This is my Fourth installment, and I loved all of the reviews! Thank you sooo much! Upon request, this chapter is a little longer, and has a dialogue part included. I must give fair warning, this one is very hard to keep track of, so you'll have to concentrate real hard while reading.

Wes talks in normal text

Travis talks in Italics

When it's bold that means that they are BOTH talking.

The dialogue is told in third person.

Thank you again soo much for reading! bye. :

Trust….

Do I trust Wes?

Do I trust Travis?

No… I don't.

I don't trust Travis as far as I can throw him. Even farther than that, I can't trust him. Travis is impulsive, he's ridiculous, and he's basically a huge teenager. It's hard to trust a guy who lives his life upon the imaginary vibes of women. He made up the 'bro code' for heaven sakes. There is no honor among thieves; there is no trust among the 'bro code'. He has a record for God sake!

I can't trust him!

I don't like to keep secrets. I don't like to lie to my friends…. Friend…. My best friend. I don't like to lie to my best friend, but Wes doesn't know. He doesn't get what it's like to not have anyone that you can trust. Anyone you can rely on, count on, believe that they will always keep your best interests at heart. Foster care… Hell, life is not like that.

You can't trust everyone.

You can't trust anyone.

And if you hadn't noticed, Wes has a frickin' huge stick up his ass and that makes him harder to trust, harder to live with, harder to be around.

And Wes, he… he pulled a gun on me… he…

I can't trust him…

Why can't I trust Travis? Hmm… let me think about that.

Oh, oh does this seem like one of the reasonable explanations:

(3 months ago)

"Travis, I know it's inconvenient, and I wouldn't ask if it weren't absolutely necessary… I… no I…. Travis I know. Just sprinkle it on the grass and… yes Travis… Yes. I know I owe you big time. Yes, alright. Travis, I… Travis, I…. TRAVIS!... Goodbye." Wes drops his phone on the bouncy, soft, hotel comforter.

He thought that he would only be staying at this hotel while he transitioned into a new house, new life without Alex. It was taking longer than he originally assumed. It was also very difficult to leave that life, and one thing that he never gave up was his love for the shrubbery.

Usually nothing would stop Wes from going over to Alex/his house and taking care of the lawn himself, but unfortunately he's not a mailman, snow, rain, sleet, and what-not won't bring him down, but a major head cold and an unhealthy dose of Dayquil will.

So there he lay, halfway across town from his lawn, with a pillow over his head, contemplating death on a cellular level.

'I swear to God if he messes this up… No. He won't mess this up… I mean, he's Travis, but come on. It's just grass, right?

Right?

I can trust him….

(Two days later)

Wes was pissed. He stormed into the precinct with one thought on his mind: Kill Travis

He sees nothing but red. He takes deep, calming breaths, to no avail. He's going to explode. He's going to freak out! He's gonna… he's gonna…. he's gonna… kill Travis.

"MARKS!" Wes yells out in frustration when he spies his soon-to-be-dead partner with his feet up on Wes' desk. There's a sick sense of satisfaction when he sees Travis jump a foot in the air and spill his coffee down the front of his shirt.

"Jesus! Dammit man, that's hot! What the hell is wrong with you?" Travis squeaks out as he grabs for something to stop the burning liquid.

"What is wrong with me? What is wrong with me? I'll tell you what's wrong, you inconsiderate ass! My grass is what's wrong!" Wes paces haughtily in front of Travis. He doesn't care if they're drawing a crowd. He can only see the dead remnants of his beloved lawn in his mind, and it makes him want to do unspeakably mean things to Travis.

"Your grass? You mean Alex's- " Travis starts with a smile, but then he looks up at Wes' face and he can instantly tell that this is the wrong time for such a remark. "Ok, what's wrong with your grass?"

"What's wrong with it? What's wrong? The real question is what isn't wrong with it? Or better yet, where did it go? Because the house I just left, with the same address as my old house, and the same mailbox as my old house, and the same GODDAMN EX-WIFE AS MY OLD HOUSE, HAS NO LAWN!" Wes started off quiet, but his voice escaladed to an extreme by the end.

"What do you mean it has no lawn? I did not spend two whole hours of my life spreading manure on a not-lawn, alright Wes. No. Nope. No way, did not happen."

Wes stops pacing and turns slowly and menacingly toward his partner. "Two? You spent two hours putting manure on my lawn. On. My. Lawn?"

It's just about this point when Travis smiles one of his Travis-y-smiles, and Wes' face gets really red, and Travis recalls Wes saying something about sprinkling the manure on, and Wes jumps for Travis' throat, and they both have to be separated. Again.

And that's why I can't trust Wes.

One mistake

One tiny, miniscule, not even a real mistake, and the spaz tries to choke me out. What is that?

So could I trust him?

Hell no!

Can I trust him?

Absolutely not!

Do I trust him…?

After everything was said and done and the baby face robbers were caught; Travis and I sat down at counseling and Doctor Ryan asked us if we did our homework.

Travis told me about his life before the force, about his foster families, and about a lot of things I didn't know before.

Wes told me about his life, about his want of a family like mine, and Wes knew I would have pulled that trigger, but he told me that he was there so I wouldn't have to.

Trust…

Do I trust Wes?

Do I trust Travis?

Do I trust my partner?

Yes… I do.

And that was Trust. Thank you again so much for reading. I am in love with the reviews, and I'll continue to write a story every time I see a new episode! Thank you! Please review, and bye! :