Shadow Men – 47 – Anders and Grant

"He's going to be all right with your leaving?" Anders asked as he watched Corrie take Nicky downstairs with Steele following behind them.

"Not sure 'all right' is correct but he seems to accept it's going to happen."

Anders nodded. "Then let's get ready to go."

"So soon?"

"The sooner, the better. I've got a backpack you can use for your clothes and what have you."

Grant ran his tongue over his teeth and winced. "Wouldn't happen to have a spare toothbrush, would you?" His hair was short enough that he could tame it with some water and his hand, which he'd done when he got up this morning, but his mouth… Finger brushing just didn't cut it.

"We do. That and toothpaste." Anders headed upstairs. Grant followed and for a second found his eyes watching the tight ass in front of him before he shook his head. Down boy, neither the time, nor the place and for sure not the right man even if…

Anders went into his room while Grant waited at the door. A moment later he returned to hand Grant a plastic-wrapped toothbrush, some paste, and a well-used backpack. "I'd like us to get on the road within the hour, assuming Steele's packed and ready."

"Got it." Grant returned to his room to immediately brush his teeth. Then, feeling much more human, he began to pack. Not that it was hard. He was wearing one of the pairs of jeans Anders had bought, which left two more plus a couple of T-shirts, turtlenecks, and three pairs of socks. He'd been amused to find Anders had neglected to pick up any underwear and had wondered if that was because the man didn't wear any, and so it hadn't crossed his mind that Grant might want some. Oh well it's not going to kill me to go commando for the time being.

He'd just finished packing when he heard Nicky's footsteps on the stairs. A moment later he burst into the room then pulled to a stop when he saw the backpack. For a second it seemed he'd tear up again but whatever had brought him upstairs apparently took precedence.

"Rafe is really sick," he announced. "Corrie feeds him through a tube and he won't wake up and Steele is really, really sad and I bet they're like you and Papa, well before…"

"They are," Grant replied softly. Then to get both their minds off the past, he said, "So now you know why Corrie needs your help."

"Uh huh, and I can do it, she said. Maybe I'll be a doctor when I grow up instead of a cowboy."

Grant chuckled. "Maybe you will." He zipped the backpack, picked it up then suggested they go back downstairs.

Anders met them in the living room. He had a backpack, as battered as the one Grant now carried, slung over his shoulders. A large duffle bag sat on the sofa. Grant didn't even want to know what was in it although he thought he had a pretty good idea. Once again he wondered how the hell he'd ended up in circumstances that required taking along a full arsenal of weapons just to make a trip to Manhattan.

Corrie and Steele came upstairs fifteen minutes later. Nicky immediately gravitated to her side, which Grant knew was his son's need for the security she offered at the moment. Steele carried a backpack as well. It seemed, to Grant, heavier than one would expect so he figured it contained some weapons as well as the man's clothes.

"Ready?" Anders asked Steele.

"Ready," Steele replied, his voice low and taut.

"Then let's get moving."

Grant held up one hand then knelt. Nicky raced to him. Grant wrapped his arms around his son. "Behave and do everything Corrie tells you to."

"I will, Daddy, promise."

Grant kissed his forehead. "Love you."

"Love you too."

They hugged again, Grant stood, ruffled Nicky's hair, and then said to Anders, "I'm ready."