Sonny:

I woke from a hazy, erotic dream about black men and breathed in my partner.  His back was to me, my face pressed into his neck where I was spooned up behind him.

Opening my mouth slightly, I kissed Rico's shoulder, savouring the sweaty taste of my lover.  He moaned softly, letting me know he was awake and willing. 

I glanced around, realising that I didn't have a clue what time it was.  He didn't seem to have an alarm clock around but the light outside the floor-to-ceiling window at the end of the room told me it was after sunrise, but only just.

When Rico shifted back, his tight ass rubbing against my cock, I decided I didn't care about the time.

Pushing myself up on one hand, I leaned over him, between his shoulder and chin.  "Morning, Gorgeous," I murmured, voice rough with sleep.  He beamed, turning his head to catch a sideways kiss.

"Sonny...."  We both froze in place.  We'd heard a sound from downstairs, a gentle clattering.

"Dammit."  Sliding out of bed, I pulled on my pants and watched Rico do the same.  He had the most beautiful, glistening erection.  Whoever was down there was in real trouble.  I took my gun from the holster where I'd dropped it to the thick carpet, and clicked off the safety.

Glancing at Rico, we worked out our strategy in silence and I headed for the stairs.

My bare feet on the stairs didn't make a sound.  Rico followed, the darkness swallowing him.

At the bottom, we stopped as one, listened, and heard someone at the far end of the living room.

Gun held up, I stepped around the protruding wall and aimed at our intruder's head.

Rico brought the lights on, dimmed to a low setting so that we wouldn't be blinded by the sudden glare.

"Izzy!  You miserable...."


Rico:

My beautiful lover was furious.

And I couldn't help but find it amusing.  We were standing there in our pants, both bare-chested, guns drawn.  Izzy was standing in my living room, unarmed, hands raised, looking terrified.

I think it was that look that stopped Sonny from tearing a strip off him and throwing him out, or simply calling the cops and having him arrested for breaking and entering.

"Izzy, what the hell are you doing here?"  I had to get in before my partner, who was still apparently considering shooting the little runt.

"'ey, man, I' sorry.  I didn' know I wa' disturbin' anything."

The meaning was clear, and Sonny almost exploded.  In two strides he'd closed the gap between he and Izzy and had the barrel of his Bren flush against the shorter man's temple.

I stepped in, putting my hand against the top of Sonny's arm, squeezing gently.  I couldn't resist letting it slide down the bare flesh.

"Easy, Partner."  I let my voice flow over him.  "Izzy's got the best of reasons for being here," hardening my tone, "haven't you, Izz?" 

"Yeah, man, course.  I wouldn' disturb you gen'lemen wi'out a good reason."

My hand followed Sonny's arm as it dropped, touching his hand as he clicked the safety back on his gun.

Backing off, we both stood, feet slightly apart, waiting.

"I tried the boa', but no one was home."  Sonny glanced at me.  Stating the obvious was not going to get him anywhere.  "Someone's tryin' to shoo' me man."

"Yeah, Izz.  Me."  Glancing at my partner, I was beginning to think about what we could have been doing right about then.

"I'm serio', Rico."  He did seem panicked.  "Someone's tryin'a kill me."

Next to me, Sonny bristled.  "Izzy...."

Something crossed his face then.  "Manny borrowed the car.  He' dead.  They torched it."

It knocked the wind from both of us.  Manny and Izzy had worked together - partners of sorts - for as long as I'd known Sonny's most infamous informant.

"Manny's dead?"  I heard the disbelief in my own partner's voice.

Izzy nodded.  "Yeah, man.  When I heard, I ran.  Someone came after me bu' I managed to lose him."  He gave us a shaky smile.  "No one knows the ci'y like me."

Sonny snorted softly, and letting the Bren hang from his fingers, he turned and headed for the kitchen.  A second or two later, I heard him speaking on the phone.

I moved to drop into my leather suite, motioning Izzy to do the same.

"Are you okay?" I asked him genuinely.

He nodded, listening to the snippets of Sonny's side of the conversation happening in the kitchen.

"I knew 'e'd 'el' me."

I smiled to myself, a thought occurring.  "How long have you known Sonny?"

Izzy frowned.  "Abou'... twelve year'.  'E's always been a bi'... 'ighly strung, you know?"

I knew.  It was what I loved about him.

"And how long's Burnett been around?"

I don't know what made me ask.  But something in Izzy's expression sent chills down my spine.

Sonny chose that moment to step into the living room, phone in one hand even though his call had obviously ended, gun still hanging from the other.

He sighed dramatically.  "Okay, Izz, let's go."  He came to stand close to me, lowering his voice.  "I'm taking him out to the boat.  If there's going to be a shoot out, I'd rather it happened there rather than here."  He had my complete agreement on that one.  "Castillo's calling Stan and Sammy to baby sit.  I'll drop him then meet you at OCB."

I nodded, and stood, catching his gaze and holding it for a moment.  Then he padded upstairs to pick up his clothes.  Hesitating, instructing Izzy to stay, I followed my partner.

He grabbed me the moment I reached the top of the stairs, covering my mouth with his, plunging his tongue between my lips.  I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him in place for a few long minutes.  I didn't care what Izzy thought.

"Sometimes," he whispered roughly in my ear, "I think you're the only thing that stops me from going insane."

I didn't know what to say to that.  I was his calm, he was my energy.  Not that I'd ever told him that.  Too spiritual for our Sonny.

He eased away from me, stole another kiss, and picked up his shirt from the floor.  "People are gonna think I slept in this," he grouched as he pulled it on.

"Better than them thinking you didn't."  I winked at him and he chuckled.  "Take care out there, Partner," I told him, "if Izzy really is a target...."

He nodded as he tightened his holster, replaced his gun and lifted his jacket.  "I know.  Castillo's got Trudy and Gina checking out the explosion."  I was impressed, at least we weren't the only ones to be rousted out of bed so early in the morning.

Bet we were the only ones who were in the aforementioned bed together.


Sonny:

Dressed, almost decent, I mooched downstairs and picked up my latest ward.  "Let's go, Izz.  You're off on vacation."

Herding Izzy into the kitchen, towards the back door, I hung back.  "I'll be at OCB within the hour.  See you there?"

Rico nodded.  "Absolutely, Partner."

Of course he'd be there.  He's always been there for me.  It blew my mind when I stopped to think about what Rico was to me, everything he meant to me.  How damn lucky I was to have found him, that he stole my boat that night.

One thing about that time in Lauderdale that I do remember, simply because the doc pushing me had made me remember, was the moment of recognition in the lighthouse.  I saw Rico and flashed back to the afternoon in the Caddy, after I'd shot a kid in a raid on a house.  I'd lost it during a meet, almost got us killed, and Rico had given me a real yellin' at.  I'll never forget what he said to me, "You owe me, your presence in that seat.  I love you, man."

I remembered it that night in Lauderdale, and although it was a broken memory, although it didn't fit into anything else I thought I knew, it saved his life.  I would have shot him and I would have killed him, if I hadn't been desperately trying to work out why a cop had told me that he loved me.

There were a million things I wanted to say and I couldn't find words to express any of them.  So I squeezed his arm - a real manly gesture - and dragged Izzy out of the way of the door so I could check that the coast was clear.


Stan and his new partner Sammy were already on the St.Vitus.  Well, Stan was.

Sammy had a possibly healthy fear of Elvis.  Elvis just doesn't like strangers.  He almost took Rico's foot off the first time my partner stepped aboard.  But Elvis protects me.  Or that's the idea anyway.

"Stan!"  I called to him and he waved.  Izzy was looking around him, as nervous as a kitten, as we walked the boards to my sloop.

Once aboard, he went below deck faster than a shot.  With me there, Elvis settled, and Sammy followed cautiously.

"What's with him?" Stan asked me, half-a doughnut in his mouth, half in his hand.

"He's spooked.  Manny's dead."  Stan nodded.  Castillo must have brought them up to date.  "Rico and I'll be over later to swap you."

"That's cool, Sonny."  Stepping around my alligator, Sammy also went below, to check on Izzy and from what I could hear put some coffee on.  He was an excellent cop, incredibly cool undercover, with a fresh sense of humour and life outlook that had pulled us all slowly out of the vice cop blues.

He looked the part on the boat, was naturally graceful and wore the undercover clothes like he was born in them.  Off duty, he preferred jeans and a T-shirt, and had turned down the department-offered Ferrari F40 in favour of a sleek, 1980's black Trans-Am Firebird.  Drug dealers loved him.

"Keep him, safe," I asked them, and left to meet my partner at OCB.


Rico:

Miami was still sleeping as I drove north to our disguised head quarters, Gold Coast Shipping.

I couldn't help worrying about Sonny.  I always worried about Sonny.

I hadn't used to.  Until the night he was shot right in front of me.  I can still hear the gunshot that almost killed him.  I wake in the middle of the night with that sound echoing in my ears.

It scared me to death to sit at his bedside, hold his hand and watch him take breath after aided breath.  In a second he'd gone from the healthy man standing beside me to being a victim, reliant on the miracles of modern medicine just to stay alive.

I didn't ever want to go through that again.  I didn't ever want to have to give that speech I dreaded giving in a small chapel somewhere surrounded by his family and friends.

My hand hovered over the car phone, but I shook my head.  It was the stupidest thought.  This affair between Sonny and I was making us both act crazy.  If we kept it up, Castillo would be on our backs faster than we could blink.

I thought about Izzy.  Whatever was going on with him, it was bound to drag us under if we let it.  Izzy knew everyone and everything.  He was always in on the latest scam while somehow keeping tabs on the county's dealers and suppliers.

When Sonny had first introduced me to his best informant, I really hadn't believed the worm was for real.  But Sonny trusted him, and I quickly learnt that Sonny had an incredible feeling for people.  That was why he hurt so much when he was betrayed.  He gave all of himself, and that just made him vulnerable.

Very early on, I swore I'd never betray him the way others had.  It was one of those promises that had almost been impossible to keep in some moments, and impossible to even contemplate breaking in others.  When he shot at me without a word, it shattered me.

When I found out about the blood clot in his brain, realised that we should have believed in him enough to know something was wrong, I knew we'd all betrayed him.  Far from him asking for forgiveness, we should have been the ones seeking his.


Trudy and Gina were already looking into the explosion when I arrived in OCB.  Sonny had apparently rung in and asked them to look for similarities between the explosion that had killed Manny, and any previous car bombs linked to vice cases in the past.

Hearing that, I thought he might have lost it.  One car bomb tended to be much like another, didn't it?  But the two ladies were working with the diligence of people following up an important lead, so I kept quiet.

Who was I to tell them I thought my partner had cracked?

I sat at my desk, aware that I was simply waiting for him to come in, for a full ten minutes. 

He breezed in, throwing me a stunning smile before stopping in front of the coffee machine.  As was typical of him at that time of the morning to bring three plastic cups of thick, strong black coffee back to our desks and not speak to anyone until he'd finished them.

He blames me for that habit, saying he didn't drink so much coffee until I'd come along and started turning up at his boat every morning with a large, steaming mocha from his favourite early morning bar.

That morning was no different.  He settled in his chair, putting two of the cups on his desk, keeping a hold of the third.  Sifting through the papers on his desk, he picked up one and started to read it.  Seconds later, he let it fly to one side and began searching his desk again.

I just watched him.  Until Gina perked up, and once again we were treated to a show of Crockett magic.


Sonny:

"Sonny?"

Grinning at Rico, I pushed myself out of my chair and went to sit up on Gina's desk, smiling widely.  Whatever might have happened between us in the past, she was still a colleague and a very close friend.

"What can I do for you, Beautiful?"  I felt like a million dollars.  What was happening now between Rico and I was the best thing to have happened to me in a very long time.

She looked me over once, eyes sparkling, before handing me a single printed sheet of paper.  "You asked me to look for a signature, something that might connect Izzy's explosion to another bomb."  I nodded, it had seemed like a good idea at the time and by the tone of her voice, it seemed like it had paid off.  "Well, I had to go back a number of years, but I found something."

Leaning over, she indicated a line in the middle of the report that I hadn't bothered trying to read.  "Usually car bombs are set to blow when the trunk's opened, or the engine's started, Izzy's friend Manny was killed when he put his foot on the brakes.  Twelve years ago, I found a doctor killed the same way."

I gazed up at her, more than a little confused.  "A doctor?"  It just sounded so unlikely.

"Doctor Peter Grisham.  Left the Mercy Hospital at nine thirty one Monday night, slowed down to avoid a car as he pulled out of the parking lot, and boom."

"Grisham...."  I read the report she'd handed me, my mind racing.

"The name rang a bell, so I ran it through the database."  The name more than rang a bell.  I knew who Doctor Peter Grisham was.  And I knew his connection to Izzy.

"Grisham was the centre of a vice operation when he died."  I told her what she already knew.  I could feel my partner's eyes on my back, attention drawn by the tone of my voice.

She nodded.  "Killed before vice could move on him."  She studied me for a second.  But by then, Rico was standing at my side.

"What's his connection to Izzy?"

"I don't know," I lied.  "Izzy's had his fingers in so much it'd be hard to tell."

I knew I wasn't fooling Rico.  He could read me through the tone of my voice, my body language and other things I didn't even realise I was doing.  But he didn't say anything.  Not yet.  He'd wait until we were alone before pouncing.  And he'd get the truth out of me, I knew that for certain.

"What have you got?"  I started.  Castillo was standing right behind us and I hadn't even heard him come out of his office.

"Looks like someone from Izzy's past killed Manny by accident," Trudy slipped in without a pause.

"How do we know they were after Izzy?"

"He says someone was shooting at him.  That they were after him when he ran."  I tried to recall what Izzy had told us at Rico's place.

"More likely to be Izzy than Manny, Lieutenant," Rico backed me up.  "Manny's just his assistant."

Castillo digested that and nodded.  "Agreed.  Got a name?"

Trudy explained the connection with the bomb that killed Grisham twelve years before.  "No one was ever charged with his death," she continued.  "At the time he was suspected to have been working alone."

"Who was his buyer?"

I knew that one too, but I left to Trudy to read the file.  "No one person for the drugs.  He was small time.  But he was suspected to have some information about a cop.  Information that he was about to sell to Emeil Pendoza."

That was a safe thing to admit to knowing.  For Rico's benefit, I said, "Pendroza was a high-flyer back then, liked to have cops on his pay roll."

Castillo made an addition to my statement, "Pendroza was killed three years ago in an explosion on a boat."  He took a deep, steady breath.  "Talk to Moreno, get a lead.  Or throw him back on the street."  I had to look at him closely to confirm it had been a joke.  "Whatever, you've got twenty-four hours to end it."


Rico:

There was something going on that I couldn't get a hook on.  Sonny was holding something back, I knew it and I hated it.  But whatever it was, it was buried deep in the past and opening up stuff in Sonny's past was never a good idea.

I didn't want to push, so I waited.

After leaving OCB, we headed for the marina.  Sonny was quiet, but not unusually so.  He parked the Ferrari and we walked side by side toward the St Vitus.

Everything happened so fast, I barely registered it until it was over.

As we neared the boat, a guy stepped into our path.  I saw him, and then I saw the gun in his hands.

He seemed to be uncertain, neither of us were obviously his chosen target.

"Hey, man," Sonny cooed, "you don't wanna be waving that around out here.  This is a respectable neighbourhood."  He took a step forward, hand out, palm up.  "Why don't I just care o'that for you for now?"

Sonny's move gave me time to pull my own weapon in case something went down.

But the guy, he was so damn fast!  He saw me, and in a blink he was aiming at me, safety back, trigger finger tightening.

I heard Sonny's cry of "NO!" and in the next second my partner was on top of me.  I heard a shot fired, and we hit the boards hard.

Another shot, and for a moment all I could hear was the ringing against my eardrums.  When it cleared, I realised that Sam and Stan were calling our names.

Sonny was still on top of me, a dead weight.  The nightmare thought occurred that he was dead, and I reached up, heart starting to race, to touch his face.  As I did, his head lifted and I saw the pain blazing in his eyes.

He'd been shot.

Sammy knelt by us, peeling off his T-shirt and wadding it up to hold over what I later found out was a gaping hole in Sonny's back, just above his shoulder blade.

Stan was on the front of the boat, phone in hand, calling for an ambulance.

Izzy was standing a little way back, mouth open, just staring.

I assumed the guy with the gun was dead, or at least down and no longer a threat.

"It's okay, guys," Sammy was reassuring us.  "It doesn't look too serious."

The expression on my partner's face was saying otherwise, but he was still conscious.  I could feel a sticky warmth against my chest, and realised that Sonny was bleeding out onto me.

But he was pressed against me, and that, along with Sam's first aid on his back, was stemming the blood flow.

Carefully, I lifted my arm, the one not pinned under Sonny's body, and wrapped it around him, holding him where he lay.

"Rico...."

"You're all right, Partner," I told him, moving my hand up to gently persuade him to use me as a pillow as well as a mattress.  "We might as well both wait here for the medics, okay?"

"Okay."

"You stay with me, right?  No sleeping."

"Okay."

He sounded as if he was going to lose consciousness, but he must have spotted Izzy, because suddenly he perked up, and I swear he would have tried to move if Sammy and I hadn't been pinning him between us.

"You little worm!" he ground out through gritted teeth.  Izzy took a step back, despite it being blatantly obvious that Sonny was going nowhere right at that moment.  "Who the hell was that?"

"I dunno, Sonny man," Izzy defended himself.  "I swear."

"And I swear, Izzy, when they let me loose I'm comin' after you...!"


Sonny:

I came to in what I recognised with a groan as a bay in the ER at the Mercy Hospital.

Rico was sitting in a chair next to the bed, eyes closed.  He looked like death warmed over, and I wondered what I looked like.  The right side of his white shirt was red with dried blood, and I realised it must have been mine.

I lifted my head, and was rewarded with what felt like a brick to the temple, so I lay back gingerly.  I was shirtless.  My left shoulder and my chest were both bandaged up and hurt like hell.

I silently cursed it all to hell.  I'd be in a sling for a couple of weeks, I knew from bitter experience.  No driving my Snow White for a while.

Outside the curtains that had been pulled around us, I could hear Castillo's voice, and Sammy's.  I smiled to myself.  Anytime one of us wound up in the hospital, the whole unit seemed to materialise here too.  Like a show of solidarity against the bad guys.

Speaking of who, I couldn't wait to get out there and get the bad guy who'd done this to me.

The curtain was moved aside, and Rico started, sitting up suddenly.

I tried my best smile for the woman doctor standing there, clipboard in hand.  But she simple stated the obvious.  "You're awake."

Then Rico looked at me.  "Sonny!"  He was on his feet in a second, hovering beside the bed.  Stretching out my right arm I snagged his hand and squeezed it.  I was okay.  We were both okay.  Yet again.

The doc saw my move and smiled.  Stepping around the other side of the bed, she checked my eyes for any signs of concussion, then stuck a thermometer in my ear and read my temperature.

"How do you feel?"

I told her about the headache and she nodded.  "We're getting you some pain killers up from the pharmacy.  Any nausea?"

"No, but I can't promise there won't be any when I sit up."

She chuckled.  "If you're feeling okay, you can go home once the nurse has strapped you up.  Your partner here's going to stay with you for twenty-four hours, to make sure you're okay.  No alcohol, and if you feel sick, or dizzy, come straight back."

"Sure.  Thanks."

Another smile, and she left us alone.

Rico came closer, resting my hand back on the mattress but not letting go like I didn't let go of him.

"You saved my life, Sonny," he told me seriously.

I frowned.  "No, man, he just... he shot me."

But Rico was shaking his head.  "I drew my gun.  He aimed at me and fired.  But you... you just stepped in front of the bullet.  It hit you, spun you around and you collapsed on top of me."

I didn't know what to say, but Rico had had a couple of hours to think about it.

"You're important to me, Sonny.  I don't... if you died for me...."

Struggling into a sitting position, ignoring his protests, I took a tighter hold of his hand.  "Rico, I'm fine.  I don't even remember stepping in front of the gun."

He had more to say, but the curtains shifted and Castillo stepped through, followed by Sammy.  Stan, Gina and Trudy were all in the background.

I noticed Castillo noticing us holding hands. 

I knew that when I was shot by Angel Montipenia, Rico sat with me for days on end while I was in Intensive Care, holding my hand, talking to me.

It wasn't that different this time.  Partners worried about one another, it was the ways things should be.

Castillo looked at me, expression asking the question.

"I'm fine, Lieutenant," I insisted, "slight headache."

"Good."  He hesitated.  "The man who shot you was James Mortimore."  He looked at me steadily, as if I should have recognised the name.  I didn't, this time I really didn't.  "He was an intern at this hospital when Grisham worked here."

I was bemused.  "Is he..."

"Sam shot him after he shot you.  Saved both your lives." 

I gave Sammy what I hoped was a winning smile.  "Thank you."

"Hey, no worries."  But by his almost shy smile, I could tell he was relieved.  Castillo was still looking at me, as if trying to read what I wasn't saying. But I honestly hadn't got a clue who Mortimore was.

Finally he nodded.  "You're off for a week.  Rest, Sonny.  You did good, saving your partner's life."  He smiled, and I knew that smile.  He only ever had it for me.  I glanced at Rico and saw him see it too.

'Okay, Partner,' I thought to myself, 'no one but you, Rico.'


Rico:

I drove Sonny back to the boat, stopping by my own place to pick up some clothes.  We'd already planned to take the boat out somewhere, once he'd taken a couple of the strong meds the doc had given him, and had a long sleep.

While he slept, I read the files that Gina had dug up on Grisham and Pendroza.  The only thing I could find was that one of the vice cops working Grisham was Scott Wheeler, Sonny's old partner.

But it was long before Sonny's time.  My partner would just have been out of the academy.

So what the hell connected Grisham and Mortimore, Grisham and Izzy, and Grisham and Sonny?  Was there a connection there or was I just imagining it?

Finally I dumped the files.  I'd just have to get Sonny to talk.


Sonny:

As I lay awake, my head pounding and my shoulder aching, all I could think about Mortimore, and his being an intern with Grisham.  I could link him to Izzy, but I couldn't figure why he'd be gunning for the little worm.

We wanted to take the St. Vitus out, but before I left, I needed to sort it all out in my head.  If I was going to come clean with Rico, I had to know the truth.

Sending Rico out for supplies for our couple of days in the Keys, I called Izzy.

"Sonny, man, I'av'to    thank you.  You saved my life."

"Yeah, yeah, Moreno.  Listen to me.  The guy who was after you was called James Mortimore.  He had something to do with Doctor Peter Grisham, remember Grisham from way back when Scotty..."

Izzy interrupted me.

"I remember, Sonny.  Mortimore was Grisham's young lover."

Okay, so that made more sense.  "Why was he after you, Izz?"

"I dunno, man."

"You were the contact on that deal!"

"Sonny... man, I won'ever tell, no worries there."

He was losing me again.  "Izzy, what the hell are you talking about?"

"The bomb, amigo."

"What bomb?"

"The one tha' killed Gri'ham."

I could barely believe it.  "You think I planted that?!  Why?"  But suddenly I knew why.  He'd worked out that I was the cop whose medical records Grisham was planning on selling.  "Izzy, I didn't kill Grisham.  I thought maybe you had."

"No, man, I though'...."

I didn't listen.  My mind was racing.  Maybe Mortimore had figured that Izzy had set the bomb like I just had.  Maybe it had taken as long as it had taken me.

"Go away, Izz," I told him, and hung up.

*

Once Rico got back, I showed him how to pilot the tub and we headed out for the Keys.

I spent the afternoon learning how to fish with one hand and drinking cold beer, absolutely against doctor's orders.  Rico spent it reading and soaking up the rays.

When the sun started to set, I set the barbecue and cooked the fish I'd caught.  Rico opened a bottle of wine and dug out a candle.

As I cooked, he came to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around me, careful of my bandaged, slung arm.  I felt his lips on the back of my neck and pressed back against him, loving to feel his strength all around me.

"I'll tell you everything I know," I promised, knowing what had been on his mind all afternoon, "once we've eaten."  It wasn't going to be easy to tell him all that I'd pieced together, worse, all that I'd kept from him over the years.

But he deserved to hear it.


We sat up on deck, the only light coming from the almost amber glow of the deck lighting.  The sky was dark, the air warm.

"During my final year at the academy," I started, "I was in a car accident.  I was rushed to the hospital and scans revealed a blood clot in my brain.  They put me on medication to dissipate it without surgery.  I have no memory of any of it.  But I was awake, I was communicating, and apparently I was very violent. 

"One day, after about six weeks, I attacked one of the doctors, and he defended himself.  I hit my head against the wall, blacked out.  When I woke, I couldn't remember the last six weeks.  The last thing I knew was getting in the car that had crashed."

I could almost see the cogs working in Rico's head, putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

"The doctor who treated me was Peter Grisham."

"The same Peter Grisham who was killed?"

I nodded; another clue for him.  "When I graduated from the academy, I did a three month stint with vice.  The guy I was put with - Scott Wheeler - was working on some information that one Izzy Moreno had given to him.  A doctor over at Mercy Hospital was selling prescriptions for Morphine and other over-the-counter drugs.  I went with Scotty to see Izzy - that was the first time I met him - and Izzy told us that this doctor was also claiming to have the medical files of a cop who suffered from schizophrenia and had a violent alter ego.  Izzy said he didn't know who the cop was, but I got the feeling that he was lying." 

I kept my gaze trained at the open, dark ocean, not wanting to face Rico at that moment.  "A couple of days later, Grisham bought it and the case was dropped."

Rico kept quiet, waiting, knowing I wasn't finished.  "I swear, Rico, I didn't think anything of it.  Not until I was in the hospital after I came back from Lauderdale.  The doc told me I'd had a blood clot in my brain.  I couldn't remember any of it, not one memory in three months.  And as I sat there I started to put two and two together." 

I leaned forward, face in my hands.  "I was the cop Grisham had been selling the information on.  And this morning I found out that Izzy had worked it out too.  He'd thought that I'd killed Grisham."

Turning my head, I finally looked at my partner.  He was looking at me with the most intense expression I'd ever seen.  But obviously his brain wasn't delivering the words.

"This alter ego... he wasn't 'Burnett' until they told him he was.  They named him.  After Lauderdale, I wanted to bury Burnett.  But IAD said that having everything that I'd done on my resume..." I felt mildly sick, "...would help with the cover.  No one questions Burnett now.  Very few even run checks."  Still, Rico was just staring at me.  "I know I should have told you!" 

His silence was making me desperate.  "The doc told me... everyone told me that it wouldn't happen unless I was hurt, that a chemical change in my brain brought on by the blood clots trigged the schizophrenic response.  Castillo knows, he promise... if anything happened to me he'd pull me in, or get me away from you in case I harmed you.  Please, Rico...."


Rico:

I heard the frantic plea and his voice and it broke me out of my own racing thoughts.  He was on the verge of tears.

"Oh God, Sonny...."  Reaching for him, I pulled him into me carefully, fitting him against me, rubbing his back and murmuring to him that it was okay.

The biggest shock was that I'd been both right and wrong about Burnett.  He was just a blood clot, but at the same time he was another side of Sonny's personality.  I was trying to work out if that scared me or not.

"Sonny, the person Burnett became in Lauderdale... that wasn't you.  He was trying to stay alive, being the person they hold him he was."

He'd worked through what happened in Lauderdale.  I'd helped him.  I had a session with his shrink, and she'd told me, privately, that Sonny had told her that he loved me, that he was worried about me trusting him ever again.

"I should have told you."

He brought me back to the present.  "Yeah, and now you have."  At the time when he'd pieced the first few pieces together, he'd been in a mess.  We both had.  I told him so.

He pulled away from me slightly.  "I should have trusted you more."

"Sonny, back then, we were tearing ourselves apart.  You had no idea what I'd say if you told me."  I let my fingers tangle in his hair.  "I love you, Sonny.  Whatever you tell me, nothin's ever going to change that."

"Even Burnett?"

Sighing, shaking my head in frustration, I leaned in and kissed him.  He went with me, letting me lead.  When I sat back again, I stroked my thumb over his lips.

"Burnett's a blood clot," I restated.

"And what if... one day there's a clot that doesn't dissipate?"

"Sonny... it would mean your life.  You couldn't live like that indefinitely.  They'd have to operate."

He took a deep breath, wiping the tears from his eyes.  "I'm scared of losing myself."

"I wouldn't let that happen.  I'm your partner, Sonny, and I know now.  What happened in Miami and in Lauderdale... it won't happen again.  I promise you."  He nodded slowly, accepting, I hoped, my words.

For a long time we just sat together, looking up at the stars.  It was so clear without the glow of the city to obscure the view.

Finally, we went below.  I made coffee while Sonny went to take some more of the miracle pain killers.  Ten minutes later, I found him zoned out on the bed, sleeping like a baby.

We always seemed to manage to have the high-stress conversations when one or both of us is in no state to cope with them.

I watched him for a few minutes.  Then I settled into the galley and drank a pot of coffee.  I didn't want to sleep, not alone, not that night.  I just wanted to be there, close to him, aware of him.

The only sounds were his soft snoring, and the occasional movement or belch from Elvis up on deck.

A couple of times I'd known Elvis sleep below deck.  I knew Sonny liked to feel protected sometimes.  As I sat there, I wanted to feel like I could protect him from anything the world could throw at us.  But could I protect him from himself?

Sometimes I tied my head in knots trying to rationalise Sonny and me.

I found myself drowsing despite the coffee.  How Sonny could ever suffer from insomnia, I couldn't understand.  The gentle, rhythmic rocking of the boat was sending me to sleep.

Our lives seemed to have a soundtrack of guns and yellin'.  Out there in the middle of nowhere was the most peaceful place in the world.  I let myself drift, let my mind wander. 

It chose to go back to the day that that boat had exploded with my partner on it.

Thinking about it was like picking at a freshly inflicted wound.  I could still feel the horror and grief as clearly as if had been yesterday.  I'd sat and watched my partner die, and there'd been nothing I could do about it.

I'd carried on walking and talking, but inside I'd shattered into a million pieces.

Sonny was the man who'd saved my sanity.  He'd killed the man who killed my brother.  He'd offered me a job, a partnership and a friendship the likes of which I'd never known.

I'd thought he was dead.  After that, having him shoot me was just one more heartbreak.

"Rico?"

I sat up, swinging my feet to the floor and wandering through into the forward cabin.

"Sonny?  You okay?"

"Yeah.  Sorry."

I told him not to mention it and he asked if I wanted to join him.

We undressed without a word before settling, me on my back, him draped over me so that his bad arm was rested over me, his shoulder supported without having to put any pressure on the still raw injury.

I could feel his dick, semi-erect against my thigh.  He was obviously exhausted, and the meds knocked him out anyway, but I had to wonder what he'd been dreaming about.

I'd get him to tell me all about it in the morning.  Or better still, to show me.