Fandom:	Houston Knights
Series:	Playing For Keeps/Preslash
Rating:	PG-13
Pairing:	Joe/Levon
Archive:	Starwinder's
Title:	Ghosts
Author:	Starwinder
e-mail:	starwinder2of7@gmail.com
Standard Disclaimer: Houston Knights belongs to Jay Bernstein and Michael Butler and Columbia Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fan fiction, written out of love for the shows. I am making no money off this. I have no money so please don't sue me. Any original characters who may appear in these stories are the property of the author.

Ghosts
By Starwinder

Lieutenant Beaumont could tell that LaFiamma's mind wasn't on the report that he was giving her. His eyes kept going to his partner sitting still and silent in the passenger's side of the jeep. [He looks ... What? Worried? Concerned? Scared?] None of the emotions seemed to fit with what little she had seen of their relationship. The two of them had been like a pair of wild stallions fighting over a herd of mares all week.

Finally she was satisfied with the report and dismissed LaFiamma, watching as he made a beeline for the jeep and his partner. He paused just long enough to hand off the Uzi he was toting to an evidence technician before walking to the jeep and getting in.

Climbing into the driver's side of the jeep LaFiamma looked over at Lundy. "You okay?" He asked after a moment's silence.

"Fine," Lundy replied in a monotone.

LaFiamma wasn't convinced. He'd seen that look before. He pushed the memory away and said, "You might want to inform your face," echoing the words Lundy had said to him the day before.

Lundy didn't reply. He heard LaFiamma crank the jeep and almost protested, unsure that LaFiamma could drive a straight shift but the man put the jeep in gear and pulled out.

Joanne Beaumont looked after the jeep as it pulled out. She had spoken to Levon when she arrived but hadn't been happy about having to leave him sitting there while she took care of business. She fervently hoped that the look she'd seen on LaFiamma's face had been real concern and that he would take care of his partner despite their differences.

She saw the taillights flare as LaFiamma braked before turning on to the highway. Then the jeep was gone, leaving her standing, staring worriedly after it.

LaFiamma drove for several miles heading back toward Houston, fairly sure that he would have to get closer in than he was before needing to get off the freeway. He looked over at Lundy thinking about asking for directions but the look on his partner's face stopped him. [He looks like Anderson did the night he---] He chopped the thought off, forcing his mind back to the problem at hand. Lundy was definitely out of it. Which left him with one option. Go to the only place he knew how to get to: His place.

Sometime later LaFiamma parked the Jeep in front of his apartment building and switched off the engine. Getting out and going around to the passenger side of the vehicle he stood for a minute looking at Lundy. The man didn't even seem aware that they had stopped.

[Just like Anderson that night....] He pushed the thought away again. [This is not Chicago. He's not Anderson. It ain't gonna happen again. I won't let it. He's gonna be all right. He's gotta be.]

He reached out and laid a hand on Lundy's arm. "You want to get outta the jeep, Lundy?"

Lundy jerked at the touch and looked around, "Where..?" he started then looking around he nodded slightly as he realized where they were. "Your place." He mumbled.

After a minute he climbed out of the jeep and started around to the driver's side, so unsteady on his feet that when he turned at the front of the jeep he had to reach out and place a hand on the hood to keep his knees from buckling.

LaFiamma watched him for a minute then with a shake of his head he said, "Lundy."

His partner turned to give him an annoyed look still steadying himself with one hand on the hood of the jeep. "What, LaFiamma?"

Wordlessly, LaFiamma held up the keys to the jeep.

"Shit." Lundy cursed, without feeling. He started back toward LaFiamma reaching for the keys.

LaFiamma dropped them back in his pocket, shaking his head at his partner. "You ain't in any condition to drive, Lundy. Just give it up. My couch lets out. Better you crash there than on the road somewhere." He reached out to take Lundy's arm. "Come on."

Lundy started to protest as LaFiamma took his arm then realizing that as much as he hated to admit it he'd probably never make it home if he tried, he surrendered and let LaFiamma steer him up the sidewalk.

LaFiamma kept a hand on Lundy's arm all the way to his apartment, steadying him, only releasing his grip when they reached his door and he had to fish out his keys.

Once the door was open he steered Lundy to the couch and hovered till his partner was seated.

Lundy sank into the soft cushions of the couch and leaned forward, rubbing his face with his hands. "Lord, I need a drink." He mumbled.

LaFiamma stood back watching him. "Sorry, man. I don't keep liquor around. All I got is water, Gatorade and juice."

Lundy stared up at him uncomprehendingly, "No beer? No wine? Nothing?"

"Sorry, Lundy. I just don't keep it." LaFiamma spread his hands in a helpless gesture, "I...I just don't." He repeated lamely.

"Don't you ever need a drink? Or are you so God awful perfect---"

LaFiamma cut him off, "No! I mean.... Yeah, I need a drink sometimes.... That's the problem.... or it used to be.... Way too often. It's just better if I don't keep the hard stuff around... especially now...." He trailed off, [that I'm all alone here with nobody to give a damn---], then with another of those helpless gestures he added, "If you just gotta have.... something. I guess I could go get a bottle somewhere." His face plainly said he didn't have the faintest idea where.

Lundy shook his head. [Man'd probably get lost then I'd be left sitting here alone... and still not have anything to drink.] "No, LaFiamma, I don't need it that bad." He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. "You better get on to bed yourself."

"You want me to let the couch out for you?"

"Naw. I'll sit up a bit longer. Just sleep on it the way it is."

LaFiamma remained standing where he was.

For some reason that irritated Lundy. He straightened up on the couch, "What?" He demanded.

LaFiamma stared down at the floor then lifted his head and stared at a point somewhere on the wall behind Lundy, thinking about another partner he hadn't known long or well and another night when he had known that he should have said... something, done... something and hadn't. [This time I do something. Right or wrong. I do something.] Finally he fixed a stubborn look on his face and said in a barely audible voice. "Give me your gun."

"I beg your pardon!" Lundy snapped, rising from the couch to face his partner, taking a half step toward him, his stance abruptly threatening.

LaFiamma dropped his gaze back to the floor, refusing to look at Lundy. In a slightly louder and much firmer voice he said, "I said, 'Give... me... your... gun.'" He spaced the words out for emphasis, bringing his head up to look directly at Lundy as he finished.

"Why should I do that?" Lundy demanded, disbelief that the man would ask such a thing plain in his voice.

LaFiamma looked away, around the apartment, anywhere but at Lundy. [Please, please just do it. Don't make me tell you...]

Then with a shrug, trying to make it sound casual, like it wasn't any big deal he said, "Because I'm your partner and I asked you to." The tone was questioning. As if he was asking [Is this a good enough reason?]

Lundy answered the part he hadn't asked. "That ain't no good reason. Maybe you oughta try again." He took another step forward... and LaFiamma stepped back.

He wet his lips, and tried again, "I'd just feel better... ya know.... If... well if you just let me put them up with mine. Just till in the morning.... I'd just... feel... better. Okay?"

"No! It ain't okay! Sounds to me like you think I can't be trusted with my own gun. What'd'ya think I'm gonna do, LaFiamma? You think I'm gonna eat it? Is that what you think? 'Cause if it is---"

"NO!" LaFiamma shouted. He spun away from Lundy moving out of the living room area into the open space before the bar. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to block out the memories: [Knocking....No answer.... Calling out "Anderson! Come on, man. Let me in. Looking through the window...]

He raised his hands to his head running them through his hair with a nervous almost frantic motion.

[Anderson, slumped on the couch.... The gun..... the back of his head...gone.]

"I mean.... I mean..." He turned holding his hands out to Lundy in a pleading gesture. "I don't mean that you would. I just ... I mean ... It wouldn't be the first time! That my part-- That a cop. I... Please. Just give me the gun."

Lundy had followed LaFiamma out of the living area. Now he stopped, standing stock-still, staring at the distraught man before him.

This was not the arrogant, obnoxious, know it all, S.O.B. that had been driving him crazy all week. [The man is scared! Truly scared.]

As close to the breaking point as Lundy was he suddenly realized that LaFiamma was closer. Without a word he unfastened his shoulder holster and shucked it, handing it across to LaFiamma.

LaFiamma grabbed it like a drowning man grabs a straw and turned away, heading for the stairs. He didn't dare to speak. He was too close to tears.

He had just reached the foot of the stairs when Lundy's voice stopped him.

The voice was soft, almost gentle, "How many partners have you lost, LaFiamma?"

He struggled to keep his voice from breaking and didn't quite succeed. "All of them. Three partners in five years." He looked down at Lundy's gun clutched in his hands. "Two... two of them ate their guns."

Lundy started to step toward him but LaFiamma moved away, up two quick steps, but then he paused.

Sensing that LaFiamma needed to explain but couldn't without some kind of response from him, Lundy said. "Couldn't have been all your fault. Had to be more to it."

"That's what everybody kept telling me. With Anderson...I could almost let myself off the hook. We were only partners for five weeks but---"

"But..." Lundy prodded gently. [Lord, How did we get turned around like this.... He was trying to take care of me... now I'm.... But maybe this is what I need. Focusing on someone else's problems always did help me forget about mine.]

LaFiamma reached out and caught the stair-rail with one hand as if he needed the support before he could go on. "But me and Rio.... We weren't just partners. We grew up together.... We knew each other forever. I always thought we could talk about anything but he never said a word.... I never saw any... anything to indicate.... I shoulda noticed something... I shoulda." His voice broke then came back in a wail of grief. "He was my best friend!"

The pain and grief in his voice cut Lundy to the bone. He started forward reaching out toward his partner but LaFiamma didn't give him a chance to get close. He disappeared up the stairs into the loft bedroom.

Much as he wanted to, Lundy didn't follow. What was there to say? Or do? He had his ghosts. LaFiamma had his.

Lundy went back to the couch and sitting down began to take off his boots. When he had them off he lay down, not bothering to let the couch out.

It was a long time before he went to sleep. He could hear LaFiamma weeping, soft muffled sobs, obviously trying not to be heard. [Lord, I wish I could cry!]

He thought about that as he finally drifted off to sleep. As much as he had loved Caroline, he'd never been able to cry for her. Maybe if he were ever able to she would cease to haunt him.

The End