Most of the time, Eli was an honest enough person that working for a human lie detector didn’t really bother him. Of course, most of the time there wasn’t any reason for him to lie to Lightman in the first place. That helped a lot.

His life had never been so turned upside-down as when he’d spent every waking minute trying to appear as if he had nothing to hide from anyone, let alone Lightman. That fiasco had taught him one very vital thing that he’d always kinda known without really thinking about it: no one can lie to Cal Lightman. Not even someone like Eli, who’d been trained in human deception, both how to detect it and how to perform it.

All of which meant that even if he’d wanted to hide Jack’s job offer from Lightman, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to pull it off. Not that he’d gotten the chance to try, since the man had simply walked through the door and made fun of the offer by giving Eli his business card and then continuing on his way. Jack’s card had sat in his pocket every day for the rest of that week, a reminder that there were other options in life.

He’d finally put it away in his desk at home. It said something that he’d never thrown it away, even months later, and Eli didn’t want to examine what, exactly. He took it out now and again, when Lightman was being a particularly mean hardass, usually, but always put it back.

“Hey. What are you doing tonight?”

Eli jumped a little, jolted from his thoughts by Ria’s voice. Closing the book he hadn’t been reading, he looked over and answered, “Not much, why?”

“Thought we could get a drink,” she replied.

Eli’s eyebrows first lifted in surprise and then lowered suspiciously. “You’re not after my ant farm again, are you?”

She laughed, dark eyes filled with humor. “No, I promise.”

Closing the book with a snap, Eli set it aside and hopped to his feet with, “Then I’m in.”

He grabbed his coat on the way out and followed her to the elevator. Gillian waited there, which surprised him, but it was quitting time. Maybe she was actually going home on time for a change.

“I was thinking about Antonio’s,” Gillian announced, dispelling the ‘going home’ theory. “They have the best wine list around.”

Ria smirked a little as she replied, “Sure, if you’re going for wine and falling asleep. This is supposed to be fun, remember?”

Lightman called from down the hall, “Oi! Where do you lot think you’re going?”

Eli turned to find the man striding towards them and hid a grin. The shorter man looked peeved that they’d been going out together without him.

Pointing a finger at him, Lightman continued, “You don’t get to laugh at me. Foster, we were going to check through the Farden file tonight.”

Gillian held up a delicate hand and countered firmly, “I’m going out for a drink with friends. You’re welcome to join us.”

Lightman looked distinctly put out as he reminded, “Emily’s at home.”

Blue eyes sparkling, Gillian challenged, “And you getting home at a decent hour for a change because you were out with us instead of obsessing over a case will do what to her, exactly?”

Eli honestly wasn’t sure if they were flirting or if it was two old friends needling one another and pushing each other’s buttons just because they could. The two could look surprisingly similar.

Scowling, Lightman said, “Fine. But Antonio’s is out. We’re headin’ to Decker’s.”

A sliver of surprise ran through Eli. It had been well over a year since the last time Lightman had gone out with them; before Ria came on board, actually. Well, and Christmas, but that didn’t really count since the whole month was a series of parties.

The Double Decker was a two-story, standalone building with the face of an English pub, complete with a red phone booth out front and British flag hanging above the door alongside an American flag. Inside was thankfully smoke-free, but the rest was pretty accurate for atmosphere. The Guinness was warm, the food fried, and the waitresses curvy and somewhat short.

Lightman waved to Darius behind the bar as they walked to a booth in the back and the even shorter Englishman grinned back, revealing a gold front tooth that hadn’t been there before. Eli shook his head in amusement and wondered if Darius had finally met a fight he couldn’t get out of unscathed, or the man’s vanity had taken a drastic upping.

Conversation was, thank God, not about work. Eli had almost forgotten just how charming and fun Lightman could be during the stress, insults, and betrayal of the last year. With all the crap that had gone down, he’d pushed aside the reason for working for Lightman in the first place. Not because of his legendary powers of observation and the chance to work for the best, although there was that. No, he’d moved to D.C. on the sole force of Lightman’s personality after having seen the man give a single lecture. A lecture that had changed Eli’s life and his perception of the world around him.

Eli got up around eight to use the men’s room and literally bumped into Jack Rader on the way. The other man grabbed hold of him when Eli stumbled, steadying him. Even dressed casually, Jack wore expensive clothes that fit him just right. He looked good, of course, broad shoulders and strong build accentuated by the fitted, but not too fitted, shirt and slacks.

Smiling broadly, Jack exclaimed, “Eli! Hey, how are you?”

“Good, thanks,” Eli replied as they shook hands. “You?”

Jack shrugged. “Can’t complain. Business is good, so I’m good. You know how that goes.”

Eli did and nodded to agree. Lightman’s moods were always just a little predicated on how the business was doing, especially now that he’d bought out his ex-wife. “Saw you on tv the other day about the Welker case.”

“Oh yeah? How’d I do?”

‘Do,’ not ‘look,’ which was an interesting word choice. The other man had always preened just a bit obviously in front of both Lightman and Foster and now Eli wondered if that hadn’t been deliberate. Like maybe the man had been suckering them in with their own expectations. Expectations that Eli didn’t have.

A half-smile twitched over Eli’s face and he admitted, “You did good, very good. I’m glad Lightman didn’t take the prosecutor’s case to go up against you.”

“High praise indeed,” Jack joked, leaning closer.

Eli found himself taken in by the blue eyes and then wondered why every man he was attracted to was on the shorter side, powerfully built, and brilliant. It was starting to get annoying.

Jack continued, “I’m glad we bumped into each other here. I’ve been thinking about you recently.”

Surprised, not finding a trace of deception on the man’s face, Eli echoed, “You were?”

Jack nodded again and said, “Hard not to with Cal almost blown to bits and The Lightman Group all over the airwaves because of it.”

That tractor bomb incident still gave Eli the willies.

“What are you doing this weekend?”

The question startled Eli and he countered, “Why?”

Jack grinned and said, “Because if you’re free, I’d love to take you to dinner.”

Eli blinked at him in surprise. “Um, weren’t you flirting with Foster?”

“Tomato, tomahto,” Jack replied easily.

An easy tone belied by the slight tension now in his posture and face. Jack wasn’t as blasé about his bisexuality as he’d like people to think.

Or maybe, a small voice inside spoke up, he’s just nervous about you rejecting him.

Eli was more startled by that thought than getting asked on a date by the head of a rival firm.

“Or not. Sorry if I misread you.”

Shaking himself out of it, Eli said, “No, it’s not…ah, you just, you took me by surprise. I’m not busy this weekend. Well, unless a case comes up.”

Jack brightened and relaxed simultaneously. Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he took out a card and said, “Why don’t you call me on Saturday and let me know how it’s looking. I’ve got great seats to the Met.”

Eli flushed a little as he waved off the card and said, “I ah, I still have the card you gave me.”

Jack’s eyebrows lifted this time and then he smiled softly, without a hint of triumph or arrogance present. “I’m glad. Okay. Well, I’ll talk to you on Saturday then.”

Eli watched him go and then continued on his way to the men’s room, a little surprised that the whole encounter had taken less than five minutes. When he got back to the table, no one commented on his absence or Jack, which meant that no one had seen their chat. Just as well, since he didn’t really want to get into it with Lightman. There were few subjects more likely to garner a tirade than Lightman’s former student.

It was about nine when things broke up and, another miracle, Lightman paid for it all. He waved off their thanks and winked at Gillian as he said, “It’s all an expense anyhow, right?”

Gillian rolled her eyes and ordered, “Use your personal card, Cal. We didn’t talk about work for once.”

Bright hazel eyes glinted with good humor as Lightman held a card out to the waitress with, “Slave driver, that one is.”

The girl grinned back at him and took the card before heading out.

Decker’s was nowhere near a bus that went by his place, so Eli pulled out his cell to call a cab.

“Put it away,” Lightman ordered. “I’ll give you a lift.”

Eli’s eyebrows lifted and he said, “You will?”

Gillian seconded firmly, “He will.”

Outvoted, not that he minded, Eli put his cell away. It was only a few minutes later that the bill was taken care of and they were outside in the cool night air. It felt good, this time between spring and summer; warm during the day, but not too cold at night. The trees were blooming, which generally made his nose twitch, but it made for a little bit of color in an otherwise very gray city.

Eli closed his eyes once he was in the passenger’s side of the car, pleasantly buzzed and hoping to enjoy it.

“So in all this time, I never knew you could sing.”

So much for enjoying the buzz, he thought with a sigh. It sounded like the prelude to some kind of insult.

Sounding irritated, Lightman said, “That wasn’t going to be an insult, I’m genuinely surprised that I didn’t know that about you.”

Eli finally opened his eyes and looked over at the other man, who was just sliding the key into the ignition to start the car. “You were making conversation?”

Lightman scowled at him and retorted, “I was, matter of fact.”

It was probably the alcohol, but Eli grinned as he said, “The Great Cal Lightman reduced to making small talk. How ignoble.”

“Watch it, you. I can fire you, you know,” Lightman growled, pulling into traffic.

It occurred to him to say that if Lightman hadn’t fired him over the SEC fuckup, then he wasn’t going to fire him for getting cheeky, as the man liked to call it. Not that he said so, Eli wasn’t that far gone.

They were silent then, but it wasn’t a difficult one. Lightman wasn’t the type to speak idly just to hear himself talk, at least not unless there was someone he wanted to impress, and Eli was too tired to babble in his usual fashion.

“So what’d Rader want?”

Eli groaned. He’d known it was too good to be true that no one hadn’t seen them talking. “Would you believe me if I said we were just talking?”

“Not a bit.”

“He asked me on a date.”

Eli could practically hear the wheels spinning in Lightman’s head as he took in the new information. The there-and-gone-again lighting from lampposts was too fleeting for him to get a good read on the other man. Not that he could do so if Lightman didn’t want him to.

Lightman finally answered, “Make sure he takes you somewhere nice. The blighter can afford it and you can’t.”

Stung a bit, Eli protested, “I’m not exactly destitute, you know.”

Lightman’s mouth curved into a smile as he replied, “No, but Rader’s got several million stashed away somewhere.”

Eli blinked in shocked and demanded, “Excuse me?”

“Oh yeah. The lad’s up to his eyeballs in green,” Lightman told him. “Didn’t you know?”

Swallowing against a suddenly dry throat, Eli just shook his head. Of course, now a lot of things made sense about Jack, up to and including his ease with the media.

“So where’s he taking you?”

Eli looked back at Lightman, but the other’s eyes were on the road as he navigated the late night traffic jam that had appeared from nowhere. He cleared his throat and said weakly, “Told me he had good seats at the Met.”

“Did his homework then. Knows you like opera. You must’ve impressed him during his visits.”

Eli’s gaze narrowed and he reminded sharply, “He did offer me a job.”

“So he did,” Lightman murmured. “And you kept his card all this time. Should I be worried, Loker?”

Eli opened his mouth to tell him not to be ridiculous and then closed it again, unsure.

Lightman glanced at him then and whatever he saw on Eli’s face made him nod slowly and say, “Good to know.”

Sighing, Eli looked back out the window and wished he knew what Lightman had seen because it would be nice to know exactly what he was feeling, other than confused as hell.

* * * *

Life, as Cal Lightman had known all along, was not in any way, shape, or form, fair. Just when he figured he had no shot in hell with Eli, that the man might not be impossibly straight but nearly so, Jack Rader stepped in to swoop the lad off his feet. Flippin’ Jack Rader, of all people. Bloody smug bastard always in the right place at the right time. If he’d known all it would take was a pair of bleedin’ opera tickets, Cal would have sprung for them a couple of years ago.

Then again, it wasn’t like he’d have been able to keep Loker even if he’d somehow managed to get him in the first place. Cal liked to think that he’d learned from his mistakes with Zoe, but it really wasn’t all that likely. He was too set in his ways to adapt to someone else’s needs this far along in the game.

On the other hand, he and Loker were more suited than he and Zoe had ever been. Eli had no need to be top dog, nor any desire to outshine him where Zoe was afflicted with both personality flaws. Not to mention the Daddy issues Loker had about him. It certainly made it easier to get round the young man and to keep him happy with only a kind word here and there. The lad had been almost pathetically grateful not to get sacked over the SEC thing.

With all of that, it was likely they might have made a decent go of it had Cal known Loker swung that way. If he’d paid the slightest attention to the younger man’s social life, then he’d probably have noticed before Rader stepped in to steal him away.

Cal glared at his computer and demanded of no one, “Why does this always happen?”

“Why does what always happen?” Emily asked from behind.

He hadn’t heard her come into his office, but didn’t jump; he’d trained himself over decades not to make any sudden or startled moves, considering all of them a weakness. Spinning in his chair, he replied smoothly, “Damned computer won’t do what I want it to.”

A grin surfaced on her pixie face as Emily replied, “Because you’ve terrified it and it takes what victories it can?”

“Stop anthropomorphizing,” he ordered sternly. “Computers aren’t sentient.”

Emily snorted. “Says you. Dinner. Feed me.”

Cal glanced at the clock and saw it was almost six. He winced and said, “Sorry, luv. Where do you want to go?” As Emily’s mouth opened, he had a sudden thought and interrupted, “Scratch that, it’ll be a surprise. Go get dressed.”

Her eyebrows rose as she pointed out, “I am dressed.”

“No, not that. You know. Dressy dressed. Like your Mum would take you somewhere nice.”

“Why? Is Mom taking me somewhere nice?”

“Cheeky bugger. Go get dressed.”

Emily giggled on her way out of the office.

It took calling in a couple of favors, but by the time Emily was swirling around in a pretty little black dress, one far too grown-up for his fifteen year old daughter in his opinion, Cal had secured two tickets to the opera at the Met. He smiled at her, fatherly pride momentarily overcoming fatherly terror at how fast she was growing up. “You look far too beautiful to be my daughter.”

“I know,” she replied, smiling broadly.

He laughed and said, “Now be sure and tell your Mum that I took you to the opera for no reason whatsoever. It’ll give her a migraine trying to figure out why.”

Emily rolled her eyes and took his arm as they left the house and asked, “Is it really for no reason?”

Cal gave her an innocent look. “Now why would I voluntarily take you to the opera, if not just to be a good dad?”

“Well, Gillian called earlier and asked if you were planning on showing up in the middle of Eli’s date tonight at the opera, so…”

Busted. Well and truly busted. If she didn’t own half the company, Cal would fire Foster.

“She also said to warn you that if you ruin his date, he’s going to quit for real this time.”

Scowling as he opened the door for her, he asked, “And you were going to tell me this when?”

Emily replied logically, “There wasn’t a need to, if we weren’t going anywhere.”

“You take after your mother,” Cal said, wagging a finger at her.

She grinned, blue eyes sparking with mischief. “Thanks.”

Cal shut the door and muttered, “That wasn’t a compliment.”

Emily was full of excitement on the drive into the city, asking about what they were going to see, where they would eat, how late would they be out. Even if they didn’t bump into Loker and Rader, and now Cal had to actively avoid them or he’d never hear the end of it from Foster, it would be a great night. Cal loved doing things that gave her such a glow.

They ate at an expensive Italian restaurant, not that Emily needed any help getting in the mood, and were at the theater by eight. They were in a box, so they didn’t have to worry about the cattle call of finding their seats, and were in place, waiting for the curtain by eight thirty. Cal couldn’t resist using the small binoculars to scan the rest of the theater for Loker and Rader. He found them in one of the lower boxes looking far too cozy for comfort.

And then the lights went down and Emily took the binoculars from him. He didn’t bother to watch the actual opera, far more content with watching his daughter’s reaction to the opera. It wasn’t her first time at one, but it was her favorite.

“Definitely her mother’s daughter,” he muttered.

Emily shushed him.

Rolling his eyes, he glanced at his watch and silently groaned on seeing there was another twenty minutes before intermission and the escape of alcohol. When the lights came up, he let out a long sigh and, at Emily’s glare, said, “What? It was captivatin.’ I’m sad to be not watchin’ it now. Who needs an intermission?”

“If the bull were any thicker in here…” she teased, standing up. “Let’s go and not find Eli and his date, whoever she is.”

Out of curiosity, Cal corrected, “He, not she.”

Emily paused and then grinned. “Really? No wonder Gillian had to warn you not to interfere. C’mon. I’m thirsty.”

Simultaneously proud and miffed by her attitude, Cal exclaimed, “Oi! Watch it or you’re walkin’ home.”

She snorted at the impotent threat and twined their arms together, tugging him out of the balcony with, “Yeah, right.”

The lobby was as crowded as anticipated during prime season on a Saturday night. That would, theoretically, make it easier to not bump into Loker. He brought Emily to the bar first and ordered her a Shirley Temple, ignoring her, “Dad, please, I’m not twelve anymore,” and got a scotch for himself.

When they stepped away to let others in, Cal found himself face-to-face with Rader; practically chest-to-chest, as crowded as it was in that area. His lips twitched into a feral grin as he greeted, “Fancy meetin’ you here.”

Rader’s gaze narrowed at him. “Yeah, fancy that.”

“You must be Eli’s date. Hi! I’m Emily,” Emily interrupted with the kind of forced cheer Cal had seen a lot on her mother’s face towards the end of the marriage.

Rader’s smile softened as he shook hands with her and replied, “It’s very nice to meet you, Emily, I’m Jack Rader.”

Emily’s eyes widened at his name and she looked at Cal with accusation. Whatever she thought, though, she only said, “It’s nice to meet you, too. Come on, Dad, let’s go back to the balcony.”

“I haven’t touched my drink!” Cal protested. Emily pinned a glare on him worthy of Foster, a woman more than twice her age, and he gave in immediately. He was surrounded by women who could make his life miserable and knew when surrender was the only option. Giving Rader a thin smile, he said, “Enjoy the rest of the show.”

“Oh, I will,” Rader replied, smirking.

Cal wanted to wipe the smirk right off his face, preferably with his fist, but only gulped down the expensive scotch and dropped the glass on the only table they passed.

Back in their seats, Emily pointed a finger at him and ordered, “Sit!”

He sat.

Hands on her hips, Emily informed him, “You are not going to ruin Eli’s night because the guy’s a business rival. Oh my God, Dad, territorial much? Eli’s a good guy and deserves a nice night out so don’t move from this seat until I get back. I have to run to the ladies room.”

Cal scowled, but nodded, since she was waiting for some kind of acknowledgement. At least he’d raised her right. She was far too polite to read him the riot act in public. The thought made him grin a bit and he relaxed in the seat. He didn’t know what had prompted him to show up here. It wasn’t like he could challenge Rader to a duel and win Eli’s heart like some dime store novel hero.

Be sweet if I could though, he thought, his grin widening.

He could picture it perfectly. Loker, his tall, thin frame dressed in an eighteen hundreds suit with a cloak, both of which would be threadbare because he was some kind of poor, but kind teacher. Rader, his burly body covered in an expensive, tailor-made suit, the wealthy villain. And himself, dressed in some kind of pirate gear, no, Western clothes, complete with a cowboy hat just for irony’s sake.

Him and Rader back to back.

Twelve paces out.

Turn.

Shoot.

He’d get Rader dead center in the heart while getting grazed in the arm, or no, maybe shot in the shoulder. Dire, but not life threatening. Eli would rush over, declaring himself a fool for ever having looked at the other man. Then he would bind Cal’s wound by ripping up his already thin cloak and they would go off together into the rising sun.

“What on earth are you thinking about, that you’ve got that look on your face?”

Eli’s curious voice was like cold water dashed over his head. Cal actually flinched. An involuntary flush stole over him and he glared at the young man, but bit back automatically harsh words. Forcing a smile, he replied, “None of your business. So. Enjoying the show?”

Eli frowned at him, but only said, “I am, matter of fact. Jack said you brought Emily?”

“I did. She’s powdering her nose, or whatever it is women do in there for real,” Cal confirmed.

They shared a moment of manly mystification over that subject and then Eli said awkwardly, “I didn’t know you had a box here.”

Cal shrugged and answered, “I don’t. Couple friends of mine gave me the tickets last minute.”

All true, even if he’d asked for them in the first place.

Eli frowned at him, maybe seeing the shaving of the truth in his face, but only said, “I see. Well, enjoy the rest of it, I guess. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Cal nodded. “Ta.”

Eli shook his head, a wry look in place, and left.

Letting out a long, slow sigh, Cal mocked to himself, “Ta? Ta! What are you, an idiot?”

Fortunately, Emily returned before he could answer himself.

* * * *

Eli kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the mocking to begin. For Lightman to ask about Saturday night in some snotty tone. Only, nothing happened. By the time the end of the day rolled around, he’d gotten precisely nothing done and was jumping at shadows. He made it to the elevator without incident, though, and was just starting to relax in the hopes that it just wouldn’t come up.

“What’sa matter with you? Guilty conscience?” Lightman asked from behind.

Eli jumped about a foot in fright and spun around.

Lightman pointed a finger at him. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. You’ve been damn jumpy all day, Loker.”

Glaring, Eli retorted, “Because I’ve been waiting for the torture to begin. So go ahead, already. Let me have it.”

Frowning, Lightman asked, “Have what?”

Eli countered defensively, “The mocking. The insults. The innuendo.”

Sandy eyebrows rose and Lightman questioned, “Have you done something to be mocked, insulted, or innuendoed? Innuendoed. Wait, is that a word?”

“No! It’s not a word!” Eli snapped, louder than he’d meant to be.

Gillian paused in her path down the hall, the clicking of her heels catching both their attention. She looked at them, pointed at Lightman and made a ‘come hither’ gesture with her finger before going on her way into her office.

Eli breathed a soft sigh of relief when Lightman, miracle of miracles, actually went without another word. The elevator pinged behind him and he made good his escape. Hopefully Gillian was going to give him some kind of sexual harassment lecture that would lead to no kind of conversation between himself and Lightman in the future about his social life. Well, and not that her lectures had made the slightest bit of difference in the past, but hope sprang eternal.

Ria’s hand caught the door before it closed completely and then she stepped lightly onto the elevator. She offered him a hesitant smile, like she was trying to decide what to say and not say. For a reader, she was lousy at lying and hiding things.

Eli sighed. “Go ahead. Say whatever you were going to say.”

Ria winced, but told him, “Rader asked me out.”

Eli froze at her words and then asked carefully, “And when did he do that?”

“Oh! No, not now, not recent. This was like, a couple months back,” Ria exclaimed. “But I thought you should know. You know, in case he’s not, ah, into you for, well, non-work reasons. I mean, it was a date-date, right? He wasn’t trying to court you to his firm? Because the man is smooth, Loker.”

He was smooth, as Eli could personally attest to from his experience on Saturday. He flushed a little, remembering the expensive sportscar he’d picked Eli up in, the expensive dinner, the attentiveness all night, and the slow, almost-hungry kiss on his doorstep, as if he didn’t want to scare Eli off, but just had to kiss him. The kind of first kiss everyone hoped for. Very smooth.

Which had brought him to the very personal question of what the other man could possible want with him. Eli knew he was as far from smooth and socially acceptable as a man could get. Not that he didn’t clean up good, but it wasn’t his nature. Uncomfortable for too many reasons to list, he just confirmed, “It was a date-date.”

She nodded and fell silent and then the doors opened. As they walked into the garage, Ria said, “You know, my cousin Raul is hot. Really hot. And a sweeter guy you’d never want to meet. He’s an engineer, too. Got a partnership in a business and it’s really going to take off in the next couple of years. I think…I don’t want to sound, you know, bitchy, but I really think he’s more your speed, Eli. Jack…I don’t think Jack’s got good things in mind for you.”

It was sweet, in an incredibly insulting way. Eli sighed, willing himself not to take offense.

“You’re pissed. I’m sorry, I should just keep my mouth shut,” Ria said hastily. “Pretend I never said anything. I’ll see you tomorrow, Loker.”

Eli grabbed her arm to stop her and gave her a rueful smile. “It’s okay, Ria.”

Dark eyes looked up at him hopefully as she asked, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Eli told her. He hugged her briefly and half-joked, “Keep Raul’s number handy, just in case.”

Ria smiled and then pushed him lightly. “As if you’re good enough for my cousin?”

He laughed and they split up to walk to their cars. Eli had just opened the door when his cell rang with Jack’s name on the ID. He hesitated and then answered it with a careful, “Hello?”

“Well that doesn’t sound good. Cal’s there, I’m guessing?” Jack’s warm voice replied.

Eli relaxed a little and answered more naturally, “No, actually, I was just going home.”

“Hey that’s perfect! Meet me for dinner at Antonio’s?”

“I ah, Jack, I don’t think…”

“Oh God. You’re not going to give me the ‘business and pleasure shouldn’t mix’ speech, are you? Because that’s crap. And besides, you’re not business. We hardly ever work together so you can’t hold that against me.”

“Just like Ria Torres wasn’t business a couple of months ago?”

There was a pause and then Jack told him, “No, no she was definitely business. Look, Eli, I like you, okay? I think you’re a good guy and I don’t meet many men like you. I’m not dating you to get back at Lightman and I’m not using you to get at his company.”

It can’t really be that simple, can it? Eli wondered, biting his lip.

“C’mon. At least have dinner with me tonight and let me see if I can reassure you. Dinner. No strings. You’ll be able to see that I’m telling the truth.”

Eli hesitated a moment longer and then gave in with, “Okay. I’ll be there in about a half-hour, depending on traffic.”

“Awesome!” Jack exclaimed. “I’ll see you then.”

Eli stared at his phone like it might bite him and then tossed it onto the passenger’s seat, wondering if he’d just made a big mistake by saying yes. Sighing, he climbed into the car and drove out of the garage and into rush hour traffic. He fought it all the way to Georgetown, trying to relax instead of get even more wound up by doing deep breathing exercises. It worked, sort of. When he parked in the restaurant’s lot, he was at least not ready to snap at the first person who looked at him sideways.

The restaurant was pretty busy inside, but Eli had no trouble spotting Jack at the best table in the place. He flushed a little self-consciously as he walked over; people stared at him on the way. They were probably wondering why a scruffy little nobody like him deserved the spot. He snorted to himself and thought, At least I left the backpack in the car.

Jack got to his feet when Eli arrived and pulled out the chair for him, smiling. Eli wanted to protest that he wasn’t the girl, but only sighed and let it go. Jack was like Lightman; automatically alpha. There was no doubt in his mind that a lot of their clashing was due to very similar personalities.

“Thanks for coming,” Jack said, sitting back down. “It’s good to see you again.”

Eli half-smiled and pointed out, “You saw me two days ago.”

Jack grinned. “And I’d like to see you again two days from now, or even tomorrow. Isn’t that what people who are dating, do?”

“I don’t usually get passed date number three, so I wouldn’t know,” Eli admitted with a wry twist of the lips.

Their waitress came over then with menus and asked, “Would you like to start with a drink?”

Jack met his gaze and asked, “How about a nice bottle of wine?”

Eli shrugged. “Sounds good.”

Jack’s winked at her, she was young, probably a college girl, and said, “We’ll have the House ’97 to start.”

She nodded and replied, “I’ll be right back with that, Sir.”

Once she was gone, Jack said, “Lightman bugs the crap out of me.”

Eli blinked at him a couple of times and observed, “That was random.”

Jack shook his head, countering, “No, you want reassurances and that’s how I’m starting. Lightman bugs me. He always has and always will. I was his student and I learned a lot from him, I’ll always be grateful for that, but he’s an arrogant ass who treats people badly which bugs the crap out of me. He treats you badly and that just pisses me off.”

“He doesn’t! And you’ve never even seen us interact anyhow, so how would you know?” Eli protested.

“I don’t have to. I saw how he was at the theater Saturday night and I know how he is in general. He couldn’t just let you have a nice night out with a man who wasn’t him, especially not me. He doesn’t really trust you, even though you’ve been there forever, or you would’ve been given some kind of partnership by now. Instead, you’ve been demoted to intern. The man doesn’t even pay you anymore.”

Eli demanded, “Wait, how the hell do you know all that?”

Jack quirked an eyebrow at him and said, “There’s not much I can’t find out, Eli, especially when it concerns someone I like. You did one thing wrong in all the time you were there and he takes everything you did right and flushes it all down the toilet. That’s treating someone badly, in my book.”

Thank God the waitress returned with the wine just then, saving him from having to answer.

“Have you decided on what you’d like?” she asked.

Eli looked at Jack, who nodded for him to go first. Chivalrous, he thought wryly. Fortunately, he’d been to Antonio’s often enough with Foster to know what was on the menu without looking. “I’ll have the chicken parmesan.”

Jack added, “Lasagna Bolognese, thanks.”

She smiled as she took the menus back and hurried off to place the orders.

It wasn’t nearly enough time for Eli to think of what to say.

Jack held up a hand to forestall him, though, and continued, “My interest in you is purely personal. Cal’s got the issue with me, not the other way around. Sure, I’d love to snake you or Torres from his payroll to mine since you’re the protégé and prodigy respectively, but…I asked you out because you’re funny and nice and can’t lie to save your life. You don’t know how refreshing that is.”

Eli felt somewhat indignant at that and started to protest, but Jack’s hand went up again and he subsided with a glower.

“I should amend that with, ‘can’t lie to save your life to me, Foster, or Lightman,’” Jack clarified with a charming grin. “It’s a compliment, honest. I just take one look into those brown eyes of yours and, well…I’m a goner, as sappy as it is to say. I was that day in the office, I just didn’t want to come on too strong and scare you off.”

Eli snorted. “Thanks?”

Jack winked and said, “You know what I mean.”

“So what was with all the flirting with Foster?” Eli asked, truly curious.

Jack’s grin widened as he explained, “I’m a flirt, can’t help myself. I think that’s part of what drives Cal nuts about me. He knows I’m hardly ever serious and he’s always serious, so there you go.”

There you go, indeed, Eli silently agreed. “And are you being serious with me, or is this just flirting?”

Jack reached across the table and took his hand, covering it lightly and explaining, “More than flirting, definitely, but not too sure on how serious yet. Isn’t that what dating’s for?”

Eli nodded, because it was. “I guess I just need to know you’re not in it for the conquest, so to speak. To lord it over Lightman. If you are, just tell me now. We’ll have a great night and I’ll see you around.”

Squeezing his hand, Jack promised, “This is nothing like that. It’s like I said on the phone. I like you, Eli. I want to get to know you better. Nothing’s certain in this world, but I will always be honest with you and want the same in return. If anything changes, for either of us, we just need to be up front about it, okay?”

Eli was a little surprised by the ‘us’ and prompted, “What do you think would change for me? My life never changes, not really.”

Jack’s smile faded and he hesitated, but ultimately said, “Lightman could finally see that you’re in love with him and figure out he loves you too.”

It was just as well that the waitress returned; it gave Eli time to pick his jaw up off the floor.

* * * *

After getting a scathing earful from Foster, an undeserved one in his opinion since he hadn’t even started anything with Eli this time, Cal slunk home to lick his wounds in private. Emily was studying at the kitchen table when he got home and looked up in surprise when he showed up. He forestalled her with a simple, “Don’t ask,” and went directly to the refrigerator to get an ale.

He flopped into the seat opposite her and asked, “So. What can I not help you with tonight?”

Emily grinned and answered, “Trig. How about you?”

“Foster’s cut me to the quick and I totally didn’t deserve it this time!” Cal exclaimed.

Emily’s eyebrows lifted in disbelief, though probably for his claim of not deserving it. “Well, you should probably consider it payback for all the times you got away with things she didn’t find out about.”

Cal made a face at her. “You’re a big help.”

“You did say ‘not help,’ remember?”

“Ha ha.”

She snickered a little and went back to her homework.

Cal drank his ale and started cooking up some burgers for dinner. Rifling through the freezer, he called out, “Where the bloody hell are the chips I bought? Did you eat them already?”

“Yeah, Dad, I ate an entire bag of fries on my own,” she retorted, not even looking up from the textbook. “Try under the frozen yogurt you never touch.”

He lifted up the carton and, sure enough, the bag was there. Cal muttered, “Who puts chips under frozen yogurt?” and dropped them onto a baking pan to put in the oven. Of course, that was when he realized the burgers would be cold by the time they were done and hissed in irritation as he turned off the burner.

Emily almost instantly looked up and demanded, “Okay, what was that?”

Scowling, Cal replied, “Nothing. It was nothing.”

Shaking her head, Emily countered, “Oh, I think not. I may not be an expert in deception, but I know you, Dad. What’s going on?”

He had no intention of pouring his heart out to his fifteen year old daughter when he wasn’t even sure what was wrong with Eli dating Jack in the first place. Other than the fact that it pissed him off, he didn’t have any good reason they shouldn’t be together. His cell rang then, saving him, and he found Foster’s name on the ID. He grimaced and answered, “Called to rip me another new one, have ya?”

“We’ve got a situation,” Foster replied, tension lacing her voice. “You need to come in, now. Tell Emily you’ll be out all night, maybe tomorrow night, too.”

Instantly on alert, he asked, “Who died?”

“No one yet, we hope.”

“I’ll be in, in thirty.”

“See you then.”

Hanging up, Cal said to Emily, “Sorry, luv, gotta go in. Might not be back for a couple days, so Jennie’s going to have to come over.”

Emily didn’t pout hardly at all, which made for a nice change. The ‘babysitter’ hadn’t gone over at all well, but with Zoe moved away now, there was no way to just drop her at her mum’s anymore when he had to be gone for an extended period. They’d compromised. Cal had hired a college student interested in working for his company once she graduated to spend the night with Emily when a case came up. That way he knew she’d be well taken care of. And Jennie was young enough that Emily didn’t really feel like she was being treated like a child.

She sighed, but nodded. “I’ll call her to come over.”

Cal kissed the top of her head and then headed back to the office. Traffic had unsnarled enough that the half-hour he’d promised turned out to be accurate for once. When he got there, Ben and Foster were in his office. Two wankers he didn’t know, but whose wardrobe said they were higher up in the FBI than Ben and used to getting their way, were also there and one of them was right in Gillian’s face.

“And if you can’t get this done, we’ll find someone who can,” the blondish one snapped.

Foster didn’t back down, staying right where she was any telling him calmly, “You called us forty minutes ago. We haven’t had a chance to do more than look at the scant information that you’ve gathered. That’s hardly enough time to make an assessment, let alone decide whether or not we’ll take the case.”

Good on ya, Foster, he crowed silently. She’d just neatly put them on the defensive.

Blond FBI Man glared at her and demanded, “What do you mean, whether or not you’ll take the case?”

Cal chose that moment to stride into his office and stated flatly, “She means that if you can’t treat her with respect, we’ll cut ya loose. Seemed clear enough to me.”

Ben sighed and it sounded more put upon than usual, which almost made Cal grin outright. He had that sound down pretty good; almost as good as Foster.

The black man introduced, “AD Sam Terell, Special Agent Max Bradley, Cal Lightman.”

Cal shook hands with them, being sure to squeeze just a hair too hard for their comfort, and ordered, “Fill me in, lads.”

Terell, the blond, looked like he wanted to protest, but Bradley simply jumped in with, “Someone broke into a secure facility and stole highly classified information.”

“You’re going to have to get more specific,” Cal told him.

Bradley looked at Terell, who gave him an angry ‘go ahead’ shrug. “Plans for a new kind of laser delivery system.”

Cal’s lips pursed. “That’s a bit outside your usual purview, isn’t it?”

“They were in our possession at the time because they were, well, in the head of a defecting scientist,” Bradley explained.

“Still not your usual gig.”

Bradley shook his head and confirmed, “Well, no, but he came to one of our agents and wouldn’t go to anyone else. So we took responsibility for him and brought him to a safehouse in Germany. Then we brought him here.”

“From where, exactly?” Foster questioned.

Scratching his hand, Bradley admitted, “China.”

Cal suddenly felt like he’d gone back in time forty years. How long had it been since someone had defected at a high level from anywhere? Shaking it off, he asked, “What do you expect us to do?”

Terell picked up the narration with, “We know it was an inside job. We’re even pretty sure the scientist is still alive, since whoever it was never left duty. What we need you to do, is find out who it was and get the location of where they’re holding the scientist.”

Cal looked over at Foster who gave a minute shrug, leaving it up to him. It had been forever since he’d had an honest to God espionage case to work on. Cracking a grin at the FBI man and rubbing his hands together, he said, “We’re in.”

Foster rolled her eyes slightly at his open glee, but only motioned towards the door and said, “Shall we?”

* * * *

It turned out that three of the five team members assigned to protect one Xi Ling, age thirty, five foot six, IQ 174, were in the hospital. Two had severe concussions and the third a broken arm from raising it to defend himself against the tire iron that had bludgeoned the other two and a concussion, though not quite as bad as the other two. It hadn’t mattered to the attackers that two of the agents were female. The attacker had struck fast, grabbed his quarry, and left just as fast.

In the hall, Cal glanced at Foster and commented, trying not to grin, “Striking a blow for equality, eh?”

“Cal,” she practically groaned at the horrific pun. “Please focus.”

The two who’d escaped unscathed due to supposedly being on a dinner run now waited in two of their interrogation rooms.

“Hey, I got your call. What’s going on?”

Cal turned at Eli’s voice and said, “We’ve got a genuine espionage case. Thought you’d like to sit in on the interrogations.”

Eli’s eyes widened almost comically before he regained his composure. His nod was a little too eager, but nothing unprofessional.

Cal met Foster’s merry blue gaze with his own and then said, “Be sure and have Torres watching to catch anything you might miss.”

“Yes, Cal,” Foster agreed, managing the impression of rolling her eyes without actually doing so.

One of these days, Cal would master that skill. Maybe. Maybe you had to be a woman to perfect it. Pointing a finger at Eli, he commanded, “Not a word out of you. Sit and look like you’re taking notes.”

Eli opened his mouth to protest, but then subsided as if not wanting to talk himself out of a new and very exciting part of the job.

Wise choice, really, since Cal was waiting for the opportunity to send Eli back with Foster and have Torres sit in. She really was a natural at everything he put her to, but Eli had the education and experience to pick up on things she couldn’t. Not yet, anyhow. Give her a few years and he’d have another Jack on his hands, likely. Hopefully not with the same result.

Cal walked into the first interrogation room. Special Agent James Kendall, age forty and looking a good five years older than that with a slight paunch and minor jowls, sat at the wide, white table. He was a blob of dark suit in a pure white room, aside from thinning brown hair and too-pale skin.

Sitting, Cal asked, “Don’t you ever go outside?”

Kendall blinked at him in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Outside. The sun. Fresh air. You’re very pale, mate,” Cal clarified.

Kendall frowned, working on being offended, but shook his head. “I go outside when the job requires me outside. Otherwise, I’m in the office or home in bed.”

Cal half-smiled and observed, “Explains the early, middle-aged spread.”

Definitely offended at that, though from Cal’s point of view he still appeared mostly unruffled physically, Kendall asked pointedly, “I thought you were going to question me about Ling’s disappearance.”

Pursing his lips thoughtfully, Cal asked, “Should I? Did you have anything to do with it?”

“No,” Kendall stated flatly.

Good, direct eye contact. No shifting or nervous movements. Not the guy.

A little disappointed, Cal stood and said, “All right then, piss off. You can go. C’mon, Loker.”

The Agent looked surprised, but stood as well and followed them out of the interrogation room. Cal watched him for a moment, but there was nothing in his expression or posture to reveal anything except honest surprise that it was over so quickly. No blatant relief. No triumph at successfully hiding anything.

He briefly met Eli’s gaze before turning to walk into the next room holding Agent Keith Farley, age thirty-seven, still fit though likely not as trim as he used to be, and balding with glasses. Cal hid an amused grin at the thought that it was obvious why the two had been partnered together; both had given up on climbing the corporate ladder, even the government version. He was sitting casually enough, but there was something about his expression, a tightness

“It’s Farell, right?” Cal asked, sitting down. “Chris Farell?”

Farley frowned at him and corrected, “Special Agent Keith Farley.”

Cal nodded sagely. “Right, right. So. Chris. Did you have anything to do with Xi Ling’s disappearance?”

Flashing him an irritated look, Farley corrected again, “It’s Keith, and no, I did not.”

“That’s awfully formal language right there,” Cal observed.

A tight smile surfaced and Farley replied, “Just wanted to be sure you understood me, since you seem to be having trouble with words.”

Cal smiled, relaxing and loosely crossing his legs in a posture of unconcern. He looked down at his hands, picked at an imaginary hangnail for a moment and then asked, “So how much did they pay you to steal Ling back?”

“No one paid me anything.”

“So you did it for free?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Sure seems like you’re hiding something to me. What do you think, Loker? Is Chris hiding anything?”

Eli ostensibly looked up from his blackberry, though Cal knew he’d been observing Farley all along. They were all good at misdirection like that. He shrugged and answered, “Tightness around the forehead. Flared nostrils. You’ve definitely ticked him off, but that’s not difficult considering it’s you.”

Cal nearly laughed at the dry zinger, but simply motioned for him to continue.

Putting down the handheld on the table, Eli said, “Given the slight hand tremors and bloodshot eyes, you’ve either recently given up caffeine or tobacco and, considering the shade of your teeth, I’ll go with cigarettes. That could account for the tension, but I don’t think so, not with the way you keep looking to the side, like you’re trying to remember something you’ve rehearsed. Like, say, an alibi? Although I do find it strange that your partner’s telling the truth and you’re not.”

“Yeah, that is strange,” Cal agreed, leaning forward on the table. “So tell me, Farell, what’s goin’ on?

Farley grit his teeth and replied, “It’s Farley.”

Cal jumped to his feet and loomed over the other man, snapping quietly, “Yeah, I know that. You think I don’t know the name of the traitor I’m questionin?’ You think I’m that bleedin’ stupid? C’mon, Farley, what’s your game? Who’re you really workin’ for?”

Cal’s voice rose in calculated increments until he was shouting in the man’s face.

It wasn’t a surprise when Farley jumped up and shouted back, “I’m not a traitor! I didn’t do anything to Ling!”

“Finally! Some honesty!” Cal said. “Sit.”

Farley glared, but sat.

Cal stared at him a moment, then offered genially, “So go ahead, then. Tell me why we should believe you haven’t sold out your country.”

Farley sighed and scrubbed a shaking hand through his hair. “I didn’t just quit cigarettes, okay? I figure I’m screwed now anyhow, so I might as well come out with it. No way I’m going to prison for something I didn’t do. I’m an alcoholic, okay? Shit. I was at a meeting when Ling got taken. I’ve got thirty people who’ll vouch for me.”

Cal saw Eli look at him from the corner of his eye. He didn’t look back even though he knew they were thinking the same thing. If Farley was at an AA meeting, where had his lying partner been? More importantly, how had he managed to lie to Cal?

More pissed than he’d been in a long time, mostly at himself, Cal jumped to his feet shouting, “Oi! Foster! Bring up that damn interview tape with Kendall!” and left the interview room.

* * * *

Eli couldn’t remember a time when someone had actually put one over on Lightman. It was practically unthinkable. If that weren’t bad enough, Kendall had gotten passed himself, Torres, and Foster, too, which was just bizarre. It was one thing for one of them to have a bad day and miss something, or miss everything in this case, but for everyone to screw up at the same time? Something just wasn’t kosher.

He watched as Lightman went over the video time and again and half-listened to Ben on the phone with someone about finding Kendall. The man had disappeared fast. Terell was long gone, having taken off to bring his superiors up to speed. Eli almost felt bad for the jerk…no, not really. Not after witnessing him tearing into both Lightman and Foster for clearing Kendall.

As he stood off to the side, watching, Eli noticed something overall about Kendall. He seemed very relaxed. Too relaxed. Anyone who was on the hotseat for something as big as treason would be squirming, even if they’d done nothing wrong; it was just human nature. Once he noticed that, it was a short leap to watching Kendall’s eyes exclusively, taking in the measurements of the pupils and their lack of reaction…

“He’s been hypnotized,” Eli announced apropos of nothing.

Lightman glanced at him and then walked right up to the screen, snapped his fingers and ordered, “Play it again.”

The wall-screen blinked and started at the beginning from before they’d entered the room. Kendall sat easily in the chair, looking down at his hands and waiting patiently until they arrived. He interacted calmly and didn’t present any sign of agitation or deception whatsoever.

Cal just about spasmed in fury and exclaimed, “Bloody fuckin’ hell, you’re right. He’s hypnotized, brainwashed, more like. God damn it, why didn’t I see that? Foster, call Terell…”

“On it,” Gillian replied, pulling out her cell.

Because if the agent had been that severely compromised, there was no telling what the man was capable of.

Ria frowned at him and asked, “I thought people couldn’t be brainwashed or hypnotized to do things against their will.”

Eli made a mezza-mezza hand gesture and explained, “Yes and no. For the general public going to bars or their therapist, hypnosis is a tool and a trick and doesn’t usually go that deep. It’s not meant to alter anything, just bring either latent memories to the surface or put inhibitions to rest for the amusement of all involved. Brainwashing, though, that’s a whole ‘nother kettle of fish. With the right combination of drugs, deprivation, programming and time, people can be made to do just about anything.”

“That’s bad,” Ria murmured, dark gaze worried.

Eli nodded. “Very. Kidnapping someone could be the least of it. For someone with the resources to kidnap back a defecting scientist…”

He trailed off, not needing to elaborate as to the horrors that could manifest.

The tension in the office was thick as Foster and Ben made their calls. Lightman paced back and forth a few times before snapping that he would be in his office. Eli sat next to Ria and settled in to wait. There wasn’t anything they could do without more information and a baseline to go off, which meant more video to go through once, or if, it arrived. It all depended on how cooperative the FBI was feeling after their screwup.

Ben walked over to their small cluster and said, “I’ve got his security clearance revoked and an APB and a BOLO out on Kendall. The office is working facial recognition through the traffic and security cams, but that’s hit or miss with the hour as late as it is. Hopefully we’ll get a hit.”

“I’m going to see what Cal’s up to,” Gillian said.

Ben watched her go and shook his head. Once the door closed behind her, he said to Eli and Ria, “That woman does not get paid enough. I’m heading back to the office if Lightman needs me. Keep me posted, okay?”

Eli nodded and saw Ria do the same. Yawning, he said, “I’m going to get some coffee. You want anything?”

Ria shook her head. “Think I’ll watch the tape a few more times.”

Eli muttered, “Have fun,” and left the viewing room.

The office was deserted at almost eleven at night. He saw the light coming under Lightman’s door and heard the man talking, his voice loud but indistinct. Gillian’s response was quiet, just barely audible and sounded soothing. Eli grinned a bit, wondering how much fun it would be to soothe the wounded ego of one Cal Lightman. Zero, he was sure.

His smile faded as he thought about what Jack had said at dinner. Walking the short distance to the exit, he jogged down the stairwell, lost in thought. Eli knew that he had strong feelings for Lightman, he’d never kidded himself about that, but love? It seemed…far-fetched, at best.

Though, he supposed, maybe to an outsider it might look that way. Why else would I still be at a job where a boss not only demeans me regularly, but took away my pay?

A lot of people might figure that only love could explain away such a self-destructive behavior. But then, a lot of people didn’t know what it was like to work for the best. Lightman could be insane, aggressive, overbearing, and a complete prick, but he knew everything there was to know about their field. He was, quite literally, one of the founding fathers of the specialty. To learn at his side, or hell, even at his feet if necessary, was all Eli wanted.

But have you been learning? How long has it been since he did or said anything you didn’t know already yourself? an insidious voice whispered inside. Is it learning just to be on his team and have him whittle you down time after time, or is that just being a whipping boy to his tortured genius?

Eli pushed the front door open with more force than necessary, trying to escape that voice. The door almost ricocheted back in his face, but he jumped out of the way just in time. Rolling his eyes at himself, Eli walked down the block to the all-night Starbucks. He would bring everyone back something, he decided, looking in the display case.

Hands full of a bag of pastries and a tray of coffees, Eli got all the way back before realizing he didn’t have a hand free for the door. Nor his badge to open it if he did. Groaning, he set the bag down since it would be easier to pick up again, and pulled out his cell which was in his pocket, thankfully.

Ria answered on the second ring with, “Did you decide to go home?”

He made a face she couldn’t see and retorted, “Very funny. I went to Starbucks. Let me in? My badge is up there somewhere.”

She laughed softly and said, “Hang on, gimme a minute,” and then hung up.

Eli put away his phone and grabbed the door when it buzzed a few seconds later. He pulled it open and then bent down to pick up the bag when someone shoved him hard into the wall. His head connected painfully with the rough stone façade and the world spun dizzily as his attacker grabbed him around the waist and shoved him through the open door to the lobby floor.

He vaguely wondered where Mike the Security Guy was from where he was sprawled, only a few feet from the front desk. Before he could regain his senses, the man grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up, twisting it back hard enough to pinch his skull to his spine. Eli gasped in pain and his fuzzy vision focused on the completely calm face of Agent Kendall.

“Up,” Kendall ordered, pulling.

Eli struggled to get his hands and knees under him and then up to his feet. Once upright, the grip left his hair and a gun appeared. He swayed, but steadied himself on the desk and asked, “What do you want?”

Kendall motioned him towards the elevator with the gun. “Upstairs. Back to your office.”

He couldn’t argue with someone not in their right mind, there was no talking his way out of this one. Eli pressed the call button and, unfortunately, the doors opened right away so he stepped inside. Kendal followed him in, gun trained on his head. Eli swallowed nervously and pressed the button for their floor. The doors closed as he saw Mike come back to his desk, but the angle was such that Mike wouldn’t have seen them, or the gun.

Something dripped onto his hand and Eli looked down to see it was blood. He touched his cheek and his fingers came away bloody. His mind was racing, trying to think of a way out and coming up blank. He swayed a little as dizziness briefly took over and he bumped into the wall. His hip touched something sticking out and he realized that it was the emergency button.

Needing to warn his friends that something was wrong, he staggered a little, holding his head with his hands, and bumped harder into the button. It instantly froze the elevator, the loud ringing slamming into his head almost physically. Eli didn’t have to fake the pained moan as it aggravated his headache into migraine territory.

Kendall shoved him out of the way and pulled the button out. Eli stumbled to the other side of the elevator and, when he looked back up, found the gun about three inches from his face. The barrel looked huge and his throat dried instantly with fear.

“Don’t do that again,” Kendall ordered amiably.

Eli managed to rasp, “I won’t.”

Kendall stepped back and motioned him to stand in front of the doors, so he did. When they opened, Ria was on the other side, waiting with an annoyed frown in place. She opened her mouth and then, whatever she saw on his face…fear, pain, or maybe just the blood on his cheek, caused her yell, “Lightman! Fire in the hole!”

Because after the last time a gunman took someone hostage in the office, they all figured a code word or phrase was a good idea.

Kendall shoved him hard from behind and Eli stumbled right into Ria, who caught him with surprisingly strong embrace. He’d never noticed she had actual muscles under those curves, even though her arms had hinted at it.

“Shit, Loker, you okay?” she asked softly, righting him.

Before he could answer, Kendall called out, “Please come where I can see you, whoever is left in the office. If you aren’t visible within ten seconds, I will shoot one of these people in the leg. And then the other leg. And then the stomach. That’s a very bad way to go.”

Just as Kendall cocked the hammer and aimed it at Eli’s leg way too soon, Lightman and Gillian both came out of his office. Eli hoped that they’d been able to call Ben or hell, even Terell the jerk, to let them know Kendall was there with his gun.

Lightman’s gaze landed on Eli and the intense anger in the hazel eyes almost made him back away. It took a few precious seconds to realize the anger wasn’t direct at him, but rather was for him, for what had happened to him. It sent a strange shiver of something through him.

“Oi! What the bloody fuck do you think you’re doin,’ messin’ my people about like that?” Lightman demanded, stalking forward. “Loker, you’re bleedin’ on my damn floor, go wash up.”

Eli was so conditioned to obey that tone, that he actually moved a couple feet away from Ria before Kendall ordered, “Stay, Mr. Loker, or I’ll shoot you in the back,” and he stopped short.

Lightman’s arms folded over his chest and he repeated, “Well? What do you want? What’s goin’ on here?”

“I’ve been given orders,” Kendall answered.

“What orders?”

“To keep you here.”

“Why? To what purpose?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who gave you the orders?”

“I don’t know.”

Lightman frowned and paused before continuing, “It was the same person ordered you to kidnap Ling, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. No. I don’t…I don’t know,” Kendall replied, finishing with an uncertain tone.

Nodding now, Lightman’s whole approach changed. In a flash, he offered an encouraging smile, his hands opens, his body language reaching out with a soothing, ‘trust me, I’m your only friend’ vibe. As often as Eli had seen the transformation, it still took his breath away. The man really was a chameleon.

Walking forward a few feet, Lightman said, “I think we should talk. That’s what your boss wants, isn’t it? He wants me, not any of these people. They’re nothing, no one. Don’t matter a bit, do they?”

If Kendall hadn’t been so enthralled by Lightman’s voice, Eli might have flinched at the description, even knowing they weren’t anything but a way to get to Kendall. Not wanting to distract, he kept a firm grip on his reactions despite the throbbing in his cheek and head. He counted slowly to thirty in German as Lightman got closer, Kendall’s expression growing more and more confused.

“I don’t think…no, you should, no, stay there, stop!” Kendall finally declared.

Lightman continued to smile, hands out. “Here’s fine. I’ve stopped. Now then. What’s say you and I have a cuppa, yeah? Nice hot cuppa tea fixes everything. Loker, why don’t you go get us both a cuppa tea.”

Eli hesitated, but this time Kendall didn’t seem inclined to stop him so he took a few cautious steps away. There was no warning. One second he was walking towards Lightman and the next fire exploded in his lower back to erupt out of his front. The world swam and next he knew, he was facedown on the floor and shivering with a bitter cold that seemed to come from all over.

Someone turned him over and Lightman was there, only inches from him, intensity ratcheted as high as Eli had ever seen. Sound came and went, not always connecting with the movement of the other man’s mouth. He heard, “Stay with me,” and, “help’s coming,” and, “don’t you die you bastard,” before the world finally went black and took the pain with it.

* * * *

Cal was sure that he had the situation under control. He’d started, just barely sure, but started to break through the conditioning. It was obviously a fast and dirty job, if Kendall was already beginning to unravel with just a few questions. Of course, brainwashing was an uncertain science to begin with and there’d been no real time for whoever it was to do a thorough job with the agent. He hadn’t been on vacation or absent for any real length of time, other than a three-day flu a week ago, just before his assignment to Ling.

Three days was long enough to conquer, but not long enough to hold.

As Eli began walking towards him for the second time, Kendall’s face contorted with an obvious struggle not to fire at him. The man’s personality was trying to come back around the programming. Cal knew in an instant that it wouldn’t be enough, though, and even as he threw up a hand to stop Eli in his place, the gun fired. Blood exploded from Eli’s stomach, some of it splattering over Cal’s hands and the bullet continued its trajectory into the wall behind him. If Eli had been standing in front of either him or Foster instead of between them, one of them would be shot, too.

Torres instantly jumped Kendall, tackling him to the ground; likely her airport training coming to the fore. Cal noticed her subduing the agent with several well-placed punches and even a knee to the groin, but only vaguely. Most of his attention was on Eli, who lay facedown and unmoving on the floor, blood pooling from beneath him.

A soft moan of pain snapped Cal from his shock and he rushed over, dropping to his knees and yanking off his shirt to wad up against the back of the wound. He heard Gillian on the phone calling for an ambulance as he rolled Eli onto his back. The lad’s brown eyes were open, but unfocused until Cal snapped fingers directly in front of his face. They turned to him them, filled with pain and shock, everything he’d tried so hard to keep Eli from all these years.

Cal yanked off his undershirt to press against the exit wound, both hands now soaking with blood, and leaned in close to order in a hard voice, “Stay with me, Loker, y’here me? Foster’s called an ambulance, help’s coming, you just need to stay awake. Don’t you die you bastard, understand? Eli? Eli! God fuckin’ damn it!”

Gillian’s hand gripped his shoulder and she said, “Two minutes out,” before kneeling beside him. One of her hands reached under Eli and the other covered Cal’s, helping put pressure on the wounds.

It seemed like an eternity before help finally arrived. The EMTs pushed him and Gillian unceremoniously out of the way and began working on Eli.

Cal stood there, helpless, and knew there was nothing he could do. Eli would live or die and there was absolutely nothing he could do. As usually happened in that kind of situation, anger came to his rescue. He closed his eyes briefly and let it come, let it fill him until all he had was hate for the person who’d set all this in motion, on top of the fury at himself for thinking a few minutes could break through three days of brainwashing.

“Cal, whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t,” Gillian ordered, gripping his hand hard.

She knew him well. Cal opened his eyes and gave her a feral grin. “Let’s just see who’s pullin’ the strings, yeah?”

Gillian warned, “Don’t! Cal, Eli needs you with him.”

Cal glanced over at where the EMTs were loading Eli onto a gurney. The lad’s eyes were open and his mouth moving, though he couldn’t read what he was saying from this angle. Tamping down the hate and rage for a moment, just a moment, Cal strode over and bent close again, making eye contact. Eli’s breathing was shallow and rapid, but he kept whispering, “Sorry, so sorry, Lightman,” which just about broke Cal’s heart.

Gripping Eli’s chin tight, knowing there were only a few precious seconds, Cal commanded him, “Don’t you dare fuckin’ die on me, Eli, understand? You’re mine, lad, and I don’t let go of what’s mine. You’ve nothing to apologize for, nothing, this is on me. Let these boys fix you right up and I’ll be there when you wake, okay?”

Eli licked at his lips, blinking quickly a few times as if to focus on him. He whispered in a surprised tone, “I think, I think I love you, Lightman.”

And then, of course, the bastard passed right out again.

“Sir, we really need to go,” one of the EMTs ordered rather than requested.

They were already moving, so he jumped out of the way not to get run over. Cal watched them go, his chest tight for an entirely different reason now. Everything in him wanted to go, to sit with Eli in the ambulance and hold the lad’s hand, to promise that he was fine and it would all turn out all right. But he didn’t, because he wasn’t and it just might not. Eli could die. Cal forced himself to acknowledge that and then let the rage come again.

Completely focused, laser hot wrath dancing beneath the surface of his skin, Cal turned to where Torres had Kendall bound with electric cords ripped from one of the decorative lamps. He gave her an approving look and said, “Toss the fucker in a room. I want some time with him now.”

A viciously pleased expression surfaced at that, Torres’ blood obviously up and out for vengeance. She half-pushed, half-dragged Kendall to the nearest interrogation room and then shoved him into a chair.

There wouldn’t be a long time before the puppet-master was up and gone and Cal had no intention of letting whoever it was escape. He looked at Torres and said, “Off with the lights,” and switched on the small table lamp. Kendall just stared into space as if Torres hadn’t just beaten the crap out of him. Cal knew that he’d retreated into his mind, was possibly trapped there due to programming.

Standing beside the man, Cal pulled a pen out of his pocket and trailed it slowly back and forth in front of Kendall’s face. The eyes remained on a fixed point instead of following it. Cal untied the agent, ignoring Torres’ protest and then set the man’s arms on the table in front of him.

Taking a light hold of a wrist, right at the pulse point, he said softly, in a soothing voice, “You’re back home at the end of a long day. You’re tired, really, really, tired, and you’re going to bed. Forget supper, forget doing anything else, it’s just time to stretch out. Feel the pillow under your head? It’s soft, isn’t it? Comfortable, familiar. Your eyes close and you drift in that space just before sleep. You’re drifting there right now in your comfortable, safe bed and your eyes are closing.”

He kept up the chatter in that same, soft, monotone. Using hypnosis to break through brainwashing was a bit like tossing a pebble at a cop in full riot gear, but they didn’t have time for anything else. Besides which, Kendall had already shown himself struggling to get free. If Cal could relax him to a point where suggestion worked, that might prove the trick to helping the man help himself. The key would be to ask questions the programming didn’t prevent him from answering.

Finally, Kendall’s eyes closed and he let out a long, slow sigh, head drooping until his chin touched his chest.

“Agent Kendall, can you hear me?” Cal questioned.

There were a few seconds and then the man replied sleepily, “Yes.”

Cal let out his own sigh, his of silent relief, and continued, “Good. I want you to know that you’re safe right now. Nothing and no one can hurt you. Do you believe me?”

“Yes.”

No hesitation that time, thank God. Cal asked, “Do you remember who took you from your family last week?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me their name?”

“No.”

“Man or woman?”

“Man.”

“What did he look like?”

“Six one, blond, forties, blue eyes.”

“American?”

“Yes.”

Cal frowned at that and then prompted, “Where were you held, Agent Kendall?”

“Warehouse.”

“Which warehouse?”

“I don’t know.”

Cal thought for a moment. “Were there any noises? Outside noises you could hear?”

“Seagulls. And sometimes an air horn.”

Inspiration struck and he asked, “How long did it take to get from your house to the warehouse.”

“Didn’t take me from my house.”

“Where’d he take you from?”

“Starbuck’s on Wilson. I was on my way home.”

“How long did it take to go from there to the warehouse?”

A frown crossed the agent’s face and he answered, “I, I’m not sure. I was out of it for part of the trip. I think…I heard a church bell striking seven a few minutes before we got to the warehouse.”

“What time did they take you?”

“I don’t know.”

That was all right, though. Looking at Torres, he ordered, “Find out and get Reynolds all this information.”

Ben’s voice came over the speakers with, “Already on it, Lightman.”

Ria relaxed back against the wall she’d just pushed off from.

With any luck, Ben would be able to extrapolate the location of the warehouse Kendall had been held in. And they had a description of the man behind everything. Or do we, he wondered. The man who’d taken and abused Kendall might have been hired. Aloud, he questioned, “Agent Kendall, was the man who kidnapped you the same who ordered Ling to be taken?”

The struggle returned to the agent’s face, sweat breaking out on his forehead, a frown marring his otherwise unremarkable face. Cal felt bad for the poor sod, but he needed information and Kendall was their only link. He’d probably never had a bad thing happen to him in his life and now he was facing years of therapy, if not lifelong therapy, to get over what was done to him. And Cal pushing wasn’t going to help that recovery, but payback was burning in his heart and he needed more information.

Cal tightened his grip on Kendall’s wrist and repeated, “Was the man who kidnapped you, the same man who ordered Ling’s kidnapping?”

“I…I can’t say,” Kendall finally gasped.

“Who ordered Ling’s kidnapping?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. Who ordered Ling’s kidnapping?”

“I don’t know!”

“Yeah, you do! Answer me, Agent Kendall! Who ordered Ling’s kidnapping?”

Kendall’s face twisted into a rictus of pain, mouth open and eyes clenched shut.

“Cal, that’s enough, back off or you might trigger a physical reaction,” Foster ordered from the other room.

Hissing in anger, Cal loosened his grip again. He forced that soothing tone back to his voice as he talked Kendall back down to a calm state.

“We got it Lightman,” Ben’s voice announced. “We know where they kept him.”

Cal immediately strode from the room, meeting the black man in the hall outside.

“Between the church, the boats, and the length of time, we know where they held him,” Ben said.

Nodding impatiently, Cal replied, “Great, let’s go.”

Ben shook his head. “Hell no. You’re staying here, you’re going home, or you’re going to the hospital to check on Loker. Those are your only options right now. I’ve also got a couple agents outside your house looking after Emily, just in case all of this isn’t really about a missing, defecting scientist.”

Cal’s mouth clicked shut audibly at that suggestion, which had never occurred to him. Of course. It stood to reason that if some nutjob with an IQ and a penchant for game playing wanted to kill him, this was the perfect way to do it. These days he was the Bureau’s go-to-guy for this kind of thing, after all, and that was common knowledge.

“You’re all getting escorts until we figure this thing out and don’t even think of trying to lose them,” Ben finished, leveling a glare at Cal.

Cal held up his hands in surrender and then pointed out, “Wouldn’t it be safer if I was with you among all those armed FBI agents? Not to mention, you could keep an eye on me yourself.”

Ben’s dark gaze narrowed at him, telling him that he knew exactly what Cal was up to. After a moment, though, the man admitted, “That’s not a bad idea. I might handcuff you to the car door when we get there, though, so keep that in mind before coming with.”

It was six of one, half-dozen of the other if Ben would go through with it, but he was definitely thinking about it, Cal saw it right in his eyes.

“Cal, come with me to the hospital,” Gillian urged softly. “Eli’s still in surgery, but we should be there, not chasing after someone who might not even be at that location.”

Cal looked down at his hands, stained with Eli’s dried blood, and knew there was no way he could sit still without going mad. Shaking his head, he told her, “Call me with news. C’mon, Reynolds, time to earn your pay. Got any wipes?”

Reynolds scowled at him, but only said, “You have thirty seconds. Go clean up.”

He jogged to his office and the bathroom inside it, scrubbing his hands without looking at his reflection. The sink ran red and then the water washed the blood away, leaving the porcelain clean, as if Eli’s blood hadn’t just been on it. He grabbed a sweater from the closet on his way out, along with his jacket, and pulled it on, on the way.

“Forty-five seconds,” Ben complained, already walking to the elevator.

Cal walked backwards, avoiding the smeared pool of blood in the middle, and reminded Foster, “Call me with news!”

She scowled at him, as much of a scowl as her delicate face ever got at least, and ordered, “Stay safe! And stay in the car!”

Just to be annoying, Cal called as the elevator doors opened, “Torres, you coming?”

The other woman bolted down the hall and jumped onto the lift at the last second, just before the doors closed again. She grinned at Cal and said, “Thanks.”

Reynolds glared at them both.

* * * *

Set at the back end of Annapolis, the warehouse stretched over a portion of the docks on its own. It wasn’t the only one in the immediate area, but the most likely target. Two stories and dilapidated, the company that owned it was in receivership and not even a barely paid security guard roamed the premises. It was the perfect place for someone to set up shop on an illegal brainwashing and kidnapping operation. Or, possibly, a brainwashing and murder operation, depending.

The caravan of SUVs rolled to a stop off the road, just before the gates and Cal hopped out, joining Ben in front of the vehicle with Torres right behind him. The other agents gathered quickly and Ben said, just loud enough to carry to those present, “We don’t know what kind of situation we’ve got in regards to hostages or hostiles, so we’re going in silent. It’s a basic, open floor plan so there aren’t any walls or rooms to get in the way or search. Three exits. I want Teams Alpha and Bravo covering the north and west while Gamma comes with me on the south side. We go in on my mark and we do it silent, understood? Comms are for problems and locations only. Got it? Good. Let’s go.”

Cal started to walk forward when Ben took out a pair of handcuffs and held them up, putting his hand in the middle of Cal’s chest to stop him. The black man handed the cuffs to Torres and told her, “Cuff him to the door if he tries to go down there before I give the all clear.”

Torres took the cuffs with a smirk that told Cal she’d do it and have fun. He scowled and snapped at Ben, “Well go on then! Your men are waitin.’”

It was all over inside of ten minutes. He heard almost nothing over the comms, which was a good sign; no gunfire and no shouting. And then Ben’s voice said, “All right, Lightman, get your ass down here and ID this guy, will you?”

Cal jogged down the potholed road to the warehouse, Torres right beside him. Inside, the metal structure had only a few lights oleftn and he found agents surrounding a skinny, short Asian man, Ling, and a blond man in jeans and polo shirt. He was handsome and had the posture and teeth of someone with education and money. The blue eyes were direct and his expression mocking, the lips just faintly twisted to the side.

Shaking his head, Cal said, “Never seen the blighter before in my life. Torres?”

“I got nothing,” she agreed.

Ben shrugged and said, “The guy asked for you by name.”

Cal’s eyebrows lifted in surprise and he asked the man, “And what’s your name, then?”

The expression didn’t change as he answered, “Franklin Paul St. George.”

Cal smirked a bit. “Now there’s a killer’s name if ever I heard one. You are, aren’t you? You’ve killed. I can see it in your eyes. You’ve got that look. This isn’t your first go, it’s just the first time you’ve been caught.”

“I’m invoking my fifth amendment,” St. George replied coolly. “I will say, though, that you’re just as much a challenge as I thought you’d be. Actually, you exceeded my expectations. I didn’t think you’d break Kendall for at least another two days, maybe three.”

Ben hauled St. George to his feet and said, “Thank you very much for that confession. Let’s go, dickwad.”

St. George met Cal’s gaze again and he smiled. “I’ll see you again, Dr. Lightman. I look forward to it.”

As Ben led the man off, Torres muttered, “Okay, that wasn’t creepy at all.”

Cal huffed in amusement. “Yeah, I know. I always attract the crazy ones. Foster’s gonna love this. C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

* * * *

Eli woke slower than he could ever remember doing before. He couldn’t feel anything, not pain, not his body, not even his eyelids, which was why it took a long time to figure out how to open them. He blinked away the crud and found a plain white ceiling in his line of sight. Frowning, he turned his head in one direction to see a lot of equipment beeping and blinking and a window with bright blue sky beyond.

Hospital, he realized. And then he remembered Kendall shooting him in the back and thought, Just like he said he would. Stupid, thinking he would go against the programming so soon. Wonder if I get workman’s comp for this?

Turning his head the other way caused his frown to deepen; Jack sat in a chair beside the bed. He was sleeping, his jaw slack, and a tiny bit of drool had gathered at the corner of his mouth. His clothes were not only casual, but rumpled, too. Eli smiled a little at the very not-smooth sight. He cleared his throat, which caused Jack to jolt upright.

The other man clapped a hand to his neck and groaned. Then he rubbed his eyes, smiled broadly at him and shifted to sit on the edge of the bed. He took Eli’s hand and said, “Hope you don’t mind. The docs said I could stick around and keep an eye on you.”

“How’d…” Eli cleared his throat again.

Jack interrupted, “Wait, let me get you something to drink. You’ve been out of it for a couple of days and had a tube down your throat.”

Eli blinked in shock. He’d been on a ventilator? Just how much damage had Kendall inflicted?

Jack poured water and brought the cup so Eli could drink. The cold water felt incredible to his battered throat and he drank it gratefully. Jack guessed, “How’d I know you were here? Gillian called me when you were in surgery. She didn’t know if we were a fly-by-night or not, but wanted to let me know, just in case we weren’t.”

Another shock, because the implication was that they weren’t since Jack was still here a couple days later. Of course, he’d known that Jack liked him, he’d been very up front about it at dinner, but still. A bedside vigil? It seemed really early in the relationship for something like that.

“You know, working somewhere with a code phrase for a hostage situation? Not really a wise career choice in my humble opinion,” Jack chided gently, smiling.

Eli quirked a grin at him and whispered, “I was thinking that.”

Jack squeezed his hand. “How do you feel?”

“Completely numb,” Eli admitted.

“Good. Let me get the doctor. Don’t go anywhere now.”

Eli rolled his eyes at the bad humor attempt, but his mouth curved into a smile as Jack left. The smile faded as he thought about the fact that Lightman hadn’t been there when he woke up. There was something unreasonable inside that insisted he should have been. Of course he wouldn’t be. It wasn’t like they were even really friends.

“Oi! What’s your problem? Did you get shot or somethin?’”

Eli jumped a little at the brash words and couldn’t help the instant grin that surfaced on seeing Lightman stroll into the room. The other man was in jeans and a light sweater that fit snug around him. His eyes were bright, the green standing out more than the brown as he walked closer, and he was scruffier than usual. All of which looks damn good on him, a tiny voice inside noted. Eli ignored the voice in favor of listening to the man before him.

“I leave for ten measly minutes to grab a coffee and take a piss and you choose then to wake up? Cheeky bugger,” Lightman continued, grinning. “Where’s sleeping beauty?”

Jack walked in with a tiny Asian woman and said dryly, “Right behind you.”

Smiling at Eli, the Asian woman walked to the bed and took his hand, fingers resting lightly on his pulse as she greeted, “Good morning, Mr. Loker. I’m Dr. Pau. How are you feeling?”

“Not much at all,” Eli answered in a whisper. “But I don’t feel high, either.”

She winked at him and said, “New drug therapy that dulls the pain without the added loopy side effects. Reviews are fifty-fifty so far. What do you think?”

Eli smiled back at her, unable not to as her good cheer was infectious, and rasped, “I like it. Hate not being able to think properly.”

Nodding, Dr. Pau agreed, “Me too.”

“So you do a lot of drugs then, do you?” Lightman interjected.

Not offended in the slightest, Dr. Pau grinned at him and then started examining Eli as she said, “Long story short, Mr. Loker, you’ve lost your appendix completely and a bit of your lung. Most of the bullet exited cleanly, but a bit of pong went on inside you first. We had to re-inflate your lung and put you on a respirator for a day or so. Kept you under, too, since I didn’t want you messing up all my hard work by taking out the tube. You’re going to be here for a few more days, at least, so I would tell your boss here that you’re going to need some sick time.”

Lightman smirked a bit. “Might could be arranged.”

The doctor wagged a finger at Jack and Lightman in turn and admonished, “I’m going to let the two of you stay during regular visiting hours, but after that, you’re gone. I mean it. I’m going to sic Betty on you if you’re here after that.”

Both men grimaced at that, so Eli could only imagine what this Betty might be like. He hoped she wasn’t his regular nurse.

Dr. Pau patted Eli on the hand and said, “You’re going to be fine, honey. Ignore them both and rest up now, okay?”

Eli nodded and whispered, “Thanks.”

There was a short, silent tableau after Dr. Pau left and Eli was suddenly hit with the thought that they were waiting for him to choose who got to stay. Just as his eyes widened in horror at the notion, Lightman announced, “Well, now that you’re practically on your way home, I’m off. Things to see, people to run. Take care of the lad, Jack.”

There was something…off…about that last part, but Eli wasn’t on top of things enough to understand what.

Jack apparently did, though, because he nodded and agreed firmly, “Oh, I will. See you later, Cal.”

“God, I hope not,” Lightman retorted. He looked at Eli for a moment, his expression utterly unreadable, and then gave a soft, half-smile before saying, “Get better, Eli,” and leaving.

Astonished, he couldn’t remember the last time Lightman had used his first name, Christmas maybe, Eli couldn’t think of anything to say before he was gone.

And then Jack sat on the bed and took his hand again, saying, “As third dates go, this is definitely my most memorable. How about you?”

Eli’s gaze dragged from the empty doorway to Jack’s hopeful expression. Even though he knew he’d just missed something important, he was abruptly too tired to figure out what. He smiled and said through a yawn, “Definitely.”

He fell asleep to the gentle caress of Jack’s thumb over the back of his hand.