“You brought a change of clothes, right?” Ty asked Zane as he looked him over critically.
Zane stopped in place and just stared at him. He could feel the paint dribbling down his neck, into the collar of his jacket, and curling along his palms and fingers.
“What?” Ty asked innocently, his eyes wide.
Zane crossed his arms, heedless of how it spread the paint more across his jacket. “I didn’t expect to turn into a wide-open target.”
Ty’s lips twitched, and it was clear that he was desperately trying to hold on to the innocent facade. “How many months have you been my partner?” he inquired.
“On the books or off?” Zane asked with equal nonchalance.
Ty finally let a smirk play across his lips, and he stepped closer. “Either way, you should know you’re always a target,” he advised, his voice low and teasing.
Zane rolled his eyes. “Funny guy.” He uncrossed his arms and looked down at himself. “I’m a mess, and it’s your fault. What are you gonna do about it?”
“Make you walk home,” Ty answered seriously as he twirled his car keys around his finger and turned to head off for his Bronco again.
“C’mon, Grady,” Zane complained as he followed. “I brought you down here, didn’t I?”
“That’s right,” Ty acknowledged. “If it weren’t for you, those could have been real bullets and bombs we were playing with,” he said pointedly. “But no,” he drawled out in disappointment.
Zane stopped at the side of the truck. “I passed the tests, okay? Should be any day now we get the word from Burns.” He opened the back door and pulled out a duffel bag.
“Did you really bring a change of clothes?” Ty asked in surprise as he tossed his gear into the back seat.
Zane favored Ty with an aggravated look, but he was still pleased enough with the day not to get pissy about it. “I figured you’d find some way to f**k me over,” he said. “You’ve been bouncing off the walls for over a week now, and I’m your favorite target lately.”
“Are you still pissy about the rubber band cannon?” Ty asked him in exasperation.
“Ugh.” Zane started unbuttoning the BDU blouse. “You’re lucky that guy from accounting didn’t know it was you when his toupee went flying. He might have rerouted your next paycheck to Greenpeace.”
Ty began snickering softly, obviously trying to hold in the laughter. He closed the back door and leaned against the rear of the Bronco to look at Zane critically. “All the puns in my arsenal, and I can’t think of a single blue joke,” he said mournfully.
Zane carefully pulled the heavy green and black camouflage jacket off, turning it totally inside out as he did. “Off your game, Grady,” he said distractedly as he set the folded-up blouse on the pavement next to his feet and started digging in his duffel for a towel.
“You’re just pissed ’cause you got riddled with holes,” Ty grunted as he turned to head for the driver’s side door.
Zane had to smile as he shook his head. Ty had been going crazy in the office for the past five weeks, so when he’d heard about the chance to come over here to Quantico for the day, Zane had jumped at it and dragged his raving-mad partner along. With a sigh, Zane wiped pretty much all the paint off his hands and swiped under his chin a couple times before folding up the towel and shoving it and the now-blue uniform blouse in the duffel.
Ty had the truck running when Zane got into the passenger seat and shut the door.
Ty was looking at him with a crooked smile. Zane raised one eyebrow. “What?”
“That was fun,” Ty told him in a pleased voice, one Zane hadn’t heard much lately.
Whatever annoyance he’d been feeling faded in the face of Ty’s unholy glee. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said, giving his partner a tolerant look. Maybe Ty would be a little easier to live with for a day or two. Which would in turn make Zane a little less cranky as well. It might just be a decent week after all.
Ty gave him a wicked laugh as he pulled the Bronco out of its spot, pointing them back toward DC.
Chapter 2
“SO, SPECIAL Agent Garrett, I understand you’ve finished your evaluations,” the Assistant Director of the Criminal Investigative Division said from where he sat behind his large mahogany desk. The desk stood out against the drab colors of the paint and carpet and matched the wall of bookshelves that warmed the room.
FBI Special Agent Zane Garrett stood at the window, looking out at the wet, dirty streets of Washington, DC, and desperately wishing he could be anywhere else. He could see his boss in the window; the man behind the desk held several files in his hand as he looked at Zane with raised eyebrows.
Zane sneered at his own reflection in the window. The shadows under his eyes and wrinkles from his frown were pronounced above his slightly crooked nose, giving him a rough and tumble appearance even though he was clean-shaven. The scraped cheeks were in sharp contrast to his slightly overgrown dark brown hair. Looking at himself, he acknowledged that, despite the muscular build cloaked in black slacks and a royal blue dress shirt, he wasn’t any prize right now.
He had been assigned to the DC office for five weeks, along with his partner, after they’d been reunited in this very office following five miserable months apart. Upon receiving the new assignment, they had both been relegated to deskwork for various reasons, not the least of which was the physical and mental aftereffects of the turbulent past year or so. For him, it had been an especially rough year. Ty seemed better able to shake off the past than he did. Zane took a steadying breath and slid his hands into his pockets, shifting uncomfortably in place.
He winced and turned to look at Richard Burns. He’d known the meeting today would be… rocky.
“You passed the academic and physical testing, but you know that already. You also know you managed to flunk the mental evaluation that would have cleared you for field duty,” Burns said in concern.
Zane didn’t answer as he folded his arms in front of himself, wondering what he could say to explain. There was so much shit bouncing around in his head that he wasn’t sure himself why he’d had such a tough time with an evaluation he should have been able to bullshit through easily. He just hadn’t been able to focus.
“If there’s a legitimate reason you can’t get your head out of your ass, I’d like to hear it,” Burns invited as he looked back up at Zane. He paused, probably waiting to see if Zane would say anything. When he received no comment, Burns continued. “Is it your partner?” he asked carefully.