Flowers

Kirk snickered at Sam's rant about Mark. He couldn't agree more, and was just as glad that soon he wouldn't have to be witness to his arrogance anymore. "Okay. See you in the conference room. Don't be late..."

..."So, that's the scoop." Now that the Elite had been informed about the changes, Kirk was free to talk about all that had been going on. "Barnes approved Adison coming with me - the board wants three FBI agents involved. That said, I need one more and... I wondered if you'd be interested."

He sat across from Sam at the large meeting table, and folded his hands. "We'll still be FBI but working directly under the Elite. And I have to be honest, I need someone who can be a handler to a current prisoner with a bad attitude that's part of their rehabilitation program. It wouldn't be the whole job, but a portion of it, and it probably wouldn't be fun." He paused, pursing his lips. "I think you'd be a good fit, and the three of us already get along so that's a huge plus. But I can't sugar coat it... it's going to be a challenge. I just want your raw thoughts. And if you're put off by the idea, just say so - no hard feelings."


Jamison's eyebrows rose. "What? You want to take me with you?" No one ever wanted him tagging along on their cases. He always had to bribe the other agents with intel or promise to do the paperwork for them later. He knew Adison wasn't the type to ask anything like that of him though, and he wasn't about to pass up the chance to get out of here for a while. 

A smile slowly formed. "Give me two minutes and I'll meet you outside. You drive."

It really only did take him a couple minutes to drop off the paperwork upstairs, grab his gun and badge and meet Adison in the parking lot. Getting in the passenger side, he buckled in before opening up a filing folder and thumbing through some papers. "The CEO is Henry Klarksen, and he should be in the office today since it's Thursday, so go to the headquarters downtown."

He took a pencil from behind his ear and jotted a note. Sitting almost sideways, he didn't even pay attention to Adison's driving. "So the body that was found ends up being a long lost lover of Henry's granddaughter. But no one drew that connection because the piece of missing evidence was a a pocket watch with an inscription that would reveal all that."

He fumbled with another sheet, and stuck the pencil in his mouth as he ran his finger down several paragraphs of information. "He dntf ehalzs unhil ooht ate aht eehd emblzz ffty hiusnnd ..." He spit the pencil out without breaking concentration. "dollars from the company. So basically it all comes down to money."

As they came to a sudden red light, his hand shot out to catch himself in the dashboard, which didn't phase him. "Henry has to be the one that hired the killer. No one else has motive."


Garret glanced up as Maggie came bounding back into the kitchen, and had to grin just a little. She sure was in a good mood this morning. He started to take another sip of coffee and almost choked as he heard her question. Being here in their house was one thing, but being responsible to get Maggie home from school was quite another. "Uh, Mags, that's..." He shook his head. "That's..." He looked at Nate and Laura for help.

Laura was just as surprised by the request though, and blinked before glancing at Nate. She had to take him to work so she'd have the car anyway, but...did he really want Garret picking up Maggie from school? Not to mention, should they even put that kind of pressure on him?


Con turned the television off for the umpteenth time, and shifted restlessly in his chair. This whole day had been off kilter ever since hunting down Gunner. He knew his friend was not in good shape just by looking at him. But he was okay now, right? Safe with Bree and JT? Then why did he have this nagging feeling that Gunner was still going to do something stupid?

Growling, he finally got to his feet. There was only one way to solve this...

...Getting to Gunner's apartment, Con parked and got out of his car. He'd been a little surprised to find Gunner wasn't still at JT's, but then...none of this was logical. Heading to the door, he knocked. Waited. Nothing. "Gunner?" Not that he could hear a response anyway. He knocked again. Still nothing. He turned to look and make sure Gunner's car was there. It was. He tried the apartment door. Locked. A few feet away, he felt under the window sill before pulling out the spare key from its hiding place. "Hey, Gunner?" Why did he have a feeling of dread?

It was dark inside with the curtain's drawn and no lights on. Wandering inside, Con's eyes swept the area before he moved to the living room. There, he made out a shape in the corner, and his heart skipped a beat. "Gunner, you alright?" He flipped on the light.

Gunner sat on the floor in the corner of the room. He'd showered, shaved and changed clothes just like he'd planned - that much was obvious. But now, his eyes were back to their dim stare, not even acknowledging Con existed.

Con approached cautiously. "Hey..." He took a knee next to his friend before touching his shoulder.

Gunner jumped, snapping out of it, and finally looking at Con. How'd he gotten in here? How long had he been here? "Con? What...are you doing here?"

"Just came by to see you... You alright? You didn't answer your door."

"Yeah... yeah, sure."

Con saw Gunner hiding his hand, and his eyes narrowed. "What do you have?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"It's nothing!"

"Gunner!" Con reached for his hand, but Gunner gave him a shove.

"Back off!" Gunner growled. "I don't need you or anyone else telling me what to do!"

Con stood up, now both mad and scared. "So help me, Gunner. Get to your feet."

"No."

"Now!" Con reached down and pulled Gunner to his feet. As he did, Gunner lost his grip on what he'd been hiding, and it fell to the floor. Before he could recover, Con grabbed it and squinted to read the bottle. "Sleeping pills? Are you serious?!"

Gunner crossed his arms and scowled up at him. "Go away, Con. This is my apartment. Leave."

"Heck no." Con stuffed the bottle in his pocket. "You're coming with me."

Gunner took a defensive stance. "Make me."

"Okay, fine." Con started forward, and for a moment the two had a brief wrestling match.

Gunner backed himself into a corner and pointed a finger at Con angrily. "Get out!"

"So you can do what? Find another way to kill yourself?! What were you thinking?!"

"You wouldn't understand, okay?!"

"You're right, I probably wouldn't." Con set his hands on his hips. "I can't understand why a man who has as much as you do would be willing to to just throw it all away!"

Gunner folded his arms again, the anger slowly receding to be replaced with his desperate sorrow. "It's not worth it anymore. It's just...not worth it. I'm tired of fighting, I'm tired of always making the wrong choice, and I'm tired of having everything I do be scrutinized!"

"And it's all about you, isn't it?" Con's tone was laced with sarcasm. "It's all about you and your problems. It's not about your friends, or the people who care about you, or Bree, who's worried sick about you. No...you just think about yourself, and that's all that matters, right?"

Gunner just stared at the floor.

"Do you even realize what you're doing to Bree?" Con continued sternly. "Every time you go off the deep end instead of asking for help, you take her down with you. Don't you realize when you do things like this, you're killing her, too?"

Gunner swallowed hard and slowly shook his head.

"Well you are." Con huffed a sigh, trying to calm down. "What happened, huh? Why are you doing this?"

"I dunno." Gunner shrugged lamely. "I just...without my job and all it just... I keep messing up and...and my head it... I just can't think, and...and I just want it all to go away."

"Yeah, well this is no way to do that."

"I know." Gunner's head hung even lower. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." Con shook his head. "I don't know what to do with you now."

"I'm okay now...really." Gunner finally looked back up at him, his eyes begging to be trusted. "I...I told Bree I'd go back over there for supper so...so I will. I promise."

"How can I believe you?"

"Please?"

Con thought for several long, hard moments. "I'm staying here until you leave."

"But-"

"No buts. Get yourself ready to go. I'll follow you back over there."

Gunner sighed and nodded, slowly trudging to his bedroom to put his socks on. His mind was so full that it physically hurt. He just wanted to lie down and go to sleep and never wake up. Con's words echoed through his mind. He could make this right somehow, couldn't he? He could fix it...right?

...An hour or so later, Gunner was back at JT's in time for supper as he'd promised. Knocking on the front door, then entering like always, he found Bree in the kitchen. Smiling at her, he pulled his hand from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of flowers. "Hi..." He looked at her rather sheepishly before coming close and giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. "Forgive me?"