apartment, no way to escape…She doesn't want to think about it.
"Least we got to the bottom of this," she says. "Could be worse. We could have found nothing, and then where would we be?"
"Sitting in the captain's office, trying to explain to him why his two lead detectives can't seem to close a case?"
She throws a paper clip at him. "You know what I meant, Goren," she says, but she's laughing at him at the same time, so he ignores the paper clip, for a moment, before deciding to throw it back at her.
"I hate paperwork days," he tells her, and she nods, once more in agreement.
"I'd leave if I knew I wouldn't get caught," she remarks, and he smirks.
"I think both of us would," he says, and there's silence for a long moment between them as they work on paperwork, because they really have nothing else to do, and then, Deakins comes out of the office.
"Go home, you two," he says.
And before he can think of anything else to add, they're gone.
"So, what do you really think?" she asks.
"I'll tell you when I get pregnant," he replies, and she bites back the desire to laugh at this, because she knows that he can't, and he knows it, too. It's probably why they end up sitting across from each other later on, having decided that they wanted to eat.
"If you could, would you?" she asks, and he knows what she speaks of, because the earlier two-line conversation was on the same subject.
"I don't know," he says, and really doesn't. "Part of me thinks I would, but the other side…complicated, you know?"
And she does, because she's thought of the same thing, time and time again, because she's always wondered herself, what would happen if she ever ended up pregnant.
"Shouldn't be up to the law," she says, finally. "Not everyone might agree with it, but…Do you really think the government should regulate what a woman does with her body?"
And he shrugs, and she knows it's either because he doesn't know an answer to give her, or he does, and he doesn't want to make her mad.