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by
They can change your life in a second. Did mine. Changed in a way I never expected, but that's what I've come to find. Things don't always work out the way you want.
They could be worse. That's one thing I can tell myself.
I could be dead right now.
Could have died in prison, as a matter of fact, but Kevin saved me from that. Well, he saved me from one jail and put me in another instead.
It's damn scary to wake up every morning and know that there's something in your brain that God and/or nature didn't put there. It can drive me insane or kill me if it's removed.
Not much of a choice there.
So I stay in my new prison, working for a nameless Agency that I can't even be proud to work for. I stay and do my thing. I turn invisible and get my shot. I do the partner thing.
If I was being honest with myself (and it doesn't happen often...the Land of Denial is a wonderful place), the one reason that I haven't taken off is almost a foot shorter than me.
Yeah, Bobby Hobbes is the reason I'm still here. He's not like any partner I've ever had before. Being a thief doesn't generate a lot of trust. You had partners, but you never trusted them.
Trust. That's the bottom line, really.
I trust Bobby Hobbes with my life and I've never trusted anyone but Kevin with that.
That's a heavy thing to lay on someone. That you trust them with your life. That you'd put your life on the line for them and you *know* without a doubt that they would do the same for you.
Scares the shit out of me.
For once, I have a reason to go to work. Sure, stealing was its own reward, but I was never very good at it. I'm cursed with a conscience that I can't shut up. I wouldn't be in this mess if I had just let that old man die. But I couldn't. It wasn't right.
So now I ride around in a piece of shit van with a partner that likes froofy coffee and takes Zoloft to curb psychotic episodes. I can't and won't judge him for that anymore. It's the same with the counteragent. Except if I have an 'episode' things get ugly and fast.
I've experienced pain before. Got the shit beat out of me more than once in the joint, but that was to be expected. A guy that looks like me better know how to watch his own ass. Literally.
So, yeah, I've done pain. But it was nothing compared to what I go through every time the gland goes nuts. It's like nothing I've ever experienced before. Like someone is rooting around in my head with a hot poker. Can't see, can't think, can't hear. Hurts so bad I just want to die.
And that's how Darien Fawkes became an addict.
Don't take the counteragent and go insane. Take the counteragent and risk becoming immune to it. Not a whole lot of room to maneuver.
But I don't want to be in a straitjacket for the rest of my life. So I do the little missions, I let the Keeper shoot me full of the counteragent and I hate it.
Bobby's the high point of my day. Work doesn't suck so bad if we're working together. Seeing him, talking to him, listening to him...
Makes me sound like I'm in love with the guy.
I'm not.
I wasn't.
But like I said, close calls have a way of changing your life.
Bullets coming too close for comfort are a fact of life when you're an agent for a secret government agency. Hard to say what made this last time different.
We were hunkered down behind some crates in a warehouse. Felt like I was in a movie or something it was so cliche. Doing the whole 'observe and report back thing,' so of course something had to go wrong.
I was supposed to go see-through, check out the situation, and report back to Hobbes for his pearls of wisdom about the situation.
But the guy was moving. He was changing position, getting close to where Bobby was, and Bobby was waiting for me, so he wasn't looking out for the guy.
So I had to reappear. I had to. Had to distract the guy, and give Bobby a clue the guy was close.
Okay, so the guy shot at me. And Bobby shot the guy. And it was over, just like that.
But then I saw Bobby's face as he came closer. I saw anger and fear and adrenaline and all kinds of other stuff, and I realized this wouldn't be over quite so easily after all.
****
"Come on, Fawkes. You're a psycho. You go jumping into traffic without bothering to check with me first. You get in the way of bullets. It's about to drive me nuts."
Darien stood there in surprise, watching his partner pacing back and forth across the small interior of the Official's office.
Bobby moved freely, waving his arms in anger as he spoke. For once there was no Official or Eberts there to shut him up, and he was taking full advantage of the opportunity. "You got no sense of what it means to be an agent, you know that? You do your thing, do whatever the hell you want, and to hell with the rest of us. Is that it, Fawkes? That what you think to yourself?"
Darien opened his mouth to respond, but Bobby kept going.
"You're my partner, Fawkes. My partner. You got any idea what that means? It means when we get out there, when it really counts, I gotta count on you and you gotta count on me. But I don't know what the hell you're gonna do from one minute to the next. I don't know if you're gonna run off without telling me, I don't know if you're watching my back while I'm trying to watch yours. I can't work like this anymore! I'm close enough to nuts as it is."
"Bobby--"
"I got too many other things to worry about, you know? I'm not the most stable person in the world as it is, and suddenly I got an invisible partner and all these weird cases. I got some woman trying to drown me with spit, I got Swiss scientists appearing every other week or so. I got to deal with you and your gland-induced psychoses. I could really use a partner through this. Instead I gotta baby sit you, and I can't rest for a second 'cause if I do, you're just gonna be jumping in front of a car again."
"Hobbes, is there some point to this little rant?"
That was the wrong thing to say. Bobby stopped mid-pace and whirled to him.
Darien raised a hand quickly, a little nervous by the tension in the office. "Come on, Bobby. I'm sorry I went to try and stop that shooter without your permission. I didn't know what else to do."
"You trying to get yourself killed?"
Darien rolled his eyes. "Come on."
"Fawkes...you almost got killed. You keep almost getting killed, and you keep doing stupid things without giving me any warning. If you got some death wish, you need to let me in on it."
"Bobby. I'm sorry. What do you want from me?"
Bobby's eyebrows flew up. "You really want me to answer that?"
Darien blew out a breath, and motioned for him to go on.
Bobby faced him for a quiet moment, as if trying to get his thoughts in order.
Darien crossed his arms, waiting for the list of his faults. He was giving Bobby full reign to rant, and Bobby was never one to turn down an offer like that.
But Bobby just sighed, finally, and shook his head. "Nothing. I don't want anything from you." He slumped, looking tired.
Darien blinked. "What?"
"Forget it." Bobby moved suddenly, going towards him and the door.
Darien blinked again. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Bobby was supposed to rant and rave about being careful and Darien was supposed to roll his eyes and agree with everything Bobby said. And then he'd forget it the next time his partner was in trouble.
"Bobby?"
No answer. Just Bobby getting closer and closer, face void of expression.
Darien felt a flash of guilt. Sometimes he forgot that Bobby worried about him just like he worried about Bobby. He wasn't used to it. Darien was used to hanging out with people who never had any need for him personally, just his skills. They never cared if he lived or died.
Bobby cared.
And...it was nice. It was nice and wonderful and great that Bobby cared enough to yell at him for almost getting killed.
Bobby cared.
Bobby cared and Darien was about to let himself be pushed aside so Bobby could leave.
No way was that happening. He had to fix this.
But Bobby was already brushing past him, reaching for the doorknob.
"Bobby, please don't leave." Darien put every ounce of sincerity he had into the plea.
Bobby stopped, but didn't turn around. "I have to," he said flatly.
"No, you don"t. Stay and talk to me. Please."
Bobby sighed raggedly. "I can't."
"Why the hell not? You just gave me a whole speech about what it's like to be a partner and now here you are running out on yours. What"s the deal, Hobbes?" Darien approached him from behind.
"The deal is, if I don't leave now we're gonna get physical."
Darien stopped, blinking. "Uh. Come on, Bobby. You can't be that mad."
Bobby laughed slightly, still not turning around.
"It was a mistake. I'm sorry. We can let this go, right?" His silence was becoming unnerving.
Darien was suddenly having more serious thoughts. What if this was more important than he realized? What if all that talk about not being able to handle this anymore was for real? Bobby didn't really mean to leave, did he? More than just leaving the office?
No. Bobby Hobbes wouldn't quit. Bobby Hobbes doesn't bail on his partner.
Unless his partner bailed on him first.
Oh, crap.
"Bobby." Darien moved right up behind the agent, laying a hand on a suddenly stiff shoulder. "Let's talk about this."
"Take your hand off me, Fawkes." Bobby's voice was flat.
"Not until you turn around. This can be fixed, it's not life or death."
Bobby spun around at that. "Yes, it is! You don't get it, do you? You really don't have a clue what the problem is here."
"I do. I know I made a mistake, and I know it almost got me killed."
"Please. I don't give a damn about your mistake. You're a hot-headed kid, and you won't change. I get that."
Darien paused at that. "So what is the problem?"
"The problem is, I should be so pissed at you I ask the fat man for another assignment. I should be gone now, out the door without listening to a damned word you say. You should have driven me nuts by now, Fawkes. You're irritating, careless, irresponsible, and you're lousy at the agent game. You're too nice, too involved. You're exactly what I'm not, and it should be killing me to have to work with you. I should want to hit you, Darien."
"So...you don't want to hit me?"
"Jesus!" Bobby blew out a breath, exasperated. "This is what I'm talking about!"
"What?" Darien frowned, wondering if he'd missed a key sentence somewhere that tied this all up and made it make sense. "Bobby, there's got to be something I can do to make up for--"
"Just stop it! Stop talking for one frigging minute. Christ."
"Bobby, come one. You're being unreasonable. If you'd just tell me what the problem--"
Bobby grabbed Darien by the front of his shirt and jerked him down to Bobby's level. "You are the most annoying man I have ever worked with." And he sealed those words by dragging Darien down closer and leaning in, forcing their lips together for a too rough, too brief second.
Darien jerked back when Bobby let him go, blinking it utter shock. "Wh..uh..."
Bobby sighed and bowed his head slightly. "There. Sorry, kid. Had to be done. Now I feel better. Now we can pretend this whole day never happened."
Darien stood there, frozen. His lips still felt the pressure of the impersonal but still shocking kiss.
Kiss. That was a kiss. Holy Christ on a cracker.
"I'll be in my office. You still need to see the Keeper." With those casual words, Bobby turned and left.
Darien stared at the door. He reached up and brushed a finger over his lips in memory. He could still feel it.
Hell, he could still feel it in his toes. The shock, the surprise, and this strange, pleasant little warm feeling. He could feel it everywhere.
Bobby Hobbes just kissed him. It didn't go anything like it went in his dreams sometimes, but it was a kiss.
He was out the door a minute later and down the hall, rushing through the door of Bobby's office.
Bobby looked up when he came in, expectantly. "What?"
"What? *What?* Jesus! I...you...'What?'" Darien flailed his arms in nervous emotion as he paced the small office. "I have been part of some weird shit before, but that was...weird! You just...we..."
"Darien. People would take you more seriously if you learned to finish your sentences."
Darien stopped moving and gaped at him. "Hobbes..." He was acting so casual. Like nothing happened. Like he went around kissing everyone he found irritating. Which wasn't the case, Darien knew. Otherwise Hobbes and Eberts would be in permanent lip-lock. "I thought I knew you, Hobbes. I mean, I know you're paranoid, psychotic. I know about Viv, and your old days in the Marines. I know almost everything about you, but I never realized this."
"Realized what?"
"You're a tease!"
Bobby stopped at that, his casual mask cracking in surprise. "A what?"
"You don't go sucking someone's face and then act like it never happened? You don't get someone hot and bothered by a little peck on the mouth and then just walk out of the room! If you couldn't tell, I'm a little excited here!"
"Yeah, I'd say. You want to lower your voice before the entire Agency is in on our activities?"
"Not that kind of excited!" Darien gestured blatantly between his legs. "I'm excited!"
Bobby blinked. He regarded Darien, his eyes drifting down to where Darien was pointing. He blinked again, cleared his throat slightly. "Oh."
"So?" Darien almost wanted to laugh. "Is Mamma Hobbes' little boy gonna leave his partner in this state?"
Bobby dragged his eyes back up to meet Darien's. "And what does Mrs. Fawkes' little boy want me to do about it, exactly?" There was a faint kind of hope in his voice.
"I want you to finish what you started!"
Bobby lit up. His eyes brightened, his smirky little smile blossomed to take over his face. "You serious? 'Cause I'll take you up on it, I'm warning you."
"Is that a warning or a promise?" Darien moved in closer to the desk, perching on the edge with a smile.
"It's whatever you want it to be," Bobby replied, standing and moving around to where he sat. "As long as you realize that Bobby Hobbes doesn't do things like this without some kind of emotion involved."
"Jesus. And you called me irritating. Bobby, how much more obvious could I have been all this time? I love you, nutcase."
Bobby stopped at that, his face going suddenly neutral. "Darien..."
Darien could predict the words before Bobby spoke them. "Don't even start. Of course I'm serious. I know I'm kinda irresponsible, but I don't go making declarations like that at the drop of a hat. I'm surprised you haven't figured it out by now."
"You really..."
"Yep."
"Huh."
"Yeah."
They regarded each other for a moment.
Another moment passed. Darien tilted his head slightly to study his partner.
And two seconds later, they were trying to suck each other's tonsils out with as much enthusiasm as was humanly possible.
When they broke apart for air, Darien couldn't help beaming at Bobby. "What do you know?"
"Yeah." Bobby laughed, a little breathless. "Strange day, huh?"
"I always liked strange."
"I'm getting to like it," Bobby agreed.
Darien grinned, throwing an arm around his partner's waist and dragging him close. "Louie, I think this could be the start of a wonderful sex scene."
Bobby laughed, but pressed against Darien's body tightly. "I love you back, kid, but we're not doing anything in my office."
"Aw. You're no fun."
"Trust me, kid. When I get you home with me I'll be more fun than you can handle."
"Now, was that one a warning or a promise?"
"Guess you'll just have to come over and find out."
"I can deal with that."
****
If this was one of Aesop's fables, I"d be telling you the moral of this story right about now. But this isn't a fable, this is my life. A life that I don't hate as much as I used to. A life I can handle living so long as I have Bobby.
Maybe there is a moral to this story. Close calls aren't always a bad thing. They do change your life. Sometimes in the best way possible. Yeah, I still do stuff like save Bobby's life and he still yells at me for it, but we're both happy.
And in the end that's all that really matters.
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