Hello. This came to me (as most of my stories do). Just some missed opportunities that were given some openings in-show. Love or hate it, just continue to be kind. Enjoy!

She had been admittedly surprised, but also grateful, when the phone call had come.

"Alex," he had said. And it was all it had taken for Alex to know – if the pain laced throughout those two syllables wasn't enough – that Frances Goren's fight had ended.

She raced from work, braving the late-evening traffic, to make the journey to Carmel Ridge. She had only been here once. Driving on auto-pilot, she let her mind wander. After Frank had given their mother the wrong impression, Frances, in her tormented mind, was certain that Bobby was not introducing his 'girlfriend" out of fear. Or shame. Getting that explanation from Bobby was enough for Alex to accompany him one warm Tuesday evening. She had told Bobby that his mother probably just wanted to make sure that he was taken care of, happy. But the look of doubt that shadowed Bobby's face in response had broken Alex's heart.

So her curiosity was one reason she had agreed to meet the woman she had heard so much about for five years. She remembered being somewhat surprised at how diminutive the elder woman was. The loss of weight making her features sharper. She recalled the shrewd once-over she had gotten once she had introduced herself. Alex additionally marveled that the tiny Frances Goren was a mother to someone with Bobby's broad, tall frame.

Alex had put on a false sense of bravado and confidence, a sense of self protection should she be found lacking (and struggled not to think about just why it mattered), but she must have passed muster because, before she knew it, Frances was sending her son out of the room with an empty dinner tray, asking Bobby to give it to her favorite nurse, Sarah.

Alex, even hurting as she was for Bobby, smiled as she recalled the eye roll and huff Mrs. Goren had responded with as Bobby dawdled, seemingly unsure of whether to leave them alone or not.

"For God's sake, Bobby. I'm not going to maul Alex like a Pitbull." Her voice then softened. "Give us a moment. Go give the tray to Sarah."

The irritation soon replaced the temporary honey, however, when Frances added, "Not even sure why they make sure I eat everything since I'm dying!"

Alex still recalled the slight flash of pain in her partner's brown eyes at the last word, and Alex – speaking to Bobby wordlessly with just a look, as was now their custom because of so many years together on the job – let her own eyes soften as she looked at Bobby. Understanding, Bobby then nodded. He went over and kissed Frances' forehead…and, to Alex's utter shock, kissed her own cheek before mumbling, "Be back in a bit." After the impromptu kiss, Bobby evaded Alex's gaze as he hastily left the room.

Upon his exit, Alex had expected the Spanish Inquisition. Instead, both women were silent. The only sounds were staff in the hallway and the sound of a gentle spring rain tapping at the window.

Alex was at a loss for words. She then found the cluster of family photos adorning a side table, quickly finding Bobby's police graduation photo. She bit her lip. He really was handsome in his dress blues.

Still is.

She had quickly shut that thought down and, still holding that picture frame, looked over to see Frances looking at her. While her body was weak, her eyes were sharp, and Alex got the feeling that Frances saw far more than what Alex let show.

Her voice tired, but still strong, Frances finally broke the silence. "You know about me?"

Alex put the frame down gently on the table and walked near Frances' bed. She debated on whether to play coy out of a sense of politeness or be completely honest. One look at Frances Goren's face decided for her.

"About your illness?" Alex asked. "Yeah, Bobby told me."

Frances patted her bed. "Sit," she had said. It wasn't a request.

At that moment, Frances Goren reminded Alex of a drill sergeant, both admiring and yet a bit piqued at the older woman's acerbic command. However, Alex decided to let it go and did as she was told.

"Which one?" Frances had asked, a bit bemused.

"I'm sorry?" Alex had rejoined, confused.

"Did my son tell you about the cancer – or the fact that I'm clinically classified as a head case?"

Alex's eyes widened a bit at Frances' blunt description. A few minutes with Bobby's mother had quickly explained so much about him. Thinking he'd be pleased, Alex did her own profile of Frances and, by extension, what she imagined it was like having such a candid, somewhat acerbic woman as a mother, her mind both suspicious and fearful of a condition far beyond her control. Then taking that fear and uncertainty out on those that loved her.

Then Alex felt a sliver of guilt. If she were dying, she probably wouldn't be sweetness and light and that tolerant of bullshit, either…

Deciding to meet the small woman head on, Alex met Frances' brown eyes with her own. "He told me about…both. The cancer and the schizophrenia."

Silence reigned again for a few moments as the women sized each other up, a sort of chess game with simply two pairs of eyes. Finally, Frances nodded and said, a trace of defensiveness in her voice, "Bobby's a good boy."

Alex struggled not to smile at such a "mother-y" assessment. It actually softened her towards Frances.

"He's the best," Alex agreed, truthfully.

Frances seemed to choose her next words carefully.

"I don't have much time left."

Feeling a bit unsettled, Alex tried to soothe her. "I'm sure that you…"

But Frances held up a frail hand, her head lolling back on her pillow, as if the energy to keep it focused on the younger woman was too much.

"We both know it's true," Frances sighed.

Alex picked some lint off the sterile-looking quilt, staring intently at the weave pattern. She looked up to see Frances had closed her eyes. Alex thought she had fallen asleep but was soon disabused of the notion when Frances' small hand felt around until it found Alex's hand. Alex startled a bit at the contact but quickly settled down.

Opening her eyes again, Frances tightened her grip.

"I always worried about Bobby." Frances sighed.

Alex blinked, somewhat surprised. Based on all her talks with Bobby, the few times he would mention his mother, it was always noting her preference for Frank, how his mother was certain that Bobby had all the luck.

"He…He feels things so deeply. I'd always hoped that I didn't screw him up and he'd find someone and be happy."

Swallowing a small lump that had formed in her throat, Alex managed to push words out of a dry mouth. "Everyone screws up their kids." Alex told her. "Our job has tons of proof there." Alex managed a soft grin.

"The key is to love them even when you goof. And Bobby's devotion to you tells me that you did your best." Alex wasn't sure if that were true, but kindness overtook judgment.

It seemed to touch Frances, as Alex saw a sheen of tears glazing Frances' eyes. "Thank you," she rasped, grateful.

Frances cleared her throat. Like her son, she tried to keep her emotions close to the vest, embarrassed by her momentary openness. Alex tried to think of something to say, to dispel the awkwardness. But once more, Frances surprised her.

"I need to ask you a question."

Alex realized Frances was still clutching her hand. She felt the grip tighten when she spoke and then ease, as if the sentence took much of her strength.

Feeling apprehensive, Alex nodded, reluctantly. "Okay."

Frances' penetrating gaze once more pinned Alex in its cross-hairs.

"My son…he always talked about you. 'Eames' this, 'Eames' that," Frances confessed. Alex felt her heart speed up. "I was sure he was hyping you up, but now, meeting you…" Frances stopped, looked away, looked back again. "Between us, Alex. May I call you Alex?"

Alex struggled to keep up with the verbal ping-ponging. She nodded, mutely, which was enough to spur the elder woman on.

Frances – putting many lawyers to shame - eyed Alex like a lawyer would eye a witness on the stand. Sitting up fully, suddenly, Frances cocked her head to the side, a pose Alex had seen so often. Once more, Alex marveled at how much Bobby and his mother were alike.

"Alex…do you love my son?"

Feeling her face flush, Alex looked down once more at the hospital quilt. She bit her lip.

Alex had always thought herself brave. But now, she found herself wanting to run. A simple question that opened a Pandora's Box of sublimated emotions. One thing to be aware of feelings, quite another to actually reveal them aloud.

She risked a look at Frances Goren, opened her mouth, then closed it. Finally, Alex broke through her own protective wall, finally giving voice and light to what she had compartmentalized for years.

"Very much, Mrs. Goren."

Frances gave a short curt nod, satisfied. Her grip on Alex's hand fell away and she lay back against the pillows once more.

"You're Alex. I'm Frances," she decreed.

She continued.

"I…want you to promise me something, Alex."

Licking her lips, Alex nodded. "What's that?"

Frances turned her head away then, in the direction of the photo array and the doorway that Bobby had exited.

"Take care of Bobby when I'm gone. He'd never tell you. Stubborn like me," Frances gave the faintest of grins before adding, "But he needs you. I'm…glad he chose better than I did."

Alex thought of Mark Ford Brady, the recent revelation that had knocked Bobby from his axis. Alex worried for him. She kept all of that to herself, however, forcing herself to stay in the here and now. The lump in her throat had grown and she felt her eyes burn a bit. She hurt for Bobby. But she needed to be strong.

"Mrs. –"

Turning back to Alex with a steely look, Alex began again. "Frances, I'm not sure that Bobby…loves…me…as more than a friend."

Scoffing, Frances rolled her eyes. "And you're a detective?"

Her hands waving in agitation, Frances sighed. "I know my Bobby. I know he thinks the world of you. And he's gonna close up tight when I go."

"Just…be there for him. Please?" Frances implored.

It was Alex's turn to clasp Frances Goren's hand as Alex recalled her simple "I will." A promise and a vow.

Whatever else may have been said was forgotten as Bobby came back, both surprised and relieved to see Alex sitting on his mother's bed.

That visit still heavy on her mind, Alex entered Carmel Ridge as she saw Bobby's tall, tired frame slowly exit the now-darkened, empty room. Wordlessly, she went to Bobby and, on tiptoe, reached up to hug him with all her strength.

Bobby resisted all of two seconds before she felt him relax into the warmth of her embrace. Pulling back, his gaze looked down into her face. "You came." His eyes were red rimmed, damp.

Feeling her own fill, Alex reached up, cupping Bobby's devastated face in her hands, the stubble gently abrading her palms.

With one last thought to Frances Goren, to the promise she made, Alex replied, "And I always will."

Fin