Evenfall (75 page)

"Good."

Sin walked over to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter. His head was still terribly bruised but he looked more alert than he had before. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched Boyd. "You sure went out of your way to do everything possible to piss them off."

Boyd smiled slightly to himself and pulled a butter knife out of the silverware drawer that he finally found on the third try. "It seems I did, although it wasn't done to anger them." He found a plate and set it on the table. "I know my mother was angry. I suspect Connors will be even more so."

Sin stared after him contemplatively, eyes narrowing slightly. "Was your mother here?"

Boyd nodded as he opened the plastic on the loaf of bread. "Briefly." He pulled out two slices of bread and put them on the plate.

"Ah," Sin said finally, slowly. "I thought I'd heard her voice."

He looked away again, face unreadable. He walked over to the kitchen counter. Boyd finished making him a peanut butter sandwich and slid it across the counter. Sin picked it up and ate it in a few large bites. After he was finished, he grabbed the container of peanut butter, scooping it out with his fingers and eating it plain.

"Why haven't they brought me back yet?"

Without intending to, Boyd's gaze lingered on the sight of Sin's fingers disappearing into his mouth. "I don't know," he said absently, distracted by the way Sin's lips curved and the faint sheen of saliva on his fingers when they pulled out.

Realizing what he was doing, he dragged his gaze away. He decided to check the rest of Sin's cupboards to see if there was anything more substantial that he could make.

"My mother planned to help," he continued as he opened a cupboard and saw a can of soup.

"She said she would allow you to recover here. I imagine it has to clear through Connors, though."

Sin lifted himself up and sat on the counter, legs dangling over the side as he stared at Boyd and continued to spoon out peanut butter with his fingers. He swung his legs idly and his feet bumped into Boyd as he did so. Whether it was on purpose or accident Boyd didn't know, but it was such a relaxed, childlike thing to do that it made him seem nothing like a man who'd been delirious and on the verge of death just a day prior. "Why in hell would she do that?" he asked mildly. "She doesn't particularly care for me, you know."

Boyd set the can of soup on the counter, trying to ignore the light jostling of Sin's foot. It was impossible to keep from looking sidelong at Sin and being once more distracted by that damn jar of peanut butter. The casual way Sin slipped his fingers in and out of his mouth made Boyd remember their tongues clashing in France; the way Sin tasted. With it came the unbidden question of how it would feel to have Sin's lips--

Suddenly reaching out, Boyd snatched the jar away from Sin and put it out of his reach. "Stop," he said abruptly.

For a second he didn't even know if he was talking to himself or Sin. He peered at Sin and did his best not to stare at his mouth. Sin was still recovering from serious health issues. He didn't need Boyd thinking about what it would be like to taste his mouth again-- and after that, taste a whole lot more.

"That's— unsanitary," Boyd added after a second, trying to cover for the thoughts he was having. "Eat it with something that's not... Your fingers..."

"Tastes better this way," Sin replied and licked his hand clean, staring at the jar longingly for a moment. He seemed completely unaware of what was going through Boyd's mind.

Boyd shook his head to himself and grabbed the can of soup out of the cupboard. Once more he thought about how unfortunate it was to have such an attractive partner. It made it difficult to concentrate on anything else at times.

Sin watched Boyd and raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"I don't know." Boyd opened the utensil drawer looking for a can opener. "I didn't expect her to agree, let alone help. She did say it would be inconvenient if you were incapacitated indefinitely." He found an old hand-crank one half buried under a vegetable peeler, some spatulas, and a dull-looking knife. He set the can opener on the edge of the lid and started opening it. His attention was on twisting the gear and holding the turning can.

"And I suppose I did tell her that I refused to leave until you could defend yourself and to expect a fight if the issue was forced before then," he added absently after a second. "I doubt that changed her mind but it's possible the idea of another scene was irritating to her and added another reason."

Sin nodded slowly and continued to sit on the counter, his shoulders slumped as he stared into space. There was silence for several moments aside from the quiet skid of the can's edge against the counter top.

"What I don't get," Sin said at length, eyebrows drawn together, "is why you did this at all. I get that you're grateful that I killed Harry, and I'm not trying to be an asshole here, but I don't down shift this fast. You had me on ignore for awhile now, and we've barely been getting along. It seems a little odd that you're suddenly my white knight after that, unless it's residual guilt over almost getting my head blown off a few times in that mission."

Boyd looked over at Sin, studying him contemplatively. There was a pause and then he shook his head. He found a microwavable container drying in the sink and poured the soup inside. "I won't lie; the fact that the majority of this is my fault was a large factor in it. But it wasn't only that. I..."

He trailed off briefly, trying to figure out how much he wanted to say or even how to explain what rightfully so had to seem like an extreme shift of his actions. His lips thinned in a twitch and his eyebrows drew down as he shook his head. He turned around to meet Sin's eyes.

"For however it looked to you, aside from individual moments of frustration, my opinion of you never changed throughout any of this. Even if there had been a way for these circumstances to have occurred without that mission or Harry, I would have lobbied for your release if not done more. I know what it feels like to be left in terrible circumstances and I would never do that to you. You're my partner and that means something to me."

There was a long stretch of silence which passed with Boyd putting the soup in the microwave and setting it for a few minutes. Sin scratched the back of his neck somewhat awkwardly. It seemed to occur to him that he was supposed to say something because his face went through a variety of expression changes before he just said, "Ah."

Boyd watched Sin for a moment and then turned to start searching the cupboards for the bowls. "Now that I think about it, why were you in the library anyway?"

Sin had gone back to idly rubbing his forehead, eyebrows drawn together as if he was in pain. It wasn't too surprising considering the bruising. What was more shocking was that Sin was so functional in the first place.

"Oh, that. Ryan came to my apartment to inform me of some things that had occurred while I was on my solo. I wanted to speak to you about it."

"Oh." The word carried some weight. Boyd's hand paused in the act of opening a cupboard. He looked over, wondering what exactly Ryan told Sin. "Did we already talk about what you wanted to talk about?"

"I don't really remember what it was anymore. I guess I just wanted to make sure that uh," Sin paused, staring down at the counter. "I guess, that you knew I didn't actually hate you or anything. I just think you're really annoying a lot."

Boyd's lips pulled to the side in a wry smile. "Ah. Thank you. I think."

Sin sighed. He looked frustrated and shook his head, reaching out to grab Boyd's shoulder. Sin tugged him closer, meeting his eyes with a slight frown.

"I had more to say but it doesn't come out right when I try."

The curl of Sin's fingers over Boyd's shoulder surprised him. Boyd let himself be pulled over, his stomach brushing
faintly against Sin's inner knee as he breathed. He brought his hands up without thinking and nearly rested one on Sin's side before he realized what he was about to do. He placed his palms on the counter on either side of Sin's thighs instead. His lips parted but Sin's eyes were so green as they focused on him that for a second he forgot what he was going to say.

"It's alright," he said after a moment. "As long as I know you don't hate me, it's enough."

"I never--" Sin stopped and frowned, although he didn't break Boyd's gaze. He brushed his hand up and squeezed Boyd's shoulder before raising it hesitantly until he was touching Boyd's chin. "I never hated you. It's the fucking opposite. And it's really hard for me--"

He stopped again, looking frustrated. He released Boyd's chin but didn't pull his hand away; it hovered there for a moment, uncertain, and then his fingers brushed Boyd's face. They slid up his jaw hesitantly before cupping Boyd's cheek, his thumb stroking one of the bruises that was slowly fading.

The feel of it made Boyd's heart beat faster. His hand lifted to touch Sin's; staying there as if to stop Sin from pulling away. Sin's calloused fingertips, lightly brushing against his skin, contrasted against the smooth back of his hand. It put Boyd in mind of the night before, when he'd spent an undetermined amount of time gently cleaning those long fingers of blood, thinking about the vulnerability and strength contained within those hands.

It almost felt like this couldn't be real; like there was no way Sin in reality would pull him closer and say that. Boyd shifted, subconsciously bringing himself closer to Sin. His lower stomach pressed against the edge of the counter, his sides hemmed in by Sin's knees.

The sound of someone new clearing their throat was abrupt and unexpected.

Boyd jerked back, automatically pulling away as he looked over his shoulder in surprise.

Sin dropped his hand and shot an unwelcoming glare at Carhart. "What do you want?" he asked moodily.

Carhart stood by the doorway. His eyebrows were raised as slightly as he stared. "I see you are feeling well enough to be rude," he said flatly.

Boyd stepped fully away from Sin, his expression shifting to default neutral as he watched Carhart. With Sin's proximity, he'd completely forgotten about Ryan's warning.

"General," he greeted respectfully, hoping to avoid angering the man even further than he likely already had.

Sin slid off the counter, leaning against it and crossing his arms over his chest as he eyed Carhart suspiciously.

"I'd like to know what the hell you thought you were doing?" he demanded, cerulean blue eyes focused on Boyd. "And I don't want to hear about how dire Sin's situation was and how you had to do everything in your power-- save the bullshit. You brought yourself and Sin three steps closer to termination. His concussion could have goddamn waited."

"I--" Boyd started to say, but any answer he had quelled at the words. For all that he didn't regret his actions, he had to admit that it did all seem a lot more rash looking back than it had at the time. He stopped, glanced at Sin, and then shook his head. "I have no excuse, sir."

Carhart shook his head, glare switching from Boyd to Sin. "If you were anyone else, you would be dead now. Don't let that make you cocky. If you pull a stunt like this again, the Marshal won't let you off the hook a second time. You made him look like an idiot, and you're lucky it was something that was easily covered up. The general population thinks Sin was officially released."

Sin smirked at that. "The guards will know."

"And they'll know to keep their mouths shut. It isn't difficult to get rid of the lot of them and replace them with low ranking and not progressing field agents," Carhart replied coldly. "You're lucky that can't be said for the two of you. You're currently irreplaceable in your own rights. It would be a mistake to use that information and let it turn you into a liability instead of an asset."

"I understand, sir," Boyd said, subdued. He didn't know how irreplaceable he was, really, since Adam Blake could be brought in. It was continually hitting him more as time passed that he was damn lucky to be alive and free. "I'll be more mindful of my actions in the future."

"You had better."

Carhart gave them a hard look, and then turned and left without another word.

Boyd looked at Sin after Carhart had left. Before he could say anything, the humming of the microwave ended with a ding. He pulled some bowls out of the cupboard and opened the microwave door. "That went... well," he commented.

"Yeah, his bitching was down to a minimum."

Boyd nodded and gingerly pulled out the hot container by holding it on the very edges. "Sin," he said with a drawn expression, keeping his eyes on the soup so it wouldn't slop over the side. Although that was partially an excuse so he didn't have to see Sin's face when he asked his next question. "You're not-- angry with me for all this, are you? I know it may be a stupid thing to ask but if my actions did make it worse for you than just leaving you alone..."

"What? No," Sin replied quickly, his voice sounding surprised. "I appreciate what you did for me. No one's ever tried to help me before."

Setting the bowl carefully on the counter, Boyd looked over and studied Sin. When he saw nothing but truth written on his face, Boyd felt some of the tension relax within him that he hadn't fully realized was there. He ran a hand back through his hair.

"Good," he said with relief, and dropped his hand at his side. "If you'd been angry with me over this too, I would have felt like I may have done the wrong thing."