(no subject)
Title: Crimes of Perception
Genre: Prison Break
Author: Kate Monster
Characters: LJ Burrows, Lincoln Burrows, Michael Scofield, Sara Tancredi, Paul Kellerman
Rating: PG-13 ("Language, LJ!")
Summary: LJ is finally in a place that should be safe, with people he should be able to trust, but no place is safe anymore.
Spoilers: Through 2.07, beyond that is unspoiled speculation.
“Keep the change,” she said, and only when the door was closed and locked and the smell of pizza was hitting the bathroom did LJ finally relax and emerge. He helped her position the boxes across the desk and opened one to grab a pair of slices for himself before settling back on the bed, seated Indian-style. He wasn’t about to wait for Mike and his dad - if they wanted pizza, they could finish whatever the hell it was they were doing in the next room.
“So,” Sara said, dabbing at the grease on her pizza with a napkin, “I want to know a little something about you, LJ Burrows, if we’re going to be friends. What do you want to be when you grow up?”
He chewed thoughtfully on his breadstick. He hadn’t thought much about the future lately. Not like his dad, who was all worried about his education. He used to want to be an architect, or maybe a writer. He swallowed. “One of the good guys,” he said at last, then he hesitated. “The really good guys. Not the cops and stuff who tried to hurt my dad. Or, like, the guards that kicked my ass at the detention center. I want to really make things fair.” He hesitated. “I mean, there’s a lot of bad stuff out there, I know I can’t fix it all, but…” He trailed off.
She was silent for a moment, smiling faintly. “I think you will,” she said. “If anybody can do it, you can. It’s not easy, you know.” She dipped her crust into the garlic butter. So Sara ate her pizza backwards. Somehow, it didn’t exactly seem like the kind of information Uncle Mike was fishing for. “I worked in a prison, I know those guys. There’s a lot of pressure on them and very little room for humanity.”
“Oh hell, no, I didn’t mean work in a prison,” LJ said in a rush. “I spent way too much time in them already. I’m never going back.”
“So what did you mean then?”
He turned the breadstick over in his hands. “The book,” he said slowly, “that I’m reading. For that homework assignment for Dad? That’s what it’s about. I think.”
“What?”
He licked his lips, thinking it over, searching for the words. “It’s kinda… I guess it’s about how you go on living when you’re in a country that wanted your parents dead. This kid in this book, he’s just like me like that. Nobody else knows what that’s like. And the book is about, like, how you go on after that.”
“How do you?” she asked.
“You don’t,” he said firmly. “He doesn’t. So that’s why I got a new idea. If you don’t like it, change it.” He stabbed his breadstick in the garlic butter for emphasis.
“Change it?”
“Change the world. That’s where he messed up, in just being mad at it. I’m going to change the world.” He bit off another bite of bread. “I don’t know how yet is the only thing,” he said around his mouthful.
She smiled. “I can get behind that. That’s what Gandhi said, you know.” She hesitated, looking down at her plate, as if something else had struck her.
“Gandhi was kind of lame,” LJ said. “I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad if he’d had more guns and stuff.”
Sara coughed and nearly spit out her pizza. She dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “I hope you’re kidding,” she said.
“Sort of,” he agreed cheerfully. He swallowed the mouthful he’d been chewing. “How did you wind up with that guy? Kellerman?”
She looked up to the ceiling. “We didn’t trust him, if that’s what you mean.”
“He came to you, right? That’s how Mike made it sound?”
“He was an opportunity,” she said slowly. “We were trying to use him for what we could.”
“You can’t with these guys,” LJ said. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“I get that now,” she said.
“Well, good,” he said.
“You don’t know me. I’m not a very trusting person, LJ,” she said. “Present company excluded.”
“You can trust my uncle,” he said slowly. “I mean that.” Was he really pimping Michael out to this woman? Maybe he was. Maybe that was okay.
She looked up at him, considering this, and it was then that the door opened and Michael poked his head in. “Hey. You guys wanna come in here for a second?”
LJ glanced at Sara, who shrugged, apparently realizing, as he did, that it wasn’t exactly a choice as the words might have suggested. He reached for another slice of pizza and dropped it onto his plate before standing to walk into the room. He hadn’t realized just how much he was starv-
LJ stopped dead in his tracks, struck silent in surprise for the second time in as many days. He turned around to Sara, figuring that it had to be for her, his birthday had been a few weeks back, but then he realized that everyone was staring at him, and the cake was his.
“What?” he asked. “This isn’t-“ He saw Michael take a deep breath and glance at Lincoln, as though they were preparing to sing, and he cut them off. “Don’t sing. Please.” Sara grinned and leaned against the wall. “But it’s not my birthday.”
“I know we couldn’t exactly celebrate this year,” Lincoln said, sounding a little nervous, as he lit the last candle. “And I wanted to make up for it, since I missed a few of them there.”
“You didn’t have to,” LJ said. “I mean…”
“You weren’t kidding about the overdrive,” he heard Sara murmur from behind him, apparently in awe.
“If we’re not gonna sing, somebody’s gotta blow those out before we set off the smoke detectors,” Michael pointed out with dead seriousness. “That’s the last thing we need right now.”
“Uh - yeah,” LJ said, closed his eyes and wished briefly for everything to work out, and then opened them and blew, extinguishing the candles in a puff of smoke. “How did you even get a cake in here?” It wasn’t exactly the most stunning cake ever, and “HAPPY BDAY LJ” was scratched out with a plastic fork, but it did look fresh.
“Secret,” Michael said, reaching for a knife. “How big do you want?”
“Whatever, is fine,” he said, distracted.
He hadn’t skipped his birthday, after all. They’d celebrated. Veronica had known somehow, probably from following all the court processes, or maybe she’d always known, since after all, she was around when he was younger, on and off. She hadn’t told him that she remembered, though. He didn’t think anybody would remember, but when he woke up that morning there was a banner hanging over the window, right in the living room with him, they must have put it up when he was sleeping, and then later on that day she brought cupcakes home, and after dinner he refused to let her and Nick sing to him, but they had presents anyway. Veronica gave him clothes, which he normally would have hated but he needed them pretty badly and she was an okay shopper, and Nick gave him a couple of CDs and a set of primers on legal practices that were designed for a high school curriculum. He’d tossed the primers pretty quickly, but he had, in fact, celebrated his birthday.
Michael handed him a slice, and he looked ridiculously happy about it, so LJ tried to smile back. He had to humor them, anyway. It was a nice gesture, and they couldn’t know how much it hurt to think that he was going to keep having birthdays that would never be like the ones his mom used to throw for him. She was good at making cakes. She would never have scratched his name out in the icing with a fork, even if she was pressed for resources. She would have come up with something else. She loved making cakes.
“Just say the word when you’re ready for presents,” Lincoln said.
“Presents?” LJ echoed weakly.
“Do not underestimate the amount of effort your dad put into this,” Michael whispered tightly behind him. “Just… humor him.”
“Presents,” LJ said again, trying to smile.
“Are you okay?” Lincoln asked, stepping forward with concern.
“I’m great,” LJ said. “This is… this is great. Thanks.” He turned away to take a bite of his cake. “It tastes… great. Dad.” He forced the words out.
Sara and Michael slowly drifted together, mumbling something to each other about the cake and the pizza in the next room. LJ could only focus on the slice in front of him as he sank onto the bed. It wasn’t as fresh as the cupcakes from Veronica. Had they risked anything to get this for him? Exposed themselves where they shouldn’t? And why should a simple thing like a birthday cake be so… upsetting?
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” Lincoln said softly, sitting down beside him. He must have noticed. LJ winced. He was hoping to hide his freak out better than that. “Your uncle and me, we’ve got it under control. We made it this far, right?”
“I know,” LJ mumbled. “I believe you. I believe in you. I have faith.” That seemed like what his father would want to hear.
“If you don’t want your presents,” Lincoln added, “I can always have them sent back-“
“No,” LJ said, looking up suddenly. “I want presents.”
“Great,” Lincoln said with increased vigor, leaping from the bed. “Hey Michael, what’d you do with that bag?”
“In the back,” Michael said, wandering back into the room and diverting to the bathroom.
LJ watched expectantly as Michael brought out a brown paper bag. “We couldn’t really wrap it,” Lincoln apologized.
“That’s okay,” LJ said. He took the bag and eagerly opened it up. “What’s this?” He pulled it out. “Holy shit,” he said, then added “Language!” as his father and uncle chimed in again, grinning this time.
“An iPod?” he asked. “But…” He looked up, afraid to ask.
“And the envelope,” Michael said. LJ glanced down and pulled out the envelope, then opened it to reveal a handful of iTunes cards. Much, much better than clothes and legal primers. “We figured you can use Sara’s laptop to download some stuff to put on it,” he said. “Don’t worry, we did it all in cash. It’s secure.”
“I know,” LJ said. Of course it was secure if Michael had approved it. Michael would only approve safe technology in these walls. But still… He looked up. He was afraid to say thanks. He was afraid to enjoy the moment. Maybe he was just afraid.
“I hope it’s what you wanted,” Lincoln said. “I didn’t really know how to ask.”
“It’s… it’s great,” LJ said. “Thanks, Dad.”
“And Mike,” Lincoln said quickly.
“Thanks, Mike,” he said automatically. He clutched the box to his chest. “Is that it?”
“What more did you want?” Michael asked in disbelief.
He hesitated a second, then decided that as long as he was the guest of honor, he was going to make the best of it. “I want a gun.”
It was as if he’d farted in the middle of the room, or maybe announced he was joining Scientology, but everyone froze at once, staring at him.
“We have plenty to go around,” LJ pointed out, feeling weak all of a sudden. “And things could get hairy.”
“Nope. Out of the question,” Lincoln said. “Forget it.”
“Come on, Dad,” he pleaded. “I know how to shoot. I tagged the guy once already. Just let me carry one. I’ll keep the cartridge separate.”
Lincoln just shook his head emphatically.
“Maybe we should consider it,” Michael said in a low tone.
“No way,” Lincoln said, looking up, his voice rising.
“Linc… what if something happens? To us? To Sara? This isn’t summer camp,” Michael continued.
“I know it’s not summer camp, Michael,” Lincoln snapped. “And I don’t want my kid sitting in the middle of it all with a loaded revolver.” He gestured wildly in LJ’s direction.
“Your kid is sitting in the middle of it all,” Michael said patiently. “Remember? We’ve been over this. And knowing that kid right there, he’s gonna get ahold of a gun whether you like it or not, and the only thing you can do is teach him how to use it.”
LJ wasn’t sure that he necessarily preferred that line of reasoning, but it did seem to have an effect on his father, who turned away, his hands rising to his head in apparent frustration.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” LJ reminded him. “I’m old enough to be tried as an adult now.”
Lincoln looked to him, his face stricken, as his arms fell to his sides. “I know.” He licked his lips and looked away. “That’s what scares me.”
“I know how to shoot. I shot a guy already.”
“Yeah, and look how well that ended up.”
“If I’d known what I was doing in the first place, we wouldn’t have that little Kellerman problem right now,” LJ pointed out.
“You’re a hothead,” Lincoln said, shaking his head. “Just like your old man. Thank god I didn’t have a weapon when I was your age, or else I might have really killed somebody.”
“This isn’t some street fight, Dad,” LJ reminded him. “I need to be able to defend myself.”
Lincoln collapsed on the bed, burying his head in his hands. “You pass my gun safety course first,” he said, rubbing at his scalp.
“So, uh… is that before or after my homework is due?” LJ asked, brightening up.
“It’s when we get somewhere we can do it safely,” Lincoln said. He raised his head. “Until then, you stay out of the weapons, and anything at all happens, you hit the floor and get behind me and Mike. In fact, any time you can hit the floor and get behind me and Mike, just consider that a general rule of engagement.”
“Cool,” LJ said. He could feel the smile starting to take over his face for the first time all day. Lincoln stood up and he couldn’t help but rush over to him to hug him. “Thanks, Dad.” He pulled back. “For all of it. The cake, the iPod, the gun.”
“It’s… not exactly the birthday party I was hoping for,” Lincoln said.
“Best one ever,” LJ said, but even as he said the words, he knew that his smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“So we’ve got the coke that came with the pizza here,” Sara said, “but it’s kinda warm.”
“I’ll go get some ice out of the vending machine,” LJ offered, glancing up.
“I don’t know,” Michael said, his eyebrows turning downward with concern.
“We can’t make Sara do everything,” LJ said. “Come on. Just a little fresh air. I’ll be right back.”
“Go fast,” Lincoln said.
He took the ice bucket and practically fled the room. Being in such close quarters with the man who had fathered him was starting to get downright weird. He’d only spent this much time around him on rare occasions, and even then, they were never together all the time. What did they say? Be careful what you wish for?
He opened the door to the ice machine and began to shovel the ice into the bucket. He debated whether or not to fill it to the top and then decided he might as well, just so they didn’t have to come back. Being out here alone on the balcony made him nervous.
He closed the lid of the bucket, closed the door to the machine, and turned to study the parking lot. And as he did, his eyes met the eyes of someone looking right back at him.
Someone only too familiar.
LJ didn’t even panic this time. Instead, he gripped the bucket tightly, and walked as fast as he could, down the balcony, opening the door to the room and closing it behind him, only breathing once he was inside.
“Guys,” he said, his voice steady, “he’s out there.”
Genre: Prison Break
Author: Kate Monster
Characters: LJ Burrows, Lincoln Burrows, Michael Scofield, Sara Tancredi, Paul Kellerman
Rating: PG-13 ("Language, LJ!")
Summary: LJ is finally in a place that should be safe, with people he should be able to trust, but no place is safe anymore.
Spoilers: Through 2.07, beyond that is unspoiled speculation.
“Keep the change,” she said, and only when the door was closed and locked and the smell of pizza was hitting the bathroom did LJ finally relax and emerge. He helped her position the boxes across the desk and opened one to grab a pair of slices for himself before settling back on the bed, seated Indian-style. He wasn’t about to wait for Mike and his dad - if they wanted pizza, they could finish whatever the hell it was they were doing in the next room.
“So,” Sara said, dabbing at the grease on her pizza with a napkin, “I want to know a little something about you, LJ Burrows, if we’re going to be friends. What do you want to be when you grow up?”
He chewed thoughtfully on his breadstick. He hadn’t thought much about the future lately. Not like his dad, who was all worried about his education. He used to want to be an architect, or maybe a writer. He swallowed. “One of the good guys,” he said at last, then he hesitated. “The really good guys. Not the cops and stuff who tried to hurt my dad. Or, like, the guards that kicked my ass at the detention center. I want to really make things fair.” He hesitated. “I mean, there’s a lot of bad stuff out there, I know I can’t fix it all, but…” He trailed off.
She was silent for a moment, smiling faintly. “I think you will,” she said. “If anybody can do it, you can. It’s not easy, you know.” She dipped her crust into the garlic butter. So Sara ate her pizza backwards. Somehow, it didn’t exactly seem like the kind of information Uncle Mike was fishing for. “I worked in a prison, I know those guys. There’s a lot of pressure on them and very little room for humanity.”
“Oh hell, no, I didn’t mean work in a prison,” LJ said in a rush. “I spent way too much time in them already. I’m never going back.”
“So what did you mean then?”
He turned the breadstick over in his hands. “The book,” he said slowly, “that I’m reading. For that homework assignment for Dad? That’s what it’s about. I think.”
“What?”
He licked his lips, thinking it over, searching for the words. “It’s kinda… I guess it’s about how you go on living when you’re in a country that wanted your parents dead. This kid in this book, he’s just like me like that. Nobody else knows what that’s like. And the book is about, like, how you go on after that.”
“How do you?” she asked.
“You don’t,” he said firmly. “He doesn’t. So that’s why I got a new idea. If you don’t like it, change it.” He stabbed his breadstick in the garlic butter for emphasis.
“Change it?”
“Change the world. That’s where he messed up, in just being mad at it. I’m going to change the world.” He bit off another bite of bread. “I don’t know how yet is the only thing,” he said around his mouthful.
She smiled. “I can get behind that. That’s what Gandhi said, you know.” She hesitated, looking down at her plate, as if something else had struck her.
“Gandhi was kind of lame,” LJ said. “I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad if he’d had more guns and stuff.”
Sara coughed and nearly spit out her pizza. She dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “I hope you’re kidding,” she said.
“Sort of,” he agreed cheerfully. He swallowed the mouthful he’d been chewing. “How did you wind up with that guy? Kellerman?”
She looked up to the ceiling. “We didn’t trust him, if that’s what you mean.”
“He came to you, right? That’s how Mike made it sound?”
“He was an opportunity,” she said slowly. “We were trying to use him for what we could.”
“You can’t with these guys,” LJ said. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“I get that now,” she said.
“Well, good,” he said.
“You don’t know me. I’m not a very trusting person, LJ,” she said. “Present company excluded.”
“You can trust my uncle,” he said slowly. “I mean that.” Was he really pimping Michael out to this woman? Maybe he was. Maybe that was okay.
She looked up at him, considering this, and it was then that the door opened and Michael poked his head in. “Hey. You guys wanna come in here for a second?”
LJ glanced at Sara, who shrugged, apparently realizing, as he did, that it wasn’t exactly a choice as the words might have suggested. He reached for another slice of pizza and dropped it onto his plate before standing to walk into the room. He hadn’t realized just how much he was starv-
LJ stopped dead in his tracks, struck silent in surprise for the second time in as many days. He turned around to Sara, figuring that it had to be for her, his birthday had been a few weeks back, but then he realized that everyone was staring at him, and the cake was his.
“What?” he asked. “This isn’t-“ He saw Michael take a deep breath and glance at Lincoln, as though they were preparing to sing, and he cut them off. “Don’t sing. Please.” Sara grinned and leaned against the wall. “But it’s not my birthday.”
“I know we couldn’t exactly celebrate this year,” Lincoln said, sounding a little nervous, as he lit the last candle. “And I wanted to make up for it, since I missed a few of them there.”
“You didn’t have to,” LJ said. “I mean…”
“You weren’t kidding about the overdrive,” he heard Sara murmur from behind him, apparently in awe.
“If we’re not gonna sing, somebody’s gotta blow those out before we set off the smoke detectors,” Michael pointed out with dead seriousness. “That’s the last thing we need right now.”
“Uh - yeah,” LJ said, closed his eyes and wished briefly for everything to work out, and then opened them and blew, extinguishing the candles in a puff of smoke. “How did you even get a cake in here?” It wasn’t exactly the most stunning cake ever, and “HAPPY BDAY LJ” was scratched out with a plastic fork, but it did look fresh.
“Secret,” Michael said, reaching for a knife. “How big do you want?”
“Whatever, is fine,” he said, distracted.
He hadn’t skipped his birthday, after all. They’d celebrated. Veronica had known somehow, probably from following all the court processes, or maybe she’d always known, since after all, she was around when he was younger, on and off. She hadn’t told him that she remembered, though. He didn’t think anybody would remember, but when he woke up that morning there was a banner hanging over the window, right in the living room with him, they must have put it up when he was sleeping, and then later on that day she brought cupcakes home, and after dinner he refused to let her and Nick sing to him, but they had presents anyway. Veronica gave him clothes, which he normally would have hated but he needed them pretty badly and she was an okay shopper, and Nick gave him a couple of CDs and a set of primers on legal practices that were designed for a high school curriculum. He’d tossed the primers pretty quickly, but he had, in fact, celebrated his birthday.
Michael handed him a slice, and he looked ridiculously happy about it, so LJ tried to smile back. He had to humor them, anyway. It was a nice gesture, and they couldn’t know how much it hurt to think that he was going to keep having birthdays that would never be like the ones his mom used to throw for him. She was good at making cakes. She would never have scratched his name out in the icing with a fork, even if she was pressed for resources. She would have come up with something else. She loved making cakes.
“Just say the word when you’re ready for presents,” Lincoln said.
“Presents?” LJ echoed weakly.
“Do not underestimate the amount of effort your dad put into this,” Michael whispered tightly behind him. “Just… humor him.”
“Presents,” LJ said again, trying to smile.
“Are you okay?” Lincoln asked, stepping forward with concern.
“I’m great,” LJ said. “This is… this is great. Thanks.” He turned away to take a bite of his cake. “It tastes… great. Dad.” He forced the words out.
Sara and Michael slowly drifted together, mumbling something to each other about the cake and the pizza in the next room. LJ could only focus on the slice in front of him as he sank onto the bed. It wasn’t as fresh as the cupcakes from Veronica. Had they risked anything to get this for him? Exposed themselves where they shouldn’t? And why should a simple thing like a birthday cake be so… upsetting?
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” Lincoln said softly, sitting down beside him. He must have noticed. LJ winced. He was hoping to hide his freak out better than that. “Your uncle and me, we’ve got it under control. We made it this far, right?”
“I know,” LJ mumbled. “I believe you. I believe in you. I have faith.” That seemed like what his father would want to hear.
“If you don’t want your presents,” Lincoln added, “I can always have them sent back-“
“No,” LJ said, looking up suddenly. “I want presents.”
“Great,” Lincoln said with increased vigor, leaping from the bed. “Hey Michael, what’d you do with that bag?”
“In the back,” Michael said, wandering back into the room and diverting to the bathroom.
LJ watched expectantly as Michael brought out a brown paper bag. “We couldn’t really wrap it,” Lincoln apologized.
“That’s okay,” LJ said. He took the bag and eagerly opened it up. “What’s this?” He pulled it out. “Holy shit,” he said, then added “Language!” as his father and uncle chimed in again, grinning this time.
“An iPod?” he asked. “But…” He looked up, afraid to ask.
“And the envelope,” Michael said. LJ glanced down and pulled out the envelope, then opened it to reveal a handful of iTunes cards. Much, much better than clothes and legal primers. “We figured you can use Sara’s laptop to download some stuff to put on it,” he said. “Don’t worry, we did it all in cash. It’s secure.”
“I know,” LJ said. Of course it was secure if Michael had approved it. Michael would only approve safe technology in these walls. But still… He looked up. He was afraid to say thanks. He was afraid to enjoy the moment. Maybe he was just afraid.
“I hope it’s what you wanted,” Lincoln said. “I didn’t really know how to ask.”
“It’s… it’s great,” LJ said. “Thanks, Dad.”
“And Mike,” Lincoln said quickly.
“Thanks, Mike,” he said automatically. He clutched the box to his chest. “Is that it?”
“What more did you want?” Michael asked in disbelief.
He hesitated a second, then decided that as long as he was the guest of honor, he was going to make the best of it. “I want a gun.”
It was as if he’d farted in the middle of the room, or maybe announced he was joining Scientology, but everyone froze at once, staring at him.
“We have plenty to go around,” LJ pointed out, feeling weak all of a sudden. “And things could get hairy.”
“Nope. Out of the question,” Lincoln said. “Forget it.”
“Come on, Dad,” he pleaded. “I know how to shoot. I tagged the guy once already. Just let me carry one. I’ll keep the cartridge separate.”
Lincoln just shook his head emphatically.
“Maybe we should consider it,” Michael said in a low tone.
“No way,” Lincoln said, looking up, his voice rising.
“Linc… what if something happens? To us? To Sara? This isn’t summer camp,” Michael continued.
“I know it’s not summer camp, Michael,” Lincoln snapped. “And I don’t want my kid sitting in the middle of it all with a loaded revolver.” He gestured wildly in LJ’s direction.
“Your kid is sitting in the middle of it all,” Michael said patiently. “Remember? We’ve been over this. And knowing that kid right there, he’s gonna get ahold of a gun whether you like it or not, and the only thing you can do is teach him how to use it.”
LJ wasn’t sure that he necessarily preferred that line of reasoning, but it did seem to have an effect on his father, who turned away, his hands rising to his head in apparent frustration.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” LJ reminded him. “I’m old enough to be tried as an adult now.”
Lincoln looked to him, his face stricken, as his arms fell to his sides. “I know.” He licked his lips and looked away. “That’s what scares me.”
“I know how to shoot. I shot a guy already.”
“Yeah, and look how well that ended up.”
“If I’d known what I was doing in the first place, we wouldn’t have that little Kellerman problem right now,” LJ pointed out.
“You’re a hothead,” Lincoln said, shaking his head. “Just like your old man. Thank god I didn’t have a weapon when I was your age, or else I might have really killed somebody.”
“This isn’t some street fight, Dad,” LJ reminded him. “I need to be able to defend myself.”
Lincoln collapsed on the bed, burying his head in his hands. “You pass my gun safety course first,” he said, rubbing at his scalp.
“So, uh… is that before or after my homework is due?” LJ asked, brightening up.
“It’s when we get somewhere we can do it safely,” Lincoln said. He raised his head. “Until then, you stay out of the weapons, and anything at all happens, you hit the floor and get behind me and Mike. In fact, any time you can hit the floor and get behind me and Mike, just consider that a general rule of engagement.”
“Cool,” LJ said. He could feel the smile starting to take over his face for the first time all day. Lincoln stood up and he couldn’t help but rush over to him to hug him. “Thanks, Dad.” He pulled back. “For all of it. The cake, the iPod, the gun.”
“It’s… not exactly the birthday party I was hoping for,” Lincoln said.
“Best one ever,” LJ said, but even as he said the words, he knew that his smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“So we’ve got the coke that came with the pizza here,” Sara said, “but it’s kinda warm.”
“I’ll go get some ice out of the vending machine,” LJ offered, glancing up.
“I don’t know,” Michael said, his eyebrows turning downward with concern.
“We can’t make Sara do everything,” LJ said. “Come on. Just a little fresh air. I’ll be right back.”
“Go fast,” Lincoln said.
He took the ice bucket and practically fled the room. Being in such close quarters with the man who had fathered him was starting to get downright weird. He’d only spent this much time around him on rare occasions, and even then, they were never together all the time. What did they say? Be careful what you wish for?
He opened the door to the ice machine and began to shovel the ice into the bucket. He debated whether or not to fill it to the top and then decided he might as well, just so they didn’t have to come back. Being out here alone on the balcony made him nervous.
He closed the lid of the bucket, closed the door to the machine, and turned to study the parking lot. And as he did, his eyes met the eyes of someone looking right back at him.
Someone only too familiar.
LJ didn’t even panic this time. Instead, he gripped the bucket tightly, and walked as fast as he could, down the balcony, opening the door to the room and closing it behind him, only breathing once he was inside.
“Guys,” he said, his voice steady, “he’s out there.”