Busted (46 page)

Joe ducked aside and swung wildly. The gun barrel caught the bag’s cord as it moved. The fragile leather gave way and the bag flew across the room. Joe continued the swing and caught the man on the side of the head with the side of the pistol. It went off as he did, the bullet smashing through the bedroom window. The man fell to the ground, stunned.

Joe dropped the gun.

"Oh, god, I didn't mean to... I wasn't trying to… Shit!"

Chris moved forward to check the man. His eyes were open and he was twitching, but he seemed completely insensate. His right cheek had a bleeding cut where Joe had caught him with the gun barrel, and there was a long thin scab on his right temple.

The sound of feet thundered up the stairs broke the silence. "Freeze!"

Steve was standing in the doorway. His gun was drawn, and he was flanked by a pair of uniformed officers. Chris and Joe looked up simultaneously. They looked at each other, then broke out laughing.

"Good timing, guys," Chris said.

"Shit," Steve said, holstering his gun. "And here I thought you were in danger or something."

"Well, someone was," Joe said. "But you put your gun away, so I think we’re safe now."

"Last time I rescue your ass," Steve muttered. He knelt down next to the unconscious man on the floor.

"This our guy?"

"Yeah," Chris said. Toby was clinging to him. His eyes were wide, and he looked terrified. Joe squatted down and smiled.

"How're you doing, sport?"

Toby didn't say anything. He just launched himself at Joe and clung, his body trembling. It made his shoulder scream, enough to bring tears to Joe's eyes, but he wasn’t going to let the boy go no matter how much it hurt.

* * *

The rest of the evening was a blur of police and bad coffee. Joe vaguely remembered getting driven to the police station with Toby, and being interviewed for hours on end. It was worse than when Chris had pulled him over the first time they'd met, though at least this time he wasn't cuffed.

By the end of it Joe found himself sitting in an old office chair, his feet up on a desk and Toby asleep in his lap. Joe was tired and sore, and just wanted to go home. He just wasn’t sure where home was right then.

Steve finally found him, around ten thirty. He looked as beat as Joe felt.

"Hey," he said, throwing himself into a chair. "I'd have thought you'd have gone home by now."

Joe gave a little shrug. "Nobody said whether I could go or not. Don't really have any place to go right now anyway."

"Joe," Steve started.

"Please don't," Joe said, cutting him off. "I know. Just… not now, okay? It's been a really lousy day."

"Could be worse," Steve said with a small smile. "You caught the bad guy."

"Whee," Joe said, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, don't knock it. He was looking to kill you, after all. And besides, you made the Captain happy."

Joe looked across the desks into the conference room on the far side of the office. Captain Davisdon was in there, red faced and waving the soggy end of a cigar at a bunch of dour people in expensive suits.

"That's happy?"

"For him? He's ecstatic," Steve said.

"Well, that's someone, I guess," Joe said. "Why's he so thrilled?"

"You kidding? They’d just started a big task force to track this guy down. Press releases, briefings, planning meetings… the works. Four hours later we show 'em all up. He's loving it."

"Great. Maybe I'll get a medal," Joe said. He sighed and looked around. "So where's your office at, anyway? You work here, right?"

Steve laughed. "Right here, Joe. This," he said, gesturing expansively at the desk piled high with papers and empty coffee cups, "is my office."

Joe winced. "Figures. And whose is this?" he asked, thumping the desk under his feet with one heel.

"That is my desk," said a voice from behind him.

Joe tipped his head back. Chris was standing behind him, looking as tired as Steve had. Or so Joe thought, as it was tough to tell upside-down.

"Detective," Joe said. He regretted it as soon as the word left his mouth.

Chris winced. He'd planned on coming over to explain, possibly grovel. After Joe had come to his rescue at the house, he thought there might be a chance to find out what had gone wrong and fix it. He wasn't so sure any more.

"Ah, damn, I'm sorry," Joe said, closing his eyes. He'd sworn to himself that he'd behave, that he wouldn't fuck things up, and the first word out of his mouth was a mistake.

"It's okay," Chris said. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, looking like nothing so much as a guilty child.

"You're hurt," he finally said, looking at Joe's shoulder. The white of his shirt was marred by a line of small red spots.

"Pulled my stitches."

Chris knelt down next to his chair and traced the line with a gentle finger.

"Maybe you should get that looked at, just in case. You were pretty badly hurt. I almost…" Chris caught the 'lost you' before it got out. He didn't feel he had any right to say that, not any more. "You almost got killed."

Joe shrugged. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, you are," Chris said before he could stop himself.

Joe raised an eyebrow.

"That is… I mean… um…" Chris dithered. He didn't know what to say. He'd never been one for words, not between people. "Fuck this," he said. He grabbed Joe's tie and pulled him forward, aiming for a kiss.

It was a good idea, and in other circumstances it might have worked, but Joe had Toby on his lap and Chris was nervous, so instead of a kiss they banged noses. Chris let go of the tie in surprise and Joe ended up rocking back in the chair.

Toby roused himself and looked around sleepily. Joe couldn't help himself, he started to chuckle. Steve joined in, and finally so did Chris until the three of them were nearly helpless with laughter. Toby looked indignant, in the way that only small children can, as he felt he'd been left out of some very funny joke.

"Can I have a second try?" Chris asked after they had finally gotten themselves back under control. It wasn't the kiss he was referring to, and they both knew it.

"Always," Joe said. He leaned forward. Their lips met this time. The kiss was soft and sweet. Any thought Joe had of leaving melted away.

"I am so sorry," Chris said softly.

"Christ, Gagnon. In the goddamn squad room?"

Joe and Chris looked up, seeing Captain Davidson looming over them. Joe felt Chris tense.

"He’s my fucking boyfriend," he said. "There a problem?"

"Uh, Chris?" Joe broke in.

"What?"

"Not your fucking boyfriend," Joe said, a little chagrined.

Chris' face fell. "No?"

"No." He could barely stifle the grin. "Not for two weeks. Doctor's orders," he said, tapping his shoulder.

Chris growled and pulled him in for another kiss, one that left them both breathless.

"Come home with us," he said, as they broke the kiss. Davidson had stomped off at some point, though they'd both missed it. "Come home and stay."

Fin