Date: Thu, 3 Nov 2005 20:02:59 -0800
From: Donald Gollihue <dromin@gmail.com>
Subject: Drew and Jason (part 3)

	After they cleaned up, Jason drove Drew back to his car.  As he got
out, Drew paused at the Jeep's window.  He looked at Jason for a moment,
obviously thinking.
	"What?"  Jason asked.
	Drew seemed to decide something and took a small notebook out of
his back pocket and scribbled his number on the paper.  He tore the page
free, folded it, and leaned toward Jason.  He slid the folded paper into
the pocket of Jason's flannel shirt.
	"Here."  He patted the pocket, then withdrew from the Jeep.  "I'll
see you around."
	Drew turned and walked to a green Saturn, got in, and watched as
Jason drove away.  He slowly let his head drop and rest against the
steering wheel.  A war of emotion roiled within him.  He felt thrilled with
meeting Jason, aghast at his conduct and lack of control when around him,
and utterly confused about his sexuality.
	He inhaled a deep breath in the attempt to clear his mind.  After a
while, he raised his head and started the car.
	"Something's got to give here."  He mumbled.  He put the Saturn in
drive but still sat with his foot on the brake and stared blankly at the
exit leading to the road.  Not able to find any easy answers to the issues
confounding him, he finally crept out of the parking lot.
	He drove to Bangor Submarine Base and flashed his ID at the man
guarding the gate to the installation.  He was waved through and he drove
to a small building that housed some administrative offices.
	Drew parked in the near-empty lot, got out, and slid his door key
through a magnetic reader attached to the heavy metal door on the side of
the building.  The door clicked, Drew opened it and entered a hallway.  At
the end, he entered an unlabeled door and shut it securely behind him.
	"Hey Maloy."  A man sitting at a desk said to Drew after he shut
the door.  Drew expected to see his office-mate.
	"Hey Riley."  He sat down at the other desk in the room.  "How's
your case going?"
	Riley made a face, and his tanned skin wrinkled up in a frown.
"Wrapping things up with it.  Paperwork's taking forever."
	Drew grunted.  "Always does."  He put his elbows on his desk and
propped his chin with his hands.  He let the smallest of sighs escape him
as he did.  Riley noticed.
	"Everything all right?"  Riley had moved into the office about a
year ago, and Drew liked the man.  He was driven, did good work, and was
extremely perceptive.  He was also one of the few agents who knew what Drew
really did for a living.  All the rest thought Drew was a simple data
jockey.
	"Just sort of a slow weekend for work."  The lie came easily.
Drew's job demanded that he be good at spinning fiction.  Drew tried to
give Riley a genuine looking smile.  "Guess I'm not pretty enough anymore."
	"Oh Maloy.  You're as pretty as you always were."  Rile went along
with the banter, but he didn't look convinced that Drew was telling him
everything.  He let the matter drop.  They all had their own lives, and
Riley respected the privacy of his co-workers.
	"Hey, here's something right up your alley."  Riley threw a folder
so it slid across Drew's desk.  "Looks like Silverdale has a group of fag
bashers running around."  He pushed his chair over to Drew's desk as Drew
opened the folder.  "Take a look."
	Drew glanced at the pictures and the accompanying description of
the investigations so far.  There were three different sets, each with a
different guy.
	"My god."  Drew stared at each picture in turn.  The men had all
been struck on the head with something heavy, then beaten badly.  Broken
limbs and ribs were listed among the injuries, along with concussions and
even one with partial amnesia.  He read the notes attached and felt himself
get a bit dizzy.  Each man that was attacked was questioned by NCIS, and a
few details about the attackers were gained, but not many.  Additionally,
all three men admitted being homosexual.  In their disoriented states, the
admissions were easily gained, and no nasty complications, like lawyers,
were called upon by the dazed men in their defense.
	Drew closed his eyes against the revulsion he felt in his soul.  He
regained his composure and cleared his throat.  "When?  When did these
happen?"
	"All last night."  Riley put the cases in sequential order for
Drew.  "They get successively more brutal as they go.  The third guy had a
concussion and partial amnesia."  He looked at Drew's face.  "I'm kind of
worried here, Maloy.  These attacks were thought out, and they caught the
men on the way to their cars, and in one case, they followed a guy home and
jumped him when he got out."  He looked seriously at Drew.  "This could
happen to you."
	"I'm not gay."  Drew said, a little too quickly.
	Riley blinked.  "I ... I didn't say you were.  But any man that
leaves a bar with a different guy every week will LOOK gay."
	Drew thought about what the man was saying.  Finally, he nodded.
"Yeah.  I see what you mean Riley."  He forced a grin and closed the
folder.  "Don't stress.  I'll be fine.  Just gotta be careful."
	"See that you are."  Riled wheeled himself back to his own neat
desk.  "We can't afford to lose you.  I sure as hell don't want to get
stuck doing your job!"
	Drew chuckled, but only for Riley's benefit.  He didn't realize how
many times a day he heard (and told) gay jokes.  Now he was all too aware
of their frequency.
	Drew began the daily task of paperwork, and filing reports to
superiors.  It didn't take long as there was nothing to report for last
night.  He finished with his computer and papers in only about an hour,
then stood and grabbed the folder.
	"See you Riley.  I've got to get ready for tonight."
	"See ya."  Riley looked at a calendar.  "Oh, Saturday night.
You're bound to catch somebody tonight."  Riley grinned.  "You're the only
guy to turn in at least one queer a week that works for NCIS.  You'll get
somebody."
	That used to be a compliment.  Drew swallowed after Riley said it.
"Yeah.  Thanks for the pep-talk Riley.  See you later."  He turned and left
the room, holding the folder tightly.  His face was pale and his knuckles
were white as his free hand balled itself into a fist.  Drew felt two of
his fingers pop from the pressure and he forced himself to relax.  He
exited the building and got into his car.
	'God, I'm working for the devil.'  Drew thought.  His stomach gave
a sickening lurch and Drew scrambled to open his door.  He threw up on the
pavement of the parking lot, as the stress of his situation really began to
sink in.
	About fifteen minutes later, Drew pulled into the driveway of his
rental home.  He got out, one hand on his stomach and the other holding the
folder.  As he opened the door he heard the phone ringing.  He walked to it
and answered.
	"Hello?"
	"Drew?  Hey, this is Jason."  Even through the phone Jason's voice
was a turn on to Drew.
	"Hey Jason.  What's going on?"
	"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight for a
movie or something?"  The sailor's voice was hopeful, and Drew found
himself wanting to say something that would make him happy.
	"I ... I'm busy for a while this evening, how about a late movie?
Is 2300 too late?"
	"Nope.  That's fine."  Jason got quiet for a moment.  "Are you
going out tonight?"
	'Shit.' Drew thought.  His mind whirled in the attempt to come up
with something that'd both keep Jason away from the bar, and sound
believable.  "Sort of."  He said.  "I'm meeting some people from work at
the bar."  He paused.  "I don't want to have you there, you're a bit
distracting."
	Jason laughed.  "All right.  Where do you work?"
	This was a lie Drew had told over and over again to marks, and it
flowed from him instantly.  "I work in administration on Bangor.  Not very
glamorous work, but it pays nice."  A pang of guilt speared through his
chest as he said it.
	"Oh, all right."  Jason sounded convinced.  "Well, I guess I'll see
you tonight then."
	"Ok.  Bye Jason."
	"Bye Drew."
	Drew hung up the phone and stood there a moment, thinking.  'This
is going to get out of my control way too quickly.'  He walked to the
living room and sat down on his couch.  'Why did I give him my number?'
Drew tried to convince himself that what he was feeling for Jason was
temporary.  But it out-shone all other attachment he had ever felt.  In
less than 24 hours he felt more for Jason than for any woman he'd ever
dated.  And he was so very attracted to the sailor.
	"Maybe it'll pass ..."  Drew said softly to himself.  "I can't keep
feeling this way.  This has to pass."
	Drew shook his head and forced himself to think about tonight.  He
was trying to come up with a plan to turn in the fewest men possible and
still keep his job.  He already knew that the average number of gay men
turned in by the guys doing his work was about 2 a month, while his own
average was 5 a month.  If his numbers suddenly dropped, he'd be
scrutinized by his superiors.  He couldn't afford that, especially now.
	He bit his lip and his stomach churned angrily.  "God I can't do
this."  He stood and paced.  "I can't keep doing this.  I feel like the bad
guy here."  He thought about quitting his job, and his mind instantly
tallied up his bills and how much money he had in savings.  It wasn't
enough to get by on for longer than a couple of months if he wasn't earning
anything.
	He decided to go one more month and save absolutely everything he
could.  Then, he was out.  He sat back down on the couch and thought about
his rather quick decision.  He began to realize this course of action was
actually less stressful and felt more right than staying with NCIS.
	"Ok."  He said to himself.  "It's a plan.  It's a crazy plan, but
it's a plan."  He took in a deep breath and mentally prepared himself for
tonight's work.  "Let's get this over with."