Date: Mon, 20 Feb 2012 07:36:15 +0100
From: Micheal Mikey <michealwitluv@gmail.com>
Subject: The Game He Lost 5

The Team
     Abe didn't know how he got through the next day. For a while he had
been tempted to play out his excuse of the stomach flu to his principal and
spend the day in bed with the covers drawn over his head.
     But hiding wouldn't do any good. Neither would denial. As much as he
would like to, he couldn't pretend that the events of yesterday hadn't
occurred. He was as jumpy as a cat in a strange house, startling at every
noise or unexpected movement.
     It was a good thing that his students were still tired out from the
field trip and didn't demand his full attention, because he went through
his classes in low gear. Several of his friends on the school staff noticed
that something was wrong, but he deflected their curiosity by alluding to
his birthday, hoping they would assume he had celebrated too heartily.
     The message light on his answering machine was blinking furiously when
he arrived home. He dashed across the room, hoping it was good news about
the kidnapped child, but none of the messages were from Finn. His mother
had called twice, offering to bring over ginger ale and rice water, his two
surefire remedies for the stomach upsets of Abe's childhood. Both Martha
and Ellie had called, too, wishing him a belated happy birthday and speedy
recovery. None of them had seemed worried that he hadn't answered -- they
had assumed he had been resting and hadn't wanted to get up.
     Abe slumped down in the chair and covered his eyes. This lying
business was far too easy to continue once got started. If he didn't watch
out, he would get as good as at it as Finn.
     If you had a wish, what would you have wanted for your birthdays?
     Finn's question teased through his mind. He knew exactly what he
wanted. Children, a home, a nice stable husband.  He certainly hadn't
wanted that... kiss.
     He rubbed his face. Now he was even lying to himself.
     Of course, he wanted that kiss. It was the natural reaction of man,
and his emotions had been stirred up because of the excitement of the
evening. It was the natural reaction of a healthy thirty-year-old man. It
was the same as wanting a double-chocolate-fudge sundae. Neither one was
going for him, and he would regret both in the long run, but they tasted so
good...
     And Finn had. Oh, Lord, he'd tasted even better than he could have
imagined. His lips had been warm and firm and had molded to his as easily
as if they had been lovers for years. Finn hadn't touched him with anything
more than his fingertip and his mouth, but he'd made him feel as if his
entire being was focused on that kiss, as if he saw only his needs, wanted
only his pleasure and then...
     And then Finn had left.
     Right. Abe knew all about the way men like that left. He had been
through this before, eight years ago. Stuart had been there for the good
times -- their lovemaking had burned up the sheets. He had believed it
was love; he had thought it was the real thing, but it had all been a
lie. He had been so dazzled by Stuart's looks and his passion. He had given
Stuart his heart along with his body. He had listened to his instincts
instead of his brain and hadn't seen beyond his own desire.
     But he had learned from the past. Sexual attraction was no basics for
a lasting relationship, and he wouldn't make the same mistake again. No
matter how sweetly Finn kissed.
     Everything that had redeemed Finn in his eyes -- his fondness for
children, his closeness with his family, and his interest in history --
all of it had been as phony as that story about the power failure. He had
an Army intelligence specialist feeding him lines, so he had been able to
say exactly what Abe had wanted to hear. The only fact that remained true
was his dedication to his job.
     And what a job. A Nighthawk commando was about as far as from the
ideal of his nice, stable ordinary man as one could get. Finn would do
anything in the line of duty, even if it meant kissing a man into silence.
     Well, it had worked. Abe had been too shaken to say a word when Finn
had walked out the door. And he had been too wrapped up in reliving that
kiss for the rest of the night to have time to have nightmares about
foreign kidnappers, mysterious ransoms and a child held captive.
     And now, it was over, he assured himself, pushing out of the chair. He
was wearing his watch and was back in his everyday life once more. He
needed his schedules and the order of his days. He hated surprises, and
yesterday served as a good reminder of why.
     The phone rang. Abe paused, debating whether or not to let the machine
pick it up as Finn had advised him. No; he was going to get his life back
to normal, he decided. Ghost had thought it was safe enough for him to come
home, so he was going to put this...episode behind him. Returning to the
phone he snatched up the receiver.
     "Mister Locke? It's Paul Hedgeworth. Bradley's father."
     Abe paused. "Oh, hello, Mr. Hedgeworth."
     "I'm sorry to disturb you at home, Mister Locke. I tried to catch you
after school but you had already left. I hope I'm not intruding."
     Abe grimaced to himself. Normally, he remained in the classroom to
prepare for the next day, but he had he had cut out earlier than usual
today. He had just wanted to come home. Run home, to be more accurate. "No,
not at all, Mr. Hedgeworth. What can I do for you? Bradley's all right,
isn't he?"
     "Yes, he's fine. Actually, that's what I wanted to talk about. He had
a great time on the trip to the museum yesterday. He hasn't stopped
chattering about it."
     "I'm glad. I had hoped to get the children interested in our history."
     "And you succeeded. You have done wonders for Bradley. We are planning
to join a walking tour of historic sites this weekend. I wanted to express
my thanks."
     "No thanks are necessary, Mr. Hedgeworth. I enjoy my job."
     "You are an exceptional teacher."
     "Thank you."
     "Would you be free for dinner tomorrow?"
     That threw Abe. He must have misunderstood. "Excuse me?"
     There was an awkward silence. "Sorry, that was kind of sudden,"
Bradley's father said. "It's been a long time since I had dated, so I guess
I'm out of practice."
     Abe knew that Bradley's parents were recently divorced. They shared
joint custody of their child, so he had met both Paul and Beth Hedgeworth
when it had been their turn to pick up Bradley from school. They were both
likeable people, but Abe had never regarded Paul as a potential date. He
didn't even know that Paul played for his team too.
     Actually, he hadn't thought much about Paul at all. Unlike his lively
son, Paul was on the quiet side. He dressed in tasteful suits and wore
shoes that always appeared freshly polished. Abe couldn't picture the color
of his hair or his eyes, but Paul's features were...nice. Not handsome or
memorable, just nice. Like vanilla custard made with skimmed milk.
     He realized he had been silent too long. The problem was, he didn't
know what to say. "Mr. Hedgeworth..."
    "Please, call me Paul."
     "Alright. Paul."
     "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Abe. I'd like to get to know
you better, and I thought a quiet dinner with us would be a good way to
start."
     "With us?"
     "Yes, Bradley will be with me for the entire weekend. He would be
thrilled if you agreed."
    Abe was fond of Bradley, just as he was fond of all of his
students. Still... "I'm really sorry, Paul," he said. "I...I have been
fighting off a flu bug. I had planned to spend the weekend resting, so I
wouldn't be good company."
     It was a cowardly way to turn down Paul's invitation, but he didn't
want to rule out the possibility of accepting the invitation in the
future. He needed more time to think about it, that's all.
     Yet, what was there to think about? Paul had a home in the suburbs. He
already had a child. He was a nice, stable, responsible man. Wasn't thus
what he wanted?
     And would he have needed time to think about it if he had asked him
yesterday, before he had met Finn?  ~~~~~~~~~~
     Abe dreamed about double fudge sundaes that night. They were arrayed
on a table in front of him, the chocolate dark and decadent, glistering
with heat where it had oozed over rich mounds of melting ice cream. The
scent was bittersweet, a contradiction of hard and soft, hot and cold,
drawing him closer with the promise of sensual delight.
     But there was a maze of tall, thick candlesticks between him and the
table, and clouds of moths were singing their wings as they fluttered
around the flames.
     He moistened his lips, stirring restlessly on the bed. Oh, it had been
a long time since he had indulged in fudge.
     He felt someone touch his hand. He knew who it was. It was the man he
had been waiting for. He was the one who had lit the candles, so he would
show him how to get past them without getting burned.
     Abe.
     Abe stretched his arms over his head and rolled onto his back. He
couldn't see him, but he sensed his presence, his scent, his warmth, the
tingle of awareness that he felt whenever he was near. He made a low noise
in his throat. He was hungry. It really had been a long time.
     Abe, wake up.
     He felt the dream receding, but he didn't want it to end yet. He
reached for his pillow and pulled it to his chest. It was oddly heavy. It
smelled like an April sunrise. Like Finn.
     Abe smiled and rubbed against him. His nipples tightened at the
contact, hardening into firm points. His palms skimmed over wide shoulders
and trailed down muscles as solid as brick. He curled his fingers around
Finn's arms. Through the fabric of his sleeves he could feel Finn's
tension. Could Finn feel his? Flattening his hands over Finn's back and
pulled him closer, his hardness pushing into Finn's crotch.
     "Abe, please."
     Something was wrong. This dream was becoming too real. Abe fought the
lethargy that tugged at him, and strained to open his eyes.
     A palm settled over his mouth.
     He came awake with his heart pounding. He drew in his breath and
tasted a mixture of soap and masculine skin. Someone was lying on top of
him, crushing him into the mattress. It wasn't a pillow that he was
holding, it was a man.
     Before he could panic, he heard a familiar voice. "Abe. It's me,
Finn." His breath wafted over Abe's cheek as he put his lips close to Abe's
ear. "Wake up."
     Abe wrenched his head to the side and gulped for air. "Finn! What are
you doing here?"
     His pillow dipped as Finn braced his hand beside his head.  The weight
on his chest eased. "I need to talk to you."
     Abe's arms were still wrapped around Finn's back. He released his hold
and Finn sat up to reach for the lamp on his bedside table.
     The room flooded with light, yet Finn still appeared to be in
shadow. He was dressed all in black. Black jeans, a black windbreaker, even
a dark shadow of unshaved beard stubble on his jaw. Against the backdrop of
Abe's blue wallpaper and the frame that held his grandmother's embroidery,
Finn appeared large, male and dangerous.
     And sexier than any man had a right to be. The last time Finn had seen
him, he had kissed him. Even in his sleep, Abe had reached out for him --
he could still feel the imprint of Finn's chest on his chest.
     Finn looked at him as he stroked a lock of hair from his face, his
fingertips grazing Abe's cheeks. His voice was a low rumble. "What were you
dreaming about, Abe?"
     An image flickered through Abe's mind. Sensual chocolate, thick, erect
candlesticks, flames of passion... He wouldn't need to be Dr. Freud to
interpret that erotic symbolism.
     Finn toyed with one of the curls of his hair, coiling it around his
finger. "Were you dreaming about me?"
     For a mad instant, Abe started to lean into Finn's caress. Did it
really matter whether Finn was right the right man or not? He was here, and
Abe wanted to follow his touch and pull him back into his arms. Oh, it was
so tempting...
     He clutched the sheet to draw it to his chin. It was a prudish gesture
-- the oversized pink shirt he slept in covered him from his neck to his
knees -- yet he felt exposed. Not just his body, but his thoughts...and
the dreams he didn't even want to admit to himself.
     Damn the man, he had thought this was over. "How did you get in here?"
he asked, refusing to answer Finn's question.
     "I picked the lock."
     "Finn, you got the wrong idea. Just because I let you kiss me
yesterday doesn't mean you have the right to show up in my bedroom like
this."
     "I know. That's not why I'm here."
     "No?"
     Finn paused. Abe's hair slipped from his grasp. "No," he repeated. How
could Abe have been thinking that Finn had come back because of that kiss?
Finn was a soldier. That was why he was here. That's why he had barged into
his bedroom in the first place. Abe pushed himself up on his elbows. "Is
this about the kidnapped child?" he asked. "Is he..."
     "He's alive," Finn said. "The kidnappers want to arrange another
ransom drop."
     Abe rolled to the other side of the bed and picked up his robe from
the floor. He drew it on as he got to his feet, doing his best to tie the
belt securely despite his shaking fingers. "That's good news, isn't it?"
     "Depends on how you look at it."
     "I don't understand."
     "Last time they wanted the boy's father to deliver the money. This
time they want someone else."
     "Well, as long as the child is released unharmed..."
     "It's not that simple."
     "What do you mean?"
     Finn stood up and raked his hands through his hair. "The boy's father
told them that a schoolteacher had accidentally picked up the ransom at the
museum."
     "Yes, I know. Sandra said that's why those men were able to find me."
     "They thought he had double-crossed them. They say the only way he can
prove his good faith now is to have the schoolteacher who picked up the
ransom the first time deliver it the second time."
     Abe was sorry now that he had stood up. His knees felt too weak to
hold him. He staggered sideways and flung out his hand, clutching his
closet to retain his balance.
     "Are you saying that they want me to do it?"
     Finn moved around the bed and caught Abe's shoulders. "There is an
alternative. One of our agents can do this in your place. We can find a
black guy and maybe do something with his skin to make him look more like
you. With a wing and a few alterations, maybe he can fool them."
     Finn's touch was firm, meant for support, not caress. Abe felt his
strength and it steadied him. "Is that what Ghost thinks?"
     "What matters is what you think, Abe."
     Finn had avoided his question, he realized. "The commander doesn't
think you can find someone that would fool them, does he? Otherwise, he
wouldn't have sent you here."
     "You're right. I'm here because I was ordered to ask for your
assistance, but it should be our risk, not your risk. This is what we are
trained for."
     "What about the child? What will happen to him if the kidnappers find
out they were deceived?"
     "We'll continue our efforts to locate him. When we do, we will rescue
him."
     Abe studied Finn's face, trying to read the truth. "He'll be killed,"
he stated. "That's what will happen, isn't it?"
     A muscle in Finn's jaw twitched. His grip on Abe's shoulder
tightened. "The people we are dealing with are fanatical. Even if you
follow their instructions to the letter, there is no guarantee that they
won't kill their hostage anyway."
     For one cowardly moment, Abe longed to crawl back to bed and pretend
he was still dreaming. This was supposed to be over. His involvement was a
fluke. If only he could wake up and somehow be back in his old life...
     "How old..." he had to swallow hard before he continued. "How old is
this child? I asked before, but no one would give me any details because of
security. Can you tell me now?"
     "Seven."
     That was the same age as Bradley Hedgeworth; the same age as most of
the children in his class. He thought of how excited they had been on their
trip yesterday and how noisy they had been on the ride back. They had
tumbled off the bus when it had reached the school, and they had run to
their parents' arms. They had been bubbling over with enthusiasm and the
innocence of childhood.
     "I'll do it," he said.
     Finn studied his face. "Are you sure? Because if we bring you into
this operation, there is no going back. You are going to be given
classified information that you will never be able to reveal to another
soul."
     "All right."
     "And until the mission is over, we are going to need you with us
hundred percent. You will become part of the team and have to be available
to move at a moment's notice. That means you need to stay with us."
      Stay with those soldiers? With Finn? The flash of eagerness he felt
at the thought jarred him. This wasn't about him, it was about the
child. "Fine," he said. "I'll do whatever is necessary."
     "You are going to have to make up excuses to explain your absence to
your family. If the mission extends past the weekend, you'll have to make
up an excuse for your principal, too."
     "Are you trying to scare me out of this?"
     Finn dropped his hands from Abe's shoulders. He stepped back, his
eyebrows angling upwards. He appeared surprised by Abe's question. "I
shouldn't. It's my duty to bring you in. I just want you to know what you
are getting into."
     "All I care about is helping the child."
     "You don't even know him."
     "I don't have to. I love children, Finn. That's why I'm a teacher. It
makes no difference who the child is. All of them are precious."
     "He's the nephew of the president of Nigeria."
     "The president..." he paused. "Nigeria?"
     "It's a country in West Africa."
     "Yes, yes. I know where it is. It was in the news last week because of
that terrorist bombing outside the president's palace -- the Aso Rock..."
The memory of a black-white photo sprang to his mind: pieces of glass and
rubble strewn across an asphalt street, people with dust on their faces and
blood on their clothes. The image was far too common these days. He crossed
his arms, suddenly chilled. "Those kidnappers, are they connected to the
terrorists?"
     "Yes. It's the same group. They want to overthrow the government and
seize control. They say they are being cheated of their wealth, amongst
numerous other things. Do you still want to go through with this?"
     No! The logical, reasonable part of his brain screamed at him to
refuse. A child connected to an African political power? Terrorists? This
had to be why the Nighthawks was involved and why everything had been so
secret. The kidnapping would have political repercussions. This was
completely beyond the realm of his experience.
     And yet...the kidnap victim was still just a child, with a child's
hopes and fears. This was completely beyond his experience too.
     Abe concentrated on that as he shut out the voice of reason. For once,
he was going to listen to his instincts. Gathering his courage, he looked
at Finn in the eyes and nodded. "When we do we start?"  ~~~~~~~~~~
     Finn leaned his elbow on the side of the refrigerator and stretched
out his legs, trying to find a more comfortable position on the metal
chair, but it was no use. He glanced toward the darkened area at the rear
of the tent where the men who were off duty were snoring on the cots. At
this point, even a blanket on the floor would be good for him, but he
wouldn't allow himself to rest until Abe was settled in.
     Finn returned his gaze to the group in the middle of the tent. Ghost
was holding his briefing near one of the central support poles beside the
communication equipment. He and Sandra had already given Abe the background
information on the mission. Esposito was currently bringing him up to date
on the state of the negotiation between the Nigerian government and the
American government. It was a lot for Abe to take in at once. Abe absorbed
it all with an air of determined concentration...interspersed with flashes
of panic.
     If anyone else noticed the panic, they were ignoring it. Finn
couldn't. Each time Abe chewed his lip, or his gaze darted around; each
time Abe tightened his clasped hands until his knuckles bulged, he felt an
odd pang in his chest. Some of it was pity, some was admiration. He wasn't
sure about the rest.
     Finn didn't make a habit of analyzing his emotions. When it came to
dealings relationships, he tried to keep it as simple as possible. He
should be keeping things simple with Abe, too.
     For someone who had been awakened in the middle of the night and
whisked off in secret to a military briefing, Abe was holding up well. He
appeared to have understood the urgency of the situation and hadn't fussed
with his appearance, throwing on a sweater and a pair of pants. Yet, the
effect was more striking than hours of grooming by some of the
high-maintenance men he had known. Under the glare of the overhead bulb,
Abe looked fresh scrubbed and innocent...and far too appealing.
     Abe didn't belong here, anymore than he belonged in Abe's world. Abe
was from the realm of family dinners and snapshots of kids, not Army-issue
décor and international crises. He was the only person here who wasn't a
trained soldier, so he had a different way of looking at the facts he was
told. It showed in the questions he asked.
     The first thing he had asked Ghost was the name of the kidnapped
child. It was Matthew -- Matteo, his fond name by his parents. Until now,
Finn had only thought of him as the Ibru kid, or as the target they had to
free. That was the best way to approach a mission. He had to maintain his
objectivity. Getting emotionally involved was murder of a man's
concentration.
     So was getting pulled into bed by a warm, sleep softened man. He was
getting too damned familiar with the way Abe felt when he wasn't wearing
underwear.
     Finn's chair creaked as he shifted his legs again. His discomfort
wasn't due to fatigue this time; it was due to the snug fit of his
jeans. There was nothing complicated about that aspect of his feelings for
Abe. It was simple, basic, sexual attraction. He kept telling himself to
ignore it, but he wasn't having much success.
     He still couldn't forget that kiss yesterday, so it hadn't been smart
to let Abe pull him on top of him tonight...but he hadn't tried to avoid
it. The sight of Abe in bed, his body caught in the slow motion movements
of a dream, had hit him almost as powerfully as one of Abe's smiles.
     And that was the problem. Abe might be a wholesome schoolteacher and a
serious nester, but there was passion in his kiss and passion in his
dreams, and Finn felt a hunter's urge to pursue it. So he had sat beside
Abe on the mattress, closer than he had needed to be, and hadn't awakened
him as quickly as he could have.
     Yeah, well, he had still managed to do his duty, so the rest of it
didn't matter. Abe had agreed to join them, hadn't he? His usefulness to
the mission was the priority, and not his effect on his libido.
     It had taken Abe only a few minutes to haul a bag out of his closet
and pack what he would need. He had taken almost as long to tend to the
plants. That had been the only bad moment -- Abe had been hesitant about
leaving them without having someone come in to check on them. They were
plants. Lucky for Finn, Abe didn't have pets and children.
     I love children, Finn. That's why I am a teacher.
     Finn deliberately replayed Abe's words in his head. Oddly enough, it
did nothing to ease the tightness in his jeans. He scowled and thought
about a cold shower.
     "Did you have any trouble?"
     At the low voice Finn looked over his shoulder. "No problem," he
replied quietly.
     Rafe -- Wildman -- pulled up a chair, turned it around and
straddled the seat as he sat down. He folded his arms over the back,
nodding toward the group near Abe. "Good thing he agreed to help," he said,
keeping his tone low enough not to carry. "I'm not sure we would have found
someone with his skin color and body type who could fool Boko Haram for
long. He's skin color is...rare, and his body type is...short."
     "Abe's not that short," Finn said. "And there's nothing wrong with his
skin color."
     Rafe shot him a look. "That's not what I meant and you know it."
     Finn realized his mistake immediately. Rafe hadn't been assessing
Abe's body; he had been referring to the next ransom exchange. Rafe
wouldn't be looking at another man like that anyway -- he was straight,
maybe not as an arrow, but still straight. And engaged.
    That's what commitment did to a man. It tied him down and snipped off
his freedom.
     Then again, Rafe didn't look as if any parts of him were
missing. Lately, he had been almost cheerful. He had begun to develop a
dimple among the scars on his bad side.
     Finn put on a yawn and decided to change the subject. "Man, I am
beat. This waiting around is starting to get to me."
     "Looks like that's not all that got to you." The good side of Rafe's
mouth twitched upward. "How come you are still awake? You are not on this
watch."
     "I brought Abe into the mission. He's my responsibility."
     Rafe grunted. "That sounds familiar. Isn't that what I said about
Glenna?"
     It was, Finn realized. Glenna Hastings -- a famous singer and Rafe's
fiancée -- had helped the team plan a mission a year ago to capture drug
lord Falcone. Finn had done his best to counsel his buddy on the risks of
getting serious, but nothing -- not even a vengeful drug lord -- had
been able to keep Rafe and Glenna apart.
     "Don't even think about it," Finn muttered. "This is entirely
different."
     "You're right." Rafe propped his chin in his folded arms and studied
Abe. "If he is a schoolteacher, he is too smart for you."
     Chair legs gritted across the cement floor. Finn looked past Rafe and
saw Jack pulling up a seat beside them. "What are you doing here?" he
asked.
     Jack winked. "Same thing as you and Rafe. I wanted to get a look at
our new recruit."
     Finn didn't find Jack's interest in Abe amusing. Normally, he enjoyed
talking about things like this. He liked flirting with men and had no
problem when his team members did the same. But not with Abe. He wanted to
protect Abe, shelter him, and keep him safe and innocent as he was
before. And he didn't want anyone else to discover the passion Abe kept
behind those private smiles. "Damn, I just talked him into joining us. You
two scarecrows are liable to frighten him away."
     Jack chuckled. "Do I need to point out that you were the one he was
running from?"
     "The man has taste," Rafe said. "I think Glenna would like him."
     "With any luck, Abe won't be staying around long enough to meet her,"
Finn said. "Boko Haram could set up the drop tomorrow."
     Rafe's expression sobered immediately. "Any word on that yet?"
     "Not yet," Finn tipped his chin toward Esposito. "The chief said the
Ibru phone line has been silent all night."
     "This doesn't feel right," Jack said. Like Rafe, he had become all
business the moment the subject had turned to the mission. "What's Boko
Haram waiting for? The longer they delay, the better the chance we'll learn
where they are."
     "Makes you wonder whether it is all about the money." Rafe said.
     "Esposito thinks they are doing this to harass the Nigerian
government." Finn paused. "What's the latest on those three men we are
sitting on?"
     "That MEND cell hasn't moved from their rooming house since they were
followed from Locke's apartment," Jack replied. "They would know their
security could be compromised, so it's unlikely they will be used again."
     "We could bring them in for interrogation if things go sour," Rafe
said. "They would be a link to the organization."
     "Yeah, but Boko Haram cells operate on a need-to-know basis. Those men
might have no idea where the kid is stashed." Jack returned his gaze to
Abe. "I hope he's got the guts to go through with it."
     Finn's chest tightened when he noticed that Abe's knuckles were tight
again. The adrenaline that had been pumping through his system since he had
awakened would be wearing off by now. He was going to crash soon. He hoped
Ghost was perceptive enough to realize that.
     Apparently, he was, since the briefing concluded a few minutes
later. Ghost and Esposito headed for the equipment storage area. Finn was
out of his chair and striding to Abe's side before he had the chance to
stand. He cupped his elbow to help him to his feet. "Are you okay?" he
asked.
     He nodded. "I think so."
     "Abe's going to be bunking in the office with me, Braveheart," Sandra
said, waving toward the partitioned-off area at the back of the tent. "So
if something comes up, you'll know where to find us."
     Finn let go of Abe's elbow and picked up his bag. "I'll give you a
hand getting set up."
     "I've got it covered, Finn," Sandra said, taking the duffel bag from
Finn's grasp. "Why don't you get some rest? Your watch starts in two
hours."
     "Yeah, Finn," Jack drawled. "You know how you need your beauty sleep."
     Finn realized that Jack and Rafe had approached while he had been
talking. He moved closer to Abe, unconsciously angling himself protectively
between Abe and his friends.
     Jack was undeterred. He stepped to the side and held out his
hand. "Hello, Mr. Locke. I've been wanting to compliment you on your
handiwork."
    Abe looked puzzle. "I'm not sure I understand."
     Jack cocked his thumb towards the spot where he had bandaged Finn's
arm. "I'm Jack Norton, the team's medic. You are a dead shot with a
screwdriver."
     Abe was obviously embarrassed. "Oh, no."
     Jack grinned. "I've always admired a man good with tools."
     "Take a pill, Jack." Finn muttered.
     Rafe nudged Jack aside, then stepped forward as Jack regained his
balance -- even a gentle nudge from Rafe could flatten a man who was
unprepared for it. "I'm glad you agreed to work with us, Mr. Locke," he
said. "I'm Master Sergeant Rafe Marek."
     Abe hesitated a beat before he took Rafe's hand and returned his
greeting, "Would Rafe be short for Rafal?"
     "Yes, it is."
     "I thought so. Your family must be Polish."
     "That's right," Rafe replied. "My grandfather was born in Krakow."
     Abe smiled. "One of my brothers in law is from the Krakow region. His
coloring is identical to yours."
     Finn regarded Abe more closely, but his smile appeared to be
genuine. The men of the Nighthawks were accustomed to Rafe's disfiguring
scars, but not many strangers could look him full in the face without
flinching. The flesh on his right cheek was a network of white ridges and
gullies from his eye socket to his jaw. Although his pale-blond hair and
piercing eyes were remarkable, that wasn't what most people noticed first.
     Yet Abe seemed unimpressed by appearances. Finn was fully aware that
most women and gay men considered his own features to be attractive. It
wasn't vanity -- he couldn't take credit for something that was merely an
accident of genetics -- but most of the time Abe didn't seem to want to
look at him. Why was that? Was that part of Abe's appeal to him, because he
was a challenge?
     Still, Abe wasn't indifferent to him. He hadn't minded kissing him or
pulling him into bed with him...
     But Abe was part of the team now. If he kissed him again, he'd better
be damned certain he knew what he was doing because next time there would
be nowhere to run.
     For either of them.