AN: Tim & Jason. Takes place in S3, New York New York. These characters are not mine.

That night in the city after Gypsy, Six and I hit up Shea's Tavern on the way back to our hotel. The show'd cheered him up some, despite him thinkin' I was nuts for wanting to go.

We did a few rounds of pints and chasers, both drowning our sorrows and celebrating what good he hoped would come the next day or two, when he'd make a hail Mary for a job with the sports agent, and then with any luck, go to Erin's to tell her he was moving north.

These two gals at the bar even bought us a round once they heard we were from Texas. They thought that was hot. Hey, whatever works.

Yup, we were pretty plastered, although of course I wasn't nearly as gone as Six, what with my hollow beer leg.

I pushed his chair to the hotel. One thing I'd never thought about is that the city ain't the worst place to be in a chair, with elevators most everywhere. Even in Dillon—where everything's pretty flat—for Six to get in and out of his truck is a pain in the ass. (Sorry Six. Tacky.) Not in the city though.

Jay was rambling incoherently when I moved him to his bed. He's a big guy, and when he's emotional and hammered, it's like moving a couple bags of concrete mix at the same time.

Six, hang on buddy, I said as he grabbed his chair. To me. He released the chair and hugged me tight. Jesus Jay Six, you never could hold your liquor, could you?

I got him onto the bed, took off my jacket. Let's get you outta these clothes so you can go to bed, Six. I managed to take off his jacket and shirt. I'd dealt with his leg bag before, so I knew what to do.

Sorry bout this crap, Timmy… he said, waving toward the bag. He rambled on, hiccuping, til I'd finally gotten him stripped to his boxers. I was cracking up cause he was just babblin' by then.

His arms around my neck, I lowered him onto his pillow. 'Kay Six, let go. He tipped his head against mine, and finally released his grip.

Tim. He looked deadly serious and sober, suddenly.

You need to know something, Timmy. He pulled away and shot me a look of intensity and, I'm pretty sure, desire.

Thought he was gonna say something crazy. But he didn't say anything, at least not right away.

He gestured toward his bed. I looked at him sideways and he half-smiled.

As I got to my feet, he frowned. I think he was worried that I was cutting off what I suspected he was about to do.

After he saw I was just taking off my boots and gettin' a little whiskey from the minibar, he grinned.

We split a shot. Bottoms up, he said, giving me a wink.

He lay back, and I sat down next to him. He rolled over, slid his hand into my shirt (half snapped, like usual) and tried to pull me close, but I guess I'm heavier than he was used to. Christ Riggs, you're like a sack of lead.

You should talk Six, you're like a fuckin' load of Sakrete!

I cracked a laugh, and then he followed. We started laughing uncontrollably. When one of us'd stop, the other'd start giggling a second later.

We went on that way for some five minutes. It felt good, easing the tension in the small room.

He took a deep breath, exhaling sort of dramatically. Here it comes, I thought. Hoped, even.

Hell. Chuff. I… I really care about you, Tim.

'Course, Six. You know I love you like a brother, like I've said…

Yeah, but… Timmy… I love you, but I'm… I'm in love with you. He said it slow, then checked my eyes.

Have been for a long time now. Needed to tell you before my life changes for good.

It was my turn to take a deep breath, filling my cheeks and emptying them.

Christ, Six. What about Erin?

Yeah. Big sigh. I'm going to be with Erin now. And Noah. I'll love him like any other father… more. Because he's a frikkin' miracle.

And Erin's a good person, and I'll be there for her. Hell, she's the mother of my son. But it'll never be like what I have with you.

He pulled my head to his and slowly kissed me on the lips. I was too shocked to react right away.

And I was surprised at how softly he kissed. I'd never thought about it, but it wasn't what I expected.

And Garrity? I never seen a guy so sure he loved someone as you her…

Yeah. Lyla, Jay scoffed. Ever since we were in like sixth grade, our parents were friends, so we played together, started dating a couple years later.

Then everyone expected us to get married. Even us. I'd heard it repeated so much that I convinced myself it was destiny.

Then the accident threw everything up in the air. It took me awhile, but I realized nothing's written in stone. And after you and Lyla… he trailed off.

I looked away. Listen Jay, I never apologized… that was wrong. Dead wrong.

Timmy – it's hard to realize this, but you helped me see that being with Lyla wasn't meant to be, in the end. You did me a solid. Plus, I gave you a black eye, remember?

Anyway, you and I'd spent so much time together, and I felt really happy whenever I was with you. Even when you were in one of your moods. The many moods of Riggins.

I grinned. Fuck, Six. I… But I realized I'd felt the same way for a long time too, that I chased girls cause I was supposed to, and it was easy.

I'd even pursued Lyla relentlessly because once the ball was set in motion, that was the only logical ending. (I also tend to get obsessed with things.)

Riggs. He drew my mouth to his again, this time deeper, wetter. I gave in to him.

I felt this huge ecstatic rush. He knew how I felt, even if I didn't. Always had.

Jesus, no wonder Garrity liked you… good kisser, I laughed. I knew there had to be a reason.

He punched my shoulder.

Watch the goods Six, we still got games left!

Took off my shirt, drew him in, and rolled with things, since I'd never been with a guy, let alone a paraplegic.

How was it? Let's just say it was a night filled with memories—epic memories—and not much sleep.

And no matter what happened, we'd always have Times Square. No regrets.