Chapter Text
Bobby breathed deeply, forcing himself to concentrate on the road stretching ahead of him in the diffuse glow of his headlights. As Eames was fond of pointing out, defensive driving wasn’t his forte during the best of times. The last thing anyone needed him to do was get himself into an accident. Normally, he’d listen to the radio or an audiobook on his trips to Lake Carmel and back, which provided enough to keep the restless part of his mind occupied so that the rest of him could deal with the task of driving. But lately, it was all he could do to focus enough to get through work and deal with his mother’s care, much less grant attention to much of anything outside of his thoughts on a trip he could do in his sleep.
His thoughts turned from the road to his partner. Of the countless conversations he’d had with her, three words in particular kept replaying in his head. He’d asked if things were okay between them, and she’d responded with a simple, “I hope so.” Alexandra Eames was not given to hedging. She said what was on her mind, and people knew where they stood with her. Which meant that where he stood was uncertain. That bothered him, but he took a measure of comfort in the small, wry smile she’d given him with the words. He knew he’d be in trouble if that smile ever went away for good.
To a degree, he could understand the hard time Eames had had with the case. The double standards Maureen Pagolis had faced in her career had not been fair, and he knew Eames identified with some of the woman’s struggles. Eames was, without question, the most competent police officer he knew, yet there were still people who would never see anything in her but their own biases and low expectations. He could see why Eames had admired Pagolis and why the issues around the case had made her angry. But he no longer had any patience for hero worship in any guise. The last year had seen to that.
And the fact of the matter was that fair or not, Maureen Pagolis had had options many other women did not. She’d made her choices, and now she was facing the consequences. Pagolis seemed like an ethical person. It was amazing to him how many otherwise steady people’s clarity left them when it came to their own lives. He frowned as he recalled the look on Eames’ face when they’d caught Pagolis out with her decision to say nothing to save her dear friend—a mixture of disappointment and resignation. Not jaded, but maybe closer to it than before. What was it Deakins had said? When heroes fall, they take everyone down with them. Even people they had no idea they were taking.
He’d wanted to tell Eames he was sorry that the case had turned out the way it did—that he understood her disappointment. But that somehow didn’t seem like the right response. He wasn’t sure what the right response was. He did know that he missed her—missed the ease they’d had in each other’s presence. It was still there, but harder to find, as if they had to work to keep it. The one thing he was certain of was that he would put in that work. He valued her too much not to.