This is a challenge for someone to make this story. This thread I hope will be used for anyone else who wants to issue First Line, Last Line Challenges


First line: Bobby thought it would never end
Last line: "I love you."

Time: Post Puragotory
(That's all I'm going to put up there)

OK, I'll bite.


Bobby thought it would never end, this long day full of paperwork. He hated paperwork. He felt like he had been chained to his desk, condemed to watch the clock tick slowly like a kid waiting for the final bell of a very long school day. He had something to do. Something that was now very important to him. Something that could very well change his life forever.

He'd been meaning to say this to her for quite some time now, but the timing was never right. Wrong place, wrong time, tounge-tied; it just never seemed to be right. He decided he would just have to bite the bullet and confront her with it. He needed to say the words out loud, needed to hear himself say the words out loud, or it would never get any better for him.

He made the trip across town in record time. He climbed slowly out of his vehicle and made his way across the grounds to her, careful of where he placed his steps. He hadn't been here in such a long time, he realized. He also realized how he hated having to see her like this. To see her, but not really see her. To not be able to touch her. His heart ached for her as well. Ached like it had never ached for anyone before.

He missed her so much. It hit him hard in the gut just how much he missed her: their conversations, their arguments, their phone calls. He missed taking care of her, protecting her, seeing that everything worked out just right for her. He missed her.

There she was. He walked up to her; he placed his large hand on the cold stone bearing her name, knelt down and took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"Hello, Mom. I miss you. I love you."

Very nice. When I saw the last line, I was thinking someone would write something shippy or Bobby/other woman, which wouldn't bother me, but you did great. I love the way that was done.

Thanks! It really just came to me, and came very fast. I almost couldn't keep up with the words while I was typing, it came THAT fast and furious. I realized that Bobby didn't get to say "I love you" to his mom, she died in the middle of them arguing about something, and that NOT getting to say "I love you" to her was part of his problem. I knew ya'll would read this and think "Eames", but IF that's how he feels about her, he won't be able to deal with it until he deals with his feelings about his mom and her death.

I'm glad you like it. If only my longer fanfic would come together this easily!

Bobby thought it would never end, Eames silence was deafening. He couldn't stand it anymore. The pressure of the job was getting to be too much. The weekend was here and he was going out and having a good time. So he called Lewis to get the old gang together.

"Here's to the old days," said Lewis.

As they all held up their glasses and drank another toast in a long line of toast.

"Here's to old lady liberty," said John.

Again, they all held up their glass and drank again.

The whole night went on like this.

Finally it was last call, Lewis and Goren shared a cab home.

When the cab got to Goren's apartment, Lewis said his Goodnight.



Goren: Thanks man, I can always count on you when I am down, your my best friend, I love you.

Very good one.

Good one JRy. I liked it.

Lewis is cool, Bobby needs to go out with Lewis on the show -- that would be fun for the writers to put together, fun for the actors to do and fun for us to watch. Don't you think?

I would like it to say,

Bobby thought his night with Jryan would never end, but he didn't want it to end, as she left in the morning for work, he said, jryan I love you.

Yeah I miss lewis, they need to show him out with guy friends.

LMAO!!!! Or, it could say flashymom, or spook, or "(insert your name here)" and we'd all be happy. It would also currently be the shortest fan fic yet!

I really enjoyed this. Powerful and sad, and I definitely agree with your observation: until Bobby deals with his mother's death, there's no way he could deal with anything else. Really well done.

JRyan, you did a great job too. I miss Lewis.

Thanks, GD. You gonna give it a go?

Alright, I did one. It ended up being B/A, but it's so absurdly out of character, it could be Bobby/Anybody.


Price Check

Bobby thought it would never end. He loved Alex, really he did, and he would do anything for her. Anything at all.

But three hours shopping for a few new suits?

"This is ridiculous," he hissed to her over the door of the changing room stall, shifting her purse back and forth between his hands as passing women stared and giggled. He wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole.

"Come on, Bobby, I'm almost done. Don't be such a whiner," Alex huffed, then tossed something over the door at him. A black suit jacket landed on his head, one cuff dangling delicately across his nose. "Put that on the 'no' rack for me."

Bobby sputtered, so indignant he was rendered speechless. This whole thing is incredibly unfair, he thought darkly as he did her bidding and hung up the rejected garment, having some difficulty as he tried to juggle her purse as well. He'd been very understanding about this whole ordeal, at first actually somehow pleasantly amused by this proof that Alex-- despite her tough, gruff, take-no-prisoners demeanor-- could be such a girl. But three whole hours? I didn't know they actually made that many suits, he mused, still fumbling with the jacket and the purse. Finally, surrendering the last vestiges of his masculinity, he slung it over his shoulder, tossed the jacket haphazardly over the rack, and heaved a sigh.

Two aisles down, in the "Miss" department, he heard the distinct sound of tittering.

"Alex, for God's sake, it's a suit. It can't be that hard."

"Don't 'it's just a suit' me, Mr. Armani. Besides--" a rustle of fabric, "--it's your fault I have to go through all this trouble anyway."

"What?"

The sound of a zipper being raised. "If you didn't dress so damn well every single day, I wouldn't have to spend all this time trying to keep up." He was caught between preening at her compliment and further indignant sputtering, but was saved from having to choose when she finally (Oh thank God) opened the stall door and stepped out in a trim black pantsuit. "So?" She cocked an eyebrow and her hips. "What do you think?"

It looks exactly like every other freaking one you've tried on. "Perfect! This is the one. Definitely." Her eyes narrowed at his sudden, cheesy enthusiasm. Busted.

"If I'd wanted lip-service, Goren, I'd have paid for it."

Caught, Bobby searched hopelessly for a response, and finally landed on the one thing that was both true and safe: "I think you look beautiful."

She smiled, obviously pleased, and Bobby thought maybe he even saw faint pink on her cheeks. "Thanks, Bobby." An ominous beat. "Even if that still has nothing to do with this suit."

"But--!"

"You can't even tell them apart anymore, can you?"

"Uhm."

She sighed, but didn't seem too annoyed. "Figures. You can identify different dialects from thirty different languages, but when it comes to my wardrobe..." He opened his mouth to protest, but she rolled her eyes and waved him off, fondly. "Forget it, Goren. I'll take this one, and we'll get out of here and head for a nice restaurant, okay? Someplace Italian. Your favorite."

His mouth started watering, and he was thoroughly distracted by the promise of thick tomatoe sauce and perfectly seasoned breadsticks as she disappeared into the stall again, reappearing a mere moment later, suit in hand. She took the purse off his shoulder, grabbed his hand in hers, and they headed up to the front desk. "Now just get out your card, and we'll pay for this and be out of here."

His pasta-filled brain put on the brakes. "Wha-- my card? Eames! But--"

She looked back at him innocently, but he could see the smirk in her eyes. "What Bobby? We all have our weakness. You can't tell the difference between suits, and I can't tell the difference between credit cards. So, really, what's the difference at all?"

About two hundred dollars, thank you.

But he'd been had and they both knew it, so instead, what he said was, "Nothing, Alex," and got out his card.

She flashed a grin at him, leaned up, and kissed his cheek, whispering something in his ear before snatching the plastic out of his hand and sauntering off to the checkout.

Trailing behind her, Bobby suddenly found himself poor, tired, and very hungry. But really, after what she'd whispered to him, he just didn't seem to mind so much. It didn't really matter what (embarrassing, ridiculous) things he had to go through, so long as he got to keep hearing Alex say 'I love you'.

Aww... this is so sweet! I could see Bobby and Alex, if they were in a relationship, having banter like this. Alex just seems like that kind of sassy lady.

I liked this Gravedigger. Very nice and I could definitely see this happening if they were together. Me and my partially shippy mind.

Flashymom:
This is so touching, I love it. I love how it's not completely obvious who he's talking about until the end. Way to go!

JRyan: Nice to see Lewis again, and for Bobby acting like a guy and dealing with stress by going out to the bar with his buds.

Tryin' it...

****

Bobby thought it would never end... in and out, in, out, in, out... he was starting to feel sea sick. He switched his focus back onto the white numbers in the bottom corner, trying desperately to ignore the rather... enthusiastic gymanastics being exhibited by Roy and Trina in some seedy hotel room...

Surely they've got to stop some time soon... don't his knees hurt? And what about her back? oh please let it stop...

Eames was still punishing him for not telling her about his undercover mission, obviously, to make him watch this tape to make sure that there weren't any blips that his "genius eyes" could catch that would prove Trina was lying. Briefly he entertained the thought that Eames had called Trina and asked specifically about any "home videos" that she might have made with Roy on the date in question... Except Eames wouldn't have corrupted the case like that, because she was a good cop. The best cop.

He must be taking VBoost, he's not exactly young any more.... oh god they're changing positions again... is that a mole on his penis? He should get that looked at... looks cancerous...

"You spot anything," Eames grumbles behind him, and he turns to look at her, his eyes grateful for something else to look at.

"Nothing so far... looks to be exactly what it seems..."

"Alright, we have another lead, Riche can take over for you," She shrugs, turning and heading out leaving him to follow behind her.

YES!!!!

Under his breath, because he's pretty sure Eames heard what he said he'd never live it down (although she might forgive him a bit sooner): "Eames, I love you."

Hahahahahahah, this is the BEST. I absolutely adore it. Bobby's internal dialogue is MADE OF WIN. Although, when she asked if he'd spotted anything, I definitely thought he was going to tell her about the mole, hahaha.

Great stuff!

These are all so good! This is quite the fun thread. Loved the price check -- that's me and hubby! Can you just picture VDO with his wife's purse in the department store? Hilarious!

Watching the sex video -- only Goren would notice a mole on a man's penis and think of cancer! SO Bobby Goren, it's golden!

Quaxo -- thanks for the compliment. It was really quite easy to write, and fun to keep it structured so that the reader was guessing right up until the end. Thanks!

Quaxo - very nice. Loved that. Very funny.

Ditto, classic Goren spotting the mole he would be the only guy man enough to look at it. lol.

Ok here's my go of it.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
One night

Bobby thought it would never end. Day after day, night after night, at work, at home, no matter where he went, or what he did it was always there. Boredom. He never thought that the job would ever get boring to him, but at least for now, it seemed like it had all become so… same. No new challenges to face, no unique criminal mind to unravel, just run of the mill perps doing run of the mill crimes.

At home it was more boredom. He had read everything on his bookshelves, in some cases several times, and now they all looked alike. He didn’t go out very much, but when he did he felt like he was looking at a sea of faces which he didn’t recognize, but all blurred into one face over and over again, repeating to infinity. He had always had a decent imagination he thought, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to come up with a way to shake this ennui.

As he sat at home staring at walls yet again, he decided that his situation had finally reached a critical point, and that more drastic measures needed to be taken to remedy it. He quickly got dressed in his old jeans, a black t-shirt, and a pair of boots hiding in the back of his closet. On his search through the closet he found an old leather coat as well, pulling it on as he went out the door.

Bobby stood on the sidewalk in front of his building and wondered where he was going next. On a whim he decided to walk down to the subway and take the first train that came in, just to see where it would take him. He had been all over the city before, but as he boarded the train, he realized that he probably hadn’t come close to seeing all of it. This would be an adventure in exploration.

A couple of hours a few train changes later, Bobby got off the subway at the 1^st Ave station, then turned down 14^th St. As he got closer to the corner of 14^th and Avenue B, he noticed a group of people walking by, all dressed rather strangely. They wore mostly all black, and though they looked somewhat like goth people, their outfits looked a bit too nice for a typical example of the subculture.

A few more were passing by as he reached the corner, and one girl, preoccupied with rummaging in her bag for something, had fallen behind her friends. Since she wasn’t looking where she was going, she stumbled on the cracked pavement, nearly falling to the ground if Bobby hadn’t been there to catch her.

“Are you… OK,” he asked?

“Damn it. Yeah I’m fine,” she said, putting her hand to her tiny hat as she stood up again. “I’m really sorry…” she trailed off as she looked up at her ‘rescuer’.

“Did you lose something?”

“Huh?” She shook her head. “Oh, no, I’m sure I didn’t lose it, I just didn’t put it in my bag tonight. It’s not a big deal, just annoying.”

“That’s good. Well, not good you don’t have it… but good you didn’t lose it.”

She laughed lightly. “I understand. Thanks for keeping from twisting up my ankle too. No fun sitting around while everyone else is dancing.”

“No problem. If you don’t mind me asking, where are you headed to? I mean, you look like you might be goth, but you seem a little more… Victorian.”

“Oh! There’s a club down the street that has a gothic night every week. I’m not typical and neither are a bunch of my friends. We’re into the more romantic style, and I picked up on Elegant Gothic Lolita/Aristocrat from Japan, and then there’s a little bit of Steampunk thrown in on the side… Oh goddess! Listen to me ramble on. I’m sorry.”

Bobby chuckled slightly, “No it’s OK. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t interested in the answer. It sounds very different from what I’ve heard about the… genre.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he looked down at the ground from beneath his long lashes. “Umm… I wonder… No nevermind.”

“What?” she asked, as she cocked her head to one side and dipping her shoulder, trying to catch his eyes with her own again.

“Well, if it’s not too much trouble, and I know I just met you randomly on the street, but… would it be OK if I tagged along? I’m kind of trying to get myself out of a… rut I’ve been in and so I just took off and randomly rode the subway seeing where I would end up.”

“Oh! Like an adventure!”

“Uh, something like that I guess. Questing to snap out of the boredom I’ve been stuck in.”

“I can totally respect that. You’re trying to broaden your horizons, seek new challenges and experiences, gain a new perspective, right?”

Bobby looked at the girl again, this time taking her in as a new person instead of another copy of the sea of faces. She was pretty, long red hair, shining green eyes made all the more dramatic by the dark green shadow she wore and her milk pale skin. “Yeah. That’s about right.”

“Well then good sir, I shall allow you to escort me down the way to establishment of entertainment forthwith,” she replied. “By the way, my name is Lilly.”

“I would be honored to escort you, my lady Lilly. A perfect name for such a captivating blossom such as yourself,” Bobby said as he bowed and brushed the back of her hand with his lips. “My name is Robert, but everyone calls me Bobby.”

“Well then Bobby, shall we be off for a long night of revelry, drink, dance, and unwholesome fun? Perhaps so long as to see the sun rise again to tour the skies of day once more?”

“As you wish my lady. Tis your world and I am a stranger in it. I defer to your guidance, and hope that it will lead to an enchanted evening such as I have never had before.”

She laughed as she wound her arm through his offered elbow as they made their way down the street to the club. Soon she was introducing him to her various friends and acquaintances, who he was surprised to realize seemed for the most part to accept him as he was. Lilly in turn was startled to discover that Bobby was an excellent dancer, even to the (to him) exotic strains of Dead Can Dance, Abney Park, Razed In Black, The Cure, and VNV Nation. They had several rounds with so many people he lost track of them all. After last call a large group adjourned to the “lounge” of an all night café on the next block. Bobby’s next surprise of the evening was that the topics of conversation ranged from the expected of music, new films, and pop culture, to philosophy, religion, science, technology, and ethics.

It was after five AM when the group finally broke up for the night. Bobby and Lilly were left sitting together, and Bobby thought that he should be heading home as well. He was just about to say so when Lilly spoke first.

“Why don’t you come to my house?”

He nearly choked on the last of his coffee. “What??”

“You should come to my house. We’ve spent all night hanging out, so I’m pretty sure you’re not some kind of freak or anything.”

“Umm… I don’t know… Aren’t you tired?”

“No, not really. I probably shouldn’t have had all that tea. It’ll be fun Bobby! We can go up on the roof and watch the sunrise. If you get tired and don’t want to go all the way home you can crash on the pull out.”

“Oh!” he said, as he realized what she was suggesting. “Oh sure… Ok. Yeah that sounds good.”

“Oh no,” she replied. “Did you think I was asking you… Oh dear, I’m sorry. It’s not that… I mean, you’re a good looking guy and really cool, but I’d want to go out with you a bit more before… I mean not that this was a date… Crap. I really can’t get this right.”

Bobby smiled gently at her. “It’s OK. I understand what you mean.”

The look of relief on Lilly’s face was plain. “Thanks. I’ve really enjoyed hanging out with you tonight, and I always like making new friends. I didn’t want to drive you away. That’s harder than you think for me sometimes…”

“I really understand that. Is your place far?”

“No, just a few blocks. I tried to get into a loft in NoHo, but they said that they wouldn’t certify me as an artist. Luckily I found a place nearby that wasn’t too expensive, for NYC that is.”

“Well let’s go then,” he said as he once again offered her his arm.

“You are such a wonderful gentleman, you know that? A practically extinct breed.”

He smiled bashfully as they walked on.

Lilly’s loft was open and breezy, quite contrary to his expectation of black painted walls and heavily curtained windows. The kitchen was small, and there was only a partition wall to define the bedroom, but the rest of the loft was quite large, oddly enough including the bathroom.

“I rebuilt the bathroom after I moved in here,” Lilly said. “It was about the size of a closet before, and I couldn’t stand it. It needed major work done on it anyway, so the landlord and I made a deal. I could redesign it any way I wanted, as long as I didn’t ask for any more money than what had been budgeted for the repair work. So all I can say is, that it’s nice to know people in all different trades that will work on barter as well as cash.”

“That was very… unusual thinking… for a landlord.”

“Well, basically, he didn’t want to deal with the hassle of getting a contractor, a plumber, etc. SO, I take care of it for him, he gives me the budget money, and I get the perfect bath. Which I’m going to jump into real fast. We’ve got a little time until the show starts and afterwards I’m sure I’ll be ready to sleep. I hate sleeping with makeup on and stuff in my hair. Make yourself comfy!”

He just sat down on the couch when she called his name from the other room. He jumped up to make sure her ankle hadn’t given out once she took her boots off and it was no longer braced by the stiff leather.

“Are you alright? Is it your ankle?”

“No. It’s my damn corset. Somehow I pulled the wrong lace and now it’s all in a knot. Can you help me please?”

He turned the corner to find her standing in front of her bed in her corset and … bloomers? She was really wearing knee length bloomers underneath her skirts and petticoats. He looked to where she was fumbling with the cords and saw a large snarled knot there.

“You really did a number on this. What would you have done if I wasn’t here to help you?”

“Spend half an hour figuring it out by feel.”

“Hold your hair up please. I think I can have you out of this pretty quick.”

Lilly giggled and tried to hold in the comment that instantly sprang to her mind. Unsuccessfully. “I think you could have any girl out of her corset pretty quick Bobby.”

He laughed. “Well considering I thought you were an amazing dancer while wearing one, I’d love to see how you move with it off.”

“Oh Bobby! You’re so bad!” Lilly giggled, as she turned and swatted his arm. “Thanks for getting it untangled. I’m really in the mood for that shower now.”

“No problem,” he smiled. “I’ll just get comfy on your couch again.”

Fifteen minutes later, Lilly came out of her room wearing jeans and a t-shirt, combing her wet hair. Bobby had gotten restless just sitting down so he decided to make breakfast for their sunrise viewing. She was surprised at his gesture, and told him how awesome it was. She found a plastic tote that was clean and empty for them to put the food and drinks into for the short climb to the roof, and then a couple of blankets were found for sitting on. Bobby was ever the gentleman and offered to carry everything. Lilly insisted however that she would help and carried the blankets.

She looked so different since she had bathed and changed clothes. She looked so, not normal, but... natural. Her eyes still shone the same bright green but they had a subtly different quality to them. Maybe he was just tired from being up all night. He suddenly realized that this was the first time in a very long time that he had stayed up all night, and would be watching the sunrise solely by his own choice. It wasn’t about work or bad dreams, but because he was having a really good time, with fun people.

They talked some more as they waited for the sky to begin lightening, rambling all over their shared love of books, her art, his love of art, his job, her dreams. They ate the lovely breakfast Bobby had made, drinking juice instead of more caffeine. They wondered what the new day would bring to the little world they had made for a night. All too soon the sky began to shift, from darkness to purple.

“This was a really great night Bobby.”

“For me too.”

From purple to ruddy orange.

“It seems like I have lots of friends, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

From orange to yellow.

“Really, I’m pretty much always alone. Where it counts.”

“I understand that.”

From yellow to gold.

“Would you like me to stay, Lilly? As your friend?”

She nodded mutely as her eyes filled with tears and the sun came up.

They went downstairs shortly after that. She had an old pair of sweats from a friend that she loaned to Bobby for pajamas, and she changed into her own. They both crawled into her soft bed and pulled up the covers. As they drifted off to sleep, she felt Bobby put his arm over her and she nestled her back closer against his chest. He felt warm and safe. Lilly was soft and comforting in his arms, the human contact he had so needed but never realized. Bobby thought of how his trip had started out as something to do to try and get over his boredom, and how he had ended up so far from where he had started. How he had managed to find not only a cure for his boredom, but for some of his loneliness as well. As they slept peacefully, for the first time in months, they dreamed of each other. They only said one thing, but it was just what they needed.

With perfect understanding they said, “I love you.”

good job Janx!

Wow! That was really good, Janx! Thanks for sharing it.

Thank you for reading. I expected two pages and got 5...

If it's not too presumtuous of me, I'd like to suggest the next set.

First line: It had to be the hottest day of the year.
Last line: All in all though, things turned out pretty well.

Looking forward to see what comes up!

All of you have done fantastic jobs! I was thinking of giving it a try tonight when I get home, but didn't think I could come up with anything as original and creative as what has already been posted. But now, with a new set of lines, I think I wll try it tonight.

Hey I had to create a new acount out of techinal difficulties sorry. Does anybody mind if I save this stuff to my jumpdrive so I can read it later? Well it is awsome!! I like them all!! I never knew this thread would be so poplular!! Thank you so much!! (Now I'm giggling!!) And don't worry I'm not going to edit anything, because I did not write it and I am not the one writing. Good challenge Janx!!

A new set of lines, huh? Well, since you thought them up, you should go first!

Let me mull it over and see if anything comes to me. Hot days tend to bring out the craziness in everyone......maybe...oops! Better keep my ideas to meself whilst I come up with something to write............::thinketh, thinketh, thinketh::....

Okay, here goes...




Bobby thought it would never end. Not that it hurt all that much. Well, yeah, actually it did. Even though his friend, Dr. Stan Burns, was a wizard at suturing -- a fact that Bobby had learned firsthand over the past several years -- every pass of the needle through the tender, swollen flesh of his left eyebrow burned like lava. Worse, though, much worse was the searing sense of humiliation and self-ridicule that burned his soul like a firebrand each time he replayed in his head the unfortunate error that had brought him to Stan's home office at 2am on a steamy July Friday night with his head split open.

Well, two errors, really. The first had been the fifth of Glenlivet that he had consumed at the bar. Nothing that smooth should be sold legally, he thought blurrily. 'Course, with that amount of organic anaesthetic in him, this little bit of stitching shouldn't have hurt like this. Instead, the liquor seemed to have fired up every nerve ending in his head.

"Ughh". He grunted.

"I know it's none of my business, but we both know that's never stopped me before, so satisfy an old man's curiousity and tell me how this happened. And don't say 'on the job -- can't talk about it, because I could smell you from the doorway and I know drinking on the job isn't one of your vices."

"Ughh, I - I really don't want to talk about it, Stan. It's - it was -- silly"

Stan's heavy eyebrows crept upwards like two caterpillars trying to escape his face.

"And -- so --"

Bobby's sigh pushed the next slow words to his lips.

"I dropped in at McGuinness's after work. Didn't plan on spending the evening, but, well, it just went that way. It was comfortable - just, just NICE, anyway. Randy, the bartender kept 'em coming, and really, I didn't feel, you know, IMPAIRED, or anything."

Stan nodded, finished now with the stitching, swabbing Bobby's eye with some kind of antiseptic.

"And --"

"And then this guy stepped up to the bar next to me. I was, you know, I was feeling good, and I said 'Hi'. And he just looked at me for a sec, like he didn't understand, but then he said "Hello" and I heard his accent, which was German.
And you know, I speak German -- learned it in the military, although it's been a long time since I've really spoken it."

Stan had finished his ministrations and now stood leaning against the counter of his small office, nodding, encouraging Bobby to continue, as his friend had suddenly fallen silent and seemed to be minutely examining a spot on the floor.

"And --" Stan again prompted.

"So the guy orders a drink, and I'm looking at him, thinking 'I know this guy' -- not just seen him somewhere, but I've met him -- though I can't just at that moment recall where or when." So, I try to remember, and I'm looking at him hard, staring I guess, and he looks over at me, about to say something I think, because -- because I was staring.
So I wanted to tell him, y'know, that we'd met somewhere, but my brain wouldn't work to translate something that long, so I just said, "I know you", only in German. And the next thing I know, I'm on my ass, looking at the ceiling, with my face leaking".

"Well, that reaction seems a little extreme, even for New York."

"Yeah" - Well, it might have been."

Bobby fell suddenly silent again. His head was throbbing as if a disco had opened for business in his skull. Once more, the events of the evening unreeled their endless loop in his head.

"So this guy punched out a cop -- not just a cop but a Major Case detective -- I'm assuming his ass is in jail as we speak."

"Unnh, no. No, I didn't arrest him. He wasn't arrested at all."

Bobby stared at his shoes. They were usually polished, but now they were scuffed. Actually, he thought, as he peered owlishly at his feet, there was a little tear in the leather near the toe of his left shoe. Jesus, they were only three weeks old.

Whether it was this last, ignominious blow to his ego, or the Glenlivet bestowing its benificence at last, Bobby's battered spirit suddenly felt feather-light. Whatever it had been, it hadn't been just his average Friday night.
Bobby had almost forgotten Stan, still leaning against the counter, but now looking at Bobby closely. When Bobby raised his eyes to Stan's, there was the slightest twinkle of wry amusement there, as familiar to the doctor as Bobby's face.

"See, I told you my German was a little rusty. Just how rusty was what I found out about a second too late. Remember, I told you I had been staring at the guy, really hard, I guess, all liquored up like I was, and then I said --
THOUGHT I said " I know you".

"I hear a big 'but' coming", Stan said.

" But what I really said, in my perfect German accent was: "I love you".

Beautiful, poignant, Perfect!

Thanks! I really enjoyed yours, too. Very funny, and totally believeable.....

CIObsessed,

This First Line..." thing was an inspired idea. I know JanXAngel has already suggested a new set, but I'm going to throw two out there to test a theory. I think the stranger the lines given, the stranger the stories will be. As you can probably tell by now, I like strange. So here goes, and I really hope someone will be challenged and intrigued.

First line: It's not every day you find a body in the trunk of your car.

Last line: It was found beside the railroad tracks.

#1 Thank you
#2 Reminds me a bit of blind spot
#3 I am

I just found this thread and I love it! You guys all came up with such great, unique little stories. Bravo!!!!


I tried to come up with something charming or funny, but it came out like this. Sometimes Bobby's mind is a dark place for me to hang out in.


Leftover

Bobby thought it would never end, but it did. Of course it did, everything did. Six long months of emptiness he'd pretended wasn't fear. Over. So why was he back here at the end of this bar, his forth scotch sweating on the cocktail napkin in front of him? He told himself he was celebrating, but wasn’t able to summon up enough denial to buy it. Absently, he drew a complicated pattern in the condensation on his glass .

“I hope it was worth it.” Her words, flung at him in accusation, echoed in his head. The risk to his life? Yeah, it was worth it. Even the damned rat in his drawer had been worth it. I did it. I did what I do best, I caught the bad guy. I earned my shield back. No one was going to do it for me so I did what I had to do. He took a long, righteous swallow. The amber liquid was floating down his throat now, the burn of the first few sips long past.

“I hope it was worth it.” He’d thought it was worth it. He’d risked everything to get his shield back, so sure that if he survived the undercover assignment, he’d have his life back. He’d been in purgatory and the only way out had been a deal with the devil and he’d made it. Could he really say that he hadn’t realized what it would mean to the only important person he had left in his life?

“I hope it was worth it.” Hell no, it wasn’t worth it, but when did that ever matter anymore? Life had had ceased to consist of right choices and wrong choices, good or bad, worth it or not. Whatever choices he made led to the same spot. He could’ve slowly drunk his sanity away, cut off from the only thing he was good at, his only chance to do something in this world. Or he could betray the one single person in his whole damned life who’d had always had his back, who’d never flinched from giving it to him straight and then standing by him, right or wrong. The one person who…

Instead of finishing that thought, he drained the last of his scotch, the half melted cubes sliding into his moustache. He swiped the droplets away with the back on his hand and gestured with his glass to Mick. The portly bartender snagged the Glenlivet on his unhurried way down to Bobby’s perch. Without asking, he dumped the soggy mess and replaced the napkin, refilling the glass with fresh ice and the kind of pour only a good tipping regular merits.

As the familiar ritual played out, Bobby reached for the peanut bowl and dragged it toward him. Eyebrows creeping up, he tilted the bowl to get a better look. He looked up, the question on his face prompting a shrug from Mick. “Owner forgot to pick up peanuts this morning. Those are left over from Valentine’s Day. What can ya do?” With another shrug he shuffled off back down the bar.

Bobby held up one of the pastel candies in front of his face. The tiny writing was a challenge to read at this point, but he managed it and snorted. Setting it down on the bar in front of him, he reached for his drink with the determination of a man no longer satisfied with being mostly drunk. Though he didn’t look at it again, it sat there through the next drink and the next, mocking him with its little pink words.

“I Love You”

Nice. Dark, but nice. Love the M&M at the end!

Ya I know. See what lack of chocolate cake can do to a gal? It wasn't an M&M though. It was one of those little chalky heart candies that have all the sayings on 'em like "Be Mine" or "I Love You".

Some of it I like, the progression of the thoughts and the kind of thinking that spirals down when getting really drunk alone in a bar. I think I just need to rewrite the ending so that it ends on a little hope.

NO!!!!!!! The ending is perfect! It's exactly how Bobby still is right now. Please don't change it, ok?

Yes ma'am.

Actually I think Bobby is better now, but I thought this fit for the night after the last scene of Purgatory pretty well. The part he wasn't remembering while he was drinking himself stupid is that he was right in the beginning. Everything ends. Including the crappy times.

I'm reviving this thread after a long absence. For ease of reading, and because this turned out a lot longer then I anticipated, I'm going to post it in three segments. I hope you enjoy.

Unfaithful
by AmandaB

A/N: Thanks to shooter for suggesting the first and last lines.

Part 1

It's not every day you find a body in the trunk of your car. Of course, Elizabeth Rodgers knew about death. Dealing with corpses was something she was comfortable with. She had once told Captain Deakins that she didn't like the sight of blood, and that's why she had become a medical examiner. Bodies had their own stories to tell, though not everyone took the time to listen. Detective Goren did, but he often irritated her by getting in her space.

Taking a deep breath, Rodgers pulled on a spare set of gloves out of her lab coat, and focused on the job at hand. In the dark of the parkade, it was difficult to see much. Rodgers ran her hand gently up what felt like a back, and felt for rough marks around the neck. Strangled, then, she reasoned. Knowing she should leave the body as she found it, she closed the trunk then stripped off her gloves. It appeared that her day was not over just yet.

Rodgers stepped out onto the eleventh floor a few minutes later. Everyone had left for the evening, except for a few people there for the night shift. Detective Goren was still sitting there in his desk, looking intently at paperwork. Rodgers wondered how many times he just didn't bother to go home. She walked over to his desk and cleared his throat. He looked up in surprise.

"Rodgers. Is there something I can do for you?"

"I hate to bother you Detective, but I could use your help. I went to put my jacket in my trunk, and instead I found a body. From what I could tell, it looks like he was strangled."

"Really? Where's your car?"

"It's in the parkade."

"I see. I'll call Eames and see if she can help us."

"She won't be happy being woken up this late. Or should I say this early."

"Then you can go buy her coffee." Goren stated as he got up and they walked to the elevator. "Eames likes it with lots of sugar, no cream."

After she had left Goren at her car, Rodgers walked a couple of blocks to the convenience store. The coffee was far from stellar, but it was the only choice at 2 AM on a Wednesday night. Quickly buying something for herself and Goren as well, Rodgers quickly grabbed a stretcher in the basement, then walked back to her car. A couple of CSU techs were busily taking photos, and Eames nodded in thanks as Rodgers handed her the beverage.

Goren walked over.

"Well, you were right about the strangling." He took a drink from the cup Rodgers gave him, grimacing slightly.

"Wrong flavor?"

"No, just a little hot. Anyway, I have a few questions for you. First, when did you last use this car?"

"I drove it into work this morning, and there wasn't anything in the trunk then. A body is rather hard to miss. I didn't check the car again until right before I talked to you."

"Where were you last night?"

"I left work at 7, for a movie with a friend at 8. That ended about 10:30, then I went home."

"Can anyone confirm that?" Eames wanted to know.

"Captain Ross can. " she stated quietly. "Now, if the photo show is over, why don't we move this man over to my morgue."

Goren was looking at her in surprise, while Eames had a slight smile on her face.

"Well?" Rodgers demanded. She snapped on gloves that Eames handed her.

"Of course." one of the CSU techs muttered. Handing his camera to Goren, he and Rodgers picked up the man while Eames steadied the stretcher.

"Well, if that's all, Detectives, I have an autopsy to perform. You know where to find me." Rodgers stated, and quickly left.


"Captain, can we talk to you in your office?" Ross turned to see Eames. Goren was standing beside her, shifting his weight nervously. Usually, the Captain was the one to ask that of his detectives, but he just nodded. After Goren told him, Ross shook his head in confusion.

"But why leave a body there? Was it a sign?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Captain." Eames affirmed.

A knock interrupted his reply. A pale Rodgers entered the room.

"I finished the autopsy, Detective." She handed a folder to Goren, who sat down to look. Rodgers looked out the window for a moment. "There's something else." She swallowed. "That man's my ex husband, John Hughes. He remarried someone named Hannah."

"So you haven't seen John since then." Ross clarified.

"No. I haven't seen him in almost twenty years. He never paid me alimony."

"So your split was amicable?" Eames pressed.

"I think that's a contradiction. We were both glad to never see the other again."

"So you can't think of anyone that would want him dead?"

"Not at all. We got in some really heated arguments. But people aren't killed just because they are passionate."

"Rodgers." Goren spoke up. "You say you think the body was moved because of there was no signs of a struggle on his hands or anywhere near the car. Do you think he was killed anywhere else?"

"It's a possibility. I found some gravel in his boots, though I don't know if that can help you."

"It's a start. Thank you." Rodgers quickly left.

"There's just one more thing, Captain." Eames stated. "Were you with Rodgers on Tuesday night?"

"Yes, we went to a movie. Some romantic comedy." He looked between the two detectives. "You two can investigate this, but keep it low key. Contact the wife and see what she knows. I want this solved." The two nodded, and Ross sat down slowly.

He didn't know why it bothered him that Rodgers hadn't mentioned John. Ross rarely talked about Nancy, his ex wife. But he and Elizabeth were friends. So he was uncertain why she hadn't mentioned it before.

Part 2

"So, Hannah isn't it? Take a seat." offered Goren. He and Eames sat opposite the woman.

"What can you tell me about Tuesday?" Eames began.

"Well, me and John spent the morning at Ellis Island, had lunch, then we went over to the Statue of Liberty. We had dinner in the hotel restaurant, and then we went to our room about 7 PM. I-I slept in, then I heard the news when I turned on the TV this morning." Hannah looked away.

"Is there any one else that you can contact?"

"Both sets of grandparents died before I was born, and my mom was an only child."

"What about your dad or John's family?"

Hannah shook her head. "I don't think John's family has anything to do with this. As far as my dad is concerned, he's only a name on my birth certificate." She crossed her arms. "He made his decision to leave before I was born and not to get involved in my life, and who am I to argue? After all, I was a mistake." Then she looked down.

"Who told you that? Did your mom ever say that?"

"No, not at all. But after she told me about dad, when I was 18, I knew that my birth was unexpected. A one night stand gone wrong."

"So you didn't get along?"

"I didn't say that, Detective Goren. Listen, my mom wasn't a saint, but she was a good person. She did her best to raise me by herself." Hannah bit her lip.

"So you can't think of anyone that would want to hurt your husband?"

"No."

"Thank you. The officer will show you out." Hannah nodded, then quickly left the room.

"John didn't have enough money to really make robbery an incentive. He was living from paycheck to paycheck. Hannah wasn't exactly making a lot of money either." Goren responded.

"So money probably wasn't a factor. Do you know how well she and John got along?"

The two shared a look.

"She failed to mention that. Do we have phone records yet?"

Goren pulled out a sheet, and the partners looked at it.

"There seem to be a lot of calls to this number. I wonder who it belongs to." Eames replied, and quickly dialed.

Hanging up, she turned to Goren. "It's a Nathan Whitman." Goren quickly looked up the address, and the two were off.

"Mr Whitman, it's the police. We need to talk to you." Goren called after he had rang the doorbell twice. Eames was distracted by a flash of green just as the door opened and Goren stepped inside. Turning around, she saw a car door open and close.

"You go on, Goren. Excuse me." Leaving her partner, Eames walked quickly down the sidewalk. She glanced in each car as she walked by. Knocking on the window, she opened the door.

"Hello, Hannah. Fancy seeing you here. How do you know Mr Whitman?"

Hannah sat up, and turned to Eames.

"Get in."

Eames did so, patiently waiting.

"I don't know if your medical examiner told you anything about John. Probably not, since she probably thinks she's better off without him. It was rather low of him to leave her for me. You're surprised, Detective? Yes, John made sure that everyone thought our marriage was rock solid, but the truth was that he couldn't keep his pants on."

"So you thought you'd retaliate, have an affair of your own?"

Hannah smirked. "Is that what you think me and Nathan are? No, John could care less what I did with my free time, as long as I was as discrete as he was. But my father is on the city council, and so John liked having access through me to all those powerful and influential people. That's the reason he remained married to me. As for me and Nathan, it's just sex. Just because Nathan happens to be a wonderful lover doesn't mean I love him."

"I find it hard to believe that you're able to do that, separate the physical from the emotional."

Before she could reply, Goren knocked on the window. Eames rolled it down.

"Eames, are you done? Oh, hello, Hannah." Goren replied.

"Yes, let's go. Thanks for being so forthcoming." Eames replied. She meant to be ironic, as she was sure that Hannah had been trying to sneak out the back door to avoid questioning. Hannah merely nodded.

"So what did Mr Whitman have to say?"

"Not much. He admitted that he was having an affair with Hannah, but he denied that he would have killed John in order to have it more long term."

"Yes, for lovers the two of them seem not to be that possessive. But Hannah did say that John had some other women on the side, though he apparently was discrete."

"Not discrete enough if Hannah noticed. She strikes me as quite observant. Did she give you any names?"

"No."

"Detectives, there's someone here to see you. She said she knew John." Ross pointed out out an attractive woman sitting inside the visiting officers room. Goren thought she looked a little lost.

Part 3

"Miss? I'm Detective Goren and this is my partner Detective Eames. What was your relationship with John?"

"Nice to meet you, Detectives. I'm Edith Whitman."

"Any relation to Nathan Whitman?"

"He's my brother." At their surprised look, she continued, "We don't talk much. I haven't spoken to him in years." She looked away.

"Did well did you know John?"

"Quite well. Or at least I thought I did."

Goren looked closely at him. "He broke it off then?"

She grimaced. "No, I left him a month ago. When I found out there was someone else. Rebecca."
"From what we've seen, he seems to like women."

"That's an understatement, Detective. When we were seeing each other, he couldn't sleep by himself for more then a couple of nights. Every time we saw each other, he had sex on the brain." She blushed slightly, not revealing anything more.

"So did you get tired of it? Having John just think of you as another warm body?" Goren pressed.

"What do you think, Detective? Yes, I did. I mean, a relationship should be about more then the physical. I wanted to be liked for who I was, not just how good I was in bed."

"But there was more, wasn't there?" Eames questioned.

"What do you mean?"

"That wasn't the reason you really came in here, was it? Where were you on Tuesday night?"

"I was home alone."

"Can anyone verify that?"

She sighed. "I don't think my cat is going to be a good witness."

"No. Where were you, Edith?"

"Rebecca called me. He'd dumped her, for someone called Samantha. We went out for coffee, and I tried to console her. You know, tell her there were plenty of other men out there? I left Starbucks about 8 PM, and walked around for a while. Well, I was walking through Central Park when I saw John with Hannah. So I followed them to their hotel. It wasn't hard to discover they had separate rooms. I knocked, and he let me in. We got in a fight, because he thought I wanted to get back together with him. That was laughable, and he got offended. He asked me why I'd come, so I told him to provide New York with an invaluable service. Then I strangled him."

At Goren's raised eyebrow, she continued. "You probably think that was too easy. But I'm not exactly a hardened criminal. I haven't been able to sleep since then..."

"If we had details, we might be able to believe you." Eames replied.

"All right. After John was dead, I wrapped him in a sheet, then put him in a laundry basket. I used the service elevator, and it was easy to get outside the hotel, right by the garbage bins. I put him in the car, then drove here. Elizabeth's car was just sitting there, and so I dumped John in there, then drove away."

"No one saw you?" Goren asked in disbelief.

"I could have been seen by the front desk, but there was no one else in the elevator or the parkade."

"Why?"

"Because no one would care. Hannah didn't love him, and although those other women thought they did, they were wrong. A man like that is too selfish to live. John just threw me away like a used kleenex. He had no consideration of my feelings at all. Then he had the gall to say that he actually cared about Samantha, and he'd try and make it last. John blamed all his problems with relationships on the woman, and never had the guts to see it was all his fault."

"Not to mention that this was revenge. You still cared about him, didn't you?" Goren wanted to know.

"We dated for two years, Detective. Of course I loved him. But I was just another conquest, someone he could brag about to the guys in the bar. Tell me, if you woke up to discover that your girlfriend had left for another man, wouldn't you be mad?"

"Anyone would. But this isn't about me and my girlfriend, this is about you and John. You just couldn't stand the thought of him in someone else's arms. If he wasn't with you, he wouldn't be with anyone. But John wasn't able to be faithful to anyone. He was a sex addict. That's all he cared about, because he was trying to fill a hole, a need for companionship that nothing else filled. As far as he was concerned, the woman didn't matter, only the fact that he had someone did. That's what you couldn't stand."

"You're right." Edith said softly. "He wasn't ever going to change, and I knew that if I didn't stop him, he'd sleep with the wrong woman, and a husband or boyfriend would kill him. It was only a matter of time."

"That wasn't your judgement to make." Eames softly replied. Edith stood up, and Eames cuffed her before handing her to the detectives just outside the door.

"Well, I'm going home to spend some quality time with the TV. Don't stay up too late, Goren."

"I won't, Eames. Good night."

She nodded and headed out. Goren grabbed his jacket, and left as well. He was thinking of phoning Carolyn tonight. They saw each other when they could, but sometimes he just wanted to hear her voice.


"Richie, can I talk to you for a moment?" Ross called just as Goren got on the elevator.

"What is it Captain?"

"I just got a call from the chief, and I'd like you to help investigate. A couple of uniforms found something disturbing, a severed head. It was beside the railroad tracks."

Nice job, Amanda.

Thanks, flashymom. This was something that first came to me as a longer story. But that didn't work, and so I decided I would rework it into a medium length story to try and see if I could do it. It didn't turn out too bad...

Just bumping this up... seems like a great topic...

how about this




First Line.B 13

Last Line. That's not my baby.