�Male Caucasian, found outside on the church steps. Name�s Frankie Paige, lives not far from here, reported missing last night. He�s been beaten pretty badly, and there�s also evidence of possible sexual assault.� Bobby walked behind the officer in charge, taking in every aspect of the scene that he could. The high vaulted roof stood as if trying to spear the very sky, the battlements glossy with leftover rainwater. //Church. It�s been a while since I was in one of these�//
�And we aren�t shooting this over to SVU because�?� Bobby had to fight to keep his teeth from grinding. Bishop. Ever present, damn her, and somehow not nearly as funny as who she was replacing. Temporarily.
�The boy is the son of a city councilman, one currently being indicted on fraud and witness tampering in another of MCS�s cases.�
�So we�re keeping this in house.� //Yes, you stupid woman, now please stop standing in my crime scene! // Not that he said that, of course, but so very much of him wanted to.
�Bishop? Could you take about two steps back, please?� She did as she was told, for once, and Bobby proceeded to work through the scene. The boy was indeed beaten, but something didn�t sit correctly with the bruises to his legs. They seemed both old and new, as if given in stages. The ME approached, and he stepped aside to allow her space.
�Male Caucasian, age 10-13, average height and build, and� oh dear God�� Her voice died away as what little color she had drained from her cheeks.
�What is it, Rogers?� Bobby asked, taken aback by the sudden change in her.
�I need to get him back to my office,� She was on her feet in a snap, barking orders to her two assistants, who were with her in a flash as she moved to cover and contain the body.
�Come with me, Bobby. You�ll need to see this.�
�All right.� He turned briefly to see a bewildered Bishop standing as still as the statue just beside her. //Perfect. Field training,// he thought with a smile. �Wrap this up, and meet me back at the station.�
�What?!�
�Just do it.� With that he was gone, and she was left with three inspectors and several officers waiting her commands. None were forthcoming.
~~~~~
Bobby stepped into the �Autopsy Chamber� as he liked to call it just as they were unloading the young boy�s body onto the slab. Normally, Bobby had no problem watching such proceedings. After all, the person was already dead; no need to be ginger, especially if they were about to be cut up anyway. But this was different. This boy was exactly that, a boy. A child. And not only that, a child driven through the worst possible horror before dying, cold and alone, on the steps of a place he thought he would be safe�
�Bobby?� One young assistant nudged him out of his stupor, and Bobby barely acknowledged him as he zeroed in on his target.
�All right, what�s going on, Rogers? You never pull out of a scene that fast.� The redheaded ME looked up at him, a look he�d seen on her face only once before draping down like a black cloak.
�I didn�t need the scene to tell me what happened, Bobby.� //Uh oh. Danger, Will Robinson.//
�This boy was molested, easily within an hour of death.� Her face, as pale as bone could ever be, seemed to glow white. �He wasn�t moved far -if at all- from where the molestation occurred.�
�So you�re saying that�?� Bobby said, covering his question with a gesture he knew she would understand.
�He was either molested on those steps, or in the church.�
~~~~~
�Hey, I heard about that councilman�s kid. I want in.� Bobby was no sooner to his desk before he was accosted by one of the most endearing and annoying men in Major Case. Mike Logan, though new to the Squad, had made a name for himself as a great advocate of children. And apparently, word travels fast no matter the precinct.
�Mike, you really need to let us handle it.�
�Not a chance! I want a piece of this guy when you bring him down.� That sounded ominous. Interesting, but ominous. Bobby regarded the man before him a moment, taking him in truly for the first time. Bobby had looked over his file briefly, as it had been laid out on Captain Deakins� desk when Bobby was in his office one morning, and the man before him looked only slightly older than his uniform photo. Though he was graying a touch at the temple, he still had a thorough shock of ebony for hair. //An Irish boy to the end.// With a temper to match, from the look of him. He practically seethed, never mind his staunch outward control. Staten Island had obviously taught him a thing or two about discipline. Good, because he was going to need it, especially in this department.
�I understand-�
�Like hell.� Cold, hard and uncompromising. In two little words, Bobby was ready to hand the man anything, and that had never happened before. But he wasn�t intimidated. Something else drove this feeling. Something�.warm. Human. Mike had a much more personal connection to this case than he was letting on, and Bobby was out to find out what. But first thing�s first.
�All right. You�re with me. Bishop�s getting me information, so you can join me for the moment.� Mike�s hard glare reared into a smirk, his eyes never wavering.
�Getting you information? Sounds more like your assistant than your partner.�
�My partner is on maternity leave. Her temporary replacement is� less than stellar, you might say.� Bobby hadn�t meant to be so harsh, but damn it, it felt good to talk to someone about that horrid woman!
�In other words, Major Case gave you a Major Rookie.� Bobby smiled knowingly, grabbing his coat as Mike held onto his own.
�You could say that. Come on. Let's see if the other boys in the church have anything to say.�
~~~~~
�This the place?� Mike kept pace with Bobby pretty well as they made their way up the front steps of the old brownstone building. It was an average neighborhood for this area, nothing fancy, but nothing dangerous either. For New York, anyway.
�Yes. Mrs. Eleanor Robins attends the same church, and her son�s an alter boy, just like our victim. She didn�t file a complaint, but let�s see if either she or ser son can tell us anything.� They reached the door and Mike beat him to the knock. He might have to get used to not being as in charge. //Still better than that bitch Bishop.//
The heavy door swung open slowly, revealing a slightly rounding, middle-aged woman in a flower dress and equally flowered apron.
�Good day, Mrs. Robins. I�m Detective Goren, and this is Detective Logan. We�d like to ask you a few questions about St. Elizabeth�s Church.�
�No, what you want is for me to implicate my church in this horrid scandal. Well, you can forget it!�
�Ma�am, we know this is difficult, but we�re just trying to understand what happened. We don�t want to implicate the church if it isn�t necessary, but you need to tell us everything you can about your son and his friends and their habits, and that does include their duties as alter boys.� Her expression softened a bit, and Bobby breathed an inward sigh of relief. A relief short lived.
�We�ll also need to speak with your son, Jason.� Bobby didn�t want to wince. He didn�t want to look over at Mike like he was a crack monkey. Not that these thoughts stopped him, but he didn�t want to, and he wanted that put on record in his head. When his gaze returned to the woman before them, that hard edge to her eyes had returned in earnest.
�I will speak with you, if I must, but you will not go near my son.�
�Do you have something to hide?� Again Bobby hid his flinch as best he could, but not quite good enough. The other two looked at him a moment, Mike with confusion, but she with anger.
�No, and I want you out of here, right now!� Slam! As Bobby recovered from the shock of the door getting within inches of his face, he thought of how many ways he could bash in the face of a certain other police detective. He turned to see Mike stiff-legging it toward the car.
�That went well.� Mike yanked his door open just to glower at Goren. Prick.
�Yeah, like you could have handled it any better.�
�I would have, if you hadn�t opened your big freakin� mouth.� Bobby slammed his door shut, followed quickly by another slam. Mike turned toward him bodily as Bobby started the car.
�You got a problem with the way I do things?� The car roared to life as if to voice its own dismay.
�Right now? Yeah, I do.� And before Mike could say anymore, Bobby hit the accelerator hard, sending Mike flying back in his seat and scrambling for his seatbelt. He hooked it into place just as they hit the highway. And for some reason, they still weren�t slowing down.
�Where�re we goin�?�
�I need a minute to think.� The lights flicked on, and traffic parted for their continued acceleration. Mike was beginning to get worried.
�At 90 miles an hour?�
�Yup. Best way, really.� //Best way to get us killed, you mean.// Mike sunk into his seat and acquainted himself with the �oh, shit� handle on his door. He didn�t honestly think he would need it, but like his gun, he was just glad it was there.
Bobby let his conscious mind drive as he sunk into himself, fuming and arguing with himself as he was tending to do more often recently. //Stupid, Mike. Real stupid. I could have had her eating out of my hand. He didn�t know. He should have. He�s supposed to be better than this. Calm down. He�s not Bishop. He�s not Alex, either. No one is, but think about it. Mike�s agitated. Of course. Kids are involved. Wait. His File. He was abused. Some �Father Joe.� A Priest. Another child abused by a priest. And Mike wants to keep it from happening again, protect a child when he wasn�t protected. Got it.//
�Much as I�m enjoying this �Driving Miss Daisy� moment, I really think we should get back to the precinct and get some actual work done.�
�I couldn�t agree more. Especially now that I have something to work with.� Bobby pulled off suddenly onto an exit, barely slowly down enough to make the turn onto the very busy street. They weaved through traffic for what felt like hours before coming to a halt in front of a very small caf�. Bobby killed the engine, and Mike was half tempted to kiss the ground as he stepped out and followed Bobby inside.
Bobby took over a booth, and Mike slid in opposite, still not understanding why they'd stopped at this place at all. The waitress brought over two coffees, and Mike watched in awe as Bobby downed half the steaming cup in a single gulp.
�I know why you wanted this case, and I have to ask whether or not your past history is going to encumber you on this.�
�What, I�m not allowed to look out for a kid�s welfare?�
�No, I just know that you�don�t have a lot of love for the church.�
�And you don�t have a lot of love for mental hospitals either, but that doesn�t stop you from doing your job, does it?� Bobby sat back a moment, his mind reaching back to memories of Nicole Wallace�which he immediately swept aside. //He�s not Nicole. He probably doesn�t even know about her.//
�No, it doesn�t have anything to do with my job.� He looked away a moment, not knowing why he wasn�t nervous. �But just so you know, my mother is in a mental hospital.�
Mike could have sworn his jaw just hit the floor, right before he did a perfect fish impression. �What? Why?�
�She�s schizophrenic. She developed it when I was about six, but it didn�t get bad until later. But you�re right, it doesn�t affect my work, so I guess we�re even.� Bobby gestured evenly as he always did when speaking on this subject, but Mike saw right through it. He was hurting, and Mike knew well that kind of pain.
�I didn�t mean it like that, Bobby.� Mike caught a hand mid motion as it swept between them dismissively. He took it gently as laid in on the table, not removing his own hand. �I didn�t know, Bobby. But if I had, I wouldn�t have said that. I�m sorry.� Bobby looked up, and for just a moment Mike couldn�t shake the feeling of warmth under his hand, nor the understanding in those deep onyx eyes.
Dear god, what was happening here? First, this incredibly weird senior detective grudgingly agrees to take Mike with him on a case. Then the only breakthrough they manage is to get on each other�s nerves and agree on that fact alone. Now Mike was fighting back a deep and rather disturbing urge to take this man in his arms and kiss him like there was no tomorrow? What the hell was going on?!
//This guy is officially dangerous.// Bobby�s heartbeat kicked up another notch. His rake-hell attitude, his forked tongue, and his almost violent temper not withstanding, this man was amazing. Amazingly observant, especially by Bobby Goren standards, amazingly insightful, especially when compared to Alex. But now he was something else. Something that made him more dangerous than the men they were hunting. For the first time Bobby was really looking at him, and Michael Logan was gorgeous, right down to the insane mix of cologne and sweat and spice that wafted off his skin. And Bobby was getting uncomfortably nervous.
�All right, Mike, what do we do now?�
//Anything that gets me away from you. // Mike thought with a deep swallow. He managed to get to his feet without falling over, despite shaking legs and a stomach that didn't want to come willingly. �We find the bastards that did this.� Mike brushed passed in what appeared to be a huff, and to anyone else it would have worked. But not to Bobby. He could see the softened, almost unprepared look in Mike�s eyes. And it gave him pause.
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