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Fair Enough
There's nothing more to say
You closed the doors today
You chose to walk away
Fair enough
You won't see the tears I cry
Spare me your sad good-byes
Let's keep this cut and dry
'Cause if my love can't stop you
Words won't make you change your mind
I took a chance to love you
You broke my heart this time
Fair enough
This lesson I have learned
Someday the tides will turn
And you will cry
And if my love can't stop you
Words won't make you change your mind
I took a chance to love you
You broke my heart this time
Fair enough
Someone leaves someone stays
Someone's lost but who's to say
You risk it all to walk away
Fair enough
The sun will shine again
Somehow my heart will mend
And I'll be fine
And if my love can't stop you
Words won't make you change your mind
I took a chance to love you
You broke my heart this time
Fair enough
|
I take a seat on the couch and stare into the fire I have reignited,
mug of coffee still in my hand. You have gone home, but I know you will
return, and then we will have to talk. I sigh and sip at the cooling brew,
tasting nothing but bitterness. Images of yesterday's events relive in
my mind over and over again, and I ask myself where I have failed, have
failed you. I remember you standing there in the light of the streetlamp
and you were looking so lost, I could feel the icy crust around my heart
melt. And I called you back. Later I took my quilt and put it on the floor,
lighting candles, serving wine. I have no clue why I did it. I remember
you sitting there, leaning against the couch, and you looked like … I can't
describe it, but when you opened your eyes and gazed up at me, I knew I
could have asked anything I wanted of you and you would have given it to
me. If I would have wanted to seduce you I could have done it, easily.
All it would have needed was my hand sliding down a little further, explore
a little more – like the soft skin of your neck. All it would have needed
was me intensifying our kiss, exploring your neck, maybe nibble your earlobes,
my hand sliding under your shirt … you would have melted under my fingers;
I know that.
But I didn't do any of it.
You would have moaned and writhed and returned my ministrations, and
you would have done far more than just that. You would have opened up under
me, literally, your hands would have roamed over my body, and maybe you
would have begged me to love you.
But I didn't initiate any of this.
Afterwards we would have cuddled together, spent and sated, maybe you
would have kissed me oh so sweetly again, and I would have pulled you close
and would have felt your naked body snuggled against mine. And we would
have fallen asleep together, waking up in the morning with a feeling of
– what?
But I didn't set this chain of events in motion.
I remember sinking down on that quilt at your side, and I remember your
eyes on me. I remember how I was drawn to you like the proverbial moth
to the flame; I remember stretching out my hand and the feeling of your
skin under my fingertips, the satiny smoothness of your lips when I kissed
you. Or your hands in my hair as you pulled me close to you for another
kiss, sweet and gentle and tender, like yourself. I remember feeling your
heartbeat under the palm of my hand when you leaned into me, your head
on my shoulder as you relaxed against me and I wrapped my arms around you,
holding you close for the first time.
And I knew.
I didn't seduce you then.
I saw it in your eyes this morning when you rolled onto your back and
kissed me good morning, and I sank into your arms. I realized it. And I
could have cried.
I sent you away; sent you home, because of what I saw in your eyes.
I didn't do it yesterday, and I won't do it today, or tomorrow.
I can't do that to you.
Because you love me.
God, I hate my life …
Why did I ever allow myself to fall into a career in law enforcement?
+ + + + + + +
I'm still grinning when I come home, go straight to my bedroom and my
closet. First impulse is just grab something and throw it on, but then
I hesitate. Want to look good for you, want to make you look at me the
same way you did the other night – despite whatever you have on your mind,
whatever you might want to tell me.
I chose some clothes I'm fairly certain you'd like, higher quality
without being uncomfortable. Thinking about it, you gave them to me last
year's Christmas. I ponder about what you said while I slide into the soft
cashmere pullover.
You asked what I expect of you? What kind of question is that, though?
I don't expect anything, I just want you to – yes, to love me, look at
me like yesterday, and be there for me like I want to be there for you.
Just like it is said, good times and bad times, in health and illness,
to share. Yes, I want to share myself with you and hope to get a glimpse
of you in return. Speaking of it, I glance at my watch, better get going.
I make a short stop in the bathroom and grab my shaving kit and toothbrush.
One never knows.
"You're gonna be late again, Buck?"
I whirl around and theatrically grab my chest.
"You wanna give me a coronary, kid? Wear a bell around your neck, will
ya?"
Running gag between us, but this time JD HAS startled me. He chuckles
and eyes the bag in my hand.
"Ez okay?" he asks, and I blink in surprise until my mind gets a catch.
"Yeah, don't worry. He's fine."
"So why're you goin' back then?"
"There's something we have to discuss, kid. Don't wait on me."
"Uhm-hm." He nods, but I can see the wheels behind his forehead running.
"I'll explain later, okay? He's waiting for me."
"All right. Have fun."
"Thanks."
And I head back onto the snow covered streets, notice the glittering
ice crystals in the sun, the crispiness of the air. .
It's one hell of a winter's day in Colorado.
I make it to the condo in no time. You are at the door, and there's
that look again, for a fleeting moment. A split of second, before the seriousness
takes place again. You step aside and I walk past you, throwing my coat
onto the hooks at the side of the door.
"I'm here, Ez."
All I want now is to reach out, want to take you in my arms, wipe out
that look of utter sincerity off your face and replace it with something
more … affectionate? I don't know what's on your mind, what you want to
talk to me about… hell, I'm not sure I want to know either. I reach out,
and for a whole minute you allow me to hold you before you shrug out of
my embrace.
"It's time you know something about me, Buck."
You step away. Looking out of the window, avoiding my eyes. Nope, I
don't like this, not at all. I see you inhale deeply before you continue.
It doesn't seem to be easy for you.
"Buck, do you know why the FBI let me go?"
I watch your back tense up with that question, wonder what sort of
answer you might expect from me.
"Chris asked for you, as far as I know. Why?" I ask carefully.
"Do you know about my – err, reputation?"
Uh-oh …
"Heard some rumors, don't believe half of it. What … "
"I don't know which of all that gossip you heard but – a part of it
is correct."
What?! I step up to you, reach out to grip your shoulder, but you step
away.
"Ez? What are you telling me here? That you are corrupt? You've taken
blood money? You've beaten up your team leader when he confronted you with
the results of some surveillance? Because that's what I've heard. I know
you better, WE know you better now …" I know I'm babbling here, but hey,
it's EZRA we're talking here. You silence me with a sharp gaze.
"Stop! The answer is - no, no and – yes. I've beaten up my team leader."
What???
"What?!"
"The man landed in hospital with a broken nose, two broken ribs and
some serious bruises."
I feel like you just hit me over the head with a baseball bat. I swallow,
try to get a grip on that … I do know the FBI was glad to see your back
when you left, but I never thought … you simply aren't the violent type.
So there must be more behind that.
"Why?"
I see you sigh deeply. Bingo, there's more.
"I'll tell you. I'd be grateful if you'd not interrupt me. Can you
do that?"
I nod. O-kay …
"You know I prefer men over women. It has never been a problem until
I joined the FBI. I … felt attracted to a colleague of mine. It wasn't
like I fell for him, it was simply attraction. I could have lived with
it, no problem, but I made the mistake to let it slip, let it show. He
asked me head on if I was gay and interested, and said yes."
"Did he … "
"No, not him. He just let me know thanks but no thanks, and that he
would leave for another division. Not because of me, he had a job offer
he wanted to take anyway. But … let me put it this way, the rest of my
esteemed colleagues didn't believe it. He was very popular around, so they
believed he left because I did something … immoral. They … didn't take
it too friendly."
"Did they … "
"Nothing too serious at first. Things like missing files, crashed computers,
undelivered notes or misplaced messages. Then a little pushing around in
the restroom, a little calling of names, the usual. I received letters,
one day I found my car … well, it doesn't matter. Later on I received phone
calls and at the office things began to get a little out of hand."
"And your boss?"
"Didn't say anything, at first. Then, one day, I was working late he
called me into his office. That was when I beat him up."
"For what reason?"
I see you swallow and your eyes narrow. It's not pleasant, I can tell.
"He tried to rape me."
I hear you gasp in shock at my disclosure, of course. I didn't expect
you to do otherwise. And I remember …
//"Ah, Standish, glad to see you're still at work. There's something
I need to discuss with you considering the Needham case. You have a minute?"
I must have started slightly at the voice of my superior. I was still
at my desk, trying my best to retrieve a miraculously disappeared file
and rubbing my left wrist absentmindedly, where an unfortunate accident
that had happened today most certainly will leave a bruise. I sigh
when I hear Ingram's voice. I don't like the man for whatever reason; call
it gut feeling or whatever. He is my boss, and truth be told, the man is
good. Nice to everybody, even to me, successful in the field, good leader.
Though, since Garrett has left the team and the whole mess has started
the only thing the man has done is stand aside and pretend not to be aware
of it. Sure. God, how I wish I had been more careful, hadn't let Garrett
know how I felt.
"Standish … would today appropriate?"
The moment I step into Ingram's office I get a bad feeling. My boss
is a big man in his early forties, and as a field agent he is in good shape.
I know very well he doesn't like me for whatever reason, but he has never
regarded me that way – cold, somewhat calculating, nor bullying me. Not
good.
"What is it you wish to discuss with me, Mr. Ingram?"
He walks past me and my stomach lurches. Something is definitely amiss
here – and then I hear the lock snap.
"Mr. Ingram?"
"Don't want no disturbance here, Standish. Confidentiality and all,
you know."
"Of course … " I make a careful step backwards. He follows.
"So, you made Mason leave?"
"Excuse me?"
"Good man. Sorry to lose him."
"Mr. Ingram, I don't see what this has to do with the Needham case."
"Nothing, Standish. I'm talking 'bout Garrett Mason here. Heard you're
the reason he left in the first place."
"I assure you I wasn't …
"Maybe you could think of something to make it up to me, hm?"
I don't like this.
"Whatever are you talking about, Mr. Ingram?"
"Heard you like to take it up the ass, Standish. Heard you wanted Mason
to shove it up your ass."
Uh-oh. My eyes widen in both disbelief and awareness. So that's where
this discussion is heading. There is a word for it – sexual harassment.
But – my boss? Nice and friendly Connor Ingram??
"I'm not listening to this any longer … "
It is amazing to see how a man as big as Ingram can move so fast. Before
I realize it he had made his move and has thrown me across the room. I
find myself laying face down on his desk and his weight is pulling me down,
his rough hands on my body – no way!
I see red.
When I come to my senses ten minutes later my big oh so strong and
self-confident boss is nothing more than a whimpering bloody mess on the
floor.//
I see your expression, and I know exactly what it means.
"I refused to be a victim. I never was, I am not now and I never will
be."
"Ez … I'm sorry, but … "
"Don't be SORRY for me, Buck. As I said, I'm NOT a victim."
"Why didn't you report it in?"
"Report what in? The assault? Then I would have had to answer lots
of questions I didn't want to answer. Ingram didn't report me either. But
IA investigated, though. Without Chris's request I think I would have lost
my job.
And before you ask, no, I have not the slightest idea why he did it."
//I looked into a pair of inquiring hazel eyes as I am introduced to
you.
"Agent Standish, as of the first of the next month you are hereby transferred.
This is Agent Larabee, ATF Denver. He wants you. You are with him now.
Good luck."
I shake your hand, and notice the hard lines on your face, the firmness
of your grip. Yes, I have heard of you and your team. You are known as
one hard dog, so maybe this is considered punishment. And you asked for
me?
"Why?"
"I need an undercover agent. I think you will fit in."
I never received another answer. I didn't ask for one. Just moved to
Denver.//
"I do."
I say it quietly, for I can see that you are far away now, far away
from me. I don't want you to drift away again, not after I just found you,
after … after last night. The memory of the kiss, of how it felt, of how
you looked at me, comes up again in my mind, and I know that's exactly
the way I want you to look at me in the future. I want to love you, protect
you – though I know you can handle your own business quite well – it's
just that I want to be there for you. Always. I open my mouth to say it,
tell you I love you, tell you everything when you lift your head and look
at me.
And I can see that you're gone.
+ + + + + + +
God, Buck, don't look at me that way, please. Don't make it harder than
it already is.
It has to be done.
"Buck, by kissing you yesterday I made a mistake. I'm deeply sorry,
but … it's not worth it."
"Not worth it?" you echo. I gaze at you, and of course you look hurt.
You don't understand it.
"The result. It's not worth the effort."
"Are you afraid of the others?" you ask calmly. "Don't be. They are
our friends, they wouldn't … "
"Wouldn't they?"
I can see that the simple question strikes you. Why can't you see it,
Buck?
"How much would you be willing to bet on that? You have told me about
Chris's reaction when you both were younger. How do you think would our
esteemed leader react now? He'd be the one to answer interrogation when
the shit hits the fan, Buck. Do you believe he will be standing on your
side then? What about JD? Sure, he's young and open minded, but to get
it rubbed under one's nose that the man you have looked up to, respected
as your older brother, lived together with for several years, is into men?
Would you really want to see it in his eyes, the shock, the disgust, when
he flinches away from your innocent slap on his shoulder? Would you want
to experience the way he won't be able to look into your eyes when he tells
you he moves out? And Josiah? Are you willing to bet your money that he
won't start to preach? Tell you about being with a man is immoral and against
the law of nature, god and men? Would you rely on Vin watching your back
as closely in the next bust as he had done in the last one? Or Nathan,
that he tends to any injury as carefully and thoroughly as he has done
in the past?
I wouldn't if I were you.
And that's just OUR team."
You stand there as if I had just whipped you. It nearly breaks my heart
– who am I kidding? It DOES break my heart.
Why don't you see it, you big mule-headed …
I don't want you to see that abhorrence in your best friend's eyes,
don't want to see you getting pale all of a sudden when you open your desk
drawer in the office, don't want you to have to look around before you
enter the underground car park after having worked late, I don't want to
see the pain in your eyes when you have to scrub off the word 'fagot" from
your car, I don't want to find you all curled up in a corner of the restroom
where you 'accidentally' slipped and hit the tile wall with your head –
and the tip of a colleague's shoe with your groin, several times. I don't
want to have to hurry to hospital where your gunshot wounds would be treated
after the unfortunate failure of your com system so your call for backup
would have never made it through.
I don't want you to be alone, Buck. Never.
God, I could use a stiff drink.
"You see, it's not worth the effort, Buck."
"Hell, Ez, it's worth everything … "
"What? What is worth everything, Buck? You are my friend and you are
a damn attractive man. I wouldn't mind to have fun with you, but that's
just it."
NOW I have your attention.
"Ez, that's not true, and you know that. After last night … you know
that I love you."
God, you had to say it. Why did you have to say it?
"Buck, I am attracted to you, yes. And I'd bet my money you'd be fun
to be with, but one moment of ... it's not worth the result, believe
me."
"I don't."
"So, what do you want, then?"
"What I want? I want you to look straight into my eyes, Ezra, and tell
me that you don't love me, that you don't want me. Don't … don't need me.
"
And I do.
"I do want you, Buck, I bet you're one hell of a fuck. But what
about you?
Would you really want me? Would you want to go to bed with me
every now and then, release some tension? Would you want to have a blowjob
in the restroom throughout lunch break? Would you spread your legs for
me and plead me to take you, shove it up your ass, fuck you through the
mattress? In the full knowledge that I. Do. Not. Love. You!
I don't think so."
Sweet Jesus, after I just gave you such a low blow you are still standing
there, looking at me, both shocked and hurt and … oh no, Buck, please don't
come near…
"Go home, Buck."
As long as I can let you …
But you are coming closer and I am rooted to the spot, all I can do
is watch you bend your head and shiver slightly while your lips claim mine.
Just that, nothing more, and it's like … I'm melting, sliding into your
arms and feel your hands running up my back, your breath against my ear.
"You are one hell of a liar, Ezra Standish, I give you that. But your
body cannot lie."
And then you turn, I hear my door open, your sad voice.
"What makes you think YOU wouldn't?"
My door clicks shut.
You are gone but your voice still hangs in the air, my lips still tingle
from your kiss.
What makes me think I wouldn't?
Nothing.
Because I would. Hell, I do. I do want you, Buck Wilmington, more than
I ever wanted something, or someone. Do I need you? Maybe. But there's
one thing that you need, more than you realize now, and that is your family.
Your brothers.
Even if I admitted it, gave in to my feelings for you, you would lose,
and that's something you don't see now. We're federal agents, and there's
a reason they don't like couples working together in the same team. Even
same sex couples, hell, especially homosexual couples. Either you, me,
or we both would have to leave the team. And the fact that we both are
gay in their eyes doesn't help either, so which team would want you? Or
me, for crying out loud? Losing them would kill you from the inside, slowly,
but as surely as if you'd been poisoned.
No, I can't do that to you.
Because I love you, too, Buck Wilmington.
But sometimes love just isn't enough.
Is it me, or is it getting cold in here?
The End
