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Author: Breeze Email: cougar_eye88@hotmail.com Rating: PG 13 Disclaimer: I don’t own them…Damn. Notes: There is some bad language and some torture, but not much. A big thanks to Beth (Loganlover) for Beta-reading this, and Lori for posting it.
Bad Blood Between Us The day was perfect. The sun shone, the breeze was light, and the birds sang their happy little tunes. Best of all: no job. It was Saturday, the time to just kick back and relax, enjoy life, ignore all the important stuff. It could all wait until Monday. Darien Fawkes sat on the park’s grassy hill, under the shade of a large oak tree, and watched the people passing by, performing their various activities. "It’s a small world." Who knows where that particular saying was created, all he knew was that, at the moment it just seemed like a load of crap. Here he sat, watching hundreds of people jogging, walking, biking, playing Frisbee…and he had no clue who any of them were. Each person had a totally unique life, they were different from everyone else. It was impossible to try and imagine what each of them were like, what they did, who they might know. It made the world seem impossibly large, and he was only in one park. He shifted on his elbows for a better position, and looked over at the creek, winding its way around its chosen path. It disappeared into a thick underbrush, the trees and bushes swallowing it, hiding it from the casual eye. He stared at it a moment and then glanced around again, his eyes catching another mans from across the biking trail. The man glanced away, quickly, too quickly, which in turn made it obvious that he was watching Darien. He pretended not to notice and got up, heading towards his car. If he was going to be watched, he wanted to know who was doing it. When he arrived at his vehicle, the one and only Robert Hobbes stepped out from behind a tree to join him. "Come on slick, we got a job to do." He said in an abrupt manner, his sunglasses effectively hiding his eyes. "Sorry man. It’s the day off, you’re gonna have to go rope some other monkey in for the day." "Come on Fawkes." His voice sounded forced, tired. "Just humor the big guy today. Besides, it’s a bonus run for you, you get to have Monday and Tuesday off if this one gets wrapped up nice and quick." "Oh boy! Maybe if I’m real good they’ll give me some bananas!" Darien joked as he got into the car. He was annoyed for being called in, but he didn’t have anything particular that he was doing today anyway. Besides, Hobbes would be there, so it would be worth his while. The shorter man refrained from comment, jumping into the passenger seat and pulling a banana from his jacket pocket. He peeled it and took a bite before he seemed to realize that Darien hadn’t started the car yet. He quirked an eyebrow and looked at him for a moment. "What?" He asked around a mouthful of the fruit. "Well, I was just wondering why you’re in my car." Darien replied, watching his partner who shrugged. Hobbes normally didn’t ride in his car, stating that he preferred to ride in his inconspicuous van than risk his life with Darien’s driving skills. That obviously wasn’t the case right now. "I’m in you’re car because it is the most convenient vehicle…" The man noted that Darien wasn’t buying that line, so he opted for the truth. "All-right. The damn thing got busted. It’s in the garage, so for now we use you’re car." Darien grinned knowingly and turned on the ignition. "That wasn’t to hard to admit now was it." "Just shut-up and drive would ya? I’m getting old here." Hobbes grumbled and Darien pulled out onto the road, his smile growing wider. Hobbes couldn’t help the smirk that arose on his own lips, Darien usually got the easiest smiles out of him, though as he thought of that, his mind was drifting back to the night before. His life was getting more complicated, and he definitely didn’t need it now, not when he had a partner to protect. <><><>()<><><> Hobbes led the way around the warehouse, his weapon was easily held at the ready. Darien jogged along behind him, making sure to keep a look out behind them. This action seemed natural to him at the moment, watching his partners back. When they had first become a team he didn’t think they would ever be able to work smoothly together, but now they just seemed to know what the other was thinking. Darien supposed it was from the amount of time they had spent working together, or maybe it was because they just naturally "clicked". Right now they were honing in on what the official had stated was "a stolen experimental drug. Its uses are confidential, and we need to be the first to get it back. It’ll look good for the agency, so don’t screw it up!" Darien had shrugged to himself, the fat mans main reason for everything was the fact that it would look good for the agency. He turned another corner and was halted when Hobbes stopped and held up his hand, gesturing to a window in warning. They ducked under it and continued around to the door. "All right. We’ve got some guys waiting for our signal at the other entrance, so lets get this thing done quick. I go in, you hang back but follow me. You know where they are, so if I go the wrong way let me know." Hobbes was referring too Darien’s little visit inside the building about half an hour before. That little trip had secured the knowledge that the guys they were looking for where inside. "Yes sir." Darien quipped and followed the stealthy man into the building. Hobbes didn’t make a sound, at all, Darien noted with surprise as he listened to his own footsteps quietly echoing on the floor. Hobbes walked as though he’d been in this place a hundred times, though he’d stated that he’d never even been in this neighborhood before. Darien heard the four men’s voices off in the center of the warehouse. They grew louder as they approached, laughter lightly ringing throughout the building. They obviously had no idea what was about to happen. In an instant Hobbes had stepped out of the shadows, his gun aimed in the men’s directions. Darien watched silently from his position, and he saw the other agents come out from the other side. "Freeze! If one of you so much as moves I’ll make sure you lose you’re legs." The group froze as ordered, three of them raised their hands into the air slowly, proving they were no threat. The fourth man, whose back was turned to Darien and Hobbes, bowed his head a moment before speaking. The amount of venom carried in it was not what he’d expected, and Darien held his breath, feeling shivers run down his spine. He glanced at Hobbes, who was as still as a statue, his hand never moving, held at steady. His eyes were still covered by his shades. "I should have known that if I was gonna be busted it would be by you." The other two agents moved in to start cuffing their criminals, but Hobbes remained frozen in place. "Yeah, well it seems to be the common reunion between us." The sudden realization hit as Darien watched the unfolding scene. Hobbes knew this guy, and fairly well too by the sound of things. "You son-of-a-bitch. You never cease to amaze me, always storming in and ruining my goddamn life." "I didn’t ruin nothing for you, you bastard. I did everything I could to help you and them." "Yeah, well you sure helped didn’t you." The comment was cold, accusing, and seemingly righteous. It was then that Hobbes seemed to have heard enough, and he moved forward quickly, grabbing the man’s arms and cuffing them behind his back. "You have the right to remain silent…" Fawkes moved forward now, sure that the situation was under control and he wouldn’t need his invisibility. Hobbes looked extremely short compared to the guy he was cuffing, the guy being about Darien’s height only built more. "This isn’t over Robbie." The voice was ice, and Hobbes was matching it perfectly. "Anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law…" "This time it’s bigger, more is at stake." "You should have thought about that before you jumped back into all this shit. You’ve only been out for what? Nine months!" Hobbes took a breath to calm himself before continuing. "You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford and attorney one will be appointed to you by the court…" "I am not going to let you take me down again Robbie. This is bigger, they will come after you. I’ll make sure of it." "Do you understand these rights." The man turned and glared down at Darien's partner, and Darien took an involuntary step back from surprise. This mission just seemed to get a whole lot more complicated, though Hobbes no longer looked affected by it. When the large man didn’t answer the question Hobbes repeated it firmly. "Marcus Hobbes, do you understand these rights!" The man glared, Hobbes didn’t flinch and the larger man answered with loathing in his voice. "Yes." Two agents came up from behind them and took the man, Marcus Hobbes, away. Darien watched his partner, trying to sort through all this, and he inwardly groaned at the set expression. This was definitely something Hobbes didn’t want to talk about. "Come on kid. We got paper work to do." And with that Darien found himself driving them back to the agency with a heavy silence surrounding them. <><><>()<><><> Darien read Hobbes’s report, noting that if he hadn’t known the truth he would never suspect that Hobbes had arrested his own blood. His brother. Of course the evidence was stacked, proving Marcus Hobbes to be guilty of conspiracy, theft, the kidnapping of the scientist who created the drug, and that same scientists murder. It was hard to believe that this man was related to Hobbes, but it was true. Darien sighed, finished reading the report and signed off on it at the end. He handed it to the official who said nothing, obviously understanding the situation. Even Eberts seemed uncomfortable about the whole situation, and it was no secret that he didn’t like Robert Hobbes. With a curt nod Hobbes stood to leave the room but paused for a moment and turned towards them all. He his characteristic grin, as if the whole thing had never happened. "Loosen up guys. It was a success, we needed it. Though I think a raise is in order…" "In you’re dreams." The Official automatically replied and Hobbes grinned again, keeping up with his usual attitude Darien stood and went to follow him, but the Official called out at him. "Make sure you get you’re shot, and enjoy you’re days off." The door to the office shut and the Official and Eberts stared at it a moment. "Damn." The Official ground out. Despite what most of his agents thought, he hated it when something like this went down. The worst part was that it happened to Hobbes, perhaps his best agent, even if he was annoying as hell. "Eberts. I want you to get me Nick Franhues’s number. That Dick is going to know exactly how I feel about withholding information as important as he did." "Yes sir." "God damn it! I never want something like this to happen here again! I want to know exactly why the FBI withheld the identification of Marcus Hobbes to us as being the fourth party." Eberts didn’t reply to that. He knew, perhaps better than anyone, that you never wanted to get on the Officials bad side, and messing with his agents was definitely the quickest way to get there. Though, even Eberts was angry about this case. Agent Hobbes should not have had to arrest his own brother, especially not with his families past dealings. <><><>()<><><> "Hey Keeper, I need a shot." Darien demanded as he strolled into the room and sat in his chair. She looked at his with a raised eyebrow before going to the refrigerator. "Well good day to you too." She quipped and he mumbled something that sounded like "whatever". "Is something wrong Darien?" She asked while preparing the large needle. "No." He practically growled, and then he sighed. "I’m sorry. Yeah there’s something wrong. Did you know Hobbes has a brother?" He asked, and she froze for a second before administering the shot. When she was done she went to clean the needle. "Yes, I was aware of his family." She replied, seemingly indifferent. "Do you know anything about his past with them? Something bad that went on between him and his brother?" He questioned her, hoping she would tell him something. He had never really spent a lot of energy worrying about his partner’s family, but now it suddenly seemed important. He knew that the operation that went down today was hitting Bobby really hard, and he wanted to help, but he didn’t know how he could. So he figured that maybe if he understood more about the guys past, than he could at least say something. "They had a few difficulties when he was growing up. I don’t really know what it was all about, but I do know that he had a large part to do with his brother’s arrest and imprisonment when he was younger." "Do you how large of a part?" "No. well, yes. But I don’t think I really have the right to tell you." "Oh come on. I’m his partner for crying out loud. The guy knows everything there is to know about me and I had no clue that he even had a brother until this afternoon. Just tell me this and I won’t ask you for anything more." She looked at him and Darien put on his most "I’m innocent, please help me" look. He knew it always got her, and this time was no exception. "Fine. His brother was a big time drug dealer. He handed the stuff out to anyone willing to pay, including children. Quite a few people died, and when agent Hobbes discovered his brother’s actions he turned him over to the police. It was not a pretty thing to witness." "When did that whole deal go down?" "Darien…" "Just humor me. Please?" She let out what sounded like a frustrated growl, but continued all the same. She could never refuse her "Kept". "It was all after he joined the Navy. He was around twenty I think. It was actually that bust that got him interested in life as an agent. At least, that’s what I heard." She shrugged her shoulders, letting Darien know how she felt about hearsay. "Thanks." He replied, but he remained sitting there, thinking things through. She watched him for a moment, but then continued her duties. He silently thanked her for giving him the space. Hobbes had turned his brother over to the cops for one heel of a long jail term. Now that his brother had gotten out Hobbes was once again sending him back to the slammer. That definitely had to hurt the family bonding, but from what Darien had gathered about Hobbes, the man had never had much of a family life. He had supposedly been the one to try and look after them when he was younger, but where had his brother fit into that image? Marcus looked to be the older brother of the two, so shouldn’t it have been his job to take care of everyone before Hobbes? Darien sighed, his life hadn’t been anything like that and he’d become a thief. Hobbes had, from what it sounded like, grown up in the slums, put up with incapable parents, a drug dealing, murdering brother, and he had come out as an agent. Albeit a paranoid, pain in the ass agent, but one hell of a good one. "Why," he spoke up, once again gaining the Keeper’s attention. "Was he thrown out of the Bureau?" That was a question that had been bugging him since he’d discovered his partner had been with them at one time. She glanced at him, a puzzled look on her features. She was probably about to go on a big spiel about why Darien shouldn’t care too much about Hobbes. How Hobbes’s past didn’t matter, and maybe the past didn’t matter, but Darien wanted to know about it anyway. He wanted a clearer view on where his partner was coming from. He gave her his puppy dog look and she crumbled, once again giving in to his questions. "There were supposedly a number of reasons" she replied. "He was fairly paranoid before he joined them, I don’t know why though. In some people it’s just natural to be cautious of surroundings, in others it is a learned trait. They claim the main reason was his paranoia, his inability to get along with any of the partners that were assigned to him." She smiled for a moment. "When we managed to get him into this agency he went through one hell of a lot of partners. He usually worked solo, preferring it that way. You are probably one of the longer lasting partner’s he’s had since he joined here." "You’re kidding." "Nope, of course he seems to have a soft spot for you, he’s been surprisingly nice." She raised her eyebrow and he grinned proudly. "Yeah. I suppose it’s because I’m pretty much as stubborn as he is…" "And you can put up with him." She grinned. "I suppose that’s a good reason. Well, his whole "attitude" is why they say he got tossed, but he had wrapped up way to many top priority cases to just be dismissed over that notion. Some people say it’s because of some assignment gone bad, or maybe his past has something to do with it. A lot of people didn’t want him in the Bureau, they made it very clear to him a few times, or so I hear." She finished her last comment safely, not making any permanent assumptions. He nodded. So the Bureau guys had some sort of grudge over him working for them. What kind of things had they made "clear" about their opinion of his position in their department? He remembered the open hostility that some of the agents from the Bureau had shown towards his partner in some of the cases that had involved them. He also remembered Hobbes's anger, and then uncaring attitude towards it. The best thing that had come out of those missions was the fact that he and Hobbes had one-upped them in the end. That had pissed the FBI off, and left the other two agents enjoying an adrenaline rush from the ego-boost. Darien cracked a small smile; maybe he was becoming more of an agent than he thought he would, and he was actually enjoying that idea. He stood and waved to the keeper. He wanted to talk to Hobbes, but he didn’t think the man would want to see him. Well, Hobbes had been known to "check in" on Darien himself a few times. Darien saw no reason why he couldn’t do the same thing. Besides, the action was justified: He was worried about his partner and friend. <><><>()<><><> Shit… shit shit shit shit shit! Damn! Bobby Hobbes stormed around his living room and kitchen area, not knowing what else to do. This wasn’t happening. Not again. God Damn it! He practically ran up the stairs to his room, where he stripped and threw on a pair of sweat pants. He headed back down the stairs, not bothering with a shirt. He opened a door and stepped into a large room. It had a punching bag set up in one corner, a whole weight-set in another, and a chin up bar and treadmill occupied the last two corners. The center of the room was covered with mats, forming a large square area, and he headed there immediately. He needed to calm down so he could think things through. He couldn’t think in this frame of mind, only feel, and right now he wanted to think. He threw himself bodily into some routine Kata’s, trying to find a calm spot within himself. It wasn’t working. Damn it! He’d arrested his brother again, but this time he’d been the one to set up the entire operation, and take Marcus down, his own blood. The worst part about the whole thing was that he despised his brother. He despised his brother and his father and mother. He despised everyone who had supported his brother throughout his entire life, and left Bobby to pick up after them. Damn them all! He began the tougher Kata’s, punching and kicking out in the air in controlled fury. Jumping, and rolling on the mats, sweat began to drip down his face from the exertion, but he didn’t slow down. His whole life he had tried to help them. He had put up with the abuse, verbal and physical. He had ignored the bouts of drunken stupor’s and state of comatose they would all fall into when doing their drugs. He had tried to help them, get them to see Doctor’s and councilor’s. His brother had never done anything, just sat around and dealt his parents the few drugs they’d wanted. Hobbes had gone to work full time night shifts when he was fifteen, trying to bring in the money for the rent that his parents seemed to have forgotten about. He had continued doing that, throwing his education down the tubes. Nothing had ever been good enough. Well, damn them, he had put up with it forever, only leaving when his father had finally pulled a knife out on him, cutting him in the chest deep enough to leave a scar. Hobbes paused a moment, panting. His hand automatically traced the line of bumpy flesh. It was only one of many that he had, but the others had never hurt so much, they hadn’t been given to him by his own blood. He had left them then, his family no longer had a part in his life, or so he’d thought. A few years later they had asked him to come home, come visit them. He had gone, under his sense of obligation. When he had met up with them they had changed. They were still the mindless assholes that they’d been before, only now they were rich. They had called him to gloat, proving how stupid they were. Hobbes’s brother had become a big time dealer and had finally stepped in to help his folks out. Out of duty, honor, and the strong sense to do what was right he had turned his brother in. Well, if he hadn’t been disowned by his family then, he was now their worst enemy. They had made that very clear. The memories dug deep into his heart, and his hate of them and what they had done to him came back full force. He stepped off the mats and headed to punching bag, not bothering to wrap his hands. He pummeled the worn leather with his fist. Hitting it over and over again. He hated his family, and that was the worst feeling in the world. His knuckles scraped the leather, the skin was slowly peeled away from the constant assault, but he didn’t stop. He hit it again and again until his hands were openly bleeding, and he still hit it, craving the release. His brother would go back to prison, where he deserved to be, and Hobbes lost the small hope he had carried that maybe one day he could have his family back. He continued hitting it, releasing his anguish, until he no longer felt it, and he stopped. He stared at the red smear on the bag, and then at his hands. He would have cried, but Bobby Hobbes was no wimp. He would have laughed, but he didn’t see the point. Instead he headed to the bathroom, his sweat slick body shining in the room’s light. He casually turned on the shower and stepped in, the hot water almost scalding. He stood under its spray for what seemed like forever. He was okay, now. He would be fine, he always had been and always would be. It had just been a lot to deal with so suddenly, but it was nothing he couldn’t live with. He told himself this over and over again, and the thing that bothered him most was that he knew he would eventually start to believe it. <><><>()<><><> Darien Fawkes had watched his partner vent his emotions in his gym. It had shaken him, in more ways than one. He had wanted to reach out to his partner, to try and offer solace, but he couldn’t. Not when he had never been invited to witness what he had. The raw emotions that had shown on Bobby’s face were many, and too hard to follow. It hurt to see his friend like that. That was the first time Darien had ever seen his partner’s uncovered body. He had been, at first, amaze at the strength that was always covered up under layers of clothing. The muscles were well formed, but not bulging like a body builder. He was built like someone who used the muscles, in combat to be more precise, and Darien noted the proof of that combat with mixed emotions. The scars covering the mans torso were varied, the one he had obtained on his right shoulder, from saving his ex-wife’s fiancee, was still stretched and pink in healing. The others were older, and he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know how his partner had gotten them. Other people’s voices rang through his mind: "They made it clear they didn’t like him." "Some assignment gone bad..." And then there was Hobbes himself who had said "I’ve been through a lot for this country and I’d do it again." Darien wanted to cry, but he didn’t feel as though he had the right. Instead he had just watched in a stupid daze, until he quietly turned and left Hobbes to his self. Once in the hall he headed out of the building at a fast pace and ran to his car. He shed his quicksilver and slipped in behind the driver’s seat. He needed to get home, to sleep. He would think about all this in the morning when his mind was clearer. <><><>()<><><> "Where’s Hobbes?" Were the Officials first words as Darien strolled into his office the next morning. "I don’t know, he’s usually here before me." Darien felt a small knot beginning to form in his gut. If the Official seemed worried about his partner, when he usually expressed an attitude of uncaring, than something must have gone wrong. "Damn. Eberts, pull Lawrence and Tennant onto this one now." "Yes sir." Was the mans crisp reply as he all but flew out of the room in his haste. "What’s wrong fat man? Bobby in trouble or something?" The Official looked at him a moment before replying, his voice calm but stern. "There were more than four people involved in the bust yesterday. The fifth man is yet to be found, and we have no idea who he is. When Hobbes gets here I want you two too stick together. From your report they threatened Hobbes openly. That means they might have gone after him." Darien stared at the man for a moment. He was serious, that was certain. He was also looking guilty as hell, which he answered for in his next sentence. "Yesterday I was too caught up in my anger at the whole operation that I forgot about that threat. I didn’t get Hobbes the protection he should have had…" "Oh give it up." Darien sighed, knowing that feeling guilty wouldn’t help the situation, even though he was also feeling guilt’s wrath. "Hobbes would have flat out refused protection. He’d insist that the guys guarding him were the ones after him. He knows how to protect himself, perhaps better than anyone else could protect him." When did he start offering comforting words to a man who usually pissed him off to no end? The door behind him opened and he watched silently as Eberts walked in, leading two other agents. Two big agents. "These are Agents Lawrence and Tennant. You work with them until Hobbes is found. Whether he is just late this morning or something actually happened to him, I am classifying him as a missing Agent. I want him found people. And now." "Yes sir!" The two Agents replied in a unison that sounded practiced, and Darien would have usually laughed at them, but at the moment he was too nervous for his partner. "Okay guys. Where do we start?" Usually it was Hobbes who was already figuring out how to go about a case, getting the details and everything sorted out for Darien before he came into help. Now Darien would work with these two, to find his partner. <><><>()<><><> He should have known. He was such an idiot! How the hell could he just let this happen? Looks like he screwed up again, at least this time it was only he who was going to pay for it. Hobbes cursed at himself, repeatedly. His head felt like it had a hundred armies fighting out a little war in it and both sides were losing. The worst part about that was that his aching head was the least of his problems. The biggest problem was the fact that he was in a large empty room, with boarded up windows, and he was hanging from the ceiling by his arms. The handcuffs holding him in place on the large hook were rubbing against his flesh, causing it to chafe. The problem that went along with the biggest problem was casually walking around, setting up video equipment. Charlie Capriest. Agent Charlie Capriest from the Bureau to be more precise, was the one who was walking around, quietly humming to himself. Occasionally he glanced over and smiled at Hobbes, his handsome features brightening up in the dim room, but there was no friendliness in that smile. Not by a long run. That morning Hobbes had gotten up and prepared to got to work. He’d cursed himself for being to stupid to wrap his hands before using the punching bag, but shrugged it off. He would think of some excuse for the cuts on the way to work. When he’d eaten he had headed down the parking street to grab a cab, that was when Capriest had made his appearance. "Agent Hobbes." The tone had been formal, business like. Nothing suspicious about it, so Hobbes had turned to him. "Agent Capriest. It’s been a long time." "Yes, it has. Now, I’m here on business…" "The bust was mine Capriest. You guys ain’t gonna take credit for it this time." He had growled. They had always jumped into steal the credit, especially when it came to the Department of Fish & Game. "We don’t want credit. Anyone willing to take down his own brother should get it all. I am here to take you to a new hot zone. We found the fifth party in the operation and we wanted to have you there, to help bring the man down." His voice sounded disgusted at the thought that he had to be bringing Hobbes with him. They usually were when they were ordered to share the job. Hobbes had found himself getting into the sleek black car. Since when could agents afford vehicles like this one? Even though the car and Capriest, had bothered him, he had paid no attention to it, being to caught up with the fact that there was a fifth party. Why hadn’t he been informed sooner? The drive to a group of abandoned office buildings in the industrial area had been tense, Capriest wouldn’t give him any details until he got there. He’d gone with it, thinking of all the rules and stuff. When they had parked and gotten out of the car Hobbes had looked around for one second and realized there was something wrong. Before he had the chance to react, a sharp pain had attacked his head in full fury and he fell to the ground, unconscious. Now he was here, and unable to escape. So, you’re the fifth man huh." His voice was cold, not announcing a bit of the fear that was beginning to wrap in his gut. "Very good." Was the sarcastic remark as the man kept setting up the equipment. "I should have known you were the bad link Capriest. I could smell it when I was with you guys, I should have known it when you, of all people, showed up this morning." "Well, its to bad you lost a little of that paranoid outlook on life. You might not be in this situation." Was the calm answer and the man walked slowly towards him. Hobbes glared, but said nothing. "You know, they are all idiots. They could never figure it out, though I have to say I covered my tracks well." He smiled smugly and continued to explain. "You see, I was the agent in charge of this whole drug scam. They never would have figured out where the deal was going down, or arrested any of my partners. Except, of course, the fact that you got called in on the case. What the hell does Fish & Game have to do with drugs anyway?" Seeing that he was waiting for a response Hobbes obliged. "We were informed they were testing the drugs on rabbits. Can’t have that now, innocent little rabbits don’t deserve that." A fist smacked into his stomach and he felt the air forced from his lungs. His vision blurred a moment from the pain in his head, but he regained his composure almost immediately. "You know, that was going to be my retirement fund. I was gonna move somewhere nice, forget about all the pathetic problems of this place." "You are the pathetic problem in this place, so I doubt you’d be escaping it." The man smiled and moved in so close that Hobbes could feel his hot breath on his cheek. The man spoke softly into his ear, using a tone of voice that sounded extremely happy. "I might be the pathetic problem, but the Bureau trusted me over you’re loyal hide. They never even looked back over you’re departure, unless of course, it was to despise you." He pulled back. "They believed it all, after everything you’d done for them, they believed that you had turned traitor. And do you know who they believed?" "Shut-up" "Me. Oh, and you’re old partner. Girect really hated you, so he helped me out. You were gone before you even realized what happened." He smiled and headed over to the camera, finishing his work. Hobbes hung there, his feet not touching the ground. His mind clouded over with hate for this man, and he could do nothing about it. So he just hung there, watching Capriest’s every move and hoping someone would get him out of this mess, and very soon. "Anyways," The man called over to him. "You’re brother requested that I finish you off for him, the right way." Hobbes’s blood ran cold. "You did ruin his life for the second time in a row after all. He really hates you. Wanted me too tape the whole thing so he could watch it from prison, or when he got out, or whenever. He said something about revenge being sweet. I have to agree." Hobbes saw the red light on the camera blink on, and watched Capriest move to a table at the back, picking up a pair of electric paddles. Oh god. Hobbes knew what was coming. A long death, ordered by his own brother by the sounds of it. He didn’t want that, definitely not on his top ten list of ways to go. He wanted to die a hero, or at least with some respect. That looked like it wasn’t going to happen, not here. He would die and people would probably just laugh. They always laughed, not caring about what happened to him. Well, he’d beaten all the odds in his life, he had done himself proud, if no one else. He wasn’t about to go down without a fight. He would hold on as long as possible. The man approached him, and gathered up as much courage as he could. He could do this, he thought, and shot the man his coldest glare. <><><>()<><><> Five hours. It had been five hours since they had started to look for Hobbes. Five hours of no luck or leads. They had checked everywhere for him and come up as dry as the desert. This was not looking good, and the knot in Darien’s stomach grew bigger with each passing minute. The Official had called them back to the office, wanting an update. He had not been happy, but he had accepted the news, or lack there of. Darien had gone for a quick shot, after using so much quicksilver the night before. Watching Hobbes. The guilt ate away at him, but he pushed it aside. Right now he, Tweedle Dee, and Tweedle Dum were about to go and have a shot at interrogating the other four suspects. The Bureau people had had their shot, and had reported no results. Darien wanted a turn. Maybe he would just go invisible a while and threaten them with his madness. That was bound to get results. Darien was brought back to his present situation in the Officials office by the ringing telephone. The two agents had already stood and were practically out of the door, anxious to start the interrogations. If Darien liked anything about them it was their willingness to find his partner. They said something about him helping them out a while back but they wouldn’t go into details. Darien got up to follow them but was stopped by the Officials rough voice. "Fawkes. Get to the roof. The FBI are coming around in a minute to pick you up. They found you’re partner it seems, but he’s giving them some trouble. They want you there." The fat man looked worried for a moment, but instantly covered it up, his expression once again becoming business like. "Bring him back." "Yes sir." Darien turned and ran out of the office and headed up to the roof. He didn’t want to be holding anyone back time wise, for they had found his partner, and he wanted to get to him as soon as possible. When he arrived on the roof a helicopter had just landed. He ran to it and jumped in the open doors. It took off a moment later and he was handed a pair of headphones, which he gladly put on, drowning out the noise. "I thought you guys had no leads." He stated once buckled in. The two men in black suits looked at him as though he were filth, but they answered his question anyway. "It turns out that the fifth party was an agent working for us. Charlie Capriest. One of the criminals told us in order to get a deal on his sentence." They glared at him, as if daring him to say something about the traitor, but at the moment Darien only wanted to know how Hobbes was. "So the guy grabbed Hobbes this morning and has had him all this time?" "Yes." "So how is Hobbes?" The look that suddenly entered their eyes made him mad, it was obvious that they didn’t like his partner. "He is being his usual pain in the ass. He refuses to come out and is shooting at anyone who tries to enter. We should have him brought up on charges for this." They glared at Darien as if Hobbes’s attitude was his fault and Darien had to control himself from trying to throw them out of the helicopter. He glared at them but didn’t say anything, afraid that they might not take him to his partner. When the helicopter finally landed he jumped out and was followed closely by the agents, who pointed out which direction he should go in. He walked quickly, glancing at all the men and women surrounding the area around a one story building. They seemed busy, but they all stopped and glared at him a moment. What the hell was going on here? Hobbes had been kidnapped by one of their men and they were mad at him! No wonder his partner always spoke of them with such disrespect: They seemed to have none for him. He finally stopped at the group who seemed to be in charge. They glanced up at him and he introduced himself, showing his badge. "Agent Fawkes. I’m here to get my partner." "Finally. That asshole has been shooting at us every time we open the damn door. He’s refusing to come out. Maybe you could go in there and straighten him out…" "Hey wait a second here. Did I hear you just call him an asshole?" "The shoe fits. Now I want you to go in there and get him. He’s caused us enough trouble for today…" "He’s caused YOU enough trouble for today? You know I’m starting to understand why he hates you guys so much. I mean, I’m sure he meant to get kidnapped and who knows what today, just so he could piss you guys off! Do you have any idea on his condition? Did you maybe stop to think that it was a member of your agency that grabbed him in the first place, so he doesn’t trust you guys!" The people around him stared at him in stunned silence, but he didn’t care. All the emotions he’d been trying to keep under control the past two days were finally coming to the surface and he didn’t want to stop it. "Well fuck you. Maybe you should start acting like the professionals you claim to be and put aside you’re personal opinions for another date. Agent Hobbes doesn’t need to be putting up with you’re shit right now." He glared at them all and was satisfied to see that they actually looked abashed. He turned and headed towards the building yelling over his shoulder. "I want that helicopter ready to take us to the hospital or our department when we get out. If you so much as accuse him of having a purposeful part in this mess, I will personally make sure that you regret it." He soon found himself standing outside the only door into the place and he called out loudly to announce his presence. "Hey Bobby? It’s Fawkes here. I’m gonna come in through the door okay?" When he received no reply he took it as an agreement to his request and he lightly stepped into the dark building. The first thing he noticed was the video equipment set up to the side of the room, and then a persons limp form in the center. It must be Capriest, his eyes were closed and he had blood dripping down the side of face. He looked like he was dead, but the slight rise and fall of his chest indicated otherwise. Darien saw a large hook attached in the ceiling above the man, and it scared him. There were a pair of handcuffs and spots of blood on the floor beneath it, and a small trail of red leading into a corner of the room. He looked into that corner and saw his partner, staring at him through guarded eyes. "Hey Bobby." He spoke quietly, not knowing what state his partner was in. "You okay?" "I look okay to you Fawkes?" Was the flat reply. The gun he held in shaking hands dropped to his side and his gaze shifted to the door. Fawkes looked there too, out of instinct, and he was glad to see that nobody had followed him. He turned back to his partner and walked towards him slowly. "You look like shit." He stated flatly, trying to bring out that level of familiarity between them. As he got closer he could see bruises covering Hobbes’s stomach and chest. His gut clenched at the sight and he quickly knelt down beside the man, who suddenly looked so small. "I feel like shit." He whispered and closed his eyes. That action speaking for itself the amount of trust he had in Darien. He kept talking, quietly, as if to assure his partner things were okay. "He’s an agent, with the Bureau. Worked with Marcus the whole time. Wanted a little revenge for his ruined plans." Darien listened quietly, not wanting to interrupt. "He didn’t get it though. Nobody gets what they want from Bobby Hobbes unless he’s willing to give it." His voice shook slightly and Darien, not knowing what else to do, reached out and placed his hand lightly on his partners shoulder. The simple gesture seemed so trivial, but he felt Hobbes shudder beneath it. In a second he had his arms wrapped around him in a light hug, offering his silent support. He held his breath a moment when Hobbes didn’t return the gesture, but then the shorter mans arms came up around him and his arms latched on like a vice grip. Hobbes didn’t cry, he just held on, as if for his life. Finally he spoke into his partner’s shoulder, needing to tell someone how he felt, and right now the only person he trusted was the man silently holding onto him. "My brother wanted this. Wanted it taped so he could watch. Sick bastard. I’ve never hated anyone more than him, or my family. They are the people I try to protect others from, and they are my own blood." "They are nothing like you Bobby. You are more than what most people can hope to be in their lives. You choose to help others, always putting your own life on the line for them. A hero Bobby, you’re the strongest person I know. Forget them, you don’t need them." Darien spoke quietly, he spoke the truth for the first time to Bobby, and now that he’d started it he would finish it. "You are my family Bobby. You’ve been there for me, always. You’re my family, not by blood but by heart." The injured mans arms tightened around him and Darien thought he would suffocate from the pressure, but he held on, letting Bobby take all the time he needed. "Thank you." Finally Bobby released his grip and leaned back, wiping away at the single tear that had fallen on his cheek. He looked up at Darien, his eyes shining with what looked like pride, respect…love? Darien smiled and pulled away, and then looked down at his arms, which were covered in blood. "Oh god Bobby!" "Hey, don’t worry about it. It ain’t nothing I haven’t lived through before. Hey, you sure those guys out there are on our side?" The question was asked so matter-of-factly, that Darien was shocked for a moment, but he pushed past that knowing it didn’t matter right now. What mattered was getting Bobby some help. "Yeah, they’re cool. You okay to walk?" The shorter man gave a tired crooked grin and rose to his feet, unaided. "I said it takes a lot to take Bobby Hobbes down didn’t I?" Darien smiled back, though the worry was clearly etched on his face. He saw the slashes that were still bleeding down his partners back, and grimaced. "Let’s go." Hobbes was suddenly back in agent mode, as if everything that happened a second ago hadn’t happened. He limped slowly over to the video equipment, ignoring the table of torture devices, and he ejected the tape. He raised it in his hands to snap it and then paused. He sighed and Darien was surprised when he handed it to him. If it had been him he would have destroyed it. "Capriest is still alive, and he said some stuff on there that is useful to the Bureau. We’ll keep it for evidence." A minuet late Darien was calling out the door warning people that they were coming out, unarmed. When he looked back Hobbes had squared his shoulders and held his head high. The man never stayed down, and this was solid proof of that testament. When they stepped into the sunlight the agents surrounding them froze. Their eyes following the man all the way to the helicopter, where he quietly wrapped a blanket over his back and got in, waiting for his ride to his own Department. They didn’t know what happened, but the man who had just walked by didn’t seem like the traitor they had heard all about. When the flying machine took off they headed into the building to finish this case. <><><>()<><><> Once in the helicopter Darien watched his partner, who had closed his eyes to rest. It might not have seemed like a small world to him the day before, but at that moment the only thing that existed in his own world was the man across from him. His family. Prologue Richard Domanice sighed as he leaned back in his overly stuffed chair. He’d spent a lot of time working on this case for the last few days, and he still had about six hours to throw in tonight. Six long hours, five of which he had to spend watching a damn tape for information and evidence. It was for the Marcus Hobbes drug case that had gone down two weeks before. They wanted this one wrapped up quickly because a former agent had been running the whole illegal deal. It was embarrassing to the Bureau, having one of their own turn bad, not that it hadn’t happened before. At that thought he perked up slightly. Agent Hobbes had been involved in this. In fact, this tape was supposed to be about his abduction or something, but nobody was quiet sure since the tape hadn’t been viewed yet. Robert Hobbes. Richard thought of that name with disgust. He had heard all about that bastard. How he’d left some children in a building with a bomb set to explode all because he wanted to catch the bad guy that he’d had a personal beef with. Innocent children left to die because of his damn need for vengeance. And they had died in the bomb’s explosion, their bodies being too torn up to really identify, except for blood and hair samples. It made him sick. Whatever was on the tape he held, he suddenly wanted to see it. He wanted to see the sick agent suffer. The man wouldn’t even admit that he had left them to die. He’d said that they had already been killed, but his partner had sung a different story, and his partner had always been the better of the two. Richard walked to the VCR and put the tape in. It was time to watch and review. He sat back down at his desk and picked a pen and paper. In a few days somebody else would go over this and officially type it all up, for now they just wanted the basics. He shifted in his seat to get comfortable, picked up the remote and hit play. A few moments later the tape began. Charlie Capriest stood, looking at the tape for a moment and then smiled when he was sure it was recording. Richard felt a chill creep up his spine from the almost psychotic glaze. "Here you go Marcus. Enjoy the show." The man spoke softly and turned to a side table. When he moved there was a direct line of view to a man who hung from a pair of handcuffs attached to the ceiling. His toes just touched the floor, offering him no release from the strain on his arms. The man was Robert Hobbes, and his glare was more unnerving the Capriest’s gaze. Suddenly Capriest’s voice filled the room, picking up from a previous conversation not taped. "Anyway, your brother requested that I finish you off for him the right way. You did ruin his life for the second time in a row, after all. He really hates you. Wanted me to tape the whole thing so he could watch it from prison, or when he got out, or whenever. He said something about revenge being sweet. I have to agree." The man was back in the screen now and Hobbes watched his every move, though he was helpless. Richard knew what was happening. Torture before death. Not the nicest thing to go through but if anyone deserved it, it was Hobbes. No. He took a breath and leaned back as he watched the paranoid agent’s body shake from short bursts of electricity. Nobody deserved torture and he felt ashamed to have even thought that, but after leaving kids to die it was hard not to hate him. Hobbes jerked again on the screen; Capriest was laughing lightly as if it was a game. Blood trickled down the tortured mans lip, probably from biting his tongue. So far he hadn’t cried out, only making strangled noises. Tough little bastard, Richard thought as he took notes. By now Hobbes was panting heavily, his body shaking. Capriest stood back to admire his handiwork, grinning again and humming a little. Finally he turned and walked back to the table. Hobbes had raised his eyes and was once again watching the man’s every move, hatred clear on his face. At least it’s not a child Richard thought, and again chastised himself. So far he had confirmed that electricity had been used. It was uncertain what had really happened. When they’d gone through the place it had been reported that all the instruments had been cleaned. They had also been informed that Hobbes had walked out after holding them off at gun point, so he had obviously not been that hurt. The Department of Fish & Game was not releasing information on his condition, at his own request, so they didn’t have much to go on in that area. Turning his attention back to the screen he noticed Capriest circling the hated agent, a finger trailing over the slick skin on his neck, scratching it with the nail. The man was still humming, until Hobbes spoke. "So, enjoying yourself?" "Quite." "You do this often?" What was the guy asking questions like that for? Why was he suddenly interested in the small facts when facing possible death? "Unfortunately no. The big men upstairs frown upon it unless it gets us something." "Well, I’d recommend that you don’t quit your day job, but it’s a little late for that." The man’s eyes clouded with anger and he swung his left arm hard, hitting lower back. Hobbes’s eyes scrunched and his face went red from the pain. He struggled to pull in air as Capriest walked around the front, light glinting off his knuckles, off some brass knuckles. He hit him again in the stomach and Richard could picture the abused muscle tightening under the shirt, but he didn’t feel too much sympathy. A few more punches were thrown and Hobbes was left alone, hanging limply from the handcuffs. Obviously trying to relax his muscles while he had the chance. A moment later his eyes were once again following his captor. Richard wrote these facts down, the more the merrier, and some people had requested the details. He was only obliging. After a few moments of silence Hobbes gasped out. "That’s a short fuse you’re running on there. I know a shrink that could help you with that problem…" laughing was heard from off screen. "You never give up. Well, your brother said as much. It’s probably the reason you were such a good agent, even though paranoia has always a big part in that." "Yeah, well. You’ve seen my brother, he’s reason enough to become paranoid. Then of course there’s all the guys like you." When there was no reply Hobbes continued, seemingly indifferent. "So, when did you and Girect become buddies? I never even suspected that you two had it in for me." "Yes well, let’s just say you pissed us off to no end." "I’m that good huh?" Suddenly Hobbes’s watchful and angry gaze drifted to the camera. His eyes bore into whoever was watching and Richard unconsciously leaned back to get farther away from it. The look was cold, and stubborn, yet there was the sense of triumph in it. Like he felt he was winning a battle that he couldn’t win. Then his eyes drifted back to his captor and Richard sighed, making more notes. This was one weird bastard if anything, but there was something in the tone that he used, something that said he was right and everyone else was wrong. Of course, he’d always been like that from the way his partners and bosses described him. Thought he was always right. A knife glinted in Capriest's hand as he headed back to Hobbes. He rubbed it slowly across the man’s cheek, threatening to break skin. Trying to scare him. It wasn’t working from what Richard could tell and that made Capriest mad. He suddenly ripped open Hobbes’ buttoned-up shirt, exposing his chest. Some bruises were already turning to a shade of purple and he smiled, pressing a finger into one. "You think you’re so good. You think you’re the best don’t you. Well, you didn’t one-up me you bastard, cause I’ve got you now and you’re going to die." There was no reply and he traced the knife down the muscled chest. "You might be good. Hell, you’ve got one hell of a record going for you. Right up to the point that they booted you." "Didn’t we already have this conversation?" "What’s wrong, don’t want to hear about how everyone hates you?" "It ain’t nothing I haven’t heard before, I don’t need to hear it again." He tried to move away from the hands tracing the scars on his front, but it didn’t accomplish anything. "It really gets to you doesn’t it? Knowing they all dropped you on your ass after what you’d done. Of course they thought you deserved it. Stupid sometimes aren’t they? Of course, when it involves children, most aren’t that forgiving." Capriest pushed the sharp blade under the material surrounding the arm and began to cut it away. Richard wrote furiously, starting to realize what Hobbes was saying when he had been looking into the camera. He wanted whoever was watching to get information. He was setting Capriest up. Richard began to get nervous. He couldn’t explain the feeling, maybe it was anticipation for the information he was going to receive from this tape. Maybe it was in fear of what he was going to hear. What were these two men implying when they said Hobbes had been dropped on his ass, and that ‘they’d’ thought he deserved it? He was suddenly afraid that they were implying that the Bureau had been tricked. He didn’t know the details, but he was also beginning to put two and two together. He watched in fear now, beginning to feel sympathy for the man being tortured. "I don’t need this, just kill me already and stop wasting my time." Hobbes ground out as his shirt fell away completely, exposing his whole upper body. Capriest stood back to admire it a moment before moving in and tracing the blade around some scars. "Where is the fun in that? You lost your nerve little man?" A spark lit his captor’s eyes. "No, of course you haven’t, but you’re going to. I want you too scream, and beg me to kill you. I think that is what your brother wants too. Huh? Yeah, he wants you to suffer…" He walked behind him and Hobbes's face once again lit up with pain. A knife fell to Capriest’s side, blood dripping from it. "First blood Marcus, the way you wanted it." He spoke into the camera and grinned. "You’re gonna die a loser Hobbes, a failure. Everyone will always know what you did." "I didn’t do anything. They were dead!" He jerked, trying an impossible attempt to get free. They were dead? Richard leaned forward. "Yes, I know. Girect and I both knew. Those children were stabbed to death a few hours before you got there, we were just waiting for you to show up and find the killer. I don’t blame you for putting him in a coma, that sick bastard deserved it, killing the innocent like that. Of course it was easy to say you left them to die. Not many people liked you anyway. Just convince the few to convince the many. It always works." The tape was paused and Richard wrote furiously. Holy shit. Hobbes hadn’t left the kids to die. He hadn’t, and he had said he hadn’t. They hadn’t believed him at all. Richard stared at the screen, Hobbes hanging, frozen in the center. He hadn’t left them to die. He had told the truth and they had "dropped him on his ass." They had dismissed everything he had done. Made a joke out of him. Humiliated him on more than one account and had him thrown out of the Bureau. Guilt. Right now Richard felt guilty at the wrong done toward Hobbes. No wonder the man hated them so much. It seemed he had the right to not trust them, but they hadn’t had that right. He marked the time on the tape down. He would bring it to the top men and show them. It wasn’t much, but getting the truth out would hopefully ease some of the guilt. He turned the tape back on and for four and a half more hours he watched. The knife had come and gone several times, a whip, a needle filled with something that caused Hobbes to lose focus. Electricity, a cattle prod, salt…it went on. Capriest constantly laughed until he began to get frustrated. Hobbes would not scream. The brass knuckles came and left. It was slow and painful to watch. But Richard watched it. And a respect for the man on screen grew with each moment. Not for what was happening, but for what had happened. Capriest was now yelling and storming off screen. He came back with a small steel saw. Hobbes watched him through pain filled eyes, still glaring. "All you have to do is scream. I’ll end it quickly and you don’t have to feel this anymore. I promise, just scream." Hobbes lifted his head, looking like he would scream, but instead he summoned up some strength and spit on his captor. That had been the wrong move and Capriest stormed up in front of him. What happened then was almost too quick to follow and Richard watched it twice just to make sure he’d seen it right. Hobbes had grabbed onto the chains of the handcuffs and had pulled himself up, kicking his feet out in front. Instead of impacting with the flesh he wrapped his legs around the guys neck, pulling him close enough so that he was sitting on his shoulders. With the extra height he lifted his arms off the hook in the ceiling and both men fell to the ground. Capriest had been shocked by the sudden act of retaliation, and he just scrambled to his feet as quickly as possible, trying to understand the situation. Hobbes had stood up also and he kicked out with his left foot, hitting Capriest’s hand and sending the saw flying across the room. He took one step and had double fisted Capriest across the face, knocking him out cold. The unconscious form fell to the ground with a thud and Hobbes watched a moment before collapsing himself. The man stayed on his knees a moment, his arms folded tightly into his stomach. His body gleamed in the artificial light and Richard could see the blood dripping along his side. A moment later it seemed Hobbes was done with his rest, and he moved quickly forward on his knees to Capriest. He pulled a gun from its holster and aimed it at the man’s head for a moment before growling in frustration and continuing a body search. He pulled another gun from the mans leg and the handcuff keys came out of a pocket. He undid the manacles with shaking hands and dropped them to the ground. He looked up suddenly, at the camera. His eyes hardened, but his lips formed a slight smile, a smug smile. A victorious smile. Then his gaze dropped and he remained sitting on his ass a moment before pushing himself off into a corner, gun in hand. A moment later he fired it at some agents trying to get in, keeping them off. Richard felt no anger toward this, even after hearing how his close friend had almost been hit. Hobbes had every right to shoot. He had the right to protect himself after what he went through. After half an hour of silence speckled with gunfire, a man was allowed to enter the room. Darien Fawkes, Hobbes’s partner. The tall man’s footsteps echoed around the room and he finally stepped in the camera’s view. His gaze looked at it with puzzlement, and then understanding. Anger immediately followed and he had turned away with disgust, searching for his partner. A moment later he moved off screen, in the direction Hobbes had gone. "Hey Bobby. You okay?" "I look okay to you Fawkes?" was the flat reply. "You look like shit." Richard listened intently, trying to pick up on the off screen conversation. He only received scattered words; brother, family, Hobbes, oh god Bobby. A few moments later they were back in view, Hobbes limping slowly towards the tape, a determined look on his face. The image blurred out of focus and then it ended. Richard sat a moment, staring at the blue screen. A lot of stuff had gone down. He stood and ejected the tape and then collected his books. He locked his office and headed upstairs. He needed to talk to his superior, and the sooner the better. <><><>()<><><> The Official and Eberts sat in the Official’s office, staring at the phone. They knew that a certain line would ring soon. Very soon. Too soon since neither of them wanted it to. They had heard that the call would be coming in yesterday, a snitch from the Bureau had called in to warn the Official. Duty had gone on as usual after that, only a lot of thinking had caused it to slow down. Lost in their thoughts, both men jumped as the phone rang and Eberts poised ready to strike over the speakerphone button. When the line picked up he hit it, tapping into the line so they could hear the conversation. Not a sound came from the two, they practically held their breaths. "Agent Hobbes." "Yes, Agent Hobbes. This is Alex Morgan, head of the Bureau." There was a moment of silence before Hobbes spoke again. "Yes sir?" "First off, how are you feeling? Better from your ordeal with Capriest?" "Yes sir." The Official and Eberts shared a smile at the tense conversation; Hobbes was not making it easy. "Good, that’s good. Look son, I just want to start by saying that I am deeply sorry for what happened to you there. Also, I would like to apologize to you on behalf of the entire Bureau, for not believing in your innocence with the Wagnall case. After your years of dedicated service we should have known better. We’re sorry." Another silence occurred while Hobbes thought over the apology. After all, it’s not every day that a single agent will apologize for a mistake, let alone a whole agency. And from the big man himself. That must have hurt his pride. "Yes sir." The answer did not hold any acceptance to the apology, just acknowledgment. "That brings me to my next point agent Hobbes. I would like you to come and work with our department again. We can always use a man with your skill. You can set a good example for the younger men and women. We are also willing to double your pay, a man with your talents should not be passed up without a fight." "I see." Hobbes voice was contemplative, unrevealing. The Official stiffened. Double pay? There was no way he could afford to offer that to Hobbes to get him to stay, and the man was always grumbling about more money. He glanced at Eberts. The two had a little bit of history together and it had in fact, been Eberts who had convinced the Official to hire Hobbes after he’d been black-listed. The man had a small smile on his face so the Official turned his head back to the phone. Hope was beginning to replace the worry in his stomach. After another few moments of tense silence Hobbes spoke. "That’s an enticing offer sir. Double pay, I could use that… "Great! Then we’ll begin the transfer of your papers…" "That won’t be necessary sir. Over the years, I have put up with your agency. I co-operated when you needed it. Helped you when you told me you didn’t want anything to do with me. Now I’m flattered that you want me back for my "skills" as an agent. Who would have thought that all it would take would be a little bit of torture and actual investigation for you to come to the conclusion that I could be worth something to you? If I had known sooner I would have jumped at the opportunity to speed up the process. As it is though, I’m happy where I am. Therefore I’m turning down your offer. If you require my services you may contact my superior. Only then will I waste my time with you people. Good day sir." A click was heard and then a quiet "shit" from the other end before the head of the Bureau also hung up. The Official turned to Eberts, their smiles grew wide. "Well Eberts, looks like we bagged the good guy for a while longer. How about we give him a little "enticing" offer to make it worth his while." "I’ll get the books sir, I’m sure we could find a few projects to skim from." "Very good. Get to it." "Yes sir." And that was it. The Official slumped in his chair, relaxing for the first time since yesterday. The threat of losing Hobbes had been a wake up call to how much they needed him. Besides the fact that he was possibly the best agent there, he was the only agent good enough to keep Fawkes out of trouble. They needed him, and they would now focus on trying to keep him. Especially now that other agencies would try to get him. Even as the Official thought this, it didn’t worry him. Hobbes was a good man, and he stuck to what he believed. Right now he seemed to believe in what he was doing with The Agency, and that was enough. END.
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This web site was created and designed by Lori Swanson, November 2000. BIG thanks to Beth
(Loganlover) for creating the
"Who is Bobby Hobbes" "Hobbes Dossier" and "Our Little
Tiger" pages! Great job!
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