Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Lancer.

Part One

Johnny was losing it.

Three weeks at Lancer, part of it spent recovering from Pardee's fun and games, the other part being immersed in what made up the Lancer Wildlife Preserve and Lancer, Inc. First part was enough to drive him crazy with being told what he could do and when to do it. The second was pushing him over the edge with what he was responsible for and how he was expected to handle it.

The preserve – Murdoch's pride and joy – was immense and complicated. The multi-corporation was immense and complicated. Johnny couldn't wrap his mind around it all.

As for getting to know his family, well, he was no further along then when he arrived at Lancer. Murdoch was confusing, like the man wasn't sure what to do with Johnny. Teresa was everywhere and trying too hard to make like a happy family. Scott – he still didn't know anything about Scott. He hadn't seen much of Scott.

Johnny's afternoon had been mapped out for him. He was to attend some board meeting where he and Scott were to be introduced to the members and something about a vote. Suits and ties were expected.

Christ, suits and ties. When did that happen?

Right now it was a little after eight in the morning. Feeling stifled, Johnny grabbed his camera bag and headed out of the hacienda. Seeing an unknown 4x4 parking in the driveway, he came to a halt on the front step. A tall lanky man left the vehicle and Johnny grinned, recognizing the driver.

"Wes!"

Spinning around, Wes headed his direction, his hand reaching out. "Ha, I was wondering if I'd find you."

Shaking his hand, Johnny asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Cowboys & Indians magazine offered me freelance job for some shots of wild horses in California." Wes rocked back on his heels and threw his arms out wide. "Word around is that you landed here, so I thought I'd look you up."

"Caught me just in time." Johnny grinned, remembering more than a few rowdy locations where their paths had crossed. "You ready to go now? I was heading out to try my new gear, and the preserve has a few of those horses you're looking for."

Wes gave him a critical look. "Jesus, you're about ready to jump outta your skin. How long's it been?"

Since Mexico.

"Too long. Lost my equipment and was out of commission for awhile."

"Sounds like a story. You can catch me up while we find ourselves some horses."

~#~#~#~

It was the difference in Johnny's voice that drew Murdoch into the great room. He couldn't deny his curiosity, and it grew when he saw the stranger with him. Although, it was clear he was no stranger to Johnny. His son's body language alone told him this was someone he was comfortable with.

The Lancers themselves hadn't settled into that level of relaxation yet.

Murdoch went to the French doors, pleased that his leg was holding up. Physical therapy, far too early in the morning, had been rough. At the time of what felt like the hundredth knee bend, he was certain he would never walk again.

He walked through the open doors. "Johnny?"

Johnny turned around, the smile on his face dimming a little. "Hey, Murdoch, this is a friend of mine, Wes Gammon. Wes, this is my father, Murdoch Lancer."

"Fath…" Wes sent Johnny a sidelong look before he held out his hand. "It's great to meet you, Mr. Lancer."

Murdoch wondered if he'd ever become used to that reaction. He took the offered hand and allowed that Johnny's friend knew how to do a handshake. "You too, Mr. Gammon."

"Wes, please." Gammon seemed an amiable type, but Murdoch felt uneasy. Perhaps a little threatened to have an old friend enter the mix when they as a family hadn't even had time to adjust.

"Murdoch, then."

"Will do."

Johnny held up his camera bag. "Haven't had a chance yet to test this out. Wes and I are just heading out."

Damn it, he didn't want to destroy the good mood Johnny was in, but… "How long are you planning to be gone?"

Wariness crossed Johnny's face. "Why?"

"A couple things have come up. I'm sorry." Murdoch hated to disappoint Johnny. He knew his son had reached and surpassed the limits of 'stir crazy' a week ago.

"What things?"

"We need to meet with the lawyer before the board meeting this afternoon. You and Scott need to be briefed on a few things before then. There are also some contracts we need to discuss after that."

Johnny looked down at the bag in his hand. "What time?"

"Eleven o'clock, still time enough for the two of you to catch up, and, Wes, you are more than welcome to stay here." He could give Johnny that much.

Wes gave a nod. "Appreciate that."

"Eleven, huh?" Johnny looked back at Wes. "Wes, I just need to grab my watch."

"Wait, take this." Murdoch didn't know what processed him. Johnny wouldn't even know it for the apology it was, but he pulled his great-grandfather's pocket watch from his shirt pocket and snapped it open. "It's old." He closed it again. "But it's still a good timepiece. Keep it." He tossed the watch to Johnny.

Catching it, Johnny looked at the antique, studying it.

Murdoch should let his son know the history. "I…um…"

Johnny looked puzzled. "What?"

"Nothing, I'll see you later. Be ready at ten-thirty, Scott'll be waiting for you." Murdoch felt like an idiot, but he couldn't explain what the pocket watch meant and the history behind it with Wes Gammon looking on. There would be another time: A better one. He turned back and headed inside.

~#~#~#~

That was different. Slipping the watch into his jean pocket, Johnny looked out at the hills in the distance.

"Maybe we should do this later, Johnny. Seems like you have a busy day ahead of you. The horses aren't going anywhere."

"It's not about the horses, Wes."

Gripping Johnny's arm, Wes said, "I must be missin' somethin' somewhere."

"Come on, let's go. Don't have a lot of time."

~#~#~#~

Sam Stryker watched through the binoculars as the truck left the main house. "Looks like the younger son just left with someone."

"How we doing this?"

Sam looked over to David. "For now, we'll watch for an opportunity."

Things were tight and they needed a quick influx of cash to make it into next month. If they had to, they would steal it, but that wasn't as satisfying as some rich man or woman handing over cash to avoid scandal or inconvenience.

In the back seat, Eli rolled down the window. "Man, look at this place. It just screams money and lots of it."

From the research Sam had done, Murdoch Lancer had enough to spare and the Strykers had the need.

~#~#~#~

This part of the Lancer Preserve was barren and wild. And Johnny loved it.

"Would you look at that."

Johnny grinned, understanding Wes' breathless tone. The herd was sweeping in a graceful curve down in the valley and they had ringside seats on the ridge. Telephoto lenses were out and there was a fast click of the shutter as picture after picture was snapped.

This is what made it all worth it. Didn't matter how long the wait, how rough the travel. To catch that perfect shot made the rest a moot point. Right now, Johnny knew what he had was good, and it didn't matter if these photos never graced the glossy pages of a magazine. With a camera in hand, he felt at home.

And there wasn't anything better.

Wes lowered his camera as the herd moved off. "The magazine wants one of a horse rearing. I don't think that's gonna happen with them on the run."

Johnny started packing up his gear. "We can follow in the truck for part of the way. Maybe they'll stop by the river and we'll have better luck."

"Sounds good. These are some great shots!" Wes shouldered his camera bag and they headed to where they left the truck. "So, a father?"

"Yeah, I was just as surprised as you."

"Johnny, you rarely spoke about your birth father and what you did say wasn't anything I'd repeat in polite company."

Johnny slid a glance to Wes and saw open concern. "Found out my mom twisted the truth some. She left Murdoch taking me with her to hook up with my stepfather. Murdoch didn't kick us out."

Wes grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. "And so a couple of decades go by and what?"

"Murdoch was looking for me the entire time."

"Shit, Johnny, are you sure? It isn't like your mom is around to refute this."

Johnny had wondered that same thing. "Wes, I have a brother, an older brother. Mom never said a word about him. She never had me use the name of Lancer. I have a birth certificate with the last name Madrid and a different social security number than the one I had after I was born. We're still cleaning that up." Johnny pulled away to get into the truck.

Once Wes was behind the wheel, he turned to Johnny. "An older brother – how?"

"Different mother - Murdoch's first wife. I don't know much about her except that she died soon after Scott was born." Johnny concentrated on his fingers running over the strap of his camera bag. "I did some checking, the guy that found me – and pulled me out of a tight spot – was on the job for about five years. He said my case was old."

Wes started the truck and kept it to a slow speed. "Man, that's…hell, I don't know what to say." Wes darted a look in Johnny's direction. "And your brother, Scott?" Johnny nodded. "He's been around - "

"No, he didn't know any more about me than I did him."

"And that works, how?"

"No idea. I'd like to know what happened there. Murdoch didn't raise Scott any more, actually less, than he did me. Scott was raised by his mother's family. I have a feeling Scott thought the same as me, that Murdoch didn't want him. There's a hell of a lot more going on there than I can figure out."

"Shit, what a mess. Sorry, man, it's, well, that's quite a story."

"Tell me about it. I have no idea what to do with either of them."

"Family life not all it's cracked up to be?"

"Most days I feel like I'm losing my mind. This staying in one place, part ownership in multimillion dollar corporations, and family? What do I know about any of that?" Johnny looked out the side window.

"You thinking of leaving?"

"It's crossed my mind more than once. We tip-toe around each other not knowing what the hell to say to each other. We talk business or horses." Johnny waved his hand at the land around them. "Or about this preserve." He let his hand flop down to his lap. "And that's actually okay since what else would we talk about?"

~#~#~#~

As the second box of basement files was hoisted to his chest, a vague notion that he ought to leave the rest to his brother flitted across Scott's mind. So it came as a relief that his BlackBerry rang. Until he saw who. Scott debated on whether or not to answer his phone, but putting it off wouldn't make it any easier. A quick glance around revealed he was alone.

"Hello, Grandfather."

"Scotty, why are you in California?"

"Grandfather, if you know I'm in California, you know exactly where I am and why."

"I do. I'm disappointed that you didn't tell me yourself."

Scott felt a smidgeon of guilt for that. "I didn't want to distress you. You've never said a kind word about Murdoch."

"There are none to say."

"I've found out differently."

"What has he told you?"

Scott's eyebrows rose at the harsh tone. "About what?"

"Has he explained what happened with my daughter?" And there was that old underlying grief in his tone.

"We haven't talked about her. I'm not sure if we will."

"He doesn't have the right to speak of her after what he has done."

After meeting Murdoch, Scott's thinking had opened up to include the idea that his grandfather wasn't unbiased when it came to Catherine Garret marrying Murdoch Lancer. From what he had gleaned from his grandfather's comments, his mother made up her own mind and married against her father's wishes. As far as Harlan was concerned, it led to her death. And this conversation would degenerate further if he didn't change the topic.

"I'm remaining out here for a time."

"You have responsibilities here."

"And what are they?"

"You have your role with Garrett Financial!"

Scott pulled the phone away from his ear and looked heavenward. "It's a token job at best and one I am easily doing from a distance. I doubt anyone even realizes I'm not in Boston."

"That's not good enough, Scotty. We have upcoming meetings that you will be expected to attend."

"And what's to prevent me from attending? Half the group teleconferences in. I have the meetings on my calendar and I will be there." Scott heard voices in the background.

"Scotty, I have a meeting about to start. This conversation is far from over."

"I don't doubt that, Grandfather. All I'm asking for is some time to get to know my father… and my brother."

"That drifter!" A chill went up Scott's spine. "You can do better things with your time, Scotty. You'll see. We'll talk soon."

The call ended and Scott stared at his phone. His grandfather knew about Johnny? For how long?

TBC