A Matter Of Necessity Page 4

  "I'm really sorry this is happening to you, Shawn. I mean, we all know deep cover is hell and you can never tell what might happen. But something like this!"

  How perfectly lovely. Just what he needed. Still, it could be far worse. At least David was being supportive to Shawn. He pushed himself up, weary to his core, so he could let them know he was there. He wouldn't compound problems by eavesdropping.

  "God, to be placed in a situation where you have to...do something like that. With Alex!"

  Alex sighed. Just as he always imagined it would be. His hand weighed several pounds more than it should as he lifted it to the latch.

  "But, hey, look at it this way." The hearty sound of flesh slapping something, probably a bracing clap on the shoulder in an attempt to cheer. "We always said Alex had a good chance of ending up as someone's bitch. I just never thought he'd be yours."

  Nausea roiled up, and Alex grabbed the wall to steady his weakened knees. They'd actually discussed... He'd always known he wasn't a close friend to either man, but to speculate on whether or not he'd... The door swung slowly open free of the latch.

  David impacted the wall at the other end of the short row of stalls, Shawn's forearm pressed to his throat, hard fingers locked on that too-pretty face. "Don't you ever call him that! I even suspect you've used that term to describe him and I'll break your jaw." Shawn snarled his threat just an inch from David's face. A switchblade in his hand and he'd be Shawn Wyatt, arms runner, again.

  "Hey! It was just a joke; I didn't mean anything by it. I was trying to make you feel better. Alex is annoying, but he's okay. What the hell is wrong with you?" David tried to free himself from the bigger man, turning as he did so to come face-to-face with Alex.

  David stilled and the color rushed from his face only to return in violent crimson.

  Shawn followed his line of sight and gave a slight smile. "I'm heart-broken. That's what's wrong. Alex doesn't want me any more and it's killing me."

  Alex's jaw sagged, his mind going blank. Shawn just admitted that in front of David?

  The smile on that boyishly handsome face grew. "He doesn't believe I'm serious about the two of us." Shawn let David slide from his grasp and sauntered to where Alex stood paralyzed. "But I am. See, I had some time to think while he was off hiding from me. And I've decided I'm not giving up. I'll give him some time, but I'm not giving up." He ran his thumb along Alex's cheek. "You don't look so good, beautiful. You really need to stop insisting you're so damned straight and let me take care of you once in a while."

  Alex's skin tingled where Shawn touched it. Please, don't let those smiling lips brush his. He'd come apart and end up a gibbering mass on the bathroom floor. Luckily, it wasn't lips but the pad of a broad thumb that traced his lips.

  "God, I love your mouth."

  Alex squeezed his eyes closed. This was not happening. Not in front of David. It was some cruel, ugly joke. He'd never forgive Shawn for this. Ever.

  He felt the warmth of Shawn's breath on his lips and turned his head so the kiss fell on his cheek.

  "So damned stubborn." Laughter lurked in the words. "It turns me on, but if you keep it up, I'll have to do something about it. And you know I can." Another kiss on the cheek. "You're such a great dork sometimes, sweetheart. Luckily I find it endearing. You're going to make me say it, aren't you?"

  "Don't!" Alex's whisper was urgent with denial. Not in front of David! Don't declare you want my body, that you want sex, in front of David!

  "I love you. Even if you sometimes have roos loose in your paddock." He winked. "That's all there is to it." He moved away to pat David's cheek. "Cheer up, mate. I'll get him to stop being all Boston, and before you know it we'll be pashing on like this bit of trouble never happened." He moved to the door. "Oh, I did mean what I said about calling him my bitch. Especially when the reverse is actually the truth." He sauntered out.

  David stared at the door as it slowly closed. "He's crazy. Howling mad insane." It was obvious he still thought Shawn was kidding around.

  Alex could only nod. Love. Not just desire but love. Something deep inside felt warm and alive for the first time in two weeks.

  * * * *

  The fresh cup of coffee settled carefully on his paperwork, pretty pink nails on a shapely hand patting it before they withdrew. "You look like you need that." Terri smiled down at him. "No offense, but you look like death warmed over. About five times. With the microwave set for too long." She settled on the edge of his desk.

  He could prevaricate and try to convince her he was fine. But it just seemed like too much work. "Yes, well, I feel rather as I look." Three days of knowing his colleagues were seeing him at some of his most intimate moments didn't make for a hearty appetite or the ability to sleep.

  "Bummer." She surveyed him carefully. "The skinny supermodel look? Really not you. So..." She pulled her other hand from behind her back. "One mini frosted double chocolate chocolate chunk bundt cake." She dropped it beside the coffee. "That's the one you, Shawn, and Mark consider one step below ambrosia, right?"

  "It is indeed." She'd actually taken the time to stop and gotten the little breakfast delicacy for him. Incredible.

  "Good." She pushed up and headed back to her desk.

  He watched her settle behind her computer, wonder warming him. He looked down at the coffee and bakery bag. "Terri?"

  "Hmm?" She looked up, already settling into whatever her computer was telling her.

  "Thank you."

  Her smile lit up his corner of the bullpen.

  * * * *

  The note appeared after the lunch which Terri insisted he take, accompanying him to assure he ate. It seemed the women in the office had decided to form some sort of care squad and designated him as their first project. Even Maddy joined in, setting a large cookie on his blotter midway through the morning. "Say one snotty thing about my cooking and I'll eviscerate you."

  "I wouldn't dream of such."

  His ex sniffed and stalked back to her desk. Still the proof of something--he wasn't entirely sure what--lay on his desk smelling of brown sugar and raisins. Whatever it was, it made him feel a tad less likely to throw up at any moment.

  And now a piece of plain white cardstock folded over once lay where the cookie had. He knew the handwriting the instant he opened it. He'd seen it on hundreds of reports. Shawn. In the rather elegant script that never failed to surprise him in its neatness, the Australian's message was spelled out precisely.

  Your roses are red.

  Your eyes are blue.

  I don't have your talent for poetry,

  So I'll make do with "I love you."

  He stared at the other man in disbelief.

  Shawn grinned. "Yeah. Single worst poem ever written. But a bloke's got to try." He pulled his wallet from his pocket and extracted a bit of paper, heavily creased and worn from being carried about. "Not nearly as good as that." He leaned out as far as he could and tossed it onto Alex's desk.

  Alex unfolded it with care, the creases already going cottony and fragile as if it had been taken out and folded up too many times. He knew it immediately. A bit he'd composed in a fine fit of romantic angst on a stormy day and tossed away. And apparently Shawn had retrieved it and kept it for months now.

  Shawn made a self-deprecating motion of his head. "I can see that little rundown park outside our window whenever I read that. Just as clear if I'm looking down on it." He leaned over again, reaching for Alex, wanting its return.

  Alex passed it back and watched it folded with care and tucked away again. "You pulled that out of the trash?"

  "I told you I liked it."

  Alex hadn't believed him. Shawn's smile said he knew that, too.

  * * * *

  The poem was only the beginning of a campaign Alex was unsure whether to label a carefully calculated seduction, or the most compelling series of spontaneous shows of affection he'd ever seen. Taking a page from the Terri Anderson Instruction Manual on The Care of Too Thin and Overly
Stressed Agents, his first cup of coffee and some tempting tidbit waited for him each morning. Only these came from Shawn. The little silver-wrapped Hershey kiss with each one proved that. Another joke from their time undercover. Shawn declared the only thing that could compare to his kisses were chocolate ones. And his were still better.

  On the eighteenth, it was the addition of a small box with a pair of the finest pruning shears available. And a single red rose attached to a note that said, "Seven months and counting." An anniversary. Seven months since they'd first slept together.

  Alex wasn't sure if he should be touched or concerned. Just as he wasn't sure what he wanted. It had once been clear but now...

  Everyone knew what had happened. Or at least part of it. If Shawn continued this campaign, they'd soon know it all. Even David was starting to cast odd looks at his friend whenever Shawn leaned back to just spend some time staring at Alex. A thing he did at least three times a day. Alex no longer asked what the other man was doing. Being told twice Shawn was looking at the hottest thing in town silenced any questions.

  It didn't help that the glint in those so bright eyes ignited fire on Alex's skin. Or that Shawn developed the habit of standing at Alex's shoulder and leaning in to whisper compliments on his clothes...and to offer to remove them slowly and trail his tongue over everything he bared.

  The sight of Terri eating a hot dog one lunch hour prompted a purred suggestion so filthy Alex went rock hard and had recurring visuals for days. Dreams of Shawn doing everything he whispered filled his nights.

  He wasn't sure he could keep saying no. He wasn't sure he wanted to.

  Chapter 4

  * * *

  Alex tried to think of how many times he'd been in this particular courtroom. Seven that he could recall. He reviewed each case by naming the miscreant he'd helped arrest. The list was done too soon. That left him with the need to find a new question. Anything to distract himself from the coming testimony. From thinking of discussing the most intimate aspects of his life in front of strangers.

  His attention snapped to the proceedings when Shawn's name was called. He noted the simmering hatred on James Ronneker's face as his friend took the stand. Satisfaction lurked there as well. Of course, Ronnecker's revenge loomed. For an instant his hard-edged undercover persona surfaced in raging ire. Shawn's evaluation had been completely correct. Ronnecker was a twat and given half a chance Alex would grind the arms dealer's face into the floor.

  Alex watched amazed as Shawn sat at ease, a man who'd done this many times, as the judge reminded him even though this was a hearing, his oath carried the same weight it would in trial court. His answers to the prosecution attorney were calm, succinct, and relevant. He made the purpose of their sting clear to the whole court. His comfort didn't alter when Ronnecker's legal eagle, Martin Wilkins, rose for his turn and sank talons into the jugular. "What's your sexual orientation, Mr. Matthews?"

  Of course, the government's prosecutor objected and, of course, it was overruled. Proving Shawn and Alex were a couple of homophobic Nazis going after a gay man simply because of his perceived deviancy represented the whole purpose of this abuse of the judicial system.

  "Again Mr. Matthews... Oh, I'm sorry, that's Agent Matthews isn't it? You're an officer of the highest law, bound to protect the innocent." His suit's sheen was too bright under the lights. Tacky, overly ostentatious peacock insinuating Shawn set aside his oath to protect and abused the power invested in him instead! "So Agent Matthews, what is your sexual orientation?"

  "I'm bi-sexual." Shawn said it as if it were the most natural thing on earth. And maybe to him it was. He'd always had an ease with it Alex couldn't fully adopt.

  David gasped, but Ronnecker scowled. Satisfaction surged through Alex. That would teach the bitch to try such nefarious games of petty retribution on his Shawn.

  "Meaning you engage in homosexual activities as well as heterosexual ones." Attorney Wilkins wasn't winning any points at all for decency with Alex.

  "Yes." Again, just that easy, bland response. A kernel of pride sprouted. Shawn had layers he carefully hid, letting few know he had strengths and thoughts far beyond the light surface he presented.

  Ronnecker's attorney didn't like the uncomplicated answer in the least. "Prior to your investigation of my client, had you engaged in sexual activity with a man?"

  "Yes. Several times."

  David was nearly as white as Alex. By contrast the questioning attorney turned red all the way to the top of his balding head, his slightly protuberant eyes bulging in anger. "During the course of your investigation into Mr. Ronnecker's business activities, did you engage in homosexual activities?"

  "Yes."

  "With whom?"

  Alex drew a deep breath. The moment he hated had come.

  "FBI Special Agent Alex Ware."

  There, finally. Spoken and about to be entered into the public record. Alex looked down in surprise when Terri's hand came out to cover his. Gratitude for her support let him continue to face his lover across the expanse of the courtroom as embarrassment warred with anger and pride.

  "So you engaged in several sexual encounters with a fellow agent to worm your way into my client's trust. That way you could assure supposed evidence pointed to illicit activities."

  The bastard! If he tried to say they planted evidence, Alex might simply have to beat him to a bloody pulp, courtroom or not.

  "Naw. I did it because Alex is hot and I've wanted him for years. The other's just gravy." The faint grin on Shawn's face carried a satisfaction and sexual energy that tingled even in the heart of Armageddon.

  That effectively derailed the attorney's attack plan. Ronnecker motioned to him urgently, and he declared his questions for Shawn done. The Aussie was allowed to step down. David's gaze never left him as he made his way to the other agent's side.

  Shawn leaned forward to wink at Alex across David's chest. "You look really good today, beautiful. I like that tie. It makes your eyes blue."

  Alex was spared the chore of thinking of an answer to that which wouldn't sound utterly idiotic when he was called to take the stand.

  He stated his name, address, and employment for the record in the voice he reserved for court appearances and lectures. The trepidation lost in admiration of Shawn's testimony returned. How should he handle this? He didn't have Shawn's aplomb and ease with his still undecided sexuality. What did he look like to Judge Colfield and her renowned common sense? Was he a well-dressed socially adept man, or did his attention to sartorial detail bespeak the effete fob? Was his extensive vocabulary an indication of his education, or an affectation? If he crossed his long legs, would that be too feminine? Oh, God.

  Screw it. Considering what sort of questions he faced, stance and appearance weren't issues. Still he decided it would be best if he rested his laced fingers on the knee of his crossed legs. He also decided Ronnecker's attorney was a money-sucking pig, in addition to the lowest sort of excrement for the tactics he tried to use on Shawn. That made him a perfect match for Ronnecker. Alex rather enjoyed glaring at the arms dealer while he answered the prosecution's questions, confirming all Shawn has said. The stare hardened when the defense attorney rose for his turn.

  "Mr. Ware, what's your sexual orientation?"

  "It's Special Agent Ware."

  The attorney blinked for a moment and Shawn gave a snort of amusement. Yes, a pair of protectors of the innocent as the attorney had been so astute as to point out.

  "Of course. Special Agent Ware. What's your sexual orientation?"

  He was under oath. And Shawn's complete attention focused on him, waiting for the truth. Whatever that was. "I'm not sure. I'm currently working on the answer to that."

  That didn't please the fine example of the legal profession before him. "Prior to your investigation of my client, had you ever engaged in any homosexual activity? And by that I mean kissing, groping, flirting, or having sex with another man."

  "No." God, he hated the lawyer's little
smile, that indication the trap had been sprung and he'd walked into it willingly. He'd gladly wipe it away with his fist.

  "So until this investigation, you were a straight man. No indications at all that you might have any sort of attraction to your own sex. But during the course of building a case against my client you had sexual relations several times with Special Agent Shawn Matthews?" The lawyer lifted a stack of photographs, images pulled from the surveillance videos, no doubt.

  "I did." Over and over, passion and laughter and real affection surrounding him until he no longer knew who he was.

  "I'm sure such a thing must have been very trying for a man like you."

  There were shouts of objections, but Alex ignored them. He doubted they'd be sustained. So the attorney would pursue the sympathy angle, then. Try to pretend he knew what Alex felt and offer comfort for how difficult being forced to love Shawn was. The utter ass. Alex lifted his left brow just enough to put the encroaching ambulance chaser in his place. He was surprised when the judge refused to allow the line of questioning without more supporting evidence.

  "Special Agent Ware, have you engaged in any homosexual activity since the close of your investigation into Mr. Ronnecker?" The lawyer's stance said he already knew the answer.

  "Yes."

  Ah, Wilkins's surprise almost made up for how green David turned. "Who with?" Sharp now and disbelieving, his English suffering at the hands of his surprise.

  "Special Agent Shawn Matthews." If Alex focused on David passing out, would he avoid doing such a thing himself?

  "And the nature of this encounter with Mr. Matthews?"

  Soul searing need. A want so strong it left Alex weak. Breathing the same air as Shawn was an encounter. "We've kissed. We flirt. I, ahm... We're trying to work it out. To decide..." He couldn't order his thoughts.

  "Agent Ware, are you saying you want to continue your homosexual relationship with Mr. Matthews?"