Ch 50

Hardy didn't get very far. The minute he stepped out of the cover of the gazebo all hell broke loose. It was clear that whoever was responsible for the hail of gunfire was keeping an eye on him and knew who he was a person of power and rank.

Peter watched Hardy's progress with baited breath. His boss moved with a grace and speed he would have not expected was possible. Then the bench he had tried to put between him and the gunman burst apart as it was hit by several rounds.

When it became clear that his attempts to reach the other officers would be akin to suicide, he doubled back and nearly dove into the gazebo, managing to avoid the worst areas of pigeon droppings even in his haste.

"Welcome back," Peter grinned.

Biding their time for the ambulance to arrive and the backup forces to help secure the gazebo, Peter and Hardy had come to a near-truce on their squabbling. They had been out of the line of fire and just had to sit tight while waiting to be rescued so they had been forced to talk to each other.

Peter had been dying to ask about how Hardy had knowledge of Natalie's pregnancy, and had been wracking his brains on how to approach it. Finally with a mental shrug he decided to just come right out with it.

Hardy seemed to be caught off guard at first, his eyebrows shot up at the question, then he seemed to get himself back under control, "she told me," he said not bothering to elaborate.

The fear that somehow this child was not really his came back. Peter did not want to believe that Natalie had been having an affair, and certainly not with Hardy, but he couldn't quite dismiss the idea either.

"Why did she tell you?"

Hardy shifted on the bench, did a quick check of the wounded officer's pulse then leaned back, "she's lonely, and needed a someone to talk to, I guess."

As much as Peter wanted to ask 'why you?' he figured he already knew the answer. The resemblance between them made Hardy a familiar face, maybe not a particularly friendly one, but Natalie did seem to have the ability to charm the usually gruff man.

Maybe, Peter mused as he pretended to look at his watch, Hardy was a bit lonely too. Two lost souls comforting each other?

When that thought struck him his blood ran cold. He turned back to Hardy, "I'm not convinced this child is mine," he announced as he stared straight into the other man's eyes.

To his surprise Hardy laughed, "typical."

"What?" Peter challenged.

"You are so afraid of being held down, forced to think of someone other than yourself now, and it's scared you witless," Hardy snorted. He let all the derision and contempt for Carlisle colour his tone even as he knew that it was completely possible he was correct.

"It's not that..." Peter protested.

He folded his hands in his lap, wondering just how much to reveal to Hardy about his past, his fertility issues.

"Then what is it?" Hardy asked after a while.

"I was told, when I was at uni, that I...um..." he searched for the right words, "can't father a child."

Hardy sat back with a thump, his mind racing, "that was years ago. If you were like most of the jerks I went to school with, you probably drank too much, smoked all matter of things and that can effect that."

Peter was about to press the matter when he noticed Hardy's sleeve, where it poked out from under his suit coat was turning red.

"You're bleeding!" he pointed to the trickle of blood running down Hardy's wrist.

"I think I caught a bit of park bench in the arm as it blew apart," Hardy said dismissively.

Peter quickly removed a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Hardy, "use this," he offered.

Hardy nodded his thanks and held the rapidly turning red piece of cloth to his shoulder.