Sticks & Stones

  “If there’s a legitimate reason you can’t get your head out of your ass, I’d like to hear it,” Burns invited as he looked back up at Zane. He paused, probably waiting to see if Zane would say anything. When he received no comment, Burns continued. “Is it your partner?” he asked carefully.

  Zane’s shoulders stiffened, and he shook his head quickly. His partner had a reputation throughout the Bureau for being hard to work with; Zane had found in the last five weeks that he got more apologetic looks from his co-workers now that he was working with Special Agent Ty Grady than he’d gotten when his wife had died. But Zane didn’t have a problem working with Ty. Not for the same reason others did, anyway.

  “It’s been hard,” he hedged. “Getting over what happened.”

  That was an understatement. The truth was that he’d been fighting insomnia, acute headaches, and suffering through nightmares when he actually did sleep alone. Tracking down a serial killer intent on not being caught was hazardous to your health, both mentally and physically, and nearly getting killed in a vicious car wreck during the hunt almost six months ago had contributed to his problems. He’d recovered surprisingly well—physically. He’d attended his rehab appointments and gym times religiously. But the rest….

  He’d been able to ignore it as long as he’d had Ty in bed next to him. When Zane first got into his company-issue extended-stay hotel suite, Ty had been there almost every night, only going home to Baltimore once or twice a week to switch out his clothing. Over the next five weeks, though, as they’d languished in deskwork waiting to be cleared for the field, the overnight stays had tapered off until Ty showed up only once or twice a week, if at all. The less Ty showed up, the less Zane slept. And while it did wonders for his physical rehab and workout schedule, it was also one of the reasons Zane had been feeling somewhat disconnected, both from his job and from his partner.

  Burns watched him knowingly. “That’s certainly understandable,” he finally agreed. “Which is why I’ve decided to give you a few more weeks of vacation before your official evals take place.”

  “What?” Zane asked in surprise. While he felt a wave of relief that he was getting a reprieve, he also felt his stomach plummet nervously. There was always a catch with Dick Burns.

  “How’s your partner, Zane?” Burns asked.

  Zane blinked a few times at the unexpected query. “Grady?” he asked warily.

  Burns’ mouth turned up in a half smile. “Do you have another partner I should know about?”

  “No,” Zane said quickly. “He’s fine.” He and Grady got along. Most of the time. Mostly in bed. The last few weeks had been a disappointing stretch, though; apparently not having a psychopath trying to kill them was slightly detrimental to forming any sort of personal relationship.

  “Fine,” Burns repeated.

  Zane waved a hand around. “Yeah. Fine. I guess. Trying to stay busy.” He rolled his eyes, thinking about the whirlwind of attitude and energy from Ty he dealt with every day. “He can’t sit still,” he told Burns.

  Burns looked highly amused as he tipped back in his leather chair. “No, he can’t. He never could. But then, neither can you,” he pointed out, looking significantly at the comfortable wingback chairs in front of his desk.

  Zane shrugged uncomfortably but took the hint and moved to the chair Burns had indicated. “Grady spends most of his free time at the gym, as far as I know,” he said, hoping to move the focus off himself. “At the office we try to keep him distracted so he doesn’t burn down the building.”

  “How’s he handling deskwork?” Burns asked knowingly.

  Zane glared at him, clearly communicating that he knew it was a bullshit question. “He’s about as helpful as you’d figure.”

  “Yes, I heard about your little day trip down to Quantico,” Burns said as he frowned and pulled back his white shirtsleeve to check his watch.

  “We did pretty damn well in that exercise,” Zane pointed out.

  “If you consider going down in a blaze of glory and paintballs ‘doing well,’” Burns said with a hint of a smile. ”The real test will come when you’re back in the field. If you ever get there,” he said seriously.

  “You know how much Grady likes to win,” Zane muttered.

  Burns pursed his lips and nodded. He seemed torn between amusement and concern. “Well, take comfort in the fact they weren’t real bullets, I guess,” he offered finally.

  Zane leaned forward to brace his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. Although Ty’s actions at the time had been surprising, Zane figured he understood. It was just a game. Ty wouldn’t leave him alone when it counted. Not if there was anything he could do about it. “Real bullets change everything,” he answered.

  “Remember that when you’re back in the field,” Burns requested wryly. “You have another evaluation set up in three weeks’ time,” Burns told Zane, his voice soft. “At which point I expect you to pass with flying colors. Your place is in the field,” he asserted. “If I can’t put you there after your vacation, I have no further use for you. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” Zane swallowed hard on the bile in his throat. That meant either a forced transfer to a desk job in another division—which would be terrible—or early retirement. Zane didn’t even want to think about that. He wouldn’t have anything left without this job or his partner. Without Ty.

  “Enjoy your time off, Zane, starting right now,” Burns offered sincerely. “Grady is getting several death threats a day from the office staff, so he’s been ‘granted’ two weeks of his own,” he added in a long-suffering voice. “What you do with your time off is none of my concern. Just don’t do it here.”

  Zane suppressed a groan. The last vacation he’d taken was a disastrous trip back to Texas to see his family. Most of it had been spent avoiding his family. “All right,” he agreed, his tone resigned. At this point, sitting alone in his hotel suite would just make things worse, but he really didn’t know what else to do. He hadn’t felt this lost in a long time, and unlike the past, he didn’t have drugs or alcohol to blame or to turn to. This time it was all on him.

  Burns was watching him closely. “Have you thought about seeing a psychiatrist?” he asked carefully.

  Zane flinched. He’d known this was coming, but it didn’t make hearing it any less painful. He really didn’t want to go that route if he could avoid it. He wouldn’t wish all the shit in his head on anybody.

  “When you get back, there’s someone I’d like you to speak to if you’re still having difficulty,” Burns told him with a sigh. “He’s not a Bureau doctor. He’s just a friend of mine who is very good.” Zane nodded slowly, and Burns took pity on him and smiled slightly. “Don’t worry, Garrett. It’ll be all right. Find a hobby or something. Take up knitting,” he suggested with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

  “Knitting,” Zane repeated flatly.

  Burns nodded as there was a knock on the door to his office, and his harried assistant opened it. Burns waved her off as a man pushed past her to enter. Zane turned to see his partner and looked back at Burns with a frown, wondering what was going on.

  “Come in, Special Agent Grady,” Burns greeted pleasantly, completely unfazed by Ty’s entrance. “Good to see you.”

  “You’re a lousy liar, Dick,” Ty Grady muttered as he ushered Burns’ secretary back out and shut the door in her face. He turned back around and glowered. “I just got off the phone with my dad,” he announced accusingly. “Said he was looking forward to seeing me this week. Know anything about that?”

  Burns merely cleared his throat and smiled.

  Zane ran his eyes over Ty, skimming over the close-cropped hair and clean-shaven face before moving his attention down over the sand-colored suit and black shirt he was wearing. The tailored suits he’d been wearing while on duty in DC looked incredible on him, though Zane knew Ty hated to wear them. He managed to look loose and comfortable in them despite the almost constant fidgeting they cause
d him. The tie took the brunt of the fussing during the day. It was usually gone by lunch.

  It was amusing to watch him, and Zane did so every day with not a little sympathy. Although, Zane admitted silently, it was worlds better to see his partner like this than as the still, silent ghost of himself Ty had been after the major concussion he’d suffered on their last case.

  Right now, Ty looked annoyed, the slight wrinkling of his narrow nose matching his furrowed brow and sparking greenish eyes. He was angry; it was obvious in the sharp and annoyed movements of his lanky, muscled body and the tightness in his jaw.

  Ty moved further into the office, glancing at Zane as if he were just noticing him there. He pointed at Zane accusingly. “What’s he done now?” he demanded of Burns.

  “Why would you suppose he’s done anything?” Burns asked. Ty opened his mouth to speak, but Burns was faster. “From what I understand, you two are wreaking more havoc amongst the office drones than you ever did in the field. Got anything to say to that?”

  “Yeah,” Ty huffed in response. “Stop giving my dad progress reports!”

  “He’s an old friend, Ty,” Burns said to him in a low voice. “And I will talk to him whenever I goddamned please. Sit down,” he ordered.

  Ty hesitated stubbornly for a moment and then reluctantly moved to obey, flopping into the seat beside Zane. He glared at his partner, as if his being there were somehow Zane’s fault. Zane rolled his eyes and turned his chin so he was looking back out the window.

  “Why are we here?” Ty asked impatiently.

  “To embarrass me for jackassing my eval,” Zane muttered.

  “You’re here to amuse me,” Burns corrected in a sarcastically sweet tone. “But now that you mention the tests….”

  Ty glanced over at Zane and frowned slightly. “What’s going on?” he asked, the annoyance draining away, replaced by growing concern.

  “Why would you think anything’s going on?” Burns asked curiously. “Smell something in the wind, do you?”

  “Uh huh,” Ty responded warily as he looked between them, either oblivious to Burns’ sarcasm or ignoring it.

  “Garrett is going on a little vacation,” Burns answered as he leaned back in his chair.

  “What? How long?” Ty demanded.

  “Three weeks.”

  “What?” Ty repeated, slightly more panicked. “But who will I get to do my paperwork?”

  “Jesus Christ,” Zane swore quietly. Burns was practically kicking his ass to the curb, and all Ty could think about was the paperwork. Classy.

  “I’m still filling out forms from throwing his gun at that cab!” Ty told Burns.

  Zane’s lips quirked. Every bullet fired from a service weapon had to be accompanied with a written report for the Bureau. Ty had fired… quite a few bullets at the cab that had almost smeared them across the highway in New York City. Zane didn’t know what paperwork you had to fill out for throwing your gun at something. He’d never tried that before. Hell, he’d never even thought of it before.

  “Don’t worry about the paperwork,” Burns told Ty with a grin. “You can finish it when you get back.”

  Ty went silent, pursing his lips as he gave both Burns and Zane measuring looks. “Where am I going?” he asked carefully as he looked between them again.

  Zane knew Burns sometimes sent Ty off to mysterious places that never produced paperwork. He had yet to find the right opportunity to ask about that though. Ty probably thought he was being sent on one of those trips now. “I’m going on ‘vacation,’ remember?” Zane reminded him, internally bracing for impact.

  “What, I have to go with him?” Ty asked incredulously. “Why the hell am I being punished too? Jesus Christ, Dick, I’d rather take his damn tests for him than be sent off into exile!”

  “Would you do any better?” Burns asked pointedly.

  Ty leaned forward in his chair and smacked his hand against the desk. “I have never fucked up an eval,” he protested in a hurt voice.

  Burns slowly raised an eyebrow. He leaned forward and pushed the folders on his desk around slowly. Then he picked one up and tapped it on the desk, giving Ty a significant look.

  “What?” Ty asked, his tone suspicious.

  Burns silently slid the folder across the desk.

  “What is this?” Ty asked as he took the folder and opened it.

  “Your latest psych evaluation,” Burns answered without commenting further.

  Ty frowned as he looked at the file and began shaking his head before he snapped the folder shut again, tossing it onto the desk. “Is this medical leave then?” he asked tightly.

  Zane sat quietly, taking in the news that Ty must have failed his most recent psychological exam as well. He was surprised. While he himself—usually—was pretty damn good at lying his way through just about any test, Ty was an expert at hiding things he didn’t want other people to know, and mental problems would be at the top of that list. Zane frowned. Ty must not have recovered from the trauma suffered at the hands of the Tri-State killer as well as he claimed. Zane could understand that. He knew Ty had faced almost certain death when Tim Henninger had bricked him into a catacomb and left him in the dark to die. That had to affect a man, especially one whose sanity already teetered on the edge on a good day.

  “As I told your partner, these results will never see the light of day,” Burns was informing Ty. “Your real evals will be given in two weeks. Zane’s in three. Until then, you are both officially on vacation.”

  Ty was silent, staring at Burns until Burns actually shifted in his chair as he met Ty’s eyes.

  “My dad knew you were sending me on vacation,” Ty stated. “He know what’s in that file too?” he asked him softly.

  Burns gave a shake of his head in answer. “You know better,” he chastised. “But your father asks after you, Ty,” he said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “He worries. Maybe if you called home more often I wouldn’t have to give him news when I talk to him.”

  Zane shook his head imperceptibly, feeling suddenly uncomfortable about being there. There’d always been something more between Grady and Dick Burns than merely a relationship between agent and director. Now he had some idea of what it was. Burns knew Ty’s family, and fairly well, from the sound of it. While their relationship seemed nice on the surface, he could imagine it was a nightmare for Ty, who was so protective of his privacy. Zane didn’t want to think about what he’d do if Burns had a direct line to his own father. He shifted to study his partner, whose face was stony and blank.

  “Garrett, we’re done,” Burns announced without looking away from Ty. “Would you excuse us?”

  Zane hesitated for a long moment and then murmured, “Yes, sir,” before standing and exiting the room without looking at his partner again. Once he got out of the main office and shut the door, he leaned back against the wall and exhaled heavily.

  Well, it could have been worse.

  TY LOOKED down at the file on the desk again, waiting until he heard the door click, and then he looked back up and met Burns’ eyes.

  “I’m fine,” he said in a low voice.

  “For now,” Burns answered. “Maybe.”

  “Don’t do this, Dick,” Ty pleaded. “You take this job away from either of us, and we’re both done,” he said with a tap to his own temple.

  Burns raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? Both of you?”

  Ty cocked his head, trying not to react too obviously to anything Burns said or did. But Burns didn’t look away; he just watched and waited.

  “What?” Ty finally asked, feeling uncomfortable under the older man’s piercing gaze.

  Finally sniffing, Burns relaxed back into his chair. “I have it on very good authority that without this particular job, you would have three more waiting for you,” he said with a sigh. “From organizations that would be less concerned about your mental health than I might be.”

  Ty shifted, trying not to fidget.

  “I know why you stay here, Ty, an
d I’m grateful to you,” Burns went on in a gentler tone. “But I begin to wonder how long I can keep you here before you just go stark raving mad on me. They’re still cleaning up paint in Hogan’s Alley.”

  “That wasn’t all me,” Ty reminded defensively.

  “You don’t owe me your dad’s loyalty,” Burns told him, ignoring his interruption. “Don’t think I don’t know that.”

  Ty swallowed heavily and linked his fingers together, trying harder not to shift around in the creaky old wingback.

  “It’s not necessarily you I’m worried about here, kiddo,” Burns continued. “If abnormal psych evals from you concerned me overly much, I’d never get any sleep.” He paused. “Tell me about your partner, Ty,” he requested. “How is he?”

  Ty met Burns’ eyes carefully, wondering just how much the man knew about him and Zane. But it was safer to play dumb than it was to try and find out. No matter how well Ty knew Burns, something like fucking around with his partner wouldn’t go unpunished.

  Ty shrugged, deciding to bypass the other comments for the one he was comfortable talking about. “He’s struggling a little,” he answered.

  “Why haven’t you done anything? Or said anything?” Burns asked, his voice flat.

  “To who?” Ty asked calmly. “You? You telling me you didn’t know? Thought he’d be okay right back in Miami after all we went through?” After healing up from his injuries in New York, Zane had been pitched right back into undercover work. It hadn’t gone particularly well, and although he’d kept away from the drugs and the drink, he’d definitely been a mess in the head when he’d gotten back to DC to be re-partnered with Ty.

  Burns’ face took on a pinched look, and he shook his head. “I made a mistake, Ty. It happens to the best of us.”

  “Yes, it does,” Ty agreed. He nodded at the file on the desk. “My marks are low, but they’re acceptable. So I’m guessing you want me gone for a reason. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I’m juggling some paperwork here,” Burns informed him, his shoulders sagging to show how exhausted he really was. “In order to bury these current tests, I have to have both of you make yourselves scarce for a while. Nothing more sinister than that,” he assured Ty.