Shadow Men – 73 – Anders and Grant

"Will you quit hovering," Anders growled. "I'm going to be fine. Corrie got it cleaned up and now I'm on antibiotics."

Grant looked at him with a shake of his head. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"And have you worrying more than you were? I'm surprised your neck doesn't have a permanent crick in it from trying to watch in every direction while you were driving."

"Well I had to, just in case."

"I know, I'm teasing." Anders moved carefully to get more comfortable on the bed. "Where's Nicky? I expected him to be hovering too."

"Corrie took him with her to grocery shop. She didn't want him waking you."

"Sooo…" Anders grinned lasciviously.

Grant snorted and said, much to Anders' frustration although he knew he was right, "You're in no condition to do anything yet other than sleep and eat."

"Want to test that theory?" Anders replied anyway.

"Not in the least."

"Ahh, well, there's an idea blown to hell." Angrily Anders turned his face to the wall and closed his eyes.

"Don't," Grant said softly. "You misread what I meant."

"How so?" Anders muttered. "It seemed perfectly clear to me."

Grant pulled up a chair, probably, Anders thought, because that was as close as he was willing to get to him. "Tell me something. How often do you come on to men you have to protect, or even ones you work with?"

Anders turned his head to look at Grant. "Honestly?"

"That would be nice, yes."

"I've been doing this for, hell, eleven years now. I'm no saint and I have needs, especially when things finish up and I have to get rid of all the tension, if you get the picture. But I've never met someone I wanted as more than a passing fuck buddy at best…"

"Guess that answers all my questions."

"May I finish?" Anders asked tartly when Grant interrupted. "There are two more words to that sentence… Until now."

"Why should I believe that?"

"Because…"

"That's not an answer."

Upset that he didn't get it but unwilling to explain, Anders closed his eyes again. "It's all the answer you're going to get. Now if you don't mind I'm unbelievably tired still, so I'm going to go back to sleep."

When he heard Grant get up and leave, Anders wanted to call out to him, to make him come back so he could apologize for the way he had acted. But what would he be apologizing for? For trying in his less than articulate way to tell Grant he'd become important to him? That, in spite of all his teasing, the underlying truth was he'd begun to care for him? He wouldn't believe it, so why try? Better for both of us that he's free to leave now. The problem was, Anders knew it wasn't the truth, at least not for him.

Shadow Men – 72 – Anders and Grant

Anders grinned when they turned onto the lane leading up to the house. "Home, sweet home."

"Not literally, I hope," Grant replied, realizing he had no idea if Anders actually had a place to call home.

"No, but close enough at this point."

"Do you..?"

"Have a home? I've got a couple of places I stay between jobs, yeah."

Grant had the feeling from the tone of his voice Anders wasn't going to elaborate so for the time being he dropped the subject.

As the house came into view in the headlights Grant thought he saw someone pull back a curtain in a second floor window. He drove around to the side of the house, parked and was about to get out when a voice said menacingly, "Don't move. Keep your hands on the steering wheel where I can see them."

"Fuck," Anders growled.

"Told you we should have let them know we were coming," Grant pointed out as he did what Steele ordered.

"Yeah, yeah." Anders inched his window open so he could call out, "It's just us, damn it."

"Well hell." Steele lowered the rifle. "Don't you know better than to just drive up here with no warning?"

"That's what I told him," Grant said with a smirk as he got out of the car.

Anders was out by then and came over to join them.

"You look like death," Steele said as he looked Anders over with a critical eye.

"He refused to take his next dose of pills when he was supposed to because he didn't want to be asleep when we got here and…" Grant shot a look at Anders, "he won't let me check the wound. He says its fine but I'm beginning to doubt it."

"It is fine," Anders muttered, not looking at either of them.

"Get in the house, now!" Steele ordered. "I'll get Corrie to check it out."

Looking a bit like a kid who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Anders headed to the back door, closely followed by the others. He sat on the sofa when Steele pointed to it then Steele went up to get Corrie. She came down, sleepy-eyed, and told Anders to take his shirt off. Grumbling that he was fine, he did.

When she removed the bandages, she hissed in a breath. "Fine, my ass." The whole area was red and inflamed. "Didn't you get any antibiotics?"

"Actually, he didn't," Grant put in before Anders could reply. "The doctor said all he had on hand were pain pills."

"Why the hell didn't he give you a script then?" Corrie asked angrily.

"He did," Anders mumbled. "But no way was I going to get it filled. It would have been a red flag and you know it."

"He's got a point, unfortunately," Steele pointed out as he joined them.

Corrie nodded. "Let's get him downstairs and I'll see what I can do."

When they entered the basement room Grant immediately asked, "Where's Rafe?"

"Upstairs where he belongs," Steele told him with a smile. "He's still not mobile but at least he's not cooped up down here any more."

Corrie ordered Anders to sit on the edge of one of the beds. "Pills," she said tersely when he had.

"In the car," Grant replied. "I'll get them." He was back moments later with the bottle and a glass of water.

Corrie took the bottle, read the label and dumped three pills into Anders' hand. He cocked an eyebrow but took them.

"As soon as he's out I'll deal with the wound," Corrie told the others. "Grant, go get some sleep, you don't look much better than he does."

Grant wanted to protest but he knew she was right so he left. When he got to the second floor, he immediately went to check on Nicky. His son was curled up under the covers, just the top of his head showing. Grant sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, eased the covers back some and smiled. "You look like an angel," he whispered before he kissed Nicky's forehead.

Nicky stirred and opened his eyes sleepily. "Daddy!" Seconds later his arms were around Grant's neck. "Missed you, Daddy."

Grant hugged him back tightly. "Missed you too, a lot."

"Where's Anders?"

"Missed him too, huh?"

"Uh huh."

"You'll see him later, I promise."

"Are we going home now?"

"Well not right now," Grant said, ruffling his hair, "but soon, I hope."

"Good." Nicky yawned widely. "Tomorrow?"

"In a couple of days probably. Now lie down and go back to sleep."

When Grant yawned as well, Nicky said, "You too, Daddy."

"Planning on it." Grant waited until Nicky was settled, drew the covers back over his son and kissed his cheek. He smiled when he realized Nicky was already asleep again. He went to his own room where he quickly stripped and fell into bed.

Shadow Men – 71 – Anders and Grant

"I'm going stir crazy," Grant proclaimed two days after he and Anders had returned to the apartment. He'd tried to kill as much time as possible by cleaning it up, much to Anders' amusement.

"Why bother," Anders had said at one point. "I might not use this place again for another six months or more. It'll just get dusty and what have you in the interim."

"Probably, but still…"

"Yeah, I know. I'd help but…"

"You're not to do anything to aggravate your shoulder," Grant had said firmly. It had been his mantra every time Anders had so much as tried to do something other than sit and watch, when he wasn't so dosed up with pills that he was sleeping.

Now Anders growled, "You're going stir crazy? I've been round the bend for the last day but since I can't drive a car or the bike…" He sighed deeply, laying his head back on the sofa to stare up at the dingy ceiling. "You missed some cobwebs."

"Screw the cobwebs, we're leaving. Strange as it may seem, I know how to drive so all we need is a car."

"Going to go out and steal one?" Anders asked with a smirk.

Grant sat down beside him. "How do I do that?"

There was a long pause as Anders stared at him in surprise. Then he said, "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Well if I can do it basically one-handed."

"You can." Anders proceeded to explain what he'd have to do and what kind of car to pick. "But you're not even trying this until after dark, and if you find one where some idiot's left the keys in the ignition, that's even better."

"For sure. Does that happen often?"

"Not often enough," Anders told him with a grin.

Four hours later Grant decided the fates must have been on his side. The neighborhood around the apartment building was…well, as far as he was concerned it was downright scary, but needs must where the devil drives, as his father used to say. He tried to look confident while he walked up and down the streets in search of a vehicle that fit Anders' criteria. He was about to give it up as a lost, and very stupid, cause on his part when a car turned a corner, swerving back and forth across the road, then pulled into an empty space, its wheels half on the curb. The driver staggered out and made his way unsteadily to a house where he immediately vomited into the bushes before collapsing on the stoop.

Taking a chance, Grant strolled by the car, glancing inside. Yes! he mentally cheered as he opened the door to slide in. It reeked of alcohol but he could live with that as the keys were in the ignition. A minute later he was driving away and five minutes later he pulled into the garage, parked next to the bike, and hurried up to the apartment.

* * * *

After Grant told him how he'd gotten the car, Anders insisted they pack up and get out of there immediately. "No telling when the man might sober up enough to realize his car's missing and actually do something like call the cops."

Packing up was easily done and they were out of the apartment half an hour later. Anders had refused to take his pills, saying he had to remain alert enough to tell Grant how to get out of the city using side streets.

"We're not taking any chances," he told Grant. "I don't know what's taking her so long to file those indictments but…" He shrugged his good shoulder.

"Hopefully making sure there're no loopholes the Senator can squirm through," Grant replied as he paused at a stop sign.

"Probably, yeah. Left at the next corner, then hang a right two blocks up."

Grant did as he was told. Ahead of them was a fast-food place that was still open despite the late hour. Without asking, Grant pulled into the drive-up lane. "What's your pleasure?" he asked Anders. Anders smirked. "In food, as in what's on the menu," Grant muttered.

"Spoil sport."

"Yeah, yeah." Grant shook his head then placed their orders when Anders told him what he wanted.

They ate as they continued out of the city. Anders finally decided it was safe to take his pills. In Grant's opinion he should have an hour ago since he hissed in pain any time Grant had taken a corner a bit too sharply.

After giving Grant explicit instructions on which highways he should take, Anders got into the backseat where he could lay down, popped two pills, washed them down with the last of his soda and was soon asleep.

Shadow Men – 70 – Anders and Grant

"I opt we take our things and find a decent motel," Grant said as he  took a look around the apartment.

"Not a good idea yet," Anders replied tersely. "I hate to point this out but the Senator's still out there somewhere. He may or may not know yet that we handed the information over to our friend but either way it's unlikely he's stopped looking for us."

"Damn it!"

"Yeah, I know. With any luck she'll move swiftly to get an indictment against him. Then, hopefully, he'll have more important things to think about than us." Anders started to leave the room, saying over his shoulder, "Until then we still stay under the radar."

"Got it." Grant looked at the sofa, figured that's where he'd be sleeping at least for the night, and called out, "I don't suppose you have extra sheets and a blanket hiding here somewhere."

Anders stopped. "What for?" Grant pointed at the sofa. "Why would you want to sleep there when I have a perfectly good bed?"

"Because..?"

"That's not an answer, Grant." Anders smirked a bit when he echoed Grant's words of a few hours ago.

"It works for me."

"Damn it, don't be an idiot. After I take the pills the doc gave me I'll be out like a light. So get your ass moving. If you're shy I think there's a couple of pair of sweats in the dresser. You can sleep in one of them."

After a moment's hesitation, Grant nodded. "I'm not shy by the way," he muttered as he followed Anders into the bedroom.

"Me neither." Anders began to strip, albeit slowly and with care not to move his shoulder any more than necessary.

Grant watched him for a moment, admiring both his body and to his surprise his attitude. Then, with a shrug of acceptance he eased off his shirt and sat down on the edge of the large bed to take off his shoes and socks.

"Be back in a couple, I need to clean up a bit," Anders announced.

"Remember, you can't get the bandages wet."

Anders snapped out, "Trust me, Grant, I've been through this a time or five, I know the routine."

"Yeah, sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I'm tired and in pain but that's no excuse to bite your head off."

"I'll survive."

"Counting on that," Anders said softly as he closed the door behind him.

Grant cocked an eyebrow at that as he settled back on the bed to wait for Anders to finish.

* * * *

"No nightmares tonight."

"What?" Grant tried to figure out why Anders would be telling him not to have nightmares. Then he tried to figure out why there was something lying across his waist that felt… He rolled over to stare into Anders' amused, if sleepy, eyes.

"As far as I can tell, although I was pretty knocked out by the drugs, you didn't have any nightmares."

"How long have we been sleeping?"

"It's mid-afternoon, so for quite a while."

"No wonder I have to piss." Which he did, but it was also an excuse to move before he did something he probably shouldn't, like kiss the knowing grin off of Anders' lips. As he moved away and sat up, he heard a sigh. Ignore it. And ignore that too, he told himself when Anders ran a fingertip lightly down his back. Getting up quickly he headed to the bathroom.

After emptying his bladder he considered his options as he stared at himself in the mirror. He could stay in here; maybe take a shower until Anders got tired of waiting for him to come back. He could splash water on his face, then go back and get dressed. Or he could do what he really wanted to but knew he shouldn't; climb back into bed and let what happened happen.

The decision was taken out of his hands when he heard Anders swearing a steady stream of curse words. Without thinking he slammed the door open, not certain what was going on but fearing the worst. It was, in a way. Anders was doubled over, his face dead white. Grant was beside him in a second, asking what was wrong.

"Moved too fast," Anders told him, his voice tight with pain.

Grant carefully helped him get comfortable again then got him his pills and a glass of water.

When he'd downed the pills, Anders grumbled, "There go my plans for the next half- hour."

"Only half an hour?" Grant lifted one eyebrow in amusement.

"Didn't want to wear you out first time around."

"Umm hmm, sure. Maybe when we're both back to normal we can test that theory."

Anders actually looked surprised. "You serious?"

"Maybe, probably, I guess." Grant trailed a finger along the line of Anders' jaw, smiling when Anders turned his head and tried to nip it. "Behave."

"Don't seem to have much choice right now."

"I know." Impulsively Grant leaned over to kiss him. It was a gentle kiss but held a promise that there might be more in the days to come. Anders returned the kiss, and the promise, before the drugs kicked in and his eyes closed.

Shadow Men – 69 – Anders and Grant

Just as Grant had predicted, it had taken a lot of fast talking to get past the attorney-general's secretary. When they had, they'd spent two hours with the woman. First they'd had to explain who they were and then they told her about Petya Goranov's murder. Once she got over the shock of that, as Petya had been a friend of hers from long before Goranov's death, Anders gave her the papers.

She read them, page by page, her mouth and then her face tightening in anger as she did. Finally she looked at Anders and Grant. "All I can say is the Senator will be handled in a way that will make quite certain he will never be able to dirty his office or our country again. Thank goodness the Colonel decided to take his own life although…" She looked pensive for a moment. "One has to wonder if the Senator saw the writing on the wall and decided to take care of things himself."

"Quite possible, I guess," Anders said seriously.

"Thank you both for bringing these to me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'd better get to work doing something about the information they contain."

"We did it!" Grant smiled gleefully as they walked out of the building. "Now, finally, I can get my life back."

"Yeah, Nicky will be glad of that." Anders strode across the plaza in front of the building to the street. "But right now all I want to do is crash for a week."

"Right now you're going to go get that wound taken care of," Grant told him when he caught up to him.

"Yeah I know. Next on the agenda." As they approached the parking garage, he stopped. "Guess we cab it. No way they'll let us in there."

Grant saw the police presence and nodded, glad for the second time since the shoot-out that Anders had insisted they leave the weapons safely hidden in the car. If they hadn't, they'd never have gotten past security to see the attorney-general.

They found a cab, which took them to a part of town Grant would happily have avoided if the doctor Anders knew didn't ply his trade in one of the buildings there.

After Anders' shoulder was taken care of and he'd paid the doctor what Grant thought was an obscene amount of money, they returned to the apartment.

Shadow Men – 68 – Anders and Grant

"Just what the hell were you planning on doing?" Anders growled as Grant helped him make it to the elevator. "Beat him over the head with your cast after you stuck the knife in his side?"

"So…my aim was bad. It would have been better if someone hadn't decided to have a shoot-out at the OK Corral just then."

"Yeah, well shit happens."

"So I see." Grant shifted his grip around Anders' waist to avoid getting even more blood on his clothes from the wound on Anders' shoulder. "You need a doctor."

"Not 'til we get rid of the papers. I'm tired of lugging them around."

"We're just going to leave the bodies there for the cops to find?"

"Yep." The elevator doors slid open and they got in. "You got my knife back so we're good."

Grant stared at him and almost laughed. "Have you taken a look at yourself? You look like a bloody grease-monkey, literally."

"Yeah, well, I guess we'll have to do something about that."

"Like?"

"Go back to the car. I've got some extra clothes in the trunk." Anders pushed the button to take them up.

"What if…?"

"I doubt there will be anyone there. Even if there are a couple more of them they won't expect us to be stupid enough to return to the car."

"Guess they're wrong."

"Yeah, guess so."

* * * *

"You still look like hell, but at least you're not covered with blood," Grant said a few minutes later as they returned to the elevator.

Anders was now in well-worn jeans and a T-shirt with a jean jacket over top. Lacking any bandages, Grant had cut up a second T-shirt with the knife to make a compress, which was held in place on Anders' shoulder with duct tape he'd found in the trunk.

Grant's dark turtleneck hid the blood he'd gotten on him from helping Anders. Anders suspected he felt sticky and undoubtedly was wishing there had been something else in the car trunk for him to change into. But there wasn't so he'd just have to deal with it.

Grant pushed the button when the elevator doors closed and leaned back against the elevator wall with a deep sigh.

"You did good," Anders told him as he joined him against the wall.

"Thanks." Grant turned his head to look at him.

"Very good." Anders looked at Grant, intending to give him his usual pat on the shoulder. Suddenly and impulsively, he kissed him. It wasn't much of a kiss, more a quick brush of his lips over Grant's. Then he pulled back. "Sorry, shouldn't have done that," he muttered.

"Why not?"

"Because…" Anders had no intention of saying more but apparently Grant was bent on getting him to.

"That's not an answer, Anders."

"Because it's not something you want. Or I was taking advantage of the situation. Or because I just needed some human contact for a moment. Take your choice," Anders snapped out. "Satisfied?"

Grant reached past him to push the stop button just before the elevator reached the first floor of the garage. "One, there was no 'situation' as far as I can see. Two, what's wrong with needing honest contact with someone else. Three, maybe I did want it. I'm not saying for sure, but…"

Anders was beyond surprised when Grant leaned forward to plant a firm kiss on his mouth then started the elevator again.

The doors opened seconds later and Grant stepped out. "Now, shall we get this damned thing over with?"

The job, yeah. But the kiss, it was just the beginning if I have anything to say about it.

Shadow Men – 67 – Anders and Grant

"Scenic route, I take it," Grant commented as Anders made yet another turn onto a primarily residential street, driving the car which had been in the garage at the apartment building.

"Just making damned certain we're not being followed."

Grant did his best to hide the shudder that ran through his body. He was surprised when Anders reached across the car's console to pat his thigh.

"With a whole country to search I doubt he's zeroed in on our being here. I'm just being careful since it is his home territory."

"I understand."

"But it doesn't make you feel any better." Anders kept his eyes on where he was going—and his hand on Grant's thigh.

"I'll feel better when the papers are safely in her hands and not before."

* * * *

"How far away are we?"

"Two blocks." Anders stuck the parking garage sticker on the car's dashboard then got out. "We'll walk down."

Grant knew he meant to get out of the parking garage. It was a no-brainer they'd be walking to their destination once they got to the street.

They'd made it from the fourth level to the second when Anders suddenly grabbed Grant's arm and dragged him roughly between a car and a dark SUV. "Get down and stay down," he ordered even as he pulled his gun.

"It won't do any good, Anders," a voice called out. "You might as well give it up now and save a lot of car owners from filing insurance claims."

Anders remained silent. He pointed to the rear end of the SUV and Grant inched his way back. He heard something slide toward him and almost called out a warning before he saw a sheathed knife, which he quickly picked up, unsheathing it, gripping it in his good hand. It wouldn't do much good in a shoot-out but nonetheless it did make him feel better.

"Anders," the voice called out again. "All we want are those papers. Then you and Mr. Eastman are free to leave."

As Grant watched, Anders slithered under the SUV until he was out of sight. A cold calm enveloped Grant then. Carefully he moved between the front of the car parked next to the SUV and the garage wall. When he reached the car's far side he peeked out cautiously. A man's shadow darkened the space between that car and the one beside it. The man himself stood about a foot out from the cars, his concentration, as far as Grant could tell, on the SUV. He held a gun at his side.

Grant wondered what the chances were he could make it to the man before he knew he was there, figured it was ninety-nine percent likely he'd be spotted, and with infinite care made his way across the narrow gap until he was behind the next car, which, he realized, was parked in a corner beside the garage wall. With nowhere to go but forward he had no choice but to do so.

When he got to the end of the car he very carefully looked around it, praying the man's attention was still on the SUV. Do or die, or is that and die, he wondered when he saw the man's back was to him and prepared to stand and attack.

Three shots rang out in succession.

Shadow Men – 66 – Anders and Grant

"Get your ass in gear, I'm leaving in ten with or without you," Anders barked out.

Things had been tense when the two men finally woke up just after dawn. Grant felt as if he was walking on egg shells as he made a quick trip to the bathroom to take care of business and then came back to get dressed. From the way Anders was acting, he suspected he felt the same way but with a touch of anger mixed in.

Or frustration, it was hard to tell which under the circumstances.

Grant shook his head while he checked to be certain he'd left nothing behind. Then he slung his backpack over his shoulders, grabbed his helmet, and stepped out of the motel room.

"Damn it, Grant, haven't you learned anything in the past few days?" Anders growled from behind him. "You don't just walk out a door without making certain there's not someone on the other side with a gun trained on you."

"Well there wasn't, was there?" Grant wanted to be angry as he swung around to look at Anders but the look of worry on his face did much to mitigate it and he felt guilty instead. "Sorry. Next time I'll remember."

"Good." Anders smirked then, just marginally. "Guess since you're still alive, it's safe for me to come out."

He did, getting on the bike after putting the saddlebag where it belonged. Grant climbed on after him, wrapping his arm around Anders' waist, and they were off.

* * * *

"Just where are we headed? I thought we were going to her office."

"Patience," Anders replied to Grant's question. "We're making a side trip to somewhere we can leave the bike and our gear."

"Somewhere safe?"

"No, I thought we'd park ourselves next door to the Senator's house."

Grant shook his head. "You're smirking right about now, aren't you?"

"Big time," Anders agreed.

If he hadn't known he'd probably hurt himself as much as Anders, Grant would have smacked him with his cast.

A few minutes later they were in an alley behind what Grant presumed were apartment buildings. Anders pulled up to a row of garages behind one of them, told Grant to get off, then followed suit and lifted one of the garage doors to wheel the bike inside and park it beside an small, older model car. He locked the door, and the bike, opened the door to the building and ushered Grant inside.

There was the strong odor of cooking in the hallway that led to a flight of stairs going up. Grant's stomach rumbled, which had Anders shaking his head and saying, "Are you ever not hungry?"

Grant flipped him off then followed him up three floors and down to end of a dingy hall. Anders paused by the door with his head tilted before he unlocked it. Moments later they were in an apartment, which made the hall look clean and neat.

"This isn't a safe-house or whatever you call them, is it?" Grant asked.

"Nope, because the Senator undoubtedly knows all of them thanks to the Colonel. I use this place only in emergencies."

"The last one must have been five years ago," Grant muttered as he gingerly put his pack down on a dust-covered table at one side of the room.

"Five months ago actually, but this is a big, industrial city so…" Anders shrugged as if saying that explained everything. "Go change into something a little less road-worn and then we'll get going." He pointed to a door, which Grant found out moments later led to a small bathroom. Rust marks stained the sink and shower but when he turned the water on it ran clear, for which he was thankful. He found towels in a cabinet above the toilet, stripped down, did a quick wash-up then redressed in clean jeans and a dark turtleneck, because that was the only type of shirt he had whose sleeves would fit over his cast.

He came out expecting to find Anders waiting to get in. He wasn't but Grant located him by the sound of running water from the kitchen. Before he could join him, Anders came into the main room. He looked Grant over, nodded then said, "Okay, let's do this."

Shadow Men – 65 – Anders and Grant

Someone was shaking Grant. He woke with a start, his hands fisted defensively in front of him.

"Hey, it's just me," Anders said quietly. "You were having a nightmare."

Grant pulled away, frowning as he tried to remember it. Though why he'd want to remember struck him as stupid. But he did want to—and he did remember. It had been a mishmash of Martin's death, someone chasing him who he couldn't seem to escape or hide from, and being tied down while the 'someone' tried to turn him to a pulp, starting with his wrist. It all had been vividly portrayed in black and white and blood red.

With a shudder, Grant nodded. "A bad one."

"Want to tell me? Sometimes it helps."

"It was…just very violent."

"I sort of got that when you started screaming."

Grant winced. "Sorry."

"Hey, no problem. Think you can get back to sleep again?"

With a small smile Grant said he thought so. Anders patted his shoulder before he got up to return to his own bed. It was then Grant realized the man was totally naked and had one fine ass. He turned his eyes away quickly but apparently not quickly enough because he heard Anders chuckle.

"Not like you haven't seen one before," the man said.

Then Grant heard the bedsprings squeak and the sound of Anders pulling up the covers. Relieved, Grant rolled onto his side, his back to Anders, and tried to fall to sleep again. When he finally did there were no more nightmares. Instead he had a dream. It started with him and Martin in their own bed then slowly Martin's image morphed into Anders and the very vanilla sex that Grant and Martin had normally practiced became heated and erotic with the Anders of his dream.

He woke so hard he ached, more than glad it was still night as he inched as quietly as possible from the bed and then silently started toward the bathroom.

"Need some help with that?"

Grant resisted turning to look at Anders. After a sharp shake of his head he made it to the bathroom and as silently as possible, biting back any sounds from his release, finished off what his dream had started.

* * * *

Anders watched Grant walk away. He would have growled aloud, his frustration with the man at the moment was so great, but he was damned sure it wouldn't do anything but make Grant even more uptight, if that were possible.

He was well aware of exactly what Grant was doing, could imagine his hand on his cock as he stroked himself to completion. "Stupid man," he whispered and then was uncertain which one of them was. Grant for avoiding the chance for some real sex and a connection with someone other than his dead partner, or him for even thinking it might be an option. But he was for damned sure going to say something he suddenly decided. It wasn't in him to remain silent. So he stared at the bathroom door and waited.

* * * *

After he turned out the bathroom light Grant opened the door a crack, praying that Anders had gone back to sleep. He was rewarded with the sight of the man leaning against the headboard, his eyes locked on the door. At least, Grant was glad to note, he had the covers drawn up to his waist.

"You can come out now," Anders said tartly. "I'm not going to jump your bones."

"Didn't think you were," was Grant's terse reply as he tightened the last remaining towel around his waist and stepped into the room.

Before he made it to his bed he was stopped by Anders' next words. "There's nothing wrong with wanting some tension release. We've both been through a lot the last few days. It doesn't have to be personal."

"I think that's what clubs are for." Grant was surprised at the sneering tone of his voice.

"I doubt they have one in this burg."

"Then I guess you just suffer or take care of the problem yourself." Grant made it to his bed by then and managed to get under the covers without losing the towel until he had.

"Like you just did? Naw, I'll pass. I prefer my sex man on man, not hand on man."

"Then you're shit out of luck 'til you find a willing one. I'm not into hit and run."

Anders snorted out an amused laugh. "Your language is definitely deteriorating. What happened to the uptight man who would no more have sworn than…than…?"

"What makes you think that? I'm not some prude but I do have a kid so I watch my words."

"Duly noted. Back to the discussion at hand."

"There is no discussion. I'm not letting you fuck me. End of story."

"So you're a bottom, huh? Good 'cause I'm a top."

"Of course, you are." Grant slid down onto his side, resting on his elbow as he studied Anders. When Anders cocked an eyebrow, Grant shrugged. "Just wondering if it would be worth it. Probably not." Rolling onto his stomach he buried his face in the pillow to hide a snicker when he heard Anders mutter, "Fuck you, too". He suspected it was followed by a raised middle finger but didn't bother to check.

Shadow Men – 64 – Anders and Grant

"Nice bike," Grant commented after Anders had parked it and come over to join him.

"That's all you can say, 'nice bike'? Look at it. It's top of the line, Grant."

Grant had to admit it was impressive, and it looked more comfortable than the one Anders had when they first met. "Okay, great bike."

"Damned right it is." He ruffled Nicky's hair when he came over and asked if he could have a ride. "When we get back, I promise you will. But now we have to get going." He glanced at Grant. "You packed up?"

"I didn't really unpack much, so yes."

"Same here. Let's get our stuff and hit the road."

Fifteen minutes later, after giving Nicky hugs and kisses and getting the same back, Grant put on his helmet and carefully got onto the bike. Corrie had insisted he keep his arm in a sling while on the bike and had come up with one from the medical supplies that were always kept on hand. He'd groaned but understood her reasoning.

"Ready?" Anders asked, his voice coming through the helmet mike.

"Ready," Grant replied after he'd wrapped his good arm around Anders' waist.

* * * *

It was just getting dark when Anders turned off the highway onto a side road. "We're going to spend the night at a motel so we're fresh when we get to Chicago," he explained when Grant asked.

That was fine with Grant. Though the ride itself had been easy enough, all things considered, his wrist was aching badly. He was also hungry and told Anders as much.

"Let's find a motel first, then supper," Anders replied.

It took a while before they found one that suited Anders. It was on the outskirts of a small town, set back from the road at the edge of a small lake.

"Planning on catching our dinner?" Grant asked once they were in their room, which faced the lake.

Anders snorted as he tossed the saddlebag he'd now returned to using on one of the beds. "Hate fishing. We'll eat in the motel dining room."

With a nod Grant dug his pills out of his backpack and headed to the bathroom for some water to wash them down. When he returned he saw Anders watching him worriedly. "I'm fine," Grant told him.

"Okay, if you're sure. Let's go eat."

* * * *

Supper went swiftly as Anders was almost completely non-verbal. Grant finally decided his mind must have been totally wrapped up in what they were going to do once they arrived in Chicago, although when he asked for details about that, all he got in return was a terse "Working on it."

So, when they got back to their room Grant immediately grabbed what he needed from his backpack and went to shower. When he came out again he saw Anders sitting on one of the beds, dressed only in his jeans, his eyes locked on the television.

It apparently took Anders a moment to realize Grant was standing there with just a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked Grant over, shook his head, got up and headed to the bathroom, saddlebag in hand.

Trusting much? Grant wondered, knowing the all important papers were in the bag. With a shrug he dropped the towel by the side of the bed, got in, and after pulling the covers up turned his attention to the television. By the time Anders returned, also towel-wrapped and drying his hair with another one, Grant was almost asleep. That didn't stop him from opening his eyes just enough to take a long look at Anders.

"Mind if I turn the TV off now?" Anders asked, even as he picked up the remote from the table between the beds and did so.

"Guess not," Grant replied with a soft snort. Then he turned on his side and soon was dead to the world.