Zane supposed he should feel all warm and fuzzy about Ty at least not wanting him gruesomely murdered and left to bleed out in his shower or something. Somehow, the sentiment didn’t really inspire much camaraderie, though. “So where are we going?”
“Holiday Inn, man,” Ty answered. “If I’m footin’ the bill, I ain’t paying no damn five hundred bucks a night.”
Zane shrugged. A room was a room. He’d stayed in better and he’d stayed in worse. He followed Ty out of the lab and back down the hall to the elevator. “And then?” He wanted to know if Ty’s sudden concern for his well-being included staying in close proximity; he’d planned to come back after dinner to study the maps and evidence notes.
Ty shrugged as he punched the elevator button. “Then we see what’s brewing,” he answered carelessly.
Zane looked over at his partner in exasperation. First, complete and total focus on the case, a case that wasn’t even their main focus, and now, this. “Do you do anything like a normal person?” he asked, although the question was wholly rhetorical. And not at all complimentary.
Ty turned around and looked at him in slight surprise once they were in the elevator. “Only the fun things,” he answered finally after a moment of looking at him thoughtfully.
“Fun things,” Zane echoed, not looking away from Ty once he was pinned by the man’s hazel eyes.
“You remember those, don’t you?” Ty questioned with a smirk as he let his eyes travel up and down Zane thoughtfully. “Maybe you don’t,” he decided with a sigh.
Zane knew with absolute certainty that he did not want this conversation to continue. “How many strikes have I got left?” he asked abruptly. He knew Ty had been taking his measure, in more ways than one.
“None,” Ty answered immediately, though he was somewhat surprised Zane even knew to ask the question.
A ghost of a self-deprecating smile crossed Zane’s lips. He knew Ty had no respect for him. Frankly, Zane didn’t care. He didn’t plan for this joke of a partnership to last long. He just wondered who higher up in the Bureau had decided to take him out along with Ty. “So why hasn’t the ump thrown me out of the game?”
“’Cause there ain’t no umps in this particular game,” Ty answered seriously as the doors whooshed open on the ground floor. “And there ain’t no rules.”
Zane walked out ahead of the other man. “So we do without.” He could live with that. Better than working under someone else’s thumb like the past two years. “Or we make up our own.”
“Yeah, you seem the type to need rules,” Ty responded with a derogatory sneer.
Zane didn’t answer as they walked through the parking garage. He drew back into his stony silence, focusing on thinking about the next steps of the investigation instead of the insolence of his jackass of a partner.
After checking in to a hotel just a block or two from the swanky establishment where they were supposed to be staying, Ty Grady Aimmediately fell into the shower and went about washing the frustration of the day away. He had been a little surprised when his new partner had paid for his own room, but it suited him just fine. He didn’t want to be within ten feet of the f**ker if he didn’t have to be. Arrogant priss. God, the man probably slept in his tie.
Having separate rooms would work well if Ty intended to start into this the way he usually did. He wasn’t used to the normal channels and he did far better working a case from the underbelly rather than in conventional ways. He doubted Zane would go with him tonight, and he’d just as soon go on his own, anyway. He’d always been more comfortable slinking around in the shadows than waving his authority around.
In a room down the hall, Zane Garrett sighed as he threw down his duffel bags and briefcase. He ran his hands through his hair and then stretched. He and Ty ended up several doors down from each other, but it wasn’t far enough as far as Zane was concerned.
A hot shower sounded good, so he started stripping down. Next order of business was food, and then he’d go back to the office. He reminded himself that he’d at least need to call Ty and tell him where he was going. If they were real partners, they’d have stayed in the same room, but Zane sure as hell wasn’t going to suggest it. He wasn’t that masochistic.
Pulling on comfortable worn jeans and a rust-red V-neck sweater after cleaning up, Zane picked up his holster, checking it all over before settling it comfortably on his shoulders and buckling it down. He checked the thin sheaths he wore just inside his wrists, then knelt down and strapped another sheath around his ankle. Completely armed, he felt better than he had all day. He hated airplanes. The security tended to get a little strident when you tried to take knives through checkpoints, even if you were a federal agent who always carried a gun.
His canvas jacket went over that, and with a look in the mirror, he rolled his eyes. Ty would probably think he was trying to copy him, looking less stuffy and more street-worthy. Zane sighed at the mirror, then grabbed his wallet, cigarettes, lighter, and key card and headed down the hall to the other agent’s door for a quick check-in.
Ty answered the curt knock in a towel, body still dripping wet and steam roiling out of the bathroom door behind him.
Zane raised an eyebrow as his stomach flip-flopped in reaction.
“Yeah. That’s real safe,” he commented, forcing his voice to sound wry.
“What?” Ty asked with a tilt of his head.
Zane looked significantly up and down Ty’s barely covered body.
Ty looked down at himself and then back up at Zane with a sniff as he realized what Zane was blathering about. “I’m a lethal weapon, man,” he grunted. He turned and gave a wave over his shoulder, gesturing for him to come in.
Zane would have snorted except he figured Ty wasn’t overstating all that much. There was no telling what Ty’s background was (although Zane had already discerned he was military of some sort) but he did indeed look capable. And fit. Very fit. Zane swallowed as he stepped inside and pushed the door shut behind him, leaving the odd feelings in the hall and withdrawing back into his professional persona for safety.
“I figured you’d want to know if I wasn’t going to be home by curfew,” he said, sliding a hand into his jacket pocket.
“I’m not your f**king keeper,” Ty grunted as he shucked the towel and reached for his briefs. He glanced back to see Zane’s hand in his pocket and tensed instinctively.