Fic - SGA/Numb3rs; Row With Fresh Oars (1/2)
Title: Row With Fresh Oars
Author: bergann
Fandom: Numb3rs/Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Colby Granger/Evan Lorne
Rating: light R
Word Count: 13 880
Summary: Evan digs out his cell phone from where it had fallen out, wedged into the back of the seat. There are a total of twelve new missed calls: Nikki, Laura, Charlie, Laura, Nikki, Mitchell, Laura, Colby, Daniel, his SGC lawyer, Laura, Laura. "Shit," he says, staring at the call log as his stomach pools with dread. Something's happened to Atlantis.
Disclaimer: fic•tion [fíksh'n]: literary works of imagination
Author's Note: bluflamingo mentioned wanting my take on a story where Lorne's part of the FBI team, and once the hint was there, it just wouldn’t let go. Thanks go out to the Aussie Betas for looking this over for me. ♥ Title from a Hush Sound song.
This includes minor plotlines from bluflamingo's Redefinition, and is AU in a lot of very small ways -- Lorne's four years younger and SGA 5.20 never happened, and the plotline for the last season of Numb3rs has been kind of...muddled.
2013
Evan's stuck in a closet, of all things, with Don for the better part of four hours after their suspect unexpectedly comes home early while they're still in the process of planting bugs, and with some armed company.
They're both armed, but two armed FBI agents against five armed thugs is still a bad plan.
Don says there's no way Nikki and the others will risk storming in when they know Don and Evan are in there, especially not when there's no way there'd be grounds for putting these guys behind bars. Besides, there are FBI agents in a van down the road aware of their situation and able to communicate with the others about the wisdom of storming into the house.
This leaves them stuck in the closet playing increasingly cut-throat games of tic-tac-toe on the back of some receipts dug out from their wallets until there's the sound of voices shouting goodbye and the front door slamming shut.
"You think they're gone?" Don asks, pen hovering over the paper halfway finished with an X.
"God I hope so," Evan says with feeling. His legs passed beyond the point of cramping a couple of hours ago.
They ball up their receipts, erasing any evidence of the hours spent there, and with their gun in hand; they slowly creep out of the closet and down the hall. They find their suspect on the couch, bottles of beer all over the table, and Don elbows him in the stomach as he ducks back behind the wall.
"He's sleeping," Evan says, which means they do their best to move out of the house as quietly and quickly as possible.
Safely back in the car, after letting the agents in the van know they're out alright and wishing them luck with the eavesdropping, they take some time to just laugh with relief and over the absurdity of the situation, before Don starts the engine and they head back to the office.
Evan digs out his cell phone from where it had fallen out, wedged into the back of the seat. There are a total of twelve new missed calls: Nikki, Laura, Charlie, Laura, Nikki, Mitchell, Laura, Colby, Daniel, his SGC lawyer, Laura, Laura. "Shit," he says, staring at the call log as his stomach pools with dread. Something's happened to Atlantis.
"Is something wrong?" Don asks, glancing over.
"I don't know," Evan answers, knows he can't make any sort of useful call while still in the car with Don, so instead he changes over to the contacts and says instead, "We should probably let the others know what took us so long."
Don nods, laughing a little, "Doesn't matter how fast you tell them, we're still going to hear about it for ages."
"Yeah," Evan agrees, and calls Nikki anyway to let her know that yes, they're out okay. Yeah, they realize how funny this is. Yes, they'll be back soon.
It takes another hour, and another missed call from Laura, before Evan's home and able to return the calls. He figures he might as well start with the one who seems most desperate to get in touch with him, who will also be the safest, and dials Laura's number as soon as he's through the door.
"Finally!" She says, answering after the very first ring. "You fucker, I thought you were ignoring me!"
"Long day at work," Evan says, "What's going on?"
"You don't know?" Laura asks, "I mean, I figured the news would be new when I first called but by now, how can you not know? What kind of rock does the FBI put you under?"
"Laura, just tell me now whether or not I should be looking for my nice suit." Evan's not begging, but he's close to it, full of restless energy that makes him start to wander the apartment just to displace some of it. He doesn't worry about Atlantis now as often as he had in the beginning, when he'd spent nearly every other day acutely aware in a way he'd never been before of the fact that he has friends in a completely different universe, going to unexplored planets with potentially unfriendly alien races.
"Why would you --" She starts, sounding confused before realization hits, "Oh. Evan, no. It's not that. Atlantis is safe. This? This is good news."
"What kind of good news has you, Mitchell, Daniel and my SGC lawyer calling me within minutes of each other?" Evan asks, because aside from Laura, the main form of communication with his past is pretty much just e-mail. They wouldn't call unless it was something big.
Laura laughs. "Shit, that's one way of rooting out some of the formerly perceived bad seeds," she says. There's a note from Colby on the kitchen counter, hastily scrawled Watching the game at David's. Back later. "Evan, they've removed the ban."
"What?"
"Hold on, listen to this," Laura says, and there's the rustling of some paper. "'President Obama announced today at a White House press conference that the rumors regarding the repeal of the 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' policy are completely true. New directives have been drawn that will allow homosexuals and lesbians to serve in the U.S. military without fear of discharge.'"
"What?"
"Evan, that's not even all! He said they're opening up for re-enlistment for anyone who was discharged under the policy. There's even talk of those who'd been working on classified projects being allowed back on them so long as they pass a couple of evaluations."
It's been four years since Evan had to leave Atlantis, two years since the nation got truly restless over the ongoing debate on the gay ban, but the policy codified at section 654 of Title 10, United States Code -- the reason he had to leave in the first place -- has finally been successfully repealed.
*
2009
It's the first night in over three weeks Evan sleeps relatively well. Usually, he sleeps better next to Colby than he does on Atlantis -- the apartment is usually equated to a sanctuary, even with the occasional bad memory tied here and there, but it's just not happening this time. He thinks Colby knows something is up, but he's giving Evan room to approach him with it first.
He's debating whether or not to join Colby in the kitchen before he disappears off to work, feeling rested now, when the phone rings.
There's the low murmur of Colby's voice for a few moments before he appears in the doorway, holding it out to Evan. "It's Erika," he says, and disappears out of the bedroom as soon as the phone is out of his hands.
"Hello?"
"So I guess I should be happy I'm not the only one who was unaware of your discharge from the Air Force," Erika says, her voice tight with emotion. "I was angry before, but in a way some shouting would've cured. Now I want to fly down there and kick your ass! You didn't even tell Colby?"
"What?" Evan says, just as there's the very distinctive sound of the front door slamming shut. He walks out of the bedroom to find Colby's breakfast still there, half-eaten, and the rest of the apartment empty. "Shit."
"You, Evan Lorne, are an idiot," Erika says. "It's been two weeks. Never mind that you apparently didn't see fit to tell your own sister and so I had to hear it from my husband, but how the hell could you not have told him? He's your boyfriend!"
"Erika," Evan tries, but she's on a roll.
"No, you listen to me little brother. I am sorry you got discharged, I know how much you loved your job -- wherever it was you were stationed and whatever the hell it was you did there -- but you should have told him about it the minute you came back. You should have called while you were waiting on the paperwork; scratch that, you should have waited for them with him. Do you know what kind of signal it sends when you don't mention to him that you've added to the gay discharge statistic?"
"I just needed some time," Evan says, and the excuse sounds weak even to his ears. His intention had been to tell Colby every day, but there'd always been something causing the words to stick in his throat. "Fuck, I don't know, okay? We never discussed this. We specifically didn't discuss this, because frankly, it wasn't anything I even wanted to think about. We just -- we never discussed this."
"Evan, I love you, but are you honestly telling me you're afraid he's going to -- what? Ask you to leave? Tell you he's not ready to see his boyfriend more than a week every three months, and that's only if he's lucky?"
"Now it sounds stupid."
"It already sounded stupid," Erika says, "I know you guys are too manly to ever talk about silly things like your feelings to each other, but allow me to act as interpreter: Colby loves you just as much as you love him. If you don't talk to him, he's going to think you're blaming him for the entire thing, and if you don't apologize pronto, he's going to think you hate him for it."
"I don't --" The words stop, too many responses to choose just one, because blaming Colby for the loss of Atlantis had never even occurred to him. The possibility that Colby might think he does feels a lot like a punch to the gut from Ronon did.
"I know you don't," Erika's voice is gentle, like she can hear all the words he's not saying. "Which is good, because if you did, I'd fucking hate to be your sister. It takes two to fuck, and sometimes it takes a government to fuck people over. You should remind him of that."
"Erika --"
"I'm still angry you didn't tell me," She interrupts, "But I don't kick a man when he's down, so I'm postponing our conversation about this until you've squared things up with Colby. Oh, and Evan?"
He swallows. "Yeah?"
"Congratulations on your promotion."
"Thank you," he says, and sits with the dial tone buzzing in his ear for a long moment before going back into the bedroom to get dressed.
*
His memories of that last week on Atlantis are mostly a hazy blur as though he's looking at them through fog.
There are three memories which stand out clearly, in between all the upset and commiserating words of friends, better than Woolsey's determined arguments with the SGC bureaucrats, and better than Radek's incensed search for loopholes.
The first is Sheppard's face as he announced his orders from the SGC to open up a limited inquiry on suspected conduct unbecoming. It's minutes before Sheppard's team is scheduled to go off world, a three-day mission, and Evan hadn't been surprised at all when he later learned that Sheppard had kept the orders secret. If Woolsey had known, the mission would've had to be cancelled and the inquiry started immediately. As it is, Sheppard'll be able to claim he hadn't seen it until he got back. "With any luck, maybe I'll get shot somewhere non-fatal," he says, and the real kicker is that he probably means it, "Give you more time."
Three days later, the team had stepped back onto Atlantis, and Sheppard had said, "Man, so the one time a cultural misunderstanding is desired, the chief's daughter isn't interested."
The second memory is of Teyla showing up at his room, two days before he'd been scheduled to leave. "Athos and its people would welcome you with open arms, Evan, and help you."
He's smiling as he replies with, "As tempting as it is to go AWOL, I kind of owe it to someone to go back to Earth."
Teyla bows her head, touching their foreheads together, and that close he's able to see her eyes glittering. "I thought as such, but felt you should be entirely aware of your choices."
"Thank you. For everything."
"I am and always will be your friend, Evan Lorne," Teyla says, a small smile on her face that tells him she is well aware of the words she's using. "And I hope you would do me one last favor, one friend to another, and join me and my people for tea."
"I'm not allowed out of the city."
"I am aware. However, I believe it is one of your Earth sayings that if the mountain will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain. John and Rodney were more than happy to ferry us from the mainland."
"It'd be my pleasure," Evan answers, and the clarity of that particular memory always ends there, dissolving instead into a jumbled mess of tea, dance and tearful goodbyes.
The third memory is of Colonel Mitchell, barely minutes after Evan's stepped through the gate back to Earth to start the discharge process, grinning slightly as he promoted Evan to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. "I submitted the paperwork a while back, but wasn't sure it'd make it through in time."
"You have a good lawyer," Radek informs him after, who'd actually come through the gate with him as 'moral support' and been the one to hire Evan's civilian lawyer. He hadn't asked, either, just informed Evan after the fact he now has a civilian lawyer to handle his case. "You can now get separation pay at O-5 pay grade. It's half-pay still, but it can make all the difference, yes?"
Evan hadn't really cared if his half-pay was $6,000 more than it would have been at an O-4 pay grade, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.
Besides, it'd given him a kind of perverse pleasure to get promoted while in the process of an honorable discharge for conduct unbecoming.
*
"You just missed him," David says when Evan enters the FBI office. "He's out canvassing an apartment building for leads with Don."
"Nearly gave me a black eye in the process," Nikki puts in dryly, wandering out from their conference room. "Idaho was awfully enthusiastic about that detail."
"Any idea when he'll be back?"
"Depends on their luck," David shrugs, "Probably around lunch. You can probably wait at his desk if you want."
It's three hours until lunch, but Evan still decides to accept the offer. "Thanks."
David nods, turning back to his work, and Nikki follows suit. Evan's left staring kind of blankly at the things on Colby's desk, until David says, "Hey," and nudges his arm with the corner of a book. "Since you're going to be waiting, might as well spend the time reading something that doesn't stand a chance of potentially getting you in trouble."
Evan accepts the copy of The FBI Career Guide with a raised eyebrow.
"So," David says ignoring Evan's expression. In a way, Evan's kind of grateful that he's not even trying for casual. "What's happened this time?"
Evan snorts. "Isn't it bad enough you usually end up involved even when you don't ask?"
David shrugs, looking slightly sheepish. "You're my friends. I don't mind, and no offense, but you're both kind of idiots. Someone's got to step in and be the voice of reason."
"None taken," Evan says wryly, "But I think in this instance I should explain things to him first."
"I get that," David says, "But I'm your friend too. If you want to talk, I'll listen."
"Thanks."
"Enjoy the book," David says, grinning a little as he moves back to his desk. "It's a real page turner."
Evan takes a moment to just stare at the cover of the book, before he decides that it's a better option than just staring out at the office and thinking.
He abandons the book after the third hour passes, unable to concentrate anymore, and takes a brief smoke outside that he bums off a woman who tells the same story about trying to quit that everyone does, even as she was handing one over.
He's barely back at Colby's desk for ten minutes, just watching the elevator and not really expecting anything, when Don and Colby step out with takeout boxes. There's a small halt in Colby's steps when he spots him.
They disappear into the break room with the food, but Evan remains where he is, waiting. He gets to his feet once Colby comes back out, shifting nervously. "Hey."
"I thought we could go to lunch," Evan says, "I owe you an explanation."
"I can probably leave for an hour," Colby nods. "You been smoking?"
"Yeah," Evan says, doesn't elaborate or mention that it's not his first since coming back, even as relief floods through him along with the urge to just spill everything. "You want to go some place close?"
"Sure," Colby says, letting the smoking go. "I don't really feel like driving, and I'm guessing you took a cab."
"Actually, I walked."
"What?" Colby laughs a little, obviously not taking him seriously, which Evan can kind of understand. Colby's apartment isn't really that far from the office, but it's still a long walk -- especially in a city like Los Angeles where walking has become practically outdated. "You're serious."
"Yeah," Evan says, slightly awkward smile on his face. "I needed the time to think."
Colby doesn't answer, just casts him a calculating glance, and leads the way to a diner two blocks down.
"Can't mess with the stereotypes," he says as they enter, grinning. He'd relaxed a bit once they'd hit the street, as though he'd been as unwilling as Evan to have this particular conversation in a governmental building. Old habits die hard, Evan supposes, as they slide into a secluded booth.
They don't talk about it until after the food, instead Colby talks about this crazy lady he and Don had run into while going door-to-door, who'd thought Don was her run-away nephew or something. They discuss the current case a little, compliment the food -- it's kind of a miracle they don't get started on the weather.
But once the plates are cleared away and they're left with their drinks, Colby leans back against the vinyl and says, his voice deceptively neutral, "So what happened?"
"Remember I called you after my leave got cancelled a couple of months back?"
Colby nods, looking a little like he thinks Evan is crazy. "Yeah, there was an unscheduled mission."
Actually, an alien pathogen had erupted from some plant SG-8 had brought through the 'gate and everyone on base had ended up quarantined for a week until the doctors figured out how to remove the green spots. But that's not something Evan will ever be able to tell Colby, so he just nods instead. "Apparently a visiting Lieutenant General known for his bigot views overheard a statement indicating my likelihood to engage in conduct he perceived unbecoming of an Air Force service member. He notified the Major General of my base, who held onto it until the Lieutenant General started pressuring him and he had no choice but to pass the inquiry down to my commanding officer."
"Shit," Colby says.
"He warned me," Evan says, feels this need to make it clear that at least his CO did that for him. "He had a three-day mission. Told me before he moved out. Once he was back, they tried to postpone it even more, but this Lieutenant General wanted an example made. He implied my command would be going against the statue and regulations too by not pursuing the matter. Once that message reached us, the inquiry lasted a couple of days before I was shipped back stateside." He tries for a smile, fighting back the memories, but he doesn't think the smile's all that successful. "A month later the last of it was done, and I was officially honorably discharged. Expecting my O-5 pay grade separation pay any day now."
There'd been nothing for it. His case hadn't been a case on falsely accused injustice like the reports and newspapers usually quoted. He'd broken the regulations, and once the SGC had exhausted their procrastination options, there'd been no other option than an Honorable Discharge for Conduct Unbecoming.
"O-5 pay grade?" Colby says, frowning. "Thought Majors were O-4."
"A week before my discharge papers were finalized, I was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel."
Colby laughs, like Evan had expected he would. "Always nice to know the military's still dealing with paperwork the same pace as always."
"Yeah," they grin at each other for a moment, sharing the joke, before Evan grows serious again and adds, "I meant to tell you once I got back, first thing I meant to say. I just -- it never really hit me until I got here that I can't go back, and it took me a while to deal with that."
Colby nods slowly. "I get that."
The thing is that Colby really doesn't. He's probably imagining Evan's just going through the adjustment every soldier returning from a war zone goes through. There's some of that, but mostly he's been feeling the loss of a home. Of a whole other universe. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
"Don't worry about that," Colby says, "Situations like these are becoming kind of familiar."
"Hopefully the last one," Evan acknowledges. "I know we haven't talked about this kind of situation, we haven't planned anything, so if you'd rather I get my own --"
"If you end that sentence with 'place', we're going to end right back at square one," Colby interrupts. "I'm really sorry you lost your job, Evan. It sucks that after all you've put into your career, they discharged you for this. But I can't -- I can't pretend like I'm not glad you won't be leaving again at the end of the week. I'm in this, same as I was when I had no idea whether or not you're at the wrong end of a gun."
Before Evan can say anything, they're interrupted by Colby's cell phone going off. Colby shoots him an apologetic look and the cell an annoyed one before he answers.
"We have a break in the case," he says, "Someone heard we were asking questions, showed up at the office to answer a few. I've got to go. You want the car?"
"Nah," Evan shakes his head, "I think I'll call Laura, see if she hasn't got time for an old friend."
"She knows?"
"Don't think so," Evan says, "Or she'd have made it clear she knows by now."
Colby snorts, shrugging on his jacket. "Too bad I'll miss it. I'll see you later." Evan acknowledges it with a grin, tilts his head up because he can now, without worrying about consequences, and Colby's smiling as he leans in to kiss him.
"Unexpected perk," Evan says, smirking, and Colby chuckles.
"This? This we're definitely talking about later," Colby says, and then he's gone.
"He's sweet," their waitress says, coming up to the table.
Evan's feeling pretty good about everything right now, so he smiles up at her and says, "You only say that because he didn't leave you with the check."
*
He hadn't actually expected Laura to be home, but she enthusiastically invites him over on the condition that he brings beer.
"What are you doing back?" She asks, letting him in after giving him a hug and liberating him of the six-pack. "Is it just you? I haven't heard anything from the others."
"Just me," Evan says, "It's a kind of permanent thing."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Laura says, looking suddenly vulnerable.
"I'm the proud new owner of a DD-214," Evan says, "For conduct unbecoming. We match now."
"You fucker," Laura says, shoving at his chest. "How can you joke about that? What the fuck happened? You wouldn't have left voluntarily."
"It's a long story."
"You're not leaving until you do," Laura says, "How come you didn't tell me? How come nobody told me?"
"To be fair, most of the people who would tell you are in another universe."
"That doesn't excuse you," Laura says, but she doesn't punch him or shove him this time. "Fuck, I'm sorry, that's an insensitive response."
Evan shrugs, gives a half-hearted grin. "I know better than to expect sensitive from you."
Laura sticks her tongue out at him, and disappears into the kitchen for a moment to put the beer into the refrigerator before returning with only two. They sit and talk for a while about Atlantis, and Laura's job, just circling the real elephant in the room until Evan folds while he's on his third beer and she's still on her first. He recounts the complete details of his discharge. In a way it's more freeing to tell it to Laura, who he doesn't have to censor anything from because of security clearances and confidentiality agreements. "You adjusting?" She asks, when he's done.
"Kind of," Evan says, a half-truth and Laura knows it. "I'll get there. It's hitting me more now that Colby and Erika know."
"You need something real to do." Laura says, "Build a cabin, help the hungry, or get a job. That sort of thing. Until I had a job, all I could think about was Atlantis. What I'd be doing there, how I'd be making McKay's life difficult, all that. Didn't matter I was with Jeanette or that I'd left voluntarily, I was still thinking of it."
"Where'd I work?"
"I can't see you in any old job," Laura admits. "But you've got your impressive engineering degree. That opens up some doors for you."
"I was considering the FBI," Evan says, and he's not sure who's more surprised by the admission. It had been this half-formed thought that'd been in his head since he'd put down the career guide three hours earlier, but he hadn't actually seriously been considering it.
"Really?" Laura asks, eyebrows rising. "Are you joining in Colby's footsteps?"
"I don't know," Evan says, "If I don't join now, I won't be able to. They stop accepting at thirty-seven."
Laura raises her eyebrows. "And the process takes how long?"
"Six months for the application, maybe a little less if Colby gets Don to put a word in. Then five months at the Academy. No way of telling with the security clearance."
"You'd be cutting it close," Laura says. "You sure you want to make the decision under that kind of deadline? You won't even get to enjoy some vacation time."
"Better than making it too late," he shrugs.
Laura hums. "I guess, and you can always drop out if you change your mind."
Evan laughs a little. "That'll be a good story for Colby's friends."
"You told him you're considering it?" Laura asks curiously, "Because the country is big. You won't be able to request a transfer until at least, what? Two years later?"
"This you know about?"
She shrugs. "No, that was mostly guessing."
"I haven't told him," Evan says, "I wasn't even aware I was seriously considering it until I told you."
"Well," Laura grins. "When you've put that much consideration into it, it's clearly a great idea. Go for it."
"Leave me alone," Evan says, "I've recently been through a very trying ordeal."
Laura snorts. "Then it's good that doesn't matter to me, as I've heard myself been called both insensitive and unsympathetic."
"That last one wasn't me."
"I know," Laura says, "I just thought I'd make it clear before I ask my next question."
"Which is?"
"Why are you drinking now?" She's studying at him carefully all of a sudden, her eyes sharp.
"What?"
"It's 1400 hours," she says, "and you've just had an, by all accounts, lovely lunch with your very special agent, yet in my company alone you've had four beers. So as a friend, I'm asking you: are you drinking because you've lost Atlantis, because you're mad you got discharged, or because you're afraid Colby'll realize that if there'd been a choice, between him or Atlantis, he might not have won?"
"I'll see myself out," Evan says, already on his feet by 'company'. "Thanks for the talk."
"Evan!" Laura shouts after him, since he's only touching every third step. "Lorne, you stupid son of a bitch, you can't avoid this!"
*
"Hey," Colby calls from the kitchen, once the door slams shut behind Evan. "Where you been?"
"Gym," Evan says, dumping his sweaty clothes in the hamper. "You've been home long?"
"Nah, maybe half an hour. I figured I'd start dinner, call if you didn't show up by the time it was done." Colby's sitting at the kitchen table, newspaper open in front of him and one eye on the boiling water on the stove. He looks up when Evan walks into the room, gives him a happy smile. "We solved the case."
"Yeah?" Evan says, deliberately going for a water bottle instead of the beer next to it in the fridge. He leans against the counter next to Colby, just far enough away to not be in the way.
Colby starts talking about the case, and their witness caller who'd turned out to be paranoid enough to have a security camera pointing down the hall in the direction of the apartment the body was found in. It keeps them going through dinner, and it's so comfortable and normal that Evan isn't expecting it when Colby suddenly goes, "So Laura called me today in a panic," while they're on the couch.
Evan can't help but tense, even though he knows Colby can feel it and will make note of it. "Yeah?"
"She said she's sorry," Colby says, running a soothing palm down Evan's spine. "Invited us over for dinner once Jeanette gets back this weekend."
"Nothing else?"
Colby shrugs. "Not really."
"Okay," Evan says, "I'll -- I'll call her tomorrow."
"Okay," Colby repeats, no particular infliction in his voice at all. There's a brief surge of anger towards him for never really pushing unless Evan asks or makes him, even though that's been one of the things Evan's always appreciated about their relationship -- how Colby'd never pushed or asked when the details of the stories Evan told to keep his cover didn't add up.
"I'm going to go to bed," Evan says, only lifts himself up enough to first press his lips against Colby's before getting off the couch completely.
"I'll be in once this ends," Colby says, gesturing towards the TV with the remote. Evan nods and slips out of the room.
He lies still for a long time before he falls asleep, just lying there with his eyes closed, telling himself Atlantis is lost to him. He should do the smart thing, the considerate thing, and accept it before he loses the ability to keep himself in check.
*
Two days later, Colby has a day off. Evan had kind of expected them to spend it in the apartment, but Colby wakes him at five AM to go surfing. Surfing has always been more Colby's thing than Evan's; he likes it fine, but not with the same level of enthusiasm as Colby, who can talk about it for hours once you get him started.
It's not that often they go surfing together either, though it's not unheard of, and Colby's smiling through breakfast, talking about the huge front that's rolled in. They dig out the boards and wetsuits. Amazingly enough, they're in the car and on their way already by five-thirty.
They end up at Redondo Breakwater, six to eight footers crashing against the shore. It means the beach is already a little crowded, but Colby doesn't seem to care and Evan doesn't mind.
Even he can admit the waves are incredible, but eventually the size is big enough that he feels it best to retreat up to the beach and just watch instead. The sea has always had an incredible calming effect on him, exhilarating and therapeutic at once, the crash of waves against the shore triggering something inside him. If he closes his eyes, he can almost believe he's sitting on a pier in Atlantis.
Some teens eventually rope him into a game of volleyball, and by the time Colby's out of the water, he's breathing a little harder than he'd really like to admit.
"You feel like Mexican?" Colby asks, and he's smiling with exhilaration. Water is still dripping from his frame, and Evan's a little proud that he waits until after he's begged out of the game and they're over by the car before he pulls him close for a quick, bruising kiss that's maybe a little too dirty for a public setting.
"We'll have to wait until you're actually dry enough to be allowed inside," Evan says.
Colby chuckles, changing out of the wetsuit and into board shorts and a t-shirt Evan recognizes as his own. It's only fair, because Evan's fairly certain the shirt he's wearing belonged to Colby once. "They're used to it," Colby says, "If we walk, I'll be completely dry by the time we get there."
"Don't they work you hard enough at the FBI?" Evan asks once they're at the restaurant, amused over the fact that the walk had turned into a light jog instead. "Where's all this energy coming from?"
Colby shrugs. "I haven't been drinking and smoking like a pro the past couple of weeks either," he says, one eye still on the waves.
And, well, there's no real reply Evan can give to that, really, so he changes the subject with a very obvious, "You think the FBI would be interested in hiring a discharged pilot?"
"You thinking of becoming an agent?" Colby asks, surprised.
"I think it might be the only job for me back on -- back here," Evan says, swallowing the 'Earth' that he'd nearly let slip. "None of the others I've considered really hold much interest."
"You're allowed to relax and take some time off before you jump into another time-consuming job," Colby says. "You've only been out for a little over a month. Going into the Bureau isn't the same as picking up a pack of smokes and a six-pack of beer. You shouldn't treat them the same."
"I'm not. The smoking and the beer -- I finished my last pack today. I don't have any plans of getting a new one, and the beer will be strictly social," he shrugs, "I'm only asking now because the application process takes a while, and they don't accept those over thirty-seven. If I want to join, I need to do it now."
Colby nods slowly. "Okay," he says. "Okay. Well, you're kind of an ideal candidate for the Bureau, even more so with your Ph.D. Me and Don will probably be able to get you through the process a little faster, once you're contacted after the online application. If you really want to do this, you should go for it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Colby says, "I know I'd feel better knowing you were watching my back."
It isn't until later, back in the apartment, that Colby's expression becomes shuttered as he says, "You realize we'll probably see even less of each other than we did before?"
"What?"
"There's no telling where you'll be stationed," Colby says, all in a rush, like he's been keeping in the words all day. He probably has. "New agents don't really have a choice. Maybe we'll be lucky and you'll end up in the state, but you're just as likely to end up on the other side of the country. You can ask for a transfer after two years, but they usually don't happen until after four. Before, you at least had leave every couple of months. I'm not saying you shouldn't apply, but I wanted you to at least know, completely, before you did."
"Colby," Evan says softly, fingers catching him by the wrist. Colby moves quick, using the contact to pull Evan in, gripping his hips and waist tightly, fingers digging into flesh. Evan's fingers are tugging up Colby's shirt without any real thought, everything running on instinct and need.
Their mouths aren't touching, a small space still separating them that marks the tension between them better than Colby's eyes that hold a resigned look, this sudden awareness over the fact he's fallen for someone who's not really meant to stay still -- especially not after something as huge as Atlantis. It makes Evan ache, and he thinks there's as much a chance of this turning into a physical fight at the wrong step as there is for this tension to lead to truly fantastic sex.
The moment snaps, suddenly, and Colby's kissing him with intensity, soft lips and sharp teeth that nip on his lip in reprimand when he tries to shift them towards the bed. In a way, Evan's successful, as Colby backs off just enough to push him onto the bed.
Evan wants to tell him that he wouldn't leave, would be equally happy here, if he's asked to stay, but he feels like the words would ruin the moment and he keeps shut, implies it instead in the slide of his hand from Colby's chest, to his side, to his hip.
*
"You should apply," Erika says, when he calls her the next morning and explains everything. There'd been some shouting first, and tears from her side, as well as a brief interlude where Mark and Joe had wanted to say hi before going to school.
He'd been woken up by Colby's phone in the middle of the night, keeping his eyes closed as he listened to Colby's side of the conversation. He'd nearly fallen back asleep when Colby had sat back down on the edge of the bed, and told him to send in the application to the Bureau, so long as he put a little bit more thought into it and was sure that he wouldn't suddenly regret it later.
"A few days ago you were shouting at me for giving him the implication that I'd want to leave him because of this," Evan says, "Isn't that exactly what I would actually be doing that if I go?"
"No," Erika says, "There's a difference between the two."
"Yeah?"
"Before there was the possibility that you resented him at a base level for putting you in that position in the first place. This implies that you're dealing and accepting and moving on from it. It might --" Erika's quiet for a long moment, before she continues, "-- it might be a little faster than we'd been expecting, but it's still a good sign. This is also familiar to him -- he knows this territory and from the sound of things, he might feel that this is the best way for you."
"How so?"
"You're already used to being apart from each other," Erika says, "I'm just using my high school psych degree here, but I think he's afraid that by forcing you to stay might ruin everything in the long run. That's uncharted territory, and right now you're both equally lost. Plus, there's always that one other thing."
Evan swallows. "What's that?"
"He loves you," Erika says simply, "He wants you to be happy, no matter what. Same as if he suddenly decided to quit his job and start a surf shop. Would you stop him?"
"No."
"It's as simple as that, sometimes," Erika says. "If you want to do this, then you should. It might not be where you expected to end up, but I think you'd do just fine as an agent. Who knows, maybe you'll even enjoy it."
"When did you become the smart one?"
Erika laughs. "As a high school dropout, I mostly do it to annoy my doctored brother."
"Getting back where you can, huh?" Evan says, and stares at the FBI's Online Application page for an hour after hanging up before he hits 'send'.
He goes for a run.
*
Evan's never really thought all that much about the fact that Colby's friends know, other than an always present low-key relief around them that he doesn't have to watch every move. He's grateful for the fact that they do now, though, as it makes it easier to explain the state of things and his request to Don.
"Wow," Don says, "I had no idea this was happening."
"I wasn't exactly broadcasting it," Evan says. "Colby only found out a week ago."
"Shit," Don winces. "That's why he was all -- weird at work."
"Yeah," Evan sighs, "I could have handled it better."
"After something like that, who could blame you? Everyone would be a little messed up after that," Don shrugs. "I'll see what I can do to help push the process along on this end for you."
"Thanks," Evan says, "But that wasn't -- that wasn't the main reason I came here to tell you."
"Oh yeah?" Don's face shifts back into surprise. "Then why?"
"Is it possible that you could save the string pulling for possibly getting me a job somewhere in the area after I'm done at the Academy?"
Don's face clears. "I don't know," he says, "I mean, it's not like I'm the most influential person around, y'know, and things like that are supposed to be left to the needs. But I can definitely talk to some people, see if I can't pull a few favors."
"Thank you, Don," Evan says, "I really appreciate it."
"No problem, man," he says, clapping him on the back. "Does Colby know of this?"
"I don't --" Evan sighs, "I don't like the thought of keeping anything more from him, but I still feel like it's just better if I tell him only when I'm certain I'll be put somewhere close."
Don nods slowly. "Okay. You guys haven't had the easiest time, but I doubt your stationing is going to ruin anything. I get that though. I mean, I don't really like keeping anything from him, but I'll try and keep it low-key for you."
"This isn't so much that I'm worried about ruining anything," Evan says, "But if it's going to happen, I want it to be a surprise."
Don grins. "Now that's something I can support."
continue
Author: bergann
Fandom: Numb3rs/Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Colby Granger/Evan Lorne
Rating: light R
Word Count: 13 880
Summary: Evan digs out his cell phone from where it had fallen out, wedged into the back of the seat. There are a total of twelve new missed calls: Nikki, Laura, Charlie, Laura, Nikki, Mitchell, Laura, Colby, Daniel, his SGC lawyer, Laura, Laura. "Shit," he says, staring at the call log as his stomach pools with dread. Something's happened to Atlantis.
Disclaimer: fic•tion [fíksh'n]: literary works of imagination
Author's Note: bluflamingo mentioned wanting my take on a story where Lorne's part of the FBI team, and once the hint was there, it just wouldn’t let go. Thanks go out to the Aussie Betas for looking this over for me. ♥ Title from a Hush Sound song.
This includes minor plotlines from bluflamingo's Redefinition, and is AU in a lot of very small ways -- Lorne's four years younger and SGA 5.20 never happened, and the plotline for the last season of Numb3rs has been kind of...muddled.
2013
Evan's stuck in a closet, of all things, with Don for the better part of four hours after their suspect unexpectedly comes home early while they're still in the process of planting bugs, and with some armed company.
They're both armed, but two armed FBI agents against five armed thugs is still a bad plan.
Don says there's no way Nikki and the others will risk storming in when they know Don and Evan are in there, especially not when there's no way there'd be grounds for putting these guys behind bars. Besides, there are FBI agents in a van down the road aware of their situation and able to communicate with the others about the wisdom of storming into the house.
This leaves them stuck in the closet playing increasingly cut-throat games of tic-tac-toe on the back of some receipts dug out from their wallets until there's the sound of voices shouting goodbye and the front door slamming shut.
"You think they're gone?" Don asks, pen hovering over the paper halfway finished with an X.
"God I hope so," Evan says with feeling. His legs passed beyond the point of cramping a couple of hours ago.
They ball up their receipts, erasing any evidence of the hours spent there, and with their gun in hand; they slowly creep out of the closet and down the hall. They find their suspect on the couch, bottles of beer all over the table, and Don elbows him in the stomach as he ducks back behind the wall.
"He's sleeping," Evan says, which means they do their best to move out of the house as quietly and quickly as possible.
Safely back in the car, after letting the agents in the van know they're out alright and wishing them luck with the eavesdropping, they take some time to just laugh with relief and over the absurdity of the situation, before Don starts the engine and they head back to the office.
Evan digs out his cell phone from where it had fallen out, wedged into the back of the seat. There are a total of twelve new missed calls: Nikki, Laura, Charlie, Laura, Nikki, Mitchell, Laura, Colby, Daniel, his SGC lawyer, Laura, Laura. "Shit," he says, staring at the call log as his stomach pools with dread. Something's happened to Atlantis.
"Is something wrong?" Don asks, glancing over.
"I don't know," Evan answers, knows he can't make any sort of useful call while still in the car with Don, so instead he changes over to the contacts and says instead, "We should probably let the others know what took us so long."
Don nods, laughing a little, "Doesn't matter how fast you tell them, we're still going to hear about it for ages."
"Yeah," Evan agrees, and calls Nikki anyway to let her know that yes, they're out okay. Yeah, they realize how funny this is. Yes, they'll be back soon.
It takes another hour, and another missed call from Laura, before Evan's home and able to return the calls. He figures he might as well start with the one who seems most desperate to get in touch with him, who will also be the safest, and dials Laura's number as soon as he's through the door.
"Finally!" She says, answering after the very first ring. "You fucker, I thought you were ignoring me!"
"Long day at work," Evan says, "What's going on?"
"You don't know?" Laura asks, "I mean, I figured the news would be new when I first called but by now, how can you not know? What kind of rock does the FBI put you under?"
"Laura, just tell me now whether or not I should be looking for my nice suit." Evan's not begging, but he's close to it, full of restless energy that makes him start to wander the apartment just to displace some of it. He doesn't worry about Atlantis now as often as he had in the beginning, when he'd spent nearly every other day acutely aware in a way he'd never been before of the fact that he has friends in a completely different universe, going to unexplored planets with potentially unfriendly alien races.
"Why would you --" She starts, sounding confused before realization hits, "Oh. Evan, no. It's not that. Atlantis is safe. This? This is good news."
"What kind of good news has you, Mitchell, Daniel and my SGC lawyer calling me within minutes of each other?" Evan asks, because aside from Laura, the main form of communication with his past is pretty much just e-mail. They wouldn't call unless it was something big.
Laura laughs. "Shit, that's one way of rooting out some of the formerly perceived bad seeds," she says. There's a note from Colby on the kitchen counter, hastily scrawled Watching the game at David's. Back later. "Evan, they've removed the ban."
"What?"
"Hold on, listen to this," Laura says, and there's the rustling of some paper. "'President Obama announced today at a White House press conference that the rumors regarding the repeal of the 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' policy are completely true. New directives have been drawn that will allow homosexuals and lesbians to serve in the U.S. military without fear of discharge.'"
"What?"
"Evan, that's not even all! He said they're opening up for re-enlistment for anyone who was discharged under the policy. There's even talk of those who'd been working on classified projects being allowed back on them so long as they pass a couple of evaluations."
It's been four years since Evan had to leave Atlantis, two years since the nation got truly restless over the ongoing debate on the gay ban, but the policy codified at section 654 of Title 10, United States Code -- the reason he had to leave in the first place -- has finally been successfully repealed.
*
2009
It's the first night in over three weeks Evan sleeps relatively well. Usually, he sleeps better next to Colby than he does on Atlantis -- the apartment is usually equated to a sanctuary, even with the occasional bad memory tied here and there, but it's just not happening this time. He thinks Colby knows something is up, but he's giving Evan room to approach him with it first.
He's debating whether or not to join Colby in the kitchen before he disappears off to work, feeling rested now, when the phone rings.
There's the low murmur of Colby's voice for a few moments before he appears in the doorway, holding it out to Evan. "It's Erika," he says, and disappears out of the bedroom as soon as the phone is out of his hands.
"Hello?"
"So I guess I should be happy I'm not the only one who was unaware of your discharge from the Air Force," Erika says, her voice tight with emotion. "I was angry before, but in a way some shouting would've cured. Now I want to fly down there and kick your ass! You didn't even tell Colby?"
"What?" Evan says, just as there's the very distinctive sound of the front door slamming shut. He walks out of the bedroom to find Colby's breakfast still there, half-eaten, and the rest of the apartment empty. "Shit."
"You, Evan Lorne, are an idiot," Erika says. "It's been two weeks. Never mind that you apparently didn't see fit to tell your own sister and so I had to hear it from my husband, but how the hell could you not have told him? He's your boyfriend!"
"Erika," Evan tries, but she's on a roll.
"No, you listen to me little brother. I am sorry you got discharged, I know how much you loved your job -- wherever it was you were stationed and whatever the hell it was you did there -- but you should have told him about it the minute you came back. You should have called while you were waiting on the paperwork; scratch that, you should have waited for them with him. Do you know what kind of signal it sends when you don't mention to him that you've added to the gay discharge statistic?"
"I just needed some time," Evan says, and the excuse sounds weak even to his ears. His intention had been to tell Colby every day, but there'd always been something causing the words to stick in his throat. "Fuck, I don't know, okay? We never discussed this. We specifically didn't discuss this, because frankly, it wasn't anything I even wanted to think about. We just -- we never discussed this."
"Evan, I love you, but are you honestly telling me you're afraid he's going to -- what? Ask you to leave? Tell you he's not ready to see his boyfriend more than a week every three months, and that's only if he's lucky?"
"Now it sounds stupid."
"It already sounded stupid," Erika says, "I know you guys are too manly to ever talk about silly things like your feelings to each other, but allow me to act as interpreter: Colby loves you just as much as you love him. If you don't talk to him, he's going to think you're blaming him for the entire thing, and if you don't apologize pronto, he's going to think you hate him for it."
"I don't --" The words stop, too many responses to choose just one, because blaming Colby for the loss of Atlantis had never even occurred to him. The possibility that Colby might think he does feels a lot like a punch to the gut from Ronon did.
"I know you don't," Erika's voice is gentle, like she can hear all the words he's not saying. "Which is good, because if you did, I'd fucking hate to be your sister. It takes two to fuck, and sometimes it takes a government to fuck people over. You should remind him of that."
"Erika --"
"I'm still angry you didn't tell me," She interrupts, "But I don't kick a man when he's down, so I'm postponing our conversation about this until you've squared things up with Colby. Oh, and Evan?"
He swallows. "Yeah?"
"Congratulations on your promotion."
"Thank you," he says, and sits with the dial tone buzzing in his ear for a long moment before going back into the bedroom to get dressed.
*
His memories of that last week on Atlantis are mostly a hazy blur as though he's looking at them through fog.
There are three memories which stand out clearly, in between all the upset and commiserating words of friends, better than Woolsey's determined arguments with the SGC bureaucrats, and better than Radek's incensed search for loopholes.
The first is Sheppard's face as he announced his orders from the SGC to open up a limited inquiry on suspected conduct unbecoming. It's minutes before Sheppard's team is scheduled to go off world, a three-day mission, and Evan hadn't been surprised at all when he later learned that Sheppard had kept the orders secret. If Woolsey had known, the mission would've had to be cancelled and the inquiry started immediately. As it is, Sheppard'll be able to claim he hadn't seen it until he got back. "With any luck, maybe I'll get shot somewhere non-fatal," he says, and the real kicker is that he probably means it, "Give you more time."
Three days later, the team had stepped back onto Atlantis, and Sheppard had said, "Man, so the one time a cultural misunderstanding is desired, the chief's daughter isn't interested."
The second memory is of Teyla showing up at his room, two days before he'd been scheduled to leave. "Athos and its people would welcome you with open arms, Evan, and help you."
He's smiling as he replies with, "As tempting as it is to go AWOL, I kind of owe it to someone to go back to Earth."
Teyla bows her head, touching their foreheads together, and that close he's able to see her eyes glittering. "I thought as such, but felt you should be entirely aware of your choices."
"Thank you. For everything."
"I am and always will be your friend, Evan Lorne," Teyla says, a small smile on her face that tells him she is well aware of the words she's using. "And I hope you would do me one last favor, one friend to another, and join me and my people for tea."
"I'm not allowed out of the city."
"I am aware. However, I believe it is one of your Earth sayings that if the mountain will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain. John and Rodney were more than happy to ferry us from the mainland."
"It'd be my pleasure," Evan answers, and the clarity of that particular memory always ends there, dissolving instead into a jumbled mess of tea, dance and tearful goodbyes.
The third memory is of Colonel Mitchell, barely minutes after Evan's stepped through the gate back to Earth to start the discharge process, grinning slightly as he promoted Evan to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. "I submitted the paperwork a while back, but wasn't sure it'd make it through in time."
"You have a good lawyer," Radek informs him after, who'd actually come through the gate with him as 'moral support' and been the one to hire Evan's civilian lawyer. He hadn't asked, either, just informed Evan after the fact he now has a civilian lawyer to handle his case. "You can now get separation pay at O-5 pay grade. It's half-pay still, but it can make all the difference, yes?"
Evan hadn't really cared if his half-pay was $6,000 more than it would have been at an O-4 pay grade, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.
Besides, it'd given him a kind of perverse pleasure to get promoted while in the process of an honorable discharge for conduct unbecoming.
*
"You just missed him," David says when Evan enters the FBI office. "He's out canvassing an apartment building for leads with Don."
"Nearly gave me a black eye in the process," Nikki puts in dryly, wandering out from their conference room. "Idaho was awfully enthusiastic about that detail."
"Any idea when he'll be back?"
"Depends on their luck," David shrugs, "Probably around lunch. You can probably wait at his desk if you want."
It's three hours until lunch, but Evan still decides to accept the offer. "Thanks."
David nods, turning back to his work, and Nikki follows suit. Evan's left staring kind of blankly at the things on Colby's desk, until David says, "Hey," and nudges his arm with the corner of a book. "Since you're going to be waiting, might as well spend the time reading something that doesn't stand a chance of potentially getting you in trouble."
Evan accepts the copy of The FBI Career Guide with a raised eyebrow.
"So," David says ignoring Evan's expression. In a way, Evan's kind of grateful that he's not even trying for casual. "What's happened this time?"
Evan snorts. "Isn't it bad enough you usually end up involved even when you don't ask?"
David shrugs, looking slightly sheepish. "You're my friends. I don't mind, and no offense, but you're both kind of idiots. Someone's got to step in and be the voice of reason."
"None taken," Evan says wryly, "But I think in this instance I should explain things to him first."
"I get that," David says, "But I'm your friend too. If you want to talk, I'll listen."
"Thanks."
"Enjoy the book," David says, grinning a little as he moves back to his desk. "It's a real page turner."
Evan takes a moment to just stare at the cover of the book, before he decides that it's a better option than just staring out at the office and thinking.
He abandons the book after the third hour passes, unable to concentrate anymore, and takes a brief smoke outside that he bums off a woman who tells the same story about trying to quit that everyone does, even as she was handing one over.
He's barely back at Colby's desk for ten minutes, just watching the elevator and not really expecting anything, when Don and Colby step out with takeout boxes. There's a small halt in Colby's steps when he spots him.
They disappear into the break room with the food, but Evan remains where he is, waiting. He gets to his feet once Colby comes back out, shifting nervously. "Hey."
"I thought we could go to lunch," Evan says, "I owe you an explanation."
"I can probably leave for an hour," Colby nods. "You been smoking?"
"Yeah," Evan says, doesn't elaborate or mention that it's not his first since coming back, even as relief floods through him along with the urge to just spill everything. "You want to go some place close?"
"Sure," Colby says, letting the smoking go. "I don't really feel like driving, and I'm guessing you took a cab."
"Actually, I walked."
"What?" Colby laughs a little, obviously not taking him seriously, which Evan can kind of understand. Colby's apartment isn't really that far from the office, but it's still a long walk -- especially in a city like Los Angeles where walking has become practically outdated. "You're serious."
"Yeah," Evan says, slightly awkward smile on his face. "I needed the time to think."
Colby doesn't answer, just casts him a calculating glance, and leads the way to a diner two blocks down.
"Can't mess with the stereotypes," he says as they enter, grinning. He'd relaxed a bit once they'd hit the street, as though he'd been as unwilling as Evan to have this particular conversation in a governmental building. Old habits die hard, Evan supposes, as they slide into a secluded booth.
They don't talk about it until after the food, instead Colby talks about this crazy lady he and Don had run into while going door-to-door, who'd thought Don was her run-away nephew or something. They discuss the current case a little, compliment the food -- it's kind of a miracle they don't get started on the weather.
But once the plates are cleared away and they're left with their drinks, Colby leans back against the vinyl and says, his voice deceptively neutral, "So what happened?"
"Remember I called you after my leave got cancelled a couple of months back?"
Colby nods, looking a little like he thinks Evan is crazy. "Yeah, there was an unscheduled mission."
Actually, an alien pathogen had erupted from some plant SG-8 had brought through the 'gate and everyone on base had ended up quarantined for a week until the doctors figured out how to remove the green spots. But that's not something Evan will ever be able to tell Colby, so he just nods instead. "Apparently a visiting Lieutenant General known for his bigot views overheard a statement indicating my likelihood to engage in conduct he perceived unbecoming of an Air Force service member. He notified the Major General of my base, who held onto it until the Lieutenant General started pressuring him and he had no choice but to pass the inquiry down to my commanding officer."
"Shit," Colby says.
"He warned me," Evan says, feels this need to make it clear that at least his CO did that for him. "He had a three-day mission. Told me before he moved out. Once he was back, they tried to postpone it even more, but this Lieutenant General wanted an example made. He implied my command would be going against the statue and regulations too by not pursuing the matter. Once that message reached us, the inquiry lasted a couple of days before I was shipped back stateside." He tries for a smile, fighting back the memories, but he doesn't think the smile's all that successful. "A month later the last of it was done, and I was officially honorably discharged. Expecting my O-5 pay grade separation pay any day now."
There'd been nothing for it. His case hadn't been a case on falsely accused injustice like the reports and newspapers usually quoted. He'd broken the regulations, and once the SGC had exhausted their procrastination options, there'd been no other option than an Honorable Discharge for Conduct Unbecoming.
"O-5 pay grade?" Colby says, frowning. "Thought Majors were O-4."
"A week before my discharge papers were finalized, I was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel."
Colby laughs, like Evan had expected he would. "Always nice to know the military's still dealing with paperwork the same pace as always."
"Yeah," they grin at each other for a moment, sharing the joke, before Evan grows serious again and adds, "I meant to tell you once I got back, first thing I meant to say. I just -- it never really hit me until I got here that I can't go back, and it took me a while to deal with that."
Colby nods slowly. "I get that."
The thing is that Colby really doesn't. He's probably imagining Evan's just going through the adjustment every soldier returning from a war zone goes through. There's some of that, but mostly he's been feeling the loss of a home. Of a whole other universe. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
"Don't worry about that," Colby says, "Situations like these are becoming kind of familiar."
"Hopefully the last one," Evan acknowledges. "I know we haven't talked about this kind of situation, we haven't planned anything, so if you'd rather I get my own --"
"If you end that sentence with 'place', we're going to end right back at square one," Colby interrupts. "I'm really sorry you lost your job, Evan. It sucks that after all you've put into your career, they discharged you for this. But I can't -- I can't pretend like I'm not glad you won't be leaving again at the end of the week. I'm in this, same as I was when I had no idea whether or not you're at the wrong end of a gun."
Before Evan can say anything, they're interrupted by Colby's cell phone going off. Colby shoots him an apologetic look and the cell an annoyed one before he answers.
"We have a break in the case," he says, "Someone heard we were asking questions, showed up at the office to answer a few. I've got to go. You want the car?"
"Nah," Evan shakes his head, "I think I'll call Laura, see if she hasn't got time for an old friend."
"She knows?"
"Don't think so," Evan says, "Or she'd have made it clear she knows by now."
Colby snorts, shrugging on his jacket. "Too bad I'll miss it. I'll see you later." Evan acknowledges it with a grin, tilts his head up because he can now, without worrying about consequences, and Colby's smiling as he leans in to kiss him.
"Unexpected perk," Evan says, smirking, and Colby chuckles.
"This? This we're definitely talking about later," Colby says, and then he's gone.
"He's sweet," their waitress says, coming up to the table.
Evan's feeling pretty good about everything right now, so he smiles up at her and says, "You only say that because he didn't leave you with the check."
*
He hadn't actually expected Laura to be home, but she enthusiastically invites him over on the condition that he brings beer.
"What are you doing back?" She asks, letting him in after giving him a hug and liberating him of the six-pack. "Is it just you? I haven't heard anything from the others."
"Just me," Evan says, "It's a kind of permanent thing."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Laura says, looking suddenly vulnerable.
"I'm the proud new owner of a DD-214," Evan says, "For conduct unbecoming. We match now."
"You fucker," Laura says, shoving at his chest. "How can you joke about that? What the fuck happened? You wouldn't have left voluntarily."
"It's a long story."
"You're not leaving until you do," Laura says, "How come you didn't tell me? How come nobody told me?"
"To be fair, most of the people who would tell you are in another universe."
"That doesn't excuse you," Laura says, but she doesn't punch him or shove him this time. "Fuck, I'm sorry, that's an insensitive response."
Evan shrugs, gives a half-hearted grin. "I know better than to expect sensitive from you."
Laura sticks her tongue out at him, and disappears into the kitchen for a moment to put the beer into the refrigerator before returning with only two. They sit and talk for a while about Atlantis, and Laura's job, just circling the real elephant in the room until Evan folds while he's on his third beer and she's still on her first. He recounts the complete details of his discharge. In a way it's more freeing to tell it to Laura, who he doesn't have to censor anything from because of security clearances and confidentiality agreements. "You adjusting?" She asks, when he's done.
"Kind of," Evan says, a half-truth and Laura knows it. "I'll get there. It's hitting me more now that Colby and Erika know."
"You need something real to do." Laura says, "Build a cabin, help the hungry, or get a job. That sort of thing. Until I had a job, all I could think about was Atlantis. What I'd be doing there, how I'd be making McKay's life difficult, all that. Didn't matter I was with Jeanette or that I'd left voluntarily, I was still thinking of it."
"Where'd I work?"
"I can't see you in any old job," Laura admits. "But you've got your impressive engineering degree. That opens up some doors for you."
"I was considering the FBI," Evan says, and he's not sure who's more surprised by the admission. It had been this half-formed thought that'd been in his head since he'd put down the career guide three hours earlier, but he hadn't actually seriously been considering it.
"Really?" Laura asks, eyebrows rising. "Are you joining in Colby's footsteps?"
"I don't know," Evan says, "If I don't join now, I won't be able to. They stop accepting at thirty-seven."
Laura raises her eyebrows. "And the process takes how long?"
"Six months for the application, maybe a little less if Colby gets Don to put a word in. Then five months at the Academy. No way of telling with the security clearance."
"You'd be cutting it close," Laura says. "You sure you want to make the decision under that kind of deadline? You won't even get to enjoy some vacation time."
"Better than making it too late," he shrugs.
Laura hums. "I guess, and you can always drop out if you change your mind."
Evan laughs a little. "That'll be a good story for Colby's friends."
"You told him you're considering it?" Laura asks curiously, "Because the country is big. You won't be able to request a transfer until at least, what? Two years later?"
"This you know about?"
She shrugs. "No, that was mostly guessing."
"I haven't told him," Evan says, "I wasn't even aware I was seriously considering it until I told you."
"Well," Laura grins. "When you've put that much consideration into it, it's clearly a great idea. Go for it."
"Leave me alone," Evan says, "I've recently been through a very trying ordeal."
Laura snorts. "Then it's good that doesn't matter to me, as I've heard myself been called both insensitive and unsympathetic."
"That last one wasn't me."
"I know," Laura says, "I just thought I'd make it clear before I ask my next question."
"Which is?"
"Why are you drinking now?" She's studying at him carefully all of a sudden, her eyes sharp.
"What?"
"It's 1400 hours," she says, "and you've just had an, by all accounts, lovely lunch with your very special agent, yet in my company alone you've had four beers. So as a friend, I'm asking you: are you drinking because you've lost Atlantis, because you're mad you got discharged, or because you're afraid Colby'll realize that if there'd been a choice, between him or Atlantis, he might not have won?"
"I'll see myself out," Evan says, already on his feet by 'company'. "Thanks for the talk."
"Evan!" Laura shouts after him, since he's only touching every third step. "Lorne, you stupid son of a bitch, you can't avoid this!"
*
"Hey," Colby calls from the kitchen, once the door slams shut behind Evan. "Where you been?"
"Gym," Evan says, dumping his sweaty clothes in the hamper. "You've been home long?"
"Nah, maybe half an hour. I figured I'd start dinner, call if you didn't show up by the time it was done." Colby's sitting at the kitchen table, newspaper open in front of him and one eye on the boiling water on the stove. He looks up when Evan walks into the room, gives him a happy smile. "We solved the case."
"Yeah?" Evan says, deliberately going for a water bottle instead of the beer next to it in the fridge. He leans against the counter next to Colby, just far enough away to not be in the way.
Colby starts talking about the case, and their witness caller who'd turned out to be paranoid enough to have a security camera pointing down the hall in the direction of the apartment the body was found in. It keeps them going through dinner, and it's so comfortable and normal that Evan isn't expecting it when Colby suddenly goes, "So Laura called me today in a panic," while they're on the couch.
Evan can't help but tense, even though he knows Colby can feel it and will make note of it. "Yeah?"
"She said she's sorry," Colby says, running a soothing palm down Evan's spine. "Invited us over for dinner once Jeanette gets back this weekend."
"Nothing else?"
Colby shrugs. "Not really."
"Okay," Evan says, "I'll -- I'll call her tomorrow."
"Okay," Colby repeats, no particular infliction in his voice at all. There's a brief surge of anger towards him for never really pushing unless Evan asks or makes him, even though that's been one of the things Evan's always appreciated about their relationship -- how Colby'd never pushed or asked when the details of the stories Evan told to keep his cover didn't add up.
"I'm going to go to bed," Evan says, only lifts himself up enough to first press his lips against Colby's before getting off the couch completely.
"I'll be in once this ends," Colby says, gesturing towards the TV with the remote. Evan nods and slips out of the room.
He lies still for a long time before he falls asleep, just lying there with his eyes closed, telling himself Atlantis is lost to him. He should do the smart thing, the considerate thing, and accept it before he loses the ability to keep himself in check.
*
Two days later, Colby has a day off. Evan had kind of expected them to spend it in the apartment, but Colby wakes him at five AM to go surfing. Surfing has always been more Colby's thing than Evan's; he likes it fine, but not with the same level of enthusiasm as Colby, who can talk about it for hours once you get him started.
It's not that often they go surfing together either, though it's not unheard of, and Colby's smiling through breakfast, talking about the huge front that's rolled in. They dig out the boards and wetsuits. Amazingly enough, they're in the car and on their way already by five-thirty.
They end up at Redondo Breakwater, six to eight footers crashing against the shore. It means the beach is already a little crowded, but Colby doesn't seem to care and Evan doesn't mind.
Even he can admit the waves are incredible, but eventually the size is big enough that he feels it best to retreat up to the beach and just watch instead. The sea has always had an incredible calming effect on him, exhilarating and therapeutic at once, the crash of waves against the shore triggering something inside him. If he closes his eyes, he can almost believe he's sitting on a pier in Atlantis.
Some teens eventually rope him into a game of volleyball, and by the time Colby's out of the water, he's breathing a little harder than he'd really like to admit.
"You feel like Mexican?" Colby asks, and he's smiling with exhilaration. Water is still dripping from his frame, and Evan's a little proud that he waits until after he's begged out of the game and they're over by the car before he pulls him close for a quick, bruising kiss that's maybe a little too dirty for a public setting.
"We'll have to wait until you're actually dry enough to be allowed inside," Evan says.
Colby chuckles, changing out of the wetsuit and into board shorts and a t-shirt Evan recognizes as his own. It's only fair, because Evan's fairly certain the shirt he's wearing belonged to Colby once. "They're used to it," Colby says, "If we walk, I'll be completely dry by the time we get there."
"Don't they work you hard enough at the FBI?" Evan asks once they're at the restaurant, amused over the fact that the walk had turned into a light jog instead. "Where's all this energy coming from?"
Colby shrugs. "I haven't been drinking and smoking like a pro the past couple of weeks either," he says, one eye still on the waves.
And, well, there's no real reply Evan can give to that, really, so he changes the subject with a very obvious, "You think the FBI would be interested in hiring a discharged pilot?"
"You thinking of becoming an agent?" Colby asks, surprised.
"I think it might be the only job for me back on -- back here," Evan says, swallowing the 'Earth' that he'd nearly let slip. "None of the others I've considered really hold much interest."
"You're allowed to relax and take some time off before you jump into another time-consuming job," Colby says. "You've only been out for a little over a month. Going into the Bureau isn't the same as picking up a pack of smokes and a six-pack of beer. You shouldn't treat them the same."
"I'm not. The smoking and the beer -- I finished my last pack today. I don't have any plans of getting a new one, and the beer will be strictly social," he shrugs, "I'm only asking now because the application process takes a while, and they don't accept those over thirty-seven. If I want to join, I need to do it now."
Colby nods slowly. "Okay," he says. "Okay. Well, you're kind of an ideal candidate for the Bureau, even more so with your Ph.D. Me and Don will probably be able to get you through the process a little faster, once you're contacted after the online application. If you really want to do this, you should go for it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Colby says, "I know I'd feel better knowing you were watching my back."
It isn't until later, back in the apartment, that Colby's expression becomes shuttered as he says, "You realize we'll probably see even less of each other than we did before?"
"What?"
"There's no telling where you'll be stationed," Colby says, all in a rush, like he's been keeping in the words all day. He probably has. "New agents don't really have a choice. Maybe we'll be lucky and you'll end up in the state, but you're just as likely to end up on the other side of the country. You can ask for a transfer after two years, but they usually don't happen until after four. Before, you at least had leave every couple of months. I'm not saying you shouldn't apply, but I wanted you to at least know, completely, before you did."
"Colby," Evan says softly, fingers catching him by the wrist. Colby moves quick, using the contact to pull Evan in, gripping his hips and waist tightly, fingers digging into flesh. Evan's fingers are tugging up Colby's shirt without any real thought, everything running on instinct and need.
Their mouths aren't touching, a small space still separating them that marks the tension between them better than Colby's eyes that hold a resigned look, this sudden awareness over the fact he's fallen for someone who's not really meant to stay still -- especially not after something as huge as Atlantis. It makes Evan ache, and he thinks there's as much a chance of this turning into a physical fight at the wrong step as there is for this tension to lead to truly fantastic sex.
The moment snaps, suddenly, and Colby's kissing him with intensity, soft lips and sharp teeth that nip on his lip in reprimand when he tries to shift them towards the bed. In a way, Evan's successful, as Colby backs off just enough to push him onto the bed.
Evan wants to tell him that he wouldn't leave, would be equally happy here, if he's asked to stay, but he feels like the words would ruin the moment and he keeps shut, implies it instead in the slide of his hand from Colby's chest, to his side, to his hip.
*
"You should apply," Erika says, when he calls her the next morning and explains everything. There'd been some shouting first, and tears from her side, as well as a brief interlude where Mark and Joe had wanted to say hi before going to school.
He'd been woken up by Colby's phone in the middle of the night, keeping his eyes closed as he listened to Colby's side of the conversation. He'd nearly fallen back asleep when Colby had sat back down on the edge of the bed, and told him to send in the application to the Bureau, so long as he put a little bit more thought into it and was sure that he wouldn't suddenly regret it later.
"A few days ago you were shouting at me for giving him the implication that I'd want to leave him because of this," Evan says, "Isn't that exactly what I would actually be doing that if I go?"
"No," Erika says, "There's a difference between the two."
"Yeah?"
"Before there was the possibility that you resented him at a base level for putting you in that position in the first place. This implies that you're dealing and accepting and moving on from it. It might --" Erika's quiet for a long moment, before she continues, "-- it might be a little faster than we'd been expecting, but it's still a good sign. This is also familiar to him -- he knows this territory and from the sound of things, he might feel that this is the best way for you."
"How so?"
"You're already used to being apart from each other," Erika says, "I'm just using my high school psych degree here, but I think he's afraid that by forcing you to stay might ruin everything in the long run. That's uncharted territory, and right now you're both equally lost. Plus, there's always that one other thing."
Evan swallows. "What's that?"
"He loves you," Erika says simply, "He wants you to be happy, no matter what. Same as if he suddenly decided to quit his job and start a surf shop. Would you stop him?"
"No."
"It's as simple as that, sometimes," Erika says. "If you want to do this, then you should. It might not be where you expected to end up, but I think you'd do just fine as an agent. Who knows, maybe you'll even enjoy it."
"When did you become the smart one?"
Erika laughs. "As a high school dropout, I mostly do it to annoy my doctored brother."
"Getting back where you can, huh?" Evan says, and stares at the FBI's Online Application page for an hour after hanging up before he hits 'send'.
He goes for a run.
*
Evan's never really thought all that much about the fact that Colby's friends know, other than an always present low-key relief around them that he doesn't have to watch every move. He's grateful for the fact that they do now, though, as it makes it easier to explain the state of things and his request to Don.
"Wow," Don says, "I had no idea this was happening."
"I wasn't exactly broadcasting it," Evan says. "Colby only found out a week ago."
"Shit," Don winces. "That's why he was all -- weird at work."
"Yeah," Evan sighs, "I could have handled it better."
"After something like that, who could blame you? Everyone would be a little messed up after that," Don shrugs. "I'll see what I can do to help push the process along on this end for you."
"Thanks," Evan says, "But that wasn't -- that wasn't the main reason I came here to tell you."
"Oh yeah?" Don's face shifts back into surprise. "Then why?"
"Is it possible that you could save the string pulling for possibly getting me a job somewhere in the area after I'm done at the Academy?"
Don's face clears. "I don't know," he says, "I mean, it's not like I'm the most influential person around, y'know, and things like that are supposed to be left to the needs. But I can definitely talk to some people, see if I can't pull a few favors."
"Thank you, Don," Evan says, "I really appreciate it."
"No problem, man," he says, clapping him on the back. "Does Colby know of this?"
"I don't --" Evan sighs, "I don't like the thought of keeping anything more from him, but I still feel like it's just better if I tell him only when I'm certain I'll be put somewhere close."
Don nods slowly. "Okay. You guys haven't had the easiest time, but I doubt your stationing is going to ruin anything. I get that though. I mean, I don't really like keeping anything from him, but I'll try and keep it low-key for you."
"This isn't so much that I'm worried about ruining anything," Evan says, "But if it's going to happen, I want it to be a surprise."
Don grins. "Now that's something I can support."
continue