I had my feet up on the dash and the seat shoved back as far as I could manage, still barely enough for my long legs, but it allowed me to slouch down just enough to catch a doze, which I had failed at miserably even though the stake out had become boring as fuck. I'd finished my book two hours ago and Hobbes hadn't said more than two words to me since we'd parked here just after oh-six-hundred.

I felt like crap. The scotch adventure had given me a hangover of epic proportions that had seemingly decided to remind me of my stupidity even days later. Hobbes's cold shoulder hadn't helped much either. Yeah, I get he was upset about the deaths, but he wasn't alone in that.

We needed a vacation, a chance to clear our heads without the shadow of yet more work that would do little else than remind us that we might be the next to get killed with little or no warning. Yeah, the job could be dangerous, we all knew that, but we hadn't lost an agent since Arnaud had escaped.

And to think it had been Arnaud who had set the Agency on this current path, one that had turned my friend back into a baby-sitter following my every move because a few meets had gone wrong. Horribly wrong in the case of the most recent one… and I was no closer to getting my hands on Arnaud.

I didn't really blame Bobby, I mean, I was a thief after all and made no bones about that fact.

But… until recently, until this undercover job, I hadn't felt quite so alone. Hobbes'd had my back no matter what, but lately it felt more like he was just waiting for me to fall, for any excuse to toss about blame and accusations, and since I always walked away unscathed little wonder the finger pointing had turned to me.

But only from Bobby.

The Official just continued to rake in the extra cash and smile about it. Oh, he'd made all the right noises at the funerals, but that had been it. No call to cut the job short, no interest in pushing further to actually get to Arnaud, and that made Bobby even more paranoid than usual.

See, what Bobby didn't know and that I knew, thanks to a bit of invisible snooping was exactly how much the 'Fish had actually been siphoning off and how little of it made it into the pockets of the agents working for him. As in lots and none. And while I admit to not really giving a hang about the others, I did care about Bobby. And, based on the last few weeks, he had to be about ready to get out of the spy business, and he would be unable to on the pitiful pension he'd slaved away for his whole career. No, scratch that, he needed to get out. He was tired and had never really recovered from the wounds inflicted at that fateful meeting with Rick-the-beard.

He'd never admit it of course, not wanting to be forced into retirement, but both me and the Keep could see it.

The spirit remained willing, but the body…

So, in the spirit of never bailing on your partner I'd upped my little rainy day fund project with the idea of taking Hobbes with me when I ran. He'd resist at first, but once parked on a beach with frilly drinks complete with umbrellas and all the perfect female flesh we could handle he'd relax, perhaps for the first time since we'd met.

Hell, I had enough stashed away that we could run now, but two things kept me here: Hobbes saying no and the need to dish out a little vengeance on Arnaud's smarmy person before I took off.

I'd left enough unfinished business in my life, this one time I intended to follow through. I just need to get my partner back first.

But that meant coming clean about my plans.

The threat of the Madness had never made me feel quite so abandoned and alone as I had for the last several months. Yeah, I'd been doing a lot of off the books work in my efforts to draw out Arnaud - with no success, mind you - and to do that I'd shut Bobby out a bit, not that that had been hard given the way he'd shoved me aside since being declared fit for duty. He'd be forced to tell the 'Fish and then I'd be back in a jail cell, or worse the padded room until I'd learned my lesson and chose to behave again.

Any agent could play the part of the Arnaud's front man thanks to the way we'd set things up. The only reason I'd gotten the role is because I'd pushed for it, insisted on it, and the fact that The Agency had an unlimited cash cow till the little shit got caught didn't hurt, and had been the leverage I'd used to get him let me do this.

Arnaud was mine. No way in hell I would let anyone else arrest him. Not that arrest was my plan. No, I wanted to literally bust him. As in to pieces. Wanted to get my hands on him, around his throat, to squeeze until his legs twitched their last and his eyes went lifeless as I watched.

Hobbes wouldn't want any part of that.

Bobby might just help.

Trouble was, I couldn't ask Bobby without Hobbes overhearing.

Yes, I knew they were the same person.

Didn't change the fact that I didn't know which one of them I could trust.

Next to me Hobbes sighed heavily and knocked me out of my close eyed musings. Not quite asleep, but gone enough to look over everything a bit dispassionately. Plus the sunlight hurt like a bitch even with the dark sunglasses on.

"Fawkes, what is up with you lately?"

I twitched. I honestly thought he hadn't noticed given the grand snubbing he'd been giving me lately. "Nothing as usual."

Hobbes shook his head and lowered the binoculars he'd been staring out the windshield with for hours now, as unmoving as a statue.

I muttered imprecations under my breath, knowing I'd have to tell him something or he'd just start creating worst case scenarios in his head until he slapped a pair of cuffs on me and dragged me into the Agency for an impromptu interrogation. I saw his jaw clench and knew he wasn't going to let this go until I'd spilled something of importance, so to keep from telling him everything running through my head out of sheer frustration, I gave him something else to chew on. I mean it didn't have to be the heart of the issue, but hey, I wasn't exactly short on reasons to be moody these days.

"We lost three guys this week, Hobbes, and it made me realize I want more than just the Agency and the daily risk of death by high speed projectile. I want a life and I know there's no way for me to have one so long as I work for the Agency," I kept my voice soft, so he knew I was serious, which I was even if this particular gripe hadn't been the one I'd been spending most of my time brooding on.

"That the reason for the bender you went on?" He still hadn't turned to look at me, but it wasn't as if the evidence of my overindulgence couldn't easily be seen on my face.

I shrugged. "Yeah. Green had kids, a wife, parents who gave a damn and had no clue he was putting his life at risk for god and country." I turned away to gaze out at the boring view out the passenger window. "I ain't even got you these days."

Hobbes chose to ignore that shot across the bow and said, "No one said you can't have those things, Fawkes, but I ain't exactly seen you make any effort to find anyone." He fiddled with the binoculars then put them on the dashboard and turned to eye me, concerned at the gloomy turn the conversation had taken.

"Not that you've noticed," I muttered under my breath.

"Fawkes," he warned, his voice a low rumble that said he was quickly losing his patience with the subject.

"Look, it's not like I can really get into a relationship while what I can do is still top secret."

Hobbes blinked. "Uh, thought the Keep fixed the Madness problem?"

He truly sounded confused, which would've made me laugh except for the fact that he hadn't thought it all the way through sorta pissed me off.

"Hobbes," I said through gritted teeth. "Kinda hard to get my groove on when I disappear just as the fun begins."

A blatant lie, but he wouldn't know that.

Yeah, back in the bad old days with the Madness, it would have been an issue, and given I couldn't exactly practice my control without needing extra counteragent, which had never been allowed, I only experimented when needs demanded it, but once the toxin producing genes had been removed from the gland and I'd been one hundred percent certain I would no longer go Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs when I used too much Quicksilver, I practiced.

A lot.

Hell, it had taken a lot of practice to learn to control the Quicksilver enough to be able to do one eye at a time, to keep it under my clothes for the job, so I knew it would be possible to stay visible even through sex and, after a couple months, I'd taken the practice to live testing with very few issues. Yes, that did indeed mean I'd had sex, protected, of course , I'd learned my lesson with Allianora, but they'd been casual lays that served their purpose for the experiment I'd been conducting, but no more.

And, damn it, I wanted more.

I wanted someone to come home to at night. Someone I looked forward to waking up with the next morning, making breakfast for… or with.

Doing nothing but sitting, reading a book together, or heading out to shoot pool, or anything else we could enjoy as a couple.

But I had to be careful about sharing who I was without being to share what I was. I was tired of holding back. I wanted to be with someone who knew all of what I had been: thief, ex-con, spy, invisible man, and that liked me for me, flaws and all.

I didn't want a relationship based on lies. Not this time.

Even if I couldn't just tell all on the first date, or even the first night we slept together, or eventually after years together, be able to tell the truth of everything I had been or done, I still wanted the chance.

And that hadn't been possible since coming to the Agency.

Hobbes's eyebrows rose as he stared at me. "Really? Keep never mentioned that."

"Well, I should fucking hope not," I grouched.

Hobbes's lip twitched and I did my best death glare, just daring him to make some smartass comment on the subject.

He wisely chose not to push the envelope this time. "Doesn't mean you shouldn't try," he insisted. "You need more than just my handsome face for your after-hours fun."

Not that I'd had much of that lately. "No shit," I complained, "but with who, and more importantly, how?" I shook my head, hair falling into my eyes and I glanced at the floorboards between my feet. "I'm not an idiot, Hobbes. The only way for me to get a chance at something more is to get out of this business and since that can't happen until the gland is removed…" I shrugged. I knew the score, knew that the gland would only come out at the cost of my life. So, it would be one or the other: invisible man or dead man.

And if I was gonna die I would do it my way and take Arnaud out with me.

"Fawkes, what can I do to help? If you find the right girl, the Official could get her clearance. Low at first, but-"

"No, Hobbes, I would just put her in danger. The creeps we go after could use her to get to me." I sighed heavily, raising my head to meet my partner's concerned gaze. "No, so long as I'm here…"

Hobbes set a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Partner, I get, really. It's why covert agents have a cover persona."

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, too little too late in your case," he agreed. "I wish things could be different for you. Wish you could have your cake and eat it too. Hell, you deserve it, but this life is a hard one. And it's harder with a family."

"Yeah, I figured that out. Doesn't mean I don't want one," I grumbled, my attempt at distraction giving me a nasty case of the blues. Not what I wanted to deal with right now, but it happened now and then. Last time I'd slid down this particular slippery slope, gotten really low, I… well, it hadn't ended well.

"Fawkes, you ain't thinking of doing something stupid like running are you?"

Hobbes had moments when he got inside my head. He could be scarily perceptive, and truthfully, I had been contemplating it for a very long time now. Once I had enough money stashed away I could bail and they'd never see me again. New name, new place, and all the money I'd ever need at my invisible fingertips. Park my ass on a beach in Bali and enjoy the spoils of war… or thievery, if you prefer. One big heist a year would keep me flush and off the grid for the rest of my natural life.

"No... or no more than usual. Bobby, I can't be the invisible man for the rest of my life. It'll kill me one way or another, but I don't know how to be anything else." Christ, I hated knowing that, knowing that the job would kill me.

"Yeah, it probably will," Hobbes agreed sounding morose. "Me too. The odds are not exactly in my favor when it come to dodging bullets forever, my friend."

I snorted in dark amusement. He wasn't wrong. Even invisible I'd been shot more than a few times. "Nah, you're too stubborn to die."

He nodded. "True enough. I worry about you, partner. I know I was on the bench for a while, but I didn't think you'd fall this far without me."

I hadn't. I would need to fall a lot further for me to begin to worry. I'd done it before, taking that mental leap into misery and turned it into a physical one.

"I'm okay," I assure him, but it was obvious he didn't believe me.

"Liar," he muttered. "You're acting like you did a couple years ago, when you weren't talking to me. Remember?"

Of course I remembered. We'd had a mission end horribly wrong, not because we hadn't done our best - we all had - but we'd failed to save the day. Hell, even Monroe had taken a turn at drowning her sorrows with us.

Yeah, it had been that bad.

"Yes," I whispered, the pain, and frustration, and the hopelessness crashing in on me as I thought about it. I hadn't realized how deep the depression at my current reality ran. Suddenly, I wished the subject had stayed on the embarrassment of sex, or the lack thereof, rather than how shitty my life truly had become.

"I just don't want you doing something stupid to get out of the Agency, is all. No, it ain't all hearts and flowers, but we do some good work, and if things go well we'll have Arnaud off the board soon."

"Something stupid?" I question, and regret it almost immediately.

"Like deciding to end it, Fawkes. I don't want you to ever even think that."

"Too late on that score," slipped past my lips before I got the chance to censor myself.

Hobbes froze in place for a long moment then seemed to deflate. "When?" he asked, voice painfully tight.

"Couple years ago," I saw the recognition in his eyes. "After that mission," I admitted; with the cat out of the bag, why not? Besides it was kind of a relief to actually say the words, and I had no doubts he would keep it to himself. No tattling to Keepy or the 'Fish.

He rubbed his face in his hands. "How?" He glanced down at my wrists as if looking for scars.

He wouldn't find any. And even if I had gone that route I would have gone vertical, found the most prominent vein in my forearm and sliced up the length of it. Even if I'd been unable to do the second arm I would have bled out in minutes.

No, I had gone another route.

"Jumped off a bridge," I told him.

His eyes widened. "Which one?"

"Coronado," I shrugged.

"Fawkes," the glare was spotlight bright.

"Not the full two hundred feet, admittedly, but more than high enough to get the job done," I told him, but I could see he was still waiting for the punch line.

"No way you coulda gotten out that far without someone trying to stop you," he pointed out, that hint of disbelief hurting in ways I hadn't expected. Did I lie to my partner? Now and then. Did I hide things from him? Oh hell yes. Had to if my mad scheme would ever have a chance of working. But something like this? I couldn't lie even if I wanted to.

"Hobbes," I began tone sad, "how can they stop what they can't see?"

"Shit," he muttered as the truth sank in and hesitant, if sad, belief sank into him. "Then how are you here?"

I shrugged. "Not a clue. Went over the rail see-through, came to on shore with nothing but soggy clothes and few bruises for my trouble."

He grunted, eyes filled with pain. "I'm sorry."

"For what? It wasn't anything you did." None of the blame for what I had done, for how low I had fallen, or for my decision belonged to Bobby.

"For not seeing it."

"You weren't exactly at the top of your game at the time. That mission... it hit all of us hard and... and I wanted out. I was done and the Official wouldn't let me go."

"What do you mean 'wouldn't let you go'?"

I rubbed the back of my head certain this admission would not go over well. "I quit. Gave him six months to find some other sucker, but made certain he knew I wanted out."

"And he told you no."

I nodded. "Said I couldn't leave till he got his property back." I had really and for true hated the Official in that moment, but I'd been stuck with it. So, not willing to continue on with the state of affairs I'd made a life-changing decision and followed through.

"And you thought… death," Bobby damn near choked on that word, "was the only option?"

I nodded slowly. "Seemed like the only one at the time."

"Idiot," he muttered, though I had to wonder if it was me or himself he referred to. "Next time, Fawkes, tell me you're that bad off. I'll back you in whatever you need."

I whipped my head about to stare at him. "Do you really mean that?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Fawkes, I do. Why?"

" 'Cause I intend to end my special mission with one very dead Phone."

Hobbes chuckled softly. "You can deal with him however you want once you've got him in hand. I told you that before, back the first time you went silver-eyed. You think I wouldn't do the same now?"

I smiled and held out my hand for a low five.

Things between us... we fell back into place with that hand-slap. A little truth that turned into a lot, and a partnership got back on solid ground.

...

Ann Rand, who had a very... unique vision of man and all his works also had more than a few very good points to make about mankind. "A viler evil than to murder a man, is to sell him in suicide as an act of virtue. A viler evil than to throw a man into a sacrificial furnace, is to demand that he leap in, of his own will, and that he build the furnace, besides."

Kind of like the unhappy version of have your cake and eat it too. I'd eaten of this particular cake and hadn't cared for it much afterwards. Though at the time I'd wanted nothing more than to go very gently into that goodnight, even if it did involve forceful contact with deep water at terminal velocity. Should've created an impressive splat and lists of broken bones and yet...

Yet I had walked away physically unharmed for the most part.

It should have depressed me even more, but part of me decided that if I had survived it must have been for a reason. I just had to figure out what it was.