"You're telling me that wasn't political, what you did back there?" F.B.I. Special Agent David Sinclair yelled at his partner.
"David, calm down," Special Agent Colby Granger said as he watched others look their way.
"Answer the question," Sinclair demanded.
"No, David, it was not political," Granger replied heatedly.
"Ah, I can't talk to you right now," David countered as he stormed to their car.
"David!" Granger called. Sinclair kept moving. "David," Colby called again as he jogged to catch up with his friend.
"What?"
"Look, all that was, back there, was by the book. He turned, aimed at us, with intent."
"You don't know. . ." David started, but Colby wouldn't let him finish.
"That's right. I didn't know, and neither did you. And I couldn't take that chance, because no matter how much you sympathized with the guy, it wasn't worth your life for me to find out."
Sinclair's anger seemed to suddenly grow quiet. Granger could only feel it now, seething, rather than the in-his-face explosive nature of David's bearing just moments earlier.
"You seemed. . ." David started again, but then thought better of continuing.
"I seemed what?" Colby challenged. They were finished with their work for the night, at least the part in the field. The body had been removed, forensics was in collection-mode, and all that was left for the partners was to head back to the office and get their reports started. When cases went this late at night, they were still expected to head to the F.B.I. headquarters for, at minimum, a brain dump of all that'd gone on. The writing of the report, including corroborating evidence identification, would be done as their first order of official business on the next work day, which lately seemed to be every day.
"Overly prepared to shoot the man," David said accusingly.
"I have fast reflexes." David and Colby stared each other down. David had hoped to hear something more. . .something else from his partner.
"That's not what I meant."
"Well, I'll tell ya this, David. I was certainly overly prepared to protect you and defend myself. It's what I was trained to do."
"And you don't think that maybe he was just a little suicidal up there?" Sinclair demanded, his voice rising once more, enough this time so that most every law enforcement officer on the ground had taken notice.
"No, David," Colby responded calmly. "I think he was a lot suicidal. It was a volatile situation. You weren't getting through to him."
"And you didn't try."
"I'll just mark that one up to selective hearing, partner," Colby replied, disappointed that his friend would see the difficult encounter in this way. "But to be honest, I didn't need to get through to him. I needed to do what I did. I regret that it came to this, but I do not regret that you and I came out of this unscathed." They continued to stare at one another until David gave in and bowed his head, swiping his hand across weary eyes. Colby knew that this case had been a hard one, putting the partners at odds more than once. "Look, let's get back to the office, write this up, and go get something to eat. We can talk more then." When they both had time to cool down remained unsaid.
*****
Sinclair and Granger had finished what they could on their reports, deciding to take the semi-finished paperwork with them to work through final details while they ate. They checked with their other teammates to see if they wanted to join them for a late dinner.
"Sure," Liz Warner said, sounding as down about the outcome of this case as David and Colby did. "Nikki'll be back in just. . ."
"I'm back."
"We're heading to get something to eat," Liz explained.
"Okay." Again, no real enthusiasm.
"Is Nick's okay for you?" Colby asked. He and David had already talked about some good home-cooked food, and Nick's Diner never failed to deliver. Both men had agreed that after a case like this one, something comforting was in order.
"Yeah, that's fine. We'll meet you there?" Liz asked.
"See you there." All four agents walked toward the elevator in silence.
As David trailed Colby to the car he called, "Hey, Granger."
Colby stopped and turned, waiting for his partner to catch up the couple of strides he was in the lead. "Hm?" he asked.
"Yeah, look, I wanted to apologize, for what I said to you before. I was way out of line. I just wasn't thinking straight. I was hoping. . .well. . ." Sinclair put his head down, seeming suddenly fascinated with his shoes.
"I was hoping for the same thing," Granger noted.
"I know you were." David raised his head and told is friend, "I can't believe that I said those things. It was like, I don't know." He shook his head and looked to his friend for the answer.
"You needed to vent, and I was handy. What is it they say, You always hurt the one you love?"
David laughed sadly. "That makes it even worse, doesn't it?"
Colby shrugged. "I'm pretty thick skinned, David."
David Sinclair looked at his best friend, and knew that some of the reason why Colby Granger had a thicker skin these days was due to how he'd been treated after the Janus List revelation. Specifically, how he had treated Colby. It had taken the senior agent far too long to realize Granger's innocence, to accept Granger back, even after every other member of the team had welcomed him, with close to open arms. It didn't feel good to David that what he'd said to Colby earlier this night reminded him so much of how he'd treated the man after the Chinese spy affair was over. That he could treat him like that after Colby had nearly died in his efforts to expose truly treasonous men and acts was something for which, to this day, David still felt shame.
"David, come on. Let's go eat. We'll talk it through with the girls, see if maybe they've got clearer heads about this than we do."
"Yeah, let's do that.
"Good."
"Hey Granger, you better hope Liz and Nikki never find out that you call them that."
"They won't hear it from me," Colby said as he unlocked the car's doors. He looked across the roof of the car to his F.B.I. cohort. David smiled.
"They'll never hear it from me, partner."
They might not still agree on politics, not all of the time, but they agreed on most things that mattered. That sense, that feeling of being simpatico with one another is what made them good agents, and great partners. One thing they both knew was if they were going to be politically incorrect, they'd be sure to do it out of earshot of pretty women who sported guns.
The End.