Author: SilentG
Title: Lies
Fandom: LO:CI
Pairing: B/A
Rating: T for language & adult concepts
Spoilers: SVU episode "Acceptable Loss"
Archive: Anywhere – no need to ask – just attribute, and let me know if possible
Disclaimer: Not mine
Summary: She lies. He lies. Sometimes, lies can bring two people closer together. My *actual* post-ep for the SVU epi & web content. B/A, S10 compliant, SVU retcon.

A/N 1: I accidentally got spoiled about the 'Acceptable Loss' SVU episode and web content, so I went ahead and watched them. This is my response. I hope it's not too all-over-the-place; there was a lot of ret-conning to do to fit with my head!canon, LOL.

BTW I'm sorry, this turned into an angstburger when I wasn't looking. It was actually way angstier, but I reined in my inner agoniser and re-wrote. Check my LJ account for the details, the tag is 'fic: Lies'.

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CHAPTER ONE: SHE LIES

"So does this mean you're breaking up with me?"

Alex giggled, more from nerves than good humour. She'd had her worst shock in years when she arrived by request at 1PP this morning to espy the back of Bobby's head through the Captain's clear glass door, back after 7 weeks undercover. Why hadn't he let her know he was back? "It's not me, it's you. I hope we can still be friends." It was now 20 after eight, and he was still in there, presumably debriefing Hannah although his assignment had not been for Major Case.

"Wow, it's true what they say. Lady cops are hard-assed, cold-hearted bi…"

Alex heard a thump and then a scraping sound, and finally her sister's voice. "Sorry Alex. Some guys, huh?"

"Some girls' husbands." They both laughed, although Alex's was a little forced.

"So he's back, huh? Just boom, back at his desk like nothing happened?" Alex's whole family was getting a bit impatient on her behalf, although she'd not shared openly with them any of her hopes. They just knew. Encouraging comments like 'We see how he looks at you', became 'So, when you gonna jump his bones?' which had eventually, months later, devolved into a recriminating chorus of 'You seeing anybody? Is he?'

"Not exactly… he's still in with Captain Hannah, so…"

Her sister groused, but Alex shut her down. Truth was, she was too distracted to talk any more anyway, especially about that. She rang off and tried to focus on the busywork while she waited for her turn with their Captain. Her assignments with Anti-Terrorism had dried up almost a week ago, so her transition back to Major Case was immediate. She looked around at the familiar faces, lit up by an unusually sunny October day.

It was nice to stop lying. And it was nice having Bobby back.

o.o.o.o.o

In the end, working Anti-Terrorism had been fine, interesting even. Her stint 'cooperating' with the SVU squad had been less enjoyable, but within normal limits for the force. Nevertheless, she couldn't find it in her to feel bad about lying to Detective Benson. That first day at Special Victims, she'd been thrown off by the Detective's hostility… thought she'd blown her attempts at peace-making by babbling details… liars always elaborated. Having opened up once, she felt she had to keep it up, even though it went against her nature to share herself – even the persona she made up for the assignment – with colleagues.

She had been joking when she told her brother-in-law a couple weeks ago that to back up her lie, he might have to go undercover as her fake boyfriend. But Bobby didn't laugh when she recounted the story to him later that morning.

Are, does this mean you're seeing someone? He asked her testily.

His demeanour and the scowl that accompanied it turned the butterflies in her stomach into writhing knots. She was already on tenterhooks just seeing him, especially so soon… and his attitude sank her spirits.

Who has the time? She replied.

Then later,good mood apparently restored, I'll get right on that, he said, when she told him he was 800 pages behind on his memoirs.

Nope, the truckload of whoppers she laid on Benson wasn't exactly keeping her up at night. She'd had a few sleepless nights over Bobby's assignment, though.

She never learned where he actually was, but he'd risked sending her texts from a burner phone, her replies sent from its twin glued to her 24 hours a day until the moment she knew he was back.

o.o.o.o.o

You there? Most nights for almost seven weeks, the question was the same.

Yup. About to turn in. By agreement, she refrained from asking him any questions that answering – or not answering – might have jeopardised his assignment.

How was your day?

Okay, the same, she'd say, cautious of giving anything way.

I miss you, she'd revealed one night, softened by a couple of glasses of wine.

A long pause, then, Me too, he'd said.

o.o.o.o.o

"Glad to be back?" She asked, just to break the silence. They'd caught up briefly after her turn with the Captain, though she found her enthusiasm at his return dampened by her partner's demeanour and her own apprehension. A half hour ago, suffused with an impatience borne of uncertainty, she'd grabbed him by the cuff of his jacket and asked him if he wanted to go for coffee. His pained expression and stumbling reply left her testy and anxious, and she'd been trying to regain her equilibrium ever since.

"Eames, you have no idea," he muttered with a tense smile. Not Alex.

"Did you get tired of pretending?" she asked puckishly.

Her partner dropped his phone in his coffee.

While Bobby had been undercover, she'd actually had a dream about the Long Island Medium channeling Joe. He wants you to know he's glad you've started thinking of him as your 'first husband', the little blonde pixie said. And he approves of your choice. Or rather, he's glad you've finally decided. Even in her dream, Alex rolled her eyes. He wants you to know that when it comes to giving the man in question a clue, you're gonna need a bigger bat.

Those same words in that blowsy drawl were echoing in her ears as she batted her eyelashes at her partner.

"Uh, Eames, about that…"

Bobby was twitching almost spasmodically, picking at a nonexistent patch of nothing on a bare patch of desk, and turning red. She could almost see the gears turning as he tried to figure out what to say.

She could see it, right there on his face. Regret. Not her worst fears realised; much, much worse than that. He remembered. And he rued.

She stared at him, despair blooming in her chest, willing the very air around him to squeeze something out of his mouth.

"I – Eames, I never meant to…"

Suddenly she couldn't stand it any more. God, she was such an idiot, why did she have to do this here? She stood up, hoping she'd be able to hold it together until she could make it to the restroom. "Um excuse me, I think I have… something…"

o.o.o.o.o

Hey.

That last night (she didn't know then it was the last) his text had come much later than usual. She'd been up waiting, couldn't sleep without hearing he was OK.

Hey back, she'd replied. She waited a long time for his answer.

I'm drunk, was his surprising declaration. She'd been worried. He could've had someone leaning over his shoulder, reading. It was one of the scenarios they'd discussed, she was instantly on her guard.

Did something happen?

Part of their agreement was no questions, but if someone was monitoring them, it was the most natural response.

I'm just tired.

Long day?

Her phone was silent for so long, she almost picked up her other line to call their Captain. Finally, it buzzed and there was a reply.

I'm tired of pretending I don't love you.

Thirty-six hours later he was back.

o.o.o.o.o

Alex made it to the bathroom keeping her eyes glued to the floor and counting her steps, her neck and jaw muscles so tense from holding in a cry of pure anguish that she felt something go crack in her spine.

Stupid stupid stupid. Now she was sitting in one of the stalls, breathing carefully through her mouth to try to stay quiet as what felt like buckets of tears ran in between her fingers and down her arms, soaking her knees, and telling herself that it was her fault anyway, for getting her hopes up and practically propositioning her partner at work.

It was never gonna happen. You always knew that it was never gonna happen. There's no need to be so upset.

Those words had WORKED BEFORE, why were they failing her now?

But he said that he loved her.

Ugh, what must he think of her? Making a fool of herself, breaking their unspoken agreement. She cringed to think of him pitying her, feeling embarrassed on her behalf. How would she ever be able to face him? She thought of what she'd said to Benson over drinks. She'd thrown it in for dramatic effect. It was like we were married.

And that was the closest they were ever gonna get.

"Eames?" Came a quiet voice from the doorway; she hadn't heard him come in.

"Go. Away. Bobby." Her words were barely gurgles, punctuated by horrible, strangled sounds.

"Eames I'm, God I'm sorry. I crossed a line, I…"

"You didn't. Cross. A line. This has. Nothing. To do. With you." The effort it took to bite out the deceitful syllables almost cost her the last thread of her self-control. Only once in thirteen years had she made her partner responsible for her emotional needs, and that was once too many and was not to be repeated. Their future depended on it.

"Stop lying Eames, Christ. Just stop it. Do you still think you have to protect me? Or is it just more convenient for you to not have a real conversation with me."

The barked order – delivered in her partner's reedy tenor in a tone usually reserved for suspects – shocked her so much that she actually did stop, for a few seconds.

Stop lying.

He didn't try the door. As she sat in stunned silence, not even breathing, she heard a scrape scrape scrape along one of the dividing walls, then his big head appeared over the top.

He looked so worried she almost laughed. Then she remembered why he was so worried, and she started crying again.

Smokey Bear says, "Only YOU can tell the author what you think of her fic!"

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A/N 2: Oh my. I've gotten into the bad habit of posting first chapters of fics that are ¾ finished. I think I might be able to write Chapter 4 tomorrow.