"Atlanta Bureau" -- "Vanished" Fic
Just a slight correction -- this won't be posted for the
Gale Challenge. But it doesn't matter. If you're interested
in reading it, it's here. And now I can lay the whole thing
to rest and finally forget about it.
I wrote this before the premiere of "Vanished" -- but abandoned it
when we heard what was going to happen to Kelton. I had a plot and
a number of things cooking for this -- but, alas, it was not to be.
So enjoy this little taste of an orphan fic. Thanks.
Atlanta Bureau: The Adventures of Very Special Agent Graham Kelton
Title: Atlanta Bureau: Part 1: "A Good Cup of Coffee"
Author: Gaedhal
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: Graham Kelton, Kyle Tyner, Lin Mei
Summary: Agent Kelton is feeling restless.
Author's notes/Disclaimers: Only general character spoilers.
"A Good Cup of Coffee"
"A good cup of coffee," grunted Graham Kelton as he dropped into the chair behind the desk. "That's what I need right now!"
"I thought I was an agent," said his colleague, Lin Mei, with a smile. "I wasn't aware that I was a Starbucks waitress."
"Mea culpa," said Graham, rubbing his tired eyes. "Too little sleep and too much paperwork equals a critical need for coffee. The stronger, the better."
Lin was used to Graham's moods and she didn't mind indulging him -- but only occasionally. She could see that he'd had a rough night, so she decided that this would be one of those rare occasions.
"I was just getting myself a cup," she replied. "So I'll get you one, too."
"Thanks," said Graham, gratefully. "I owe you one. And I mean that."
"Tomorrow YOU can get the coffee," she informed him before she went off to pour two cups.
There were piles of paper on Graham's desk, each sheet demanding his immediate attention. This was the part of the job that he hated. Forms, reports, witness statements, transcripts of expert testimony -- it all had to be sorted out, puzzled out, and, eventually, filed.
"I'm an FBI agent, not a secretary," Graham griped, mimicking Lin's complaint. But there was no escaping it, so he began listlessly shuffling through the first pile.
I'm bushed, he thought as he scratched his chin. Tonight I have to get some sleep. He felt a patch of skin that his razor had somehow missed. Jesus, I can't even see straight enough to shave accurately in the morning.
Bad dreams. That was the trouble. He could get to sleep fine, but staying asleep was the problem. He'd wake up knowing that he'd been dreaming about the incident again. He never remembered the dreams, but he didn't have to. There was only one thing that haunted him and preyed on his thoughts. Nathan Miller. Failure.
Sometimes he could still feel the impact of the explosion. The heat of it. The slam against his chest. Flying into the air. And then falling, knowing that the person he had been trying to save was certainly dead.
They say that you black out when something like that happens to you, but for Graham there was no blackout. He could remember every detail all too clearly.
"Kelton!" a familiar voice barked.
Great. Just what I need right now.
"Yes, sir?" Graham forced a smile.
"What are you doing?" The head of the Atlanta Bureau, Kyle Tyner, was standing next to the desk, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.
"Did you bring that for little ole me?" Graham asked. "You shouldn't have!"
"Don't be a smart ass!" Tyner snapped, his dark eyes stern. "Get into my office. I need to talk to you."
Graham dragged himself to his feet.
He needed a big case right now. Something to wake him up. Something to focus his attention on. These days the only time he really felt alive was when he was out in the field, doing his job the way it was meant to be done, not sitting in an office, jerking off at his desk!
Maybe he was being assigned a new case. Maybe that's what Kyle wanted to tell him.
He followed his boss into his office and stood there, his hands clasped nervously in front of him like a bad boy in the principal's office.
"Close the door," said Tyner, sitting down behind his desk.
Graham shut the door.
He didn't know why he felt so anxious. So antsy.
Tyner didn't look at him for what seemed like an eternity. He sipped his coffee and picked up a file, flipping it open and perusing it.
He's making me wait, thought Graham. Seeing if he can shake me. Well, I can stand here until fucking Doomsday if that's what he wants. Patience. Serenity. Endurance. Semper Fi, you bastard!
"Kelton, I notice that you're behind in your paperwork," Tyner said, finally looking up at him.
Now Graham smiled for real. "You 'noticed'?" he replied. "Since when do you give a damn that my paperwork is backed up, Kyle?"
Tyner frowned. "Don't call me Kyle when we're in the office. You know better than that."
"Sorry about that, Chief," Graham said sarcastically. "I forgot myself. I tend to do that when someone feeds me a load of total bullshit!"
"It's not bullshit, Graham," said Tyner, gazing at the other man's face. "You aren't focusing. And you look like hell. You haven't been sleeping very well, have you?"
"My sleeping habits are none of your fucking business," Graham returned heatedly. "Anymore," he added.
"You're really making this difficult, aren't you?" Tyner shook his head.
"Difficult?" Graham snorted. "You have no fucking idea about what's difficult! And you have some nerve telling me that I look like hell!"
Tyner stood up and walked around the desk. He put his hand on the agent's arm. "I'm worried about you, Graham."
But Graham jerked away. "Fuck you, Kyle! I don't need your phony concern!"
"I think you do," Tyner said quietly. "Someone needs to care about you."
Graham narrowed his eyes at his estranged lover. "Don't pretend that you give a shit, Kyle. I don't need your fucking pity! Just give me a case. Don't leave me sitting at that goddamn desk every day, twiddling my thumbs. Or filling out forms. If you can't use me the way I need to be used, then transfer me! Get me the fuck out of this office. Out of this city." Graham paused. "And away from you."
Kyle Tyner took a deep breath. "All right, Graham, I think I may have something for you."
***
Title: Atlanta Bureau: Part 2: "Take Out"
Author: Gaedhal
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: Graham Kelton, Lin Mei
Summary: Agent Kelton finishes up.
Author's notes/Disclaimers: Only general character spoilers.
"Take Out"
Graham stayed at the office late, trying to clear up the reams of paperwork on his desk.
Agent Lin Mei touched his shoulder on her way out. "Why don't you go home and get some sleep? You look beat."
"I can't sleep," Graham admitted. "And if I'm not going to sleep then I might as well stay here and do this work. I doubt the Office Elves are going to tiptoe in here during the night and do it all for me."
Lin smiled. Graham could be infuriating at times, but there was also something endearing about him. Something very vulnerable. But she could never tell him that. Graham worked very hard to keep up the front of the consummate agent, totally professional and aggressively macho, and he would be crushed to know that, at least with her, that image didn't always hold up.
"Don't wear yourself out," she said.
Graham watched her walk away. He got along well with Lin. He felt comfortable with her -- and there were few people he could say that about. He also trusted her absolutely, something vital in a fellow agent. She called him on his bullshit, yet she wasn't pushy. And she was always there to lend an ear when he needed to vent, yet she didn't probe for details about his private life.
He rubbed his tired eyes. Lin never questioned him, but he assumed that there was little she didn't know about him. Things that were unsaid about his past -- and his present. That was just as well. Because at present he had no real personal life. Except for his daughter. She was his only focus right now. And that was the way it should be.
Graham glanced up at the clock. It was after 10:00. He could probably stay another hour or two, but what good would it do? Better to start fresh in the morning.
Assuming he got some sleep.
He stood up and stretched, then put on his jacket. It was always mild in Atlanta, but this year it seemed particularly warm for so early in the spring.
He walked past the door of Kyle's office. Kyle had long since gone home. Home in time for supper. Kyle still made time for a life, that was obvious. Made time for a lot of things. Still, Graham didn't envy him his job. There was too much politics involved in being the head of the bureau. Too much dealing with Headquarters in D.C. And with the media. Not to mention all the other bullshit that went with being the boss. Well, if Kyle wanted that, then he could have it.
But some things Kyle wanted he couldn't have. That was over and done with. Which was all for the best.
Now, if he would just give Graham a decent case. One good, solid case. That would make up for so much.
This afternoon Kyle had promised him the next big case that came into the office, but Graham wasn't holding his breath. He knew what Kyle's promises often amounted to -- nothing. They sounded good when he was saying them -- a lot of things sounded good coming out of Kyle's mouth -- but that's as far as it went. It was all air. All for show. That Graham still wanted to believe him said a lot about his own problems. Things he was still in denial about and probably always would be.
But Kyle was no better. He was in denial, too. But Kyle would never admit that. He liked to have things both ways. And always his own way. Maybe that's what made him the Chief of the Atlanta Bureau and Graham only an agent with a very public failure on his record.
Graham got into his car and drove along streets wet from an evening shower. He realized that he had no food at home. He was always forgetting to buy the stuff he needed and often ended up opening a can of franks and beans or filling a bowl with cornflakes and making that his dinner. But he was suddenly hungry for real food. He turned down a side street and drove to a barbecue place that was open all hours.
The barbecue joint was little more than a shack with a few card tables and folding chairs set up in front of a counter. Two old men were playing cards, drinking beer, and smoking cigarettes at one of the tables, but they never even turned around to look at a tall, well-dressed white man walking in the door.
Graham smelled the meat cooking on an old rack over an open fire just outside the back door. It made his mouth water. It reminded him of better times when he'd never had to eat alone. He ordered a slab of ribs and some pulled pork, with fried taters, polk salad, and cornbread on the side. Much more food than he could eat, but he didn't care. At least he'd have something in the icebox for another day.
"Rainin'," said the man behind the counter. He placed a paper sack with the food on the counter.
"We could use it," said Graham, laying down some bills.
"Gonna be a hot summer," the man nodded as he made change. "Folks be crazy when it gets too hot."
"People are crazy, hot or not," said Graham, who had good reason to know just how crazy some folks could be. Crazy enough to blow up children. Yeah, too crazy. And they were out there in the world.
That's what made Graham crazy. Knowing they were out there. Just out of reach.
But not for long.
Not if he could help it.
"Thanks," he said. And he walked out into the balmy Atlanta evening.
***
Title: Atlanta Bureau: Part 3: "Midnight Snack"
Author: Gaedhal
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: Graham Kelton/Kyle Tyner
Summary: Agent Kelton goes home -- and gets a visitor.
Author's notes/Disclaimers: Only general character spoilers.
"Midnight Snack"
By the time Graham parked the car and trudged to his door, he was bone-tired. All those nights of lost sleep were definitely catching up with him.
He balanced the bag of food on his hip and got out his key.
But something was wrong. He could feel it.
A shadow.
Something moving behind him.
But he couldn't get to his gun fast enough...
Unless...
He dropped the bag of food and whipped around, reaching for the weapon in his shoulder holster.
"Jesus, Graham!" said Kyle, putting his hands up. He was smiling slightly, his dark eyes full of amusement. "Don't shoot. It's only me."
Graham took a deep breath. He realized that he was sweating and his heart was pounding in his chest. This was not the automatic reaction, calm and controlled, that he'd been trained to give at the Academy. Not by any means.
"It'd be another wonderful addition to my record if I shot my supervisor, wouldn't it, Kyle?" Graham took another deep breath, and then another. Bringing his pulse down. Putting the mask back in place. And slowly replacing his gun in its holster.
"Sorry," Kyle said contritely. "I thought you saw me coming."
"I never see you coming." Graham opened the door and let Kyle go in ahead of him.
It always seemed so quiet at his place these days. Absence was the loudest sound Graham could hear. He set the bag of food, now more than slightly crumpled, down on the kitchen counter.
"What do you have there?" asked Kyle, making himself at home. He opened the icebox and took a cold beer.
"Some food from that rib shack I took you to once," said Graham, removing the styrofoam containers. "Remember?"
"Sure. I remember." Kyle took a long pull on the beer bottle while his dark, veiled eyes watched Graham. "That smells good."
"Help yourself." Graham took out two plates, two forks, two knives, and a handful of napkins and placed them on the counter next to the food.
"Oh, I already ate," said Kyle. "But maybe just a taste."
They carried the plates into the living room and sat on the sofa.
"How long were you waiting for me to come home?" Graham asked. "Why didn't you call my cell and let me know you were coming?"
But Graham already knew the answer. Calling his cell left a trail. Proof that Kyle had tried to contact him. Proof that this visit was premeditated.
"Oh, I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by," Kyle said off-handedly. "These ribs are great." He licked the bone before setting it back on the plate.
"You're so full of shit," said Graham. "You didn't just happen to be in this neighborhood. And you never just stop by. You never do anything you don't intend, Kyle, so don't give me that!"
"I was restless," Kyle admitted. "Maybe the truth is that I wanted to talk to you." He paused and looked directly at Graham. "To see you."
"You see me at the office every day," Graham reminded him. "And you talk to me every day, too -- mainly to chew me out about something. But that's what the boss does, isn't it? The Big Boys in Washington like their bureaus to be run like tight ships, so when there's a loose cannon on board it's the captain's job to tie that sucker down. And that's me. The loose cannon. So you have to come down on me -- and come down hard. Ironic, isn't it?"
"I don't like doing it, Graham," said Kyle. He put his empty plate on the coffee table. "You know I don't. But you're right -- it's my job. I never want anyone, anywhere to be able to say that I showed you any favoritism."
Graham smiled in spite of himself. "Oh, they'll never be able to say that, Kyle. Never. Your secret is safe. Always so safe. Just like you -- always playing it safe."
"It doesn't feel safe," Kyle returned. He looked at Graham's face. He looked tired, he thought, but beautiful. He's been through hell in the past year, but he's still beautiful. Those eyes -- those green and golden eyes.... "It never feels safe with you." Kyle leaned in and kissed Graham. "You know how I feel about you, Graham. You know that I love you."
Graham resisted for a moment. This was the last thing he needed now. For all this to begin again. But as much as he tried to withstand Kyle's embraces, he couldn't. His body wouldn't let him. He'd been too lonely. Too full of regrets about everything. But here was one place where he could let himself go.
"Goddamn," he whispered. "Why?"
"Because I want to," murmured Kyle. "And so do you."
***
Graham turned over and opened his eyes. He hadn't even realized that he'd fallen asleep.
The clock read 2:09.
Kyle was getting dressed. He buttoned his white shirt over his lean, dark chest.
"I didn't mean to wake you up," said Kyle. "I know you need your sleep."
Graham ran his long fingers through his hair. "You never stay. I can't remember a single time when you've been here in the morning."
"You know I can't do that," said Kyle. He sat down on the edge of the bed and put on his socks.
"You could if you wanted to," Graham countered. "But that wouldn't do, would it?"
"I have my obligations -- and you have yours." Kyle slipped on his shoes and tied them.
That was the way it always was and always would be, thought Graham. All soft words and passionate declarations before -- and all business afterwards.
Kyle bent over to kiss Graham, but he turned his face away.
Kyle straightened up and squared his shoulders. Graham could be a bitch at times. Petulant. Demanding. He thought of himself as a rebel. A non-conformist. But what he really was was a child. A brilliant, beautiful, needy, and troublesome child. So that's the way Kyle would treat him.
"I'll see you in the office," said Kyle, slipping on his jacket. "Tomorrow."
"Right," said Graham, watching Kyle saunter out of the bedroom. He heard the front door slam. "In the office. Tomorrow."
***
Title: Atlanta Bureau: Part 4: "Communion"
Author: Gaedhal
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: Graham Kelton
Summary: Agent Kelton goes to church.
Author's notes/Disclaimers: Only general character spoilers.
Contains some general spoilers for "Vanished" eps. 101 and 102.
"Communion"
After Kyle left, Graham didn't even try to sleep. Instead, he got out of bed and sat in the living room, thinking and listening as the rain began to fall again.
How did things get so fucked up so fast? he wondered. Six months ago his life had been complicated, that was certainly true, but he had been dealing with it. Or trying to deal with it. Okay, maybe things were fucked up then, too, but he hadn't felt so adrift. So at a loss for what to think and where to turn. Or so guilty.
In the past he'd always known what was right, even when he didn't always do the right thing. Graham believed in the things he was supposed to believe in, really believed in them. God. Family. His Country. The Corps. The Bureau. Those were the things that never changed. The things he could be sure of whenever he felt himself wavering. Perhaps he was a sinner -- he knew he would be forgiven. Perhaps he strayed -- he knew he'd be taken back. Perhaps he made a mistake -- there was nothing that couldn't be rectified.
Until that night. The kidnapped boy. Nathan Miller. One mistake in judgement. An explosion. And his target was dead. No, a child was dead. A little boy. A boy not much older than his own daughter. And that fact haunted him. All bets were off.
Graham had also come close to being killed that night, but he put that out of his mind. The life of an agent, like that of a soldier, was always on the line. Always a willing sacrifice to a greater good, a higher cause.
But Graham had been raised to understand sacrifice. Raised to believe that his body and his life were part of a larger plan. At one time in his life he had even considered the Seminary before realizing that, for numerous reasons, he wasn't really priest material. But there were other ways to serve. Other ways to offer yourself to that greater good. Which was why the Corps had been a god-send. And then the Bureau. Places where there was order. Where the rules were clear. And where you always knew where you stood.
However, the Bureau had failed him and then let him take the fall. Let the media come down hard on him for the death of Nathan Miller. And Kyle, as his boss, had failed him, too. But that was part of being an agent. Part of the sacrifice. Graham had been as good an agent as he'd been a soldier. He had always believed totally in what he was doing and that made him fearless. But Graham was also intelligent. Careful. Insightful. He wasn't simply a piece of meat with a gun. And that made him valuable to the Bureau. It was also the reason he was being given a second chance.
After the incident where the boy was killed, the Bureau put Graham on extended leave. Rest and recreation, supposedly. But the reality was that his life, his career, and his marriage were crumbling around him and there was nothing he could do about it. His marriage had turned out to be unsalvageable. His career had been on hold for half a year.
And his life? Graham didn't know. That was a murky question still to be answered.
It was getting light out. Once again he'd sat up all night without sleeping. He pulled himself to his feet and headed for the shower. Then he dressed and walked out into the dawn and the light spring rain that was still falling over Atlanta.
The church wasn't far. In the past he had often walked the short distance to attend Mass, sometimes taking his daughter, Inez, holding her little hand or carrying her if she got tired. And soon she'd be making her First Communion there.
It was an old church, always dark and cool inside, the stained glass diffusing the relentless Georgia sun. This morning it smelled of candle smoke and damp stone. Only a few people, all older women, were kneeling in the front pews for early Mass. Graham sat in the last pew, watching.
The priest, attended by a single sleepy server, blessed the Host and the Precious Blood and distributed Communion to the women. He peered out to the back of the church and noted the single figure sitting there. But he didn't approach the altar.
The service ended and the women moved slowly up the aisle, putting away their rosaries and putting on their plastic rain bonnets to protect their hair from the shower.
Graham glanced at his watch, waiting for the earliest time he could arrive at the office without calling attention to himself. But in the meanwhile, the church was quiet. The perfect place for reflection. The perfect place to be anonymous and alone with his thoughts. The perfect place to....
"Graham?"
He closed his eyes. "Yes, Father?"
"I thought that was you." The priest sat down next to Graham at the end of the pew. "I've seen you here a lot lately, but you never come up and take Communion. Why is that?"
Graham shrugged. "No particular reason."
He looked away, avoiding the priest's patient gaze.
"Would you like to talk about it?" the priest nudged.
"There's nothing to talk about," Graham said dismssively. "If I have something to say, I'll come to Confession next Wednesday and tell you about it there."
The priest sighed. "I know you've been enduring some trying times recently, but that's no reason to close yourself off from your Faith."
"I'm not closing myself off, Father," Graham denied. "I'm protecting myself." And he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
The priest tried another tactic. "Your daughter is getting ready to make her First Holy Communion very soon."
"I know," Graham nodded.
"You and your wife...." The priest hesitated. "I know there are some problems there, but I hope you'll be here for your child. It's important."
"I'll be here," Graham said heatedly, annoyed that the priest assumed he would blow off Inez's First Communion for any reason. "The trouble between me and my wife has nothing to do with my love for my daughter!"
"I never suggested that it did," the priest replied gently. He could feel the pain radiating from the man.
Graham glanced at his watch again. "I need to go. I have work to do." He stood up abruptly and pushed passed the priest to the aisle.
The priest rose slowly from the wooden pew, extending his hand. "Please come back, Graham. This is a place that will always welcome you."
He took the priest's hand tentatively. "Not necessarily, Father. I always believed that God's love was unconditional. But I'm sorry to say that I'm not sure I believe that anymore. Too many things have happened. Too many things...."
Graham shook the priest's hand briskly and then let it go. He turned and walked out of the church. The sun was rising in the sky now and the rain was only a memory.
Graham headed back to the office, praying for something to change.
Something.
Anything.
Soon.
Gale Challenge. But it doesn't matter. If you're interested
in reading it, it's here. And now I can lay the whole thing
to rest and finally forget about it.
I wrote this before the premiere of "Vanished" -- but abandoned it
when we heard what was going to happen to Kelton. I had a plot and
a number of things cooking for this -- but, alas, it was not to be.
So enjoy this little taste of an orphan fic. Thanks.
Atlanta Bureau: The Adventures of Very Special Agent Graham Kelton
Title: Atlanta Bureau: Part 1: "A Good Cup of Coffee"
Author: Gaedhal
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: Graham Kelton, Kyle Tyner, Lin Mei
Summary: Agent Kelton is feeling restless.
Author's notes/Disclaimers: Only general character spoilers.
"A Good Cup of Coffee"
"A good cup of coffee," grunted Graham Kelton as he dropped into the chair behind the desk. "That's what I need right now!"
"I thought I was an agent," said his colleague, Lin Mei, with a smile. "I wasn't aware that I was a Starbucks waitress."
"Mea culpa," said Graham, rubbing his tired eyes. "Too little sleep and too much paperwork equals a critical need for coffee. The stronger, the better."
Lin was used to Graham's moods and she didn't mind indulging him -- but only occasionally. She could see that he'd had a rough night, so she decided that this would be one of those rare occasions.
"I was just getting myself a cup," she replied. "So I'll get you one, too."
"Thanks," said Graham, gratefully. "I owe you one. And I mean that."
"Tomorrow YOU can get the coffee," she informed him before she went off to pour two cups.
There were piles of paper on Graham's desk, each sheet demanding his immediate attention. This was the part of the job that he hated. Forms, reports, witness statements, transcripts of expert testimony -- it all had to be sorted out, puzzled out, and, eventually, filed.
"I'm an FBI agent, not a secretary," Graham griped, mimicking Lin's complaint. But there was no escaping it, so he began listlessly shuffling through the first pile.
I'm bushed, he thought as he scratched his chin. Tonight I have to get some sleep. He felt a patch of skin that his razor had somehow missed. Jesus, I can't even see straight enough to shave accurately in the morning.
Bad dreams. That was the trouble. He could get to sleep fine, but staying asleep was the problem. He'd wake up knowing that he'd been dreaming about the incident again. He never remembered the dreams, but he didn't have to. There was only one thing that haunted him and preyed on his thoughts. Nathan Miller. Failure.
Sometimes he could still feel the impact of the explosion. The heat of it. The slam against his chest. Flying into the air. And then falling, knowing that the person he had been trying to save was certainly dead.
They say that you black out when something like that happens to you, but for Graham there was no blackout. He could remember every detail all too clearly.
"Kelton!" a familiar voice barked.
Great. Just what I need right now.
"Yes, sir?" Graham forced a smile.
"What are you doing?" The head of the Atlanta Bureau, Kyle Tyner, was standing next to the desk, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.
"Did you bring that for little ole me?" Graham asked. "You shouldn't have!"
"Don't be a smart ass!" Tyner snapped, his dark eyes stern. "Get into my office. I need to talk to you."
Graham dragged himself to his feet.
He needed a big case right now. Something to wake him up. Something to focus his attention on. These days the only time he really felt alive was when he was out in the field, doing his job the way it was meant to be done, not sitting in an office, jerking off at his desk!
Maybe he was being assigned a new case. Maybe that's what Kyle wanted to tell him.
He followed his boss into his office and stood there, his hands clasped nervously in front of him like a bad boy in the principal's office.
"Close the door," said Tyner, sitting down behind his desk.
Graham shut the door.
He didn't know why he felt so anxious. So antsy.
Tyner didn't look at him for what seemed like an eternity. He sipped his coffee and picked up a file, flipping it open and perusing it.
He's making me wait, thought Graham. Seeing if he can shake me. Well, I can stand here until fucking Doomsday if that's what he wants. Patience. Serenity. Endurance. Semper Fi, you bastard!
"Kelton, I notice that you're behind in your paperwork," Tyner said, finally looking up at him.
Now Graham smiled for real. "You 'noticed'?" he replied. "Since when do you give a damn that my paperwork is backed up, Kyle?"
Tyner frowned. "Don't call me Kyle when we're in the office. You know better than that."
"Sorry about that, Chief," Graham said sarcastically. "I forgot myself. I tend to do that when someone feeds me a load of total bullshit!"
"It's not bullshit, Graham," said Tyner, gazing at the other man's face. "You aren't focusing. And you look like hell. You haven't been sleeping very well, have you?"
"My sleeping habits are none of your fucking business," Graham returned heatedly. "Anymore," he added.
"You're really making this difficult, aren't you?" Tyner shook his head.
"Difficult?" Graham snorted. "You have no fucking idea about what's difficult! And you have some nerve telling me that I look like hell!"
Tyner stood up and walked around the desk. He put his hand on the agent's arm. "I'm worried about you, Graham."
But Graham jerked away. "Fuck you, Kyle! I don't need your phony concern!"
"I think you do," Tyner said quietly. "Someone needs to care about you."
Graham narrowed his eyes at his estranged lover. "Don't pretend that you give a shit, Kyle. I don't need your fucking pity! Just give me a case. Don't leave me sitting at that goddamn desk every day, twiddling my thumbs. Or filling out forms. If you can't use me the way I need to be used, then transfer me! Get me the fuck out of this office. Out of this city." Graham paused. "And away from you."
Kyle Tyner took a deep breath. "All right, Graham, I think I may have something for you."
***
Title: Atlanta Bureau: Part 2: "Take Out"
Author: Gaedhal
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: Graham Kelton, Lin Mei
Summary: Agent Kelton finishes up.
Author's notes/Disclaimers: Only general character spoilers.
"Take Out"
Graham stayed at the office late, trying to clear up the reams of paperwork on his desk.
Agent Lin Mei touched his shoulder on her way out. "Why don't you go home and get some sleep? You look beat."
"I can't sleep," Graham admitted. "And if I'm not going to sleep then I might as well stay here and do this work. I doubt the Office Elves are going to tiptoe in here during the night and do it all for me."
Lin smiled. Graham could be infuriating at times, but there was also something endearing about him. Something very vulnerable. But she could never tell him that. Graham worked very hard to keep up the front of the consummate agent, totally professional and aggressively macho, and he would be crushed to know that, at least with her, that image didn't always hold up.
"Don't wear yourself out," she said.
Graham watched her walk away. He got along well with Lin. He felt comfortable with her -- and there were few people he could say that about. He also trusted her absolutely, something vital in a fellow agent. She called him on his bullshit, yet she wasn't pushy. And she was always there to lend an ear when he needed to vent, yet she didn't probe for details about his private life.
He rubbed his tired eyes. Lin never questioned him, but he assumed that there was little she didn't know about him. Things that were unsaid about his past -- and his present. That was just as well. Because at present he had no real personal life. Except for his daughter. She was his only focus right now. And that was the way it should be.
Graham glanced up at the clock. It was after 10:00. He could probably stay another hour or two, but what good would it do? Better to start fresh in the morning.
Assuming he got some sleep.
He stood up and stretched, then put on his jacket. It was always mild in Atlanta, but this year it seemed particularly warm for so early in the spring.
He walked past the door of Kyle's office. Kyle had long since gone home. Home in time for supper. Kyle still made time for a life, that was obvious. Made time for a lot of things. Still, Graham didn't envy him his job. There was too much politics involved in being the head of the bureau. Too much dealing with Headquarters in D.C. And with the media. Not to mention all the other bullshit that went with being the boss. Well, if Kyle wanted that, then he could have it.
But some things Kyle wanted he couldn't have. That was over and done with. Which was all for the best.
Now, if he would just give Graham a decent case. One good, solid case. That would make up for so much.
This afternoon Kyle had promised him the next big case that came into the office, but Graham wasn't holding his breath. He knew what Kyle's promises often amounted to -- nothing. They sounded good when he was saying them -- a lot of things sounded good coming out of Kyle's mouth -- but that's as far as it went. It was all air. All for show. That Graham still wanted to believe him said a lot about his own problems. Things he was still in denial about and probably always would be.
But Kyle was no better. He was in denial, too. But Kyle would never admit that. He liked to have things both ways. And always his own way. Maybe that's what made him the Chief of the Atlanta Bureau and Graham only an agent with a very public failure on his record.
Graham got into his car and drove along streets wet from an evening shower. He realized that he had no food at home. He was always forgetting to buy the stuff he needed and often ended up opening a can of franks and beans or filling a bowl with cornflakes and making that his dinner. But he was suddenly hungry for real food. He turned down a side street and drove to a barbecue place that was open all hours.
The barbecue joint was little more than a shack with a few card tables and folding chairs set up in front of a counter. Two old men were playing cards, drinking beer, and smoking cigarettes at one of the tables, but they never even turned around to look at a tall, well-dressed white man walking in the door.
Graham smelled the meat cooking on an old rack over an open fire just outside the back door. It made his mouth water. It reminded him of better times when he'd never had to eat alone. He ordered a slab of ribs and some pulled pork, with fried taters, polk salad, and cornbread on the side. Much more food than he could eat, but he didn't care. At least he'd have something in the icebox for another day.
"Rainin'," said the man behind the counter. He placed a paper sack with the food on the counter.
"We could use it," said Graham, laying down some bills.
"Gonna be a hot summer," the man nodded as he made change. "Folks be crazy when it gets too hot."
"People are crazy, hot or not," said Graham, who had good reason to know just how crazy some folks could be. Crazy enough to blow up children. Yeah, too crazy. And they were out there in the world.
That's what made Graham crazy. Knowing they were out there. Just out of reach.
But not for long.
Not if he could help it.
"Thanks," he said. And he walked out into the balmy Atlanta evening.
***
Title: Atlanta Bureau: Part 3: "Midnight Snack"
Author: Gaedhal
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: Graham Kelton/Kyle Tyner
Summary: Agent Kelton goes home -- and gets a visitor.
Author's notes/Disclaimers: Only general character spoilers.
"Midnight Snack"
By the time Graham parked the car and trudged to his door, he was bone-tired. All those nights of lost sleep were definitely catching up with him.
He balanced the bag of food on his hip and got out his key.
But something was wrong. He could feel it.
A shadow.
Something moving behind him.
But he couldn't get to his gun fast enough...
Unless...
He dropped the bag of food and whipped around, reaching for the weapon in his shoulder holster.
"Jesus, Graham!" said Kyle, putting his hands up. He was smiling slightly, his dark eyes full of amusement. "Don't shoot. It's only me."
Graham took a deep breath. He realized that he was sweating and his heart was pounding in his chest. This was not the automatic reaction, calm and controlled, that he'd been trained to give at the Academy. Not by any means.
"It'd be another wonderful addition to my record if I shot my supervisor, wouldn't it, Kyle?" Graham took another deep breath, and then another. Bringing his pulse down. Putting the mask back in place. And slowly replacing his gun in its holster.
"Sorry," Kyle said contritely. "I thought you saw me coming."
"I never see you coming." Graham opened the door and let Kyle go in ahead of him.
It always seemed so quiet at his place these days. Absence was the loudest sound Graham could hear. He set the bag of food, now more than slightly crumpled, down on the kitchen counter.
"What do you have there?" asked Kyle, making himself at home. He opened the icebox and took a cold beer.
"Some food from that rib shack I took you to once," said Graham, removing the styrofoam containers. "Remember?"
"Sure. I remember." Kyle took a long pull on the beer bottle while his dark, veiled eyes watched Graham. "That smells good."
"Help yourself." Graham took out two plates, two forks, two knives, and a handful of napkins and placed them on the counter next to the food.
"Oh, I already ate," said Kyle. "But maybe just a taste."
They carried the plates into the living room and sat on the sofa.
"How long were you waiting for me to come home?" Graham asked. "Why didn't you call my cell and let me know you were coming?"
But Graham already knew the answer. Calling his cell left a trail. Proof that Kyle had tried to contact him. Proof that this visit was premeditated.
"Oh, I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by," Kyle said off-handedly. "These ribs are great." He licked the bone before setting it back on the plate.
"You're so full of shit," said Graham. "You didn't just happen to be in this neighborhood. And you never just stop by. You never do anything you don't intend, Kyle, so don't give me that!"
"I was restless," Kyle admitted. "Maybe the truth is that I wanted to talk to you." He paused and looked directly at Graham. "To see you."
"You see me at the office every day," Graham reminded him. "And you talk to me every day, too -- mainly to chew me out about something. But that's what the boss does, isn't it? The Big Boys in Washington like their bureaus to be run like tight ships, so when there's a loose cannon on board it's the captain's job to tie that sucker down. And that's me. The loose cannon. So you have to come down on me -- and come down hard. Ironic, isn't it?"
"I don't like doing it, Graham," said Kyle. He put his empty plate on the coffee table. "You know I don't. But you're right -- it's my job. I never want anyone, anywhere to be able to say that I showed you any favoritism."
Graham smiled in spite of himself. "Oh, they'll never be able to say that, Kyle. Never. Your secret is safe. Always so safe. Just like you -- always playing it safe."
"It doesn't feel safe," Kyle returned. He looked at Graham's face. He looked tired, he thought, but beautiful. He's been through hell in the past year, but he's still beautiful. Those eyes -- those green and golden eyes.... "It never feels safe with you." Kyle leaned in and kissed Graham. "You know how I feel about you, Graham. You know that I love you."
Graham resisted for a moment. This was the last thing he needed now. For all this to begin again. But as much as he tried to withstand Kyle's embraces, he couldn't. His body wouldn't let him. He'd been too lonely. Too full of regrets about everything. But here was one place where he could let himself go.
"Goddamn," he whispered. "Why?"
"Because I want to," murmured Kyle. "And so do you."
***
Graham turned over and opened his eyes. He hadn't even realized that he'd fallen asleep.
The clock read 2:09.
Kyle was getting dressed. He buttoned his white shirt over his lean, dark chest.
"I didn't mean to wake you up," said Kyle. "I know you need your sleep."
Graham ran his long fingers through his hair. "You never stay. I can't remember a single time when you've been here in the morning."
"You know I can't do that," said Kyle. He sat down on the edge of the bed and put on his socks.
"You could if you wanted to," Graham countered. "But that wouldn't do, would it?"
"I have my obligations -- and you have yours." Kyle slipped on his shoes and tied them.
That was the way it always was and always would be, thought Graham. All soft words and passionate declarations before -- and all business afterwards.
Kyle bent over to kiss Graham, but he turned his face away.
Kyle straightened up and squared his shoulders. Graham could be a bitch at times. Petulant. Demanding. He thought of himself as a rebel. A non-conformist. But what he really was was a child. A brilliant, beautiful, needy, and troublesome child. So that's the way Kyle would treat him.
"I'll see you in the office," said Kyle, slipping on his jacket. "Tomorrow."
"Right," said Graham, watching Kyle saunter out of the bedroom. He heard the front door slam. "In the office. Tomorrow."
***
Title: Atlanta Bureau: Part 4: "Communion"
Author: Gaedhal
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: Graham Kelton
Summary: Agent Kelton goes to church.
Author's notes/Disclaimers: Only general character spoilers.
Contains some general spoilers for "Vanished" eps. 101 and 102.
"Communion"
After Kyle left, Graham didn't even try to sleep. Instead, he got out of bed and sat in the living room, thinking and listening as the rain began to fall again.
How did things get so fucked up so fast? he wondered. Six months ago his life had been complicated, that was certainly true, but he had been dealing with it. Or trying to deal with it. Okay, maybe things were fucked up then, too, but he hadn't felt so adrift. So at a loss for what to think and where to turn. Or so guilty.
In the past he'd always known what was right, even when he didn't always do the right thing. Graham believed in the things he was supposed to believe in, really believed in them. God. Family. His Country. The Corps. The Bureau. Those were the things that never changed. The things he could be sure of whenever he felt himself wavering. Perhaps he was a sinner -- he knew he would be forgiven. Perhaps he strayed -- he knew he'd be taken back. Perhaps he made a mistake -- there was nothing that couldn't be rectified.
Until that night. The kidnapped boy. Nathan Miller. One mistake in judgement. An explosion. And his target was dead. No, a child was dead. A little boy. A boy not much older than his own daughter. And that fact haunted him. All bets were off.
Graham had also come close to being killed that night, but he put that out of his mind. The life of an agent, like that of a soldier, was always on the line. Always a willing sacrifice to a greater good, a higher cause.
But Graham had been raised to understand sacrifice. Raised to believe that his body and his life were part of a larger plan. At one time in his life he had even considered the Seminary before realizing that, for numerous reasons, he wasn't really priest material. But there were other ways to serve. Other ways to offer yourself to that greater good. Which was why the Corps had been a god-send. And then the Bureau. Places where there was order. Where the rules were clear. And where you always knew where you stood.
However, the Bureau had failed him and then let him take the fall. Let the media come down hard on him for the death of Nathan Miller. And Kyle, as his boss, had failed him, too. But that was part of being an agent. Part of the sacrifice. Graham had been as good an agent as he'd been a soldier. He had always believed totally in what he was doing and that made him fearless. But Graham was also intelligent. Careful. Insightful. He wasn't simply a piece of meat with a gun. And that made him valuable to the Bureau. It was also the reason he was being given a second chance.
After the incident where the boy was killed, the Bureau put Graham on extended leave. Rest and recreation, supposedly. But the reality was that his life, his career, and his marriage were crumbling around him and there was nothing he could do about it. His marriage had turned out to be unsalvageable. His career had been on hold for half a year.
And his life? Graham didn't know. That was a murky question still to be answered.
It was getting light out. Once again he'd sat up all night without sleeping. He pulled himself to his feet and headed for the shower. Then he dressed and walked out into the dawn and the light spring rain that was still falling over Atlanta.
The church wasn't far. In the past he had often walked the short distance to attend Mass, sometimes taking his daughter, Inez, holding her little hand or carrying her if she got tired. And soon she'd be making her First Communion there.
It was an old church, always dark and cool inside, the stained glass diffusing the relentless Georgia sun. This morning it smelled of candle smoke and damp stone. Only a few people, all older women, were kneeling in the front pews for early Mass. Graham sat in the last pew, watching.
The priest, attended by a single sleepy server, blessed the Host and the Precious Blood and distributed Communion to the women. He peered out to the back of the church and noted the single figure sitting there. But he didn't approach the altar.
The service ended and the women moved slowly up the aisle, putting away their rosaries and putting on their plastic rain bonnets to protect their hair from the shower.
Graham glanced at his watch, waiting for the earliest time he could arrive at the office without calling attention to himself. But in the meanwhile, the church was quiet. The perfect place for reflection. The perfect place to be anonymous and alone with his thoughts. The perfect place to....
"Graham?"
He closed his eyes. "Yes, Father?"
"I thought that was you." The priest sat down next to Graham at the end of the pew. "I've seen you here a lot lately, but you never come up and take Communion. Why is that?"
Graham shrugged. "No particular reason."
He looked away, avoiding the priest's patient gaze.
"Would you like to talk about it?" the priest nudged.
"There's nothing to talk about," Graham said dismssively. "If I have something to say, I'll come to Confession next Wednesday and tell you about it there."
The priest sighed. "I know you've been enduring some trying times recently, but that's no reason to close yourself off from your Faith."
"I'm not closing myself off, Father," Graham denied. "I'm protecting myself." And he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
The priest tried another tactic. "Your daughter is getting ready to make her First Holy Communion very soon."
"I know," Graham nodded.
"You and your wife...." The priest hesitated. "I know there are some problems there, but I hope you'll be here for your child. It's important."
"I'll be here," Graham said heatedly, annoyed that the priest assumed he would blow off Inez's First Communion for any reason. "The trouble between me and my wife has nothing to do with my love for my daughter!"
"I never suggested that it did," the priest replied gently. He could feel the pain radiating from the man.
Graham glanced at his watch again. "I need to go. I have work to do." He stood up abruptly and pushed passed the priest to the aisle.
The priest rose slowly from the wooden pew, extending his hand. "Please come back, Graham. This is a place that will always welcome you."
He took the priest's hand tentatively. "Not necessarily, Father. I always believed that God's love was unconditional. But I'm sorry to say that I'm not sure I believe that anymore. Too many things have happened. Too many things...."
Graham shook the priest's hand briskly and then let it go. He turned and walked out of the church. The sun was rising in the sky now and the rain was only a memory.
Graham headed back to the office, praying for something to change.
Something.
Anything.
Soon.