Concience
Alex Eames hung up the phone, grinning with satisfaction. Three hours work, after shift, but she'd found something her buddy Mentner over in the 2-6 could use to further his case. Her reward would be dinner on him and his partner. He'd said anywhere she wanted and it had been a damn long time since she'd been to Trattoria Alba. After a moment's thought she realized it had been back when they'd been dating, before she joined Major Case. She could already taste the veal.
It wasn't until she'd packed up and had her coat on that she realized there was a light on in the CO's office. Deakins had all the blinds drawn tightly, but a tiny sliver shown under the door. She glanced again at the clock and pursed her lips. The old man should be long gone. Knowing he probably didn't want to be disturbed and feeling a little odd about dropping in on him when they were basically alone, she knocked on his door anyway.
When she heard a muffled "Come" she opened the door slowly and stepped in. Jimmy Deakins had his jacket and tie off. His short silver hair was ruffled as if he'd been running his fingers through it in that nervous way he had. The rolled up sleeves of his pale blue shirt showed his powerful forearms and he had a half empty cup of coffee next to a stack of files that threatened to topple onto him at any minute.
Alex raised an eyebrow and grinned slowly. "Barek's dad knows construction. He could shore that up for you before it kills you."
Chuckling reluctantly, he nodded. "You might want to give him a call. There's more I haven't gotten out yet." He sounded resigned to the never ending paperwork, his natural good humor wearing thin.
She leaned against the door frame and took in the tableau for another minute, uncomfortably aware she was staring. "We didn't generate all that, did we?"
"Oh yes, you did." He picked up a healthy stack and waved it at her. "This much is you and your partner alone." At her guilty look, he put the folders down. "Don't feel too bad. You're good about staying on it. And they changed some regs on me, so I have to redo half of the month's reports." He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head and looked at her at her quizzically. "I know I didn't authorize any overtime for you, it would be in this stack somewhere, so what are you doing here? I thought you were one of the ones who had a life."
She ducked her head for an instant, coloring. "I have one, I guess. Between work and family and the bird." Alex pushed her hair out of her eyes and thought about her plans for the next few days. "Yeah, I have one. Told a buddy from the academy I'd go through some records here and see if I could find him some old contact info on a perp of theirs in exchange for dinner." She walked over and picked up a file, flipping through it absently.
Deakins laughed. "I hope the pay out's good." He laughed harder when she told him where. "I always knew you were a clever girl."
She colored again at the unorthodox praise. He never stinted on telling his detectives they'd done well, or badly, but 'clever girl' had an odd intimacy to it. . "That's because you know talent. The question is how you got roped into doing this all alone. Don't you have a PA who is supposed to do some of it?"
He shrugged, turning his chair to follow her progress. Still leaning well back in his chair, he shifted his hips forward and groaned as his back adjusted. "I couldn't ask the kid to stay late; she's got a young kid at home." He sighed deeply and shook his head, a touch of regret filling his voice. "Mine are older. They're used to me being gone."
Leaning against his desk, playing with another file, she nodded. "My nephew isn't three yet and he knows the drill. Bobby does his best to get me out of here, but sometimes there's nothing you can do." She looked beyond him at the photos of his daughters on the consol table. He must have updated them because they looked much older than the last time she'd looked. Or maybe she'd forgotten that he was that much older than her and his girls were becoming young women.
He saw where she was looking and turned to pick up the photos. Sighing gently, he ran a finger along the jaw line of his middle daughter. "They get used to it, but it's never good." Deakins looked up at her with a rueful smile. "Better I let her go and just suck it up, hmm?" His blue eyes held his regret more than his voice did.
Alex stood straight in a rush, almost knocking over all the files on that side of his desk. Shaking her head, she disagreed. "No, see, you shouldn't be here either." She waved at the files. "You know this isn't going anywhere. Better to keep her an hour each day than you stay for hours one night. It doesn't matter how old they get or how much they understand, they still want you there."
She looked away, shaking her head at the vehemence in her tone. Knowing full well where it came from, she couldn't meet his eyes. He was as good a detective as any of the people working for him, probably better, and she had a horrible feeling he'd be able to see what she was thinking.
He looked up at her in some surprise. Setting the photos down gently, he stood and rolled down his sleeves. Without another glance at the teetering piles, he got his jacket and slipped it on. He brushed his fingers through his hair and looked at the ground before speaking softly. "Thank you for the reminder, Alex. I get caught up in how close they are to being grown. Get to feeling like I've done what I can and their sorry old dad doesn't matter anymore."
She nodded shortly. "Of course. I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn."
He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her out of his office. Lights off and door locked, he turned to her and smiled. "You spoke from the heart. I appreciate that." Leaning down, he brushed his lips against her hair and whispered. "So will the girls."
She told him she had one more call to make before she left and watched him leave the bullpen before sinking into her chair and resting her head in her hands. Thank God she had some self control. Bad enough to chew the guy out about his family, but if she'd told him what she was really thinking he'd have laughed her out of his office. Groaning at the memory of his head back and his legs spread as he sprawled in the big desk chair, she was grateful for the years of undercover work keeping her expression innocent. It had been on the tip of her tongue to tell him how good he looked like that, especially after he called her a 'good girl'. She paled at how close she'd been to turning and kissing him when he touched her hair.
Groaning loudly, she stayed at her desk until she could be sure he'd left the building.
Standing in the elevator, James Deakins rubbed his eyes slowly, trying to push away his impressions of the conversation he'd just had. A woman he respected had chewed him out, nicely enough, for neglecting his daughters. He didn't think she'd meant to and he didn't take it badly. She didn't tell him anything he hadn't thought more than once or that his wife hadn't said.
No, what he really worked at pushing away as he pushed his fingers into his flesh was how prettily she'd blushed and how she couldn't keep her eyes off him. He flattered himself for an instant that she liked what she saw, but that was an old man's delusion. She was a trained observer and what she saw was a guy who didn't want to be there and just needed a push in the right direction.
He climbed into his car and called home, relieved to hear the pleasure in his wife's voice when he told her he'd be home before the girls went to bed after all.
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