Fish & Chips

by Abigail Roux

  “I did finish and submit my report,” Zane finally said. “Took a while to figure out what to include and what to… edit.”

  “I hope you didn’t edit out the copious amounts of sex,” Ty said drily. He lifted his glass to his lips as he spoke, trying to hide his smirk. “Because I took detailed notes.”

  Zane chuckled as he picked up his water glass. “Wouldn’t that give McCoy a thrill,” he said deadpan.

  Ty was smiling when he set his glass down, his eyes on Zane with that same intensity Zane had been noticing more and more often. The kind that usually came right before clothing started being ripped off. It made Zane shiver even though he flushed with warmth. He tried to hold back the grin, propping one elbow on the table as he rubbed his fingers over his chin in a bid to hide some of the giddiness that threatened.

  Ty looked up at Zane critically. “You’re too pleased with yourself,” he observed, still suspicious. “I don’t like it. Stop it.”

  Zane blinked. He didn’t think he was projecting anything. But it was getting more difficult to hide things from Ty, even if he wanted to. As for now… dammit. Zane cleared his throat. Leave it to Ty to ferret out something before he was ready to share it.

  Ty reached across the table and took his hand suddenly, squeezing it gently. Instead of letting go immediately like he usually did, though, he held on, not seeming to care who saw them in the crowded restaurant. He slid his hand up to Zane’s wrist and gave it another squeeze before he let go and reached for his glass again. “It’s okay,” he assured Zane as he lifted the glass to his lips. “You’re kind of cute when you’re scheming.”

  Zane’s stomach flipped, and he wet his bottom lip, nerves fluttering. It wasn’t the gesture, or even the venue. It was the trust. “I, ah, made a New Year’s resolution,” he said, embarrassed that it came out a little shaky.

  “Oh yeah?” Ty asked in amusement. “My last one was not to shoot anyone for a year,” he told Zane ruefully as he looked down at his glass and swirled the ice around. “I’m not very good at them,” he observed with a faint frown. He looked back up at Zane. “What did you resolve?”

  Zane huffed out a little laugh at Ty’s self-deprecating comment, but it didn’t dispel the nerves. He was annoyed with himself for a moment and drummed his fingers on the tablecloth. “I resolved to take better care of myself.”

  Ty’s eyebrows climbed slowly. “Good. Less work for me,” he said, winking at Zane to ease the truth in the words.

  It helped Zane relax a little, knowing Ty was in a good enough mood to tease. He reminded himself that Ty had really taken a hell of a plunge with announcing that “I love you” with no warning; surely a smaller admission like this wasn’t that difficult. He swallowed hard. “That’s why I was late,” he said before adding in a little bit of a rush, “The AA meeting ran over.”

  Ty looked at him in true surprise, his hazel eyes wide, struck speechless for a long moment. Finally, he nodded slowly, his expression entirely serious. “That’s good, Zane,” he whispered. He nodded again, smiling slowly. “That’s really good.”

  Relief flushed through Zane, and he wondered when Ty’s approval had come to mean so much. He relaxed and let out a slow breath. He wanted Ty to know that he could trust his partner and that Zane cared enough about him to make an effort he hadn’t made before to earn that trust. If Ty was going to love him, Zane wanted to at least be worthy of it. “Good,” he repeated quietly, drumming his fingers again to loosen some of the remaining tension, inexplicably happy to have made Ty smile.

  Ty looked down at Zane’s right hand briefly before taking it back up with both hands and pulling it toward him. He leaned forward and kissed Zane’s fingers, as if thanking him for the effort. Then he looked back up at Zane and smiled widely. For perhaps the first time Zane could remember, Ty wasn’t blushing after such a display of affection in public, and his eyes weren’t seeking out anyone who might be watching them. All his attention was focused on Zane.

  The smile was catching. They probably looked like idiots, sitting there grinning at each other, but Zane couldn’t have cared less.

  Ty didn’t say anything, just took his napkin and put it in his lap as he continued to watch Zane affectionately. Zane reflected upon the fact that if Ty looked at him like that more often, he’d be putty in the man’s hands. That was more than a little scary, especially because it hinted at emotions within himself Zane hadn’t yet found the courage to consider. He cleared his throat and thought that with Ty at his side, he might find that strength sooner rather than later.

  “Happy New Year,” Zane offered, lifting his glass for a toast.

  Ty touched his glass to Zane’s. “Happy New Year.”

  Looking at his partner sitting across from him, Zane thought it might just be his best year yet. He was looking forward to it.

  Check out this exclusive sneak peek at the sequel to Fish & Chips

  DIVIDE & CONQUER

  By Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

  THE blinking light on his phone drew Zane’s attention away from the report he was trying to parse. He always muted his phone when he was in the office, especially at times like today when the whole team—like schoolkids in a little pod of desks shaped like the Pentagon, he thought wryly—was stuck slogging through their casework.

  He was sitting with Michelle Clancy, Scott Alston, Fred Perrimore, and Harry Lassiter, the other members of their extended Bureau assignment team. Still, it could be a call from one of the other departments, a contact, or another agent. So Zane slid the cell out from under a pile of folders and thumbed off the key lock as he looked at the screen. It was a text message. Frowning a little, Zane hit the key to open the message.

  Whats proper workplace etiquette for picking up computer and tossing out window? Open window first or break glass?

  Zane blinked and read the text again. Then he focused on the number and realized who’d sent the message. He sighed and set his phone down, going back to his report. It wasn’t a message that needed an answer. His partner wasn’t more than ten feet away, sitting at his desk, staring at his computer screen and tapping the same error key on his keyboard repeatedly. If Ty Grady wanted a response from Zane, he could just open his mouth and speak. When Zane glanced at him, he saw Ty sit back in his chair and cock his head at the computer. He’d stopped typing, and he looked listless and frustrated.

  Ty’s computer never worked the way it was supposed to. The team joked that he had electromagnetic pulses going through him, because no matter what he touched, the machine nearly always messed up. The computer, the printer, the fax machine, sometimes even the automatic faucets in the bathrooms. They never worked correctly for him. He also hated paperwork with unusual passion, so it made it doubly funny.

  Zane looked down at the files spread across the desk in front of him. He could sit and do detail-crunching all day; it appealed to his analytical brain. Ty, however, made no apologies for being bored by paperwork. He was definitely a man of action. Zane usually tried to at least send him out on errands, but today there wasn’t even that to throw in front of him. With one last glance at Ty, Zane went back to reconciling suspected criminal bank account transfer data connected to a series of kidnappings.

  Several minutes later, the light on his phone blinked again. Zane stopped typing as he looked at the phone and then across the desks at Ty. He didn’t appear to have moved, and his phone was nowhere in sight. He wasn’t looking at Zane, and there was no hint of a smile on his lips like there would have been if he’d been up to something. Zane had seen that smile too many times to miss even a hint of it. He picked up his phone and saw the second text message. Same phone number. He debated not even looking at it; he wasn’t sure he wanted to encourage Ty to distract him from work. Then, after a moment, Zane shook himself. There was no reason to be so seriously uptight about this. He activated the phone to read the message.

  The last 3 calls on my phone are for backup and pizza and sex. In that order. Cant decide what that says about
me.

  Zane almost forgot to repress his smile. Last night Ty had called him to say he’d ordered pizza and that Zane should pick it up on his way over. They had intended to watch some baseball in front of Ty’s big-screen TV, but spring training ball wasn’t enough to hold Ty’s attention for long. After the pizza was gone, they’d wound up in front of the TV all right… doing something entirely different than watching it.

  Zane sniffed. He very purposefully did not shift in his chair as he set his phone down without answering or looking up at his partner.

  Maybe he’d pick up dinner tonight too.

  His phone almost immediately lit up again. Zane hadn’t even picked his pen back up. This time he glanced around the desks at their team members—none of them were paying him or Ty a bit of attention—before he poked at the phone to read the message.

  You realize I have free texting plan right?

  Obviously, ignoring Ty wasn’t going to work. But Zane pushed away the phone, determined to do his level best. Simply because the struggle would amuse Ty, if he were being honest with himself. And keeping Ty amused was good for the rest of humanity.

  The phone lit up again, and when Zane’s eyes cut to look at Ty, his partner was leaning back in his chair, feet blatantly propped on his desk as he held his phone in his hands.

  Zane kept typing with one hand as he unobtrusively shifted his phone across the papers strewn in front of him so he could hit the button and read the message without drawing attention to it.

  Pop quiz partner. How many letters in the government alphabet?

  Biting his tongue, Zane tried to decide what the answer to that would be. It was 50/50 that it was a joke. He figured Ty was trying to break him now, to get him to react, maybe even to laugh. As he checked his peripheral vision, he could see Ty watching him, his head lowered just enough to make him look slightly predatory. Zane knew that look well too. Most people who didn’t know Ty were intimidated by the glint in his hazel eyes and the slightly malicious curve to his lips. But Zane had come to learn that Ty only wore that look when he was enjoying himself. And it made his clean-shaven, heart-shaped face that much more handsome, which irked Zane to no end. Irked and aroused.

  Just to egg him on, Zane ignored the message, went back to working on the reconciliation, and tried to build up the resolve it would take to not react to Ty’s next attempt to break his cool.

  The phone lit up again, and this time Ty had returned his attention to his computer when Zane surreptitiously glanced at him. Zane wondered how the hell Ty typed so fast on the itty-bitty phone keypad. He would have liked to have seen it, if it wouldn’t have spoiled their game.

  He made them both wait five minutes through a discussion of assets with Alston before he hit the key combo to open the latest text message.

  Answer: 19. ET went home on a UFO and the FBI went after him.

  Zane blinked several times at the screen as he kept a straight face, though by all rights, that one did deserve a laugh. Who’d have known he’d be tapping into years of undercover experience to hide that he was playing text games in the office? He tapped his pen thoughtfully on the ledger as he stared at it blankly. He was certainly distracted now. He suspected Ty knew it. But they’d both continue to enjoy it if Zane tried not to admit it. He wouldn’t have dreamed of goofing off like this at work a year ago. Hell, six months ago. But Ty Grady had done his damnedest to yank the stick out of Zane’s ass….

  The little message icon in the corner of his phone’s display began to blink, indicating he had yet another message. He hadn’t even seen Ty move. Was it possible to schedule these texts ahead of time? That would take quite a bit of forethought, but it was just the kind of plot Ty would favor. Zane shifted around his stack of folders, took a drink of coffee, and checked the message.

  You know you want to laugh.

  Score one for Zane Garrett. He looked up slowly, face composed, raising one eyebrow.

  Ty was watching him. He winked when Zane met his eyes, but he wasn’t fully smiling yet. He still wore that infuriating smirk. Instead of answering in any way, Zane sniffed and turned to his computer. That reaction would surely get another out of his partner. Besides, Zane was intrigued now to see what Ty would come up with that would be enough to get Zane to laugh despite his practiced control.

  He didn’t have to wait long for Ty’s next attempt. His phone lit up, and Zane was able to catch a glimpse of Ty reaching out to set his own phone on the desk. Zane deliberately waited a couple of minutes before turning in his chair to change out files and check the message.

  Did you hear about the guy downstairs who lost his left arm and left leg in a wreck? Hes all right now.

  Zane stared at the little screen really hard for a long moment before he was able to shake his head ever-so-slightly and turn away from the phone.

  He slowly looked around at the rest of the team, wondering how none of them had caught on. Did they really pay so little attention? Or was it that they weren’t at all surprised to see Ty texting someone, and they just didn’t connect him with his partner? Zane knew Ty received about half a dozen text messages on a normal day from various people, but Ty rarely checked them or responded when he was working.

  Zane deliberately shoved some files into his outbox and did not look in Ty’s direction. He turned his attention to a conversation between Clancy and Perrimore about calling a judge for a search warrant, but he was hyperaware of his partner.

  He heard Ty’s chair squeak as he moved. Ty’s chair always squeaked because he was so damn hard on the thing, always moving around and fidgeting. His chair stayed broken and noisy, just like his computer. Zane’s phone lit up again, and he keyed it with his right hand while answering a question from Clancy.

  When she turned away, he finally glanced down at the phone.

  What do you call a monkey in a mine field? A baboom.

  This time Zane had to close his eyes to keep his reaction under control. He had to admit: that one was funny. When he opened them, he deliberately turned his chin to look right at Ty in an open challenge.

  Ty’s feet were still propped up, and he was leaning one arm against his desk, fingers strategically covering his mouth as he shook silently. He was watching Zane, and his hand couldn’t cover the smile lines around his sparking eyes or the slight dimples that formed when he laughed.

  Damn, Ty Grady was a fine-looking man. Even more so when he was relaxed and smiling.

  Zane didn’t feel the urge to laugh anymore. Instead, he found his thoughts slightly more erotic, thinking about the man sitting several feet away and just exactly how fine-looking he was, both in and out of that suit. Zane pulled himself toward his desk in the rolling chair, just to get his lap under cover. Then he offered Ty an angelic smile.

  Ty shook his head and bit his lip to stop his silent laughter, though the dimples were still there as he grinned. Zane stared after him for a few moments, thinking about just how amazing it was when Ty smiled or laughed and his eyes lit up and the hard shell melted away from him.

  Ty waved his hand at Zane in apparent surrender as he turned his chair to face his own desk again, still shaking his head and laughing.

  Zane doubted that was the end of it and expected another text message within a few minutes, but Special Agent Scott Alston chose that moment to stand up.

  “Time to meet with McCoy,” he said to Ty and Perrimore.

  “Have a good time, guys,” Clancy teased as she sipped at her melting smoothie.

  Ty stood with a decent amount of grumbling and fanfare, making a show of gathering his files and his suit coat and getting his gun out of its drawer to slide it into his holster. Zane tidied a file, set it aside, and opened another as he watched Ty discreetly. “Say hello for me,” he said smugly. He knew that the only thing worse than paperwork, in Ty’s opinion, was a multi-departmental meeting where he was expected to sit still.

  “Don’t break anything playing solitaire,” Ty shot back as the three of them headed toward the elevators.
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  Zane let the smile pull at his lips as he tapped his fingers on his phone and watched Ty walk away.

  TY HAD his eyes closed, massaging the bridge of his nose as he leaned his elbow on the arm of his chair and slumped slightly. He was listening. Quite attentively, to his everlasting chagrin. But he could listen with his eyes closed.

  He was pretty sure he, Alston, and Perrimore had all been summoned to this meeting by mistake anyway.

  So far they’d been over the escalating violence in the city, in particular a nasty case of arson in which a second explosion had been rigged with the express purpose of injuring or killing firefighters. Everyone was up in arms about it, including Ty. There would be a memorial for the slain heroes next week.

  But while escalating violence could possibly be in Ty’s job description, arson certainly wasn’t.

  Next they hit on a bank robbery that had “professional job” written all over it. They’d caught a break publicity-wise with that one, since it had happened on the same day as the arson tragedy and hadn’t received much press yet. The White Collar dude whose name Ty could never remember was told to look for similar robberies in neighboring states over the weekend. Something that organized had probably been run before somewhere and would surely be run again. Soon.

  Weekend assignments. Awesome.

  And bank robberies weren’t Ty’s job either.

  Then the agenda moved on to the negative image the FBI was being painted with of late and several avenues the PR people had come up with to nip it in the bud.

  None of which had much of anything to do with Ty, so he still wasn’t exactly sure why he was supposed to be here at all.

  “So,” Special Agent in Charge Dan McCoy was saying, “we’re going to give them what they want so they’ll get off our backs for a while. And Grady, the next time you and your partner want to blow something up, at least pretend you’re sorry afterward, got it?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ty said as he opened his eyes and shifted to a slightly less outwardly miserable position. He wasn’t sorry, though. That fax machine had deserved what it got. And Zane had laughed his ass off.