You Do What You Have To - 72

 

While Robin and the Marshals talked, Alex told Micky and Falcon all about his "interrogation", as he put it, by the police. "And there was some dude from the FBI who wanted to know everything about everything."

 

"So I heard," Micky replied. "I'm proud of you for being willing to do that."

 

Alex shrugged. "I owe those bastards for what they make guys like me do. And anyway, I promised you I would." He bounced excitedly. "I'm going to have a house all to myself. Well except for the dudes who'll be there to keep me safe. I can watch all the TV I want and eat good and that one—" he pointed to one of the Marshals, "—said they'd get me a gaming system and…and…" He ran out of steam suddenly, looking afraid as he asked Micky, "They won't let that Mac bastard get his hands on me again, will they?"

 

"Nope. They'll make sure that doesn't happen. I promise."

 

"What about you?" Alex asked, looking worried. "You know stuff too."

 

Micky ruffled Alex's hair. "I'm very safe here."

 

"And he's not going anywhere until after the cops arrest Mackenzie," Falcon added.

 

Alex grinned, glancing at Robin before saying to Micky, "So he's got you under house arrest? That should be fun."

 

"Alex, honestly," Micky said.

 

"It will be," Robin said as he joined them, obviously having overheard the conversation. "We'll play chess and checkers and do lots of reading and…"

 

"Uh-huh, right." Alex looked as if he didn't believe a word Robin had said.

 

Robin winked at him. "Truth."

 

"Not."

 

"Alex," one of the Marshals said, "it's time to get going."

 

"Okay." Much to Micky's surprise, Alex hugged him, saying, "Thanks for—well, you know—everything."

 

"You're welcome." Micky hugged him back. "Take care and behave."

 

Alex snorted. "Have you looked at those guys? I step out of line and they'll beat my ass. Well, not really," he added quickly when one of the Marshals harrumphed. "Can I call you?" he asked Micky.

 

"I don't think that's allowed, is it?" Micky looked at the Marshals.

 

"I'm afraid not, Sir. No calls, no emails—not if we're going to keep him safe."

 

"Figured as much." Micky leaned down to whisper to Alex, "They didn't say anything about smoke signals."

 

Alex grinned. "So I'll use the barbeque grill and…" He sobered, hugging Micky, then Robin and Falcon. "I guess…I'll see you guys sometime."

 

"You know it," Micky replied. "When all this is over we'll have a real barbeque, not one for smoke signals."

 

Alex laughed, then—joining the Marshals—returned to the car. As it drove away, Robin put his arm around Micky's waist. "He's a good kid."

 

"Yeah, he is. With luck he'll be put in a good foster home, once it's safe. He deserves at least that."

 

"Don't worry," Falcon said. "We'll make certain it happens. For now, though, I'm going to head home."

 

"Falcon, thanks for…everything," Micky said.

 

"Not that I did much, but you're welcome." Falcon gave Robin a fast, careful hug. "I'll see you soon, I'm sure. Just remember the doctor's orders. Don't overdo things."

 

"Never," Robin replied, laughing when Falcon rolled his eyes before he headed to his car.

 

As they watched Falcon drive away, Robin said, "Alone at last. Now what to do, what to do?"

 

"Eat," Micky told him. "I, for one, am starving. After that? A game of chess?"

 

"Ri-ight. Do you even know how to play?"

 

Grinning, as they went back inside, Micky replied, "It depends on what you mean by 'play'."