NOTES AND DISCLAIMERS: All made up, completely fictional. Research of sort from reading Chris Rogers's book, Bitch Factor. Many legal things slightly off for fictional purposes. Thanks to Nikki (gig 'em, Aggies!), kel, Missy, Younger and Katie.

FOUR TIES

Justin was going over paperwork when Lance just walked right into his office. It wasn't very much of an office to walk into, barely bigger than a closet. Justin was pretty sure it had been a closet until two months before but he tried not to think about it.

Lance wore khakis, a button down shirt, and a leather jacket. He walked in without knocking, closed the door behind him and sunk down in the crappy chair in front of Justin's desk. He said, "Hi, how are you?" like he'd known Justin for years.

Justin blinked. "Hello. Can I help you?"

"Yes." Lance grinned and leaned forward. "I'm Lance Bass, I work for Schroeder Bonding Company and I wanted to talk to you about Chris Kirkpatrick."

Justin nodded and focused on his desk and his papers. No eye contact, that was the best way to avoid questions. Avoiding questions about Chris Kirkpatrick had been Justin's MO for the last five years. "He skipped bail, you're a bounty hunter." Justin put on his charming face, or tried, and braced himself. Get it over with, he thought.

"I'm looking for Chris and your name came up elsewheres." Lance smiled again. It might have been a nice smile in other circumstances but for these questions, Justin just stared. Lance said, "People said you were friends. With Chris Kirkpatrick."

"In college. I haven't talked to him in five, six years. It's not, really, I don't know anything and it's hardly important." Justin stood up. "Can we talk about this somewhere else?"

"I'll buy you a beer?" Lance stood up and stuck his hands in his back pockets. Another charming smile that Justin ignored.

Justin sighed. "Fine."

They went to a bar near Justin's apartment, away from the courthouse and downtown. Justin gave Lance directions and drove straight there.

Lance got there first and he'd already grabbed a booth. Justin sat down and looked at the two beers in front of Lance. Justin said, "You're real thirsty, huh?"

"I got one for you." Lance pushed it across the table. "So, okay, fine, you were friends with him, though. You were friends with him back in the day before he turned to his life of crime and hooked up with Chasez."

Justin sipped his beer. It wasn't what he would have ordered at all. "No. No, I mean, I knew him when he met JC, but we lost touch right after that. I'm not going to be able to help you at all." Justin kept looking at his beer. He wasn't very interested in going on with this discussion.

"Well, it's worth a try. I've talked to a lot of people." Lance leaned back in the booth and put his arm up along the back of booth, the picture of relaxed nonchalance. "That's what we do, you know, just like you, we talk to a lot of people."

"There's no point in talking to me." Justin drank more of his beer.

"But you hustled me out of your office like no tomorrow. You didn't tell your boss you knew Kirkpatrick when you got assigned the case?"

"Because it didn't matter. We were friends for a year, more than five years ago. It's not something I would recuse myself over. And I can't help you find him now or JC, either."

Lance shrugged. "Worth a try." Justin put down a twenty for the two drinks and a tip and waved goodbye as he walked out.

Justin had introduced JC to Chris, or close enough. It wasn't something he thought about much, and no one had ever asked him about it before. He didn't like thinking about it. Not that the smug little bounty hunter with the charming smile had really asked.

Once upon a time Chris had been the hottest bartender on Sixth Street, at least in Justin's opinion. They'd slept together and talked about their futures and ate peanut butter and ramen more than seemed right.

Chris wore faded jeans with a wallet chain that he made look cool, just by the way he stood. Justin tried it once, he just looked stupid. He was pretty sure he'd looked stupid that night at the bar and most of his freshman year. JC had laughed at him sometimes, Chris just smirked. But they'd both hung out with him, separately until he'd made the mistake of introducing them. They both made him cool or brought it out of him. JC had been a really good friend and Chris had been a really good boyfriend, Justin's first.

Justin and Chris the couple burnt out, too much time together, too many discussions about the rest of their lives that ended with Justin talking about law school and Chris talking about becoming a prostitute to cover his debts, to make money quick. Justin would talk about working hard and shit like that and Chris would tell stories about bosses that screwed over his mom and the way his family had been treated like shit while they were on welfare. It made Justin sad, his complete inadequacy. He would have done anything for Chris but nothing he could do would make a difference.

Things got better for Chris after he and Justin broke up, just one winning lottery ticket. Chris had waved it at Justin, laughing, "shit, it's only twenty thousand dollars and I'll still take it!" Then Chris met a girl, he was engaged, he had seed money, things looked good.

Justin introduced Chris to JC and everything since, really, Justin blamed JC. He remembered JC sitting next to Chris at a bar, both of them smoking and JC's narrowed eyes. "My boss, man, he doesn't deserve a cent he's got." JC had taken a drag on his cigarette and said, "He acts like he's your dad and he picks your pocket, he takes all the profit from our work and he does shit. Doesn't even give us health insurance."

Chris had said, "People like that, man, deserve to be robbed. Deserve it."

Justin hadn't thought it was an omen. But he hadn't agreed and then Chris and JC stopped hanging out at the bars Justin went to. He'd stopped by Chris's shop before it went under, but Chris had been quiet and sad and Justin had nothing to offer him again. Maybe he should have tried harder, maybe he should have argued with the two of them back in that bar about people who didn't deserve their money.

It had been five years now, one robbery they'd been caught for and gotten off, another ten that the police suspected them of and couldn't prove and now this past one, three months ago where the cops finally had a case. He hadn't seen them when they'd been brought in but he'd heard all about it after they jumped bail. Everyone was looking for them, not just chipper bounty hunters.

Justin shook his head and tried to stop thinking about it again. He was jogging, still tired from yesterday's twelve hour day and then that stupid bounty hunter and the crappy beer and he'd come home and gotten no sleep. Still tired. But jogging would wake him up and Justin had read somewhere about how exercise sharpened the mind and aided concentration so he ran every other day and had two gym memberships.

Except he wasn't focused at all, he was thinking about Chris grinning and eating dinner at his mother's house and stupid things like that. Nothing that would help with two appearances in court today and arguments and papers to file. He heard a car swerve behind him and he didn't look back. Really, in retrospect, that was his biggest mistake.

Then there was a bright white pain in his neck and his head and everything went black.

Justin blinked and he was looking at gray. Gray, the top of a car. He was in the backseat, lying down and he tried to move, sit up. His hands were tied with tape and when he tried to say something, his lips hurt, he was gagged. Fuck, fuck, he'd missed court. He tried to scream and kicked his legs against the driver's seat.

A bearded guy with a bright smile looked over from the passenger's seat and said, "Hey, he's awake. Hi!" He waved.

Lance was in the driver's seat and he briefly looked back and then said, "Hey. Joey, man, you should have untied him and taken off that gag. Seriously."

"We were in a rush," Joey said, still smiling. Great, the happiest bounty hunters in the fucking world had kidnapped him, Justin thought. Had fucking kidnapped him. Justin was going to nail their asses as soon as he got out of this. His head hurt and he could feel bruises on his legs and arms as he started to come to completely. How was this legal? How did anyone keep their jobs when they did shit like this?

Joey reached over and ripped off the gag. It hurt like a motherfucker. Justin licked his lips and tasted blood. He said, "You fucking kidnapped me. I'm gonna have you arrested, and I'm gonna --"

"We didn't kidnap you, we saved you." Lance said it like it should have been obvious, like he was insulted that Justin might be upset.

Joey pulled out a wicked looking knife and started hacking at the tape around Justin's hands. Justin tried to hold still but Joey was being very precise and the knife never even nicked Justin's wrists. Justin said, "Oh, you saved me? From whom?"

"Mark Carlson. We have it on tape. Do you remember him?" Justin wanted to kill Lance for his easy conversational tone. La, la, la, kidnapping Justin, driving like a maniac, all a day's work. And Lance was driving like a maniac, Justin could see cars flying by, hear the squeal of brakes from outside.

"You have it on tape?" Justin's hands were finally free and he sat up, looked around. They were flying down a highway. Thank god, Lance and Joey were certain to get a ticket and then Justin would be free.

"Yeah. I mean, maybe we should have dropped you off at the hospital or something, but you seemed okay. Like, out cold, but okay. See, Mark Carlson, a few weeks ago? You were one of the people who prosecuted him, even though you were the junior guy. Maybe you don't remember. He beat his wife?"

Justin refused to answer. He did remember Mark Carlson now, an ugly, mean motherfucker. But Justin had just been sitting at the table, doing the scutwork.

"Anyway, so he figured out where you lived, and after he jumped bail, he went after you. I guess he couldn't find the other guy. He's not, like, smart or anything. So we're following him and he goes to your neighborhood, and while we're taping him, he grabs you and beats you up and then throws you in the back of his car."

"So you called the cops, of course." Justin licked his lips again and wished for lip balm and some water. He assumed the happy bounty hunters had neither.

"Well." Joey glanced at Lance. "I mean, we did, eventually. We want to get this guy. So, see, we followed him. First. And then he tried to throw you out of the car, but he's so stupid. He actually pulled over to do it. So we pulled over and got you and called the cops, but they were taking forever and now we're following him. I mean, I see your point, man, I do. We should have waited. But we didn't want him to get away."

"Yeah, I think it might have been nice to take me to a hospital. Why should I believe a word you say?"

Lance snorted. "You seem fine. We have a bad guy to catch." Joey passed back a digital camera and pressed play. Justin watched the story play out pretty much as they said, complete with Joey and Lance making remarks about how dumb Carlson was and little "yeah, yeahs! We're gonna get 'em." Fucking overgrown adrenaline junkies. Justin sighed.

"So can you let me off soon?"

Lance said, "Right after we get Carlson."

Justin closed his eyes and put on his seat belt. He was still wearing his jogging clothes and when he opened his eyes, he could see the bruises blooming on his legs.

Johnny said, "You need to take tomorrow off."

Justin looked up from bed in the examining room. "Why? They're releasing me in two hours. I don't even have a concussion. My neck's a little sore, but otherwise, really fine." He'd gotten to the hospital four hours ago, after Joey and Lance had rammed their car into Carlson's and apprehended their fugitive. The cops had come ten minutes later and one of them had taken the digital camera and another had driven Justin to the hospital. But he was mostly fine.

Johnny shook his head. "You got kidnapped and beaten up. I don't want you keeling over from stress. Take a day off, work a half-day on Thursday and Friday. Back on Monday." Johnny smiled. He was a pretty nice DA, Justin thought, a pretty good boss. Justin was also pretty sure that he was getting forced leave because of that girl DA who'd sued after being mugged in the courthouse.

"I'm taking you off the Kirkpatrick case, too."

Justin pressed his lips together. His first really big case and now he was off. He wondered if Johnny had heard that he knew Chris. Johnny said, "It's not personal, it's just you're missing a few days. You can have the next one, trust me. I'll file all the shit we need to do, you just rest and relax. Lay off the jogging for a while." Johnny grinned and patted Justin's shoulder. Justin said sure and thank you and good bye.

Another two hours with the cops about the things he remembered about Carlson, which were mostly embarrassing. When he got home, there was a note from his roommate about spending the week at his girlfriend's beach house in Galveston and no food in the refrigerator. Justin sat on the couch and watched Law and Order reruns for three straight hours. His head hurt.

Justin had had three hours of sleep. His head hurt still and he'd hit his bruised calf against his foot and the pain woke him up. He checked his messages and there was one from Chris's mother. He rubbed his forehead and listened again. "Justin, this is Bev. Bev Eustice? I wanted to talk to you. Can you come by today for lunch?"

Justin called her back and said he'd be there around noon. He couldn't refuse Bev. He put on his third best suit and tie and put his second best tie in his messenger bag. Always be prepared.

Bev's house looked about the same as five years ago. Neat and tidy, lived in, one more generic house in one of the eight hundred developments outside the inner loop of Houston. Justin parked his car on the street which looked pretty occupied for noon on a Wednesday. He wondered if it was some holiday he didn't know about; it wasn't like people ever carpooled or took public transportation.

Bev made him lemonade and made him sit on the comfy couch. She said, "It's always good to see you, Justin, it's been a while."

Justin nodded. "Yeah, I'm sorry. But with Chris --"

She nodded, too. "I know. I wanted, look, you're with the DA now, I want you to make sure everyone understands, I've never taken money from Chris. Not since I knew what he was doing. And, frankly, even a little before that because I just knew anyway. I could tell. He was a good kid." She sniffed and took a sip of her lemonade. "I got all this from my work, not from his stealing."

"I know." Justin held his glass tight, afraid to drop it. It was slick with sweat from the glass and his hands. "I know that."

"But I want you to tell them. They'll believe you more than me."

"They believe you. I was, I was on the case, um, until yesterday. Nobody thought you were involved or harboring him or anything."

She pressed her lips together and got up. She took his glass from his hands and walked around the room. Then she said, "I don't, I don't think I could call the police on him if I knew where he was, but I've never taken his money. And he doesn't tell me where he is, you know? So I haven't had to test that." She sighed and went into the kitchen. She came back with empty hands.

Justin stood up and said, "I will tell them again. Don't worry about it."

"All I do is worry. He was a really good kid." She walked him to the door.

Justin just nodded and hugged Bev as he walked out. He was walking down the stone path to the street when he heard someone yell "DUCK!" Justin fell straight to the ground as the first shot rang out.

He'd scratched his fucking head again, on the edge of the stone set in the lawn. His arm, too. Ruined his suit. Fuck, fuck. He heard two more shots and then someone laughing. JC, he thought, but that couldn't be right. Justin started to crawl along the lawn, looking straight ahead and not to the side. He didn't want to know. Then someone grabbed his leg and another shot rang out. Justin looked over his shoulder and it was stupid ass Lance, pulling him back towards the porch. Lance had a big gun in his hand and he was shooting towards the street. Justin shuddered, put his head down and scrambled backwards toward the porch.

After a minute or two, Joey ran across the lawn and grabbed at Lance's shoulder. "He shot my motherfucking truck. Do you believe that?"

From inside the house, Bev shouted, "Get out of here. Leave! My kids are coming home, you shits!"

Lance called back, "We're going, right now!" Lance put his gun in a shoulder holster and gripped Justin's forearm. He said, "Hey, can we use your car?"

"No." Justin shook off Lance's arm and stalked to his car. "What the hell just happened?"

Joey walked in front of Justin's car while Lance kept looking down the street. Joey said, "We had the house staked out, man. Just to see if Kirkpatrick would come by. And then, as you're walking out, a car pulls up, shots ring out and stupid Chasez shot my damn truck. We should follow them, but we just had the one car."

Lance leaned against Justin's car. "But you don't want to help, that's okay. Maybe instead, we should call the cops. They should come here and talk to Bev and talk to you and ask about why you were here and we'll wait, so we can explain everything while we wait and JC gets away. Probably going straight to Chris and they'll never come back. But we can totally wait. And not keep bothering Mr. Timberlake."

It was stupid, stupid. Really, they'd spotted JC, someone should come and try to apprehend him. It didn't have to be these two losers and it didn't have to be Justin. Except, once JC had talked to Justin for three hours about school and the brilliance of Michael Jackson when Justin had been a freshman in college. Justin wasn't sure how that mattered at all, but once, JC and Chris had been people Justin would have thrown himself in front of a bus for. He almost didn't want the cops to get them. Justin rubbed his forehead. "Oh, god, get in. But I'm driving."

Joey smirked and jumped in the back seat after Lance opened the door for him.

They picked up JC on the highway, or Lance pointed out the car that he swore was JC's. They were far outside of Houston, past The Woodlands. Joey said, "Are they hiding out in fucking Huntsville?"

"They're trying to get used to prison, man." Lance grinned.

"Maybe he's leading us away from where they're hiding." Justin bit his lip. "I'm sure he's spotted us."

"Why?" Lance sounded sly. "Would JC recognize your car?"

"No. But we're, oh, fuck you." Justin had bought this car two years ago; there was no way JC would know it.

JC pulled off and Justin followed, two cars behind them. Then both cars went one way and JC the other so Justin was right behind JC. And it was JC, Justin was close enough to see JC's reflection in his rearview mirror. JC looked good, his hair much longer, his face a little more drawn than when he was twenty-four and just some stoner Chris thought was the most interesting guy in the world and Justin had looked up to. Justin tightened his grip on the wheel.

Then the light turned green and JC put his car reverse. He rammed Justin's car hard and then sped off, turning back to the highway. Justin tried to get his car to go, over Lance and Joey's swearing and the pain in Justin's knees from banging against the car, but it just sputtered. Justin sighed and turned off the car. He put on his hazard lights.

Lance said, "I hit my head. I hit my head, I hate that. Fucker." He rubbed his neck. "Shit, shit."

Justin said, "Fuck off, I hate you." He got out of the car and assessed the damage. It wasn't too bad, really. Maybe the car would start when he got back in. Maybe he'd just walk home from here, miles and miles, and forget the entire day. He looked down at his tie and saw he'd ripped it when he fell on the ground. He was having a shitty week.

Joey said he and Lance would pay for the damage to the car. He also decided they should spend the night in a local hotel and start fresh in the morning. He said he felt like shit, probably whiplash and he was going to sue JC. Justin just nodded a lot and thought about all the dents on his nearly new car. They ended up at a crappy hotel and Joey went straight to his room. Lance said, "Are you hungry? I would love some dinner, man."

Justin nodded again. They went and ordered food. Lance said, "So JC figured out it was you. I wonder if they are hiding out around here, though? Like, maybe, he saw you and that's why he went back to the highway? I still think they're somewhere in the Heights, frankly, maybe right near you."

"Why?" Justin didn't really care. But he wanted to be polite, still, for some reason.

"Because they've stayed there before." Lance smiled. "See, I think I have an advantage over the cops, we have an advantage. They're looking hard, of course, but see, I have this theory."

Justin just raised his eyebrows and ate his chiliburger. It was bad.

"I think JC and Chris aren't just partners, I think they're lovers." Lance nodded and then winced. He rubbed his neck and went back to smiling and talking. "The cops don't take that into account, they keep thinking those two are just friends that hooked up. But I think it's more than that. And you know why I think that?"

"Because you're insane?" Justin pushed his plate away. The fries were soggy and limp. "Chris has an ex-wife." Dani was a sweetheart, Justin thought. He felt guilty just thinking about her.

"Yeah, because there's no way someone would sleep with men and women. Chris has a really nice ex-wife. All the women I've met trying to find Chris are really cool, you know that? Like, his ex-wife, his mom, his sisters. Old friends. All of them. Also, Chris's ex-wife is really hot. And come on, Justin, I've met people who told me about some of his ex-boyfriends as it is. I know he's had boyfriends." Lance stared at Justin for a moment. He said, "And speaking of hot, so's JC."

"So? JC's hot, yes. I guess. If you like guys." Justin kept his eyes on the grease on his plate from his half eaten burger.

"See, okay. So Chris Kirkpatrick is a college drop out who has a clothing store in the Heights that's about to go under, and he ends up hooking up with one of his friends, and the two of them rob the friend's boss. Store goes under anyway, hot wife leaves him and divorces him because he keeps robbing, and this is the cops' theory, see? They're just gonna keep robbing until they get caught because it's their new job. And my theory's different."

"Chris really loved Dani. He wasn't with JC when they started, man." Justin kept pushing at his plate. "When they started robbing people." Justin didn't know for sure, but he knew in his heart that Chris wouldn't have cheated on Dani. He'd seen pictures from their wedding somewhere, Dani's bright grin and Chris's look of surprise, even more than when he won twenty thousand dollars off a scratch off lottery ticket. But he was pretty sure things had happened after the divorce, even if he'd never seen them together. Chris and JC had always had chemistry.

Lance said, "No, he wasn't with JC then. But then Dani gets pissed because Chris gets arrested and she knows he's guilty, even if he does get off that charge and she's like his mom, she won't put up with that. So she divorces him. And he and JC keep on stealing and they fall in love." Lance stared at Justin. Justin wouldn't look away this time and Lance started smiling as he kept going. "See, the cops think JC and Chris are gonna keep doing this. I think they're planning to run away. Or they were, on this last job. That's their plan, they're gonna take all that money they've got that ain't been found and they're gonna run away together. The cops think they're running to somewhere else, I think they're getting ready to leave the country. Go south. No more robbing."

Justin couldn't help himself from smiling back. It wasn't a bad theory as much as Justin was trying to pull it down and Lance had some brains to figure it all out. In two weeks of meetings about prosecuting Chris and JC, no one had put together the clues that the two of them might be involved. Lance kept grinning and Justin wondered if Lance had figured it out because he had a different perspective. Justin looked up at Lance and looked back down. Stupid bright smile even with the busted lip and bruise already formed on his forehead.

Lance had this weird charm, goofy and smiling. He was probably great at the talking and charming part of his job. Girls would fall all over him and guys would smile back to just another good ol' boy. Lance kept smirking.

Lance rubbed his mouth and Justin grabbed his hand. "Oh, shit, I can't believe it. You're an Aggie, aren't you?"

Lance blushed and looked down. "Yup." He looked up and narrowed his eyes. "You went to UT, didn't you?"

Justin sat back and said, "Hook 'em horns, man, I can't believe I'm sitting here eating with you." He laughed. "You knew that, you knew I met Chris at college."

"I didn't know you met him at college, I knew you knew him from Austin. Oh, that's just sad. UT sucks."

"A&M sucks. I bet that helps you though, don't it? Flash your ring to the right people, appeal to the old school charm." Justin laughed again. "You know, JC was totally into that shit, he's not even from Texas, but he would say 'Texas A&M' and spit. He probably hit my car because he saw your ring."

Lance covered his mouth and laughed. "I bet it was because he recognized you."

Justin looked out the window. He wasn't going to tell Lance anything more than he'd already said.

Lance said, "So, what do you think of my theory?"

"I think." He thought Lance had it mostly right. Justin said, "You know, maybe, but how does that mean you'll catch Chris and JC first?"

"Because they're looking for them to go west or north. Stay in Texas. Start robbing somewhere else. I think they're going south. I just don't know why they haven't yet. I thought maybe they were gonna say their goodbyes, so I staked out their moms and their friends."

"What about the bail?" Justin leaned forward. "Who's gonna have to pay their bail when they don't show?"

"Not their moms. Tyler, JC's brother, he paid it. And I think they gave him enough money that he can cover the forfeit. But, frankly, I'd rather catch them so I get the money." Lance smiled again. He was a big smiley man. Not that big, really, shorter than Justin but not too much. He had nice eyes. He had a glint in his eye, and Justin recognized that from back when he let himself look at guys that way.

Justin rubbed his forehead; he had to have hit his head again to be thinking about stupid Lance this way.

"I have plans," Lance said, grinning. He was always grinning. Justin didn't understand how someone so happy and optimistic ended up in such a bleak business.

Justin swallowed and rubbed the cut over his forehead again. It wouldn't scar, hopefully. He said, "Plans?"

"Oh, yeah, you can't be a bounty hunter your whole life. I mean, you could, but that's not, like, a real future. I guess it could be." Lance sipped his coffee and passed Justin a napkin. "But. Me and Joey are gonna do this for a few more years, save up some money and then we're gonna open a self-defense center. Like, security systems and mace and guns, and classes. Self-defense classes for moms and kids, bring in the whole family."

"And guns. One for every toddler." Justin wetted the napkin with the water from his glass and rubbed it over the cut. It came back streaked with red. Justin sighed and took more napkins.

"Man, people would have to take gun safety classes and we'd have a shooting range so families could feel safe about their choices. It's not the guns that are the problem, it's the way people don't know how to use them or take care of them. And there'd be lots of other options. But yeah, we'll be out in the suburbs, maybe Sugarland? Or maybe one closer to downtown, and we'll have these great ads - pictures of me and Joey talking about all the criminals we brought in and how now we can help you feel safe. That's why we use the digital camera all the time, see? So we can have footage of all our work. Security, man, it's such a growth industry."

Lance was nodding his head and his eyes were bright, even smiling around the busted lip from hitting the dashboard. Idiot should have put on his seatbelt. Justin thought for sure he'd been hit on the head too hard now; he actually thought the stupid business idea might work. He could imagine people trusting Joey and Lance. He shifted in his seat.

Lance paid the bill and they went back to their room. He said, "We only got two rooms. Once we catch 'em, we'll be able to afford three, but not so much now." Lance took his gun out of the holster. Lance looked over at Justin and Justin looked back, second big mistake of the week.

Justin fell back on the bed and covered his eyes. "Now what?"

Lance moved on top of him suddenly, the gun still in his hand heavy against Justin's shoulder. He said, "I still, you know, questions. For you." His mouth was slightly open, his tongue against teeth. Justin squirmed.

"Do they, um, do you need the gun?"

Lance blinked and looked at his hand and the gun like he'd forgotten. He blinked again, "Um. No. I just. I thought. Okay, you used to date Chris, right?" Lance shifted and spread Justin's legs.

"I, fuck. Yes, we did. For like, four months, okay? Okay. But I wasn't lying when I said I haven't talked to him in five years. That information doesn't change anything. Also, this is a very unorthodox interrogation." But Justin was still lying there and he thought he needed to stop before this became some stupid bodice-ripper.

"Well, I wasn't asking because of that. I just, I've gotten this, um, vibe?" Lance leaned in and they kissed. It was just like Lance, somehow, enthusiastic and maybe goofy and then Justin thought, hot. Lance pulled back and said, "My lip. Let's try something else."

Lance's hand was in Justin's hair and he brushed the bruise on Justin's head. "Ow."

"Oh, right, sorry." Lance blushed and sat up. His hand trailed down Justin's chest. "Your cut, um, on your arm, it's bleeding again."

Justin closed his eyes. "God, I don't care anymore. Just let me die." He almost laughed at how stupid it all was. So, he'd been right about Lance having a different perspective from most of the cops.

"Oh, you don't mean that. Plus, no one ever died from a little cut. Unless it got all infected and they never treated it or something." Lance made some noise and moved on the bed again. Then Lance was holding Justin's arm and Justin opened his eyes.

"That's my tie." Justin was pretty sure he was whining, but he was beyond giving a fuck. "You took that from my bag."

"Well, we need to put some kind of bandage on here." Lance was concentrating, tying off Justin's $50 tie and it would be stained and Justin just wanted to wake up back in his own bed. He looked away and saw Lance's gun by his head. Big black gun.

Lance patted Justin's arm softly. "Anyway, um." Lance looked down again and blushed. "So you dated Chris and you kissed, um, you sleep with guys?"

"And girls, and Lance, you know where I work. I don't really date guys anymore." Justin shuffled up higher on the bed so Lance wasn't so near his dick.

"That sort of makes sense. Except, you know, it's not, um, people don't have to know. Just don't piss off your neighbors."

"You make it sound so easy." Justin sighed. "It's not like it's keeping me awake at night, I mean, I don't even have time to date, and I have, I'm fucking young and I have forever before I even want to think about settling down so you see --" Then Justin rubbed at his forehead one more time and surged forward to kiss Lance's neck. He liked Lance, he thought, he wished he hadn't had another tie ruined and the motel smelled bad. He pulled Lance closer and tugged at Lance's belt.

Lance almost bounced and pushed Justin back down on the bed. He pushed up Justin's shirt and licked Justin's stomach. It was warm, so fucking warm. Justin pushed his hips up to nothing, nothing and then Lance pushing back. Justin bit his lip and turned his head to the side.

"Ow!" Justin let go of Lance and rubbed his forehead. Tonight's capper was getting hit in the head by Lance's gun while trying to get laid. "I'm gonna move your gun, okay?"

Lance sat up and said, "No, wait, let me put the safety on." Lance reached over and fiddled with the gun, moved it to the end table. "Sorry." He rolled over to Justin's side. "Um, did that just ruin the mood?"

Justin closed his eyes. "Maybe."

Lance put his hand under Justin's belt, under his slacks and flattened his palm against Justin's dick. It felt really good. Justin almost forgot that his head hurt and his arm stung and he'd lost one more tie to this stupid fucking week. Lance said, "I can be, um, more persuasive?"

Justin opened his eyes and nodded. "Yeah."

It was another ten minutes before they were both naked, and Justin almost tore his tie off his arm trying to get his shirt off so Lance took a minute to retie the makeshift bandage. Justin blinked for a minute and felt the heat like an extra layer of skin against his back. Over Lance's shoulder he could see his shirt on the floor, bloodstain by the neck and the ripped sleeve.

Justin rolled onto his back and pulled Lance on top of him. "Let's get to this."

Lance laughed. "Yeah, one more task to be checked off, right?"

"That's not what I meant." Justin hooked his hands behind Lance's neck. "Let's make out a little before I pass out."

Even if all they did was hump, about all Justin had in him, Justin thought it was the best sex he'd had in about two years.

Justin rubbed the back of Lance's neck and said, "That was nice."

Lance said, "Fuck yeah." And then, "Be right back." Lance getting up didn't lighten the heat, there wasn't even movement in the air.

Lance came back and tugged the top sheet over them. "Now we sleep."

Justin woke up when the sun hit his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Seven am!" Lance bounced and sat on the bed. He was already dressed and chipper. Justin decided to go back to hating him.

Lance said, "I have a few more questions for you. About Chris. You and Chris."

"God, why do you care? Yes, we went out. Yes, I'm pretty sure he and JC are a thing. Count that as confirmation." Justin decided to never make out with a guy again. He clearly had horrible taste. Lance had this crazy, charming grin, and he made making out seem like fun even in a crappy motel, but this wasn't Justin's life.

"I know. I know all that. But I want, you know, I've never met Chris. I want to know him better so I can catch him." Lance rubbed Justin's thigh through the sheet. "I want to know."

Justin said, "I met him freshman year at UT. Mine. He was, like, seventh year senior or something, going part-time and working. He dropped out pretty soon after I met him, couldn't afford it. I met him at a bar on Sixth St, he was a bartender."

"Yeah?"

"So he knows how to bartend, there you go." Justin turned over and pried off the bandage on his arm. His poor tie. He threw it out.

"How long after you met him did you start going out?"

Justin sat up. "That night. I mean, it wasn't some random hook up. We talked all night and then we went back to his place and then we talked some more. And then we fucked and then we talked more. It was kinda like that for the next six months."

"You said different last night." Lance got off the bed. "About how many months."

"I didn't count, you know. Anyway, so we broke up, he met Dani, but we were still friends for the next year. God, I don't know, I lie about it a lot now. I actually introduced him to JC." Justin grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom. He thought Lance would follow, but he didn't. Justin took a long hot shower and tried to make sure he'd gotten all the dust and lawn shit and blood off him. He stepped out and started getting dressed.

Lance said, "So, how come Chris could get hot girls like Dani and hot guys like you? And JC? Like, I've seen pictures, he's attractive, but he's not, you know, he's not really hot like you three."

Justin blushed and pulled on his pants. His second best suit now had ripped pants. At least the jacket wasn't ruined. He said, "You've never met Chris. You've just seen pictures. He's, like, he's funny and smart and he's so loyal, like, once you're his, friend or family or whatever, he's yours. He wouldn't let anyone shit on you or anything. He's charming. Like you, but not like your charm."

"You think I'm charming." Lance was grinning ear to ear. He looked really adorable doing that. Justin closed his eyes. No more guys. Probably.

Justin sighed. "Yes. But you're different. You're all, bounce and enthusiasm and come on, this will be fun, and Chris is more, he just radiates cool. You just think that's where I want to be, where he is."

Lance nodded and stopped smiling. "You think I'm wrong that Chris is in charge here? Cause I do, I think JC's an equal partner, but I think Chris is making the decisions."

"JC's a leader, he is. He was a complete stoner when I knew him, but he was still in charge. He probably lets Chris think he's in charge but they don't do anything he doesn't want." The same way JC had always been. Stoned and smiling and he'd nod at things he didn't want to do and then just not do them. And his smile would make anyone think the things he said were a good idea. Justin packed his bag and walked towards the door. "Let's go, okay?"

The car made it back to Justin's mechanic in the Heights. Joey handed over his credit card and patted Justin on the shoulder. "We'll cover it all. Don't worry. No need for insurance or cops."

Lance nodded and smiled. He walked Justin to his cab. "Um, so we're gonna keep working on this thing. I won't tell Joey, except that you confirmed part of my theory." Lance kicked at the dust on the ground. "Can I call you sometime?"

Justin looked at Lance's leather boot and the pattern in the ground. "I don't know."

Lance exhaled and said quickly, "Okay, I'll take that as a yes. I'll call you." He walked off before Justin could say no.

Justin went back to work first thing in the morning. He hadn't gotten much sleep, maybe two hours, but he was ready to work. He had cases still, and papers and filings. He wore his fourth best suit and shined his shoes before he left to make up for it.

Around noon he'd made a real dent in his work and was ordering out for lunch when Johnny came in his office. Johnny hung up the phone and said, "I said half day, Timberlake. And I know you got here at eight."

"I have a lot of work." Justin thought he was probably pouting like a kid with dirty sneakers, but he really did want to get his stuff done.

"And you were kidnapped and mugged and I don't know what you did these last two days but you don't look rested. Go home, Justin. We'll see you tomorrow morning."

Justin said, "Fine." He was on his way to the parking lot when he saw Lt. Hodges. Hodges had been handling Chris and JC's case. Justin called out, "Hey, what are you doing down here?" He smiled wide, big charming smile even with the bruises and cuts. Ignore the blood, be nice to me, Justin thought.

Hodges said, "Yeah. We caught Chasez, come down to let y'all know."

"You could have called." Justin smiled. He thought, JC? Just JC?

"Oh, I wanted to brag." Hodges smirked and walked into the building.

Justin almost wished he had Lance's phone number. He bet he could find it somewhere. Lance might know what was going on, where Chris was now. But what was the point, he thought. But he wondered if Chris was okay. He thought about Bev and lemonade.

He went home and showered again, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He had a pretty good idea where they would have taken JC.

He stood outside the door thinking of what to say to the guy at the desk. He wasn't the DA assigned to the case anymore. His name would be on record, and he couldn't explain it that way. Justin debated and debated and then when the guy looked up and said, "Yes?"

"I'm with the DA's office," Justin said. It worked but Justin knew he'd regret this in the morning. He'd have to explain to Johnny that he knew Chris, or make up a lie about another case. Johnny would know. Justin sat in the room and rubbed at the back of his neck.

JC came in his orange jumpsuit, ankle chains and handcuffs. He smirked and said, "Mr. Timberlake. I already met the DA for my case, you're not him."

"I was just." Justin sighed. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." JC shifted in his seat and slouched. "You look awful."

"Well, I think I heard some story about getting shot at." Justin leaned forward.

JC laughed. "I heard that story. I heard the cops weren't called, I heard you got right in your car, and, oh, dude, the story I heard had someone yelling duck and not shooting at you but shooting at an illegally parked car. It's a story of, you know, citizen's arrest of a parking violation." JC kept smirking.

"How's Chris?"

JC's face went stony and he glared at Justin. "I don't know. I take the fifth."

"I just wanted to know. I saw Bev yesterday. Two days ago. I just wanted to know."

JC said, "Bev's a nice lady. She shouldn't worry about things." He looked up at the ceiling. "Anyway, you shouldn't be here. Go home, get some sleep. You look like shit."

Justin stood up. "Do you need anything?"

"Nothing from you." JC kept his eyes on the ceiling.

Justin left.

He didn't get much sleep again. He tossed and turned and wished Lance would actually call. Lance would know something. He didn't want to go out with Lance again, not at all. Not at all. Then he heard a noise.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered. The Heights were basically safe. Basically. But Justin'd been kidnapped off the streets and things could happen. Justin suddenly wished for Lance's big black gun. He rolled over quietly and found a hammer by the bed. He pulled on a pair of sweats and crept out of his bedroom. He found his phone in the bathroom which made no sense, but it had been that kind of week. He checked the bathroom and his roommate's room and the hallway. Now for the living room.

He opened the closet door and Chris was sitting on his coats, pointing a gun at him.

"Holy fuck." Justin stepped back and dropped his hammer.

He started to open the phone and Chris said, "No, don't do that. Drop the phone, too. Let's keep this private." He sounded friendly, nice. Justin almost smiled.

"Why, why are you here, Chris?"

Chris stepped out of the closet and walked over to the couch. "Wanted to play some video games." He smiled and waved at Justin with the gun. "Come on, Justin, no one will know I was here, you know you don't want to call the cops. Come over here."

"I'm a member of the Bar. I'm like, Chris, I can't harbor a fugitive. I know you're a fugitive. I'm breaking the law and I can be disbarred for that. You need to go. I'll give you five minutes before I call the cops." Justin reached for his phone.

"Now, stop that." Chris threw the hammer at Justin's hand and hit his wrist. Sharp fucking pains up and down his arm and Justin thought his hand had gone completely numb. "Shit, sorry." Chris frowned. "I just meant to wing you."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, you fucker!" Justin sat on the floor and held his wrist. "You fucking asshole!"

"You were gonna call the cops." Chris sounded apologetic. "I just meant to wing you, I'm sorry about the wrist."

"I still will, damn it." Justin started to crawl towards the phone, and then Chris was standing right in front of him. Chris took the phone away and pulled Justin up.

"No, you won't. Come over and play some video games with me."

Justin curled into a ball on the couch. "Yeah, you broke my fucking wrist and my fucking hand, let's play games."

Chris bent down and held Justin's arm. He rubbed and poked at Justin's wrist and fingers gently and then walked away. "Nothing's broken or even sprained. It just hurts a lot." Chris sighed. "Seriously, can't we get along? I don't want to tie you up. I came to talk, you know. Play video games, have some fun."

"You fucking suck. I hate this week. I hate you, I hate this week." Justin blinked against his wet eyes. He was really tired of aches and pains.

"I'm not having the greatest either."

"They caught JC." Justin watched Chris open his refrigerator and start eating his grapes. Fucker. Justin hadn't moved from the couch, his wrist really hurt.

"I know. He'll be out in a few hours if he's not now. He's got a friend who works there."

"He does?"

Chris nodded and grabbed a jar of peanut butter. He found a spoon in the third drawer he looked in. "He does. Some guy named Tony he used to date. Or something. He owes JC one, just one. So JC's already out, I bet." Chris ate the peanut butter straight from the jar. He always used to do that.

"So why aren't you waiting for him wherever y'all wait?"

"Eh, we had a fight. JC wanted to say a few more goodbyes, I didn't like the people he wanted to say goodbye to. Bunch of shitheads who would've ratted us out. JC does what JC wants, man, I know that for sure." Chris smacked his lips and put the peanut butter away. He put the spoon in the sink. He looked at the spoon for a long while.

"I'm calling the cops. You're a fugitive." Justin sighed. "I have a responsibility. We can't be old times here, Chris."

"I'm fugitive who used to give you the best head you ever had."

Justin slouched on the sofa. "Oh, so what? That doesn't give you license to invade my home and tie me up and --"

Chris waved his hand. "I haven't tied you up. I threatened to tie you up. In order to make sure you don't get in trouble, I may tie you up in a nice way before you fall asleep. I came here to see how you are. And also, to say goodbye."

"I'll visit you in jail." Justin glared at Chris.

"Ha, we won't get caught. We're heading out, dude, and you were once one of my favorite people in the state of Texas, so I am here to say goodbye. You used to not suck."

"You used to not break the law."

"Oh, we both broke the law all the time. Remember when sodomy wasn't legal, boyo?" Chris smirked. "Anyway, I've got places to go in a few hours and since you won't participate, I'm gonna use your Playstation and just play myself. At least I won't have to try and be nice to your lame loser ass." Chris turned on the TV and the Playstation. Then he turned around and smiled. "Seriously, I'm sorry about the wrist. Don't you want to play?"

"I really really can't. Seriously. I have a job, I'm a member of the Bar." Justin watched Chris put in a hockey game. "That one's kind of screwed up. I think my roommate broke it."

Chris nodded. "Okay. This one work?" Justin nodded. Chris started playing and Justin muttered suggestions until he fell asleep.

He opened his eyes and Lance was there, leaning over him. Lance smiled. "Hey, look at you." He'd been tied to a chair, but Chris hadn't lied, it wasn't tight or duct tape or anything. He was still cramping up. He'd probably only been tied up for a few hours.

"Chris was here!" Justin tried to stand up and everything hurt. He hadn't been gagged. He looked down and saw one of his ties on the floor, cut in half. God damn it.

Lance said, "Yeah, we knew that. Come on, stay on the couch. You were tied up for hours."

"Did you untie me? We need to call the police, Chris was here and he tied me up."

Joey said, "We took pictures. And video."

Justin sighed. He was lying on his couch and everything hurt, but his whole arm hurt the most. He looked at it and it was swollen twice the size. He groaned.

Lance said, "We came here because JC broke out of jail last night. And you were on his list of visitors. I think the cops will be here soon, too, and we'll explain that you were all tied up and shit."

"And show 'em the video." Joey nodded.

They were both walking around, looking for clues, Justin thought.

"Did he say anything?" Lance looked up.

"He said they were leaving and he said goodbye." Justin sighed. "Shit, the cops are coming. Did y'all break in?"

"We were worried about you. You didn't answer the phone."

Lance looked innocent and Joey was grinning. Justin closed his eyes.

Johnny was pissed. Justin explained for the third time why he hadn't mentioned being friends with Chris in college, he was sticking with just friends, but otherwise close to the truth. He mentioned visiting Bev but not the shooting or following JC. Johnny just frowned. "So you visited him to see how Chris was?"

"Yeah."

"And he said Bev had nothing to worry about."

"Yeah."

Johnny sighed. He said, "Okay, okay. I'm making the decision here, Timberlake, you were more sinned against than sinning. You should have told me you knew Kirkpatrick and Chasez. You shouldn't have visited him. But Kirkpatrick tied you up and beat the crap out of you, and hell, that's happened you to twice this week, so I'll cut you some slack. Don't come into work until Monday, don't contact anyone involved in the case, and we're okay."

"Really?" Justin smiled. God, please let everything be okay.

"Really. You're going to be a great lawyer someday. I have faith in you. Just stop fucking around." Johnny sighed. "You didn't break any laws, right?"

Justin thought and he was pretty sure he hadn't in the parts he'd told Johnny. He nodded.

Lance was waiting back at the door of his apartment when Justin finally got home. Lance stood up and pointed at the sling. "So anything broken?"

"Nope. Just bruised and damaged. I only have to wear this for a day or two. It's mostly so I don't try to use the wrist and stuff."

Justin fumbled for the key until Lance took it from him and opened the door. Justin sighed and looked at the mess. "Oh, god."

Lance said, "Um, well, they were dusting for fingerprints. They found a few, not yours or your roommate's or mine or Joey's, so that backs your story about Chris."

"It wasn't a story." Justin sank down on the couch. His apartment was a mess. It was almost as painful as his wrist.

"I know." Lance smiled. "Um, you know, I could clean this for you. You shouldn't be doing stuff with your wrist all fucked up."

"Really? You'd clean it real thoroughly?"

Lance laughed. "Yes. Promise. I'll do it right now and you can yell at me if I miss anything."

Justin wanted to dance. "God, I'd love you forever."

Lance said, "Well then, I'm getting right on it." He took off his shirt and folded it carefully on the couch. He was wearing jeans he apparently didn't care about as much as the shirt. Lance set to work in the kitchen, scrubbing off the black powder.

"Don't you have chasing things to do today?"

Lance sighed. "Yeah, I think not. At this point, we've got no new leads on Chris or JC." Lance scrubbed at the peanut butter jar. "Did you hear about the escape? It was a group thing, about five of them got out and beat up three guards. No one got too badly hurt except this one guard, Tony I think, he got hit on the head with a pipe. He's gonna be okay."

Justin thought about Tony, whoever he was, helping out JC and then making sure he got hurt bad enough not to get in trouble. Maybe it went down like that.

Lance said, "Anyway, the thing is, the cops are really looking for them now, and you told about the goodbye thing, so I don't think me and Joey have any advantage here. It sucks to lose a big one like those two, but we'll be better off going after the ones we have a chance at, you know? So we've got a few jobs lined up to start on tomorrow."

"You work on Saturday?"

"All the time. People jump bail every day, man." Lance was now scrubbing the floor of the kitchen. Justin really was going to fall in love with him if he kept this up and that couldn't be good. And that wasn't happening at all. But he was growing pretty fond of the big lug.

Lance just kept talking. About how his grandfather, father and brother-in-law all went to A&M so that's why he did, even though he grew up in Mississippi. "Your brother-in-law?" Justin asked questions so it sounded like he was listening to everything and not half falling asleep.

"Oh, yeah. When I was a freshman, I put up an ad to get a ride back home and he offered. I didn't know him, he was a junior. So we get to my place after this long drive and I'm all, oh, come up, have some tea. And he was like, I dunno, and then he saw Stacey on the porch and he said sure."

"That's really sweet."

"Yeah, I had a ride home whenever I wanted until he graduated." Lance grinned and went back to scrubbing the bookcase.

Justin zoned out again and closed his eyes. He woke up when Lance rubbed his cheek. "Hmm?"

"You should sleep. I cleaned everything up. Like, the whole apartment." Lance and his ever present smile. Justin touched Lance's cheek and then kissed him.

Lance's hands smelled like Clorox, but Justin liked it. He leaned in and his bad arm pressed against Lance's chest.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry, sorry," Lance said and sat back. "Um, you should sleep. Do you have pain pills?"

Justin nodded. Maybe he'd wake up and the whole week would be better. Or at least wiped from his memory.

Lance followed him into the bedroom and said, "Um. Could I stay? Like, maybe it would be good for you, um, if you need help later. Like, dressing? Or so you don't overdose or something and forget how many pills you took."

Justin rolled his eyes. "Dude, get on this bed and sleep with me. And I'm not about to overdose, okay?" He was already falling asleep and he'd clearly lost his mind. This thing with Lance wasn't going any further. After tonight.

He woke up again and the phone was ringing. But not his phone because Justin didn't own a phone that had the ring set to Friends In Low Places. Lance said, "You shitting me?"

Justin grunted and turned over. Lance was quiet and then he said, "I'm at Justin's, I, fuck." Another pause. "Yeah, he's hot, screw you." Justin smiled. Lance said, "I think he's awake, let me check and I'll call you back."

Justin said, "What?"

"I have, Joey called, we got a tip. I should go."

Justin stretched his good arm. "Are you gonna get something to eat on the way? I'm starving."

"Um. I don't know if I can bring food back. It's sort of a stake-out." Lance sat up. "Actually, it might be at a restaurant. So we could leave you there when they show."

"They? Are they dangerous?"

"Um." Lance pulled on his pants. "You know, maybe."

"It's Chris and JC, huh?"

Lance nodded. "Didn't you say Johnny Wright said not to fuck up anymore?"

Justin wanted to go anyway. This would be the end, he thought. He felt it. He wanted to see it through to the end. He sat up. "He did. But, you know, it's a stake-out. You leave me at the restaurant. I won't say anything. I want to go."

Lance stared at him and then looked down. "But you shouldn't."

"I won't say anything. I won't leave the restaurant. I want to go. I want to know how it ends and I want to see them. Just see, not talk or anything." Justin got out of bed and found his pants on the floor. Lance had taken off his pants and shoes and socks when Justin fell asleep. That was really sweet. Justin said it again, "I want to go."

Lance said, "Okay."

It was a Mexican restaurant in Galveston. Across the road was a motel that Lance and Joey kept staring at. Justin tried to stare, too, but the food was amazing. Best Mexican food Justin had ever had in his life. Justin ordered seconds while Joey and Lance hadn't even finished their first burritos.

Justin said, "Dude, you should have some of this, seriously, it's amazing."

Lance said, "Let's go." He stood up and put down money on the table.

"You saw them?"

"Stay here. And don't have any beer, it's bad when you're on those pain pills." Joey and Lance left. Justin watched the two of them hustle out and jump into Joey's truck. They must have gotten the tires fixed from when JC shot them out.

Justin had had three burritos and a lot of nachos when he saw a familiar car pull in to the motel. How did he know that car, how did he know that car? Then he saw JC and Chris get out and he knew. "Oh, fuck."

Justin stood up and threw another ten dollars on the table. He stuffed a matchbook in his pocket so he'd remember the place. He opened his phone and called Lance while he left the restaurant. Thank goodness he'd finally gotten Lance's cell number. "Lance, Lance, answer!"

"Hello?"

"Lance, I'm at the restaurant, I just walked out and fuck, it's raining, but JC and Chris just pulled up and went into the motel."

Lance said, "Oh, fuck. Go back in the restaurant." Then he hung up. Justin put his phone in his pocket and pulled his jacket tighter. No hood and it was really raining. But if he were inside, he wouldn't see if Chris and JC left. It was raining too hard. He shook his head and kept staring at the car and the entrance.

Five, ten minutes since he'd called Lance. Where the fuck had they gone? Justin thought he should call the police. He should have thought of that sooner. Now he'd thought of it and he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was like Bev, he couldn't rat out Chris. He couldn't. Not Chris or JC. Let Lance and Joey take them in, and wasn't that another form of ratting out? But somehow the happy bounty hunters felt different. They were his friends. Somehow that mattered. Justin shook his head again. He wasn't supposed to be here so he couldn't call without getting in trouble. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Lance and Joey would never show up.

Then Chris walked right out of the entrance and was walking right towards him. Justin pressed against the wall and wondered if he would blend.

Not at all. Chris grabbed his good arm and said, "Come with me, dumbhead."

"Why?" Justin tried to pull away.

"Because I said so. Come on, don't make me be mean again." Chris grabbed Justin's bad wrist and squeezed once. "Sorry, but come on, Justin, I need you not to screw up things here."

"You fucker," Justin hissed and almost fell over from the pain. Chris dragged him gently by Justin's good arm. Chris was apologizing again and Justin swore and tried to pull away but all he wanted to do was lie down and throw up. Fucking Chris, asshole, asshole. He should have called the police. He shouted, "I called the police, you shit, they'll be here any minute now."

They were in the middle of the road when Joey's truck came roaring around the corner. Justin tried to wrench himself away and run to the truck, but Chris held on tight. He just stood and stared. Justin shouted, "Help! Help! Call the fucking police, someone!" until JC came up behind him and put his hand over Justin's mouth. JC just glared at him and then glanced at Chris.

JC said, "That them?"

Chris nodded. "Motherfuckers. How do they keep finding us?"

Justin tried biting JC's hand but JC held on. He didn't even flinch. He looked at Justin and said, "Stop it. No one's going to do anything, we're not gonna hurt you and you know it and we know you didn't fucking call the police."

Justin sagged. Chris and JC both let go and Justin was sitting on the wet ground. Lance and Joey were both out of the truck and walking towards them, both with their handguns out.

Justin felt something cold and metallic against his head. He took a deep breath. It couldn't be.

Lance said, "Oh, come on, Chris, you're not gonna shoot him. You've never shot anyone. You gonna start with your ex-boyfriend? You used to love him. Don't even fucking bluff." Lance looked grim. Justin concentrated on the mud seeping into his jeans. It was going to look like he crapped his pants.

"Maybe I've shot people you don't know about."

Joey said, "No, you haven't." He raised his gun and aimed above Justin, to the left. At JC. "I have, though, I've shot lots of people." Joey looked even grimmer than Lance.

Justin said, "Can't we all get along?" He didn't even laugh at that.

JC said, "Look, I have an idea. What we have here is a classic Mexican stand-off. And I think I know a way out."

Lance snorted. He was pointing his gun at Chris now. "Yeah, we're gonna call the cops and take you fuckers in and collect a really nice bounty. There's the answer."

JC said, "No, dude. I got a better idea. How big is that bounty?"

Joey said, "Dude, you can't bribe us."

"I'm sitting right here." Justin raised his hand. "Seriously, I am a member of the bar."

"He keeps saying that." Chris sounded exasperated.

Lance laughed. "Yeah, I know, it's cute." Lance went back to looking grim. "Seriously, you're trying to bribe us. We're about justice here."

Chris laughed. "Oh, please. What's justice? Who did we ever hurt? We stole from the rich."

"That's bullshit," Justin said. "It is. Fuck, I know you have a gun on me," and he just looked at Lance, nowhere else and didn't move his head, "but it's bullshit. You're not some fucking social crusaders. You never gave any of that money away, and you don't get fucking bonus points because you never hurt anyone. You're goddamn thieves and it's wrong no matter who you steal from." He took another deep breath and then JC kicked him hard in his shin. More pain, Justin thought, he was getting used to this. Except that it really fucking hurt.

Lance said, "Stop that." He didn't even blink as he moved his gun slightly so it was pointing at JC. "Seriously, we're done here. Joey, call the cops, we'll cuff 'em now."

"No, you won't. We have more than money to offer." JC was quiet for a moment and then Joey blinked. Lance was staring at something.

Justin tried to look up but the gun was pressing closer. Justin said, "What? What?"

Lance said, "Okay. Okay. Are you serious about that?"

"Serious about what?" Justin was whining, but fuck.

"So," JC said, "Let's talk about this, shall we? See, we all put down the guns and then --"

Justin said, "Okay, if any potentially illegal acts are going to be discussed I'd like the Tony treatment here. Somebody hit me with a pipe and then make up a story when I come to?"

Chris laughed and said, "If you insist." Justin tried to cover his head but it was too late. More blinding pain and he felt mud on his face. Fuck, he thought.

He was in a hotel room. He knew that much. It was dark and everything hurt again. It was getting really tedious. He said, "hello?"

Lance was in his face and he held up two fingers. "How many?"

"Two. I just have a headache."

"Who's the DA?"

"Johnny Wright." Justin sighed. "I'd sit up and show how fine I am but my head hurts."

Lance said, "Cool. We're gonna spend the night here and then go home in the morning. Galveston's so pretty."

"Um, what did JC offer you?"

Lance blinked and got off the bed. He came back and gave Justin a dollar. Justin stared. Lance said, "Take it. I'm hiring you as my attorney. Okay?"

"Okay. Okay, but you know, when it comes to lawyer client confidentiality --"

"Oh, shut up, I'm giving you an out, take it."

Justin nodded. He took the dollar. Lance said, "There was some money involved. Okay? Not as much as you'd think. Okay? But after you were out, we had a good talk. I mean, I know, they're no Robin Hoods, but they're retiring. They are. And they gave us some names. Addresses. Um, they kind of turned in some people they know. And we can get some nice bounties off that and take some bad people out. I don't know, I don't think they're bad people. You loved Chris."

"I never said that." It was true, but Justin wanted points for never admitting it.

Lance just looked at him. Justin sighed. "So fine, you took some money, got some names, and they went south."

"Don't worry about that. They won't come back to the States, okay? We decided. You should rest."

"I should go to the bathroom." Justin got up too fast and then puked on the floor. Lance rubbed his back.

"Do you have a concussion?"

"No, no, fuck off." Justin walked over the vomit and went to the bathroom. He threw up again and thought, fuck, concussion.

Lance came in and said, "I think you have a concussion. We can take you to the hospital."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you. I can clean that up."

Lance laughed. "Yeah, sure. I'll clean it up, don't worry. But we can take you to the hospital."

"Or not, because I take it we're not telling the cops about any of this, right?" Justin stood up and washed his mouth out with water. "Look, I'm standing, I'm fine. I'm taking the next five years off to recover from this one fucking week, but I'm mostly fine."

Lance leaned against Justin's back and rubbed his neck. "You're better than fine."

Justin looked at himself in the mirror. Battered, bruised, another tie ruined because Justin was just the sort of idiot who wore a tie and nice shirt for Mexican food and a stake-out, hair already frizzing from the rain, bags under his eyes. He wasn't anything close to fine. Even his sling looked like shit. Justin said, "You must really like me."

Lance laughed against Justin's neck, puffs of warm air. "I do. Actually, I do."

This, Justin thought, would be a good time to reiterate the not dating men any more speech. But it would be a bad time. And maybe a good time would come up. When Lance wasn't all smiley and happy, or talking about his great old days in college or, fuck. Justin needed to say it now, he was really in deep. Stupid Lance. Justin said, "I like you, too." Stupid Justin.

Lance kissed Justin and moved closer. Justin thought he was so going to call in sick on Monday. And sleep from now until he had to be at work.

Justin stretched by the doorway and looked at the mailbox. He ran in place and took out the letters. Three bills, two still addressed to the previous tenant. He'd only just moved into the house, but he was already tired of still getting the wrong mail. He liked the privacy of his own place, all his own. Even if he was just renting.

So bills and one postcard. From Costa Rica. Justin turned it over and noticed it had been forwarded from his old place, but Lance and Joey's names were written underneath his own. He recognized that handwriting. The message said, "The bar's called Extradition." And underneath that "Come by, we won't card." Justin fanned himself with the card and then went back upstairs. He found the matchbook from the Mexican restaurant and set the card on fire in the sink. Then he washed the ashes down the drain. Nothing for a junior DA to keep.

He went downstairs and ran for an hour. He thought about arguments for court, the way Lance sang in the shower when he slept over sometimes and how many months he should wait before vacationing in Costa Rica. And how he wouldn't bring any ties when he went, but he would bring Joey and Lance.

THE END.

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