A LOCI Christmas Carol

A LOCI Christmas Carol

Advice From A Friend

Disclaimer: Same old stuff - I don't own them they belong to Dick Wolf.

A/N: In the spirit of the season, this plot bunny jumped into my head. I tried to stamp it out and kill it but it had to be written so don't say I didn't try to spare you. Thanks to gorengal for the beta!

A LOCI Christmas Carol

Advice From a Friend

As he made his way home on Christmas Eve, Bobby Goren tried his best to ignore the happy crowd of last minute shoppers and people running home to their loved ones with prettily-wrapped presents. It was the first Christmas since his mother died and he had nowhere to go. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Alex invited him to spend time with her family. But he just couldn't bring himself to be around a happy family right now. Especially one that wasn't his.

A cold wind whipped around him as a light snow fall began just as he arrived at his apartment building. He escaped the busy street into the relative calm of his building, feeling the quiet envelop him as the entrance door closed behind him. Even here he couldn't escape the holiday. Wreaths were hung on some doors and the scent of pine mixed with turkey, ham and other holiday food filtered out into the hall.

By the time he entered the sanctity of his apartment, Bobby felt bone weary and depressed. After he shed his coat and dropped his binder onto his desk, Bobby changed from his suit to gray sweats and checked his refrigerator to see if there was anything salveagable for dinner. He knew all he had was some left over Thai food, wilted lettuce and four bottles of beer. For a moment he considered ordering a pizza but decided he wasn't really hungry so he settled for a beer and some cheese crackers.

As he dropped onto his sofa and turned on the TV, he heard some neighbor's children running down the hall, squealing "Santa's coming, Santa's coming!"

There's got to be some kind of psychological consequence to fooling your children into believing in an old guy in a red suit who encourages children to sit on his lap and tell them what they want most in the world. Christmas...bah humbug. He chuckled as his channel surfing landed him on the George C. Scott version of 'A Christmas Carol' a second after the phrase entered his mind.

"It's better than 'A Wonderful Life' for the millionth time," he muttered to himself.

An hour later he started nodding off when his cell phone rang. For a moment he hesitated answering it but then thought hopefully it was Ross or Eames calling him out on a case. The caller ID said Eames Cell so that was promising.

"Yeah, what's up, Eames?" he replied, wondering how depressed he had to be for a potential homicide on Christmas Eve to make him feel better?

"Hey Bobby, just wanted to let you know you're still invited to dinner tonight. My brother's partner and his wife will be here, too, so you won't be the only non-Eames here," said the cheerful voice of his partner.

"Uh...thanks, Alex, but I already ate and I think I'm just going to bed. It's been a long day."

"For me, too, you know. But I understand. Tomorrow is still an option as well, Bobby. My family's Christmas celebration always include the entire neighborhood - and no, I'm not related to the entire neighborhood."

Bobby chuckled despite himself. "Thanks, I'll think about it, all right?" He hoped he could placate Alex enough so she wouldn't continue to pester him. He appreciated her offer but this was his first Christmas without his mother and while there were holidays when she wasn't the most pleasant or lucid person to be around, she was his mother and he loved her.

"All right. I know a brush off when I hear one. But I wish you would think about it. You shouldn't be alone on Christmas."

"I'll be fine," he said, trying to sound convincing for both Alex's sake and his own. Besides, I'm alone the rest of the year, why should tonight or tomorrow be any different?

"Merry Christmas despite yourself, Bobby."

"You, too Alex." Bobby tossed his cell phone back on the coffee table and decided he'd had enough of those ghosts of Christmas. He turned off the TV and went to bed.

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He was in the middle of a deep sleep when he was rudely awakened by the sound of his phone ringing. Once again, he found himself hoping he was being called out to a crime scene. I must really be pathetic if I'm looking forward to working - especially in my line of work.

"Goren," he croaked into the phone.

"Robert Goren?" an unfamiliar male voice asked.

"Depends. Who wants to know?" Bobby asked warily.