Spes non Fracta

( The story is finished. It was way harder than I thought it would be, but also a lot of fun. I hope a few people have enjoyed reading it, as much as I did writing it. Thank you for sharing and finally a small fluffy chapter to finish. B.)

Chapter 14

They were surprised to see Judge Clarke waiting for them in the observation room. He stood beside Ross,they had been watching the interview with the librarian. Goren wondered how long he had been there and what he had seen.

Should he be worried?

Then i a move that surprised the large detective, the judge moved forward and shook Goren's hand.

"Thank you for what you have done for my family. Your style is unusual, but I cannot believe how quickly you have resolved this. I am impressed with how you both have worked this case." He glanced down at Eames, then back at Goren. " You are as clever as they say."

Goren shifted uncomfortably sideways on his feet, embarrassed by the attention. A hesitant nod was the only response he could give.

The judge had turned to Eames and shook her hand.
"I am sorry that were injured, detective, let me know if I can help at all."

She acknowledge his comment with a nod.

"I know my wife will want to thank you when she knows the killer has been caught. You are a formidable detective and nice teamwork." He continued to hold her hand as he turned to Goren. "And you are damn lucky to have her as your partner. How does she put up with you?"

Goren felt compelled to speak, to answer those questions.

"Yes, I am lucky and I don't know how."

Eames raised her eyebrow at him.

The judge continued, he was obviously pleased with their quick result.

"Well, I have heard a lot of unusual things about your methods, and when we first met, I was sceptical. But frankly, I know understand and I appreciate your methods. They are worth it, because you bring peace, comfort and hope to the victims and their families in difficult circumstances. And after all that's what it's about." He had let Eames hand go, smiled at them both.
The detectives were not accustomed to getting such praise. Not lately anyway, they felt a little uncomfortable.

"If you ever need help, contact me. I'll be there for you."

Both detectives nodded.

The judge looked at Ross for confirmation. "Captain, you take care of these two."

Ross was pleasantly surprised "Yes sir," in a grateful voice.

"Well that woman," the judge pointed at the window, refused to look at the librarian again, "will be going to jail and you have saved us all a lengthy court case. I won't forget that."

Eames found her voice. "Glad we could help."

The judge smiled at her, studied her face as though memorising her features. Was he seeing the possibilities for a daughter now gone?

"If you'll excuse me, I need to go."

"Captain" with a nod at Ross, he left.

"Well you've made a friend, at least." Ross commented when the judge left.

It had been a job well done.

"Eames, you can go home if you like. I can get someone to help Goren type up the reports. Give your arm a rest." Ross offered to her. She looked a little tired, certainly understandable in the circumstances.

"No, that's all right. Reports might be a bit short though."
Eames was happy to stay. Sitting at her desk would be restful enough.

"Okay, You can pass them on to Goren and he can make them a bit longer."
He looked at them both with a pleased expression . "Detectives." And he left.

The detectives were now alone and they turned to see the final scene play out in their case.

They stood close together as they watched the broken woman struggle through her confession.

Goren looked down at his partner as she silently stood there. He could faintly see the slowly healing head wound through her hair. He blinked, trying to gather courage.

"Eames, what the judge said……. He was right." He was having difficulty expressing himself.

Eames knew what he was trying to say.

"Forget it genius. You can buy me dinner as thanks." and she smiled up at him, brushing her hair to one side. "I'm lucky too."

And the genius who could order a dinner in a least 5 languages, could not find the words he needed to say to speak to this one special woman.

She kept smiling at him, knew he was tongue tied, as she walked out of the room. She walked towards her desk. Her head hurt, her arm hurt, various other parts of her body were aching, but it had all been worth it.

Goren followed her.

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They had finished the case in time for a late lunch.

"Logan's celebrating something he won't tell us about, at the local Italian restaurant,…… interested?"

She gathered her purse and awkwardly grabbed her coat from the rack as she gave him time to think of a reply .

"No, thanks, I'll…. I'll just finish these reports." He gave a small smile to ease any hurt in his refusal

"Okay, see you." Eames was not going to be offended by his refusal. Thought he would say 'no' anyway.

"I'll bring you back some garlic bread." She offered. She had hoped he would come.

Goren smiled at her offer and watched her as she started to walk away. When he realised he was staring he turned away and opened his top drawer.

His hand stopped in surprise.

In a repeat of a few weeks ago, someone had placed a foreign object in his drawer.

He stared at it.

It didn't make any sense. He thought over the last few days.

Then he understood. He knew who put it there.

He could feel the blood pounding in his ears. His head felt light.

Time slowed.

It was two small pink feathers.

He knew Eames had put it there.

'Hope is the thing with feathers.'

He grabbed his coat and ran towards the lift.

It's not too late,

He could see the back of her coat as she turned the corner.

"Eames, wait."

The End

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson