Joe LaFiamma checked his appearance in the mirror. Over the last few years he'd gotten more casual with what he wore to the office. Although, his definition of casual and that of his coworkers was still worlds apart, he rarely went all out with a suit and tie unless he was in court. And today, he was going to be in court.

He steered clear of black. Black suits always reminded him of his Uncle Mikey's bodyguards or of going to a funeral. Dark blue slacks and a nice navy blue blazer. He smoothed the front of his lighter blue shirt. It matched the blue diamond pattern in his otherwise black tie. Sinfully expensive black Italian leather loafers completed the ensemble.

He unconsciously patted his chest again, seeking the feel of the pendant he wore beneath his shirt. Tucked away he'd be unable to play with it. Which was probably a good thing, Joe thought. Playing with it was rapidly becoming a blatant tell to anyone who knew him that he was nervous or worried. He didn't want to look that way on the witness stand.

A soft whistle got his attention. "Damn, boy, you look great." Levon Lundy smiled, golden brown eyes roaming over him in appreciation.

Joe chuckled and did a neat pirouette. "Glad you approve."

"I do." Levon grinned. He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "You ready to go?"

"Ready as I'll ever be to spend all day in court."

"Won't be all day."

Joe frowned. The case wasn't that simple or easy. "How do you figure?"

"Judge on the case is Delmar Reese."

"So?"

"So fishing season opened last week and today is Friday."

Joe made a 'go on' motion with his hand, still not seeing the significance of what Levon was saying. Levon rolled his eyes.

"Reese will call a recess a little before noon and it'll be for the rest of the day so he can go fishing."

Joe stared at him. "You're kidding?"

"He's been doing this for years, Joe." Levon shrugged one shoulder. "Man's not likely ta suddenly turn over a new leaf today."

"Why didn't I know this already?" Joe frowned.

"Probably 'cause this is your first time in his courtroom."

Given the stupid rookie mistakes he'd made and trouble Joe had his first two years in Houston, Lieutenant Joanne Beaumont, their boss, hadn't wanted him to testify in court where his credibility or ability as a cop could be called into question. With Levon technically the senior partner of their team and better known to most of the prosecutors, he was usually the one they asked for. It wasn't until the last year or so that Joe had begun regularly testifying. And when in court, he typically focused more on the attorneys and their styles of questioning than he did on the judge. Joe had seen more attorneys win or lose based on the questions they asked. Not just on what they asked, but how and what they did with the answers. Judges, Joe usually only paid attention to when it came to knowing how much information each needed before granting a search warrant.

"So we can get lunch together then?" Joe asked, seeing a definite upside to Reese's habit even if it did prolong the case and would probably have him back in court on Monday.

"Sure." Levon grinned. "Rescue me from the never ending paperwork."

"You want to take the Cobra or the Jimmy?"

"Need ta take both."

Joe blinked. "Come again?"

"Jimmy needs a tune up." Levon's tone was the same one he got whenever he was explaining something he'd already said more than once. "I wanna drop it off after work and leave it with Eddie for a day or so."

"Right." Joe nodded. He remembered Levon saying something about that the other day, but had forgotten all about it. "Sorry, Cowboy."

"No big deal." Levon patted his shoulder. He waggled his eyebrows. "Long as you don't forget your way home, I think we're good."

Joe laughed. "I could find my way home blindfolded."

"Good." Levon gave him a quick kiss, pulling back before Joe could deepen it. "You don't want to be late. In addition to leaving early on Friday's during fishing season, Reese always starts on time."

"Always?"

"Always." Levon shook his head. "Son of a bitch nearly filed contempt charges against me once for being five minutes late."

Joe grimaced. "Kind who likes the rules as long as they don't apply to him."

"Bingo." Levon jerked his head toward the door. "So we better go."

Joe followed Levon to the door, snagging his keys from where they hung on the small rack made for just that purpose. He tossed Levon's to him after the blond had settled his Stetson in place. It felt a little weird to him to not just head for the Jimmy since it was usually the vehicle they took. He didn't mind driving. Joe actually enjoyed taking the Cobra out for a spin, but he already knew he was going to miss having company. He hadn't gone anywhere in a vehicle without Levon since he moved out to the ranch nearly a year ago.

"You be careful, now, ya hear," Levon called out, leaning against his truck.

Joe snorted. His partner was a worry wart. "I'm going to be in court, Cowboy. Not like anything can happen there."

Levon raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, and I was just going for a cup of coffee."

Joe had to admit Levon had a point. They seemed to get into the damnedest situations when they weren't with each other. Course that has nothing on what happens when we're together, Joe thought, but then together we can usually handle it.

"I'll look both ways," Joe promised, holding up his hand with fingers set in a traditional boy scout salute.

"See that you do." Levon pointed a finger at him. A smile lurked about his mouth. "And don't be givin' me that stupid salute. I know you weren't a boy scout."

"Wasn't much call for wilderness training in Chicago." Joe shrugged. He sobered, giving Levon a hard look. "You be careful too. You leave the building someone had better know where you are and what you're doing."

Levon dipped his head in an abbreviated nod. Joe knew his admonishment wasn't really necessary. After Levon had been hit by that car the desk sergeant, Mike Suanders, had sort of taken it upon himself to keep a watchful eye on Levon whenever Joe wasn't around. Mike seemed to take it personally that Levon had been hurt on his watch, as though he were responsible. Joe didn't care why he did it, he was just glad he did.

"I'll see you at noon."

"I'll be waiting." Levon grinned as he got into the Jimmy. "It's yer turn to buy."

Joe laughed. Levon had naturally made that assertion when Joe couldn't effectively argue. Payback would definitely be in order. Joe grinned to himself. He'd make sure paying for lunch was worth it. Something he knew Levon was likely counting on.

Joe waited until Levon had pulled out before following him. Their paths would stay the same until they were in the city proper. The case Joe was testifying for was being tried in a courthouse that was the furthest from the station.

Houston had a least four courthouses to handle not only its own trials and legal matters but also those of several of the smaller surrounding communities. The city limits actually put it within three counties which sometimes made for jurisdictional nightmares. Most of the time they managed to make it work with an ease that always made Joe just a bit suspicious. He couldn't quite shake his innate distrust for things that were easier than expected.

He pulled up next to Levon's Jimmy at the light, preparing to take a right turn. Levon looked over and blew him a kiss. He sent one back with a smile before turning and merging with traffic.

He hoped Levon was right about Reese being a creature of habit. Joe wouldn't mind seeing if maybe they couldn't leave a little early themselves. He grinned thinking he wouldn't mind a little 'afternoon delight'. It would be a great way to start the weekend.

Joe drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while he waited for traffic to clear enough for him to turn into the courthouse parking lot. "Work now, play later," he told to himself as he parked the Cobra, his tone unconsciously mimicking Levon's drawl.

Joe told himself to put off thoughts of playing until at least noon. He needed to focus on being ready for the witness stand and testifying, then he could move on to better things. Much better things, he grinned as he smoothed his jacket one last time, squaring his shoulders and headed inside.

Levon really didn't hate paperwork. He wasn't fond of the tedious nature of it or the amount of time consumed, but he definitely saw the need for it. Catching criminals was one thing, making sure they stayed behind bars was another. Dotting the I's and crossing the T's was just part of doing a good job in his opinion.

Levon sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. He was tired of staring at forms and trying to whittle down a complex situation into few enough words it would fit in the box provided. "Ain't like I'm what ya call verbose for crying out loud," he muttered to himself. Who in their right mind actually thought a cop could fit the events of three months worth of work into a box with just two lines? With a shake of his head, Levon wrote in 'see attached' and stapled copies of his case notes to the form.

Unlike Joe, he could get away without having to type everything. He kept trying to tell his partner there was a benefit to having neat handwriting, but Joe had yet to see it. Of course, Joe had kept trying to tell him learning to touch type would save him time, but Levon didn't see the need for it either.

Levon checked his watch. It was nearly noon. If traffic were good, Joe would show up around 12:30. If it was bad, Levon figured it would be more like one o'clock.

Another cup of coffee was definitely in order. Levon put the form he'd finished in the file and dropped it into the inbox on Joe's desk. His partner would need to fill out his own version of events before they could really pass it off to get filed in the records room. Levon put his original notes in a neatly labeled folder that would get filed in a box under his desk. When the box was full, Levon usually carted it home to be stored in the filing cabinets in his garage.

Joe had thought he was nuts to keep his notes until they'd gotten saddled with digging deeper into few old, cold cases. The records department had moved any files more than three years old into storage. The storage facility had been flooded not long after, destroying most of the records. It would have been impossible to do anything with the cold cases if not for Levon's personal filing system.

Joe had is own that involved computers and discs. Levon didn't trust technology enough to abandon the old way just yet. But one of the filing cabinets in the garage now housed a box of discs for Joe.

Levon stretched, sighing when several vertebrae popped. He sauntered into the break room. He could finish off another cup of coffee while he waited for Joe to get back.

Returning to his desk, Levon debated the merits of starting on another file. He leaned back in his chair, mentally reviewing what cases were still outstanding. The low grade hum of activity buzzed around him as white noise he had long since grown accustomed to.

He'd learned to tune out the dozens of separate conversations that were always going at the same time. Phones had a habit of ringing with annoying frequency, but he could actually pick out whose by the tone and volume which made them easier to disregard. The scanner that kept the squad room connected with dispatch was something he'd gotten used to ignoring and focusing on without conscious thought.

Levon wasn't sure just what it was on the scanner that suddenly got his attention, but it was quickly the only thing he heard. He focused on the report, shutting out everything else around him. Shots fired at the Harris County Courthouse. Uniforms were being dispatched as well as ambulances. Shit. Joe was at Harris County Courthouse.

Levon was up and moving, discarding his full coffee cup along the way. He told Mendoza and Legs he was heading out, habit forcing him to let someone else know where he was going. He'd call into dispatch from the Jimmy.

Levon sprinted down the stairs, not bothering to wait on the elevator. It would take too damn long. He fired up the Jimmy, pulling out of the garage with a squeal of tires, lights flashing.

He cued the mic on the radio calling into dispatch, letting them no he was responding. Several other cars were already headed to the scene so he probably wasn't needed. Hell, he hoped he wouldn't be needed. But this wasn't about the job, at least not entirely. It was more about needing to know his partner and lover was okay.

Levon cursed when he spotted traffic jam. It was the usual mid-day rush and something he normally didn't worry about. Without easing off the accelerator, Levon turned the Jimmy into an alley. He was headed the wrong way down a one way street. Fortunately the street was empty. Even if it wasn't, Levon was in no mood to back up.

More details were coming across the radio. Shots were fired outside. No more were being fired but caution was still being urged. There were at least two wounded. No word on possible fatalities as yet. Levon tightened his grip on the steering wheel when the word 'fatalities' was said. He couldn't decide if it was good or bad that it had been mentioned at all.

Levon frowned when dispatch reported shots fired were suspected to have been a sniper--no suspect located on ground. Standard procedure required SWAT being called out since snipers weren't something Houston PD dealt with very often. Dispatch was issuing orders to uniforms responding not to approach too closely; they wanted those on scene to cordon off the area. It would hopefully keep people from entering a possible kill zone.

Levon made his way down another side street. He barely avoided a small blue compact as he made a hard right. He ignored the honking horn and one finger salute.

Levon encountered two black and whites that blocked the street two blocks from the courthouse. Without missing a beat he drove the Jimmy up on to the sidewalk, driving around the road block. One of the uniforms shook his head but didn't try to stop him.

Levon slowed within a block of his destination. He wasn't stupid. No matter how worried he was about Joe, getting his own head blown off wouldn't help.

Levon parked the Jimmy. He checked in with dispatch, letting other officers know who he was and where he was. Friendly fire might be as much a danger as the sniper.

Levon opened the door of the Jimmy and slid out cautiously. It was decidedly weird not to hear traffic sounds and to see the street basically deserted. He mentally tipped his hat to the uniforms cordoning off the area. They hadn't stopped him, but they were doing a good job of keeping everyone else at bay.

It was highly unlikely he'd spot anyone but he scanned the rooftops anyway. He reminded himself that a sniper didn't have to be up high. It was just the most likely place.

Shaking his head, Levon hugged the wall the closest building. He instinctively crouched, making himself a smaller target as he moved forward. He wanted to draw his colt, but the weapon didn't have the power to be effective at long range. It was better just to leave it in his holster.

Levon edged forward. As he got closer to the courthouse he could hear a few people calling to one another. He could make out several of them huddled behind the marble columns.

He frowned. According to the sketchy details he'd gotten over the radio most of the trials in session hadn't let out yet. A good thing since it kept the majority of people inside. Most but not all. Levon winced as he saw a few more crouched near cars. They looked skittish and he had no doubt they'd break cover if something wasn't done soon.

He worked his way up along side a uniformed officer. Levon recognized him as one of the bailiffs from Judge Reese's courtroom, but he had no idea what the man's name was. He looked as nervous as the civilians but was doing an admirable job of trying not to panic.

Levon crouched next to him, patting him on the shoulder. "Any more shots fired?"

He shook his head. "N-n-not since it stopped a few minutes ago." He swallowed hard. "T-t-t-wo people were hit." The bailiff pointed to the landing halfway down the marble steps. Levon could just make out two bodies there. He couldn't make out any more without a better vantage point. The lack of movement worried him.

A chopper sounded overhead. Levon looked up instinctively. It was one of SWAT's thank god, not one of the news station's.

Levon held out his hand. "Give me your radio." All the bailiffs had radios that tied in with the PD. They were intended to allow for communication during emergencies.

The bailiff handed it over without hesitation. Levon immediately tuned it to SWAT's frequency. They hadn't located the shooter, but so far they'd only cleared a handful of rooftops. Levon decided that was good enough. The wounded needed to be seen to or at the very least pulled to somewhere a lot less exposed than where they'd fallen.

He clicked the mic, identifying himself and his position. He grinned when he heard Carl Jenkins respond.

"We're above you now, Lundy."

"Can you see the wounded?"

Jenkins' mic cackled a bit with the sound of chopper noise. "Two males. Caucasian. No movement."

"Alive?"

"Can't tell from here."

Levon's jaw tightened. "Can you cover me?"

"Roger that."

Levon cast a quick glance around. Several of the more nervous civilians were starting to move, their attention darting from the chopper to rooftops. He shook his head. They weren't going to stay put for much longer. Hopefully, Jenkins and his team could cover them too.

He patted the bailiff on the shoulder. He pointed to the more restless people. "See if you can get them ta head this way."

He didn't wait for the man to reply. Levon headed out into the street, moving quickly and staying low. He made his way up the steps, intent on taking care of the wounded. Once that was done, he could track down Joe. Hopefully, is partner was still inside the courthouse somewhere. If Joe saw him breaking cover like this before the damn sniper was accounted for he'd have his ass.

Levon made it to where two men lay prone. The amount of blood covering the marble gave him a momentary pause before he dismissed it and focused on the task at hand. One man was on his front, his face turned away from Levon. The other was on his side. It looked almost as though he might have pushed or tripped his companion at some point.

Levon checked for a pulse from the closest victim, the one lying face up. It was weak and thready but there. It was hard to know for sure how many times he'd been hit. His once white shirt was mostly scarlet. Levon didn't like the way the man's breathing was so labored. It sounded like a lung might have been hit.

He moved on to the second man. Levon's breath caught as what he was seeing registered. Joe.

It was Joe.

Oh dear God.

Joe.

Levon struggled with his blind panic. Joe hadn't moved since he'd been here. Wasn't moving before he'd gotten to the scene. Please, Levon begged silently, please. He wasn't even sure what he who he was pleading with or what exactly he was asking for.

Levon's hand trembled as he checked for a pulse, his eyes closing in desperate relief when he found it. It wasn't as strong or as even as he was used to but definitely there. The band that had tightened around his chest making it so hard to breathe loosened and he drew in a shaky breath. He let it out slowly and pulled in another.

He forced himself to take his hand away from Joe's pulse point, to let go of that proof his lover was still alive. He needed to make sure Joe stayed that way. Levon ran his hands down Joe's back and legs, checking for any sign of injury. Finding none, Levon very carefully rolled Joe over, supporting his head the way he'd been taught every year when he went through the mandatory annual recertification for CPR. He flinched when he saw blood covering the right side of Joe's face.

Levon clenched his jaw so tight his teeth hurt. He very carefully reached out to brush Joe's hair back, a near sob of relief escaping when he realized his lover hadn't been shot in the head. He had a nasty looking gash on his forehead that would definitely need stitches. He'd probably gotten it from falling against the steps.

The dark material of his jacket hid the growing wetness Levon could feel spreading across Joe's right shoulder. There hadn't been an exit wound on Joe's back, so the bullet was still in him. It was probably a good thing it hadn't been a through and through. He would have lost twice as much blood as he already had.

Standard triage procedure dictated that he leave Joe and focus on the other man. Joe's breathing was fine, and even from a few feet away Levon could hear the stranger wheezing. He cursed, not wanting to leave Joe, but unable to just let another man die either. He cued the radio as he moved back to the stranger.

"Jenkins. Got one civilian and one officer down. Both badly wounded but still alive." He shuddered. Joe damn well better stay that way. "I need help here."

"No sign of our sniper yet." Jenkins stated. He sounded a lot calmer than Levon knew he had. And he sounded apologetic. "Can't give the all clear yet."

"God damn it, Carl!" He didn't want apologies or excuses. "I need a bus and some help." He needed someone who knew a lot more than he did about keeping people alive. He couldn't move Joe or the other guy to a safer position. Not without doing more damage.

Levon growled in to the radio. "Get someone here. Now!"

"Lundy-"

"Don't you tell me no." Levon ground out. "My partner is lying in a puddle of his own blood. Don't you dare tell me no."

"Shit." The curse was soft and had probably been involuntary. "I'll ask them for volunteers."

Asking for volunteers was the best Jenkins could do. Levon knew that. They couldn't order paramedics into a dangerous situation.

"Give me details, Lundy. I'll relay."

Details would let them know the situation and could get them here sooner. Levon undid the stranger's tie and opened his shirt. "John Doe. Caucasian male. Two hits to the chest. Sounds like at least one hit a lung. Guy is having trouble breathing." He looked up and confirmed his suspicion. "Lips are blue."

The man was still bleeding. Levon wadded up the tie and pressed it hard against hole near his heart that was bleeding the most. He really had no idea what else to do for the man at this point. He wished to hell he'd thought to grab the first aid kit from the Jimmy, but there wasn't anything in it to really handle injuries like this either.

Levon looked over at Joe. His partner was still breathing easily, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Levon fought down the urge to go to him. He swallowed hard and continued briefing Jenkins.

"Joe LaFiamma. Caucasian male. One shot to the right shoulder. Head wound. Possibly from a fall." Levon took a breath and let it out slow. "Both are unconscious and unresponsive."

"Copy that." There was a brief pause. "Got one crew willing to come in."

"Good." Levon responded without a thought. The stranger's breathing was increasingly labored and more shallow. "Not sure how much longer this guy is going to make it."

He sent another worried glance toward Joe. He'd feel better if his partner would at least move a little. Something to show he was still alive besides the steady breathing. Some more tangible and obvious sign of life.

"Team two has located the sniper's nest." Jenkins' report startled Levon. He hadn't expected to hear anything more from him until the ambulance and paramedics got there. He'd been so focused on watching Joe breathe, he'd forgotten the radio was still on.

He hoped they got the bastard, but Levon wasn't counting on it. Too much time had passed. Sniper was probably long gone, but he wasn't going to stay that way. Levon would make sure of that. Fucker was going to pay and dearly.

Levon was relieved when he spotted an ambulance coming up the street. It parked in front of the courthouse. He was glad the bailiff had managed to get most of the civilians to head in his direction. It meant they weren't hiding behind the cars the ambulance was now parked in front of. Levon had seen people cling stupidly to rescue personnel when there was nothing wrong with them. He didn't want some hysterical, but otherwise fine, individual slowing down the paramedics. He'd have to shoot someone in that case. At least then they'd have a good reason to cling.

The paramedics made their way to him quickly, splitting up as they reached the landing, one heading for Levon and the stranger, the other for Joe. Levon wanted to simply turn over responsibility of the stranger to the paramedic and go to Joe. He wanted to get to his lover, to touch him, to make sure his lover was going to be okay, but he stayed where he was. He had a feeling the paramedic was going to need his help.

"I'm Jerry," the paramedic introduced himself as he set to work. Dark brown eyes flicked toward his partner. "That's Martin."

"Levon Lundy." Levon responded stiffly. He had to actually think about what to say. His focus was on what Martin was doing with Joe.

Martin and Jerry's actions seemed to mirror one another. Both were checking heart rate and blood pressure. They both peeled back eyelids looking for a response. Levon felt his chest tighten when Joe moaned.

"Joe?" He called out to him, unable to not try and make some sort of connection. He started to move, but Jerry put a hand on his arm.

"Levon…I need you to keep pressure on this." Dark eyes held him in place. "Martin will take good care of him, but I need your help here. Okay?"

Levon took a deep breath and nodded. He took the bandage being offered and placed it over the wadded tie, keeping pressure on the wound. He kept his eyes on Joe, hoping his partner would react again. He wanted to see those bright blue eyes.

He ignored what Jerry was doing, focusing on Martin's actions. He saw him place a field dressing on the scalp wound, and another one the shoulder wound. Levon flinched when Joe moaned again.

"We need to move them." Jerry called out. He shook his head. "This guy isn't going to hang on much longer if we don't."

"They got a second crew coming in." Martin said calmly, hands moving efficiently and with deliberate care as he continued to work on Joe.

Levon was glad to hear that. With more people he would be free to go to Joe. He slapped down on his impatience, daring to look away from Joe, seeking another ambulance crew.

He breathed easier when he spotted them. Levon willed them to move faster. He knew it was only his sense of urgency and anxiety that made them seem to be moving at a snail's pace. He chanted under his breath, "C'mon, c'mon."

He was more than happy to relinquish his place to the new paramedics. If they introduced themselves he didn't notice. Levon was already moving to Joe.

Martin looked like he wanted to tell him to step back. Levon glared at him. "Not going to get in your way, but I'm not backin' off either."

Martin nodded. Levon gave him points for recognizing a losing battle. It showed the man had good judgment.

Levon reached out to very carefully brush his fingers gently through Joe's hair. "You're gonna be fine, Joe." He didn't even know if Joe could hear him, but he felt compelled to reassure him just the same. "It's okay, boy. Got us some help. It's okay."

Joe always said there was power in positive thinking. Levon sure as hell hoped so. He was thinking as positive as possible, and hoping like hell just saying Joe would be okay would make it so.

"Let's move this guy," Jerry said. "You ready?"

Levon hadn't even noticed the other team of paramedics had brought a stretcher with them. He watched as they carefully lifted the wounded stranger on to it. He wasn't sure when they'd strapped the backboard on to him. He wondered if they'd do the same to Joe. Joe hated to be tied down.

Once they had the wounded man loaded the other team quickly made their way back to their ambulance with him. Levon was impressed with their efficiency. They seemed good at their jobs.

"He gonna make it?" Levon asked when Jerry moved to help Martin with Joe.

Jerry shrugged, eyes following the leaving ambulance for a moment. "Doesn't look good." Levon gave him points for honesty.

Jerry looked at Martin before his gaze flickered down to Joe. "He doing okay?"

"For now." Martin nodded. "Vital signs are stable."

"Good." Jerry had a second backboard. He and Martin carefully maneuvered it under Joe.

Joe's hands twitched. Levon caught one, holding it gently, relieved to find it warm. Joe's grip was loose and weak but it was there.

"Easy, Joe," Levon soothed, unable to not talk to him even though Joe didn't seem to be conscious. "Know you don't like this, but it's for your own good. Just relax."

Once on the backboard, Jerry and Martin lifted Joe on to the stretcher. Levon held Joe's hand, unwilling to let go now that he was finally able to make contact. If Jerry or Martin thought it the least bit odd, they didn't say anything about it.

Neither paramedic tried to keep him from riding in the ambulance. Levon was careful not to interfere with anything actually being done. He was scared, but he wasn't hysterical. He knew better than to get in the way.

Joe's eyelids fluttered as the Jerry put the ambulance in motion and hit the siren. Levon squeezed his hand. "Joe? You with me?"

Levon wanted Joe to open his eyes. He knew it was irrational, but he'd feel a lot more confident about his lover's condition if Joe would look at him. Joe turned his head, a small frown wrinkling his brow, but his breathing didn't change and his eyes didn't open.

Levon watched as Martin inserted an IV. He winced. Levon disliked needles.

He listened to Martin as he radioed in Joe's status to the ER. Levon understood enough to know Joe's heart rate and blood pressure were not what they should be. The rest might as well be Greek.

Levon squeezed Joe's hand. "Not long now. We'll be at the hospital soon. It's gonna be okay."

Levon tied to ignore how sharply Joe's unnaturally pale complexion contrasted with the dull red of drying blood. He wished he had something to clean his lover's face with. Joe hated anyone see him at anything but his best. He knew Joe would be pissed about the ruined shirt and jacket too. They were new. Levon would have to see if he could find replacements.

He found himself counting Joe's breaths. In and out. Not the slow and steady rhythm he was familiar with, but comforting all the same.

Levon was startled when the ambulance stopped and Jerry was opening the doors. He hadn't even realized they were at the hospital. He was just grateful they'd gotten here without Joe having gotten any worse.

He moved easily with the gurney as they left the ambulance and headed for the ER. It was almost physically painful to release his hold on Joe's hand when the got to the doors and one of the nurses began telling him he had to let go and stay out. He wanted to argue but knew better. Levon wasn't stupid enough to do anything that might jeopardize Joe getting the best possible care as fast as possible.

He swallowed hard and made his way to the waiting room. Sitting in the torture devices disguised as chairs wasn't really an option. He was too upset to sit quietly. Arms wrapped tightly around himself, Levon paced slowly back and forth, eyes flickering toward the ER doors a regular intervals.

He stopped when a nurse left the ER. She looked familiar but Levon couldn't say for sure if he knew her. Given the number of times he and Joe had visited the ER, it was a safe bet they'd met before.

She smiled hesitantly and offered him a bag. He immediately recognized the things inside; Joe's wallet, cuffs, holsters, his watch, and the pendant Joe never went anywhere without.

"I thought you might want to hold on to these."

Levon cleared his throat and then just gave up on speaking entirely. He opted for simply nodding. He immediately reached into the bag and took out the pendant. He wrapped the chain around his fingers, curling his hand into a fist around the small oval, holding it tightly.

"The last time he was here, he wouldn't let us remove that." She pointed to his closed fist. "It must be very important to him."

"It is. Very." Levon opened his fingers to look at it, seeing everything it represented to both of them. His thumb lightly caressed the inscribed oval the way Joe often did. It was a wonder it hadn't been worn smooth by now. Levon shuddered at the thought of his lover never fiddling with his pendant again.

"You okay, honey?"

Only if Joe is, Levon thought. He didn't say that aloud. Instead, he nodded once, and watched her go back to doing her job.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when the nurse came out again. She smiled at him encouragingly this time. Levon wasn't buying that. He waited to hear whatever she'd come to tell him.

"Mr. LaFiamma is stable so they are moving him up to surgery."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That's good?" His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.

"It's better," she admitted with a sigh, soft brown eyes rising to met his reluctantly. "He's not out of the woods yet, but they are taking good care of him. His chances are very good. He's always been a fighter every other time he's been in here. This time will be no different."

Levon nodded. He appreciated her honesty and confidence. "Thank you, Ma'am."

"There is a waiting room just down the hall from surgery on the sixth floor." She offered. "I told them to expect you."

She turned to leave when Levon called her back. "Ma'am? There was another guy that came in. Two shots in the chest. Do you-"

"He didn't make it." She looked away before once more making eye contact. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too." Levon whispered. He didn't even know the man's name, and it seemed wrong that he didn't. For several minutes the stranger's life had been as much his focus as Joe's. Levon felt like he should know something about the guy. His grip on Joe's pendant tightened.

"Can you…can you have his body and personal affects sent to the HPD morgue?" Levon asked quietly.

"It's already been taken care of." She patted his arm. "It's standard procedure for us when the decedent's cause of death is known to be the result of a crime."

"Thank you."

"Any time, honey." She nodded to him and walked away.

Levon headed for the elevator and the sixth floor. He frowned when he noticed several men in suits hanging around in the lobby. Habit had him making note of their builds and general facial features. He didn't recognize any of them. Levon dismissed them as a curiosity but unimportant.

He tried not to fidget as the elevator doors closed. Trying to distract himself, he took inventory of the bag holding Joe's things.

He eyed the empty holsters, not surprised to see the guns missing. Metal detectors set up at the courthouse were there to screen everyone. As a cop, Joe wouldn't be stopped but he wouldn't be allowed to keep his weapons either. Joe wouldn't hand over his guns to anyone. Levon figured he'd find them locked in the glove box of the Cobra.

He made a mental note to have someone move the Cobra. Joe wouldn't want it left parked just anywhere for long. The car was too valuable to leave unattended.

Levon glanced up when the elevator made a soft ping noise. Sixth floor. He took a deep breath and stepped off when the doors opened. Levon knew the lay out of the floor well enough to know where the lounge was.

He walked the length of the hall, measuring his steps, striving for a calm he didn't feel. He already knew he wasn't going to be sitting down and waiting patiently when he got to the lounge. Pacing wasn't his normal style, but the idea of sitting still was unpalatable right now.

Levon was relieved to find the lounge empty. He wasn't really up to sharing space with someone else at the moment. He placed the bag on one of the empty chairs, but couldn't bring himself to let go of the pendant. His fingers continued to run over the surface repeatedly.

Levon glanced at his watch. He had no idea how long Joe would be in surgery, and he knew looking at the time would just make the wait seem that much longer but he couldn't help himself. Time moved differently in a hospital.

He took a deep breath, and continued pacing back and forth. Joe would be okay. He had to be. He'd been shot before. So had Levon. They'd both survived. It would be okay. He just had to wait.

Joanne Beaumont cursed vehemently, dodging around the slower traffic and laying on the horn liberally. Couldn't they see the flashing lights for crying out loud? She was in a police car, the stupid shits.

She didn't have all the details, just the bare bones of what had happened. A sniper at the courthouse. Jesus. Just when she thought she'd seen all the craziness Houston had to offer someone upped the ante.

Two men wounded, one of them hers. God damn it. Why did it always have to be one of her guys? Couldn't the criminals find someone else just this once? Or couldn't hers find somewhere else to be, learn to dodge and keep their heads down?

She pulled into the hospital parking lot with a squeal of tires, neatly dodging a pick up truck. Joanne glared at the 'no parking' sign near the entrance and defiantly parked the car. They could tow the damn thing if they wanted to. She didn't have time to drive around looking for an open space.

She's already wasted enough time. She hadn't even gotten the call until Joe was already at the hospital. Stupid quarterly meeting with the mayor and councilmen. Why no one thought to interrupt that pointless meeting was beyond her. How could anyone think that meeting was more important than taking care of her guys?

She hesitated in front of the doors for a moment. It wouldn't do to look as frazzled as she felt. Levon was probably holding it together by the skin of his teeth. She owed it to him to at least look calm and collected.

Joanne stopped by the admissions desk. It took only seconds to learn where she could find Joe. All the nurse knew was that he was still in surgery. Joanne grimaced. That told her almost nothing about what shape he was in.

She headed for the elevators and the sixth floor. Joanne brushed her hair impatiently out of her eyes. One of these days she was going to cut it all off.

She tapped her foot impatiently watching the numbers move upward. She should have taken the stairs. The exercise would have helped. She made a mental note for the next time, even as she hoped there never would be a next time.

She stepped off the elevator and headed for the lounge. She wasn't surprised to see Levon pacing. He looked more calm than she felt, but then he rarely ever looked rattled. Only people who knew him would know how uncharacteristic his tracking back and forth, pace measured and slow, was for the blond.

She saw something glinting in his hand. It had to be Joe's pendant. The last time Joe had been injured, Levon had held on to that beloved bit of metal like it was a life line. Joe did the same thing with Levon's bracelet.

He looked up as she approached, stopping in mid stride. Levon nodded to her. "Joanne."

His voice sounded so rough, like it hurt to speak. She knew that feeling. It is hard to sound normal when what you really want to do is scream, she thought, reaching out to touch his arm.

There were patches of dried blood on his clothing, but Levon's hands and face were clean. She guessed he'd stopped in a rest room at some point. Joanne made a note to see if she could track down a change of clothes for him later.

"You okay?"

Levon blinked. "I'm fine."

She winced internally. Sometimes she really wished he'd learn to lie better. "Can you tell me what happened?"

In the past, Levon had always found helpful to go over the details. It seemed to draw his attention away from the present, even though the past was probably not any better at least it was over and done with. The past couldn't get any worse; it was the future that was unknown.

"Don't really know what all happened." Levon shook his head. He looked down at the pendant in his hand, thumb lightly rubbing the sterling oval.

"Then just tell me what you do know," Joanne encouraged softly.

"Heard the call on the radio…" Levon sighed, his voice fading out before he started again.

Joanne listened carefully to what Levon had to say. His guilt over not doing more for Joe on the courthouse steps was readily apparent. In his place, Joanne wasn't sure she'd have made the right choice to help the more gravelly wounded stranger.

"You did the right thing."

Levon snorted. "Guy died anyway, Joanne." Brown eyes looked bleakly at the doors that lead to where Joe was still in surgery. It wasn't hard to guess what Levon was thinking.

"Have they said-"

"Haven't heard a word." Levon took a slow deep breath. He started to pace again.

Joanne let him go. She found a seat that gave her a clear view of the surgery doors and Levon. She didn't bother to pick up one of the out of date magazines. It wasn't like she wanted to read the damn things anyway.

"How long-"

"About an hour." Levon answered, glancing at the doors. He bit his lower lip, wrapping his arms around himself. Joanne didn't think being cold had anything to do with the shiver she saw.

She tried not to read too much into the time. If it were just a flesh wound, something simple, an hour would be more than long enough for someone to have come out and talk to Levon. But one hour wasn't even close to being long enough if it were truly serious. She'd known accident victims that were in surgery for several hours at a time.

Joanne resisted the urge to join Levon in pacing. She eyed the clock. The lounge was so quiet it was easy to hear the clock tick. Not even Levon's measured steps covered the audible passing of time.

Joanne gave the clock a dirty look. She wondered if anyone would notice if she ripped the damn think off the wall. Probably not.

She spotted a small coffee maker similar to the ones often kept in hotels. Figuring they might need the fortification, Joanne started a pot. She compromised between making it stronger than she liked and weaker than she knew Levon would prefer.

The sound of the coffee perking nicely drowned out the clock. The fragrance took a bit of the sterile edge off the smell of the lounge. It was far from comfortable, but it was better Joanne decided.

She was getting ready to pour a cup when the surgery doors opened. Joanne studied the man approaching the lounge. She ignored the blood on his scrubs. That didn't mean anything; certainly not as much as his expression.

Shit. She'd seen that one a bit too often. He had bad news. From the way Levon's back stiffened she knew he thought the same thing.

"Are you here for Joseph Lafiamma?"

"Yeah." Levon's answer was barely audible. He looked decidedly pale. Joanne moved closer, ready to offer physical support as well as emotional if he needed it.

"I'm Doctor Anders. I was on Mr. LaFiamma's surgical team." Anders cleared his throat. "There were complications."

"Complications." Levon repeated warily, eyes narrowing. The muscle along his jaw flexed; Joanne could almost hear his teeth grinding.

"I'm sorry." Anders' tone was warm and gentle, and with another person it might have had the desired response.

Levon reached out and fisted a hand in his shirt, the hold tight enough to whiten his knuckles. "What do you mean, you're sorry?"

Anders eyes widened, but he didn't try to shake off Levon's hold. He raised a hand to curl around Levon's wrist. "Mr. LaFiamma…he didn't make it."

"That can't…." Levon shook Anders, pushing the man backward but not releasing his grip. "He wasn't hurt that bad. He wasn't." It was more a plea than a statement of fact. "He was breathing okay. His heartbeat…I saw it in the damn monitor in the ambulance. They said--"

"I'm sorry." Anders looked genuinely apologetic. "He'd lost too much blood before we could get a transfusion started. Clots can happen under those conditions. They can cause cardiac arrest or even a stroke if they move far enough. There was nothing we could do."

Levon shuddered, growing even more pale. Joanne put a hand under his elbow as a precaution. She'd never be able to hold his weight if he collapsed, but she could at least slow his descent to the floor.

"Levon?" She really didn't like his color.

Levon slowly released his hold on Anders. "I want to see him."

That didn't surprise Joanne. Levon would naturally want confirmation, to see with his own eyes that Joe was really dead. Joanne swallowed hard. How could he be… focus, woman, Joanne mentally berated herself, you can fall apart later, Levon needs you now.

"I'm not sure that's a good-"

"I want to see him, Joanne." Golden brown eyes speared her with a hard look. "I need to see him."

Anders shook his head. "I don't really think-"

"Shut up," Levon hissed. "You don't get a say."

"It's not a good idea for you to-"

Levon poked Anders in the chest, hard, forcing the doctor back a step. "Told you to shut up."

"Levon." Joanne grabbed his arm. "He's not the enemy."

"He killed Joe." Levon glared at Anders, grief and anger rolling off the blond in waves.

"No, he didn't." Joanne stepped in front of Levon, putting herself between her friend and the doctor. "You know better than that."

"He didn't save him," Levon's voice cracked, breaking for a moment under the strain. "Same damn thing."

Joanne could almost feel the doctor flinch. She felt bad for Anders, but he wasn't her concern at the moment, other than to make sure Levon didn't physically hurt him.

"Levon, that's enough." Joanne's tone was sharp, but not loud. Shouting had never been necessary to get Levon's attention.

"Ain't even close to enough. Joe is…gone." Levon's jaw tightened, his chin coming up in a stubborn expression Joanne was all too familiar with. "Someone will answer for that."

"Someone will," Joanne promised. They would make sure of it. "But the doctors aren't at fault here." She really hoped that was the case. If she found out it was negligence, Levon would be the least of the hospital's worries.

"Joe wouldn't want you to hurt an innocent bystander." Joanne carefully laid a hand on Levon's chest, keeping his focus on her. "He wouldn't want that."

Levon shook his head. He looked down at her, eyes bleak and cold. "What he wants don't matter a hell of a lot now, does it?"

Joanne tried not to wince. "You don't mean that."

Levon glared at her. "Don't tell me what I mean."

"Levon-"

"He's…dead." Levon swallowed hard, stumbling over the last word. Over bright eyes met hers squarely. "He wasn't supposed to die, Joanne." Levon's voice dropped to a harsh, pained whisper. "He wasn't supposed to do that, damn it."

"I know, honey, I know." Joanne reached up to cup his cheek.

Levon jerked away from her touch, his expression hardening again. Joanne could almost see him pulling a shield around himself. He didn't want and wouldn't accept sympathy or comfort. He hadn't when Caroline died either, damn the man.

Levon gave Anders a fierce look. "I want to see him." It was not a request.

Anders cleared his throat. "It will take us a few minutes to-"

"You got five." Levon's lips curled in a nasty smile. Joanne could hear that damn clock ticking again, marking out time.

"You really should give us a chance to clean him up a little." Anders' voice was still soft and gentle. Joanne gave him points for trying.

"Saw him bleeding his life out on the courthouse steps." The hand still holding Joe's pendant clenched into a tight fist. "Saw him in the ambulance on the way here. Pretty sure I can handle seeing him on a slab."

Joanne shivered. Those bare statements of fact, uncompromising and unforgiving, made the room seem a lot colder. 'Slab' sounded so damn final. It was final, she realized. Joe was dead. Her gut hurt just thinking about it.

She had a grief counselor's card in her purse. Levon certainly wouldn't use that service, but maybe they could give her guidance on how help him in spite of himself. Hell, she might need the counseling for herself when it was all said and done. She'd never lost one of her own before.

"We haven't moved him to the morgue yet." Anders pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand.

"Then I'll see him in surgery." Levon sounded reasonable, but there was no mistaking the 'giving no ground' look on his face.

"I..ah…,"Anders cleared his throat. "It's really not protocol to allow non-hospital personnel into a sterile room."

Levon arched an eyebrow. "Thinking he won't get an infection, Doc."

"No." Anders sighed. "But we might need the room again in short order." He squared his shoulders. "I won't be able to allow you in there for long." He looked away, eyes moving toward the doors he'd recently come through. "It's the best I can do unless you are willing to give me more time."

Levon closed his eyes and nodded sharply. "It'll do for now."

Joanne wasn't sure why he was being so stubborn about this, but now wasn't the time to ask. At least he hadn't totally withdrawn the way he had right after Caroline had been killed. He'd been completely silent for the better part of three days after that happened.

"I'll be back when I've got things set up."

"I'll be here." Levon pointed to the ticking clock. "Got four minutes and thirty three seconds. After that, I find him myself."

Joanne knew he was serious about that. So too did Anders, if his pensive expression was anything to go by. The doctor nodded once before headed back through the doors to the operating room.

Levon's attention was focused on the clock. Joanne grimaced. She should have torn the damn thing off the wall when she had a chance.

Joanne shook her head. She hoped Anders could get things set up in the time allotted. Trying to keep Levon in the lounge wouldn't be an option, not without drawing her gun. Somehow she didn't think her long time friend would believe her capable of shooting him. She couldn't see it deterring him much even if he did believe she'd do it.

Joanne wanted to say something, something that would help, but for the life of her she had no idea what. Even if Levon and Joe weren't a couple, they'd been partners for years--best friends and confidants, trusted each other implicitly. Death of one was bound to hit the other hard. This was going to be worse than Caroline. A lot worse.

Joanne liked it better when Levon was pacing. His focus on the clock was decidedly unnerving. She sighed silently. She hated feeling helpless.

She found herself tracking sweeping second hand. She'd never realized before just how long a few minutes could really be. Joanne could feel her anxiety rising with each sweep of the second hand. It felt like she was watching a timer on a bomb.

She gave the surgery doors a sour look. How long did it take to get a room ready for crying out loud? Levon was holding it together for now, but she had no idea how long he could continue to do so. Hell, she didn't know how much longer she would be able to either.

She stifled a sigh of relief when Anders reappeared. Levon barely acknowledged the man. He moved past him into the short hall. Joanne was hard on his heels.

"It's the-"

"Room with the doors propped open," Levon finished for him without looking back over his shoulder.

He hesitated for a moment in the door way. Joanne thought that he might have changed his mind, but Levon took a deep breath, his spine straightening as he crossed the threshold. She bit her lip and followed him.

She deliberately put off looking at the body on the table. Joanne winced. Joe had always been so energetic, so full of life. It was wrong to think of him as being a 'body'.

The refuse of the doctors' efforts to save Joe was gathered in one area. Joanne's jaw tightened as the sight and scent of blood hit her almost at the same time. Her eyes darted to the heart monitoring machine. The monitor's blank screen silent declared the obvious; no heartbeat.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to look at Joe. She made a note to thank Anders for making sure there was a clean sheet drawn up to cover everything but Joe's face. Somehow she didn't think either she or Levon could handle seeing Joe cut open or covered in blood.

Joe almost looked like he was sleeping. Almost. She'd never seen him that pale, or so still.

Levon stepped closer. Joanne could see his hand tremble as he reached out to touch Joe. Anders made some noise behind her, probably wanting to interfere. Joanne shot him a hard look, stopping him from saying or doing anything.

Levon lightly brushed his fingers through Joe's hair. Joanne flinched at the soft, choked sob Levon made. She thought he might actually break down and moved forward, but stopped herself from reaching out to him when she saw his lips compressed into a thin, hard line.

He took a slow, shaky breath before leaning forward and placing a kiss on Joe's forehead. Levon whispered something she couldn't hear, but she had no doubt he was making a promise. She hoped like hell someone found the sniper before Levon did.

Levon straightened up. He looked at Anders. "I want our coroner to do the autopsy."

Anders' eyes widened. Joanne was surprised to see him look uneasy. "An autopsy is standard procedure in a homicide," she reminded him.

"It can be done here," Anders' offered.

"No." Levon shook his head. He gave Anders a cold, appraising look. "If it was you fuckin' up that killed him, I want ta know that too."

Anders paled and then flushed. "We did not kill him."

"You better hope not," Levon whispered.

Joanne shivered. The quiet tone marked Levon at his most dangerous. Anders evidently realized that. He took a step backwards.

"You'll need to…ah," Anders coughed nervously, "You'll need to make arrangements at the front desk."

Levon nodded. Joanne couldn't be sure if his raising two fingers to the brim of his hat was a conscious salute or just habit. She suspected it was the latter.

Levon gave Joe's body one last look before he turned and walked away. Joanne moved quickly to follow. She had to stretch her legs to keep up with him. Joanne had forgotten just how fast he could move when he put his mind to it.

She knew he'd leave her behind if she didn't keep up. Fortunately, Joanne was also his ride. Even if he didn't know it yet. She mentally braced herself for the argument she knew was coming when she drove him to the ranch instead of back to the office.

Anders' breathed a soft sigh of relief when the two police officers left. The blond was one scary son of a bitch. "Being on that one's bad side is not a pleasant place to be."

He shook his head, dark eyes glancing to the man on the table. He envied the man having a friend like Levon Lundy. He hoped like hell someone would care that much when he was dead.

Anders jumped when he heard a throat clearing behind him. He spun, glaring that the man in a blue pinstripe suite. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Better question is what were they doing in here?"

"You try telling Levon Lundy no." Anders snorted. "Would love to see how well you do."

"I could have sworn we asked you not to complicate things, Doctor."

"I'm not sure how letting the man's partner see him is a complication."

"Don't be coy, Doctor."

Anders decided he preferred Lundy's direct and open threats. At least he knew where he stood with that man. Somehow I can't see him lurking in shadows or playing cloak and dagger games, Anders thought with a tired sigh.

"I have work to do."

The man nodded once. "We all do, Doctor. We all do."

Levon took a slow, deep breath. He held out his right hand, pleased to see it no longer shook, and that the knuckles weren't too badly swollen. Punching the wall wasn't his brightest move, but it beat the alternative.

His rage at Joanne for taking him to the ranch rather than the office had been so white hot, for a moment he'd been unable to control it. His first instinct had been to lash out at her. Levon was grateful she had the good sense to stay well out of reach.

Levon took another slow, deep breath. The shower had helped. Not that the water could make everything better. Nothing was ever going to be better. But at least he was clean. That had to count for something.

His bloody clothing was piled up on the bathroom floor. They weren't salvageable. Even if they were, Levon never wanted to see them again. He planned to burn them later.

With infinite care, Levon picked up Joe's pendant from where he'd hung it earlier on the hook his lover had placed next to the vanity. He swallowed painfully, jaw clenching against the sob that threatened to break free. He undid the clasp then placed the pendant around his own neck.

The metal felt cool against his skin, and he almost took it off again. Joe had worn the pendant every day since Levon had given it to him. It felt paradoxically right and wrong to see against his own chest instead of his lover's.

Levon left the bathroom and headed into the bedroom. He forced himself not to look at the bed. It was hard to believe it was just that morning they'd made love there, leaving the bed unmade because they were pressed for time.

He grabbed the first shirt he could find in the closet, making a conscious effort not to touch any of Joe's clothing. I'll have to do something with all his….Levon forcibly cut off that thought. None of that mattered. Not now. All that mattered was finding the miserable son of a bitch that killed Joe.

"I will find him," Levon whispered to himself. "I will find him, and make him pay."

He finished dressing quickly. If Joanne thought she'd be able to keep him here, she was sadly mistaken. It didn't matter that both the Jimmy and the Cobra were parked near the courthouse. He wasn't too far out for a cab. And Chicken would pick him up if need be. All he had to do was call and the big man would be at the ranch in no time.

Levon headed back to the living room. Joanne gave him a nervous look, but at least she didn't look afraid of him. He still felt bad about nearly hitting her. She was doing what she thought was right.

"Levon-"

"No."

"You don't even-"

"Yeah, I do know what you are going to say." Levon gave her a level look. He'd heard all of it before when Caroline was killed. 'It is too personal for you to be involved. Stay out of it. Let someone else handle it. You need to give yourself time to grieve and deal with your loss.'

His jaw clenched. He wasn't going to listen to all that bullshit again. It had been a mistake to listen then, and he wasn't going to make the same one twice.

"I am NOT going to just sit here and wait for other people to handle it."

"You are too close to this." Her voice was gentle, full of compassion and understanding he didn't want or need.

"That's why I can't let someone else handle it, Joanne." Levon was not going to back down. He couldn't. He had to find the guy who killed Joe. It was the last thing he'd ever do, and by god he was going to do it right.

"You need to-"

"I need to find the son of a bitch that killed, Joe." Levon cut her off. "I can't do that here."

Joanne hesitated. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she worked through the options. It didn't take her long to figure out she didn't have any. She had to know he'd work the case with or without her approval.

"You will not be going off half-cocked."

Levon knew she'd intended for that to be an absolute order, something he agreed to or she'd do her best to force him to stay at the ranch. So he nodded, fingers crossed behind his back. It wasn't his fault their definition of 'half-cocked' differed.

"No going off on your own either."

Levon fought back his instinctive declaration that he had a partner and didn't need another one. He hadn't been solo on the job in years. Not since Joe had come to Houston. His chest hurt thinking he was on his own now.

"I mean it, Levon." Joanne had apparently taken his silence for rebellion.

He nodded firmly once. He wasn't sure who the hell he'd be willing to work with at this point. It didn't matter. As long as whoever it was didn't get in the way or slow him down.

Joanne sighed. She squared her shoulders a bit. "Where to first?"

Levon silently let out the breath he'd been holding. "Need to pick up the Cobra."

Joanne nodded. "I'll drive."

He smirked. "Figured." He was willing to compromise for now. He had to.

While she drove, he went over what he knew about what happened. It helped deal with the nearly overwhelming sense of loss; he'd deal with the painful ache that settled in his chest later. He went over the order of events that happened only a few hours ago.

There had to be something there. The how might be the clue to the why. Once he got how and why, who shouldn't be too hard to figure out.

First order of business was the sniper's nest, Levon decided. He said as much to Joanne. She gave him a look but didn't argue.

Joanne followed him to the roof. They passed a few uniforms along the way. Most sent him sympathetic glances, the others were wary. Levon ignored them.

The sniper's nest was just down the street from the courthouse. It had a clear line of sight which meant the courthouse was probably not an accidental target. And the busted lock on the door that led to the roof made it clear the building hadn't been selected just as a moment of opportunity. It had been deliberately chosen.

The shooter could have just been some psycho bent on revenge, a rampage killing spree thing. Levon dismissed that option. The man would have emptied the gun if that was the case. Only three shots were fired, all placed in a limited area.

So who had been the target? Levon frowned as he crouched down where the sniper had to have been. Was this personal? Was Joe the intended target? He could have been. There were enough people seeking revenge out there it wasn't out of the question.

But Joe wasn't the only one shot. So maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Levon didn't know anything about the other victim. He made a note to find out.

"They find any brass?" he tossed over his shoulder to Joanne.

"One casing."

He looked at her in surprise. He hadn't expected that. A pro shouldn't have left it behind.

"Nearly missed the damn thing from what I've been told." She grimaced and pointed to a small crevice in the concrete. Sniper probably hadn't had time to grab it or might have over looked it.

"Annie has it now."

With any luck Annie would find something for them. Even if they just had a sense of what weapon the sniper had used, it would help. The distance of the shot alone meant he had to have some training.

Levon studied the kill zone, wincing mentally at the name. The whole front of the courthouse was still cordoned off as a crime scene. He took in the view and tried to envision the scene.

"When was the first shot fired?"

"Just a little before noon."

Levon bit his lip. The timing seemed significant. It had to be. Maximum damage would have been done when there were more people to shoot at. So the sniper had to be looking for someone specific.

He clearly remembered the people he'd seen crouching for cover behind the parked cars. There hadn't been that many. Ten, maybe fifteen at the most. He made another note to get a list of those people. It was possible one of them might have been the target. He didn't know where they'd been when the first shot was fired.

"Judge Reese has a schedule you could set a watch by," Levon murmured.

Joanne cocked her head, looking at him and then toward the courthouse. "Related to Joe's case, you think?"

Levon shook his head. "Not directly."

"Why?"

"If it was, sniper would have taken the shots before court started." Levon's jaw tightened. "Joe should have already testified by noon."

Joanne nodded. "I'll check with the DA and make sure."

"Think those are still working?" Levon pointed to the surveillance cameras that perched atop the courthouse. They'd been added a year ago in response to death threats being levied against one of the judges.

"Already requested copies of the tapes."

"Good."

He gave the rooftop one final look. Levon didn't really expect to find anything. The tech guys were thorough and efficient. He just needed to see it to understand a little more about the quality and nature of the shooter.

He headed for the door and down the stairs. Fingerprint powder dusted the handrail, but Levon didn't think they'd find anything. If the guy knew what he was doing he'd have worn gloves. It was really just dumb luck they'd found the casing.

Levon briefly considered heading to the courthouse steps, but decided there was nothing to be learned there. The video would give him a better idea of what had actually happened. And he really didn't need to see the blood stain that he knew discolored the marble where Joe and the stranger had lay bleeding.

"They find any slugs?" Levon pointed to the courthouse.

"Found one too badly mangled to be of any use." Joanne shook her head. "Rest…we'll need to wait for autopsy to know."

Levon hid a wince. He didn't want to think about that. Not now. He'd been right. There was nothing at the courthouse to see.

He headed for the parking deck where Joe had probably left the Cobra. Joanne followed him. He tried not to be annoyed.

Levon pulled the spare keys from his pocket. Joe's keys had been in his personal effects, but Levon hadn't been able to bring himself to use them. He just couldn't.

"I'll meet you back at the station."

Joanne shook her head. "I'll come with you."

"You gonna leave your car here?"

"I'll send someone for it." She shrugged. "Perk of the job."

Levon bit back a nasty comment about not needing a babysitter. Once they got to the station he'd have no trouble ditching her. Administrative stuff would pull her away. And she'd assign someone else to shadow him, hopefully someone he could lose.

He opened the door rather than step over it. He couldn't be disrespectful of Joe's car. Not now. God what the hell was he going to do with the Cobra? Levon took a deep breath and filed that under things he wasn't going to have to deal with.

The car purred to life just like it always did. Levon patted the steering wheel fondly. He put it in gear and headed for the office.

He was glad Joanne didn't try to talk to him. Levon preferred to spend the time think through what he wanted to do. The video, he decided was the first thing he needed to see. It would give him a sense of the order of events. Then he wanted to know more about the stranger and the other people who'd been outside the courthouse. If he could pin down the target, he'd have a better idea of why the shooter wanted him or her dead, which should give him a good lead on who the shooter was. Or at least who might have hired the bastard.

Levon drove with an ingrained, nearly instinctive skill. He wasn't paying much attention to the traffic around him, until he realized a sedan was following a bit more closely than it should be. He glanced over at Joanne.

"You notice we got a tail?"

She flipped down the visor, looking like she was checking her reflection while she eyed the car behind them. "Dark blue sedan?"

"Yep."

"Can you lose them?"

"Do we want to?" Levon countered. They had no idea who was following, or why. Losing them seemed a bit premature.

Joanne pursed her lips, clearly following his line of thought. "Let's see if they follow us all the way to the office. We can always run the plates."

Levon nodded. It might be nothing, just a coincidence, but he didn't really believe that.

"This could mean you and Joe were both targets," Joanne said quietly. "Protective custody might-"

"No," Levon snapped out forcefully, managing not to shout. He was not about to be locked away and watched like some prisoner.

"Levon-"

"No." He gave her a hard look. "We don't even know yet IF Joe was the target."

"Well the tail we picked up sure seems to suggest-"

Levon held up a hand, stopping her. "I want to view the tapes from the courthouse. I need to find out more about the guy who got killed and the other people that might have been targets too. That's at least a couple of hours at the office."

"We can find out who those guys are," Levon pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, "by then."

"And if they are related to the shooting in any way-"

"We'll argue about protective custody again."

She glared at him. Levon ignored her. He checked to make sure their tail was still there. They'd backed off as he got closer to the station, but were still following.

As Levon pulled into the parking garage the sedan passed them. He made a note of the plate number. He knew Joanne did too.

"You wanna run it?"

"Yes."

He'd expected that. She wouldn't want to be left out of the loop and didn't trust him to keep her informed. Levon had always respected her intelligence. She knew him well.

Levon took a slow deep breath before he got out of the car. He knew he was going to be receiving a lot of sympathetic or worried glances. They had to know by now what happened.

"You okay?" Joanne laid a hand on his arm.

"It wasn't any picnic with Caroline," Levon stated quietly, shuddering at the memories that arose from that time. "This is going to be so much worse."

"You up for this?"

"I have to be." Levon took another deep breath.

He got out of the car. He squared his shoulders. He'd handled it before, he could do it again. Joe would be counting on him to find his killer. He couldn't let him down.

Levon took the stairs rather than the elevator. He knew he was simply delaying the inevitable, but he couldn't help wanting to avoid people for as long as possible. Joanne kept pace with him, offering silent support.

Levon held the door for her when they got to their floor. "I'll find out where the videos are and have them brought to you," Joanne said as she passed, patting his arm.

Levon nodded. He'd put a call into one of the tech guys and see if he could get a room. He'd check in with Annie too. She might have something on that casing by now.

Levon studiously ignored the rest of the office as he made his way to his desk. He didn't look at Joe's desk either. It hurt too much to see that empty space and know it would remain that way.

He picked up the phone, finger poised to dial when Carol approached his desk. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Levon looked away. He knew she read his body language correctly, when she turned and walked away without saying a word. He'd have to thank her later.

Levon was damn glad the tech guys knew enough to just agree to what he was asking for. He didn't want to have to explain it. He'd have ripped into them if they'd asked too many questions or said too much. They didn't deserve the brunt of his anger.

Esteban approached his desk carrying several video tapes. "Lieutenant asked me to help," he offered quietly.

Levon hesitated. He didn't want help. Didn't want to deal with another person.

"Por favor, Levon." Esteban's dark eyes met his evenly. "He was my friend too."

Levon closed his eyes, nodding slowly. He'd expected to be assigned someone. Esteban was as good choice as any. They'd worked well together in the past. And he was right, Joe was his friend too. It wouldn't be right to deny him a chance to help nail the bastard who'd killed him.

Esteban followed him down to the tech lab he'd secured. Levon was grateful the building seemed oddly deserted. He wouldn't put it past Joanne to have sent out a memo or made a few calls or something to get people to back off. He'd have to remember to thank her. He had a feeling he'd be thanking a lot of people before all was said and done.

Levon let the Hispanic cop set up the equipment. He took a slow deep breath, trying to prepare himself to watch his best friend and lover get shot. He unconsciously fingered Joe's pendant.

"This one is the North camera." Esteban pointed at one TV. He nodded to another. "This one is the South."

Levon nodded. The angles would be slightly different. No telling which would give them the best view of events until the tapes had been reviewed.

"Cue up North first," Levon directed. Based on where he'd found Joe and the stranger on the steps Levon thought that would probably give them the best view.

"From the beginning?"

"Yeah."

Esteban found the right day and then fast forwarded through the early morning hours. He slowed it to normal speed when people began arriving. The first were naturally courthouse personnel. Levon recognized several of the clerks and bailiffs. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

As the time stamp got closer to 9:00 am, activity picked up. Lawyers, political types and reporters began appearing. Levon sat forward, watching more closely.

He struggled to breathe normally when he spotted Joe amidst the sparse crowd. Even without being able to see his face, Levon knew it was Joe. Forcing himself to look away he ordered Esteban to stop the tape so he could deliberately scan the crowd, examining the entire frame. He pointed to a man only a few feet from Joe.

"That's our other victim." Levon glanced over at Esteban. "We got an ID on him yet?"

"Not yet." Esteban shook his head. "Body and effects only got to the morgue a little before you got here."

Levon frowned. "Should have-"

"Was an accident on the freeway." Esteban made a helpless gesture with one hand. "Hospital got busy. Morgue deliveries were not a priority."

Levon nodded. The living should take precedence over the dead. He'd check in with the morgue after they were done here.

Esteban started the tape again, in slow motion. Levon eyed each frame. His eyes narrowed as he watched the action unfold frame by frame.

"It me or does it look like our stranger is keeping tabs on Joe?"

"It's not you." Esteban sat forward. "He is shadowing Joe."

"Coincidence?"

Esteban grimaced. "No creo."

"Yeah. Me neither."

Esteban fast forwarded the tape through the midmorning hours. The only activity around the courthouse then was infrequent. There was nothing obvious or helpful there. Levon wished the focus of the camera wasn't fixed on the front steps and portico. He would have liked a wider view that took in the buildings across the street.

Esteban slowed the tape again as the time stamp got closer to noon. Levon spotted Judge Reese's bailiff leaving the courthouse. The man slowed to talk to a woman Levon thought might be one of the clerks responsible for transcription in Reese's courtroom. Behind them he saw a few other people he thought he might have seen hiding near the cars when he'd arrived at the scene.

"We get a list of names for the people who'd been outside?"

Esteban nodded. "Joe-Bill and Legs are talking to them."

Levon absorbed that bit of information. He knew he wouldn't be able to control all aspects of the investigation. No matter how much he wanted to. He had to pick his battles with care on this one.

Esteban advanced the film slowly. Levon watched as Joe left the building. He clenched his hand into a fist, trying to prepare himself for what he knew was about to happen.

He could tell from Joe's stride and set of his shoulders that he was relaxed and happy. The case must have gone well. It was oddly comforting to know things had gone well for Joe that morning.

Levon's gaze narrowed. Joe's shadow was there again. Just who the hell was that guy?

He watched at he man looked up, toward the building where the sniper's nest had been found. What had he seen?

"Back it up," Levon instructed Esteban. "Advance one frame at a time."

The camera didn't catch anything that Levon could see that would have caught the other man's attention. But if the sniper had a laser scope the red light would have been lost in grainy black and white footage. The angle of the camera wasn't giving them a frontal view either.

The stranger narrowed the gap between him and Joe. He must have said something because Joe turned looking back over his shoulder. The man reached Joe, pushing or pulling him to the side. It was hard to tell for sure.

Levon flinched when he saw what he knew was a bullet hit Joe in the shoulder. His lover moved in response to the force of it, and fell to the marble steps where Levon had found him. The stranger fell a second later.

Levon clenched his jaw. "Rewind it." He wanted, needed to be sure of the sequence of things.

Joe was hit first. Shooter had a clear line of sight. No mistaking the target. The stranger, whatever he was doing shadowing Joe, clearly didn't have a sinister intent. At least not when it came to what happened on the courthouse steps.

"Need to know who the hell he was." He'd tried to save Joe. Levon owed it to the guy to find his family, see to it he was buried proper. And he wanted to know what the man was doing at the courthouse. Did he know something?

"Concuerdo." Esteban nodded. He reached for the phone. "I'll call the morgue and see if they've got his stuff yet. Can have that sent up to us at least."

Levon hit the eject button, removing the first tape. He cued up the other one. He hoped it had a better view of events.

Esteban hung up after a brief conversation. "Annie is having the guy's things sent to us here."

"Good." Levon started the second tape. The angle gave him a clearer view of Joe's face as he entered the courthouse, but not much else was different.

He mentally cursed the limited scope of the camera. Even with a better shot of the front steps and sidewalk there was still no view of the street and buildings beyond. Damn.

He forced himself to watch Joe getting shot again, deliberately ignoring the action in favor of trying to catch more of what was going on elsewhere. He watched the civilians ducking for cover, watched for any more shots fired. The limited number of shots was another bit of evidence that proved Joe was the target. The sniper quit firing when he was down; no random shots at other targets. Man was definitely a professional.

"You catch anything?" Levon asked hoping that maybe Esteban had seen something he hadn't.

"Same as the first one." Esteban pursed his lips, looking as frustrated as Levon felt. Dark eyes narrowed as they studied the TV screen. "Miserable bastard was aiming for Joe."

A soft knock at the door announced the arrival of the stranger's personal effects. Levon let Esteban open the door. The fewer people he had to talk to the better. He didn't care if it made him cowardly or selfish.

Esteban placed himself in the doorway, effectively blocking the courier's view in the room. He took the proffered box with a soft 'thanks' and shut the door.

"Gracias." He dipped his head to Esteban.

"De nada." Esteban gave him a sympathetic, understanding look.

Esteban set the box on the table. There wasn't much inside: A watch, a wallet, another billfold, some loose change and a few pieces of paper. Levon hoped it was enough to give them something to go on. The guy clearly knew something and had acted to help.

Curiosity piqued by the plain billfold, Levon reached for that first. He cursed softly when he saw what was with in. "A fucking fed."

"OCB?" Esteban frowned, looking confused.

"Organized Crime Bureau." Levon snarled. "Part of the FBI. They keep track of the mob."

"Related to Joe's familia then?"

Levon nodded tersely. Everyone knew about Joe's family. Everyone knew about why he'd been exiled from Chicago. But that didn't explain why the hell a fed would be shadowing him.

"Joe isn't a part of that shit." Levon growled. He shook his head. "He wasn't…he didn't have anything to-"

"I know." Esteban interrupted, one hand encircling Levon's wrist, forcing him to let go of the billfold he'd been crushing.

Levon took a deep breath and released it slowly. He had to get a grip on himself. Just have to see this through, he mentally reminded himself, see it through and after that you can fall apart.

Levon glanced down at the federal ID. Carson Hughes. Whatever else he'd been, the man had tried to help and he'd died making the effort.

He reached for the wallet. Inside was the usual stuff: drivers license, credit card, social security card, two tens and a twenty. What caught Levon's attention was a hotel key card. He removed it, holding it between two fingers.

"Might be our next stop."

"Driver's license is from Illinois." Esteban tapped the photo ID. "Senor Hughes is a long way from home."

Levon noticed the empty holster. He wondered if the Hughes had left his gun somewhere safe knowing he couldn't take it into the courthouse. Joe's were still in the glove box of the Cobra. He needed to make sure they were secured.

Levon unfolded the pieces of paper not at all surprised to find a court schedule and a picture of Joe. He offered them to Esteban. It was confirmation of what they'd already seen.

They'd established Joe was the target. Now they needed to determine why, and how, a fed figured into that. He was willing to bet a week's pay the sedan that had followed him and Joanne would prove to be tied to the FBI somehow too. He didn't believe in coincidences, and he'd yet to see the feds travel solo. They moved in packs, like wolves or hyenas.

Levon tossed everything, including the videos back into the box. "We'll lock this up and head out."

Esteban nodded. "Let us go see what more the gringo's room will tell us."

Levon sighed quietly. He was tired. No he was more than tired, he was exhausted.

He eyed the rising sun, not at all pleased to see it. This marked the third one since the shooting and he hadn't slept since then. He couldn't. Every time he lay down and closed his eyes he saw Joe bleeding his life out on the courthouse steps. Levon kept reaching for Joe, hoping to find him and realize it was just a nightmare. But the cool sheets that met his hand and empty bed hammered home the painful truth every time.

Levon clenched his jaw fighting off the images that were indelibly imprinted on his mind's eye. He winced when a dull ache reminded him he'd been clenching his teeth far too often lately.

He stared at the phone. The call had to be made. Putting it off wouldn't make it better or easier.

Levon had fought with Joanne about calling Joe's family. He hadn't wanted to call them until they had Joe's killer. He wanted to have that closure to give them. Wanted to have that closure for himself. Unfortunately, the only way he'd find it was by making the call.

"Fucking feds," Levon cursed softly. They knew more than they were telling. What he didn't understand was why they didn't seem interested in doing more to help find the sniper--he'd killed one of their own after all.

They wouldn't explain Carson Hughes presence at the courthouse. They'd even gone so far as to try denying him being there at all. Levon grimaced. It was just more proof to him that the FBI wasn't the brain trust they tried to portray themselves as.

He really wanted a stiff drink, but he'd smashed every bottle of alcohol in the house the night Joe died. He wasn't going down that road again. He'd very nearly given into the temptation when the hospital let him know they'd managed to misplace Joe's body.

Levon's hands curled into fists. He'd been distractedly aware that the pile up on the freeway that happened the same day as the shooting would cause problems, but he'd never expected it would lead to the hospital losing Joe. He'd ripped into the bearer of that bad news. If Esteban hadn't been close at hand, Levon would have used his fists in addition to harsh words to get his point across.

So now he not only had to tell Joe's Uncle Mikey that his nephew was dead, he had to tell him the hospital had misplaced the body, and ask if the man knew anything about a possible mob hit that would help nail Joe's killer. "Nothing quite like covering all the bases," Levon muttered to himself.

He took a breath and picked up the phone. He dialed the number from memory. He closed his eyes as he listened to the rings, torn between hoping someone would answer quickly and wishing no one would.

"LaFiamma residence."

Levon didn't recognize the voice. "I need to speak to Michael LaFiamma, please."

"And you are?"

"Levon Lundy." Levon hesitated for only a moment. "It's about his nephew, Joe."

"Joey?"

Levon flinched hearing the nickname said with such affection and familiarity. "Yes."

There was a small pause and Levon realized something in his voice must have relayed this wasn't a social call. It was probably a good thing. At least Mikey would be prepared.

"Is it bad?"

How the hell was he supposed to answer that? The truth was all he had to offer. "Yeah."

"Hold on. I'll get Mikey."

Levon took another slow deep breath. He'd met Michael LaFiamma only once more than four years ago. But he had no trouble picturing the man. Broad shouldered, still a fit man for his age, a bit of gray showing at his temples, sharp blue eyes. Joe would probably have looked a bit like him in another decade if he'd-Levon sharply cut off that train of thought.

"This is Mikey."

"I don't know if you remember me or not, Sir." He owed the man at least that much respect.

"I remember you." The gravelly voice was neutral. "My sister, Rosa, speaks highly of you."

"I have-"

"Bad news." Mikey finished for him. He sounded as though he was bracing himself. Levon could relate all too well to that. "Give it to me."

"Friday, shortly before noon….Joe was shot and killed on the courthouse steps." God, it hurt to say it out loud.

"Friday," Mikey breathed out in a harsh whisper. "Why am I only learning of this now?"

"I needed time to find his killer."

"Does this walking corpse have a name?"

"No, Sir." Levon pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I've gone as far as I can with the investigation, but the FBI is stonewalling me."

"The feds." It wasn't quite a curse but it was close.

"Yeah." Levon gave Mikey the facts of the case; the trail he'd followed up to this point. It was a huge break in protocol, but Levon didn't care.

"Is there something going on in Chicago?" Levon asked quietly. "Nothing we found ties into anything here."

Mikey sighed softly. "There is some…unrest here."

"And that translates into what exactly?" Levon knew the question was more of a demand, but he didn't give a damn.

"Transition of power in another family."

Levon considered that. He didn't even pretend to understand the politics that ruled Mob families, but transition of power didn't sound like a good thing. It could mean anything from an old Don dieing to an all out coup.

Mikey sighed softly. "Hostilities have become a bit less discrete."

Levon grimaced. "War?"

"Not openly declared." Mikey's tone clearly said that was about to change. "There were rumblings and posturing, but they have not challenged me on my own turf. Going after Joey is a clear sign that old allegiances and truces are not being honored."

Levon grimaced. He wasn't sure what deal with the devil had been made to call off the hit that had been part of Joe's exile to Houston. He hadn't wanted to know. And after four years, Levon hadn't thought it mattered any more. Clearly, he was wrong.

"Can you get me a name?"

There was a brief hesitation from Mikey. "Give me one hour."

"You need the number?"

"I already have it."

Levon nodded to himself. He should have expected that. "Will you…tell the rest of the family or do you want me-"

"Thank you for the offer, Mr. Lundy." Mikey cut him off gently. "It would be best if they hear it from me I think. They can all be told at once."

"Thank you."

"You'll keep me posted?"

"Yes, Sir." Levon responded, recognizing there was more order than request in the question. He cleared his throat. "The rest of the family…You'll make sure they are okay?" He worried about the members of Joe's family he knew and even the ones he'd never met. He didn't want any more of Joe's kin to fall victim to a feud they might have had nothing to do with.

"I have failed to protect my family once, Mr. Lundy. I will not do so again."

"Good." Levon didn't know if Mikey could keep that promise, but he sure as hell hoped so. Forewarned was forearmed, or so he'd heard.

Levon pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "I'll wait for your call."

"Rosa will want to talk to you, I'm sure." Mikey was clearly asking if Levon wanted to speak to her or for him to run interference.

Levon fingered Joe's pendant, considering the offer. He'd found himself doing that more and more often. "Tell her…tell Rosa I'll call her."

"You take care of yourself, you hear."

Levon sighed silently. He had enough people worrying about him. "Plan to." At least until he had Joe's sniper behind bars or in a pine box, either worked for him.

A name made it easy. It was like having a keystone that brought everything else into place. Airline passenger lists could be checked, cab and rental companies examined, hotels and credit cards inspected. In the end, finding Marcus Franco wasn't particularly hard to do.

Levon wasn't sure why the miserable bastard was even still in town. By all rights he should have left Houston. He should have headed back to Chicago and the Marconi family, now headed by a young, up and comer, Alex Marconi. Alex was anxious to prove himself worthy of his new status as head of the family, and didn't consider himself bound to old allegiances or agreements. He was testing the boundaries and looking to expand.

Levon grinned savagely. Alex was going to find out the hard way there were sharks in the water. The Texan had no doubt that Mikey would take care of the upstart, one way or another. That left Franco for Levon.

He nodded to Esteban, letting the other man kick the door in. Levon had forgone his Colt in favor of Joe's guns. It was a way to have Joe there with him, let his partner be part of the action and bring his killer to justice.

Franco was on the bed, clearly startled by their sudden appearance. He was reaching for a gun on the night stand when Levon entered the room. Levon voiced a warning, but Franco caught up the gun anyway.

"Drop it now," Levon ordered, training his aim on the man's chest.

Franco sneered. Blue eyes narrowed as his gaze shifted from Levon to Esteban and back. "Or what? You going to kill me, Pig?"

"Yep."

Levon's short answer was obviously not what the man had been expecting. Franco's gaze shifted again. Esteban's expression was just as cold and set as Levon's.

"Put it down," Levon ordered softly. "Or I'll put you down. Capisce?"

Franco very slowly lowered his gun to the bed, releasing it with exaggerated care. He raised both hands, palms up in a gesture of surrender. Levon forcefully stifled the urge to shoot the son of a bitch anyway.

He let Esteban cuff the Franco. Levon didn't trust himself not to hurt the man. He wasn't going to show up at the PD with bruises or a hair out of place. This case was not going to be lost on a brutality charge.

Esteban read Franco his rights. Franco sneered. He opened his mouth to say something, but Esteban lightly smacked the back of his head.

"Best you remain silent, muchacho."

Once he was sure Esteban had Franco secured, Levon gave a quick search the room. He wasn't too surprised to find a sniper rifle, broken down, in a silver case under the bed. Smart thing would have been to dump it. But then leaving town would have been the smart thing too. Levon also found a copy of the court docket and details regarding Joe's scheduled appearance.

"Not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you boy?" Levon shook his head when Franco glared at him.

Joe deserved better than to be brought down by someone like this, Levon thought angrily. He forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. He couldn't afford to lose it now. This was close to being finished, he had to hold it together and see it through to the end.

"Let's get Einstein here to the station." Esteban had a firm grip on Franco's upper arm. If the man gave him any trouble, Levon knew Esteban wouldn't hesitate to push the bastard down a flight of stairs. And Franco was smart enough to know better than to give him reason to.

Levon gathered what he'd found, giving the room one more quick once over. It looked like Franco had been staying in the room since the shooting. He didn't understand why the man had hung around. There had to be a reason. With any luck he'll crack during interrogation, Levon thought.

He knew better than to think Joanne would let him handle that. If she knew he was here, she'd have his ass. He'd have to thank Legs and Joe-Bill for running interference.

Levon nodded to the tech guys who'd waited outside for the all clear. They'd find anything he might have missed, but Levon wasn't letting what he had found out of his sight. Just like he'd made sure the warrant was signed, sealed and delivered before arranging the bust. Everything by the numbers.

Levon followed Esteban to the squad car. He'd had the Jimmy towed to the garage rather than take time to retrieve it from where he'd haphazardly parked it a block from the courthouse. It was ready for him to pick up whenever he wanted it, but he hadn't found time to retrieve it.

He'd been driving the Cobra, but had continued Joe's habit of leaving it at the police garage. Levon didn't want anything to happen to the car. It didn't have the room needed to pick up Franco anyway, so the squad car just made sense.

Levon let Esteban drive. He knew himself well enough to know he was not prepared emotionally or physically to handle Houston traffic. Too little sleep, too much rage, adrenaline and coffee. It was a bad combination.

He watched Franco in the review mirror. The man didn't look much. But Levon could see it in his eyes. The man was a killer. No doubt about it. He knew Franco saw the same thing in his eyes when the man looked away.

Levon smiled coldly. Texas courts would see Franco on a slab for killing a cop. It might take years, but ultimately it would happen.

Levon ignored the concerned glances Esteban sent his way. He knew he looked rough around the edges, bloodshot eyes, gaunt and hard. But Levon didn't care. How he appeared to others was the least of his worries.

They pulled into the station with little fuss or fanfare. Levon was glad not very many people knew where he and Esteban had been headed. He wasn't up for dealing with gawkers. And he didn't want any misplaced vengeance seekers either. This bust and everything that happened afterward had to be clean.

They managed to get Franco into an interrogation room easily enough. But Levon could feel something wasn't right. The atmosphere of the building was off somehow. He knew it wasn't his imagination when he traded a look with Esteban. The other cop felt it too.

It didn't take long to find the problem. Not when the problem found them. Levon cursed. Fucking feds. He should have known.

He glared at the two suits that flanked Joanne. Levon jerked his head, signaling to Esteban to stay with the hit man. He closed the door, cutting off the feds view of Franco.

"Problem, Lieutenant?"

Joanne glared at him. It looked like she'd been clenching her jaw for awhile. Levon could sympathize.

"You shouldn't have been there."

Levon raised his chin in defiance. "Was nowhere else for me to be."

She sighed. "It was by the book?"

Levon nodded, not insulted by the question. "All the way." He gave her 'honor guard' a hard look. "But I got a feeling that won't matter to Frick and Frack here."

He could see her stifle a smile. Joanne waved a hand to the man on her left. "Agent Simmons." She repeated the gesture for the man on her right. "Agent Kelley."

"Let me guess, they're here to take Franco."

"He killed a federal agent."

Levon fixed Kelley with an icy gaze. Yesterday they weren't even willing to claim Hughes as one of their own. "He killed my partner."

"There are bigger issues here," Simmons stated firmly.

"Bigger?" Levon growled. He stepped forward. "What the fuck could possibly be more important?"

"He is just a link in a chain, Lundy." Simmons smiled coldly. Levon's hands balled into fists as he fought the urge to belt the man.

"If we can turn Franco, we can take down a big part of the Marconi family."

Levon couldn't help it. He hit him, hard, putting all his frustration and rage into that one strike, knocking the man on his ass. Turning Franco would mean nothing. Not a god damn thing. Michael LaFiamma would probably ice the man who hired Franco before the Feds could even come close to picking him up. They had to know that. They'd been watching the family for years; there was no way they couldn't know.

Levon didn't know if Kelley was moving to defend his partner or attack, but he leveled a glare at the man, stopping him in his tracks. "Don't you make me belt you one too."

"Just…be cool, man." Kelley held up his hands in a universal gesture of surrender. "We got a job to do just like you."

"Not just like me." Levon snarled. "Yours isn't about justices, you shit. And you know it. It's about making a fucking deal."

"The greater good-"

"Bullshit." Levon glared. He didn't want to hear a cliché or party line. "Franco may be a small fry but the son of bitch is a killer. Man shouldn't get a walk on murder."

"He's not going to walk."

"Don't play poker," Levon snorted. "You'll lose your shirt."

Simmons slowly got to his feet, rubbing his jaw. "He's telling you the truth."

"Then you better lie a damn sight better than he does cause that son of a bitch in there," Levon pointed with this thumb over his shoulder to the interrogation room, "isn't going to give you squat for less than a full ride."

"Levon." Joanne's sharp tone commanded his attention. He'd honestly forgotten she was in the room. "Enough."

Levon ground his teeth. He wanted to snap at her, but fought back the impulse. She was still his boss, still someone he respected. Joe wouldn't have liked it if he went off on her for doing her job.

"You are not going to just let them-"

"I can't stop them." She sighed softly, apology written all over her-voice, expression, body language. "Believe me, Levon, I tried."

He didn't doubt she had. Joe was one of hers. She'd have done everything in her power to see his killer dealt with by them, in the state of Texas.

His gaze narrowed, shifting to look at Kelly and then Simmons. "You knew."

"Knew what?" Simmons arched an eyebrow and tried to look nonchalant. He failed miserably. Joanne looked from Simmons to Levon, her gaze a silent question.

Simmons made an effort to placate him, "Look, Lundy, I know you're upset-"

"Shut up," Levon ordered. Upset didn't even begin to cover it. He was livid.

He reached out and fisted Simmons suit coat in a tight grip, jerking the man forward so that his face was only an inch from Levon's own. "You pricks knew Marconi was stirrin' things up in Chicago. Knew he was too chicken shit to challenge Mikey directly just yet. You knew he put a hit on Joe. And you didn't say a thing. Not. One. Damn. Word." He punctuated each word with a relentless tightening of his grip, twisting the fabric so that to steadily choke Simmons.

"Your guy at the courthouse wasn't there to keep an eye out for Joe, was he? He wasn't there to offer warning or keep Joe safe." Levon snarled, daring Simmons to contradict him, even though the man didn't look like he could actually draw enough air to breathe much less speak. "He was there looking for Franco. Was supposed to find your linchpin for bringing down Marconi. Never mind if it took Joe dieing to do it, right?"

"Levon, let go." Joanne laid a hand on his wrist. "Don't do this, please."

It was the please that did it, cutting through his anger. Levon thrust Simmons away from him, sparing a warning glace for Kelley when the man moved to help his partner. "You guys already had time to get the whole jurisdictional crap taken care of, 'cause you knew how it would play out. Didn't you?"

Kelley shook his head. "We didn't expect it to go down the way it did." He gave Levon an earnest look. "Hughes was there to look out for Joe. He died doing it."

Levon swallowed hard and he nodded once. He had to give Kelley that much. He'd seen it for himself on the video feed. Hughes had taken two hits to the chest while trying to save Joe. Even if he was just following orders, Levon had to give the man the respect that act warranted.

"We didn't have time to warn your partner," Simmons wheezed out.

"A phone call doesn't take that damn long," Levon ground out. The lie was weak and from the look in his face, Simmons knew it.

"Was better to do it face to face," Simmons countered. "He didn't know us. Might not have trusted us to be telling the truth."

Levon sneered. "Yeah, and lets not overlook how Joe being on alert might have made it just that much harder for you to track down Franco. Until Franco took a shot, you had nothing to hold over him. Can't flip him without leverage, right?"

Kelley looked away, embarrassed. Simmons was defiant.

"Why is Franco even still in Houston for you to find?" Levon asked pointedly, that fact still nagging him. By all rights Franco should have been on the first flight or bus out of town, rented a car--something, anything but waiting around for him and Esteban to beat the FBI to scooping him up.

"Marconi always asks for proof the job is done," Kelley answered, disregarding Simmons' quelling glance. "He won't pay in full until he has it."

"Proof?" Joanne interjected quietly, but firmly, demanding clarification more than just asking for it.

"Pictures of the corpse. Body parts. Proof." Kelley winced, looking a little green. "He asked for a guy's head once."

"You fuckers," Levon cursed as another moment of comprehension dawned. "There was no screw up at the hospital or the morgue. You guys had Joe's body hidden so you could keep Franco in town."

Kelley looked uneasy, glancing toward Simmons. Levon wasn't sure what passed between them, but it was an admission of guilt as far as he was concerned. They had something to do with Joe's body going missing. He found that almost more heinous than their culpability in Joe's death. Franco had pulled the trigger, probably would have whether the FBI were in town or not. Levon could have informed Joe's family much sooner, could have acted on his own plans for closure that much sooner.

Levon took a slow deep breath. "You will release Joe's body."

Kelley swallowed, adam's apple bobbing nervously. "That's not really…I mean-"

"You will release his body," Levon reiterated softly. It was not a request.

"We can't do that yet." Simmons cleared his throat.

"Why?" Joanne beat Levon to the question, her tone sharp enough to cut steel.

"We don't have him," Kelley blurted out under the weight of Levon's unwavering glare.

"You-don't-have-him." Levon repeated slowly, carefully annunciating each word. "You want to explain that?"

"We have a suspect to question." Simmons squared his shoulders.

"Oh, I think he can wait." Levon faced off against Simmons.

Simmons looked toward Joanne. If he was expecting help from her, he was sadly mistaken.

"We have Agent Hughes' body in our morgue." Joanne pointed out calmly. "His family knows where he is, and will be able to lay him to rest. Mr. LaFiamma's family deserves the same consideration."

"His mobster family in Chicago?" The derision was clear in Simmons tone.

"Joseph LaFiamma was a highly decorated police officer, Agent Simmons." Joanne's gaze was icy. "His relatives in Chicago are not his only family. You would do well to remember that."

She nodded once seeing them looking suitably chagrined. "We'll release Hughes' body when you give us Joe." She raised a hand when Kelley opened his mouth. "I'm sure you can explain the delay to his family. Hopefully with better grace and skill than you have displayed so far."

Levon took savage satisfaction in seeing both agents blanch in response to Joanne's declaration. It felt almost as good as hitting Simmons had.

Joanne stepped over to the interrogation room door. She tapped lightly before opening it. She called out to Esteban and motioned him to come out.

She tipped her head to Kelley and Simmons. "Your suspect awaits gentlemen."

Levon was tempted to protest but knew it would be pointless. He hated politics. Hated that so much of this was simply beyond his control. Hated that Joe was be victim of a dispute that was supposed to be settled years ago. And he really hated the FBI for not doing more to prevent this.

Levon moved toward the observation room. He wanted to see how Simmons and Kelley handled the interrogation. Joanne stepped in front of him, blocking his access.

"Go home, Levon."

"You can't be-"

"You are wound so tight I can almost hear you vibrating." Her voice was soft, understanding, but firm. "You haven't been eating or sleeping. And you nearly strangled a federal agent."

Levon rolled his eyes. "Simmons deserved a whole lot more."

"Yeah, he did." She gave him a small smile. "But I can't let you do things like that."

Levon looked away, ashamed of his own lack of control. "Not sure you could have stopped me."

"Not sure I wanted to." Joanne sighed. "I doubt he'll press any charges. And if he does, I'll handle it." She gave him a pointed look. "Which means you'll go home with a suspension. Starting now."

Levon glared at her. "The investigation-"

"Is finished," she cut him off. "You've done as much as you can. More than anyone had any right to expect."

She reached out and very carefully laid a hand on his shoulder before leaning in so that what she said was for him alone. "You got Joe's killer. Now you have to find a way to handle the rest."

Levon flinched. "It's not finished until Franco is behind bars for good or gets a needle in his arm."

Joanne sighed. She looked toward the interrogation room. "Not sure that's going to happen. Not sure there is much we can do about it either."

Legally, no there probably wasn't much they could do about it. Levon knew that. But he could pass on Franco's whereabouts to Mikey. It went against everything Levon believed in, but letting Franco walk was not an option.

Levon pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. A week ago if anyone had told him he'd be considering leaking details about an informant to a mob boss he'd have laughed in their face. But a week ago, Joe would have been there to point out how wrong it was. Joe would have been there to help him find another way, to help him deal with it.

"Go home, Levon." Joanne lightly rubbed his arm. "I might not be able to keep Franco, but I can make their leaving as long and as tedious as possible."

Levon stared at her. She smiled wolfishly. "Hughes' body might not be enough to get them to pony up, but a live witness will definitely get them to play ball. Joe will come home. I promise you that." She nodded toward the door. "Go on. I have some calls to make."

Levon sighed. He wasn't going to win this argument. The only option left was to give in with as much grace as he could muster. He gave her a short nod. Golden brown eyes sought hers. "Call me when you've got Joe's…" he hesitated, unable to say 'body'.

"I will." Joanne gave him a sympathetic smile.

Levon walked away, heading for the garage, before she could suggest he let someone drive him home. He didn't want company. His mantra repeating in his head over and over, 'just have to see it through and then I can end it'.

He'd been saying it, using it as a talisman to keep his focus, to keep the pain at bay. Being this close was both relief and agony. Levon unconsciously fingered Joe's pendant. The little bit of metal steadied him.

Levon took the stairs slowly. He felt weighted down, muscles stiff and sore. And not for the first time was he glad so few people bothered with the stairs. At least no one was around to see him moving like he was ancient.

He navigated the parking garage, one hand trailing along the wall. Levon leaned against the Cobra for several moments, marshalling the energy to open the door. He settled into the seat with a sigh, refusing to close his eyes. He wasn't really worried that he'd fall asleep, it was more what images might appear that kept him from relaxing.

Levon drove with more care than he usually showed. While he no longer cared much what happened to himself, he didn't want to cause an accident that might result in injury for someone else. He wasn't that far gone.

Levon blinked in the bright sun, surprised to find so little traffic. He glanced at his watch. It was only mid-afternoon. He couldn't quite stifle the sudden flash of pain when he remembered the last time he'd grabbed a little 'afternoon delight' with Joe. He swallowed hard thinking about how he'd planned to spend the afternoon Joe had died. He rubbed his chest, trying to ease the dull pain that seemed to have settled permanently there.

The drive to the ranch seemed longer than he remembered. Levon smiled grimly. Given what he was considering doing when he got there, it was hardly surprising. He wasn't sure if he was eager to get it over with or dreading the final act. He was just so damn tired.

Levon pulled into the drive and parked the car. He opened the door and levered himself out of the bucket seat. He patted the hood of the car. It was a good machine. Hopefully it would ultimately end up with someone who'd appreciate it as much as Joe had.

Levon sighed softly, welcoming the cool confines of the house. He leaned against the door for a moment before pushing off and heading for the living room. He consciously avoided the couch, aiming for the recliner instead. He regretted getting rid of all the alcohol in the house, wishing he could get a stiff drink now.

He pulled out one of Joe's guns. The weight of it felt strange yet familiar. He'd been carrying it long enough to have grown used to it, but it wasn't his colt. Levon ejected the clip, studying the hollow point rounds he'd loaded earlier. They would do the job. It would be messy but it wasn't like he'd ever wanted an open casket.

He sighed softly, ejecting the round in the chamber. He studied it. By itself it looked harmless. "Hell the slug that killed Joe probably looked harmless too," he whispered to himself. Something capable of doing so much damage should look lethal.

Levon looked at the gun. He'd always distrusted automatics, preferring his old fashioned revolver. Their choice in weapons was just one more difference between him and Joe. A small, inconsequential thing that meant nothing. It just was, the same way the sky was blue. One more thing that wasn't any more.

He couldn't use Joe's guns for this. He thought he could. It seemed poetic when he'd originally come to this decision. Now, Levon wasn't so sure. He didn't want the gun to jam or malfunction.

Joe's guns were pristine, and had never misfired, but he couldn't take that chance. Levon shook his head. No, it was best to use his own gun.

Levon laid Joe's gun on the end table along with the clip. He shrugged out of the shoulder harness, laying it next to the gun. He fingered the straps he'd adjusted, lightly caressing the small indentations and wear marks left from years of use. The harness, worn daily, had been as much a part of Joe as his pendant had been.

Levon braced his hands on the arm rests and pushed himself out of the chair. He swayed, but recovered his balance after a moment. He really, really just wanted to lay down for awhile and forget the last few days. Wouldn't take much to lay down forever. Not much at all really.

Levon made his way down the hall to the bedroom. He had been in the room just once since Joanne had brought him home. He left his colt in its usual place then, the nightstand, and hadn't been back since. He tried sleeping in the guest room. He'd even tried the couch. But he'd given it up as a lost cause after the first night.

Levon frowned when he saw the bedroom door was open. He could have sworn he'd closed it. He shrugged. At this point he couldn't be sure of anything.

Levon stepped inside the room, unconsciously preparing himself for the assault of memories. It wasn't that long ago they'd redone the room, remaking it to fit them both. His eyes were drawn to the intricate carving he'd added to the headboard of Joe's old bed. It had taken him a week to figure out how to do it and another week of practice on scrap lumber before he risked carving on the headboard itself.

Levon stared at the bed. He blinked, slowly processing what he was seeing, instinctively reaching to brace himself against the wall. It couldn't be. Some exhaustion induced hallucination. It had to be.

He swallowed hard and ran a shaking hand through his hair. Levon found himself instinctively moving closer, wariness at war with the need to touch and confirm. He closed his eyes, and counted slowly to ten. Joe was still there, lying on the bed, when he opened his eyes.

Levon found himself on his knees next to the bed. He bit his lip, nearly afraid to touch and find Joe just a product of his imagination. His hand trembled as he very carefully moved to lightly caress Joe's cheekbone with his fingertips.

He gasped, startled by the warm, smooth skin he encountered. Levon shook his head. That couldn't be. It couldn't be. He'd seen Joe on the operating table. The heart monitor was blank, his body cooling, his skin pale and almost waxy.

"Please," Levon whispered, not even sure what he was asking for.

He laid a hand on Joe's chest. The rise and fall was so shallow as to be almost invisible but he could feel it easily. The slow and steady breaths were achingly familiar.

Levon bowed his head, choking back a sob. He rubbed a fist against his forehead, eyes tightly closed. It was a miracle. But he didn't believe in miracles. Never had. Never thought his life warranted divine intervention, or that he deserved it.

Levon nearly stumbled back in shock when he felt the sure touch of well-known fingers sliding through his hair. He raised his head, brown eyes meeting sleepy blue. Joe smiled.

"Hey."

Levon stared. Hallucinations didn't talk. They weren't warm to the touch and didn't touch back. He blinked, still not entirely convinced.

"Missed you, Cowboy," Joe whispered. His voice had the same raspy, 'just woke up' quality Levon remembered.

Levon's hand shook as he moved to cup Joe's face. "This is real, right?"

Joe caught his hand and placed a quick kiss in his palm before moving it deliberately to the pulse point in his neck. "I am real. I. Am. Alive." Joe gave the final statement firm insistence. "I know they told you different, but they lied, Cowboy. They. Lied."

Levon took a shuddering breath, "Sweet Jesus." It was more of a prayer than a curse.

"You okay?" Joe's grip on his hand tightened, ground him. His gaze sharpened as he stared at Levon. "Damn, Levon, have you slept or eaten anything at all since-"

Levon shook his head. "Couldn't."

"God damn FBI," Joe hissed out. He moved to sit up, groaning, his left hand rising to his right shoulder.

Levon sat back on his heels, unsure if he should help or hinder his lover. Another gasp of pain made the decision for him. He couldn't let Joe struggle or hurt himself, so he gently moved to push him back on the bed.

"Easy," Levon soothed. "Easy, now." His hands moved of their own volition, adding their own reassurances while confirming Joe was really in their bed, really alive.

Joe reached out and pulled him closer, one hand buried in the curls at the base of Levon's neck and forcing him down. Their mouths met in a kiss that was hungry and strong, familiar and welcoming. Levon moaned into Joe's mouth, content to let his lover take control, until the need for air forced him to pull back.

"Missed you, Cowboy," Joe whispered again, blue eyes awash with so many emotions Levon couldn't begin to identify them all. He blinked, raising a hand to rub at his face surprised to find his cheeks wet.

The muscles along Joe's jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. "Fucking FBI. I'm going to kill them."

"Think yer gonna have to get in line." Levon laughed weakly. The sound was tinged with a bit of hysteria as Levon dropped his head to Joe's chest, laughter giving way to sobs.

He could feel Joe's fingers moving through his hair. His lover was whispering something; the words lost but the meaning and intent clear, adding support and comfort as the anguish and loss of the last few days finally found release. Levon's sobs gradually tapered off, leaving him feeling drained, gasping for breath and feeling just a bit embarrassed. He hadn't cried in years.

"S-s-sorry, Joe." Levon hiccupped as he raised his head to look at Joe.

"Nothing to be sorry for." Joe smiled, fingers brushing the remaining droplets from Levon's cheeks. His own eyes were overly bright with unshed tears.

Levon sighed. He patted Joe's chest, further embarrassed by the wetness he found. He'd nearly soaked Joe's shirt.

He gave his lover a rueful look. "Damn. Think I needed that."

Joe snickered, eyes warming to teal, bright with amusement. "Ya think?"

Levon chuckled weakly. He shook his head. He had so many questions, but he had no idea where the hell to start. And at this point he wasn't sure any of that mattered. He leaned in and kissed Joe. The kiss was the complete opposite of the desperate, reaffirming one they'd shared earlier. This one was sweet and gentle, like the last one Levon had bestowed the morning Joe had been shot.

Levon pulled back slowly when Joe moaned softly. The blond cursed silently, suddenly remembering his lover's earlier painful attempt to sit up. "You…you…were shot, right? That did happen?" He was questioning his own recollection of everything that had occurred.

"Yeah." Joe grimaced, his left hand moving to rub his shoulder.

He belatedly noticed Joe was wearing what looked like a hospital scrub top and sweatpants that were a size too big. He frowned. "Where the hell have you been, boy?"

"FBI showed up just after I was taken in for surgery." Joe sighed. "I don't really remember a whole lot of that...just someone talking to the doctor telling him to say I died." He swallowed hard, eyes closing. "Scared the shit out of me thinking he was right."

"Bastards."

"Oh yeah, and then some." Joe opened his eyes, expression grim. "They kept me sedated until yesterday." He gave Levon an apologetic look. "I'd have been here sooner if-"

"I know." Levon had no doubts that staying away for so long was not Joe's idea.

"Woke up and knew something was wrong." Joe shuddered. "Had to be really wrong, because you weren't there."

Levon winced, knowing how disconcerting that had to have been. Joe hated hospitals. Levon never left him alone in one, ever. "Sorry."

"Not your fault."

Levon made a promise to himself that those responsible would pay for it. He didn't know how yet, but he'd figure it out. Balancing the scale would definitely take some time to do it right.

"I asked the nurse and the doctor what the hell was going on." Joe sighed softly. "Kept asking until one of them finally told me that I didn't need to worry about anything."

Joe snorted and rolled his eyes. "FBI did a good job convincing them that it was in my best interest if everyone thought I was dead." Joe's eyes darkened in anger. "How the hell they figured that I have yet to understand."

Levon told Joe about Franco, and his need to provide proof that the hit had been successful. Seeing Joe frown in confusion, Levon realized his partner probably didn't know how it was he'd come to be shot in the first place. The blond bit his lip wondering if he should go into all of that now.

"Tell me," Joe ordered quietly.

Levon gave a quick recitation of the investigation, deliberately avoiding talking about how he'd taken the news of Joe's 'death'. He confessed to talking to Mikey, revealing what Joe's uncle had told him about the situation in Chicago and the reason for the hit. He also told him what he'd learned about the FBI's involvement and the agent who'd died on the courthouse steps.

"When the fuck will the past stay buried?" Joe growled, sounding more frustrated than angry.

Levon hoped the question was rhetorical because he had no idea how to answer it. He kissed Joe again, suddenly overwhelmingly grateful for having the chance to love and be loved by him. He was glad Mikey had made whatever deal he'd made that had gotten Joe to Houston in the first place.

"Don't care if the past comes up every damn day," Levon whispered against his lover's lips. "Can handle it, just as long as you don't ever leave me like that again."

"Will do my best, Levon." Joe smiled. "Promise."

"Good." Levon studied Joe's face, memorize the beloved features. His lover looked decidedly pale. "Should you even be out of the hospital?"

Joe grinned. "I made it here."

"How did you get here?" Levon frowned hoping like hell his lover hadn't hurt himself in the process.

"Doctor wanted me to take a little walk. They always want you up and moving around."

Levon nodded his understanding. He wasn't sure exactly why that was, but it was the only thing about being in the hospital he agreed with. The chance to move always helped him.

"I got a lucky break when there was a code blue down the hall about the same time." Joe grinned. "FBI agent who was supposed to be watching me and my room had taken a potty break then too."

Levon snickered. "You catch his name?"

"Simmons."

"I've met him." Levon waved a hand for Joe to continue his story. He'd fill Joe in on that encounter later.

"Was a simple matter of getting to the elevator." Joe shifted on the bed, seeking a more comfortable position. "Fortunately we were already at that end of the hall when the code sounded. Just had to find something to wear, a phone and call a cab. Had it meet me at the side entrance."

Levon knew the side entrance was not nearly as busy as the front. It was typically used by hospital staff and the doors opened not far from the elevator making getting in an out a quick and easy process.

"Thought of going to the office, but I didn't know how diligent the FBI was going to be in trying to track me down. Figured that the office would be the first place they'd look." Joe's eyes narrowed. Levon recognized the determined expression. "Wasn't going to make it easy for them."

His expression turned a little sheepish. "Raided your emergency stash when I got here to pay for the cab."

"Like I give a shit about that." Levon made a 'pfft' noise. The emergency stash was a hundred dollars in fives and tens he kept in a small marble box in the living room near the phone. "Just glad it was there for you to use."

Levon levered himself up off the floor. His knees protested, letting him know they hadn't appreciated the being in that position for so long. He wanted to just crawl into bed with Joe. It felt like it had been ages since he'd laid down.

Joe caught his hand and tugged lightly. "C'mon, Cowboy. Lay down with me. I know you're tired."

Levon reluctantly shook his head. "Don't want to hurt you."

Joe tugged again. "You won't."

"I should call-"

"It's already been several days," Joe pointed out with amazing aplomb. "A few more hours won't hurt a thing."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure." Joe patted the bed.

Levon moved to the other side, not wanting to crawl over Joe. Under other circumstances he wouldn't have hesitated, but at this point he wasn't sure either of them were ready for more. He was wrung out from this recent emotional rollercoaster and Joe was still recovering from a bullet wound.

"You got meds or anything?" Levon asked, hesitating again.

"I got everything I need right here."

Levon could feel his face warming. He nodded. "Yeah, me too."

He lay down, curling into Joe, resting his head on his lover's left shoulder. He relaxed with a soft sigh, feeling something inside finally release and let go. Joe's heartbeat was steady and strong, pounding out a solid, comforting rhythm.

"This okay?"

Joe tipped his head, placing a kiss in Levon's hair. "Perfect."

Joe woke slowly. He frowned, instinctively categorizing as much of his environment that he could without opening his eyes. The bed was comfortable, familiar. So was the scent of the room. The warmth and soft of sound of breathing next to him was familiar and not.

Joe opened his eyes, turning his head. He smiled, recognizing Levon. The smile faded when he realized the reason Levon's breathing had sounded unfamiliar. His lover was clearly not resting as peacefully as he had been when they'd fallen asleep.

Levon made a soft sound of distress, eyes moving rapidly under closed lids. He jerked, pulling away from Joe, one hand reaching out for something. Levon mumbled something indistinct, his breath coming in soft pants.

Joe wasn't sure if he should wake him or not. He didn't really want to see Levon trapped in a nightmare, but approaching him when he was like this had to be done carefully. Levon had pulled away violently enough in the past to fall out of bed once or twice. And Joe was in no shape to handle it if Levon lashed out at him, fighting off a phantom.

Another whimper made up Joe's mind about waking Levon. He couldn't leave his lover trapped in anything that made him sound like that. But before Joe could figure out how to approach him, Levon sat up with a gasp and shouted a warning. Levon glanced around in a panic before it registered where he was.

Joe waited for his lover to take a shaky breath, and regain some control before daring to touch him. He laid his hand on Levon's shoulder. "You okay, Cowboy?"

Levon scrubbed his face with both hands. When he looked at Joe his eyes were bright with unshed tears. He gave Joe a weak attempt at a smile. "Getting there."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No." Levon shook his head firmly.

Joe opted not to push. He had a good idea what it was probably about anyway. He moved his hand to the back of Levon's neck, fingers working in small circles. Joe winced at the tension he felt beneath his fingertips.

Levon sighed, his head tipping forward. "God I missed that."

"Just this?" Joe chuckled.

Levon flashed him a sly grin, looking coyly from under his lashes. "Not just this."

Joe pulled him in for a quick kiss. He started to roll over, intent on pinning Levon beneath him and ravishing the man. A flare of pain from his shoulder reminded him he wasn't up for that yet.

"Damn."

"Easy, Joe," Levon cautioned, cupping Joe's face. Golden brown eyes searched dark blue. "We got time for that, right? Don't got to be today."

"Want it." Joe growled, disappointed with himself. "Want you."

"Want you too," Levon whispered, his forehead touching Joe's. "Thought I'd never get the chance to do this again. God it was-"

Joe silenced him with a kiss; neither of them needed to dwell on FBI's lies right now. He pulled Levon's breath in, before returning it back to him. He smiled. "We just have to take it slow, Cowboy."

"Ya mean, you lay there and let me do all the work?" Levon grinned at him, eyes eager and hungry, shadows and nightmares temporarily banished.

"We've done it before." Joe laughed softly.

"Yeah, we have." Levon's cheeks warmed with color. He lightly patted Joe's chest. "You know the drill, big boy." The husky quality of Levon's voice made Joe shiver.

Joe bunched the pillow behind him, laying back down. He smiled at Levon and made a 'come here' motion with one finger. Levon waggled his eyebrows and shook his head.

He looked at Joe from under his lashes, hands moving to very slowly undo the buttons of his shirt. Joe bit his lip, struggling to contain a moan when Levon's long fingers lightly caressed the skin he'd revealed one inch at a time. Joe's hands itched with the need to touch; he fisted the comforter, forcing himself to stay still.

The glint of silver against Levon's skin made Joe blink. He smiled when he realized what it was: his pendant. Joe was confident his lover had been wearing it since the day he'd been shot. The rush of love and affection Joe felt rivaled the building lust…at least until Levon shrugged out of his shirt, tossing it off the bed.

Levon licked his lips, giving Joe a heated glance before his eyes closed. His fingers caressed his nipples, head tipping back as he moaned softly. Creamy skin took on a darker color, skin flushing in response to self-induced pleasure.

Joe swallowed hard. It had been awhile since Levon had done something like this, but he never got tired of it. Some day he was going to convince his lover to actually masturbate for him.

Levon lightly trailed one hand down his chest, following the center line of his trim torso to come to rest on his belt buckle. He deftly undid the silver buckle. Joe had a new appreciation button fly jeans, especially the slightly faded, tight fitting variety Levon favored.

He groaned when Levon took his time undoing each button. All it took was a little flick of his thumb to make the denim give way. Joe bit his lip, fighting himself not to tell Levon to hurry the hell up. He was enjoying this too much to rush the show.

Levon managed a neat little shimmy, wiggling out of his jeans and boxers in an erotic move that would have done a striper proud. Not for the first time did Joe wonder if his lover didn't have some tantalizing naughty past he'd never mentioned. He stifled the nearly instinctive jealousy; no one else should ever have the chance to see what Joe had come to think of as being reserved for him alone.

"Think yer a little overdressed." Levon smiled sweetly at him. His innocent expression was totally at odds with the open hunger and intent in his eyes.

"You going to do something about that?" Joe held himself firmly in check, unmoving. "I'm just supposed to lay back and let you do all the work, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." Levon's smile widened. The blond leaned forward, hands moving to frame Joe's torso, easily supporting Levon's weight as he hovered over Joe. He dipped his head and kissed him, the level of tenderness Joe hadn't realized his lover was capable of stunned him as their lips met.

Levon pulled back. He placed a kiss on one cheek and then the other, before very gently kissing Joe's eyelids. He waited until Joe opened his eyes before lightly nipping the tip of his nose, a bright and teasing grin appearing.

Joe reached for him, intent on pulling him closer, eager to feel the weight of Levon's lean form against his own. Levon shook his head, making a small tsking noise. He pulled up the scrub top, exposing Joe's chest. He lowered his head. Lips, teeth and tongue mapped a familiar path, one designed to drive Joe nuts.

Levon moved with infinite care to place a kiss on the bandaged shoulder. The tight spiral of rising passion broke for a moment as concerned brown eyes met blue.

"It's fine." Joe raised a hand to cup Levon's face, thumb caressing smooth skin. "I'm fine."

Levon took a deep breath, nodding once. He nibbled gently on Joe's bottom lip, asking permission. Joe gave it easily, opening his mouth, their tongues greeting each other.

Joe had forgotten just how addicting the flavor of Levon's mouth could be. God, but he always tastes good, Joe thought, desperate for more. He caressed the roof of Levon's mouth with his tongue, swallowing his lover's moan.

He was dizzy and breathless when Levon pulled back. Levon tuned his head to nuzzle Joe's neck, nipping him lightly before kissing away that brief flash of pain. His hands were busy caressing every bit of exposed skin.

Joe arched upward, trying to encourage more contact. He tried to pull Levon to him, to feel his weight, but the blond resisted. He growled in frustration.

Levon laughed, the warm air raising goose bumps where it touched Joe's skin. "Easy, big boy."

"Hate easy," Joe panted.

"No you don't." Levon smirked, one hand moving to cup Joe's erection through the sweatpants he was wearing. The little squeeze made him roll his hips upward, mutely asking for more.

"Please." Joe bit his lower lip, trying to stifle the little whimper nearly broke free when Levon rubbed him again.

"Shh…I gotcha." Levon worked his hand under the sweats. Joe lifted his hips, making it easier for his lover to push the fabric out of the way, down past his hips and thighs. He wiggled the rest of the free, unconsciously enjoying the feel of the soft blanket beneath his now bare skin.

He groaned when Levon ran his fingers lightly up and down his hard shaft. Joe instinctively thrust upward, biting his lip to stifle his disappointment when Levon moved his hand away. A small hiss escaped when Levon's light touch moved to gently massage Joe's balls.

"Jesus." He gasped, spreading his legs wider to give Levon greater access.

Levon braced more of his weight against Joe's hips, holding him down as he lowered his head to run the broad pad of his tongue over the tip of Joe's cock. Joe shuddered, hands fisting the comforter. He whimpered as Levon sucked more into his mouth, tongue curling around in a soft, wet embrace.

He forced himself to unclench his fists. Joe ran his fingers through Levon's hair, petting his lover, encouraging him to go deeper, to move faster. He was careful not force Levon, not wanting him to choke or gag.

Joe wasn't quite sure how Levon worked a hand under him. All he knew was that one of those talented digits was stroking his entrance, tracing the rim with a tantalizingly light touch. He rocked his hips, silently asking for more.

Joe moaned softly, panting as Levon breached his entrance. He was torn between thrusting into the moist, welcoming heat of his lover's mouth and fucking himself on Levon's finger. Levon's weight on his hips kept him from doing much of either. It surprised him to find the restraint increasing his arousal.

"God…Levon….So good." Joe shuddered when Levon deep throated him.

Levon's throat worked, squeezing and flexing around Joe's cock as he bobbed his head. It was a skill Joe had never mastered, but definitely appreciated. He struggled to hold back for just a little longer, clinging to the edge for as long as possible.

Joe knew he was saying something, but he had no idea exactly what. In his head, he was begging for more, for Levon not to stop, for this moment not to end. He quivered, muscles flexing, tightening as every touch and sound pushed further along the rising tide of passion.

He tipped his head back, mouth open, breath catching as Levon hummed. The vibrations seemed to travel through Joe, his whole body echoing back in response. Joe instinctively tightened his hold, fingers burying into Levon's curls.

He arched his back, trying not to push against Levon's weight and failing. Joe shuddered as Levon hummed again. Levon's finger found his prostate and stroked it once, and then again. Joe came with a hoarse shout of his lover's name.

He struggled to get his breathing back to normal. He released his tight hold of Levon's hair, petting him, trying to soothe any hurt he might unintentionally have caused. He usually had better control than that.

Levon grinned up at him. He licked his lips, raising one hand to lightly wipe at his chin. Joe smiled.

"C'mere."

Levon rose up and kissed Joe sweetly. Joe sighed. He hadn't been this relaxed since waking up in the hospital and finding Levon wasn't there.

He cupped Levon's face when the other man broke the kiss. "Your turn, Cowboy."

"Don't really need to." Levon blushed and looked away. "Kinda…well, was enough just hearing you, touching you…I-"

Joe grinned, and kissed the tip of Levon's nose. That had happened before, to both of them. Getting off so easily was one of those things that never failed to amaze Joe. It was a nice ego stroke every time he realized he could have that effect.

He nuzzled Levon's throat. "You up for a shower?"

Levon chuckled. "Thinkin' that should be my question." Serious brown eyes flickered to Joe's injured shoulder. "Bandage should stay dry."

"We got stuff to cover it." Their medicine chest was better equipped than most. Joe sometimes wondered if that shouldn't have clued him in a lot sooner about just how damn dangerous the job could be.

Levon nodded. He offered Joe a hand after he rose easily to his feet. Ordinarily, the gesture was more out of courtesy than need, but today, Joe needed the help to get up. He still felt a little shaky, less than his best. And the mind blowing orgasm he'd experienced just a few moments ago hadn't made him any more steady.

He made sure not to pull too hard, or need too much support. He didn't want Levon to worry. If his lover worried too much, Joe was sure he'd be on his way back to the hospital. Having just escaped, the last thing he wanted was to go back.

Joe really wanted to wash off the foreign, antiseptic and stale scent from the hospital. And showering with Levon was as much about reconnecting and reassurance as it was about getting clean. He liked having free rein to touch, and definitely enjoyed being touched in return.

Joe watched Levon remove his pendant, hanging it in its usual place on the hook near the vanity. He reached out to caress the still warm metal.

"Took good care of it," Levon looked away, his expression revealing a blend of pain and relief.

"Never had a doubt about that." Joe was quick to assure him.

When he'd woken in the hospital, after looking for his partner, reaching for his pendant had been his next move knowing Levon would have returned it to him as soon as possible. Not finding the pendant or his partner convinced him something was really wrong. His determination to find out what and to fix it had him trying to get out of bed. The drugs still in his system then had made it nearly impossible to move. He'd pushed the call button in a near panic, desperate for answers. He had wanted to smack the doctor when the man tried to assure him that he had nothing to worry about because everyone thought he was dead. Joe snorted at the memory. How the hell anyone could ever think being considered dead was comforting was something Joe couldn't fathom.

Levon looked at him, eyebrow raised. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Joe rolled his eyes. "Just thinking."

"Don't hurt yerself." Levon chuckled.

"Shaddup." Joe fought down a smile. He'd missed this easy rapport. To him it hadn't been all that long; he couldn't imagine how hard it had been for Levon who'd been without this for days, convinced he'd never have it again.

He watched Levon closely as his lover turned away still laughing as he turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. Levon had admitted to not eating or sleeping, and it showed. Joe could tell he'd lost weight, not much but enough for him to notice. Once they got cleaned up he'd make sure Levon ate something. And he'd make damn sure the FBI paid for putting Levon through the agony of thinking he was dead.

Joe plucked at the scrub top he was still wearing. Getting into it hurt like hell. Getting out of it was likely to hurt just as bad.

"I got that." Levon held up a pair of scissors. Joe grinned. It wasn't like he intended to ever wear the damn thing again, so cutting it off was fine with him.

Levon tossed the shredded garment in the trash. Good riddance as far as Joe was concerned. He much preferred his own, far more stylish wardrobe to borrowed clothing. It had done in a pinch, but he wasn't sorry to see it go.

He stood patiently, letting Levon cover the bandage on this shoulder with a bit of plastic and some tape. The normal aspect of the action seemed to help convince the blond that Joe really was okay. They'd done this before for each other.

The hot water felt wonderful when he stepped into the shower. Levon's hands felt even better. Joe sighed, relaxing under that confident, beloved touch. Kinks and stiffness of lying in a drug induced slumber for several days were beginning to fade.

He returned the favor, mindful of the limited range of motion of his right arm and shoulder. With time and therapy it would get better. He was sure of that.

Joe wouldn't have objected to more time in the shower, but the water was starting to cool. He grimaced, giving the shower head a dirty look. Levon's chuckle brought his gaze back to his lover.

"Don't matter how big a water heater we get, boy, it ain't ever going to have enough hot water."

"That's why I still think a hot tub would be a good idea."

Levon's expression turned contemplative and then mischievous. "You think we could get the FBI to pay for it?" He arched an eyebrow, eyes lighting up. "I mean, they owe us some sort of restitution for the last few days. Not to mention the bullshit that we'll have to straighten out with getting you declared alive again."

Joe grinned wolfishly at the thought demanding payment from the FBI. "Could maybe get more than just a hot tub out of it."

Levon handed Joe a towel before grabbing one for himself. "I'll make a list while you start making calls."

Joe nodded. He needed to call Uncle Mikey first. And he was sure that would be a long call because he'd no doubt end up talking to every member of the family before he was done. He was betting that just talking wouldn't be enough to satisfy all of them. He was pretty sure Rosa wouldn't be the only one making plans to be on the next flight down. Once he knew for sure who and how many, he'd tell Levon to brace for impact.

And then they'd have to go to the station. See everyone in person. He was almost looking forward to their surprised faces…until he considered how reports of his death might have impacted them. Hopefully they weren't hit as hard as Levon had obviously been, but Joe was willing to bet there would be a lot of tears just the same.

He hissed when he reached for his pendant, forgetting his arm wasn't ready for a full extension. Levon's eyes narrowed but he didn't comment. He just took the necklace and placed it around Joe's neck. Their eyes met in the mirror.

"Thanks, Cowboy."

"Any time." Levon kissed the back of Joe's neck.

Levon's stomach rumbled loudly, reminding Joe his lover needed to eat. "How about we get something to eat before we doing anything else?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Joe stifled a grimace as he thought about the status of the fridge. He had planned to restock the larder the day he'd been shot, but that clearly didn't happen. Joe doubted Levon had done any shopping recently.

He mentally shrugged. There would be something, there always was. It didn't matter what he got Levon to eat, just as long as his lover ate something. He needed Levon healthy and whole. Needed to be healthy and whole for him.

Levon helped him slip into his flannel robe. Joe loved the soft, worn fabric. He was damn glad his lover gave it up without a fight, letting him claim it as his own. The yellow silk Joe had gotten Levon suited him much better in Joe's opinion.

He followed Levon out to the kitchen, smiling at how familiar and comfortable it was to do so. Joe's shoulder ached dully, but he still felt good. Being home, with Levon, was definitely the best medicine.

He pointed to the cupboard. "We got soup?"

"We always got soup." Levon tossed a quick grin over his shoulder. "Ain't you glad I keep a can or two 'round for emergencies?"

Joe rolled his eyes. "It's got too much salt."

"It's ready to eat in two minutes," Levon pointed out reasonably. It was the same argument he made every time Joe protested having it in the house.

Levon waved a hand at him. "Sit down. I got this."

Ordinarily the kitchen was his domain, but Joe sat as instructed. Letting Levon take care of him wasn't all bad. And he didn't feel up to arguing about it. Besides, he had a feeling Levon needed to this.

Levon handed him a bottle of water from the fridge. Joe took a long drink, surprised at how thirsty he was. He knew he shouldn't be. Blood loss and three days unconscious were bound to leave him feeling a bit dehydrated. He smiled, glad his lover had more sense than he did.

Levon nodded. He put a small plate with cheese and crackers on the table before retrieving two bowls of steaming soup from the microwave. It smelled good, making Joe's mouth water in spite of his disdain for canned products.

He ate slowly, carefully testing out his stomach's willingness to cooperate. Not having any solid food for a few days always made eating a bit iffy. He nodded to himself when everything settled easily.

Joe watched Levon eat with neat efficiency. The faster than usual pace and lack of any savoring of his food were blatant clues as to how little the blond had likely eaten in the last few days. Joe made a note to find out from their friends at the office if they'd seen him consume anything but coffee.

Brown eyes met blue. Levon looked away, a sheepish expression on his face. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"Didn't mean ta just inhale my food."

"Don't worry about it." Joe smiled, reaching across the table to squeeze Levon's hand. "You were hungry."

"Yeah." Levon sounded almost surprised by the admission. "Probably a good thing we didn't have anything heavier."

Joe nodded. He fought off a yawn, still feeling the effects of the past few days. A few hours of sleep, mind blowing sex and one meal wouldn't fix all that. But they'd just gotten up so Joe wasn't ready to lie down again. Not just yet. He wanted to call home before he crashed.

"Go call your family." Levon waved a hand toward the living room. "I'll clean this up."

Joe smiled, patting Levon's shoulder as he wandered into the other room. He sat on the couch, settling in. He reached for the phone, but waited to dial until Levon joined him. Given how emotional this was likely to be, Joe wanted his lover near him.

Joe took a deep breath and dialed the number from memory. Levon shifted, laying his head in Joe's lap, much the way he did every Sunday when Joe called home. Joe found himself playing with Levon's curls as he habitually did, the silken strands sliding through his fingers, soothing both of them.

Joe bit his lip, waiting out the first ring. He really wasn't worried, more like anxious. And he really hoped it was Uncle Mikey who answered. He could rely on the older man to not get overly emotional, at least not right away.

After two rings, the phone was answered. Joe smiled. "Hello, Uncle Mikey. It's Joe."

The call to his family went on longer than Joe had anticipated. Nearly everyone wanted to talk to him, assure themselves of his status as one of the living. It was both reassuring and distressing to realize how much the rumor of his death had affected his family. He knew he'd be getting more calls and probably several visits before it was all said and done.

During the course of that extended conversation, Levon had dozed off. His lover looked so peaceful Joe was reluctant to wake him. It was better to just let him sleep. Feeling fatigued himself, Joe slouched further down, tipping his head back to rest against the couch and nodded off.

Levon didn't wake with a nightmare, but nearly fell off the couch an hour later when he shifted, trying to get more comfortable. His move to catch himself woke Joe with a start, something his injured shoulder did not appreciate. Joe regretted not stealing some painkillers before he left the hospital. He wasn't sure if it was good sense or not, but using some that Levon had left over from earlier visits to the hospital certainly helped.

Although the dull throb persisted, the pain meds made it easier to get dressed and handle the ride to the office. It was a weird to not have his guns on, but he really didn't think his shoulder would handle the holster rig. He took Levon up on his offer to use his back up piece in an ankle holster. It was preferable to feeling vulnerable.

He was odd be in the passenger seat of his own car. Normally, he was the only one who drove it. Joe bit his lip to keep from commenting on Levon's driving.

"Where's the Jimmy?" Joe asked, curious as to why he hadn't seen it sitting out front of the house.

"Had it towed to the garage."

Joe blinked. "It needed more than a tune up?"

"Nope." Levon looked sheepish. "Going ta get it just wasn't a real big priority."

Joe nodded. He knew first hand just how focused Levon could get when working on a case. Working to find who he thought had killed Joe would have ratcheted that intensity and exclusive fixation up a few notches.

Joe sighed, wincing as he settled into the seat. He ignored the concerned glance Levon sent is way. He wasn't an invalid.

"This could wait," Levon offered.

"It could, but is shouldn't." Joe turned his head to look at him. He grimaced recalling his conversation with Mikey. "Uncle Mikey's already got a hit out on Alex Marconi. Feds should know that Franco won't be of much use to them."

Levon frowned. "He can't call it off?"

"Won't call it off." Joe shook his head. "My being alive doesn't change the fact that Marconi violated the agreement and challenged Uncle Mikey. He's going to pay for that."

"Should be sorry." The muscle along Levon's jaw flexed. "But I'm not."

Seeing how affected his lover had been by the news of his demise, Joe was inclined to agree. He hadn't said anything about the hollow point bullets he'd found, but he had a pretty good idea what Levon had been planning to do with them. He'd wait to confront the blond about his suspicions when things were more normal again.

"If they can't bring down Marconi with Franco, we can still charge him with attempted murder," Joe pointed out yet another reason their trip to the office shouldn't wait.

"Oh, we can nail his ass on murder too." Levon's tone was laced with grim satisfaction.

"Come again?"

"You remember there being a guy on the steps with you?"

Joe shook his head slowly. He remembered leaving the courthouse, thinking about meeting Levon and seeing if they could take the afternoon off. But events right before he'd gotten shot were a complete blank.

"He was the federal agent I mentioned getting killed."

Joe pursed his lips, eyes narrowed as he thought back to what Levon had told him of the investigation. He nodded slowly. "Forgot that."

"S'okay." Levon waved a hand. "Was kind of a lot to take in there."

It was an excuse, not a reason, Joe told himself. He hadn't wanted to dwell on his own brush with death, electing to focus more on the reason for the hit and the details of Levon's investigation.

"You did everything by the book, right?"

Levon gave him a dirty look. "Yes."

Joe held up his hand, palms out. "Just asking."

"Sorry." Levon captured one of Joe's hands, bringing it to his lips to place a kiss on his knuckles. "Been asked that a lot lately."

Joe wasn't surprised. It would have been second nature among their coworkers to worry about Levon slipping. Although, they obviously weren't watching as closely as they should have or his lover wouldn't have had the hollow point shells Joe found.

He was glad that their positions hadn't been reversed. He doubted he'd have been so law abiding hunting down Franco if it had been Levon who'd been shot. Odds were good he'd have killed the miserable bastard himself. And Joe wasn't sure how he'd have handled dealing with the loss of his lover once he'd taken out the hit man, but he had a feeling the hollow point shells might have been part of it.

Levon maintained his hold on Joe's hand for the rest of the drive to the office. Joe didn't mind. He wanted that connection as much as Levon seemed to.

Pulling into the garage, Levon parked the Cobra in Joe's usual spot. He glanced over at Joe. Levon bit his lower lip. "Thinking this could be a little intense."

Joe sighed softly, shaking his head, lips curling into a small, wry smile. Intense was definitely an understatement. Joe expected meeting his workers would be every bit as emotional as his conversation with his family had been. Probably more so since this one was in person.

Levon squeezed his hand. "You ready?"

Joe nodded slowly. "Just stay close."

"Planned to." Levon leaned over and gave him a quick kiss.

They got into the elevator together. Joe had been tempted to suggest the stairs, knowing they'd run into fewer people that way, but he thought it better to conserve his strength. And he'd never really been a big fan of delaying the inevitable.

Joe stifled a grin when several uniforms did obvious double takes as he and Levon stepped off the elevator when the doors opened. He just nodded to them, keeping an even pace with his partner. As they headed for the bull pen, Joe deliberately ignored the stares and gaping mouths, the sudden silence followed by hushed whispers.

Their progress toward Joanne's office was halted when Esteban placed himself in front of Joe. The Hispanic cop reached out to hesitantly touch Joe. "Madre de Dios," he whispered, "you are alive." He grinned broadly before pulling Joe into a hug.

Joe tried not to let the pain that forceful embrace caused show. He returned the hug, slapping Esteban on the back. Esteban pulled back, he cupped Joe's face and placed a kiss on each cheek.

"Welcome back to the living, amigo."

After Esteban it was Legs. Her eyes were overly bright with unshed tears, and Joe really hoped she didn't start crying. He hated it when women cried. It always made him feel so helpless. At least with Levon, he'd known what to do.

She hugged him too. Joe was grateful she wasn't as strong as Esteban. He wasn't sure his shoulder could hold up repeatedly to that sort of assault.

After her it was a steady parade of friends and coworkers. Joe was glad Levon was never more than a step away, making sure the press of people didn't crowd him too much or get too enthusiastic in their greetings. He was grateful most of their coworkers were either too stunned or relieved to be loud and boisterous in their greetings. Most were happy to settle for a hand shake and a quick 'glad to have you back'.

He knew they'd eventually recover from the shock of seeing him and start asking for details and explanations. And they would definitely get louder when that happened. Joe shot Levon a look asking for his help to disentangle himself from the others. He thought Joanne should be the first to know the details about his 'death' and 'resurrection'. He was hoping he wouldn't have to tell the story more than once.

Levon closed the gap between them that the others had created, standing shoulder to shoulder with Joe. Joe tried not to looks as relieved as he felt to have his partner shielding at least one side. He was happy to see everyone, but all the attention was starting to overwhelm just a bit.

Joe was impressed that his partner could get everyone to be quiet by simply raising a hand and looking at them. Golden brown eyes seemed to light on everyone for a second, mutely making the request for time and space on Joe's behalf. He was sure he'd be amused later by how everyone backed up a step, looking sheepish, but at the moment he was simply thankful for the breathing room.

"Know yer all glad Joe's alive. And y'all got questions I'm sure," Levon said calmly. "We'll make sure everyone knows what happened. But we got to talk to Beaumont first."

The innate respect for Joanne and her position was apparent when several heads nodded. Esteban started shooing people away clearing a path for them to Joanne's office. It was probably only the closed door and drawn shades that kept her from being aware of the commotion going on in the bullpen.

Levon rapped his knuckles against the door before opening it and looking in without waiting for a response. "Joanne, you got a minute?"

"Damn it, Levon, didn't I tell you to go home?"

"Yep." Levon pushed the door all the way open. "But…ah, I got someone here you need to see."

"It had better be someone very import-" Joanne's mouth dropped when she spotted Joe standing just behind Levon's shoulder. "Joe…oh my god." She pushed Levon out of the doorway and moved to hesitantly touch Joe's arm. "You're-"

"Alive." Joe grinned. "Yeah, I know."

Joanne hugged him. "You're alive."

Joe was damn glad he'd braced himself for her hug. It felt nearly as forceful as the one he'd gotten from Esteban. Levon sent him an amused glance. Knowing is partner, he'd probably known just how strong their boss really was.

She pulled back suddenly, eyes narrowed in anger. "You had better have a damn good reason for putting us all through thinking you were dead."

"Wasn't my idea."

Both Joanne's eyebrows rose. She pointed toward her office, letting him move past her and inside. Levon followed him in.

"Get back to work people," Joanne ordered calmly. "When I know, you'll know."

Joe could hear people shuffling around and mumbling. He traded a grin with Levon. They wouldn't be doing much of anything but trying to look busy. He didn't blame them; he just hoped there wasn't anything really pressing.

Joe took the seat on the right. He'd come to think of it as his usual spot; it was the chair he usually took when called into the Lieutenant's office. Levon took the other seat, settling in with a soft sigh.

Joanne shut the door behind her. She planted herself in front of them, leaning one hip against her desk. She folded her arms across her chest. "Okay….talk to me."

Joe took a breath, trying to figure out where to start. Thinking the beginning was the best place, he opted to start from when he left the courthouse. Levon filled in the bits he'd missed while unconscious, giving him as well as Joanne a clearer picture of what had happened that morning.

Joanne held up a hand, stopping the flow of their retelling. She gave Joe a pointed look. "Should you even be out of the hospital?"

"I'm okay."

"You're sure?"

"I'll make sure he gets checked out again when we're done, Joanne," Levon stated softly.

Joe rolled his eyes but knew better than to argue. And he really wouldn't mind going back for a prescription of painkillers. He wanted something a little stronger than the leftovers Levon had at the house.

"Now that the two have you have worked out how to take care of me, can we continue?"

Joanne smirked. She waved a hand, offering him the floor. "By all means."

Levon took over the story, neatly leaving out the details of his conversation with Uncle Mikey. He made a reference to an informant but didn't get specific. They both understood it was not a good idea to mention the blond's conversation with Mikey.

Joanne shot a skeptical look at the unnamed informant but she didn't call either of them on it. Joe gave her a smile. It was always nice to know she understood necessity. And it wasn't like Levon had done anything wrong. He'd run the case by the numbers for Christ's sake, Joe thought, she should cut him some slack.

"So about the time you were tracking down Franco, the FBI is in the midst of trying to track down Joe?"

Levon nodded. He shrugged. "Figure Joe's little vanishing act distracted them a mite. That and they didn't know who the hell the sniper was to look for him in the first place." He grimaced. "Although why they didn't know even that much is still a mystery to me."

Joe snorted. It wasn't a mystery to him. The FBI agents assigned to the case were idiots.

Joanne rubbed her forehead. "Okay….so Joe makes his way back to the ranch?"

"Yeah." Joe rubbed absently at his shoulder. Levon looked at him in concern, but Joe waved it off. He wanted to finish this.

Joanne picked up the thread of the story again. "And the FBI gives up looking for him when they find out we've got Marco. They show up here to stake their claim."

"Yep." Levon nodded. His eyes darkened with anger and disgust. "Nice to know the fuckers had their priorities in order."

Joanne scowled at his sarcasm but didn't call him on it. She grinned nastily. "We can certainly relay Joe's miraculous resurrection to them when we inform them of the error of their ways."

Levon smirked. "Can tell 'em Franco is worthless now too, 'cept for prosecution."

Joanne frowned. "Why?"

"You really think Michael LaFiamma is going to jus' let it go unchallenged that some upstart tried to kill a family member?" Levon gave her the same look he usually gave people who asked him what he considered stupid questions. "A family member whose safety here in Houston was supposed to be guaranteed by some nicely sworn mob oaths?"

Joanne's gaze narrowed. "You didn't tell him we have Franco in custody?"

"No." Levon glared at her, but Joe saw a momentary flash of guilt in his lover's expression.

Joe knew he hadn't done it. Levon wasn't lying, but that didn't mean he hadn't thought about divulging information. Honestly, in his position, Joe was pretty sure he'd have done more than thought about it. Hell, in his position, Joe thought, I would have killed Marco and claimed he resisted arrest so it would all be moot anyway.

"Franco isn't going to be Uncle Mikey's target," Joe interjected. "Franco is a little fish…and he failed. Mikey will go after his boss first."

Joanne glared at them. "Which makes Franco's testimony worthless if Alex Marconi is wearing concrete shoes."

"Yep."

She gave Levon a hard look. He didn't sound at all sorry about the turn of events. Joe couldn't see her actually making him feel bad about it either. But that didn't mean she wouldn't try.

"Regardless of how we feel about-"

"We don't have to do a goddamn thing," Levon almost snarled as he emphasized 'we', snapping it back at her with uncharacteristic viciousness. Golden brown eyes flashed as he glared at her. "The FBI can clean up their own mess. All we have to do is let them know they fucked up and just how badly. Chicago ain't in our jurisdiction and neither is the mob."

Joanne held up both hands, palms out in a gesture of surrender. Joe gave her points for immediately knowing a losing battle when she saw one. He'd tried to argue with Levon when he used that tone of voice and to date Joe had always lost. It didn't keep him from trying from time to time.

"Are the FBI agents still here?" Joe asked.

Joanne nodded once, lips twisting in a bitter smile. "They are upstairs with the Chief and the Commissioner. Right about now they are probably discussing how to discipline me for my audacity to interfere with a federal investigation and slow up the transfer of their prisoner."

Levon chuckled. "Thinkin' they're going to be singing a new tune once you call an' interrupt that little pow-wow."

"You think the secretary will put me through?" Joanne arched an eyebrow.

"Tell 'em you found Joe." Levon's smile was more a bearing of his teeth than an expression of humor. "And we want them to explain why they kidnapped a police officer. Might be good for them ta do it before we call their boss and file charges."

Joanne nodded. She picked up the phone and rang the Chief's office. Joe didn't think she'd have much trouble getting through, whether she commented on his presence or not. If she was the subject of their discussion, the Chief and Commissioner were both honorable enough, they'd want to include her at some point.

Hearing only Joanne's side of the conversation, Joe wasn't at all surprised to hear her agreeing to come upstairs. He traded a grin with Levon. Joanne hadn't mentioned him at all.

"Gonna be a nice little surprise for Simmons and Kelley."

"Oh yeah." Joe chuckled.

Joe got to his feet slowly, ready to head upstairs with Joanne. Levon reached out to help, holding him steady. He was definitely feeling the effects of the last few days. He gave Levon a reassuring look.

"Gets to be too much, you say so," Levon ordered quietly. Joe nodded. It was easier to give in than fight with his lover about it.

Every head in the bullpen turned when Joanne opened the door and they stepped out. She rolled her eyes. "Did any of you do anything but stare at the door for the last fifteen minutes?"

Several officers gave her sheepish looks, but most just shrugged, appearing unrepentant. Joanne shook her head. "We are headed up to see the Chief and the Commissioner." She glared at them. "Try to actually earn your salaries while we're gone."

Esteban smiled broadly. "Will do, Boss."

Joe bit back a laugh. They respected Joanne, but this was definitely one time when spirits were just a bit too high to be cowed by hard looks and sarcasm. She obviously didn't mind all that much or she'd have said something to Esteban instead of just nodding.

Joe grimaced thinking about the last time they'd been to the Chief's office. At least this time they weren't going because of IA or facing a possible reprimand. It was probably the first and only time he and Levon would be headed upstairs for something that wasn't even remotely their fault.

"Ought to mark the calendar," Levon whispered, a smile lurking in his eyes. "Red letter day, Partner."

"Was just thinking that." Joe chuckled softly.

"You two…let me do the talking," Joanne ordered, fixing them both with a hard look as the elevator slowed and the light indicated the top floor.

"Yes, Ma'am." They answered in unison.

If she wanted to handle the FBI, Joe was fine with that. It was okay to challenge her authority in private or among friends, but they would never consider doing so in front of the Chief and certainly not the Commissioner. She was their boss, and a damn good one at that.

Joe still couldn't understand how the top floor could be so damn different from the rest of the building. The rest of the floors were so utilitarian in comparison. No lush carpeting, plain white walls and steel accents, no soft colors or hardwood furniture. Rank definitely had privileges.

Joanne opened the outer office door. The secretary looked up at their arrival. She gave them a neutral smile that was polite but not warm or welcoming. Joe wondered if the Chief hired her for just that look.

"Chief Shawnasy and Commissioner Johnson are expecting us," Joanne said calmly, not at all put off by the secretary's look. Her tone also made it clear she didn't expect to wait long before gaining entrance into the inner sanctum.

The secretary nodded and reached for the phone. "Sir…Lieutenant Beaumont is here to see you."

Joe wondered if he should be insulted that he and Levon weren't mentioned. Levon gave him a look, rolling his eyes, clearly thinking the same thing. Joe bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. If the secretary thought they were going to wait out here while Joanne talked to the Shawnasy and Johnson, she was going to be sorely disappointed.

"He said for you to go right on in."

Joanne smiled, mimicking the secretary's earlier look before nodding her head. Joe idly wondered if she always had that regal air or if it was something she'd learned after getting promoted. She had it down pat.

Joanne opened the solid oak door all the way as she stepped inside, giving Joe and Levon plenty of room to step in behind her. Joe didn't miss the startled expressions that greeted them when the occupants realized Joanne wasn't alone. He kept his own features arranged in a blandly neutral visage, not wanting to give anything away too soon. He saw Levon doing the same.

"Gentlemen," Joanne greeted them calmly. She waved a hand toward Levon. "I believe you know Levon Lundy." Another gesture toward Joe. "And his partner, Joe LaFiamma."

Shawnasy's mouth dropped open before snapping shut. He glared at Simmons and Kelley. He cocked his head to one side, dark eyes narrowing. "Would either of you care to explain how the dead man whose body you misplaced is standing in my office?"

Joe tried not to look amused as Simmons sputtered and Kelley looked momentarily dumbfounded. He had a feeling they hadn't given him much thought at all since finding out Levon had Franco. Bastards.

Simmons cleared his throat, nervously eying Joe. "He's not dead."

"I can see that," Shawnasy commented dryly. "I'm still waiting on your explanation." Dark eyes narrowed. "Why the hell did you want everyone to think he was dead? And just how many people were involved in this little sham?"

"I'd like to know just what faking Sergeant LaFiamma's death was intended to accomplish," the Commissioner added quietly. "It is rather clear that you deliberately left all of us out of the loop and I would like to know why."

Joe had never met Burton Johnson before. The man was whipcord thin, small round wire rimmed glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose as sharp gray eyes looked over them to focus a piercing gaze on Simmons and Kelley. He had a no nonsense air about him which made Joe glad he was on their side.

Kelley licked his lips nervously. "We knew Marconi would want proof the hit was successful."

"Proof?" Johnson arched an eyebrow.

"Yes, Sir." Kelley nodded slightly. "He typically demands something physical."

"Something more than just a picture, I take it." Johnson's lips curled into a grimace.

"Yes, Sir." Simmons confirmed with a wince. "Fingers and eyes are his favorites."

"One of our agents was assigned to keep an eye on Sergeant LaFiamma as a precaution." Kelley admitted with a soft sigh. "We were hoping to prevent the hit from taking place."

"And it didn't occur to you that warning him about it might have worked out better?" Johnson asked dryly, his tone making it very clear what he thought of that lack of foresight. "Or perhaps bringing this department up to speed?"

"It was not in the best interest-"

"Just admit you risked my partner's life for a chance at nailing Marconi." Levon glared at Simmons, dark eyes hard and cold. "And havin' everyone think he was dead was your brilliant plan to salvage somethin' from the whole cluster fuck."

"Stand down, Sergeant Lundy," Shawnasy directed, clearly not pleased with the interruption. Joanne looked tempted to elbow Levon for his outburst.

"Let him speak, Martin," Johnson countered the Chief. He cocked his head as he stared at Simmons and Kelley. "I'm thinking you boys don't play poker much, because the look on your faces says there more than just a bit of truth in Lundy's accusation."

Joe liked Johnson more and more. The Commissioner was definitely more than a paper tiger. Even Simmons and Kelley recognized it, Joe thought with a silent snicker. They'd been calling him 'sir' consistently without any suggestion of insult or sarcasm.

Simmons pursed his lips and sent a dark look toward Levon. "We didn't mean for LaFiamma to get shot."

"Didn't do a whole hell of a lot to stop it, now did you?" Levon countered with a sneer. "And not meaning for it to happen, don't mean you didn't try to make the most of it when it did."

"Are you all right, Sergeant LaFiamma?" Johnson asked. "You did receive adequate medical attention for your injuries?"

Joe gave Johnson more points for asking about him as though he was genuinely concerned. Maybe he was; Joe couldn't really tell one way or the other.

"Yes, Sir," he dipped his head, "I was treated at the hospital." He gave Simmons and Kelley a dark look of his own. "Although, I did not appreciate being unnecessarily sedated for three days. Or having my family and friends grieve over my death prematurely."

"We weren't the ones who told your family you were dead," Simmons protested.

"You thought they should keep the report of his demise from his family?" Shawnasy asked, raising both eyebrows. "I am assuming you did the same when you agent was killed then."

Kelley flushed. "No."

"You couldn't ask for reports of his death to be kept quiet because that would have required an explanation," Johnson observed quietly, shaking his head. "I hope to hell not all your operations are this much of a mess."

"Franco is in custody," Simmons argued. "We have a key to bringing down Marconi. This operation was not a failure."

"Now that isn't quite true, Special Agent." Joanne cleared her throat.

"Excuse me?"

Joanne laced her fingers together. "You do not really believe that Michael LaFiamma would allow the death of his nephew at the hands of a rival family to go unanswered…do you?"

Kelley blanched. "He is going after Marconi?"

Joanne looked upward. "I'm guessing this whole thing worked out better on paper." She sighed, her gaze lowering to fix Kelley with a pointed look. "Just what the hell did you think Michael LaFiamma would do?"

"We didn't-"

"No, you didn't think." Joanne snorted delicately. "That much is obvious. And by not including us your back up plan, you definitely overlooked more than one obvious flaw." She waved a hand in dismissal. "That's neither here nor there. It is unfortunately done. We have no real option left but to salvage as much from this as possible."

"What are you proposing Lieutenant?" Johnson asked.

"We can make a case against Franco for attempted murder of Joseph LaFiamma and first degree murder of Special Agent Harris." Joanne held her hands as though weighing something. "The FBI will never get to use him against Alex Marconi because he probably will be sleeping with the fish long before they can make a case. And we have no way of knowing what if any additional information Franco might have relative to the Marconi crime family as a whole. We also have no real idea just how extensive Michael LaFiamma's retribution against Marconi will be. There might not be a Marconi crime family when it is all said and done."

She hesitated for a moment. "I believe this is a bird in the hand situation, Sir." Joanne shrugged one shoulder. "But I'm sure Agents Simmons and Kelley see it differently."

Simmons glared at her. "You're damn right we see it differently."

Johnson shook his head. He made eye contact with Shawnasy. "She is right. If we are going to salvage something from this mess, we need to charge Franco."

"Agreed."

"No wait a damn minute-"

"Shut up," Johnson ordered casually. "Your agency's inept handling of this entire situation led directly to this decision." His gaze narrowed as he measured the two agents in front of him. "You are free to lodge a complaint with your superiors." Johnson's lips curled into a tight smile. "I'm sure we will have a lot to discuss."

"Lieutenant Beaumont, please see to it that Franco is charged and processed through booking," Shawnasy directed. He grimaced. "I'm sure he's got an attorney lined up."

Joanne dipped her head in acknowledgement of his order. "If he doesn't, I'll make sure one is provided." She paused. "Will you be needing me or my men for anything else?"

"No. That will be all."

Joe didn't really object to being dismissed. Simmons and Kelley weren't his problem, and they'd gotten permission to deal with his would-be killer appropriately. And Joe was ready to find a place to sit down and just let this mess be someone else's problem for awhile.

He didn't object when Levon stayed close to him, ready to give him support if he needed it. Joe didn't think he would, but he knew himself well enough to know it was better to be safe than sorry. He leaned into Levon a bit once they were safely in the elevator.

"You okay, Joe?"

"Yeah…just tired."

"Take him home after you get him checked out," Joanne ordered quietly. "And I don't expect to see either of you for at least two days." She gave Levon a hard look. "We clear?"

"Crystal."

Joe couldn't really see either of them arguing with her. Levon still looked worn down, tired and gaunt. That little nap and bit of food he'd eaten hadn't been enough to undo several days of sleeplessness and poor appetite. And he felt like he could easily sleep for another day or two.

"You'll let everyone know what's going on?" Levon asked, holding the door to the elevator open on their usual floor, letting Joanne exit.

"Yeah, I'll give them the whole story." She rolled her eyes. "I'm fairly confident if I didn't, they'd lynch me."

Levon snorted. "Doubt that." He grinned. "But yer smart not ta risk it."

The doors closed again, and Levon hit the button for the garage level. He looked at Joe. "We go to the hospital, get you looked over and head for home, yeah?"

"Sounds like a plan, Cowboy."

Joe sighed softly, watching Levon sleep. In the two days since his 'resurrection' this was the first time his lover had slept more than a few hours without waking up from a nightmare. Joe hoped Levon's uninterrupted slumber signaled the blond was finally starting to get over the shock and grief of believing Joe to be dead.

Joe shifted slightly, wincing when his shoulder protested. It was better than it had been. In another week or two he'd be starting physical therapy. Dr. Anders might have been a schmuck when it came to letting the FBI convince him telling people Joe was dead was a good idea, but the man was a top notch surgeon.

Levon mumbled something unintelligible and snuggled in closer. Joe immediately brushed his fingers through the soft riot of curls, encouraging the other man to settle again. He definitely needed the rest. In another day they'd be inundated with members of Joe's family.

Joe was damn glad Aunt Rosa was coming. It wasn't just because he loved her; she knew about him and Levon. Rosa was also a force to be reckoned with when it came to controlling the rest of the family. In her own quiet, dignified way, she'd make sure none of them said or did anything that would overtax Joe, alienate the locals or piss off Levon.

Joe wasn't sure if he was up to telling everyone about him and Levon. Although, at this point he wasn't entirely sure which relatives knew and which didn't. Several of his cousins had hinted at knowing during his call home yesterday. He'd decided to just roll with it for now. Joe was pretty sure his return from the dead would make any family member who had issues with his sexuality keep his or her mouth shut. And he was confident if they had issues they wouldn't be part of the horde about to descend upon on him and Levon.

Joe glanced at the clock, grimacing when he realized it was after midnight. He should be sleeping. Staying awake didn't keep Levon's nightmares at bay…he knew that, but it didn't mean he didn't feel the need just the same.

It wasn't like he was really all that tired. Joe had slept most of the day. The damn pain pills always had that affect.

Levon sighed, shifting again. In the faint light, Joe could see dark eyes blinking sleepily as his lover raised his head. Levon said his name, a barely audible whisper.

"Yeah, Cowboy?" Joe kept his voice soft as well when he responded, knowing it was futile to pretend to be sleeping.

"You okay?"

"I'm good."

"Why you awake then?" Levon mumbled around a yawn, one hand patting Joe's chest.

"I slept all day," Joe reminded him, smiling wryly.

"Wasn't all day," Levon chuckled, a rough and raspy sound.

Joe rolled his eyes. "Close enough."

"You hurting?"

"No." Not enough for another pill. Joe didn't want any more meds. "I'm just not tired."

Levon snorted. "Liar."

Joe glared at him even though he knew the darkness would make it pointless. "I am not tired."

"Yeah, you are." Levon gave him a quick kiss. "I know what yer doing."

"And what am I doing?" Joe arched an eyebrow.

"Keeping the boogeyman at bay." Levon sighed. He caressed Joe's cheek. "I appreciate the effort, but it ain't necessary. 'Sides, you bein' awake don't make a hell of a lot of difference."

"I know that." Joe ground out. "But---"

Levon placed a finger against his lips. "I appreciate you bein' ready to wake me up. Believe me, I don't really want to see you getting shot over and over." Levon shook his head. "But I don't want you wearin' yerself out either."

Joe pulled Levon's finger away from his lips, holding his lover's hand to his chest. "I'm not wearing myself out. Promise."

"That's why you been takin' naps without pitching a fit." Levon sighed. "Would it kill you to just talk to me?"

Joe rolled his eyes. "Probably no more than it would if you talked to me."

"Point." Levon shook his head, rubbing at his eyes. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

Joe pursed his lips. Leave it to Levon to just lay it out there and expect him to pony up. He shifted, bunching the pillow up behind him so he could sit up more. Levon propped himself up on an elbow. Even though Joe couldn't see his face clearly in the dark, he knew his lover had that expectant countenance, dark eyes steady and patient.

"Why the hollow points?"

Levon turned his face away. "Found those, hunh?"

"Yeah, I found them." Joe waited silently, giving Levon as much time as he needed.

"I did it once, you know?" Levon shifted, sitting up, his back to Joe. "The whole shock and loss and funeral shit. Struggled to drag my ass out of bed every day. Tried to act like I really gave a damn and wasn't just going through the motions."

Levon took a deep, shaky breath. "I didn't even love Caroline any more, Joe, not like I did, and it still hurt like hell to bury her."

Joe reached out to lightly stroke Levon's back. "Cowboy-"

"I couldn't do it again, Joe. Didn't have it in me." Levon drew his legs up, head bowing to rest on his knees. "I know it sounds like some stupid cliché, but I couldn't imagine life without you."

Levon shivered. "It was you that pulled me back the last time. I don't think anyone knew just how close I was then ta pulling the trigger back then."

Joe cursed silently. He shouldn't have asked, hated that he'd dredge up both old and new pain. He sat up, and wrapped his arms around Levon, wincing that the faint chill he could feel on his lover's skin.

"Back then, I thought about it every night." Levon leaned back into Joe. "Told myself every night to just wait until tomorrow. That it might bring somethin' worth getting out of bed for… somethin' that might make breathing less of an effort and not seem so damn futile."

Levon turned his face into Joe's neck, placing a soft kiss near his pulse point. "And you showed up. Bound and determined to be contrary as hell. I had to fight you every step of the way."

Joe felt his face warm remembering their first turbulent days. He hugged Levon closer to him. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." Levon chuckled softly. "Needed that. Needed you, even if I didn't know it at the time."

"Well…then…You're welcome."

Levon sighed softly. He raised a hand to capture one of Joe's. "Kept telling myself this time that I just had to solve the case. Just had to hang in there to get justice for you. Then I could put it all behind me. Make it so it didn't hurt any more…ever." Levon shifted, turning in Joe's arms. "Wasn't something I took lightly, ya understand that right?"

Joe nodded. "Yeah, Cowboy, I get it."

He knew he'd have felt the same way. Joe had trouble remembering he had a life before he'd met Levon. He couldn't fathom life without him.

"It scared me a little when I found those rounds," Joe said softly, remembering the cold feeling that settled into his gut at the thought of Levon taking his own life. He shuddered internally when he thought about what might have happened if he hadn't eluded the FBI when he did.

"Meant to put the damn things away 'fore you saw them," Levon admitted, sounding sheepish.

"Why not just throw them away?"

"Cause I paid for them."

"Damn, Levon." Joe couldn't help laughing at his lover's matter-of-fact, borderline indignant answer. It was so like him.

"They are just bullets, Joe. Not too different than the sort we keep in our guns every day."

Joe snorted. "Different enough."

"Just a tool, Joe." Levon shook his head. "If ya didn't know what they were for… probably wouldn't bother you so bad."

"But I do know."

"Can get rid o' them if you want," Levon offered.

Joe considered taking Levon up on that. It was an honest offer, he knew that. He also knew how easy similar bullets were to come by; more could be bought with little fuss or fanfare. And while hollow points would do the job, they weren't strictly necessary.

"They are just a tool," Joe repeated softly. "One that I hope to hell neither of us ever have to use."

"Amen," Levon whispered. "Wanna grow old with you, Joe."

"Same here, Cowboy." Joe smiled. "Sort of figured we'd spend our twilight years here," he murmured, placing a kiss in Levon's hair. "Me taking photos. You still playing with your horses, maybe a little woodworking. Spend every evening after dinner on the swing together."

"Sounds nice." Levon yawned. "Good plan that."

"Glad you think so."

"I do." Levon sighed. "Anything else we need ta talk about?"

"You okay with my family coming to visit?"

Levon chuckled. "Seem ta recall it was you that was nervous the last time, not me."

"Shaddup." Joe lightly smacked Levon's shoulder. "I had good reason to be."

"Yeah, you did."

Levon snuggled in closer. Joe pulled the comforter up to cover him more fully.

"We got a reason ta be nervous this time?" Levon didn't sound worried, just cautious.

"Don't think so." Joe shook his head. "Rosa will make everyone behave."

"Damn glad she's on our side."

"You and me both, Cowboy." Joe knew they couldn't have a better ally.

"How many are coming again?"

"Six."

"Damn." Levon sounded just a bit awed. "Can I just say for the record I'm glad I don't have much family."

Joe laughed softly. "They aren't all staying here."

"Thank God." Levon yawned. "Don't think I'd survive iffen they did."

"It won't be that bad."

"Easy for you ta say." Levon chuckled. "You grew up with these people."

"You can always go outside and play if it gets to be too much." Joe grinned.

"What do you mean..if?" Levon snickered. "We both know I'm gonna spend most of my time in the barn."

"Rafe's coming." Joe knew that would please his lover; a consolation of sorts. Rafael and Levon had bonded over their mutual interest in horses when Joe's cousin had been to visit two years ago.

"Be good to see him again." Levon sighed. "Anyone else I know coming?"

Joe frowned, mentally reviewing his family members. It was sometimes hard to remember that Levon hadn't met them all. "Not sure," he said, admitting defeat a few moments later.

"S'okay." Levon patted his chest. "I'll jus' make them wear name tags."

Joe laughed. He could just see his family's reaction to his lover handing out tags for them to write their names on. Definitely picture worthy.

"You feel like maybe sleeping now?" Levon yawned. "Anything else we gotta talk about can wait until the sun comes up, right?"

"That's what three, four hours?"

"Bout that."

"Waited this long." Joe shifted, encouraging Levon to snuggle in as close as possible. He adjusted the pillow behind him and settled in. "Few more hours won't hurt, I suppose."

"Good plan." Levon patted his chest. "You always were more than jus' a pretty face."

"Well with you being good looking, I have to be the smart one."

Levon laughed. "Love you, Joe."

Joe placed a kiss in Levon's hair. "Love you, Levon."

Joe took a breath and let it out slowly. He was glad they'd talked. Even though there was a lot more they needed to discuss. It was really all either of them were probably prepared to handle at the moment. Small steps, Joe reminded himself, you get further with small steps.

Levon raised his head, one hand moving to cup Joe's face. "Stop thinking. Jus' going to keep us both up doing that."

Joe chuckled, turning his head to place a kiss in Levon's palm. "Thinking doesn't make noise."

"Does when you do it." Levon countered. Joe could make out his smile. Levon leaned in, their lips meeting in a sweet, chaste kiss.

"No thinking. No talking. Sleep now." Levon kissed him again.

"Okay," Joe agreed easily. He really hadn't planned to do anything else.

"Good." Levon laid his head on Joe's shoulder.

"Love you," Joe murmured. It was worth repeating.

"I know." Levon nodded against his chest. "Love you too."

He smiled when Levon started to hum a lullaby. He hadn't done that since the last time Joe's family had come to visit. It worked as well as it had then, soothing away worries and cares so he could rest.

They'd get back to what qualified as normal for them. It would take some time, but they'd get there. Together. Levon was too stubborn and set in his ways not to, and Joe wasn't any better. They were two of a kind. Joe wouldn't have it any other way.

Partners, Friends & Lovers

Houston Knights