Partners, Friends and Lovers
Chapter 14 Part 1
By Katherine Lehman

Joe LaFiamma checked his appearance in the mirror. Over the last few years he'd gotten more casual with what he wore to the office. Although, his definition of casual and that of his coworkers was still worlds apart, he rarely went all out with a suit and tie unless he was in court. And today, he was going to be in court.

He steered clear of black. Black suits always reminded him of his Uncle Mikey's bodyguards or of going to a funeral. Dark blue slacks and a nice navy blue blazer. He smoothed the front of his lighter blue shirt. It matched the blue diamond pattern in his otherwise black tie. Sinfully expensive black Italian leather loafers completed the ensemble.

He unconsciously patted his chest again, seeking the feel of the pendant he wore beneath his shirt. Tucked away he'd be unable to play with it. Which was probably a good thing, Joe thought. Playing with it was rapidly becoming a blatant tell to anyone who knew him that he was nervous or worried. He didn't want to look that way on the witness stand.

A soft whistle got his attention. "Damn, boy, you look great." Levon Lundy smiled, golden brown eyes roaming over him in appreciation.

Joe chuckled and did a neat pirouette. "Glad you approve."

"I do." Levon grinned. He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "You ready to go?"

"Ready as I'll ever be to spend all day in court."

"Won't be all day."

Joe frowned. The case wasn't that simple or easy. "How do you figure?"

"Judge on the case is Delmar Reese."

"So?"

"So fishing season opened last week and today is Friday."

Joe made a 'go on' motion with his hand, still not seeing the significance of what Levon was saying. Levon rolled his eyes.

"Reese will call a recess a little before noon and it'll be for the rest of the day so he can go fishing."

Joe stared at him. "You're kidding?"

"He's been doing this for years, Joe." Levon shrugged one shoulder. "Man's not likely ta suddenly turn over a new leaf today."

"Why didn't I know this already?" Joe frowned.

"Probably 'cause this is your first time in his courtroom."

Given the stupid rookie mistakes he'd made and trouble Joe had his first two years in Houston, Lieutenant Joanne Beaumont, their boss, hadn't wanted him to testify in court where his credibility or ability as a cop could be called into question. With Levon technically the senior partner of their team and better known to most of the prosecutors, he was usually the one they asked for. It wasn't until the last year or so that Joe had begun regularly testifying. And when in court, he typically focused more on the attorneys and their styles of questioning than he did on the judge. Joe had seen more attorneys win or lose based on the questions they asked. Not just on what they asked, but how and what they did with the answers. Judges, Joe usually only paid attention to when it came to knowing how much information each needed before granting a search warrant.

"So we can get lunch together then?" Joe asked, seeing a definite upside to Reese's habit even if it did prolong the case and would probably have him back in court on Monday.

"Sure." Levon grinned. "Rescue me from the never ending paperwork."

"You want to take the Cobra or the Jimmy?"

"Need ta take both."

Joe blinked. "Come again?"

"Jimmy needs a tune up." Levon's tone was the same one he got whenever he was explaining something he'd already said more than once. "I wanna drop it off after work and leave it with Eddie for a day or so."

"Right." Joe nodded. He remembered Levon saying something about that the other day, but had forgotten all about it. "Sorry, Cowboy."

"No big deal." Levon patted his shoulder. He waggled his eyebrows. "Long as you don't forget your way home, I think we're good."

Joe laughed. "I could find my way home blindfolded."

"Good." Levon gave him a quick kiss, pulling back before Joe could deepen it. "You don't want to be late. In addition to leaving early on Friday's during fishing season, Reese always starts on time."

"Always?"

"Always." Levon shook his head. "Son of a bitch nearly filed contempt charges against me once for being five minutes late."

Joe grimaced. "Kind who likes the rules as long as they don't apply to him."

"Bingo." Levon jerked his head toward the door. "So we better go."

Joe followed Levon to the door, snagging his keys from where they hung on the small rack made for just that purpose. He tossed Levon's to him after the blond had settled his Stetson in place. It felt a little weird to him to not just head for the Jimmy since it was usually the vehicle they took. He didn't mind driving. Joe actually enjoyed taking the Cobra out for a spin, but he already knew he was going to miss having company. He hadn't gone anywhere in a vehicle without Levon since he moved out to the ranch nearly a year ago.

"You be careful, now, ya hear," Levon called out, leaning against his truck.

Joe snorted. His partner was a worry wart. "I'm going to be in court, Cowboy. Not like anything can happen there."

Levon raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, and I was just going for a cup of coffee."

Joe had to admit Levon had a point. They seemed to get into the damnedest situations when they weren't with each other. Course that has nothing on what happens when we're together, Joe thought, but then together we can usually handle it.

"I'll look both ways," Joe promised, holding up his hand with fingers set in a traditional boy scout salute.

"See that you do." Levon pointed a finger at him. A smile lurked about his mouth. "And don't be givin' me that stupid salute. I know you weren't a boy scout."

"Wasn't much call for wilderness training in Chicago." Joe shrugged. He sobered, giving Levon a hard look. "You be careful too. You leave the building someone had better know where you are and what you're doing."

Levon dipped his head in an abbreviated nod. Joe knew his admonishment wasn't really necessary. After Levon had been hit by that car the desk sergeant, Mike Suanders, had sort of taken it upon himself to keep a watchful eye on Levon whenever Joe wasn't around. Mike seemed to take it personally that Levon had been hurt on his watch, as though he were responsible. Joe didn't care why he did it, he was just glad he did.

"I'll see you at noon."

"I'll be waiting." Levon grinned as he got into the Jimmy. "It's yer turn to buy."

Joe laughed. Levon had naturally made that assertion when Joe couldn't effectively argue. Payback would definitely be in order. Joe grinned to himself. He'd make sure paying for lunch was worth it. Something he knew Levon was likely counting on.

Joe waited until Levon had pulled out before following him. Their paths would stay the same until they were in the city proper. The case Joe was testifying for was being tried in a courthouse that was the furthest from the station.

Houston had a least four courthouses to handle not only its own trials and legal matters but also those of several of the smaller surrounding communities. The city limits actually put it within three counties which sometimes made for jurisdictional nightmares. Most of the time they managed to make it work with an ease that always made Joe just a bit suspicious. He couldn't quite shake his innate distrust for things that were easier than expected.

He pulled up next to Levon's Jimmy at the light, preparing to take a right turn. Levon looked over and blew him a kiss. He sent one back with a smile before turning and merging with traffic.

He hoped Levon was right about Reese being a creature of habit. Joe wouldn't mind seeing if maybe they couldn't leave a little early themselves. He grinned thinking he wouldn't mind a little 'afternoon delight'. It would be a great way to start the weekend.

Joe drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while he waited for traffic to clear enough for him to turn into the courthouse parking lot. "Work now, play later," he told to himself as he parked the Cobra, his tone unconsciously mimicking Levon's drawl.

Joe told himself to put off thoughts of playing until at least noon. He needed to focus on being ready for the witness stand and testifying, then he could move on to better things. Much better things, he grinned as he smoothed his jacket one last time, squaring his shoulders and headed inside.

---

Levon really didn't hate paperwork. He wasn't fond of the tedious nature of it or the amount of time consumed, but he definitely saw the need for it. Catching criminals was one thing, making sure they stayed behind bars was another. Dotting the I's and crossing the T's was just part of doing a good job in his opinion.

Levon sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. He was tired of staring at forms and trying to whittle down a complex situation into few enough words it would fit in the box provided. "Ain't like I'm what ya call verbose for crying out loud," he muttered to himself. Who in their right mind actually thought a cop could fit the events of three months worth of work into a box with just two lines? With a shake of his head, Levon wrote in 'see attached' and stapled copies of his case notes to the form.

Unlike Joe, he could get away without having to type everything. He kept trying to tell his partner there was a benefit to having neat handwriting, but Joe had yet to see it. Of course, Joe had kept trying to tell him learning to touch type would save him time, but Levon didn't see the need for it either.

Levon checked his watch. It was nearly noon. If traffic were good, Joe would show up around 12:30. If it was bad, Levon figured it would be more like one o'clock.

Another cup of coffee was definitely in order. Levon put the form he'd finished in the file and dropped it into the inbox on Joe's desk. His partner would need to fill out his own version of events before they could really pass it off to get filed in the records room. Levon put his original notes in a neatly labeled folder that would get filed in a box under his desk. When the box was full, Levon usually carted it home to be stored in the filing cabinets in his garage.

Joe had thought he was nuts to keep his notes until they'd gotten saddled with digging deeper into few old, cold cases. The records department had moved any files more than three years old into storage. The storage facility had been flooded not long after, destroying most of the records. It would have been impossible to do anything with the cold cases if not for Levon's personal filing system.

Joe had is own that involved computers and discs. Levon didn't trust technology enough to abandon the old way just yet. But one of the filing cabinets in the garage now housed a box of discs for Joe.

Levon stretched, sighing when several vertebrae popped. He sauntered into the break room. He could finish off another cup of coffee while he waited for Joe to get back.

Returning to his desk, Levon debated the merits of starting on another file. He leaned back in his chair, mentally reviewing what cases were still outstanding. The low grade hum of activity buzzed around him as white noise he had long since grown accustomed to.

He'd learned to tune out the dozens of separate conversations that were always going at the same time. Phones had a habit of ringing with annoying frequency, but he could actually pick out whose by the tone and volume which made them easier to disregard. The scanner that kept the squad room connected with dispatch was something he'd gotten used to ignoring and focusing on without conscious thought.

Levon wasn't sure just what it was on the scanner that suddenly got his attention, but it was quickly the only thing he heard. He focused on the report, shutting out everything else around him. Shots fired at the Harris County Courthouse. Uniforms were being dispatched as well as ambulances. Shit. Joe was at Harris County Courthouse.

Levon was up and moving, discarding his full coffee cup along the way. He told Mendoza and Legs he was heading out, habit forcing him to let someone else know where he was going. He'd call into dispatch from the Jimmy.

Levon sprinted down the stairs, not bothering to wait on the elevator. It would take too damn long. He fired up the Jimmy, pulling out of the garage with a squeal of tires, lights flashing.

He cued the mic on the radio calling into dispatch, letting them no he was responding. Several other cars were already headed to the scene so he probably wasn't needed. Hell, he hoped he wouldn't be needed. But this wasn't about the job, at least not entirely. It was more about needing to know his partner and lover was okay.

Levon cursed when he spotted traffic jam. It was the usual mid-day rush and something he normally didn't worry about. Without easing off the accelerator, Levon turned the Jimmy into an alley. He was headed the wrong way down a one way street. Fortunately the street was empty. Even if it wasn't, Levon was in no mood to back up.

More details were coming across the radio. Shots were fired outside. No more were being fired but caution was still being urged. There were at least two wounded. No word on possible fatalities as yet. Levon tightened his grip on the steering wheel when the word 'fatalities' was said. He couldn't decide if it was good or bad that it had been mentioned at all.

Levon frowned when dispatch reported shots fired were suspected to have been a sniper--no suspect located on ground. Standard procedure required SWAT being called out since snipers weren't something Houston PD dealt with very often. Dispatch was issuing orders to uniforms responding not to approach too closely; they wanted those on scene to cordon off the area. It would hopefully keep people from entering a possible kill zone.

Levon made his way down another side street. He barely avoided a small blue compact as he made a hard right. He ignored the honking horn and one finger salute.

Levon encountered two black and whites that blocked the street two blocks from the courthouse. Without missing a beat he drove the Jimmy up on to the sidewalk, driving around the road block. One of the uniforms shook his head but didn't try to stop him.

Levon slowed within a block of his destination. He wasn't stupid. No matter how worried he was about Joe, getting his own head blown off wouldn't help.

Levon parked the Jimmy. He checked in with dispatch, letting other officers know who he was and where he was. Friendly fire might be as much a danger as the sniper.

Levon opened the door of the Jimmy and slid out cautiously. It was decidedly weird not to hear traffic sounds and to see the street basically deserted. He mentally tipped his hat to the uniforms cordoning off the area. They hadn't stopped him, but they were doing a good job of keeping everyone else at bay.

It was highly unlikely he'd spot anyone but he scanned the rooftops anyway. He reminded himself that a sniper didn't have to be up high. It was just the most likely place.

Shaking his head, Levon hugged the wall the closest building. He instinctively crouched, making himself a smaller target as he moved forward. He wanted to draw his colt, but the weapon didn't have the power to be effective at long range. It was better just to leave it in his holster.

Levon edged forward. As he got closer to the courthouse he could hear a few people calling to one another. He could make out several of them huddled behind the marble columns.

He frowned. According to the sketchy details he'd gotten over the radio most of the trials in session hadn't let out yet. A good thing since it kept the majority of people inside. Most but not all. Levon winced as he saw a few more crouched near cars. They looked skittish and he had no doubt they'd break cover if something wasn't done soon.

He worked his way up along side a uniformed officer. Levon recognized him as one of the bailiffs from Judge Reese's courtroom, but he had no idea what the man's name was. He looked as nervous as the civilians but was doing an admirable job of trying not to panic.

Levon crouched next to him, patting him on the shoulder. "Any more shots fired?"

He shook his head. "N-n-not since it stopped a few minutes ago." He swallowed hard. "T-t-t-wo people were hit." The bailiff pointed to the landing halfway down the marble steps. Levon could just make out two bodies there. He couldn't make out any more without a better vantage point. The lack of movement worried him.

A chopper sounded overhead. Levon looked up instinctively. It was one of SWAT's thank god, not one of the news station's.

Levon held out his hand. "Give me your radio." All the bailiffs had radios that tied in with the PD. They were intended to allow for communication during emergencies.

The bailiff handed it over without hesitation. Levon immediately tuned it to SWAT's frequency. They hadn't located the shooter, but so far they'd only cleared a handful of rooftops. Levon decided that was good enough. The wounded needed to be seen to or at the very least pulled to somewhere a lot less exposed than where they'd fallen.

He clicked the mic, identifying himself and his position. He grinned when he heard Carl Jenkins respond.

"We're above you now, Lundy."

"Can you see the wounded?"

Jenkins' mic cackled a bit with the sound of chopper noise. "Two males. Caucasian. No movement."

"Alive?"

"Can't tell from here."

Levon's jaw tightened. "Can you cover me?"

"Roger that."

Levon cast a quick glance around. Several of the more nervous civilians were starting to move, their attention darting from the chopper to rooftops. He shook his head. They weren't going to stay put for much longer. Hopefully, Jenkins and his team could cover them too.

He patted the bailiff on the shoulder. He pointed to the more restless people. "See if you can get them ta head this way."

He didn't wait for the man to reply. Levon headed out into the street, moving quickly and staying low. He made his way up the steps, intent on taking care of the wounded. Once that was done, he could track down Joe. Hopefully, is partner was still inside the courthouse somewhere. If Joe saw him breaking cover like this before the damn sniper was accounted for he'd have his ass.

Levon made it to where two men lay prone. The amount of blood covering the marble gave him a momentary pause before he dismissed it and focused on the task at hand. One man was on his front, his face turned away from Levon. The other was on his side. It looked almost as though he might have pushed or tripped his companion at some point.

Levon checked for a pulse from the closest victim, the one lying face up. It was weak and thready but there. It was hard to know for sure how many times he'd been hit. His once white shirt was mostly scarlet. Levon didn't like the way the man's breathing was so labored. It sounded like a lung might have been hit.

He moved on to the second man. Levon's breath caught as what he was seeing registered. Joe.

It was Joe.

Oh dear God.

Joe.

Levon struggled with his blind panic. Joe hadn't moved since he'd been here. Wasn't moving before he'd gotten to the scene. Please, Levon begged silently, please. He wasn't even sure what he who he was pleading with or what exactly he was asking for.

Levon's hand trembled as he checked for a pulse, his eyes closing in desperate relief when he found it. It wasn't as strong or as even as he was used to but definitely there. The band that had tightened around his chest making it so hard to breathe loosened and he drew in a shaky breath. He let it out slowly and pulled in another.

He forced himself to take his hand away from Joe's pulse point, to let go of that proof his lover was still alive. He needed to make sure Joe stayed that way. Levon ran his hands down Joe's back and legs, checking for any sign of injury. Finding none, Levon very carefully rolled Joe over, supporting his head the way he'd been taught every year when he went through the mandatory annual recertification for CPR. He flinched when he saw blood covering the right side of Joe's face.

Levon clenched his jaw so tight his teeth hurt. He very carefully reached out to brush Joe's hair back, a near sob of relief escaping when he realized his lover hadn't been shot in the head. He had a nasty looking gash on his forehead that would definitely need stitches. He'd probably gotten it from falling against the steps.

The dark material of his jacket hid the growing wetness Levon could feel spreading across Joe's right shoulder. There hadn't been an exit wound on Joe's back, so the bullet was still in him. It was probably a good thing it hadn't been a through and through. He would have lost twice as much blood as he already had.

Standard triage procedure dictated that he leave Joe and focus on the other man. Joe's breathing was fine, and even from a few feet away Levon could hear the stranger wheezing. He cursed, not wanting to leave Joe, but unable to just let another man die either. He cued the radio as he moved back to the stranger.

"Jenkins. Got one civilian and one officer down. Both badly wounded but still alive." He shuddered. Joe damn well better stay that way. "I need help here."

"No sign of our sniper yet." Jenkins stated. He sounded a lot calmer than Levon knew he had. And he sounded apologetic. "Can't give the all clear yet."

"God damn it, Carl!" He didn't want apologies or excuses. "I need a bus and some help." He needed someone who knew a lot more than he did about keeping people alive. He couldn't move Joe or the other guy to a safer position. Not without doing more damage.

Levon growled in to the radio. "Get someone here. Now!"

"Lundy-"

"Don't you tell me no." Levon ground out. "My partner is lying in a puddle of his own blood. Don't you dare tell me no."

"Shit." The curse was soft and had probably been involuntary. "I'll ask them for volunteers."

Asking for volunteers was the best Jenkins could do. Levon knew that. They couldn't order paramedics into a dangerous situation.

"Give me details, Lundy. I'll relay."

Details would let them know the situation and could get them here sooner. Levon undid the stranger's tie and opened his shirt. "John Doe. Caucasian male. Two hits to the chest. Sounds like at least one hit a lung. Guy is having trouble breathing." He looked up and confirmed his suspicion. "Lips are blue."

The man was still bleeding. Levon wadded up the tie and pressed it hard against hole near his heart that was bleeding the most. He really had no idea what else to do for the man at this point. He wished to hell he'd thought to grab the first aid kit from the Jimmy, but there wasn't anything in it to really handle injuries like this either.

Levon looked over at Joe. His partner was still breathing easily, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Levon fought down the urge to go to him. He swallowed hard and continued briefing Jenkins.

"Joe LaFiamma. Caucasian male. One shot to the right shoulder. Head wound. Possibly from a fall." Levon took a breath and let it out slow. "Both are unconscious and unresponsive."

"Copy that." There was a brief pause. "Got one crew willing to come in."

"Good." Levon responded without a thought. The stranger's breathing was increasingly labored and more shallow. "Not sure how much longer this guy is going to make it."

He sent another worried glance toward Joe. He'd feel better if his partner would at least move a little. Something to show he was still alive besides the steady breathing. Some more tangible and obvious sign of life.

"Team two has located the sniper's nest." Jenkins' report startled Levon. He hadn't expected to hear anything more from him until the ambulance and paramedics got there. He'd been so focused on watching Joe breathe, he'd forgotten the radio was still on.

He hoped they got the bastard, but Levon wasn't counting on it. Too much time had passed. Sniper was probably long gone, but he wasn't going to stay that way. Levon would make sure of that. Fucker was going to pay and dearly.

Levon was relieved when he spotted an ambulance coming up the street. It parked in front of the courthouse. He was glad the bailiff had managed to get most of the civilians to head in his direction. It meant they weren't hiding behind the cars the ambulance was now parked in front of. Levon had seen people cling stupidly to rescue personnel when there was nothing wrong with them. He didn't want some hysterical, but otherwise fine, individual slowing down the paramedics. He'd have to shoot someone in that case. At least then they'd have a good reason to cling.

The paramedics made their way to him quickly, splitting up as they reached the landing, one heading for Levon and the stranger, the other for Joe. Levon wanted to simply turn over responsibility of the stranger to the paramedic and go to Joe. He wanted to get to his lover, to touch him, to make sure his lover was going to be okay, but he stayed where he was. He had a feeling the paramedic was going to need his help.

"I'm Jerry," the paramedic introduced himself as he set to work. Dark brown eyes flicked toward his partner. "That's Martin."

"Levon Lundy." Levon responded stiffly. He had to actually think about what to say. His focus was on what Martin was doing with Joe.

Martin and Jerry's actions seemed to mirror one another. Both were checking heart rate and blood pressure. They both peeled back eyelids looking for a response. Levon felt his chest tighten when Joe moaned.

"Joe?" He called out to him, unable to not try and make some sort of connection. He started to move, but Jerry put a hand on his arm.

"Levon...I need you to keep pressure on this." Dark eyes held him in place. "Martin will take good care of him, but I need your help here. Okay?"

Levon took a deep breath and nodded. He took the bandage being offered and placed it over the wadded tie, keeping pressure on the wound. He kept his eyes on Joe, hoping his partner would react again. He wanted to see those bright blue eyes.

He ignored what Jerry was doing, focusing on Martin's actions. He saw him place a field dressing on the scalp wound, and another one the shoulder wound. Levon flinched when Joe moaned again.

"We need to move them." Jerry called out. He shook his head. "This guy isn't going to hang on much longer if we don't."

"They got a second crew coming in." Martin said calmly, hands moving efficiently and with deliberate care as he continued to work on Joe.

Levon was glad to hear that. With more people he would be free to go to Joe. He slapped down on his impatience, daring to look away from Joe, seeking another ambulance crew.

He breathed easier when he spotted them. Levon willed them to move faster. He knew it was only his sense of urgency and anxiety that made them seem to be moving at a snail's pace. He chanted under his breath, "C'mon, c'mon."

He was more than happy to relinquish his place to the new paramedics. If they introduced themselves he didn't notice. Levon was already moving to Joe.

Martin looked like he wanted to tell him to step back. Levon glared at him. "Not going to get in your way, but I'm not backin' off either."

Martin nodded. Levon gave him points for recognizing a losing battle. It showed the man had good judgment.

Levon reached out to very carefully brush his fingers gently through Joe's hair. "You're gonna be fine, Joe." He didn't even know if Joe could hear him, but he felt compelled to reassure him just the same. "It's okay, boy. Got us some help. It's okay."

Joe always said there was power in positive thinking. Levon sure as hell hoped so. He was thinking as positive as possible, and hoping like hell just saying Joe would be okay would make it so.

"Let's move this guy," Jerry said. "You ready?"

Levon hadn't even noticed the other team of paramedics had brought a stretcher with them. He watched as they carefully lifted the wounded stranger on to it. He wasn't sure when they'd strapped the backboard on to him. He wondered if they'd do the same to Joe. Joe hated to be tied down.

Once they had the wounded man loaded the other team quickly made their way back to their ambulance with him. Levon was impressed with their efficiency. They seemed good at their jobs.

"He gonna make it?" Levon asked when Jerry moved to help Martin with Joe.

Jerry shrugged, eyes following the leaving ambulance for a moment. "Doesn't look good." Levon gave him points for honesty.

Jerry looked at Martin before his gaze flickered down to Joe. "He doing okay?"

"For now." Martin nodded. "Vital signs are stable."

"Good." Jerry had a second backboard. He and Martin carefully maneuvered it under Joe.

Joe's hands twitched. Levon caught one, holding it gently, relieved to find it warm. Joe's grip was loose and weak but it was there.

"Easy, Joe," Levon soothed, unable to not talk to him even though Joe didn't seem to be conscious. "Know you don't like this, but it's for your own good. Just relax."

Once on the backboard, Jerry and Martin lifted Joe on to the stretcher. Levon held Joe's hand, unwilling to let go now that he was finally able to make contact. If Jerry or Martin thought it the least bit odd, they didn't say anything about it.

Neither paramedic tried to keep him from riding in the ambulance. Levon was careful not to interfere with anything actually being done. He was scared, but he wasn't hysterical. He knew better than to get in the way.

Joe's eyelids fluttered as the Jerry put the ambulance in motion and hit the siren. Levon squeezed his hand. "Joe? You with me?"

Levon wanted Joe to open his eyes. He knew it was irrational, but he'd feel a lot more confident about his lover's condition if Joe would look at him. Joe turned his head, a small frown wrinkling his brow, but his breathing didn't change and his eyes didn't open.

Levon watched as Martin inserted an IV. He winced. Levon disliked needles.

He listened to Martin as he radioed in Joe's status to the ER. Levon understood enough to know Joe's heart rate and blood pressure were not what they should be. The rest might as well be Greek.

Levon squeezed Joe's hand. "Not long now. We'll be at the hospital soon. It's gonna be okay."

Levon tied to ignore how sharply Joe's unnaturally pale complexion contrasted with the dull red of drying blood. He wished he had something to clean his lover's face with. Joe hated anyone see him at anything but his best. He knew Joe would be pissed about the ruined shirt and jacket too. They were new. Levon would have to see if he could find replacements.

He found himself counting Joe's breaths. In and out. Not the slow and steady rhythm he was familiar with, but comforting all the same.

Levon was startled when the ambulance stopped and Jerry was opening the doors. He hadn't even realized they were at the hospital. He was just grateful they'd gotten here without Joe having gotten any worse.

He moved easily with the gurney as they left the ambulance and headed for the ER. It was almost physically painful to release his hold on Joe's hand when the got to the doors and one of the nurses began telling him he had to let go and stay out. He wanted to argue but knew better. Levon wasn't stupid enough to do anything that might jeopardize Joe getting the best possible care as fast as possible.

He swallowed hard and made his way to the waiting room. Sitting in the torture devices disguised as chairs wasn't really an option. He was too upset to sit quietly. Arms wrapped tightly around himself, Levon paced slowly back and forth, eyes flickering toward the ER doors a regular intervals.

He stopped when a nurse left the ER. She looked familiar but Levon couldn't say for sure if he knew her. Given the number of times he and Joe had visited the ER, it was a safe bet they'd met before.

She smiled hesitantly and offered him a bag. He immediately recognized the things inside; Joe's wallet, cuffs, holsters, his watch, and the pendant Joe never went anywhere without.

"I thought you might want to hold on to these."

Levon cleared his throat and then just gave up on speaking entirely. He opted for simply nodding. He immediately reached into the bag and took out the pendant. He wrapped the chain around his fingers, curling his hand into a fist around the small oval, holding it tightly.

"The last time he was here, he wouldn't let us remove that." She pointed to his closed fist. "It must be very important to him."

"It is. Very." Levon opened his fingers to look at it, seeing everything it represented to both of them. His thumb lightly caressed the inscribed oval the way Joe often did. It was a wonder it hadn't been worn smooth by now. Levon shuddered at the thought of his lover never fiddling with his pendant again.

"You okay, honey?"

Only if Joe is, Levon thought. He didn't say that aloud. Instead, he nodded once, and watched her go back to doing her job.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when the nurse came out again. She smiled at him encouragingly this time. Levon wasn't buying that. He waited to hear whatever she'd come to tell him.

"Mr. LaFiamma is stable so they are moving him up to surgery."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That's good?" His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.

"It's better," she admitted with a sigh, soft brown eyes rising to met his reluctantly. "He's not out of the woods yet, but they are taking good care of him. His chances are very good. He's always been a fighter every other time he's been in here. This time will be no different."

Levon nodded. He appreciated her honesty and confidence. "Thank you, Ma'am."

"There is a waiting room just down the hall from surgery on the sixth floor." She offered. "I told them to expect you."

She turned to leave when Levon called her back. "Ma'am? There was another guy that came in. Two shots in the chest. Do you-"

"He didn't make it." She looked away before once more making eye contact. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too." Levon whispered. He didn't even know the man's name, and it seemed wrong that he didn't. For several minutes the stranger's life had been as much his focus as Joe's. Levon felt like he should know something about the guy. His grip on Joe's pendant tightened.

"Can you...can you have his body and personal affects sent to the HPD morgue?" Levon asked quietly.

"It's already been taken care of." She patted his arm. "It's standard procedure for us when the decedent's cause of death is known to be the result of a crime."

"Thank you."

"Any time, honey." She nodded to him and walked away.

Levon headed for the elevator and the sixth floor. He frowned when he noticed several men in suits hanging around in the lobby. Habit had him making note of their builds and general facial features. He didn't recognize any of them. Levon dismissed them as a curiosity but unimportant.

He tried not to fidget as the elevator doors closed. Trying to distract himself, he took inventory of the bag holding Joe's things.

He eyed the empty holsters, not surprised to see the guns missing. Metal detectors set up at the courthouse were there to screen everyone. As a cop, Joe wouldn't be stopped but he wouldn't be allowed to keep his weapons either. Joe wouldn't hand over his guns to anyone. Levon figured he'd find them locked in the glove box of the Cobra.

He made a mental note to have someone move the Cobra. Joe wouldn't want it left parked just anywhere for long. The car was too valuable to leave unattended.

Levon glanced up when the elevator made a soft ping noise. Sixth floor. He took a deep breath and stepped off when the doors opened. Levon knew the lay out of the floor well enough to know where the lounge was.

He walked the length of the hall, measuring his steps, striving for a calm he didn't feel. He already knew he wasn't going to be sitting down and waiting patiently when he got to the lounge. Pacing wasn't his normal style, but the idea of sitting still was unpalatable right now.

Levon was relieved to find the lounge empty. He wasn't really up to sharing space with someone else at the moment. He placed the bag on one of the empty chairs, but couldn't bring himself to let go of the pendant. His fingers continued to run over the surface repeatedly.

Levon glanced at his watch. He had no idea how long Joe would be in surgery, and he knew looking at the time would just make the wait seem that much longer but he couldn't help himself. Time moved differently in a hospital.

He took a deep breath, and continued pacing back and forth. Joe would be okay. He had to be. He'd been shot before. So had Levon. They'd both survived. It would be okay. He just had to wait.

---

Joanne Beaumont cursed vehemently, dodging around the slower traffic and laying on the horn liberally. Couldn't they see the flashing lights for crying out loud? She was in a police car, the stupid shits.

She didn't have all the details, just the bare bones of what had happened. A sniper at the courthouse. Jesus. Just when she thought she'd seen all the craziness Houston had to offer someone upped the ante.

Two men wounded, one of them hers. God damn it. Why did it always have to be one of her guys? Couldn't the criminals find someone else just this once? Or couldn't hers find somewhere else to be, learn to dodge and keep their heads down?

She pulled into the hospital parking lot with a squeal of tires, neatly dodging a pick up truck. Joanne glared at the 'no parking' sign near the entrance and defiantly parked the car. They could tow the damn thing if they wanted to. She didn't have time to drive around looking for an open space.

She's already wasted enough time. She hadn't even gotten the call until Joe was already at the hospital. Stupid quarterly meeting with the mayor and councilmen. Why no one thought to interrupt that pointless meeting was beyond her. How could anyone think that meeting was more important than taking care of her guys?

She hesitated in front of the doors for a moment. It wouldn't do to look as frazzled as she felt. Levon was probably holding it together by the skin of his teeth. She owed it to him to at least look calm and collected.

Joanne stopped by the admissions desk. It took only seconds to learn where she could find Joe. All the nurse knew was that he was still in surgery. Joanne grimaced. That told her almost nothing about what shape he was in.

She headed for the elevators and the sixth floor. Joanne brushed her hair impatiently out of her eyes. One of these days she was going to cut it all off.

She tapped her foot impatiently watching the numbers move upward. She should have taken the stairs. The exercise would have helped. She made a mental note for the next time, even as she hoped there never would be a next time.

She stepped off the elevator and headed for the lounge. She wasn't surprised to see Levon pacing. He looked more calm than she felt, but then he rarely ever looked rattled. Only people who knew him would know how uncharacteristic his tracking back and forth, pace measured and slow, was for the blond.

She saw something glinting in his hand. It had to be Joe's pendant. The last time Joe had been injured, Levon had held on to that beloved bit of metal like it was a life line. Joe did the same thing with Levon's bracelet.

He looked up as she approached, stopping in mid stride. Levon nodded to her. "Joanne."

His voice sounded so rough, like it hurt to speak. She knew that feeling. It is hard to sound normal when what you really want to do is scream, she thought, reaching out to touch his arm.

There were patches of dried blood on his clothing, but Levon's hands and face were clean. She guessed he'd stopped in a rest room at some point. Joanne made a note to see if she could track down a change of clothes for him later.

"You okay?"

Levon blinked. "I'm fine."

She winced internally. Sometimes she really wished he'd learn to lie better. "Can you tell me what happened?"

In the past, Levon had always found helpful to go over the details. It seemed to draw his attention away from the present, even though the past was probably not any better at least it was over and done with. The past couldn't get any worse; it was the future that was unknown.

"Don't really know what all happened." Levon shook his head. He looked down at the pendant in his hand, thumb lightly rubbing the sterling oval.

"Then just tell me what you do know," Joanne encouraged softly.

"Heard the call on the radio..." Levon sighed, his voice fading out before he started again.

Joanne listened carefully to what Levon had to say. His guilt over not doing more for Joe on the courthouse steps was readily apparent. In his place, Joanne wasn't sure she'd have made the right choice to help the more gravelly wounded stranger.

"You did the right thing."

Levon snorted. "Guy died anyway, Joanne." Brown eyes looked bleakly at the doors that lead to where Joe was still in surgery. It wasn't hard to guess what Levon was thinking.

"Have they said-"

"Haven't heard a word." Levon took a slow deep breath. He started to pace again.

Joanne let him go. She found a seat that gave her a clear view of the surgery doors and Levon. She didn't bother to pick up one of the out of date magazines. It wasn't like she wanted to read the damn things anyway.

"How long-"

"About an hour." Levon answered, glancing at the doors. He bit his lower lip, wrapping his arms around himself. Joanne didn't think being cold had anything to do with the shiver she saw.

She tried not to read too much into the time. If it were just a flesh wound, something simple, an hour would be more than long enough for someone to have come out and talk to Levon. But one hour wasn't even close to being long enough if it were truly serious. She'd known accident victims that were in surgery for several hours at a time.

Joanne resisted the urge to join Levon in pacing. She eyed the clock. The lounge was so quiet it was easy to hear the clock tick. Not even Levon's measured steps covered the audible passing of time.

Joanne gave the clock a dirty look. She wondered if anyone would notice if she ripped the damn think off the wall. Probably not.

She spotted a small coffee maker similar to the ones often kept in hotels. Figuring they might need the fortification, Joanne started a pot. She compromised between making it stronger than she liked and weaker than she knew Levon would prefer.

The sound of the coffee perking nicely drowned out the clock. The fragrance took a bit of the sterile edge off the smell of the lounge. It was far from comfortable, but it was better Joanne decided.

She was getting ready to pour a cup when the surgery doors opened. Joanne studied the man approaching the lounge. She ignored the blood on his scrubs. That didn't mean anything; certainly not as much as his expression.

Shit. She'd seen that one a bit too often. He had bad news. From the way Levon's back stiffened she knew he thought the same thing.

"Are you here for Joseph Lafiamma?"

"Yeah." Levon's answer was barely audible. He looked decidedly pale. Joanne moved closer, ready to offer physical support as well as emotional if he needed it.

"I'm Doctor Anders. I was on Mr. LaFiamma's surgical team." Anders cleared his throat. "There were complications."

"Complications." Levon repeated warily, eyes narrowing. The muscle along his jaw flexed; Joanne could almost hear his teeth grinding.

"I'm sorry." Anders' tone was warm and gentle, and with another person it might have had the desired response.

Levon reached out and fisted a hand in his shirt, the hold tight enough to whiten his knuckles. "What do you mean, you're sorry?"

Anders eyes widened, but he didn't try to shake off Levon's hold. He raised a hand to curl around Levon's wrist. "Mr. LaFiamma...he didn't make it."

"That can't...." Levon shook Anders, pushing the man backward but not releasing his grip. "He wasn't hurt that bad. He wasn't." It was more a plea than a statement of fact. "He was breathing okay. His heartbeat...I saw it in the damn monitor in the ambulance. They said--"

"I'm sorry." Anders looked genuinely apologetic. "He'd lost too much blood before we could get a transfusion started. Clots can happen under those conditions. They can cause cardiac arrest or even a stroke if they move far enough. There was nothing we could do."

Levon shuddered, growing even more pale. Joanne put a hand under his elbow as a precaution. She'd never be able to hold his weight if he collapsed, but she could at least slow his descent to the floor.

"Levon?" She really didn't like his color.

Levon slowly released his hold on Anders. "I want to see him."

That didn't surprise Joanne. Levon would naturally want confirmation, to see with his own eyes that Joe was really dead. Joanne swallowed hard. How could he be... focus, woman, Joanne mentally berated herself, you can fall apart later, Levon needs you now.

"I'm not sure that's a good-"

"I want to see him, Joanne." Golden brown eyes speared her with a hard look. "I need to see him."

Anders shook his head. "I don't really think-"

"Shut up," Levon hissed. "You don't get a say."

"It's not a good idea for you to-"

Levon poked Anders in the chest, hard, forcing the doctor back a step. "Told you to shut up."

"Levon." Joanne grabbed his arm. "He's not the enemy."

"He killed Joe." Levon glared at Anders, grief and anger rolling off the blond in waves.

"No, he didn't." Joanne stepped in front of Levon, putting herself between her friend and the doctor. "You know better than that."

"He didn't save him," Levon's voice cracked, breaking for a moment under the strain. "Same damn thing."

Joanne could almost feel the doctor flinch. She felt bad for Anders, but he wasn't her concern at the moment, other than to make sure Levon didn't physically hurt him.

"Levon, that's enough." Joanne's tone was sharp, but not loud. Shouting had never been necessary to get Levon's attention.

"Ain't even close to enough. Joe is...gone." Levon's jaw tightened, his chin coming up in a stubborn expression Joanne was all too familiar with. "Someone will answer for that."

"Someone will," Joanne promised. They would make sure of it. "But the doctors aren't at fault here." She really hoped that was the case. If she found out it was negligence, Levon would be the least of the hospital's worries.

"Joe wouldn't want you to hurt an innocent bystander." Joanne carefully laid a hand on Levon's chest, keeping his focus on her. "He wouldn't want that."

Levon shook his head. He looked down at her, eyes bleak and cold. "What he wants don't matter a hell of a lot now, does it?"

Joanne tried not to wince. "You don't mean that."

Levon glared at her. "Don't tell me what I mean."

"Levon-"

"He's...dead." Levon swallowed hard, stumbling over the last word. Over bright eyes met hers squarely. "He wasn't supposed to die, Joanne." Levon's voice dropped to a harsh, pained whisper. "He wasn't supposed to do that, damn it."

"I know, honey, I know." Joanne reached up to cup his cheek.

Levon jerked away from her touch, his expression hardening again. Joanne could almost see him pulling a shield around himself. He didn't want and wouldn't accept sympathy or comfort. He hadn't when Caroline died either, damn the man.

Levon gave Anders a fierce look. "I want to see him." It was not a request.

Anders cleared his throat. "It will take us a few minutes to-"

"You got five." Levon's lips curled in a nasty smile. Joanne could hear that damn clock ticking again, marking out time.

"You really should give us a chance to clean him up a little." Anders' voice was still soft and gentle. Joanne gave him points for trying.

"Saw him bleeding his life out on the courthouse steps." The hand still holding Joe's pendant clenched into a tight fist. "Saw him in the ambulance on the way here. Pretty sure I can handle seeing him on a slab."

Joanne shivered. Those bare statements of fact, uncompromising and unforgiving, made the room seem a lot colder. 'Slab' sounded so damn final. It was final, she realized. Joe was dead. Her gut hurt just thinking about it.

She had a grief counselor's card in her purse. Levon certainly wouldn't use that service, but maybe they could give her guidance on how help him in spite of himself. Hell, she might need the counseling for herself when it was all said and done. She'd never lost one of her own before.

"We haven't moved him to the morgue yet." Anders pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand.

"Then I'll see him in surgery." Levon sounded reasonable, but there was no mistaking the 'giving no ground' look on his face.

"I..ah...,"Anders cleared his throat. "It's really not protocol to allow non-hospital personnel into a sterile room."

Levon arched an eyebrow. "Thinking he won't get an infection, Doc."

"No." Anders sighed. "But we might need the room again in short order." He squared his shoulders. "I won't be able to allow you in there for long." He looked away, eyes moving toward the doors he'd recently come through. "It's the best I can do unless you are willing to give me more time."

Levon closed his eyes and nodded sharply. "It'll do for now."

Joanne wasn't sure why he was being so stubborn about this, but now wasn't the time to ask. At least he hadn't totally withdrawn the way he had right after Caroline had been killed. He'd been completely silent for the better part of three days after that happened.

"I'll be back when I've got things set up."

"I'll be here." Levon pointed to the ticking clock. "Got four minutes and thirty three seconds. After that, I find him myself."

Joanne knew he was serious about that. So too did Anders, if his pensive expression was anything to go by. The doctor nodded once before headed back through the doors to the operating room.

Levon's attention was focused on the clock. Joanne grimaced. She should have torn the damn thing off the wall when she had a chance.

Joanne shook her head. She hoped Anders could get things set up in the time allotted. Trying to keep Levon in the lounge wouldn't be an option, not without drawing her gun. Somehow she didn't think her long time friend would believe her capable of shooting him. She couldn't see it deterring him much even if he did believe she'd do it.

Joanne wanted to say something, something that would help, but for the life of her she had no idea what. Even if Levon and Joe weren't a couple, they'd been partners for years--best friends and confidants, trusted each other implicitly. Death of one was bound to hit the other hard. This was going to be worse than Caroline. A lot worse.

Joanne liked it better when Levon was pacing. His focus on the clock was decidedly unnerving. She sighed silently. She hated feeling helpless.

She found herself tracking sweeping second hand. She'd never realized before just how long a few minutes could really be. Joanne could feel her anxiety rising with each sweep of the second hand. It felt like she was watching a timer on a bomb.

She gave the surgery doors a sour look. How long did it take to get a room ready for crying out loud? Levon was holding it together for now, but she had no idea how long he could continue to do so. Hell, she didn't know how much longer she would be able to either.

She stifled a sigh of relief when Anders reappeared. Levon barely acknowledged the man. He moved past him into the short hall. Joanne was hard on his heels.

"It's the-"

"Room with the doors propped open," Levon finished for him without looking back over his shoulder.

He hesitated for a moment in the door way. Joanne thought that he might have changed his mind, but Levon took a deep breath, his spine straightening as he crossed the threshold. She bit her lip and followed him.

She deliberately put off looking at the body on the table. Joanne winced. Joe had always been so energetic, so full of life. It was wrong to think of him as being a 'body'.

The refuse of the doctors' efforts to save Joe was gathered in one area. Joanne's jaw tightened as the sight and scent of blood hit her almost at the same time. Her eyes darted to the heart monitoring machine. The monitor's blank screen silent declared the obvious; no heartbeat.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to look at Joe. She made a note to thank Anders for making sure there was a clean sheet drawn up to cover everything but Joe's face. Somehow she didn't think either she or Levon could handle seeing Joe cut open or covered in blood.

Joe almost looked like he was sleeping. Almost. She'd never seen him that pale, or so still.

Levon stepped closer. Joanne could see his hand tremble as he reached out to touch Joe. Anders made some noise behind her, probably wanting to interfere. Joanne shot him a hard look, stopping him from saying or doing anything.

Levon lightly brushed his fingers through Joe's hair. Joanne flinched at the soft, choked sob Levon made. She thought he might actually break down and moved forward, but stopped herself from reaching out to him when she saw his lips compressed into a thin, hard line.

He took a slow, shaky breath before leaning forward and placing a kiss on Joe's forehead. Levon whispered something she couldn't hear, but she had no doubt he was making a promise. She hoped like hell someone found the sniper before Levon did.

Levon straightened up. He looked at Anders. "I want our coroner to do the autopsy."

Anders' eyes widened. Joanne was surprised to see him look uneasy. "An autopsy is standard procedure in a homicide," she reminded him.

"It can be done here," Anders' offered.

"No." Levon shook his head. He gave Anders a cold, appraising look. "If it was you fuckin' up that killed him, I want ta know that too."

Anders paled and then flushed. "We did not kill him."

"You better hope not," Levon whispered.

Joanne shivered. The quiet tone marked Levon at his most dangerous. Anders evidently realized that. He took a step backwards.

"You'll need to...ah," Anders coughed nervously, "You'll need to make arrangements at the front desk."

Levon nodded. Joanne couldn't be sure if his raising two fingers to the brim of his hat was a conscious salute or just habit. She suspected it was the latter.

Levon gave Joe's body one last look before he turned and walked away. Joanne moved quickly to follow. She had to stretch her legs to keep up with him. Joanne had forgotten just how fast he could move when he put his mind to it.

She knew he'd leave her behind if she didn't keep up. Fortunately, Joanne was also his ride. Even if he didn't know it yet. She mentally braced herself for the argument she knew was coming when she drove him to the ranch instead of back to the office.

---

Anders' breathed a soft sigh of relief when the two police officers left. The blond was one scary son of a bitch. "Being on that one's bad side is not a pleasant place to be."

He shook his head, dark eyes glancing to the man on the table. He envied the man having a friend like Levon Lundy. He hoped like hell someone would care that much when he was dead.

Anders jumped when he heard a throat clearing behind him. He spun, glaring that the man in a blue pinstripe suite. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Better question is what were they doing in here?"

"You try telling Levon Lundy no." Anders snorted. "Would love to see how well you do."

"I could have sworn we asked you not to complicate things, Doctor."

"I'm not sure how letting the man's partner see him is a complication."

"Don't be coy, Doctor."

Anders decided he preferred Lundy's direct and open threats. At least he knew where he stood with that man. Somehow I can't see him lurking in shadows or playing cloak and dagger games, Anders thought with a tired sigh.

"I have work to do."

The man nodded once. "We all do, Doctor. We all do."

---

Levon took a slow, deep breath. He held out his right hand, pleased to see it no longer shook, and that the knuckles weren't too badly swollen. Punching the wall wasn't his brightest move, but it beat the alternative.

His rage at Joanne for taking him to the ranch rather than the office had been so white hot, for a moment he'd been unable to control it. His first instinct had been to lash out at her. Levon was grateful she had the good sense to stay well out of reach.

Levon took another slow, deep breath. The shower had helped. Not that the water could make everything better. Nothing was ever going to be better. But at least he was clean. That had to count for something.

His bloody clothing was piled up on the bathroom floor. They weren't salvageable. Even if they were, Levon never wanted to see them again. He planned to burn them later.

With infinite care, Levon picked up Joe's pendant from where he'd hung it earlier on the hook his lover had placed next to the vanity. He swallowed painfully, jaw clenching against the sob that threatened to break free. He undid the clasp then placed the pendant around his own neck.

The metal felt cool against his skin, and he almost took it off again. Joe had worn the pendant every day since Levon had given it to him. It felt paradoxically right and wrong to see against his own chest instead of his lover's.

Levon left the bathroom and headed into the bedroom. He forced himself not to look at the bed. It was hard to believe it was just that morning they'd made love there, leaving the bed unmade because they were pressed for time.

He grabbed the first shirt he could find in the closet, making a conscious effort not to touch any of Joe's clothing. I'll have to do something with all his....Levon forcibly cut off that thought. None of that mattered. Not now. All that mattered was finding the miserable son of a bitch that killed Joe.

"I will find him," Levon whispered to himself. "I will find him, and make him pay."

He finished dressing quickly. If Joanne thought she'd be able to keep him here, she was sadly mistaken. It didn't matter that both the Jimmy and the Cobra were parked near the courthouse. He wasn't too far out for a cab. And Chicken would pick him up if need be. All he had to do was call and the big man would be at the ranch in no time.

Levon headed back to the living room. Joanne gave him a nervous look, but at least she didn't look afraid of him. He still felt bad about nearly hitting her. She was doing what she thought was right.

"Levon-"

"No."

"You don't even-"

"Yeah, I do know what you are going to say." Levon gave her a level look. He'd heard all of it before when Caroline was killed. 'It is too personal for you to be involved. Stay out of it. Let someone else handle it. You need to give yourself time to grieve and deal with your loss.'

His jaw clenched. He wasn't going to listen to all that bullshit again. It had been a mistake to listen then, and he wasn't going to make the same one twice.

"I am NOT going to just sit here and wait for other people to handle it."

"You are too close to this." Her voice was gentle, full of compassion and understanding he didn't want or need.

"That's why I can't let someone else handle it, Joanne." Levon was not going to back down. He couldn't. He had to find the guy who killed Joe. It was the last thing he'd ever do, and by god he was going to do it right.

"You need to-"

"I need to find the son of a bitch that killed, Joe." Levon cut her off. "I can't do that here."

Joanne hesitated. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she worked through the options. It didn't take her long to figure out she didn't have any. She had to know he'd work the case with or without her approval.

"You will not be going off half-cocked."

Levon knew she'd intended for that to be an absolute order, something he agreed to or she'd do her best to force him to stay at the ranch. So he nodded, fingers crossed behind his back. It wasn't his fault their definition of 'half-cocked' differed.

"No going off on your own either."

Levon fought back his instinctive declaration that he had a partner and didn't need another one. He hadn't been solo on the job in years. Not since Joe had come to Houston. His chest hurt thinking he was on his own now.

"I mean it, Levon." Joanne had apparently taken his silence for rebellion.

He nodded firmly once. He wasn't sure who the hell he'd be willing to work with at this point. It didn't matter. As long as whoever it was didn't get in the way or slow him down.

Joanne sighed. She squared her shoulders a bit. "Where to first?"

Levon silently let out the breath he'd been holding. "Need to pick up the Cobra."

Joanne nodded. "I'll drive."

He smirked. "Figured." He was willing to compromise for now. He had to.

While she drove, he went over what he knew about what happened. It helped deal with the nearly overwhelming sense of loss; he'd deal with the painful ache that settled in his chest later. He went over the order of events that happened only a few hours ago.

There had to be something there. The how might be the clue to the why. Once he got how and why, who shouldn't be too hard to figure out.

First order of business was the sniper's nest, Levon decided. He said as much to Joanne. She gave him a look but didn't argue.

Joanne followed him to the roof. They passed a few uniforms along the way. Most sent him sympathetic glances, the others were wary. Levon ignored them.

The sniper's nest was just down the street from the courthouse. It had a clear line of sight which meant the courthouse was probably not an accidental target. And the busted lock on the door that led to the roof made it clear the building hadn't been selected just as a moment of opportunity. It had been deliberately chosen.

The shooter could have just been some psycho bent on revenge, a rampage killing spree thing. Levon dismissed that option. The man would have emptied the gun if that was the case. Only three shots were fired, all placed in a limited area.

So who had been the target? Levon frowned as he crouched down where the sniper had to have been. Was this personal? Was Joe the intended target? He could have been. There were enough people seeking revenge out there it wasn't out of the question.

But Joe wasn't the only one shot. So maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Levon didn't know anything about the other victim. He made a note to find out.

"They find any brass?" he tossed over his shoulder to Joanne.

"One casing."

He looked at her in surprise. He hadn't expected that. A pro shouldn't have left it behind.

"Nearly missed the damn thing from what I've been told." She grimaced and pointed to a small crevice in the concrete. Sniper probably hadn't had time to grab it or might have over looked it.

"Annie has it now."

With any luck Annie would find something for them. Even if they just had a sense of what weapon the sniper had used, it would help. The distance of the shot alone meant he had to have some training.

Levon studied the kill zone, wincing mentally at the name. The whole front of the courthouse was still cordoned off as a crime scene. He took in the view and tried to envision the scene.

"When was the first shot fired?"

"Just a little before noon."

Levon bit his lip. The timing seemed significant. It had to be. Maximum damage would have been done when there were more people to shoot at. So the sniper had to be looking for someone specific.

He clearly remembered the people he'd seen crouching for cover behind the parked cars. There hadn't been that many. Ten, maybe fifteen at the most. He made another note to get a list of those people. It was possible one of them might have been the target. He didn't know where they'd been when the first shot was fired.

"Judge Reese has a schedule you could set a watch by," Levon murmured.

Joanne cocked her head, looking at him and then toward the courthouse. "Related to Joe's case, you think?"

Levon shook his head. "Not directly."

"Why?"

"If it was, sniper would have taken the shots before court started." Levon's jaw tightened. "Joe should have already testified by noon."

Joanne nodded. "I'll check with the DA and make sure."

"Think those are still working?" Levon pointed to the surveillance cameras that perched atop the courthouse. They'd been added a year ago in response to death threats being levied against one of the judges.

"Already requested copies of the tapes."

"Good."

He gave the rooftop one final look. Levon didn't really expect to find anything. The tech guys were thorough and efficient. He just needed to see it to understand a little more about the quality and nature of the shooter.

He headed for the door and down the stairs. Fingerprint powder dusted the handrail, but Levon didn't think they'd find anything. If the guy knew what he was doing he'd have worn gloves. It was really just dumb luck they'd found the casing.

Levon briefly considered heading to the courthouse steps, but decided there was nothing to be learned there. The video would give him a better idea of what had actually happened. And he really didn't need to see the blood stain that he knew discolored the marble where Joe and the stranger had lay bleeding.

"They find any slugs?" Levon pointed to the courthouse.

"Found one too badly mangled to be of any use." Joanne shook her head. "Rest...we'll need to wait for autopsy to know."

Levon hid a wince. He didn't want to think about that. Not now. He'd been right. There was nothing at the courthouse to see.

He headed for the parking deck where Joe had probably left the Cobra. Joanne followed him. He tried not to be annoyed.

Levon pulled the spare keys from his pocket. Joe's keys had been in his personal effects, but Levon hadn't been able to bring himself to use them. He just couldn't.

"I'll meet you back at the station."

Joanne shook her head. "I'll come with you."

"You gonna leave your car here?"

"I'll send someone for it." She shrugged. "Perk of the job."

Levon bit back a nasty comment about not needing a babysitter. Once they got to the station he'd have no trouble ditching her. Administrative stuff would pull her away. And she'd assign someone else to shadow him, hopefully someone he could lose.

He opened the door rather than step over it. He couldn't be disrespectful of Joe's car. Not now. God what the hell was he going to do with the Cobra? Levon took a deep breath and filed that under things he wasn't going to have to deal with.

The car purred to life just like it always did. Levon patted the steering wheel fondly. He put it in gear and headed for the office.

He was glad Joanne didn't try to talk to him. Levon preferred to spend the time think through what he wanted to do. The video, he decided was the first thing he needed to see. It would give him a sense of the order of events. Then he wanted to know more about the stranger and the other people who'd been outside the courthouse. If he could pin down the target, he'd have a better idea of why the shooter wanted him or her dead, which should give him a good lead on who the shooter was. Or at least who might have hired the bastard.

Levon drove with an ingrained, nearly instinctive skill. He wasn't paying much attention to the traffic around him, until he realized a sedan was following a bit more closely than it should be. He glanced over at Joanne.

"You notice we got a tail?"

She flipped down the visor, looking like she was checking her reflection while she eyed the car behind them. "Dark blue sedan?"

"Yep."

"Can you lose them?"

"Do we want to?" Levon countered. They had no idea who was following, or why. Losing them seemed a bit premature.

Joanne pursed her lips, clearly following his line of thought. "Let's see if they follow us all the way to the office. We can always run the plates."

Levon nodded. It might be nothing, just a coincidence, but he didn't really believe that.

"This could mean you and Joe were both targets," Joanne said quietly. "Protective custody might-"

"No," Levon snapped out forcefully, managing not to shout. He was not about to be locked away and watched like some prisoner.

"Levon-"

"No." He gave her a hard look. "We don't even know yet IF Joe was the target."

"Well the tail we picked up sure seems to suggest-"

Levon held up a hand, stopping her. "I want to view the tapes from the courthouse. I need to find out more about the guy who got killed and the other people that might have been targets too. That's at least a couple of hours at the office."

"We can find out who those guys are," Levon pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, "by then."

"And if they are related to the shooting in any way-"

"We'll argue about protective custody again."

She glared at him. Levon ignored her. He checked to make sure their tail was still there. They'd backed off as he got closer to the station, but were still following.

As Levon pulled into the parking garage the sedan passed them. He made a note of the plate number. He knew Joanne did too.

"You wanna run it?"

"Yes."

He'd expected that. She wouldn't want to be left out of the loop and didn't trust him to keep her informed. Levon had always respected her intelligence. She knew him well.

Levon took a slow deep breath before he got out of the car. He knew he was going to be receiving a lot of sympathetic or worried glances. They had to know by now what happened.

"You okay?" Joanne laid a hand on his arm.

"It wasn't any picnic with Caroline," Levon stated quietly, shuddering at the memories that arose from that time. "This is going to be so much worse."

"You up for this?"

"I have to be." Levon took another deep breath.

He got out of the car. He squared his shoulders. He'd handled it before, he could do it again. Joe would be counting on him to find his killer. He couldn't let him down.

Levon took the stairs rather than the elevator. He knew he was simply delaying the inevitable, but he couldn't help wanting to avoid people for as long as possible. Joanne kept pace with him, offering silent support.

Levon held the door for her when they got to their floor. "I'll find out where the videos are and have them brought to you," Joanne said as she passed, patting his arm.

Levon nodded. He'd put a call into one of the tech guys and see if he could get a room. He'd check in with Annie too. She might have something on that casing by now.

Levon studiously ignored the rest of the office as he made his way to his desk. He didn't look at Joe's desk either. It hurt too much to see that empty space and know it would remain that way.

He picked up the phone, finger poised to dial when Carol approached his desk. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Levon looked away. He knew she read his body language correctly, when she turned and walked away without saying a word. He'd have to thank her later.

Levon was damn glad the tech guys knew enough to just agree to what he was asking for. He didn't want to have to explain it. He'd have ripped into them if they'd asked too many questions or said too much. They didn't deserve the brunt of his anger.

Esteban approached his desk carrying several video tapes. "Lieutenant asked me to help," he offered quietly.

Levon hesitated. He didn't want help. Didn't want to deal with another person.

"Por favor, Levon." Esteban's dark eyes met his evenly. "He was my friend too."

Levon closed his eyes, nodding slowly. He'd expected to be assigned someone. Esteban was as good choice as any. They'd worked well together in the past. And he was right, Joe was his friend too. It wouldn't be right to deny him a chance to help nail the bastard who'd killed him.

Esteban followed him down to the tech lab he'd secured. Levon was grateful the building seemed oddly deserted. He wouldn't put it past Joanne to have sent out a memo or made a few calls or something to get people to back off. He'd have to remember to thank her. He had a feeling he'd be thanking a lot of people before all was said and done.

Levon let the Hispanic cop set up the equipment. He took a slow deep breath, trying to prepare himself to watch his best friend and lover get shot. He unconsciously fingered Joe's pendant.

"This one is the North camera." Esteban pointed at one TV. He nodded to another. "This one is the South."

Levon nodded. The angles would be slightly different. No telling which would give them the best view of events until the tapes had been reviewed.

"Cue up North first," Levon directed. Based on where he'd found Joe and the stranger on the steps Levon thought that would probably give them the best view.

"From the beginning?"

"Yeah."

Esteban found the right day and then fast forwarded through the early morning hours. He slowed it to normal speed when people began arriving. The first were naturally courthouse personnel. Levon recognized several of the clerks and bailiffs. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

As the time stamp got closer to 9:00 am, activity picked up. Lawyers, political types and reporters began appearing. Levon sat forward, watching more closely.

He struggled to breathe normally when he spotted Joe amidst the sparse crowd. Even without being able to see his face, Levon knew it was Joe. Forcing himself to look away he ordered Esteban to stop the tape so he could deliberately scan the crowd, examining the entire frame. He pointed to a man only a few feet from Joe.

"That's our other victim." Levon glanced over at Esteban. "We got an ID on him yet?"

"Not yet." Esteban shook his head. "Body and effects only got to the morgue a little before you got here."

Levon frowned. "Should have-"

"Was an accident on the freeway." Esteban made a helpless gesture with one hand. "Hospital got busy. Morgue deliveries were not a priority."

Levon nodded. The living should take precedence over the dead. He'd check in with the morgue after they were done here.

Esteban started the tape again, in slow motion. Levon eyed each frame. His eyes narrowed as he watched the action unfold frame by frame.

"It me or does it look like our stranger is keeping tabs on Joe?"

"It's not you." Esteban sat forward. "He is shadowing Joe."

"Coincidence?"

Esteban grimaced. "No creo."

"Yeah. Me neither."

Esteban fast forwarded the tape through the midmorning hours. The only activity around the courthouse then was infrequent. There was nothing obvious or helpful there. Levon wished the focus of the camera wasn't fixed on the front steps and portico. He would have liked a wider view that took in the buildings across the street.

Esteban slowed the tape again as the time stamp got closer to noon. Levon spotted Judge Reese's bailiff leaving the courthouse. The man slowed to talk to a woman Levon thought might be one of the clerks responsible for transcription in Reese's courtroom. Behind them he saw a few other people he thought he might have seen hiding near the cars when he'd arrived at the scene.

"We get a list of names for the people who'd been outside?"

Esteban nodded. "Joe-Bill and Legs are talking to them."

Levon absorbed that bit of information. He knew he wouldn't be able to control all aspects of the investigation. No matter how much he wanted to. He had to pick his battles with care on this one.

Esteban advanced the film slowly. Levon watched as Joe left the building. He clenched his hand into a fist, trying to prepare himself for what he knew was about to happen.

He could tell from Joe's stride and set of his shoulders that he was relaxed and happy. The case must have gone well. It was oddly comforting to know things had gone well for Joe that morning.

Levon's gaze narrowed. Joe's shadow was there again. Just who the hell was that guy?

He watched at he man looked up, toward the building where the sniper's nest had been found. What had he seen?

"Back it up," Levon instructed Esteban. "Advance one frame at a time."

The camera didn't catch anything that Levon could see that would have caught the other man's attention. But if the sniper had a laser scope the red light would have been lost in grainy black and white footage. The angle of the camera wasn't giving them a frontal view either.

The stranger narrowed the gap between him and Joe. He must have said something because Joe turned looking back over his shoulder. The man reached Joe, pushing or pulling him to the side. It was hard to tell for sure.

Levon flinched when he saw what he knew was a bullet hit Joe in the shoulder. His lover moved in response to the force of it, and fell to the marble steps where Levon had found him. The stranger fell a second later.

Levon clenched his jaw. "Rewind it." He wanted, needed to be sure of the sequence of things.

Joe was hit first. Shooter had a clear line of sight. No mistaking the target. The stranger, whatever he was doing shadowing Joe, clearly didn't have a sinister intent. At least not when it came to what happened on the courthouse steps.

"Need to know who the hell he was." He'd tried to save Joe. Levon owed it to the guy to find his family, see to it he was buried proper. And he wanted to know what the man was doing at the courthouse. Did he know something?

"Concuerdo." Esteban nodded. He reached for the phone. "I'll call the morgue and see if they've got his stuff yet. Can have that sent up to us at least."

Levon hit the eject button, removing the first tape. He cued up the other one. He hoped it had a better view of events.

Esteban hung up after a brief conversation. "Annie is having the guy's things sent to us here."

"Good." Levon started the second tape. The angle gave him a clearer view of Joe's face as he entered the courthouse, but not much else was different.

He mentally cursed the limited scope of the camera. Even with a better shot of the front steps and sidewalk there was still no view of the street and buildings beyond. Damn.

He forced himself to watch Joe getting shot again, deliberately ignoring the action in favor of trying to catch more of what was going on elsewhere. He watched the civilians ducking for cover, watched for any more shots fired. The limited number of shots was another bit of evidence that proved Joe was the target. The sniper quit firing when he was down; no random shots at other targets. Man was definitely a professional.

"You catch anything?" Levon asked hoping that maybe Esteban had seen something he hadn't.

"Same as the first one." Esteban pursed his lips, looking as frustrated as Levon felt. Dark eyes narrowed as they studied the TV screen. "Miserable bastard was aiming for Joe."

A soft knock at the door announced the arrival of the stranger's personal effects. Levon let Esteban open the door. The fewer people he had to talk to the better. He didn't care if it made him cowardly or selfish.

Esteban placed himself in the doorway, effectively blocking the courier's view in the room. He took the proffered box with a soft 'thanks' and shut the door.

"Gracias." He dipped his head to Esteban.

"De nada." Esteban gave him a sympathetic, understanding look.

Esteban set the box on the table. There wasn't much inside: A watch, a wallet, another billfold, some loose change and a few pieces of paper. Levon hoped it was enough to give them something to go on. The guy clearly knew something and had acted to help.

Curiosity piqued by the plain billfold, Levon reached for that first. He cursed softly when he saw what was with in. "A fucking fed."

"OCB?" Esteban frowned, looking confused.

"Organized Crime Bureau." Levon snarled. "Part of the FBI. They keep track of the mob."

"Related to Joe's familia then?"

Levon nodded tersely. Everyone knew about Joe's family. Everyone knew about why he'd been exiled from Chicago. But that didn't explain why the hell a fed would be shadowing him.

"Joe isn't a part of that shit." Levon growled. He shook his head. "He wasn't...he didn't have anything to-"

"I know." Esteban interrupted, one hand encircling Levon's wrist, forcing him to let go of the billfold he'd been crushing.

Levon took a deep breath and released it slowly. He had to get a grip on himself. Just have to see this through, he mentally reminded himself, see it through and after that you can fall apart.

Levon glanced down at the federal ID. Carson Hughes. Whatever else he'd been, the man had tried to help and he'd died making the effort.

He reached for the wallet. Inside was the usual stuff: drivers license, credit card, social security card, two tens and a twenty. What caught Levon's attention was a hotel key card. He removed it, holding it between two fingers.

"Might be our next stop."

"Driver's license is from Illinois." Esteban tapped the photo ID. "Senor Hughes is a long way from home."

Levon noticed the empty holster. He wondered if the Hughes had left his gun somewhere safe knowing he couldn't take it into the courthouse. Joe's were still in the glove box of the Cobra. He needed to make sure they were secured.

Levon unfolded the pieces of paper not at all surprised to find a court schedule and a picture of Joe. He offered them to Esteban. It was confirmation of what they'd already seen.

They'd established Joe was the target. Now they needed to determine why, and how, a fed figured into that. He was willing to bet a week's pay the sedan that had followed him and Joanne would prove to be tied to the FBI somehow too. He didn't believe in coincidences, and he'd yet to see the feds travel solo. They moved in packs, like wolves or hyenas.

Levon tossed everything, including the videos back into the box. "We'll lock this up and head out."

Esteban nodded. "Let us go see what more the gringo's room will tell us."

---

Levon sighed quietly. He was tired. No he was more than tired, he was exhausted.

He eyed the rising sun, not at all pleased to see it. This marked the third one since the shooting and he hadn't slept since then. He couldn't. Every time he lay down and closed his eyes he saw Joe bleeding his life out on the courthouse steps. Levon kept reaching for Joe, hoping to find him and realize it was just a nightmare. But the cool sheets that met his hand and empty bed hammered home the painful truth every time.

Levon clenched his jaw fighting off the images that were indelibly imprinted on his mind's eye. He winced when a dull ache reminded him he'd been clenching his teeth far too often lately.

He stared at the phone. The call had to be made. Putting it off wouldn't make it better or easier.

Levon had fought with Joanne about calling Joe's family. He hadn't wanted to call them until they had Joe's killer. He wanted to have that closure to give them. Wanted to have that closure for himself. Unfortunately, the only way he'd find it was by making the call.

"Fucking feds," Levon cursed softly. They knew more than they were telling. What he didn't understand was why they didn't seem interested in doing more to help find the sniper--he'd killed one of their own after all.

They wouldn't explain Carson Hughes presence at the courthouse. They'd even gone so far as to try denying him being there at all. Levon grimaced. It was just more proof to him that the FBI wasn't the brain trust they tried to portray themselves as.

He really wanted a stiff drink, but he'd smashed every bottle of alcohol in the house the night Joe died. He wasn't going down that road again. He'd very nearly given into the temptation when the hospital let him know they'd managed to misplace Joe's body.

Levon's hands curled into fists. He'd been distractedly aware that the pile up on the freeway that happened the same day as the shooting would cause problems, but he'd never expected it would lead to the hospital losing Joe. He'd ripped into the bearer of that bad news. If Esteban hadn't been close at hand, Levon would have used his fists in addition to harsh words to get his point across.

So now he not only had to tell Joe's Uncle Mikey that his nephew was dead, he had to tell him the hospital had misplaced the body, and ask if the man knew anything about a possible mob hit that would help nail Joe's killer. "Nothing quite like covering all the bases," Levon muttered to himself.

He took a breath and picked up the phone. He dialed the number from memory. He closed his eyes as he listened to the rings, torn between hoping someone would answer quickly and wishing no one would.

"LaFiamma residence."

Levon didn't recognize the voice. "I need to speak to Michael LaFiamma, please."

"And you are?"

"Levon Lundy." Levon hesitated for only a moment. "It's about his nephew, Joe."

"Joey?"

Levon flinched hearing the nickname said with such affection and familiarity. "Yes."

There was a small pause and Levon realized something in his voice must have relayed this wasn't a social call. It was probably a good thing. At least Mikey would be prepared.

"Is it bad?"

How the hell was he supposed to answer that? The truth was all he had to offer. "Yeah."

"Hold on. I'll get Mikey."

Levon took another slow deep breath. He'd met Michael LaFiamma only once more than four years ago. But he had no trouble picturing the man. Broad shouldered, still a fit man for his age, a bit of gray showing at his temples, sharp blue eyes. Joe would probably have looked a bit like him in another decade if he'd-Levon sharply cut off that train of thought.

"This is Mikey."

"I don't know if you remember me or not, Sir." He owed the man at least that much respect.

"I remember you." The gravelly voice was neutral. "My sister, Rosa, speaks highly of you."

"I have-"

"Bad news." Mikey finished for him. He sounded as though he was bracing himself. Levon could relate all too well to that. "Give it to me."

"Friday, shortly before noon....Joe was shot and killed on the courthouse steps." God, it hurt to say it out loud.

"Friday," Mikey breathed out in a harsh whisper. "Why am I only learning of this now?"

"I needed time to find his killer."

"Does this walking corpse have a name?"

"No, Sir." Levon pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I've gone as far as I can with the investigation, but the FBI is stonewalling me."

"The feds." It wasn't quite a curse but it was close.

"Yeah." Levon gave Mikey the facts of the case; the trail he'd followed up to this point. It was a huge break in protocol, but Levon didn't care.

"Is there something going on in Chicago?" Levon asked quietly. "Nothing we found ties into anything here."

Mikey sighed softly. "There is some...unrest here."

"And that translates into what exactly?" Levon knew the question was more of a demand, but he didn't give a damn.

"Transition of power in another family."

Levon considered that. He didn't even pretend to understand the politics that ruled Mob families, but transition of power didn't sound like a good thing. It could mean anything from an old Don dieing to an all out coup.

Mikey sighed softly. "Hostilities have become a bit less discrete."

Levon grimaced. "War?"

"Not openly declared." Mikey's tone clearly said that was about to change. "There were rumblings and posturing, but they have not challenged me on my own turf. Going after Joey is a clear sign that old allegiances and truces are not being honored."

Levon grimaced. He wasn't sure what deal with the devil had been made to call off the hit that had been part of Joe's exile to Houston. He hadn't wanted to know. And after four years, Levon hadn't thought it mattered any more. Clearly, he was wrong.

"Can you get me a name?"

There was a brief hesitation from Mikey. "Give me one hour."

"You need the number?"

"I already have it."

Levon nodded to himself. He should have expected that. "Will you...tell the rest of the family or do you want me-"

"Thank you for the offer, Mr. Lundy." Mikey cut him off gently. "It would be best if they hear it from me I think. They can all be told at once."

"Thank you."

"You'll keep me posted?"

"Yes, Sir." Levon responded, recognizing there was more order than request in the question. He cleared his throat. "The rest of the family...You'll make sure they are okay?" He worried about the members of Joe's family he knew and even the ones he'd never met. He didn't want any more of Joe's kin to fall victim to a feud they might have had nothing to do with.

"I have failed to protect my family once, Mr. Lundy. I will not do so again."

"Good." Levon didn't know if Mikey could keep that promise, but he sure as hell hoped so. Forewarned was forearmed, or so he'd heard.

Levon pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "I'll wait for your call."

"Rosa will want to talk to you, I'm sure." Mikey was clearly asking if Levon wanted to speak to her or for him to run interference.

Levon fingered Joe's pendant, considering the offer. He'd found himself doing that more and more often. "Tell her...tell Rosa I'll call her."

"You take care of yourself, you hear."

Levon sighed silently. He had enough people worrying about him. "Plan to." At least until he had Joe's sniper behind bars or in a pine box, either worked for him.

---

Part 2