Landfall - 20. Here We Come!

Dave's stalking around our room like a caged tiger.

“I can't believe he set us up like that! There's more to this, dammit...Sid wouldn't do that. There's a motive from higher up that's at work here. Shit....”

Never seen Dave so totally lose control like this. Face red, eyes look like they could burn holes in anything in their path; he's just a bundle of energy ready to explode in a fireball that'll wipe out anything in its way.

“Sid has always been the most stand-up guy I know. When we met he was bureau chief in San Diego after starting out only seven years earlier. He was the youngest in that position in the history of the Bureau. He's always been direct and honest, and he's always seemed to really like me. And when Keith died, he was the first to call, the first to come around, give me a hug, and tell me it was going to be ok. And when his wife died a few years ago, I tried to be there for him just as much. I really don't get it.”

“Look, Dave, if this is the way it is, it's the way it is. We just need to sit down, think through the options, and figure out what's best for us.”

Dave looks like I've hosed him down with ice water. Total calm now, totally focused on me.

“What'd ya say?”

“I said, we just need to think through the options and figure out what's best for us. I'm sure that if we think it through we can make something work here.”

“Barry, you said us.” He's looking at me with a sense of wonder, shock, and...well, don't know the emotion that's there. “You're going to make a decision about your life based on what's best for us?”

“Of course, you big lug of a lawman. You're a part of my life now. I'm not going anywhere without knowing you're there. We haven't had a chance to talk lately about us, but I realized after the chat with Doc today that there's no one else I want in my life. We just haven't had a chance to talk. Despite my sometimes paranoia, I know where I am with you—I really do know how you feel about me. And I'm not going to do anything to change that. So let's sit down, cut through the bullshit, and figure out what we need to do with our future and the options.”

Dave walks over, drops to a knee beside my chair, grabs my hand, looks me in the eyes. “Like...a future...with us?”

I smile. “Yes. You are my future, all the rest is a work-around.”

In one move, Dave grabs me in a bear hug, lifts me out of my chair, and waltzes around the room, my feet barely touching the floor. Lets out a whoop that rattles the windows.

'Baby, you know I love you—and I've been ready to commit to long term but didn't want to push ya. You've made me the happiest bastard alive!” The megawatt smile on his face is positively blinding, eyes moist and electric.

“Put me down ya big lug—you may be strong, but you aren't that strong; I don't want you to throw your back out.”

Puts me down, leans in and gives a kiss that takes my breath away. “Damn, Barry, you've caught me so off guard with this—I don't know what to say, other than I love you more than I thought I could love someone. I can't think about a life without you, and now I know you're right there with me on that. Helluva day! First the career options, now we're a long-term couple.”

“Yup, it has been a helluva day.” I'm grinning as much as—and just as happy as--he is. “Now, let's figure out what we're going to do.”

Sat down, grabbed a pad, and started thinking, making notes. Dave's just looking at me. “I'm so emotionally wired now, Barry, I don't know how you can do that. Let's wait on that—I wanna make love to my man.” He looks like a little kid on Christmas morning in front of a pile of presents.

“Nope. Gonna have some discipline here, Dave. This is important. We know where we stand with each other, now just need to figure out the next best step. So let's talk.”

Spent the next hour or so going over our options: Billings, New Orleans, how we could make the relationship work depending on Dave's career path with each option.

Still no closer to a decision after all this time.

“Do you really think Sid was trying to steer you and me to New Orleans, Dave? Or was he just being overly analytical of the situation?”

“Don't know. I'd like to think he's got my best interests at heart, but he seemed pretty determined to present New Orleans in the best light. You know, maybe I can put in a few phone calls to some buddies in other locations, see what they think about the New Orleans office. Find out what they may know about what's going on.”

“Do that. The extra intel may help. And, there's another option Sid didn't mention, and I didn't think about 'till just now: We say 'no' to both Billings and New Orleans, and have the Bureau find another option. Don't misunderstand, I like that I've finally got something of a future in front of me—I've been kinda drifting since all this started—but there's nothing that says these are the only options out there.”

“Ok...I'll call a few buddies now. But, it's a little after 6pm, and I'm starved. Can we get cleaned up, and go out for dinner? I can get in a couple of calls while you're in the shower, Barry.”

“Agreed. I'm suddenly hungry, too. Heading for the shower now.” I grab a clean pair of boxer briefs and head away.

Out a few minutes later, toweling off, naked, still mostly wet. Dave comes in naked, grabs me, kisses me. Tongues battle it out, and he wins—damn, can my man kiss! We're both hard when Dave pulls away.

“Nice way to get out of the shower, Dave. Hell, the last time we were in the shower together was so fucking hot, it still makes me hard thinking about it.”

“Me, too, B. And I can't tell ya how it makes me feel knowing there's a lot more ahead. In fact, ….” He nods toward the shower, cocks an eyebrow up, gives me a lewd grin.

“Nope, not right now, Dave. You're hungry, remember?”

“Yup, hungry for you.” He smiles and kisses me again. “Ok, ok, I'll be good. You get dressed, I'll be out in a minute. Besides, you know I'm faster in the shower than you.” He smiles. “Go get dressed. We'll head out for dinner in a few minutes.”

Buttoning my shirt, Dave comes out with a towel wrapped around his waist. The fur on his chest and belly is damp/slick, water dripping from his combed wet hair and freshly shaved face, strong runner's legs with big hairy thighs peeking out from the towel that's barely hanging on. Shit, he's a hot fucker. I can only stare. Certain I'm drooling just looking at him.

“Come on, Barry, get your jaw off the floor. I'm not going anywhere. Let's grab dinner,” as he quickly pulls on underwear, kakhi shorts, and a button-down long- sleeve shirt, rapidly rolling up the sleeves. Shoving his 9mm piston in its holster into the waistband of the shorts underneath the shirt tail, he steps into a pair of topsiders, smiles, and he's ready to go. Yeah, his professional side is only moments away if needed—and if fills me with confidence in his quality and in his protectiveness of me.

Our dinner was at one of the first places we ate here—was it only three months ago?--a surf and turf place. Got a great steak, grilled oysters as appetizers. I'm feeling great—better than I have in days. Having a project for me to work on is a good thing. Maybe things are coming together. And don't think it's the little pills that Doc left at the front desk for me that I took on the way out.

Over dinner, had to ask. “What'd ya find out with your phone calls?”

Dave just shakes his head. “Man, you're a bulldog on this stuff. You aren't letting this go for a minute, are ya? Wish some of the agents I've worked with were this determined.”

“Yup, this is important to me, Dave. It's a chance to finalize us, to really shape the future we both want—and we've got a big say in how it goes. So spill—what'd ya find out?”

“I talked with a buddy in Atlanta and another in St. Louis. Both of 'em were really closed-mouthed on New Orleans. My Atlanta buddy said something big was going on there, and there wasn't the usual inter-agency chatter going on. My buddy in St. Louis said he couldn't talk about it. I pushed pretty hard, but got nothing out of him. Put in a call to a buddy in Chicago, and left a voice mail, so figure he'll call tomorrow.

“Now, it's my turn, Bulldog—changing subjects completely. How are ya feeling? Are you comfortable working with Doc? I know you're ok with me, but are ya making progress with everything else?”

Suddenly defensive for a second—but know this is genuine concern from a man who loves me no holds barred. “Bulldog?” Laugh at the new nickname.

“Yeah, I'm making progress. Still have some work to do, but don't think I'm gonna have a major emotional scene or anything—I'm feeling far more in control than I was. One of the things that helped was that Doc brought a printout of the projected face the plastic surgeon had done for us back in the hotel room in Dallas. He made me stand in front of a plate glass window, and look at my reflection and compare it to the picture. And yeah, the face matches the projection. Guess I was in a bad place, and when I saw myself in the doctor's office here after having the stitches out...well, I can blame my funk on a lot of things, but it was me.”

Dave holds up his hands in a stop motion, a look of alarm on his face. “Look, you don't need to tell me what goes on with you and Doc.”

“I know, but you need to know this.

“The biggest struggle I'm dealing with is the boys. There's not a day that goes by I don't think about 'em. Wondering what they're doing. Wondering about the little challenges and the big ones they're dealing with that maybe I could help make better.

“I've tried to think about 'em as being dead—yeah, it's sick, but I thought maybe I could accept that they're gone. It hasn't worked. I know they're out there, I know they could use me, and I'm fucking helpless. I'll never see 'em again. Still wrestling with losing 'em.”

Stop, clear my throat of its lump. A tear pirouettes down Dave's cheek.

“I'm kinda coming to terms with Jackie's death. It was an accident—a horrible, horrible accident. It should have been me. It was caused by me. But the fact is, I was the target—not Jackie. And that bullet that had my name on it got her by mistake. Even just one minor change in any of the variables that night would have changed the outcome.

“And lemme say this, Dave: I'd known her since the early college days. I loved her. I miss her. She was the mother of my boys. She helped me build a great life in Dallas. And she gave me the consistency I needed to be good at my job. But, she's gone. And, it's totally different from the love I have for you. No comparison. You aren't being measured against a memory.

“I really think it's gonna get better once we get to a place we can put down some roots, have some solid ground under our feet. No more endless string of hotel rooms, and eating out every meal. Having our own place to do with what we please. Making friends that will maybe last a lifetime. Guess that's why I'm such a bulldog on this decision. There's a big future out there riding on this for us.”

Suddently exhausted after going over the last three months. Quietly, “and that's where I am, Dave.”

Silence. Crickets chirping. No air remaining in the room.

I've just scared the shit out of him

Dave wipes tears from his eyes and off his cheeks. Lets out a breath; didn't realize he'd been holding it. Gives a look that provides both sympathy and strength.

In a hoarse whisper, “I knew it was tough on you, Barry, but guess I really hadn't thought through just how tough it was. I'd been too damned focused on just dealing with things day by day. You are a fucking bulldog—you've hung in and done a damn fine job holding things together over the last three months. You're a strong, solid guy who knows himself—and I'm so happy and proud and, well...honored that you love me.” He grabs my hand across the table.

“Let's get out of here, Bulldog. I wanna hold my man,“ as he pulls me forward for a kiss.

Never kissed a guy in a restaurant before and damn if it isn't a fucking thrill.

Back in our room, in bed, lights off, talking like an old married couple, cuddling and soft kisses in the dark providing enough intimacy at the moment.

“Ya know, Dave, the more I think about it, the more I'm thinking 'fuck it'. We can drive ourselves crazy overthinking this; besides, Sid seems to have done a lot of that for us. Let's just do New Orleans. It's good for your career; it'll give me an interesting job, if nothing else; and, it'll let us be together. Let's sleep on it tonight, then decide tomorrow. Things are gonna start happening fast and if we decide, we can at least enjoy the weekend here. What do ya say?”

Long breath in the dark. “Ok, we'll talk about it tomorrow, Bulldog.”

Wake the next morning, Dave's not in the room. Shower, head down to grab a bagel and coffee, relax by the pool. Make a few notes about things to be done to get set up in New Orleans—I'll go over those with Sid and Dave later. Dave walks up shirtless, sweaty, running shorts and shoes on.

“Had to go run on the beach, Bulldog, needed to clear the head. And, yeah, I'm game for New Orleans if you are.” Leans in and kisses me. “Maybe this is as much of a win-win situation as we think it is.”

“You gonna keep calling me Bulldog?” I grin to let him know I'm really not pissed at the nickname. “I have been known to bite.”

“I'm counting on that...at least in selected places on selected occasions.” Dave grins back big.

“Go get cleaned up, ya big lug. Come on down after, grab coffee, we'll call Sid. And, let's plan dinner and dancing tonight with Jonathan and Greg—hell, Sid, too—to celebrate getting our own town!” Before I know it, we're giggling like school kids. Dave kisses me again, spins me around, and pushes so both of us end up in the pool.

A hot wet kiss ensues amid splashing and laughter—and the deal is sealed.

New Orleans here we come.

And now to the shower—with Dave.