Prologue-
“Psst.” Buck hissed dramatically.
J.D. scowled as he glanced up from his computer. “What? I’m busy here!”
Buck jerked his head to the doorway where a man in a suit had just entered. “It’s the Rat Squad!”
This made Josiah lean back to check out what Buck was talking about. He chuckled and shook his head. “We’re not the Denver PD, Buck. It’s the IIF, remember? Internal Investigations and Fraud?”
The man ignored them and scurried to Chris’s office, knocking demandingly. After a brief silence, Chris called, “Enter.” The men watched as the man straightened his tie and opened the door.
When it closed behind him, Buck frowned thoughtfully and played with the end of his mustache. “I wonder what’s goin’ on?”
Ezra was slightly hunched as unwanted reminders of his past crossed his memory. The sight of his desk mate made him straighten slightly. Vin could read him like a book and he didn’t want his friend to worry.
Vin sauntered into the office, tossing his hat and battered briefcase onto his desk with a relieved sigh. “Boys,” he greeted cheerfully as he flopped into his chair, yanking off his tie at the same time.
Nathan grinned at the sigh. “How was court, Vin?”
“It pretty much sucked as usual. God, if I don’t see that battleaxe of a DA again it will be too damn soon.”
Chris’s door opened and a barked, “Tanner!” made them jump.
“Oooh, what did ya do now, Junior?” Buck teased as Vin stood, dropping his blue blazer on top of his tie.
“Bite me, Wilmington.”
“I would but ya’d just poison me.”
Vin laughed and went to Chris’s open office door, poking his head in. “Yeah, Chris?” His eyes went to the skinny, pale man who was losing his light brown hair in an obvious display of early male pattern baldness.
The leader of Team 7 made a face and waved him in. “Have a seat, Vin. Agent Springhill has something he’d like to ask you.”
Chris knew that his team was the best. And human nature being what it was, there was bound to be a certain amount of jealousy, but shit like this was ridiculous. Unfortunately this was far from the first time one of his team had been targeted, though it was Vin’s first experience with the IIF.
Springhill smirked and tossed a folder at Vin. “We’d like for you to explain this, Agent Tanner.”
The smug superiority made Vin want to gag, but he obligingly opened the file. Inside was information on a bank account of over fifty grand. He gave himself time to debate his options before he lifted his eyes to Chris and smiled. “Yep, this is mine.”
Springhill pounced. “How’d you get the money, Agent Tanner?” he demanded.
Vin’s lips twisted and he looked at Chris. “I got a question.” He deliberately deepened his Texas accent.
Chris kept his face neutral, but his eyes smiled. “Sure.”
“Ya make sure that the people that ya hire kin read and write?”
Hard pressed not to laugh, Chris nodded.
“And they check their eyesight, too?” Vin looked absolutely innocent, but his drawl had thickened even more.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Agent Springhill demanded.
“Well, iffen ya’s read my personnel file, you’d ‘ave noticed a little section called ‘previous employment’, right?”
Chris snorted softly. He’d known that there had to be a simple explanation.
“So?” Springhill asked.
Now Vin sat up, blue eyes sharp. “Because, ya damn idiot, I was a bounty hunter before I came to the ATF! I chased people for money? And I was damned good at it,” he snapped.
“Then I assume you have all the appropriate documentation?” Springhill demanded, though his excitement had slightly deflated.
Vin knew that they’d made sure that there’d be no holes in his background. “Yep, I can send it to ya this afternoon.”
Springhill, at this point, looked so damn crestfallen that Chris wanted to laugh. Instead he scowled. “You have your answer, and I’d appreciate your supervisor calling me immediately to discuss procedure and any disciplinary actions that I deem to be necessary for the harassment of my agent.”
The pale agent sprang to his feet. “Yes, sir.”
Chris let the man stew for a long moment, his hazel eyes steely.
“You’re dismissed,” he barked and Springhill scrambled out of Team 7’s offices like the demons of hell were on his heels. As soon they heard the door close, Chris and Vin broke into laughter.
“Damn, cowboy! Ya almost made him piss his pants,” Vin chortled.
“If I may ask what just happened?” Ezra drawled from Chris’s doorway. The others were behind him, curiosity on their faces.
Chris chuckled. “IIF thought they had a live one. They wanted to accuse Vin of money-laundering or something because he never spent the bounties he’s made.”
“Vin? Doing something crooked?” J.D. shook his head. “What idiots,” he privately decided he was going to do a little mischief with his computer at the next available moment.
Josiah smiled. “Someone’s jealous,” was all he said before he walked back to his desk.
“Well, this makes a nice change from the suspicion being laid at my feet,” Ezra pronounced with a commiserating smile for Vin. If anyone understood the taint of suspicion, it was the team’s undercover agent.
“I’m okay, Ez. Chris set the little weasel straight,” Vin waved his hands at the rest of his teammates in the doorway. “Now ya’all shoo, the old man needs his rest.”
There was boisterous laughter and Chris sighed. “You’re gonna get it, Tanner. You won’t know where or when.”
“Gotta catch me first,” Vin teased wickedly, blue eyes dancing as he closed Chris’s door.
The door opened and Chris leaned out, “Oh, and J.D.? Don’t crash IIF’s computers or whatever you were thinking of doing. They’re just idiots, not worth your time.” And he closed the door.
Shit. J.D. flushed beet red. Busted.
“Damn, J.D., that’s real sweet but I’m fine,” Vin said softly.
Buck reached out a long arm and ruffled J.D.’s hair, making the younger man snap and swear. “Keep it in reserve, Kid. Ya never know.”
Ezra sat down across from Vin, green eyes bright. “Just how much money are we talking about, Mr. Tanner?”
Vin shrugged. “Enough to pay off Nettie’s farm.” That was his plan, when he was finally done and knew he wouldn’t need to fall back on the money for any reason.
“That’s right nice of you, Vin.” Nathan said approvingly. “If she’d accept.”
There was laughter from the six men, because there was a wry truth to the statement. Nettie Wells was a fiercely independent school teacher and believed in making her own way.
What no one else knew was she’d also been a former OSS agent during WWII, and was the one person Vin had entrusted his secret to from the very beginning. He’d found out about her involvement when he’d been visiting her farm and had seen a medal box while looking for some gloves she’d asked him to find. Upon pulling it out, a sheet of paper had fallen out with it and he’d read the citation that told about her invaluable service to her country.
His eyes had met hers in the doorway, and she’d smiled crookedly, a bit embarrassed. “Julia Child and I were best friends.”
After chores had been done, Nettie had regaled him with stories of what she’d done during World War II, and Vin in turn had trusted her with his most precious secrets.
Shaking his head to clear the memories, he reached into his desk and pulled out his backup weapon. “Well, I’ve got to go down to the range. I’ll see you boys later.”
Chris was sitting in his office, staring at the closed door. If he hadn’t known better, he would swear that Vin had been flirting with him. And wasn’t sure why he found that…hot.
Apparently he had something to think about.
END1
*~*
Chap.1-
“Ms. Travis,” Vin said politely as the precisely coiffed woman swept through the office.
“Hello, Agent Tanner,” she replied brightly. Mary went straight to Chris’s door and knocked.
Chris looked up in surprise. It obviously wasn’t one of his team. “Come in,” he called, mentally wincing when he saw it was Mary. “Hello, Mary.”
The lack of enthusiasm went right over her head. “Hello, Chris. You know the Spring Law Enforcement Ball and Charity Auction is coming up,” she chirped as she shut the door.
Shit.
“Um, yeah. About that…” he began. He might as well fix this now, while they were in a semi-neutral environment.
“I’m going to be wearing a peach Givenchy, so you should prepare accordingly,” she interrupted.
“Mary, be quiet for a minute.” Chris said impatiently. He ignored the hurt look on her face. “Listen Mary, I’m not going to be your date for these things anymore.”
“Why ever not?” she asked in shock.
Chris took a deep breath, about to say something out loud that he’d only recently admitted to himself. “I’ve met someone.”
Mary stared in disbelief. This was not happening. Chris was supposed to be falling in love with her, not seeing some bimbo she’d never even met!
Control, Mary. “Do I know her?”
“No.” Chris inwardly smiled. It wasn’t a ‘her’ either.
Composing herself, Mary shifted slightly. “When do we meet the lucky lady?” she wanted to claw her eyes out personally.
“Mary,” Chris struggled to figure out something to say. “They’re shy, and right now I want us to get to know each other better before springing my friends on them,” he was pleased, he had managed the entire sentence without mentioning a gender.
Realizing she wasn’t going to get anymore information out of him, Mary stiffly stood. “I hope that you’ll be very happy together.”
Chris shrugged. “Thanks, Mary. We’ll have to see,” he said. Have to see if he even feels the same way about me.
Mary nodded and left his office, her movements stiff and jerky. She ignored the men in the office as she marched through and disappeared into the elevator.
Puzzled, Vin turned around to glance at Buck, who only shrugged and jerked his head toward Chris's office.
Vin nodded and got up, throwing a grin over his shoulder to Buck as he walked to the closed door. He knocked and opened the door without waiting for Chris to say anything.
“Damn it! Can’t you wait until I say come in?” Chris grumbled.
“Nope,” Vin said cheerfully.
Chris’s heart thumped. It just couldn’t help it; Vin was the one thing above all else that he wanted in his life. It had taken him a couple of months, but he’d finally figured out that he was slowly but surely falling in love with one ornery, bull headed sharpshooter.
“What do you want, Tanner?” he asked gruffly, though he knew that Vin knew he wasn’t angry.
Vin shrugged, eyes bright with amusement. “Saw Ms. Travis sail outta here like her skirts were on fire. Just wanted to check up on ya.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “Mary came in and reminded me about the Law Enforcement Spring Fling."
Feeling himself tense up, Vin tried to say casually, "Ya know the Judge hates ya callin' it that."
Something about Vin's body language made Chris eye his friend narrowly. "You know I can't remember the real name most times. Anyway, I told Mary I wasn’t going to be her escort anymore.”
Relief screamed through Vin but he tried to keep from showing it. What he didn’t realize was his blue eyes glowed as he casually asked, “Is that so?”
Bingo! There was some kind of feeling there, Chris thought with delight. They'd been dancing around each other for so long that he hadn't been sure if he was just imagining things or not. “Yep.”
“Chris, there’s an Agent Derkins from the FBI here to see you.” Buck called through the partially open doorway.
Vin straightened and threw his friend a wry smile. “You just get all the fun, cowboy.”
“Whoopee.” Chris grumbled.
*^*
The ballroom of the Grand Hotel was tastefully decorated, banks of flowers in red, pink and orange giving the previously staid space verve and color. This year’s charity was the local Alzheimer's Help Group. They provided daycare for Alzheimer patients while giving their caregivers, more often than not spouses or children of the patient, time off from the grueling responsibilities. As Nathan had said, a worthy charity.
Team 7 arrived, J.D. with Casey, Josiah with a curvy ATF psychologist who was almost as tall as he, Nathan with his wife Rain, Buck with a stewardess he’d met on his last flight, Ezra escorting another ATF agent, while Chris and Vin arrived alone.
Predictably the Team stayed together as the ballroom filled with representatives from other law enforcement agencies. Some they knew, and cordially detested, while some they’d worked with in the past and now had excellent working relationships with.
“It would do all of you good if you mingled,” came Judge Travis’s dry voice.
“Hello, sir.” Chris answered for all of them, feeling uncomfortable under the man’s scrutiny.
“Chris. I don’t see your date this evening,” Mrs. Travis asked, her face plainly showing her unhappiness with him for not squiring Mary.
Vin stepped up and smiled that boyish smile of his that made women alternately want to mother him or kiss him. “Chris knew how shy I was and agreed to come as my date, Missus Travis.”
Mrs. Travis couldn't help but smile back at the charming Texan. "I don't believe you have a shy bone in your body, Agent Tanner," she scolded.
Team 7 was behind them, and there was a lot of smothered laughter. Vin kept his face still but his eyes sparkled as they met Chris’s. "Yes, ma'am."
“Leave the boys alone, dear.” Judge Travis said mildly. He’d had the feeling that Chris wasn’t interested in his former daughter-in-law. His wife however hadn’t listened to him and had been trying to matchmake the two widowed young people ever since Mary had expressed her interest.
As the group broke up to mingle, Chris leaned over to Vin. “Thanks for saving me, pard.”
Vin smirked. “Anytime, cowboy.”
~
Mary moved to another doorway, her eyes on Chris Larabee. To her surprise he hadn’t brought a date and she was still obsessed about finding out who Chris was seeing. She’d invested so much time into trying to build a relationship with the man, and she wasn’t going to let it go without a fight.
~
Chris didn’t know he was being spied on. He’d made the rounds, speaking to the other team leaders, then to the other law enforcement officials he knew. As he mingled he kept his attention on Vin, watching the younger man laugh with their friends.
Vin in a tux was something to behold. His hair was pulled back to show off the handsome face with his gorgeous blue eyes, and he was relaxed, which wasn’t very common for their normally reclusive sharpshooter.
The sound of the microphone squeaking made everyone turn their attention towards the stage. Fiddling with the microphone was a big man looking very uncomfortable in his tuxedo.
“Good evening, everyone. I’m Sheriff Jeff Connolly of Arapaho County, and my mother has had Alzheimer’s for the past three years,” the tall, commanding man looked momentarily lost. “She’s not recognized me for almost a year. One in ten of you will have a family member with the disease, and one in three of you will know someone personally. One in ten adults over 65 will get Alzheimer’s. Over the age of 80, it’s almost half. What’s worse is there is an inherited form that can strike in your thirties and forties. There are very few drugs that help stave it off, and none that cure it,” he paused to let those staggering statistics hit home.
“The money tonight won’t go for research, though that’s a great cause, but it will go closer to home. The Alzheimer’s Help Group Day Care is for those people who need a break. Most caretakers of Alzheimer’s patient’s opt to take care of their loved ones in home. Unfortunately it’s a full time job, because if you take your eyes off of your loved one, they can get into serious trouble, either by some kind of accident in the home, or wandering off. You all will remember Mr. James Runion.”
There were murmurs in the crowd. Just the previous week the city of Denver law enforcement entities had searched for the eighty year old man who’d wandered from his nursing home. It was two days before the man’s body had been found, a mere quarter of a mile away in the shallow rivers of a local park, devastating his wife, children and grandchildren. Nationwide, it was unfortunately an all too common tragedy.
“Tonight I want to you think about your families and friends that care for an Alzheimer's patient. I want you to remember that they can’t do it all themselves, and the Alzheimer’s day care is just one in a collection of organizations that can help. It’s important to let the caregivers know that they are not alone. Please everyone, open up your wallets for this great cause.”
The crowd had just finished clapping when Vin felt Chris’s presence. Turning around, it was almost a physical jolt when his eyes met Chris’s warm green ones.
The leader of the ATF was resplendent in his tuxedo, wearing a black shirt and a black satin black tie. Chris’s dark blonde hair was slicked back and his tan face stood out handsomely, severely challenging Vin’s self control and his ability not to drool.
“Vin,” the green eyes shone with laughter, and something deeper.
Vin smiled back. “Cowboy, you enjoyin’ your evening?”
“I am now.” Chris purred.
*^*
Mary couldn’t believe her eyes and ears. She hadn’t been married for eight years for nothing. She recognized love when she saw it, and that’s what she saw on Chris’s face. Love for Vin Tanner.
Anger bloomed in her so abruptly that she swayed. He wasn’t going to get away with this, it was wrong and unfair after all of the work she’d invested in their relationship. For God’s sake, her background and connections would help Chris rise in the ATF organization, while a homosexual relationship would surely doom it. She would help him whether he knew he needed it or not, and make sure he turned to her.
*^*
It felt funny to flirt again, Chris thought. But that’s what he and Vin were doing. His eyes would catch Vin’s blue ones and the heat in them was an almost physical thing. He couldn’t wait to see how far they could take it.
The sound of a cellphone made everyone in the vicinity begin patting pockets, and Buck laughed. “It’s not me.” There were similar murmurs throughout their group.
Vin made a surprised face. “It’s me,” he checked the number and his face went still. “I have to take this, sorry fellas.”
Chris was immediately uneasy, something was wrong. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, see ya in a minute.” Vin moved to one of the porticos that opened to the air and opened his phone. “What?” he growled.
“Why Agent Fitzgerald, you don’t sound happy to hear from me.”
“Maybe cuz I ain’t.”
There was a laugh. “You can drop the accent. Meet me upstairs, we need to talk.”
Vin closed his phone and spun on his heel, heading to the stairs, not noticing with all of the people around that he was being shadowed. He trotted up the stairs, glancing around curiously until he saw his contact. “Tommy.”
“Mr. Tanner,” the other man replied facetiously. “So Fitz, you’ve done a great job here. How close are you to wrapping this up? The senior Agent Fitzgerald would like to know.”
Vin rolled his eyes. “You can tell my father that it won’t be long. And could you notify Director Martin that I’m gonna put in a transfer to here.”
Agent Neal’s eyebrows rose. “You’ve met someone?”
“None of your business, Tommy.” Vin retorted cheerfully. His phone rang again and he looked at the unfamiliar number, then FBI agent who shook his head.
“It’s not us.”
Vin shrugged. “Tanner,” he answered.
“Hey pard, I borrowed Orin’s phone to let ya we’ve got us a case. You need to meet us at the front door.” Chris said ruefully.
“Damn, I ain’t had my dance with my date,” Vin teased and was rewarded by a husky laugh.
“Maybe another time.”
“It’s a promise,” Vin said. He didn’t know then that his days with Team 7 were already numbered.
Mary smiled vengefully from the shadowy corner she’d hidden in. So, Vin Tanner wasn’t who he seemed to be. Getting him out of Chris's way would be easy now.
What would the senior Agent Fitzgerald think about his son's interest in a man? It was past time to find out.
*^*End one
Two days later
*ring*
Waking abruptly, Chris grabbed the phone, his eyes darting towards the clock on his nightstand. “Larabee.”
“Chris, this is Orrin. Something’s happened. I need you and your team to come in.”
Something serious apparently, Chris thought. “Yes, sir,” he said, wondering what the hell was going on.
*^*
Vin put the last of his clothing in his suitcase, jerking when his phone rang. “Tanner,” he answered quietly.
“Vin, Chris. Sorry about this, but Orrin called, he needs us to come in.”
Vin swallowed hard. “Okay, pard. I’ll meet ya’ there,” the lie harder to swallow than he’d realized. He’d been ordered to head back to New York immediately since assignment was over, and he was to leave without getting in contact with his former team members.
His father then had called him personally and had not so subtly threatened to use his influence to made life rough for his friends, especially Chris. And that was something he wouldn’t let happen.
“See ya’ there,” Chris said warmly. He couldn’t wait to see the sharpshooter, even if it was at the butt-crack of dawn. Due to their latest case they hadn’t been able to spend any time together since the charity ball, but that was about to change if he had anything to say about it.
He felt like he was one of those desert flowers. During hard dry times it stayed underground, the way his heart felt after Sarah and Adam’s deaths. Then when the rains came, it would grow and flourish, amazingly beautiful after being almost dead. Chris snorted. He knew he was being fanciful like Ezra, but Vin was his rain and he felt alive again.
*^*
At the ATF headquarters Orrin watched solemnly as Team 7 trooped in tiredly. It had been a long week for everyone, and having everyone coming in at 0400, well, the lack of sleep was obvious. He watched as Chris kept strict track, his head swinging to the door searching for his last team member like a duck for its duckling.
“We ready?” Orrin finally, knowing he had to suppress the hope he could see.
“Vin’s not here yet,” J.D. pointed out quickly.
“He won’t be coming back, J.D.,” Orrin addressed the youngest team member to avoid looking directly at his team leader.
“What?” Buck boomed over the others surprised questions.
Orrin held up a hand and waited until everyone subsided. “Vin Tanner has been working undercover for three years to expose corruption in the ATF,” he saw the denial and disbelief on Team 7’s faces. “He’s directly responsible for taking down Team 13, Mark Owins, Frank Byerly of Team 1 and Tim Ryan in supply.”
There was stunned silence as the reason why the sharpshooter had been passed around to the other teams so often, over Chris’s voluble protests that Vin had belonged to 7, sunk in.
“Is he okay?” Chris asked, his hazel eyes dazed.
“Agent Tanner is fine. He’ll testify in front of a sequestered panel, but his evidence is unassailable. He did a fine job in tough circumstances,” Orrin said simply.
“If he was undercover,” Nathan asked quietly, “what is his real name?”
“I can’t tell you,” Orrin replied.
“Can’t or won’t?” Buck growled. He was worried about how Chris had shut down at the unwelcome news.
Orrin sighed. “Buck, have you ever heard of ‘Need to know’?” his voice was tart, but he saw that Buck, a former Navy Seal, reluctantly understood.
“Since Mr. Tanner worked undercover,” Ezra said in his slow drawl, “his real identity has to be protected for fear of reprisal.” He felt disappointed in himself that he hadn’t discerned there was something clandestine about their brother in arms, though hindsight now provided him with obvious evidence that Vin was not who he presumed to be.
“We’re never going to see Vin again?” J.D. asked in protest.
Orrin was about to answer the question, then held his hand out towards Ezra. "Here would be your expert on that."
Ezra made a face. “No Mr. Dunne. Once you’ve finished an undercover assignment, you go back to your original existence, for your own protection,” he answered briefly.
He exchanged a worried look with Buck. He’d just gotten a good look at Chris’s devastated eyes as he’d leaned over to talk to J.D. Apparently Mr. Wilmington had been correct; their leader had unresolved feelings for their missing teammate. He owed his friend one hundred dollars, though he’d hoped to pay up in more felicitous circumstances than this.
“Brother Tanner wasn’t investigating us, was he?” Josiah asked the question that was in the back of all of their minds.
“No,” Orrin shook his head adamantly. “After the first month, he’d proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that Team 7 was clean,” he glanced at his watch. “We need clean up this monumental clusterfuck. Meetings start in one hour.”
“Yes, sir,” was quietly mumbled by the men of Team 7 as he left them to their thoughts.
Chris collapsed into Buck’s chair, barely feeling the comforting weight of his friend’s hand on his shoulder as his mind tried to grasp what had just happened to his world.
Back at the ranch after a horrendous day, Chris gazed at the stars. Why? Why hadn't Vin let him know what was going on? What had happened between the night of the ball and now? Didn’t Vin trust him? He knew that the younger man had feelings for him, but something had happened. Had he somehow pushed him away?
He groaned. God, it hurt so goddamned much.
***
2 weeks later-
Martin hung up his coat on the back of his chair, sighing a little as he glanced around. He was new at the New York City branch of the FBI Missing Persons division.
So far, he really liked his new co-workers. Intense, but funny Danny, beautiful and smart Sam, Vivian- the den mother, and of course his new boss, Jack Malone. Anyone his father despised must be okay, he thought with a grin
But he missed Denver fiercely, missed Team 7, their absence like a hole in his heart. Especially Chris. He’d fallen hard for his team leader. And he’d been so close to realizing his dream of being with the amazing man, but now he had to keep his distance to protect the man he loved and the men who were his brothers.
Martin walked over to the huge windows, letting the familiar skyline of New York City soothe him. He couldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy being back home, it’s just there wasn’t the hold on his heart that Denver had.
Then there was the fact that his father had pulled strings to have him assigned to New York. This had the unfortunate side effect of making people think that he’d been using his father’s influence when in fact the posting had been presented to him as a fait accompli. Damn it.
Martin rubbed his neck a little self consciously, smoothing the short hair there. He hadn’t expected to miss his long hair either. He sighed.
“Martin.”
Glancing over, he saw Vivian beckoning to him. A new job, a new life. He just hoped that his new team would see him for himself and what he could do, and not judge him because of his influential father. God, he missed Denver.
And Chris.
~*~
Nathan frowned at the table with its lone occupant, and its bottle and glass. He walked to the table where his other teammates were seated and looked meaningfully at Buck, who was staring at Chris.
Sensing Nathan’s concern, Buck glanced at his team mate and shrugged. “I don’t know, Nate,” he said in answer to the silent question.
Josiah shook his head as he too gazed at the somber man trying to drown himself in a bottle of whiskey. “Let’s go sit with him.”
Nathan, J.D. and Ezra gaped at their friend. “I don’t relish the thought of having my head bitten off, Mr. Sanchez,” Ezra said firmly.
“He’s right,” Buck said abruptly. He stood, shoving his chair back. He looked at his friends. “I meant Josiah. Chris needs us, and I for one ain’t gonna let him follow the path he took when Sarah and Adam died.”
Their conman nodded. “Very well. Into the breach, dear friends,” he quoted and stood resolutely.
“I don’t understand something,” J.D. began. “I mean, we all miss Vin. Why’s Chris takin’ it so hard?”
The older men all exchanged looks. They’d noticed the subtle dance between their team leader and their sharpshooter for some time, and all had seen the real emotions that had been invested.
“Shit, kid.” Buck sighed, scrubbing his face roughly. “We’re pretty sure that Chris and Vin were getting close, okay?” he didn’t want the younger man to freak, or worse.
J.D. stared in confusion, then his eyes rounded. “Oh. Oooohh!” he said as the light suddenly dawned. “Damn, poor Chris.”
Buck felt a moment of pure pride in his friend. The kid was so non-judgmental, even after as he’d found out that his team leader and the man he looked up to was possibly, hell, probably, gay.
Chris felt someone looking at him and he raised his head, finding several someone’s staring. “What?” he snarled.
J.D. sighed and shook his head, moving around the table to sit beside his team leader. “Drinking ain’t going to bring him back, Chris. The only thing I can figure is that he left because he had to, not because he wanted to.”
Chris stared at the youngest member of their team. “He left m…us. He didn’t trust us.”
Big hazel eyes under a flop of black bangs blinked, and the head slowly shook. “Nuh uh. I don’t believe that, and I’ll bet Josiah doesn’t believe it either.” J.D. looked solemnly over at Josiah.
“I believe that our youngest brother is correct, Mr. Larabee. As a seasoned undercover agent I believe that our Mr. Tanner was planning on staying much longer than he did,” Ezra ventured bravely under the sharp hazel stare of their teamleader.
“Is that right, Josiah?” Chris asked quietly, almost desperately. He needed to know that he hadn’t screwed up somehow.
Josiah eyed Chris thoughtfully. “I may be the profiler, but J.D. and Ezra have hit the nail on the head, Chris. I don’t believe for a minute that Vin wanted to leave, but that he felt he had to.”
END2-
2 1/2 years later-
Danny was looking for Martin, when he saw movement on the sheltered balcony. He stepped to the windows and smiled as he saw Sam and Martin, shoulder to shoulder.
It was about time. Sam needed to stop pining after Jack, and Martin needed to get a life outside of work. Besides, they looked good together, the handsome man from Harvard and the golden girl.
Danny snorted to himself and moved away to give them a little bit more time before the reality of the case intruded.
*~*
Albany, NY- Nathan
Nathan stood in line, waiting patiently to check in to the hotel. It was convention season and the Marriott was incredibly busy. As he gazed around, a familiar profile caught his attention. Nah, couldn’t be.
He narrowed his eyes- the man was apparently law enforcement since he was questioning one of the bellhops. The young man was shaking his head, scared out of his wits. The man turned to say something to the pretty blonde at his side and Nathan gasped. It was Vin!
Vin felt someone watching him, and he slowly scanned the busy area until he jolted. “Nathan!” he blurted in surprise.
“What?” Sam asked curiously.
Martin just stared, a smile starting to spread over his face. “I just saw someone I know. Hang on for a minute, would you?”
“Sure.” Sam was mystified.
Martin had been good. He’d rigidly kept himself from keeping track of his old friends and their lives, but seeing Nathan had broken through his carefully constructed shields. He would rather cut off his arm than turn away from his brother.
“Nate!”
“Hey Vin, how are you?” Nathan grabbed Martin in a bear hug, and Martin had to blink away sudden tears. He’d been afraid that the team would hate him for disappearing.
Martin squeezed Nathan hard before stepping back. “I’m fine,” he glanced around the lobby. “Is Rain with you?”
“No. She’s really busy this time of year and she couldn’t come.” Nathan made a face, and Martin grinned. Past experience told him Nathan’s beautiful wife had made a fuss about not being able to come with her husband.
“I seem to remember how she loved to go with you. Mostly to keep Buck from leading you astray.”
Nathan snorted. “I remember you did your fair share of leading astray.”
“Not me.” Martin protested with a laugh. “How are the boys?”
“We’re all pretty much the same, taking down the bad guys as usual,” Nathan shrugged. “We miss you.”
Martin nodded, then blurted out, “How’s Chris?”
There’d always been that spooky connection between their team leader and Vin, with Nathan and Josiah wondering if the emotions had made it even stronger.
“He’s missed you most of all.”
Pain twisted Martin’s heart.
“I miss all of you so damn much,” he said softly. The knowledge in Nathan's brown eyes made him want to fidget. It was almost a relief when his phone vibrated against his waist. “I’ve got to go Nathan, but you tell everyone ‘hey’ for me.”
Nathan took his arm before he could walk away. “Everything okay with you, Vin?” This was a question from brother to brother, and Martin couldn’t lie.
“I’m okay. I have a good job, and I’m not in any trouble or anything,” Martin quickly squeezed Nathan's hand then moved off to answer his phone. “Yeah Danny, what do you have?” He resisted turning to stare at his old friend, forcibly putting his head back in the game.
As Nathan watched, he catalogued the differences he could see between Vin Tanner and this self assured, impeccably dressed young man, whose northeastern accent was entirely different from Vin’s down to earth Texas one. It was almost like they were two entirely different men, but Nathan’s heart still called him ‘brother’
Later that night Martin had gone home alone, case solved and a commendation in his records. But he wasn’t thinking about that, he was staring at the stars thinking about Denver, his brothers-
and Chris.
Denver, CO.
Nathan walked in and Team 7 called out welcomes. Hearing the commotion, Chris opened his door and smiled. “Hey Nathan, welcome back. How was the lecture?”
Nathan smiled, but he knew it didn’t reach his eyes. “It went fine.”
“Everything okay?” Chris asked, hazel eyes watchful.
Damn, the man was sharp, Nathan thought. “Yeah, just tired. Hate airports,” he replied, mentally crossing his fingers because it wasn’t the whole truth.
Chris must have bought it because he only laughed. “I can relate. Reports can wait until you’ve seen Rain. Glad you’re back,” he said and disappeared back into his office
Nathan smiled and told everyone hello before catching Josiah’s eye. When everyone went back to work, he moseyed to the coffee room, Josiah following behind and shutting the door.
“What’s on your mind, brother?” Josiah asked quietly as he poured first his friend, then himself some coffee.
“I saw Vin.”
Josiah swung around in surprise. “You did, how is he? Better yet, where is he?”
Nathan slid into one of the folding chairs. “He’s in New York, and he looks good. I almost didn’t recognize him, he has short hair, almost a crew cut,” he laughed at Josiah’s surprise. “Tell me. And he was dressed in one of those suits that Ez wears, and there was no accent. He was, polished, I guess you could say.”
“Not a word you’d associate with Vin,” Josiah agreed.
Nathan sipped the coffee that Josiah gave him, staring into space for moment. “He’s in law enforcement.”
Josiah nodded. “That’s not much a stretch. You think local or Fed?”
“I don’t know. We only talked for about five minutes, it looked like he was in the middle of a case. His partner was a beautiful blond with legs up to here, though,” Nathan grinned holding up hand to indicate very tall. He shook his head. “He asked about Chris.”
There was a long silence, then Nathan looked up into Josiah’s understanding eyes. The team had missed Vin these past three years. Even now, someone would say, ‘Remember when Vin did…' it was like a body with a limb missing, and for their leader the phantom pain was all too real.
“Should I tell the boys?”
“Yes,” Josiah answered without hesitation. “I think it would do Chris a world of good. Though maybe you shouldn’t mention the blond.”
New York City- Ezra
Maude watched with barely concealed pride as Ezra headed towards her table. He was such a handsome boy, and despite his deplorable tendency to be a do-gooder, she was very proud of him. “Hello, son.”
“Hello mother. You’re looking beautiful as always,” Ezra said with a kiss to his mother’s perfectly made up cheek. He caught a whiff of a new perfume and leaned back. “That is a lovely scent.”
She smiled as he sat down across from her. “It’s French, a gift from Mr. Von Hauken.”
“Ah, he has impeccable taste. How is my esteemed step-father?”
Ezra had cordially detested every one of his step-fathers, though Harald Von Hauken was the least objectionable since he hadn’t try to buy Ezra’s affections.
Maude shrugged delicately. “He’s out making more money for me to spend,” mother and son’s eyes met in perfect understanding.
They ordered and were chatting about inconsequential things as they ate, when Ezra choked and dropped his fork in surprise. Maude looked at her son and this very un-Ezra like behavior. “Son?”
Ezra looked at his mother, his green eyes startled. “I do believe I have spotted someone I never expected to see again. Excuse me, mother. I’m going to say hello.” Maude watched with curiosity as her son walked over to a table with two handsome men, and then it struck her. She too recognized the younger man.
Martin took a long drink of his water and picked up his napkin to wipe his mouth when out of the corner of his eye he caught movement.
“My, my. Mistah Tanner, this is the last place that I expected to run into you,” drawled a very well remembered voice.
Martin looked up, then grinned and stood up. “Ez, how are you?”
Ezra shook Martin’s hand, then pulled his old friend into a hug. “Good Lord Vin, it’s so damn good to see you,” he’d sorely missed the sharpshooter. Seeing him now though was like seeing an image superimposed over his old friend. This Vin was wearing a beautifully tailored suit, his short hair seemingly incongruous with the man he'd known. The lack of accent was also very disconcerting.
The two men pulled back, and the man still at the table cleared his throat. Martin winced. “Sorry, Mike. Mike, this is an old friend of mine, Ezra. Ezra, this is my cousin Mike. He’s a banker here in the city.” He purposely kept the introductions vague.
“I like bankers.” Ezra said, tongue in cheek, making Martin laugh. Ezra was well known in Team 7 for his fondness for anything and everything related to money.
Mike was surprised to see how happy his usually normally buttoned up and reserved cousin was with this man. He’d never seen him this easy with anyone he knew, except a few chosen relatives.
Knowing what Martin and his uncle did for a living, he took Martin’s cue and didn’t volunteer any information. “I’m pleased to meet you.” The two men shook hands genially.
"As am I." Ezra replied before turning to smile at Martin.
“What are you doing here?” Martin asked Ezra.
“Mother flew in from Europe and I took a couple of days off to meet her. Come and say hello, she’d love to see you.”
Maude watched as the men walked towards her. She mentally contrasted this clean cut, beautifully dressed man with the scruffy Texan she’d grown fond of in Denver. It was an amazing, if slightly disturbing transformation. “Vin Tanner, what a surprise! It’s so good to see you,” she said gracefully as he kissed her cheek.
“And you’re as gorgeous as ever, Mrs. Von Hauken.” Maude was wearing an obviously expensive peach pantsuit and her blond hair was impeccably coiffed, and she looked nowhere near old enough to be Ezra’s mother. She had that timeless kind of beauty that money only enhanced.
“Would you like to sit down?” she offered graciously. She wanted to satisfy her curiosity, but was disappointed when he shook his head.
“Thank you but I’m having dinner with my cousin. It’s wonderful to see you though.” Martin faced Ezra, opened his mouth but couldn’t find anything to say. He pleaded with his eyes for his old friend to understand.
Ezra smiled crookedly. “It’s all right. If anyone understands what you had to do, it is I. Just know that we miss you alarmingly. Nathan’s seeing you made everyone’s day.”
“Thanks Ez.” Martin shook Ezra’s hand, then walked back to his table, feeling like there was an invisible link between him and his old teammate. Meeting Ezra like this, he knew that even with his abrupt departure from Team 7, it still had left him with unbroken ties.
Mike eyed his cousin as he sat back down. “I like him.”
Martin snorted. “It’s not like that.” His cousin was one of the few people that knew he liked both women and men. “Besides, I’m going out with Sam. Ezra’s just an old friend.”
“I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. Including when you speak about Sam.” Mike pointed out softly.
Martin threw a wistful look over his shoulder. “It’s a long story, Mike.”
No one noticed the man who was watching the diners with a speculative look. The man wrote something down, then left the restaurant.
Denver, CO -Josiah
Martin flipped on the T.V. as he grabbed a cup of coffee from his kitchen. The news on the screen made him freeze, his coffee cup halfway to his mouth. “No, oh no,” he set the coffee cup down, not paying attention as it slopped over the side onto the granite countertop. Grabbing his phone, he paused for a long second then he dialed.
Josiah was in the waiting room along with the rest of Team 7 to see how badly Chris had been hurt. Nathan was trying to get information out of the surgical nurse as Buck paced distractedly. while J.D. and Ezra played a hand of cards to pass the time.
The raid on the suspected terrorist hideout had yielded 15 terrorists, more than a ton of weapons and bomb making equipment. It had almost gone off without a hitch, until one of the terrorists grabbed a local cop as a hostage. Chris had reacted immediately, stepping into the open to shoot the bad guy, and had gotten hit himself. His teamleader’s scream was going to haunt his dreams for awhile.
The bad guy died, and now Chris was in surgery for a bullet to the shoulder.
His cellphone rang and he stepped out of the waiting room to answer it. “Sanchez.”
“Josiah?”
Ah, their lost lamb. “Brother Vin, how are you?”
Martin sank to his couch. “I’m okay, how’s Chris?” His heart was beating a mile a minute. Chris couldn’t die, because if he did Martin had a feeling that his heart would too.
Josiah smiled. “It does seem like something is amiss without you holding vigil with us.”
The word ‘vigil’ made Martin’s breath hitch. “Please, Josiah…”
Hearing a commotion in the waiting room, Josiah said, “Hang on a minute, Vin. The doctor just came in,” he went into the waiting room to listen.
The weary man in scrubs gave them a tired smile. “Hey, guys. Chris came through the surgery great. He has a broken collarbone, but the bullet missed the major nerves and arteries. He’ll need rest and physical therapy, of course,” the doctor finished, his eyes going to Nathan who nodded.
Josiah raised the phone to his ear. “Vin, did you hear that? The doc says he’s gonna be fine.”
Team 7 turned as one to gape at him, and the doctor scowled. “Mr. Sanchez, you need to turn off your cell phone in the hospital.”
Josiah nodded absently. “Listen, Vin. I have to go, but rest assured that Chris will be fine.”
Martin sighed with relief. “Thanks ‘Siah. Tell him…tell him to get better soon,” he hadn’t realized he’d reverted to the old nickname as he closed the phone and leaned his head back against his couch, trying to calm the pounding in his heart.
Josiah had noticed, and was inexplicably touched. He turned his phone off and turned to his team mates. “That was Vin,” he said unnecessarily. “He called to check up on Chris.”
Buck grinned and slapped J.D. on the shoulder. “Told ya he still cared! He’s keepin’ tabs on us.”
“Either that or he was watching television, Mr. Wilmington,” Ezra pointed out dryly. It had become a high profile bust and they’d already kicked out several journalists as they’d waited.
“Does anyone want to see Mr. Larabee?” A nurse asked from the doorway.
Buck smiled. “Hey Mary Jo, did you lose weight?” he flirted outrageously as she led them down to see Chris in recovery.
Chris was in that twilight sleep, when you were aware of people around you, but couldn’t do anything to shut ‘em up. He’d figured out he was either in the seventh circle of hell or in the hospital, but couldn’t remember why.
“Come on, stud. You’ve been sleeping on the job. You’d never guess who called to check up on ya!” Buck said cheerfully.
Get to the point, Chris thought with affectionate exasperation as he struggled to open his eyes.
“Yeah, Josiah got this phone call while we were waitin’ to see if you’d be okay. I’ll bet you’ll never guess.”
“Would ya tell me already?” Chris muttered, opening his eyes to glare at his friend.
Buck grinned. “It was Vin.”
END 3
New York City-
The dead little girl was just another sign of how Martin was screwed up. If he’d been faster, smarter…
“It’s not your fault, Fitz. The coroner said she’d dead for more than 8 hours.”
“Why, Danny? She was only 8 years old. Why kill her?” Martin asked, his voice hoarse from suppressing his rage at his failure.
Danny gripped his friends shoulder, even as he looked over at Jack. The older man blamed himself too, though it was no ones fault. By the time they’d put the clues together the little girl had been dead for over four hours, then it had taken them four hours to find her. The killer didn’t give her a chance.
“It’s not your fault. C’mon, let’s get some air,” he led his friend out of the stifling house that still smelled like death, and out into the bright sunshine. Outside, Danny didn’t move from Martin’s side, just stood by as Martin took deep breaths to clean the stench out of his nostrils.
“Did you see Jack’s face when we found her? She looks like his Hannah,” Danny murmured. “He was spooked.”
Martin rubbed his hands over his tired face. “Yeah, I know. I saw the resemblance in the beginning, I think it’s why he…” he trailed off, unable to say it.
“Why he trusted you to take over from him,” Danny finished. He and Sam had been working on another case, and Viv was sick at home when Jack assigned this case to Martin. “You did good, Martin, never doubt it. We’ve got the creep in custody; he won’t kill anymore little girls.”
Martin looked up as Jack and Sam came out. Saw Sam speak softly to Jack, could see the unresolved feelings in both of their faces, and hated himself even more. He was screwing up professionally and personally.
Jack walked over, his dark eyes weary. “Good job, Martin.”
“Good job? She’s dead, Jack!”
Jack’s eyes sharpened and he saw the acute distress his younger agent was in. “And it wasn’t your fault. Go home Martin, you can make your report tomorrow.”
Sam stepped up. “I’ll take him home, Jack.”
“No!” Martin snapped. “I’m going to finish up here,” he ignored the hurt in Sam's eyes.
Seeing the younger man’s resolve, Jack nodded. “Okay, but then you’re going home. Understand?”
“Yeah, I understand.”
After the case was wrapped up, Jack reiterated his order for Martin to take time off. Martin had, practically barricading himself in his apartment, not answering his phone for two solid days.
*
Loud pounding on his door jerked Martin awake. Disoriented, he almost landed on the floor as he rolled off of his couch, cursing viciously as he opened the door.
“I thought I paid my dues to keep the riff raff out of the building,” he told his unwanted guest.
“Har har.” Danny said as he walked into the luxury apartment, a large bag in his arms.
“What are you doing here?” Martin asked, leaning in the kitchen door to watch his friend set the bag onto the countertop.
“I’m here to get you drunk.” Danny said bluntly.
“Oh goody, something I haven’t thought of.” He actually had, but that generally was more Vin’s style than his own.
“Shut up, Martin,” Danny handed Martin a beer, grabbed an apple juice for himself plus a bottle of scotch, a tumbler and a bag of pretzels then herded his friend into the living room. He poured the scotch, handing it over.
“Down the hatch,” watching as Martin shotgunned it. He knew his counselor at AA probably have a cow, but something had to be done to get Martin to open up.
Danny took a sip of his juice and eyed his friend. “What the fuck is going on with you, Fitz? Sam says you won’t return her calls.”
Martin stared at Danny for a long moment. Aside from Team 7, he knew he could count on Danny to keep his mouth shut. “Did you know I’m gay?” and laughed as Danny spit his apple juice all over the coffee table.
The two men cleaned the table up and sat back down. Danny shook his finger in Martin’s face. “You suck, that was not funny.”
“Okay. I was wrong, I guess technically I’m bi, but I like guys more.”
Danny stared at Martin, not seeing any humor in his friend’s eyes. “Okay, I’ll play your warped game. Since when?”
“Since I was about fifteen.”
“Huh.” Danny drank the rest of his apple juice, went into the kitchen and poured himself more before coming back to sit. “What about Sam?”
Looking a little guilty, Martin took a long drink of his beer. “She’s a great person and a good friend. I was lonely, she was there.”
“Being friends isn’t the worse basis for a relationship,” Danny said quietly.
“It is when you’re in love with someone else,” Martin made a face. “And she is too.”
“All right. We both know who Sam’s in love with. What about you?”
Martin decided to pour himself more scotch. What his grandmother always called 'Dutch courage'. He eyed the amber liquid for a long moment then tossed it back. Ah, now he was feeling it. “Do you know what I did before I came to New York?”
Danny grabbed the bag of pretzels and popped one in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Well, the rumor is that you worked out west and your father pulled strings to get you assigned here to take over since he doesn’t like Jack.”
Martin snorted. “You’re half right. After Seattle I jumped for a chance to work undercover. I was a sniper with the ATF in Denver for three years. I finished my assignment, fell for my team leader and wanted to stay. Somehow my dad found out, predictably freaked and pulled strings everywhere to get me assigned to New York. To keep me under his thumb, I’m sure. I’m not nearly senior enough to take Jack’s job, though.”
Danny nodded, absorbing all of this new and admittedly startling information about his friend. “Let me guess, your team leader was a guy.”
Martin laughed bitterly. “And that’s why they pay ya the big bucks.”
“Then using my much vaunted detective skills, I deduce your dad wasn’t happy about it,” Danny said quietly.
“Not so much. He wants grandchildren,” Martin stood and walked over to the windows to stare out. “I feel like I’ve fucked up my life. I let that little girl down, I’ve led Sam on when I know I don’t love her, and I’m actually upset that I’m letting my father down. Can you believe it?”
“Okay, first of all, you didn’t let Amanda Kelly down. You did the best you could with the information we had. We caught the guy, you did a great job!” Danny got up and went to stand by his friend. “Now with Sam, you’re on your own. And as for your dad, he should be happy if you’re happy.”
“You don’t care if I’m gay?” Martin asked.
Danny slapped Martin on the back. “You’re my friend, Fitz. I don’t care if you prance around in a tu-tu,” he grinned at his friend’s snort “… or if you're straight.” He looked at Martin for a long moment. “Does he like you back?”
Martin didn’t pretend that he didn’t know who Danny was talking about. “It’s too late.”
~*~
Sam walked into the bar, smiling when she saw Martin waiting for her at a table. Gorgeous. Every time she saw him she thought the same thing, the boyish smile and blue eyes in that manly face. He wasn’t Jack, but he was hers. “Hey.”
“Hi, Sam.”
Martin stood politely, helping her with her coat. They sat down and the waitress came with their drinks. Another thing that Sam liked about him, he knew how to treat a woman.
Sam took a sip of hers then set down her glass. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I needed time to process.”
The week since Chris’s injury and the loss of Amanda Kelly had opened his eyes to the fact that life was short and if he wanted to be happy, he needed to make some changes. Starting with his lovelife.
“Martin, what’s going on?” Sam asked quietly.
The waitress chose that moment to interrupt to see if they needed refills. “Coffee, please,” he still had a headache from tying one on the night before, thanks to Danny. Once she was gone, Martin took a bracing sip, then blurted, “I don’t think our relationship is going to go anywhere.”
Sam blinked in surprise. “I thought we were doing great.”
Seeing that she was serious, Martin reached across to take her hand in his. “Sam, we’ve been together for six months. You still sleep at your place, I sleep at mine. I don’t think I’ve got anything beside a toothbrush at your place, and I don’t have even a picture of you around. What we have isn’t a relationship; it’s called ‘friends with benefits’.”
"Martin, that doesn't mean anything. We're busy people," she protested, then saw the look in his eyes. “But that’s not enough for you.”
“Not anymore.”
“You’re breaking up with me?”
“I think it’s for the best.” Martin said softly.
Sam was in shock. She had known that their relationship wasn’t headed for marriage, but it had worked for them, or so she thought. And the sex had been fabulous.
“You know there’s nothing between Jack and I,” she felt compelled to say.
“I know, but there could be. Marie is giving him a divorce, you should go for it.”
Sudden tears caught Sam by surprise, and she smiled in spite of herself as Martin panicked and fumbled for his handkerchief.
“I’m okay,” she said and wiped her eyes with the elegant piece of cloth. It smelled like the cologne he always wore, slightly woodsy with a musk undertone. Tucking it into her pocket, Sam flipped her hair back and sighed.
“I’m really sorry, Sam.”
Sam knew he was sorry, it was another reason why she liked him. There wasn’t a mean bone in his body. She gazed at him, thinking again how handsome he was. “I am, too. But, we’re not going to let this get awkward, right? I mean, we’re still going to be friends?”
Martin smiled. “Oh, yeah. You can bet on it.”
Washington D.C.- J.D.
Martin’s muscled arms pumped rhythmically as he jogged around the reflecting pool on the Mall. He was totally unaware of the admiring looks from both men and women that he received; not realizing the ragged cut-off shorts and the Grateful Dead muscle-t made him look pretty damn hot.
He automatically dodged the crowd of chattering Japanese tourists, shaking the sweat out of his eyes and continued on. The humidity of Washington D.C. in the summer was brutal and today was no exception.
Still, Martin reflected, it was better baking his brains out among the tourists than to be interrogated by his father.
After finishing the paperwork for the Amanda Kelly case, Jack had ordered him to take some time off. He’d taken leave and gone to D.C. where he’d been having an enjoyable visit with his favorite Aunt and Uncle when his father had ‘dropped’ by, to discuss his break up with Sam. His father knew he was bi, but had been hoping that his son would find some nice girl to settle down with. Apparently Sam qualified, even if she had slept with Jack Malone.
Glancing at his watch, Martin calculated how much longer he’d have to stay out here until his father took the hint and went back to work.
A vendor hawking bottled water caught his eye and he slowed his jog, stopping to kneel down and grab a couple of bucks out of the pocket in his running shoes. He paid for the water then walked around yet another tourist, this one trying to feed one of the many squirrels. Martin smiled as the suspicious squirrel cautiously eyed the tourist, then grabbed the cracker and ran off. The shade of one of the huge oaks made him sigh in relief and he began to guzzle his water.
“Vin?” At first the name didn’t register then a very familiar face was standing in front of him.
“J.D.!” Martin grinned, shaking hands with the youngest member of Team 7.
“I’d hug ya but you’re sweaty,” the younger man teased.
“Huh, so that’s what happens when I jog!” he laughed as J.D. rolled his eyes.
“Wow. Nathan and Ezra said your hair was short, but I still almost didn’t recognize you!” J.D. grinned, pleased with himself.
Martin smiled back. J.D. hadn’t changed a bit. He was wearing an Invader Zim t-shirt, cargo shorts and tennis shoes and still looked all of 12 with the same zest for life and ferocious intelligence shining out of his eyes.
“You look great, kid. How’s Casey?”
Those eyes lit up. “Casey’s great! We’re getting married in September. Hey, I’m glad I ran into you. We want you to be there!”
Wincing, Martin shook his head. “Um, I don’t know J.D.”
J.D held up a hand. “I know, Ezra explained it to me. Did anyone tell you that you did a good job?”
No, no one had. “Thanks, J.D. That means a lot.” Martin scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I’ll see how things go. My job keeps me pretty busy.”
“Yeah, about that. Nathan said you’re still in law enforcement. What are you doin’ now?”
Martin eyed his curious friend with a wry smile, “I work in New York City. It’s a federal job. I can’t say more, and it’s not that I don’t trust you…”
“I know. It’s part of the job,” J.D. said quietly. Actually with his computer skills he could probably figure it out, now that he knew Vin was a Fed, but he’d respect his friend’s privacy.
“How is everyone?” Martin changed the subject, and he could see J.D. accept the evasion for what it was.
“Well, after you left it was tough. We missed you, ^miss^ you a lot,” he adjusted his backpack before he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Physically we’re all doing fine.”
“What do mean, ‘physically’?” Martin demanded.
“Chris took your loss hard.” J.D. said simply. “He started to take a more active role in our ops, then he began to take stupid chances. The last time was when you called Josiah.”
“Damn it. Can’t Buck do something?”
J.D. shrugged, inwardly pleased that Vin wasn’t unaffected by his old team “Aside from sitting on him? You were the only one who could talk him around.”
Martin’s phone buzzed at his waist. He checked the number and made a face. “Sorry J.D. I need to take this.”
He turned slightly. “Hello, Dad.”
“Martin, where are you?” came his father’s indignant voice.
“I’m at the Mall.”
The senior Fitzgerald sighed impatiently. “I have to head to New York. I assume you won’t be back before I leave.”
“Guess not,” Martin said cheerfully. “Tell Mother that I said hello,” he added politely.
“You can tell her yourself,” his father sniped, reminding Martin forcefully that if he’d been a dutiful son he’d have seen his mother already. He didn’t reply to the dig, just rubbed his forehead.
“You’re being very childish, Martin.”
Martin rolled his eyes. “Dad, you interrupted my vacation to talk about something I already made my feelings very clear on. My relationships are absolutely none of yours or mother’s business.”
“Martin…”
“Maybe I’ll see you in New York, dad.” Martin snapped the phone closed with a little more force than necessary.
“Real close to your family, huh?” J.D. asked, tongue in cheek.
“Some of them yes. My mom and dad? Not so much,” Martin admitted with a half smile.
“I get ya,” J.D. didn’t have any family beside Team 7, but his Casey had Nettie, and that said everything.
Martin finished his water, “J.D., there’s someone I need to talk to first, but if he says what I think he’s going to say, then maybe I can come to your wedding.”
J.D. held out his hand. “That’s all I ask. See you at the wedding, Vin,” he said cheekily.
“I miss ya, kid.” Martin said roughly, the hint of Texas coming through in the honest emotion.
“Me, too.”
“Tell Casey and Nettie and the boys I said hi.”
“I will.”
Denver, CO.
The boys were at their favorite bar celebrating J.D.’s graduation with a perfect score from the latest ATF course he’d taken in D.C. J.D. was halfway to three sheets to the wind.
“Guess who I saw? I’ll bet you’ll never guess.” J.D. slurred the last word, and frowned at himself. Unfortunately, even at twenty four it just made him look cute and puppy-eyed.
“Who did you see, the President?” Buck teased his room-mate.
J.D. shook his head, a mysterious smile crossing his face. “Guess.”
Buck had a sudden sneaking suspicion that he knew. “C’mon J.D., who was it? The Pope?”
“Nuh uh, it was Vin!”
There was a stunned silence then Buck boomed out a laugh. “Damn, but that boy moves around!”
“How did he look, J.D.?” Nathan asked. Chris was glad, because it seemed like his heart was caught in his throat.
“Looked weird.”
Ezra smirked at this drunken lack of succinct description. “Weird in what fashion, Mr. Dunne?”
J.D. blinked owlishly. “He’s got short hair. Almost like an Army cut. And bigger muscles.”
Buck caught him as he began to sway in his seat. “Whoa! You’re done, kid. Let’s get you home.”
“Wait!” J.D. struggled to stand upright. “He said he’s gonna talk to someone and maybe come to Casey’s and my wedding!”
“That’s great news, J.D. You need some help with him, Buck?” Josiah asked with a laugh as J.D. almost slithered to the sticky wooden floor.
Buck grinned as he hoisted the younger man up. “Nah, kid never could hold his liquor. This is how I work out on weekends,” he laughed as his roommate pouted at him. “You boys should hang out some more, it’s early yet,” he waved and managed to get J.D. out of the door without bouncing off of it.
Chris poured himself some whiskey as he pondered this latest news. He wasn’t sure if it was a terrible thing or a wonderful thing when one of the boys mentioned that they’d seen Vin. That they’d been close enough to see he’d cut his hair, to see if he was happy…
Maybe what bugged him was he hadn’t really known Vin at all. He didn’t know if anything that had been in Vin’s records was true. Didn’t know about his family, where he was from or if, God forbid, he’d left a girlfriend behind. If he missed Chris as much as Chris missed him.
Nothing.
“He’s still the same man, Chris. Just his vital statistics are different,” Josiah said wisely, as if he had read Chris’s mind.
“You know…” Chris began, a grin trying to sneak out. “Sometimes you creep me out, Josiah.”
Josiah just smiled serenely. “That’s why I’m the profiler.”
END4
3 weeks later-
J.D. was worried. Ezra had been undercover for almost 3 weeks, and hadn’t checked in for the past 3 days. Two was really rare, but it had happened. Three? Just no way. Ezra was way too anal about checking in, especially after Chris, Vin and Nathan had read him the riot act several years ago when he'd almost gotten himself killed on an undercover assignment gone bad.
Setting up an e-mail account that Ezra could access by computer, cellphone or his Blackberry had been a piece of proverbial cake for J.D. And Ezra faithfully e-mailed everyday. Until now.
“Buck?”
Buck impatiently raised his head from the report he was currently buried in. “Yeah, kid?”
“It’s been 3 days.”
Report forgotten, Buck rolled to his own computer and checked his e-mail. “Nuthin’ here. Hey, boys!” he called to the room at large. “Everyone check their e-mails for somethin’ from Ezra.”
Josiah checked his own e-mail and then strode to Chris’s door, opening it after a brisk knock. “Check for an e-mail from brother Ezra.”
Buck grinned when Chris grumbled the familiar refrain of- “You can’t just wait until I say ‘come in’?”
“Nope.” Josiah agreed.
Chris checked then looked up at Josiah. “No. Nothing here either. Get J.D. to track Ezra’s last credit card purchases.”
J.D.’s voice floated through the doorway. “Already on it, Chris!”
It took him less than an hour to trace Ezra, under his latest alias, to New York City.
24 Hours Missing
Sam glanced up when the elevator opened and couldn’t suppress a spurt of interest when two absolutely gorgeous men stepped out. The one who caught her attention first was the dark blonde man dressed all in black. He exuded danger, his sharp gaze sweeping the office and cataloguing everything in the blink of an eye before heading directly towards Jack’s office. The ring of his cowboy boots on the tile floors brought the thought of an old west gunslinger into mind.
The man beside him was just as striking. Tall, lean with dark hair and a mustache, wearing blue jeans and a grey University of Colorado t-shirt. His cowboy boots rang in concert with the other man as they strode to Jack’s door. The man in black knocked once, then let himself in.
Sam looked at Danny in surprise, and he shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’ll bet Jack will tell us in a minute.”
*
Jack looked up from the information he’d gathered on their latest missing person to study the two men who’d ignored his closed door.
“You must be ATF,” he said dryly.
Chris nodded sharply. “My name is Agent Chris Larabee, I’m head of Team 7. This is Agent Buck Wilmington, my second in command.”
Jack stood and held out his hand. “I’m Special Agent Jack Malone.” the three men shook hands, then Jack signaled for them to sit. “Not that I’m not glad to meet you, but you don’t have to hold our hands. We do this for a living.”
Buck shook his head. “We’re not here to get underfoot Agent Malone, but we are gonna stay until we find Ez.”
Jack looked at the men for a long moment, then nodded. He wasn’t offended because he knew he’d do the same for any of his people. “I understand. Follow me.”
In the outer office, both Danny and Sam looked up curiously. "There are members of my team, Agents Danny Taylor and Samantha Spade." Jack said in introduction. "Danny, Sam, these are Agents Chris Larabee and Buck Wilmington of the ATF. They work with our missing person."
The four of them shook hands and Chris caught the surprised knowledge that flashed across Taylor's face as they'd shaken hands and wondered what that was all about.
Jack led them out to the board with its picture of Agent Ezra Standish. It was a professionally done, with their missing person in a Louis Vuitton suit and very obviously not an official ATF photo.
Buck chuckled. “Did ya know he was using that photo in his records?”
Chris sighed. “He said if it was good enough for Maude then it was good enough for the government.”
“Who is Maude?” Jack pounced on the unknown name.
Buck answered with a wry smile. “That’s Ezra’s mama, Maude Standish, with a couple or three marriages in between, Von Hauken. She’s livin’ in Europe, and before ya ask we’ve already called her and she ain’t heard from him.” And did she ever give them holy hell for losing her baby boy.
Jack nodded, glancing over at Danny who had already written the information down. “It’s been twenty fours hours since he’s been seen according to the security tapes from Trump Plaza. By the way, I’ve been making phone calls all morning to get more information released on Agent’s Standish’s cases…” the dry note made ATF leader snort.
“Didn’t get anywhere, did you?” Chris said knowingly.
“Turf wars.” Jack agreed snidely. “You’d think they didn’t care to get their agent back.”
“^We^ care,” Chris said simply.
“How refreshing,” came a woman’s dry voice.
The men all stood and Buck grinned widely. “Whoo whee, all the pretty ladies must work for the FBI.”
Jack chuckled as Vivian gave the man her most disbelieving face. “Viv, meet Agents Larabee and Wilmington of the ATF. Gentlemen, this is Special Agent Vivian Johnson.”
Buck held out his hand. “Just call me Buck.”
Vivian could only smile at the flirtatious man. “Nice to meet you both,” she shook their hands then looked at Jack.
“Martin’s on his way in with the witness in the Lyon’s case. As soon as he drops her off he’ll be up.”
Jack nodded. “All right. Let’s get started.”
*~*
Ezra groaned as he was jostled. His body hurt from the tips of his leather shod toes to the top of his head. In fact, if he were to be truthful with himself, he believed that even his hair was causing him considerable discomfort as well.
“Be careful of him. We need him alive.”
Alive? Ezra opened his eyes to focus blearily on the man’s legs in front of him. There was something wrong with his balance, his chest felt heavy and he couldn’t stop swaying.
“Ah, Agent Standish. Awake now?”
“Must you speak so loudly?” Ezra complained, trying to get his focus back. He was jostled and set into a chair, the sound of duct tape registering in his ears. The voice seemed familiar but the pounding in his head was preventing him from thinking straight. Trying to get his bearings, he glanced around to survey his surroundings, a moue of distaste on his face.
“What’s the matter? The accommodations not to your liking?”
“No, I don’t believe that they are.” Ezra replied flippantly.
“Tough.” A fist came out of nowhere and snapped Ezra’s head back.
“Who are you?” he asked after his eyes uncrossed. He was starting to get concerned now, the man kept referring to him as Agent Standish, and he was reasonably sure that he’d been undercover.
There was an ugly laugh and fingers gripped his chin, lifting it up. Ezra was forced to look into the watery blue eyes that burned with hate. “Remember me now?”
“Mr. Carlyle, I thought you were in prison for murder.” Ezra said quietly. Oh yes, he remembered the man now. A brutal murderer of fellow law enforcement professionals, many with young children at home. He could see the withered hand that was the result from the injury the man had received from Vin, and the sudden knowledge made him curse inwardly. His meeting must have been with one of the man’s associates, which meant that it had been a set up from the start. Bloody hell.
“I found prison over-rated and the accommodations too confining.” Luke Carlyle, convicted burglar and murderer said brightly. “Isn’t that right, Marcus?”
Ezra glanced blandly at the man he’d met with, before drawling contemptuously, “I always felt that it was too bad that Mistah Tanner didn’t kill you when he had the chance.”
DeRyan waded in and punched Ezra, snapping his head back. “Fucking son of a bitch. I oughtta shoot him now, then blow up his fucking body!” he howled. The ATF agent never replied, the punch had knocked him out.
Carlyle stared at the unconscious man duct-taped to the chair. “No Marcus, here’s what we’ll do. When he awakens, take a picture of him with today's paper and send it to the FBI Missing Persons in care of Agent Martin Fitzgerald,” he ordered.
~*~
30 Hours Missing
Chris was in Jack's office while Buck was in the common area, chatting up and generally flirting with Sam and Viv as they worked together on Ezra's case. Suddenly Buck stiffened, the movement caught by Chris through the glass.
Martin stepped off of the elevator into the relative peace of Missing Persons and didn’t bother to stifle his sigh of relief. The witness had danced on his last nerve and he’d spent the last three hours longing for his sniper rifle. Five minutes with the witness and no jury in the world would convict him.
“Hol-y shit! Vin?”
“Buck?” Martin’s voice went up in complete and utter shock. He stared and was stared at, then both men broke into laughter and met in between desks, giving each other bear hugs.
“God, how are you?” he asked his old friend as they stepped back to grin stupidly at each other.
Buck ran an irreverent hand over Martin’s hair. “I’m good. What’s with the buzzcut, Junior?”
Junior. It had been too long since he’d heard himself called that. It wrapped around his heart and squeezed.
“I’m a Feebie, have to conform.” Martin said with a laugh, then suddenly his face went dead white as he realized why Buck would be there. “Buck, who is missing? Ohgod, it’s not Chris?” his voice almost stuttered with fear.
The full-blown panic in his old friend’s voice made Buck grabs him by his arms. “Hey now, Junior. Settle down, it ain’t…”
“Vin?” a hoarse voice called.
Martin’s head snapped around and he literally thought his heart had stopped. He never felt Buck release him, didn’t realize the emotion that showed naked on his face, or how his eyes lit up. “Ohgod, Chris?”
Chris didn’t remember who moved first, but it didn’t matter. He could feel Vin’s heart thundering against his chest, could feel trembling, though that could’ve been either one of them, could feel lips gently pressed against his neck and he knew. Knew, at that moment he’d never let this man go again. He pressed his cheek to Vin’s hair and inhaled, tears tightening his throat.
“I take it you two know each other, Agent Fitzgerald?” came Jack’s dry voice.
Martin reluctantly pulled his face out of Chris’s neck, sensing the same hesitance in the other man. “Yeah, you could say I know him,” he smiled at Chris even though he could feel the pink in his face as he glanced at his boss. “I worked an undercover stint with the ATF before I moved here.”
Chris hated to let Vin go, but the cheerful knowing grin on Buck’s face and the speculative looks on Vin’s co-workers faces made him step back. He pulled together his self-control, not wanting to cause trouble for the man he loved.
“Fitzgerald?” Buck asked curiously. “I guess your name really isn’t Vin?”
Martin smiled. “Well, yes and no. My full name is Martin Vincent Fitzgerald. I used my grandmother’s maiden name of Tanner when I was in Denver.”
Knowing how Ezra operated, this made sense to Buck. “It’s easier to remember a name that’s familiar. That’s why ya never slipped," he said thoughtfully.
"What do you like to be called now?” Chris asked.
Martin wanted nothing more than to hear his own name fall from Chris’s lips. “Call me Martin or Fitz,” he glanced over at the board that was slightly turned away from him. “So, why are you both here? Someone is missing, aren’t they?”
“Ezra.” Chris answered quietly. He was aware of Jack Malone’s scrutiny, as he was physically unable to look away from Vin. Shit. Martin.
Martin walked to the board and checked it over. He had to smile at the formal picture of his friend, Louis Vuitton suit and all. Ezra had been staying at Trump Towers under the alias of Ezra Shanahan, and according to Jack’s handwritten note on the board, it was the last place he’d been seen.
Martin snorted, even undercover his friend was a man of means. “No Hotel 6 for old Ez,” he said. He was aware of Buck and Chris moving up to stand on either side of him.
“Never,” Buck agreed with a crooked grin.
“How do you know he’s really missing if he was undercover?” he glanced over at Chris.
“J.D.”
“Ah, J.D.’s post office.” Martin flashed a smile at Chris. His heart did a little jump in his chest when Chris smiled back.
“Okay, here’s another question. Who or what is J.D.?” Jack asked. He had a feeling that he was going to be in the dark on a lot of things.
“He’s our communications expert.” Martin said absently. “And Ezra’s as anal about his schedule as he is about letting J.D. know he’s okay.”
Buck and Chris exchanged smiles at the possessive ‘our’ that Martin used. Even after all of the time apart he still considered himself one of them.
“Can I see the pictures from the Trump plaza?” Martin asked. Viv handed them over and he flipped through them until he saw the latest time stamp. “Did anyone i.d. the guy Ezra is speaking to?”
Chris looked over his shoulder. “No, and he looks familiar. Damn it.” Something about the man was making his instincts scream.
“I don’t recognize him either,” Buck added.
Danny was rifling through a pile of things on his desk when the office runner dropped the package onto Martin’s desk. “Hey Fitz, there’s something for you.”
Martin walked over and picked up the manila envelope. “There’s no return address.”
“Has that been checked?” Chris asked sharply.
Vivian’s head came up and her eyes narrowed on the envelope. “We have state of the art inspection and scanning tech in our mailrooms, Agent Larabee,” she said mildly, though her eyes were a little knowing. Martin hid a grin, Chris never changed, and began to open the package.
Buck nudged Chris. “Yer bein’ obvious, pard,” he teased in an undertone that brought a flush of color to his friend's cheeks.
The tightening of Martin’s shoulders made Chris stride forward to see what was wrong. “Vin?”
Martin didn’t realize that Chris had used the wrong name, only holding up the picture of Ezra so everyone could see.
“Madre de dios! How much C-4 is strapped to his chest?” Danny asked in hushed tones, his shock making him lapse into Spanish.
“Enough to level a building,” Buck said, anger in his voice. He couldn’t take his eyes from Ezra’s frightened eyes, his imagination providing the vibrant green absent in the black and white photo.
“I know who it is!” Martin suddenly yelped, dropping the photo onto his desk. He grabbed the stills from the security cameras and flipped through to the one he was looking for. “Shit, I knew it.”
“Who is it, Martin?” Jack asked his agent, feeling like he was a step behind.
“It’s Luke Carlyle’s lieutenant, Marcus DeRyan. I should’ve seen it.” Martin swore softly, “Damn it. How can he be out of prison?” he sat at his desk and started typing rapidly.
“Track down all known associates,” Jack ordered his team, then he looked back at Chris, eyes narrowing as he watched the other man watch Martin. “Tell me about him.”
Buck bumped Chris, who jerked in surprise then scowled at him. “I heard him.”
"Uh huh."
Chris rolled his eyes at his friend then focused on Jack. “Marcus DeRyan, second in command to Luke Carlyle. He and Carlyle are responsible for the deaths of seventeen policemen. Ten between Arizona and New Mexico, and seven in the Denver area when his robbery of the local Wells Fargo went bad,” he sighed gustily. “DeRyan was captured immediately, but Carlyle was still loose. Our sniper had him in his sights, and kept asking for weapons loose, but even as the sixth and seventh young cop was gunned down in cold blood I was getting nothing from the higher ups.”
He exchanged a look with Buck, who grinned. “Vin, I mean Martin shot Carlyle in his right shoulder. It stopped him dead, so to speak. The bullet turned his shoulder into hamburger, making the docs say he’d probably never use the arm again."
"Hmm. And Martin?"
Buck smoothed his mustache to disguise a smile. "Well, a bunch of widows and wives thanked him afterwards."
"He received an official reprimand," Chris shot a repressive look at Back who only shrugged.
“And an unofficial attaboy?” Jack said dryly.
Now Chris smiled wryly back. “Something like that.”
Martin glanced over at his boss speaking with Chris and Buck. A playful punch to the arm made him jerk in surprise, and scowl at a grinning Danny. “Cut it out,” he growled.
"Is that him?" Danny hissed, his head jerking towards the men.
Martin's answer was a blush and a barely seen nod. Danny grinned knowingly at his friend and grabbed the printouts, taking them over to the table to spread them out. Martin followed and together they scrutinized the photo for all possible clues and crosschecked with possible localities.
“Carlyle and DeRyan escaped from prison eight days ago,” Sam called from her own computer. “DeRyan killed a prison guard.”
Chris made a face. “And of course no one thought to inform us.”
“Interagency cooperation is still a pipe dream, stud,” snorted Buck.
A computer dinged and Danny went over to check it out. “There’s nothing on DeRyan, but I have a hit on Carlyle’s brother,” he called. “He owns three warehouses, one in Queens and the others in Brooklyn. One is a legitimate business that is rented by Giannetti Fine Meats, the other two are unknowns. Oh, and he's been busted for illegal weapons and drugs.”
“Family always trips you up.” Martin said bitterly. Chris and Buck saw the knowing look that passed between Martin’s co-workers. That one little sentence was rife with enough emotion and unknown history that it made the ATF agents want to ask questions.
Jack glanced at the information. "Martin and Viv, you take one on Bedford Avenue, Danny and I will take the one on Cooper in Queens."
"We're going with Martin," Chris said unequivocally.
Jack opened his mouth, then sighed. "Fine, but Viv's in charge. Understood?"
Martin stared at Jack in surprise. "Are you serious? What's the director going to say?"
"When we find Ezra, we'll commend your department for its shining example of interagency co-operation." Chris said solemnly, though his eyes smiled.
"I'll need it in writing." Jack retorted, not bothering to hide his own smile.
*~*
Ezra's head jerked as he tried to keep from falling asleep. It ached fiercely, his right eye was almost swollen shut, and in private moments he despaired for his life expectancy. Then he'd hear Mr. Wilmington give him a piece of his mind for giving up. Ironic that it was Buck that was keeping his hope alive.
*
Buck watched with amused approval as Chris visibly restrained himself from jumping in and offering advice, but let Vivian do her thing. He also noticed that Chris and Martin never strayed far from each other in the chaos of the operation, and he saw that other Feebie folks noticed as well.
Sam watched Martin with a frown on her pretty face. She could see that Martin had close ties with the ATF agents, but he seemed awfully close with the leader.
With a grin, Danny could only watch as Martin practically glowed from being in proximity to his old friends, especially one Agent Larabee.
END5
*
The assault team was in place on the Avenue P entrance of the warehouse, and its leader nodded at Vivian who was on one side of the metal door, weapon out and ready. She glanced at Martin who nodded his readiness, then she jerked her head towards the door.
The four men wielding the battering ram broke the door down and everyone poured inside. "FBI!" Vivian and Martin shouted into the dim interior. Shots from the bad guys rang out and everyone ducked behind cars that were in various states of restoration.
"FBI! Put down your weapons!"
More gunfire, both received and returned and Buck cursed making Chris snap his head around, but before he could ask if he was okay, a voice rang out.
"I'll kill him!"
Heads cautiously popped up to see Ezra standing under a buzzing fluorescent light, still strapped in C-4. There was a couple of bodies flopped bleeding on the floor and in the middle of the carnage was their undercover agent who looked like he'd been dragged through gravel backwards. On his face.
Gripping Ezra's arm, Carlyle on the other hand looked fresh as a daisy in a perfectly pressed suit, if you discounted the hate blazing in his eyes and what looked like a remote detonator in his hand.
In the gloom of the warehouse Buck and Chris exchanged frustrated looks, but then Buck looked past him and grinned. Chris turned his head and he saw Martin raise an M-16 that he must have pulled off of one of the other FBI agents. He was aiming it through the window of what looked like a vintage Mustang Cobra. Nothing more comforting than the familiar, Chris thought with a grin.
"You're surrounded," Vivian stated calmly. She was close enough to see the sweat bead down Carlyle's face. "You need to let him go." She was nervous herself, if that bomb went off there wouldn’t be enough of anyone left to scoop up with a spoon.
"Do you see this?" the man screamed, holding up his withered hand with the detonator. "Your Agent Fitzgerald did this to me and he's going to pay because I'm going to kill the man he loves."
Ezra jerked in surprise and twisted his head to look at his captor in amazed disbelief. "Ah am afraid that you are quite mistaken. Ah am not acquainted with an Agent Fitzgerald."
Carlyle shook him roughly. "You might know him as Agent Vin Tanner. His affection for you has signed your death warrant, Agent Standish."
Ezra snorted. "Ah can assure you that Mr. Tanner nor I are not, nor ever were in a relationship. Your information is in error."
The sarcastic edge to Ezra's words made the man's face tighten. "Then it won't matter to him if you die," his finger began to move to the button…
"Ezra! Catch!" Martin yelled.
Ezra had only a split second to figure out what Vin was talking about when he heard the bullet whiz by his ear and the spray of warm blood hitting him. Carlyle began to collapse and Ezra's normally graceful and quick hands scrabbled for the device, clumsily catching it before it before it hit the concrete.
There was a charged silence, then Ezra drawled, "Mistuh Tanner, I fear I am very vexed with you."
Martin stood and smiled at his old friend, watching as other FBI agents who specialized in explosives took the detonator and began to help Ezra from his C-4 vest. "Sorry, Ez. Are you alright?"
Chris gracefully rolled to his feet and strode to his agent, Vivian putting up her weapon and walking with him.
Ezra looked startled then pleased to see Chris. "Why Mr. Larabee, what a pleasant surprise." Martin shook his head as he pulled out his phone. Ezra never did seem to realize his worth to Team 7.
"Jack, we've got him. Yeah, he's fine. No, the suspect is dead. I…" he trailed off at the sight of Buck kneeling on the floor still, blood dripping down. "Shit. Jack, we need the paramedics here," he snapped his phone shut.
"Chris! Buck's been hit." he yelled as he sprinted to Buck's side. "I thought you were wearing a vest?" Martin scolded as he gingerly raised Buck's shirt to check the wound.
Buck grunted out a laugh. "Didn't want to distract ya. Don't think it's too bad."
"God, Bucklin," Martin groaned, "and I thought Ezra was a trouble magnet." He pulled out his handkerchief and pressed it to the bloody groove in Buck's side, just beneath the vest's protection. The man was bleeding like a stuck pig.
Chris's head snapped around at Martin's shout, torn between his agents but Viv waved him off. "Go, we'll get this off of Agent Standish," she said understandingly.
He looked at Ezra, worried as he saw the undercover agent trembling from fear or fatigue, probably a combination of the two. “Any of this your blood?”
Ezra shook his head. “No, now go. I'm fine, Chris. Go see to him."
Buck glanced up as Chris skidded to knees beside them "Damn it, Buck!"
"I'm fine, Chris. Ain't nothin' but a scratch," then made lie to the statement by hissing in a breath when Martin pressed on it harder to stop the bleeding. "Shit, that hurts!"
Martin exchanged a look with Chris. "Ya'd think you'd be used to it by now. What is this, the twenty third time?"
"You're behind, Agent Fitzgerald," Ezra's voice said as he squatted painfully beside them, minus the tacky, not so fashionable accessory he'd been wearing. "This has to be number thirty eight by now, right Mr. Wilmington?"
"Shut up, Ez." Buck grumbled. Between hissed in breaths he checked his friend out, making sure the green eyes didn’t lie to him. "You okay?"
"Nothing that a large snifter of brandy, hot water and soap wouldn't cure. At least I'm not bleeding on the floor of this disreputable establishment," Ezra replied mildly, though his green eyes were worried at how pale Buck had become. There were sounds of sirens getting closer in the background.
"At least my pretty face isn't all beat up!" Buck retorted, the two men grinning at each other.
"If I have to separate you two…" Chris threatened, making Martin chuckle. He'd heard that a million times.
Vivian laughed. "Gentlemen, and I use the term loosely, the paramedics are here."
*~*
J.D. sighed and rubbed his eyes. He’d been designing a new security firewall to pass the time, but he was worried sick about Ezra. He glanced over at Josiah who was reading a book on serial killers, feet propped up on his desk. J.D made a face. Not his choice for light reading. He turned to check on Nathan who was typing quietly at his computer. Nathan glanced up and smiled at him reassuringly.
“I hate not being there.” J.D. said ruefully to his co-workers.
“They’ll find Brother Ezra.” Josiah rumbled reassuringly. “Too stubborn not to.”
This made J.D. snort. “Ain’t that the truth.” The phone ringing jolted him and he dove for it. “Buck?”
“No, it’s Chris. We have him.”
“Thank God!” J.D. exclaimed. He pressed the speaker button, “You’re on speaker, Chris.”
“Hey fellas.” Chris said. “We have Ezra, he’s beaten up and has a spectacular black eye and he’s a little dehydrated but will be right as rain in a few days.”
Josiah let his feet drop to the floor. “And?”
Chris sighed. “Buck was hit, but it’s a minor groove on his side. Unfortunately he lost a lot of blood so the docs are keeping him overnight.”
Nathan sat up. “They let you go in with them? And why wasn’t Buck wearing a vest?”
A chuckle. “We have an old friend who was working on Ezra’s case, and Buck ~was~ wearing a vest. He was hit just under the edge of his vest.”
“What old friend?” J.D. asked curiously. He wasn’t sure he knew any FBI agents in New York.
“As Josiah would say, our last lamb.”
“Vin?” The three men chorused in delight.
“Yeah, listen. I need to gather up Ezra and head back to Missing Persons. Nate, I e-mailed you all of Buck’s info so you can check on him. Hopefully we can wrap this up tomorrow.”
“But what about Vin?” J.D. asked impatiently.
There was a silence. “I’m going to convince him to come home.”
The three men heard the steel in Chris’s voice and smiled.
“Be safe, brother.” Josiah said.
“We will. Call you tomorrow.” And then there was a dial tone.
J.D hung up the phone. “Wow.”
Nathan and Josiah exchanged wide grins.
“It’s about damn time.” Nathan said firmly, then he went to check his e-mail so he could check up on Buck.
~*~
Buck was being held overnight at the hospital due to blood loss. He'd grumbled good-naturedly until he'd seen the pretty nurses and his eyes had lit up. Chris had been reluctant to leave him until Buck had grabbed his friend by the front of his shirt and hissed, "You're rainin' on my parade here, pard!"
Nothing else could reassure him more and Chris had departed with a smile on his face. Now he was seated next to Vin, (damn it, he needed to remember that his name was Martin) across from Ezra who was bruised, slightly dehydrated and now proud owner of a couple of stitches near his eyebrow, but otherwise all right. At the moment undercover agent was elegantly sprawled in one of the office chairs in Missing Persons, a bottle of water (Ah know ah specifically requested brandy) in his hands.
“How come you didn’t recognize DeRyan, Agent Standish?” Jack asked as he leaned against one of the desks, arms crossed over his chest.
Ezra shook his head. “I’d never laid eyes on the man before. I was undercover on a separate assignment when Carlyle made his disastrous attempt on our local banking institution.” He grinned over at Martin. “Apparently Agent Fitzgerald made quite an impression, however.”
Martin snorted and Chris rolled his eyes.
Vivian was perched on the corner of one of the other desks. "What I don't get is why Carlyle thought that you and Ezra were in a relationship, Martin."
Martin glanced at Chris, whose green eyes had hardened to jade, making him feel ridiculously warm and fuzzy. "He or DeRyan must have seen us at the Lutéce, that's all I can figure. I didn’t see either of them though."
Ezra nodded. "There were several unsavory types there. I had noticed that the clientele had fallen since I'd last escorted my dear mother there."
"There will always be bad guys. What did you two do? Kiss each other?" Jack solemnly teased.
"No!" both men exclaimed.
"We only used an embrace that brothers would use. Agent Fitzgerald is not my type." Ezra said with offended dignity. "I just thank the Good Lord that Mr. Wilmington wasn't here to hear your unfortunate question. I'd never live it down."
Martin leaned back with a grin, his shoulder brushing Chris's. "I don't know Ez, you're kinda cute."
This made Danny suck the water he was drinking down his windpipe and start choking. When he finally waved away all of the less than helpful people, he wiped his eyes and laughed. "Geez, Fitz. You could've had the decency to shoot me instead of letting me choke to death."
Chris had cottoned on to Martin's teasing a second behind Ezra, who'd stuck out his tongue in retaliation. "Real mature, Ezra." He shared a laughing glance with Martin, which turned heated as blue stared into green.
"Men are children." Viv said to Sam. Sam however was staring at Martin, as if she was seeing him for the first time.
Jack leaned forward. "Sam?"
She jerked and blinked. "What?"
Chris stood up with a groan, interrupting the question. "I need to get to the hospital to check on Buck, then get Ezra settled in. We can wrap this up tomorrow, can't we, Malone?"
"Yeah, we'll get it in the morning."
Ezra stiffly stood as well, groaning theatrically. "I feel like I was beaten. Oh wait, I was!"
This familiar line made Martin smile fondly at his old friend. "Get some food and brandy and you'll be good as new."
"You're coming with us, aren't you Mr. Fitzgerald?" Ezra asked, not so innocently. He knew that Chris wanted to spend quality time with their friend.
There was a noise from the elevator and a man stepped out. At the sight of him Martin's face showed a moment of absolute panic, "Um, not tonight, Ez. I have to-- check on something," and he stood and walked away as fast as he could without running.
Stupid! Damn it, how stupid could he be? Chris and the team were in jeopardy, all because of him! He burst into the bathroom put his hands against the cool tile walls, letting his head hang in defeat.
Chris watched his flight, his mouth open in surprise. "What in the hell was that?"
Jack looked thoughtfully at the man who was walking towards him. "I'm not sure, but I can make a couple of educated guesses.” He straightened from his slouch against the desk.
“Agent Killian, what can I do for you?"
"Agent Malone." The other man said sharply, his eyes not missing a thing. "I need to speak to you in private."
Jack nodded. "If you'll come with me," he led the man to his office, carefully closing the door.
Ezra's right eye might have been swollen, but his left eye had caught the look of panic and defeat on Martin's face. "There is something amiss, here."
Danny stood. "I'm pretty sure I know. Let me check on him," he quickly left, heading the same direction Martin had taken.
Chris hesitated, needing to know what was going on, but reluctant to hurt Martin in any way.
"Go after him," Viv advised wisely. "He needs you."
Chris met her soft brown eyes, glanced at Ezra who flapped a hand at him, then straightened his shoulders and followed the two men.
Sam shook her head in amazement. "I never even guessed. I mean, what happened between them?"
Vivian crossed her arms as she always did when she was thinking. She would never have guessed either, knowing that Sam and he had dated. "I don’t know. I can't see Martin just giving up."
Ezra took a swallow of his water. "Unless something threatened, then his first instinct would be to protect," he observed with sudden understanding.
"I don't think it was something," Viv said thoughtfully, her eyes on Jack's office. "I think it was someone."
END6
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