They drew apart slowly, eyes flickering open to stare pointedly at the carpet on the other side of the room.

Jack bit his tongue to keep from saying something stupid, and licked his lips nervously. He could taste Ennis; an oddly comforting mix of too much alcohol, too many cigarettes and something Jack could only think of as work. Jack's eyes flickered shut again, and he smiled fondly, as if he was remembering a favourite dream.

The movement was not lost on the mechanic, even though he was looking the other way, and he smiled too. His hand settled on Jack's knee as though it was meant to be there.

"Jack?"

Jack's hand came to rest on top of Ennis's. All the while Jack continued to smile, eyes shut, committing the moment to memory.

"Yes, Ennis?"

Fingers entwined.

"Need to tell you somethin'."

The columnist opened his eyes, his dream in danger of shattering. "Yeah?"

"We've got ourselves a problem here," whispered Ennis. He felt Jack try to tug his hand away, but held on, refusing to let him go. The columnist shot him a look from under thick lashes, what? what the hell is your problem? don't do this to me...

"Look Jack... Look I ain't good with sayin' stuff, but I guess I gotta explain this the best I can..." Ennis took a deep breath, still seeing those pained blue eyes even though they'd looked away again. "Y'know the way you make you're livin' from words? And that if you say the wrong thing, well, you're in deep shit?... Well, I've got that kinda trouble too, but it ain't really the same. Cause what I do speaks more to people than what I say... My mama always used to say to me that my actions were more my words than my words were..." Another flash of blue, this time deeply confused as well as deeply hurt. "So.. What I'm tryin' to say is that... I want to be with you."

Jack's head jerked around at lightning speed, eyes even wider than before, looking for the flaws. Ennis could barely even bring himself to say the rest of what he needed to tell the man.

"But, the problem is, I can't really be with you... You can imagine the kinda crap I'd get, and I got my kids and an ex-wife to support, and I can't afford to lose any of my customers. And if Alma ever found out, she'd never let me see Junior and Francie again... You see where I'm comin' from?" Inwardly Ennis cringed at the look on Jack's face.

"I see..." Jack wasn't sure whether he wanted to punch the man again, just run away or wait and see 

if anything more was forthcoming. Ennis had said he wanted to be with him, but all the stuff after that had left him feeling a bit lost at sea. What was this leading to?

Ennis bit his lower lip, and then plunged on. "Course that don't mean we couldn't be friends..."

Brown and blue met again.

Now Jack understood. Well... What now? Secret relationships weren't him, and he didn't want to have to hide the fact he was with someone. But... This was Ennis, not some stupid Texan rancher with more money than brain cells. He was going to nod, agree to this, even though it would cause him no small amount of misery.

He nodded.

After all, the misery did come with a large helping of a certain adorable mechanic.

Ennis grinned and leant forward again, firstly for a deeper kiss and then to push the other man all the way down...

Normally Jack had issues with Mondays. Today though, he felt as though he could cope - mostly because Ennis had just handed him a mug of coffee.

"Hey." The mechanic's early morning rumble sent tingles along Jack's spine. He took the mug gratefully all the same - even Ennis's voice wasn't quite enough to wake him up. Which was a bit strange, because it wasn't actually like they'd been sleeping the night before.

"What time you have to be in work for?" Ennis sat down at the table, smoothing out a blotchy copy of the Sunday paper.

"Don't really matter... Before noon, preferably." Jack laughed as Ennis raised an eyebrow. "Ok, before 10."

"Really? I think you're just stallin', rodeo." Ennis winked as he said the last word, a reminder of the night before when the two men had a rather practical 'discussion' about Jack's riding capabilities.

"And why would I be doin' that?"

"Hmmph. Shush up and drink your coffee if you ain't gonna talk sense."

"Fine. I'm meant to be in by nine, and since it's a Monday we'll be havin' a damn meetin' like we always do." The columnist scrunched his nose up in a way that made his companion suddenly become very interested in his paper indeed. When he eventually did lower it, he was treated to a smirk and a wink before Jack sprang up and ambled back to the living room to locate his clothes.

"Which is why - " He hopped inelegantly back into the kitchen, tugging on his jeans. " - I'd probably be better movin' along now." His shirt made his mussed up hair even messier, but he flattened it with a few swipes of his hand.

"Damn," muttered Ennis, standing up too, grasping belt-loops and pulling the man close. They nuzzled together affectionately, stubble rasping and grazing. "You need a shave, rodeo."

"So do you." Jack's hands shot up to grab Ennis's face. "But I'm thinkin' you should leave it a bit. Kinda like stubble on a guy."

Ennis snorted and kissed him, deeply and carefully, wanting to get across all of his feelings in that one moment of contact. "Go on then, boy. Before you get me all riled up again."

Jack chuckled and gave him a mock-salute before heading towards the door. In the process of opening it he stopped and turned. Ennis was standing watching him, still completely naked.

"You know how to get in touch with me right?" He didn't even bother to try and will the slight tremor from his voice. "You need my number?"

"Sure..." A scrap of paper beside the phone table was pointed at. Jack obediently scribbled his number down.

"Right..." Deep breath. A forced smile. "You might wanna step away from the door, case of any nosy neighbours. I might appreciate you right now, but I don't think they would."

The mechanic nodded. The door squeaked open and then slammed shut. Moments later the pickup groaned to life, and coughed its way down the street.

Ennis crossed to the phone table and looked down at the scrawl of numbers on the paper. He picked it up, nodded again to himself and then set it down almost reverentially. After a few more seconds of looking at it he picked up the pen and carefully drew a small heart in the corner.

Of course, there was no way Jack was actually going to arrive on time. For one he kept getting lost; he'd never really been in this part of town before. But once he did find a street he was familiar with, if only for the gay bar on the corner, he was reasonably on his way.

Guard Street was busy too, swarming with school buses and commuters. About ten annoying minutes of sitting in traffic Jack finally made it to the Reporter parking lot, stopping his truck beside Christian's Mercedes. Trying not to be caught out by the temperamental doors again, Jack clambered out and then stopped. There was a series of scrapes along the German saloon's wheel-arch, as though someone had cuffed another car or a bollard while driving. That was odd... Christian didn't crash his cars. He just didn't.

Jack jogged across the road and into the building, so deep in thought he only nodded to Morgan the receptionist when she waved at him.

The meeting had already started; Aguirre was standing at one end of the room, most of the employees gathered around in a vague semi-circle. Some were loitering a bit further back, muttering quietly to each other. Jack spotted Christian at his desk, where he was staring at a sheet of paper blankly, like he'd started to read it but his concentration had faded. The man looked sick and tired; nothing like his normal self.

"Hey, Jack." Someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was Helena. She gestured towards the Bostonian. "What's up with his lordship? I've called him Chrissy five times this morning and he didn't say anything."

"I think all this stuff with his kid's just got to him," sighed Jack. Helena made a sympathetic face and turned away to search out more gossip.

Halfway across the room someone tapped Jack again. In a considerably more personal place that was very much reserved for one person. He span, fists already bunching, knowing who it was even before he saw the horrible, smarmy bastard.

"Ready to help me then Jack?" There was something about the way he said 'help' that made the ex-rodeo cowboy doubt he was talking about the sports section. All he got was a curt shrug. As Jack turned away again, he felt a hand grab the back of his belt.

"Hey!" He span again, catching Randall's wrist and gripping hard enough to feel bones compress alarmingly. "If I've gotta work with you, you're gonna follow my rules, understand?" White-faced in pain and surprise, Randall nodded silently. "Good. The one I want you to learn today is this: keep your sweaty paws to yourself. I don't appreciate bein' groped by total strangers." He let go and strode over to his desk as quickly as possible without looking back.

"Well done," mumbled Christian, not looking away from the page. "Stupid bastard can barely keep his trousers on. Five minutes ago he was drooling over Dolores." Jack glanced over at the woman in question, who was a fearsome figure at 6 foot in her bare feet and who towered over everybody in the room in her wickedly pointy stilettos. He wasn't sure why anyone would want to risk drooling over Dolores when she was wearing those shoes, unless they had some sort of pain fetish.

"That why he's sittin' so awkwardly?"

"Probably. Dolores must be losing her touch though. Last time she kicked him, he was off work for three days." Christian set the page down and leant back in his seat, hands over his face. "Oh, lord."

"Bad night?"



"Dire."

Jack settled into his chair and peered at the paper Christian had been staring at earlier. It was blank. Yeah, someone was either suffering sleep deprivation or going insane.

"Should you be in? I know Aguirre's a dick, but sure he don't need you for anythin' does he?"

"He doesn't. I'm only here to tell him I'm going to have to take some time off to make sure Meggie doesn't do anything stupid to herself."

The noise level suddenly increased. Aguirre was gathering up a sheaf of notes, people were shuffling off towards the vending machines and cafeteria in search of coffee. The editor spotted the two men through a gap in the crowd and stomped over.

He was about to say something pissy about them talking during the meeting, no doubt, but took one look at Christian and changed tack. "Somethin' wrong, Lachlan?"

"I need some time off." Christian slumped forward again, bloodshot eyes vaguely focusing on his boss, "I've got problems with my daughter."

"She the girl that turned up here on Saturday?"

"Yeah... I don't want to leave her alone too long."

"Just as long as you get your column in, I don't care," snorted Aguirre, his moment of concern long gone, "The way I hear it though, you guys normally only turn up in the mornin' and then leave as soon as I'm safely in my office. Won't make much difference if you didn't come in at all frankly." He stomped back off.

"What a lovely man," said Christian, standing up stiffly. He stretched, a move which attracted a lot of attention from the female members of staff, and a few of the guys as well. Jack kept his eyes on the notebook he'd dragged out of the mess on his desk, smiling faintly to himself.

"Jack...?"

He looked up to see his friend watching him curiously, head tilted.

"Thinking about something interesting?"

"Replace the 'thing' with 'one' and try again."

"Ah, so your evening with my mechanic turned out all right then?"

"Yeah." Jack frowned a bit. "We're friends. That's really it. Just friends..."



Now it was Christian's turn to frown. "Not liking the way that last sentence tailed off, Jack. I may be bloody tired but I'm not stupid. What are you getting yourself into?"

The younger man glanced around nervously. No one was paying any attention to them anymore. "I'm not meant to tell you any of it, all right? It's just..."

"What?"

"Ennis... He's still got issues. Thinks he's gonna lose all his customers if he comes out. And he's scared that his ex-wife'll stop him seein' his kids." Jack gave Christian a pleading look, needing approval for reasons he wasn't sure of.

"This is going to end badly, Jack," muttered Christian. But then he shrugged and smiled slightly. "Of course, nearly everything always does. Do what you want, just be careful, all right? I don't need people turning up on my doorstep at three am again."

Jack nodded, biting the inside of his lip as his friend walked away. Christian always seemed to point out the reality of the situation that Jack would be trying to ignore. He wasn't sure what the hell he was going to do about him and Ennis. The only thing that occurred to him at the moment was to go along with the mechanic's idea until they were suitably attached to each other and he was ready to listen to Jack's ideas about non-secret relationships. Until then the columnist didn't know what he was going to do. Dropping by at Ennis's house once a week, avoiding the area entirely at weekends in case Alma was skulking about the place, not telling anyone he was spoken for - which was going to be extra hard because Ennis was the kind of guy you wanted to show off.

Jack had a nasty feeling Christian was, once more, going to be right.