A/N: Okay, my take on the SVU episode "Acceptable Loss" featuring Eames. Part 2 in new series. Part 1 is 'Bleeding Drops of Red'. Please read that if haven't already. Thank you.

Pairing: B/A

Rating: T mostly

Disclaimer: I own what I've created; Dick Wolf owns all else.

Enjoy!

August 20th, 2011

He had just checked the food in the oven when he heard a knock at the door. Grabbing a hand towel off the counter, he wiped his hands as he hurried to the back door. Pulling it open, he saw Alex standing there with a box in her hands.

Alex greeted him with a warm smile as she held up the box. "I brought cake."

Smiling as he felt the slight embarrassment crept up his neck, he took the container from her as she pulled him down for a hug.

As she drew back, Alex gave him a soft kiss on his cheek before pushing him away so she could come in. "It smells great in here. Lasagna?"

"My mother's recipe. It should be done in half an hour. Wine?" he asked as he shut the door and locked it.

"Please and thank you."

Bobby looked her over as he put the box down on the counter. She was wearing a skirt that went down to her knees, long heels, and a dark colored blouse. It was Sunday so he wondered if she had come from church. He remembered her telling him that she was trying to get back into the routine of going to mass. Going over to the cabinets, he pulled down another wineglass and filled it with the red wine. Handing it to her, he picked up his own glass, which was nearly empty, and topped it off.

"A toast," she said as she raised her glass to his. "Here's to surviving fifty years, and hoping for fifty more. Happy birthday, Bobby," she told him as she clicked her glass against his.

As he took a sip of the wine, he thought about that last part and felt that was what the last fifty years of his life was like. A survival.

"Did you ever think you would get this old?"

Bobby chuckled as he shook his head, answering, "Honestly, no, I didn't. I thought that my life would be like that Who song…you know the line that goes: 'I hope I die before I get old'."

"And now?"

Smiling softly, he told her, "I'm glad I'm still here. It's actually not as bad as I thought it would be."

Alex smiled at him as she said, "I'm glad you're here too. So," she said as she looked around, "am I your only guest?"

"Yep. Just you, me, a bottle of wine, lasagna, and cake," he said as he opened the box and looked at the cursive writing on top of the birthday cake. "Red velvet with whipped cream icing, right?"

"Of course," she told him as she took a drink of the wine. There was a loaf of French bread on the counter along with a dish with homemade dipping oil. Alex broke off a piece of the bread and dipped it in the dish. After taking a bite, she hummed in pleasure.

"Also one of my mother's recipes."

"It's wonderful, what's in it?"

Bobby smiled as he shook his head, saying, "It's a secret." When she rolled her eyes, he laughed a little more. "C'mon, it's not hard to make this stuff. Just some olive oil, oregano, basil, and garlic."

"And?"

He tilted his head and eyed her. When she wouldn't back down, he grinned. "I'm not telling…family secret."

"You're supposed to pass on recipes like these, not keep them a secret."

"Fine," he said as he downed the rest of the wine in his glass. "When I die I'll be sure to leave it in my will, just for you."

"Great, that means I'll have to wait another fifty years for it."

"I doubt I'm going to live to a hundred, Eames. But, I appreciate the thought."

Alex broke off another piece and handed it to him. He took it and started to eat as they waited for the rest of the food to get done. While he prepared a salad, she disappeared into the rest of the apartment. Bobby didn't know what she was doing or cared for that matter. He trusted her in his home. A few minutes later, he heard a soft saxophone drifting into the kitchen and smiled. She had found his CD collection.

He heard her come back into the room and said, "Jazz?"

"It was already in the player, and I thought it would be better than the Rolling Stones."

"Aw, c'mon, Alex," he said as he turned around with the bowl of salad. "You know I've got the moves like Jagger." Alex started laughing as he danced across the floor like Mick Jagger. He put the bowl on the table and then opened the refrigerator door to get out the dressing. "Ranch?"

"Well that depends if you have creamy Italian?"

"Yeah, and it's low fat," he said as he grabbed it and shut the door.

Alex was already dishing out the salad onto separate plates as he sat the dressing down before taking the bread and oil dish off the counter and bringing it over to the table.

Once they were both seated, and digging into the salad, she asked, "She sounds great. Who is this?"

Bobby listened to the music for a second before telling her, "Bonnie J. Jensen…A song called 'Angel Eyes'. She has a great voice. One of my favorites…after Billie Holiday."

"I'm going to have to borrow this from you and burn a copy of it on my computer."

He smiled over at her as he picked up the wine bottle and refilled his empty glass. The way he was going through the wine, he was going to have to open up a new bottle before the lasagna was even done cooking. Ah, to hell with it. It was his birthday. He would get drunk on red wine if he wanted.

And right then, he wanted.

The timer went off and he immediately jumped up. As he got the lasagna out of the oven, Alex got down two plates. He dished them out a couple of pieces each and then sat back down. He watched as Alex sprinkled parmesan cheese all over hers before handing it to him. He waved it away as he watched her for a long moment.

Alex noticed his look and asked as she picked up her knife and fork. "What is it?"

Bobby had invited her over for a couple of reasons. Yes, it was his birthday and he didn't want to spend it alone, but also because he had something he wanted to talk to her about. Something he'd been thinking about for months now. Taking a breath, he simply told her, "I want to leave the NYPD."

She stared at him for a moment in silence, looking stunned before she quickly recovered. Then, her expression softened as she smiled knowingly at him. "How did I know something like this was coming."

"Did you?" he asked in confusion.

"In a way, I guess. All the changes I've been seeing in you. The therapy's helping," she explained as she sat the fork and knife down. The lasagna forgotten for the moment.

"But…?"

She laughed a little, shaking her head. "No buts. I think it's great."

He saw the sincerity in her eyes and knew she wasn't lying, but still, he had to let her know why. He didn't want her to ever have any doubts about his reasons. "And this time…it'll be on my own terms," Bobby said with a soft, genuinely content smile. "You know that I can't keep doing this forever. I wish I could, but…I'm fifty, Alex. I should be a Captain by now, or at least a Lieutenant in order to prolong my career. Running around, chasing after criminals at my age, well…I'm tired."

"You don't have to justify this decision to me, Bobby. I completely understand. Just yesterday I was thinking the same thing. I'm not getting any younger either, but unlike you, I did make Lieutenant."

He smiled at her and raised his wine glass to her. "And look at where you are. Still a detective," he said right before he took a sip.

"Because I didn't want it," she stressed to him again. "At least not at the price they made me pay for it. If it had been different, done differently, than yeah."

"But you stayed anyway."

Alex eyed him as she said, "I transferred, there's a difference."

He gave a nod as he picked up his fork and started in on his food. "And now?"

"And now I'm thinking of taking up a more…cozy position," she said as she did the same.

Bobby smirked as he took a bite. "Cozy. I don't think anything in law enforcement is cozy."

"How about less hectic."

"Any ideas of what you'll do?"

Alex gave a shrug, saying, "I've got options. I know someone in Homeland Security who's been trying to get me to on her team for years."

"Nice; that'll be a good fit for you," he told her in all honestly.

"How about you?"

Bobby gave that question some thought, the same thoughts he'd been going over for the past couple of months now. "You're not the only one with options. I've been talking with Hannah about being a consultant, you know, going freelance profiler." They both laughed at that as he picked up the glass. "Hopefully, word spreads and I can consult with outside departments. Go all over the country, maybe even the world. But, if not, the department always needs teachers, lectures for the police academy."

Alex glanced up at him with a bemused smirk on her face. "I can't see you in a classroom. You'll go crazy with anxious energy and drive your student's nuts."

"Yeah, maybe," he agreed with a chuckle. "I'll work it out though. I know people; got friends in the FBI, CID…Don't worry about me, I'll end up somewhere. However, the most important thing I want to do is be free, you know. To be left alone to do what I do best and not have to worry about the brass and everything that goes along with it. I'm done, over it. It's my life and I'm ready to take control of it. At best, I only have another thirty years…so why not make the best of what I got left?"

Alex chewed on a piece of garlic bread as she stared over at him. "Maybe I should see your shrink. I need your optimism."

"You're the last person who needs to see my shrink. If there's one thing I do know, it's that you're going to be just fine. You're strong…resilient, practical, and you don't have anything to worry about. You don't have my problems."

"Hey, you're doing pretty okay for yourself too, Goren. You're not as angry as you used to be," she told him while pointing her fork at him to emphasize her tone.

"'Not as' doesn't mean 'not'. I'm still angry, but, yeah, it's not as out of control as it used to be. But, each day that goes by, it's a struggle," he tried to explain as his thoughts took over his head. "I know that part of that struggle is due to the job. I've convinced myself that I need the structure to stay focused and to-to, to have a purpose…in my life. Now, I'm thinking, I don't need that structure. I want to be able to work when I want to work, or to sleep in when I feel like it. I want control over the cases I take, and when. To have time to just…relax and to catch up on everything I haven't been able to do for years. I want to start to really enjoy life outside the job instead of working myself to death." He took a moment to take a sip of the wine as he remember the feeling he'd been having for days, even months now. And the dreams that feeling had caused. "You know," he said as he swirled the wineglass between his fingers. "I had a dream the other night…We was working a case, and we were in a house. And, uh…you were there but in a separate part of the house we were searching or…something, I don't remember why we were there, but…I, uh…I started to feel panicky, I couldn't breathe and then…I heard someone come into the room. It was a man…I guess he was the suspect. Anyway, he had a gun and he was pointing it at me and instead of drawing my own gun…I collapsed."

"What happened?"

Bobby glanced up at her and said, "It was a heart attack. I remember staring at the ceiling of the house with this man standing over me…and I was dying. Not from being shot, but from my own heart. That got me thinking…I need to slow down, and being a detective until I'm sixty-five isn't going to work. I'll probably die before I get there."

Alex reached over and took his hand, stilling his movements. "Bobby, it's okay. You have to do what you have to do. We all change. We all get older and realize we have to make some serious life decisions. Like I said before, I completely get that and I'm at a crossroads in my life as well. It's not as dramatic as yours, but I'm right there with you. If you want to leave, then leave. Go live your life, you deserve that."

He squeezed her hand and held it for a couple long moments. With a smile, he looked up at her and gave a nod, saying, "Okay. Thanks."

"I don't know what you're thanking me for."

"We're partners," he stressed. "And I know in the past I wasn't…I would make decisions about our partnership without consulting you first, which was wrong of me to do that. I didn't want to do that this time."

Wrinkling her head in confusion, she asked, "So you made me dinner, on your birthday, and got me drunk?"

"You're not drunk."

"Not yet," she said with a smirk as she picked up her glass and finished it off.

Bobby picked up the bottle and poured her another before topping off his glass. They went back to the food and ate in comfortable silence as they both thought about what was just said while listening to the music drifting through the rooms.

As Etta James' voice filled the apartment with the song 'Don't Explain', he lounged back on his couch, glass of wine in his hand, and closed his eyes just as the saxophone kicked in. God, the sound the sax made shot right to his heart, to his soul. He felt the shivers that the solo always given him rush up his arms and then down his spine.

He felt her sit down next to him and lean back. Lifting his arm up, he didn't open his eyes as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her close. She didn't speak until the song was over, which he was thankful for. He loved that song.

"I notice you have a thing for the women jazz singers."

He felt the smile twist at his lips as he opened his eyes to look over at her. Alex was looking as relaxed and happy as he felt. Her bare feet were propped up next to his on the coffee table and she held her wineglass in her hands. "They were the best I think. Granted, their were some great men, Frank Sinatra, Nate King Cole, Ray Charles,…Louis Armstrong. But, something about the women…" he trailed off as he let out a shiver.

Alex just laughed. "I think it's because you're a man. You find their voices sexy."

"They are sexy," he lightly said as he returned to listening to the a piano solo. "I bet you swoon over Sinatra."

"I don't swoon."

He started to laugh as he said, "Yeah, right. There's got to be a man's voice, that when he sings…it hits you and it's…just…orgasmic."

Alex started laughing as she said, "Okay, I give you that, but it's not ol' blue eyes."

"How can it not be? As a man, I would give anything to have his voice. I mean, listen to 'One More For the Road' and tell me honestly that you don't swoon over hearing that. Hell, I've swooned over his voice."

She kept laughing and never answered his question. Bringing the glass up to his lips, he didn't much care if she ever answered. She could keep the answer to herself if she wanted. It could remain hers.

"Want a piece of cake?"

Opening his eyes, he went to put his glass down and get up when Alex patted his leg.

She got up while telling him, "I've got it," before going into the kitchen.

He listened to her getting down plates and opening drawers before getting up and heading in after her. Going over to the cabinets, he found the other bottle of wine. "Want some more?"

"Are your intentions to get me drunk so I can't drive home?"

"You're already drunk and can't drive home," he told her as he found the corkscrew. Opening the bottle, he let it breathe as he grabbed his plate and fork and followed her back into the living room.

He refilled their glasses before taking a big bite out of the cake and humming delight.

"Good?"

"Mmmm," he hummed again in pleasure as he leaned back on the couch and propped his feet back up on the table.

Alex did the same and soon they were once again eating in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company and the music.

Looking over at her once done, he asked while bringing the wineglass to his lips, "Did you come from church?"

"I wondered how long it would take you to ask me that," Alex said as she shifted to lay down long ways across his couch. She propped her feet up in his lap and smiled. "I did. I went with my sister and her husband, and my nephew, on Staten Island." She looked him over for a moment before asking, "how're you doing?"

He knew she wasn't asking about how he felt right at that moment. Every Sunday for years, he had visited his mother. Since her death he had struggled with his weekend routine. He had struggled with not having his mother there, with not visiting her every Sunday despite the outcome. It had become a part of his life and when it had stopped, he nearly stopped.

Taking a drink of the wine, he honestly told her, "I'm doing better. I've made it a routine now to visit her gravesite every Sunday, take her flowers…" he tried not to think about also visiting Frank's grave right along with his mother's. It was still hard and the thought always reminded him that he was now alone. Besides a nephew he never saw, and distant cousins and Aunts and Uncles, he had no family. He was the only one left. "It's better," he meekly said again and left it at that.

Alex didn't push for him to elaborate and he appreciated it. Instead, she gave him a soft smile and a nudge with her foot, telling him, "It takes time, and you're doing good, Bobby. Remember, you're still here."

As he peered over at her, he felt the heaviness of the day set in as his eyelids drifted closed. He was feeling so tired that it took a lot of effort to open his eyes, and when he did, he saw Alex leaning up. She closed the distance between them and he barely had time to think before she kissed him…on the lips.

They both stared at each other for a long moment after before he asked, "What was that for?"

Alex gave a shrug, telling him softly, like it was a secret between the two of them, "I felt like it and I wanted to, so…I did it." She leaned in and did it again, but this time he was ready and responded by kissing her right back. After a couple of soft kisses, she pulled back again and said, "Happy birthday," before getting up off the couch. "I'll take the couch."

"You can have my bed."

Glancing over her shoulder at him as she headed to the kitchen, she asked, "Are you sure?"

He gave a nod as she smiled and then went into the kitchen. A couple of seconds later she reemerged and headed to the hallway.

Stopping at the couch, she leaned down and gave him one more kiss before telling him, "Have a good night, and get some sleep. We work tomorrow."

"Yeah, uh…work," he said as he watched as she disappeared around the corner.

Sitting back against the couch, he took a sip of the wine as he thought about that kiss and what it meant, if anything. Breathing out deeply, he closed his eyes and shook his head. If Alex was trying to confuse and torture him, it was working. Finishing off the wine, he got up and took the glass to the kitchen.

Making sure everything was cleaned up and put away, he went to the couch and laid down, turned the music down low, and with a small smile on his face, closed his eyes. Before he knew it, he was asleep.

TBC...