POST MORTEM: DIAMOND DOGS

A/N: This came to me late last night, and begged to be written. I wasn’t entirely sure where it was going, and I gave myself a couple of scares in the process, but here it is. There is a little bit of B/M slashiness implied, but keep in mind that the boys are both rather drunk, and nothing does actually happen.
(Sorry, Mike, I couldn’t help it – the story’s gonna go where the story’s gonna go…)

Bobby Goren was experiencing dejavu on a grand scale. Even as he downed his third glass of whisky, he was getting the whole ‘been there, done that’ sensation in a major way.

He shook his head slightly, trying to rid himself of the not entirely unpleasant buzzing sensation that had started in his head only a half hour ago. Whisky wasn’t the best thing to be drinking mid-week, and in all honesty he didn’t even remember who had bought the bottle. But there is was and, like some twisted miracle, his glass somehow kept refilling itself after he emptied it.

He set his glass down on the bench, and stared at it intently, as though hoping to catch it out magically refilling itself. It didn’t happen. He was just contemplating abandoning his place at the counter to find the bathroom when a familiar voice spoke from somewhere vaguely next to him.

“Goddamn head-shrinking female…”

Bobby glanced sideways, and found himself staring at one of the two newest additions to the Major Case Squad. And suddenly, he remembered.

He and Alex had been working on their paperwork from their most recent case when Deakins had stalked through the bullpen, on his way back from the interrogation rooms. They’d both watched, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as he strode into his office and slammed the door shut, hard.

Before either had the chance to speculate on what that was about, Barek and Logan had reappeared. Barek had been trailing behind a very angry looking Logan, a guilty expression on her face. Neither detective spoke a word to each other as they sat at their respective desks and started filling in paperwork.

“So, what do you think?” Alex had asked in a low voice. He had shrugged. He had no idea what the problem was and, in all truth, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, either.

“Maybe they blew the interrogation,” he’d murmured.

“I heard Deakins blew his stack at them earlier,” Alex mused. “Something about pulling in the wrong suspect…”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” he’d pointed out. “They were probably just trying too hard for a quick result.”

Alex had opened her mouth to reply to that, only to freeze as Logan suddenly launched himself to his feet so fast that his chair went flying over backwards. Without bothering to pick it up again, he stormed past his partner, throwing her a furious look before grabbing his coat and heading the lifts. Barek had watched him go, then shook her head helplessly and buried her face in her hands.

“Okay,” Alex had murmured decisively as she got up and walked around behind him to grab both their coats. “Paperwork’s done.”

He remembered staring first at her, and then at the unfinished pile of paperwork that still sat on her desk. She’d answered his incredulous look with a light smack across the back of his head.

“Don’t give me that look, Goren. Something obviously went wrong for them today.”

“And we’re supposed to do what…?”

“Don’t start acting dumb. You couldn’t pull it off if you tried. You take him, I’ll take her.”

“Eames, whatever happened, don’t you think it’s up to them to sort it out? Just because they’ve had a bit of a rocky start is no reason for us to play mediator.”

She abruptly dipped down to meet him, eye to eye. He drew back a little, mildly surprised at her use of one of his interrogation tactics.

“Just like Logan had no reason to offer you an open ear after that time when you two were trapped inside that prison?”

Bobby had flinched visibly at the memory, and Alex nodded in satisfaction.

“Glad to see you haven’t forgotten that. Now get off your ass, and go after him!”

And so he’d gone, if for no other reason than to appease his partner. He’d caught up with Logan just outside the entrance to One Police Plaza, and had said the only thing he could think of when Logan rounded on him for following him. He’d invited him to a nearby bar for a drink. After just a moment’s hesitation, Logan had agreed.

And so, here they were. Logan had said not a word from the time they sat down, up until now, and from the way he was swaying on the barstool, Bobby guessed Logan had spent most of that time getting well and truly shit-faced. But now he had spoken, and it didn’t take too much effort on his part to understand that Logan was referring to his new partner.

“What happened?” he asked, vaguely aware that his own voice was not completely slur-free. Yes, he was definitely more than a little bit tipsy himself. “She mess up the interrogation?”

“Nah,” Logan muttered. “We nailed them. The kid and his mom…”

“Wouldn’t have thought so, the way Deakins stormed back to his office.”

Logan grunted, and Bobby thought he heard him mumble something that sounded suspiciously like ‘tight-assed ingrate’.

“Then you and Barek came out, and you looked like you wanted to strangle her,” Bobby added. “What happened, she get a little personal, or something…?”

Logan slammed his hand down on the counter, drawing not only Bobby’s attention, but the attention of everyone in their immediate proximity, as well. Bobby nodded, unfazed by the abrupt display of temper.

“Or something,” he deduced.

“She used it, and she had no right to,” Logan suddenly burst out. “How the fuck did she know, anyway? I didn’t tell her. I swear to God, if Deakins told her…”

“Hang on a second, pal,” Bobby said, swinging around on the barstool to face his colleague. “What did she use?”

Logan fell silent, and Bobby was just starting to think he wasn’t going to answer, when he did finally speak in a subdued voice.

“You really wanna hear it?”

A small part of Bobby wanted to shout no, but he suppressed the urge to give Logan the brush-off. Instead, he simply nodded.

“Well… can we go somewhere else?” Logan wondered. “Don’t want it round half the NYPD by tomorrow.”

Bobby guided Logan out of the bar, and into the first taxi that happened along. Bobby gave the driver his address, and they travelled for the most part in silence.

Logan sat staring out of the window, and Bobby found himself watching his colleague out of the corner of his eye, watching his morose expression reflected in window. Alex had been right, though. He owed it to Logan to try and help out, if he could… if Logan would let him. And, he still hadn’t thanked the detective for his help from the last case they’d worked together.

The taxi arrived at Bobby’s apartment building and somehow, they managed to make it inside and into the lift without falling over each other.

“I hope you aren’t going to throw up,” Bobby grumbled, only half serious as he eyed the pale shade of green that Logan seemed to be turning.

“Relax, Goren,” Logan mumbled. “I’m Irish. I can hold my liquor.”

Bobby looked doubtful, but didn’t argue. The lift arrived at the right floor, and the two men stumbled along the corridor to Bobby’s apartment. With some difficulty, Bobby managed to manoeuvre Logan inside and over to the sofa.

“Just stay there,” Bobby ordered him. “I’ll make coffee.”

“You mean you wanna be sober?” Logan called after him. “You’re no fun, Goren. And here I thought you brought me back here to seduce me.”

Bobby nearly choked, and was glad Logan had no chance of seeing how red his face had gone in the space of a couple of seconds. Struggling to keep his voice level, he answered as calmly as he could.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Logan. I’m not interested.”

Logan mumbled something under his breath that Bobby couldn’t quite catch, but had his suspicions it was something like ‘Give it time’. He decided to ignore it, and set about making the strongest coffee he could.

“Here,” he said, pushing a steaming mug into Logan’s hands. “Drink.”

Logan sipped at it, and then moaned.

“Oh, man, real coffee. I think I’m in heaven.”

“So you want to talk about today?” Bobby asked finally once he was sure that the strong coffee had returned some clarity to Logan’s eyes. The other detective frowned slightly, and Bobby had a sudden, almost insane feeling that Logan was going to ask ‘about what?’

“You remember the prison case?” Logan asked finally, his gaze fixed on the coffee mug. Bobby felt his breath try to catch in his throat.

“Yeah. What about it?”

He couldn’t help the defensive tone that found its way into his voice. It was instinctive, nothing more. If Logan noticed, though, he didn’t let it show. Instead, he went on in a sombre voice.

“When we were at the bar that night… You remember I told you that my dad used beat the crap outta me?”

Bobby answered with a nod, wondering where this was going.

“I lied,” Logan said, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. “It wasn’t my dad that beat me. He just stood back and watched… while he was still around, anyway. It was my mom. She’d send me out to get her daily dose, get pissed and then beat the shit out of me. And she used it. Barek knew, and she used it in the interrogation to get on side with the suspect. Never gave my any fucking warning… She just dropped the bombshell, then sat back and waited for me to explain it to the kid. Like I wanted to get all buddy-buddy with him, and share experiences…”

“Shit,” Bobby muttered, finally understanding Logan’s anger. “That was crossing the line.”

Logan looked up at Bobby, and the big detective wasn’t entirely surprised to see tears threatening in the other man’s eyes.

“You ever do that to Eames? Ever use her like that?”

Bobby grimaced. “Not exactly like that… But there was one time that I hung her out as bait for a suspect who had a thing for petite women. She had to sit in the interrogation room and let the bastard hit on her while the guy’s wife watched from the observation deck.”

“Bet she loved that.”

“I thought she was going to shoot me herself afterwards.”

“But you never pulled out any part of her private life and dangled it in front of a suspect.”

“Well… no. Her private life is… well…”

“Private?” Logan pressed, and Bobby nodded.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t.”

“But Barek did it to me today.”

“You’ve got to talk to her, Logan,” Bobby told him quietly as Logan went back to sipping coffee. “Let her know she stepped over the line. Don’t just sulk about it…”

Logan looked up at him sharply.

“Sulk? Sulk?” He launched himself to his feet, only to sway dangerously. Bobby rose up and caught hold of his arm to steady him, but Logan jerked angrily out of his grip.

“Fuck you, Goren, if that’s what you think I’m doing,” he snapped angrily.

“Sorry,” Bobby apologised, feeling like a royal idiot. “I didn’t mean it exactly like that.”

“What, exactly, did you think I was doing?”

“Sit,” Bobby grumbled, pushing Logan unceremoniously back down onto the sofa. He sank down beside him, not bothering to retreat back to his armchair. “I’m sorry, it was a bad choice of word. Look, I’m not used to this, okay?”

Logan was starting to look more amused than annoyed by then.

“Used to what? Giving comfort to a fellow detective?”

Bobby scowled at the taunting tone in Logan’s voice, and started to get back up.

“Fuck you, Logan.”

A moment later, Bobby grunted as Logan grabbed him by the belt and yanked him back onto the sofa.

“You’re a hypersensitive bastard, Goren. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“This, coming from the guy who’s sulking because his partner aired his emotional baggage in interrogation today…”

Bobby never saw it coming. One moment he was sitting beside Logan on the sofa, the next he was flat on his back on the floor, his jaw smarting from where Logan had punched him.

“You’re an asshole, Goren. Why the fuck did you bring me back here, anyway?”

Bobby sat up slowly, rubbing gingerly at his jaw.

“I’m starting to wonder.”

Anger clouded Logan’s face, and he wheeled around and headed for the door.

“Fine. I’m outta here.”

Grimacing, Bobby pulled himself awkwardly to his feet.

“Mike, wait.”

Logan froze, his hand on the door knob. Slowly, he looked back at Bobby, a suspicious look on his face.

“We’re onto first names now, Bobby?”

Bobby ignored the barb in Logan’s voice, and pointed to the sofa, even as he retreated back to his armchair.

“Just sit, will you?”

After a moment’s indecision, Logan gave in and sat down.

“I’m not going to lecture you about how to get along with your partners,” Bobby told him. “You’ve been a cop longer than I have. If you don’t know by now, nothing I say is going to help you. Besides, I’m hardly the one to be lecturing anyone on that subject. Eames is the first partner I’ve ever had who lasted more than eight months.”

Logan raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. He’d heard those rumours, and had decided not to entertain them in his own mind. However, if Bobby was willing to confess to it, then who was he to stop him?

“Eight months, huh? And how long have you and Eames worked together?”

“Around five and a half years now.”

Logan whistled softly, although it came out more air than whistle.

“Not bad.” He paused, then asked slowly, “She ever do it to you?”

Bobby stared at him, baffled.

“Sorry?”

“Eames. She ever use you in an interrogation like Barek did to me today?”

“Oh… Uh… Not exactly. There was one time, though. She was talking to a suspect, and she, um… She told her that her husband was just like me… that he just wanted to be left alone to do what he was good at. I wondered for a while after that if that was really how she saw me.”

“And is it?”

“Sometimes,” Bobby admitted. “But I do get like that. The point is, it did throw me, so I talked to her about it. I talk to her about pretty much everything. There, um… there’s something I probably should tell you. That night, when I walked out of the bar… after everything that happened in the prison, during lockdown…”

“You went to Eames.”

“Yeah.”

Logan smirked.

“Don’t look so surprised. I figured that’s where you’d probably end up. I was hoping you would, and sooner rather than later. After all, you sliced up your hand pretty good. I would’ve felt pretty lousy to hear you’d collapsed in a gutter somewhere and bled out. And after all the crap we’d gone through that day, too, that would have just been damned inconsiderate.”

Bobby had to chuckle softly, unable to help it.

“I just thought you might appreciate knowing that because you prodded at me that night, I was able to tell Eames something that I’d never been able to tell anyone before. You… You were right. I was beaten by both my parents. Mostly by my mom… A couple of times by my dad. It… It was pretty bad.”

Logan nodded. “Figured it was.”

“I never thanked you.”

“For what?”

“If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have told Eames then, either. I just would have buried it again.”

Logan was silent as he considered that.

“I should talk to Barek.”

“Yeah, you should,” Bobby agreed.

Logan sighed and settled back into the sofa.

“Tomorrow morning. Don’t think I can stand up again.”

Bobby couldn’t keep a smile off his face as he got slowly to his feet.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll find a blanket and pillow for you.”

“Ah, such hospitality,” Logan gushed as Bobby went to search for the items in question. As Bobby returned, Logan smirked up at him. “Did we just successfully complete the male bonding thing?”

Bobby’s grin widened.

“Not quite. We missed the whole chapter on stripping naked and howling at the moon together.”

“Oh. Well, maybe next time.”

Bobby chuckled again as he headed for his bedroom.

“And maybe not.”

Just as he closed his door, he could have sworn he heard Logan’s voice murmur from the sofa.

“Give it time.”

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