Jim didn't know where to start; he wasn't sure which of them was more upset after his visit with Pete. The man who spoke to him today wasn't his usual unflappable partner. Rarely had Jim seen Pete so emotional; sharing his deep feelings wasn't Pete's way. Why after five years of riding together had Pete, who never even told Jim his late partner's name, decided that today he "needed to know".

Over the years, Jim had assumed that Pete came to accept Baxter's death. It should have occurred to him that Pete would feel somewhat guilty despite being cleared of any responsibility for Andy dying. Why hadn't it when Pete never mentioned him? He talked about riding with Val, Mac, Woods even the one day he rode with Wells, but not Baxter. Mary Mac Donald had once remarked that Pete was like a lot of other people who grew up as only children; they learn early how to work out things on their own. Jim was glad that Pete finally shared this with him, but he couldn't help but wonder why now.

Visiting Pete before coming home after his shift made sense logistically; Jean had told him that morning that she would be helping at the church and wouldn't be home until six. Still, he as hesitant to show up with a puke covered uniform for his wife to wash. Jim had no doubt that Jean would be asking a lot of questions as it was; the last few days of arguing made sure of that. The real trouble was, while he had been hesitant to become a training officer, he actually enjoyed it, despite the vomiting. He was considering the possibility that Pete was right; a fact that Jean would strongly disagree with.

"Jean, I'm home." While it was his wife he called to, it was his son who came barreling out of his bedroom yelling "Daddy". Jim picked Jimmy up and tossed him into the air causing the boy to squeal in delight. He then caught the boy with a hug; noticing that his son smelt of dirt, chocolate, baby shampoo and peanut butter. "Hey Sport, where's Mommy?"

"Hi Honey", Jean poked her head out of the kitchen door. "Dinner is almost ready. Jimmy, go wash your hands before we eat." Jim let go of the boy, chuckling as he watched Jimmy run down the hall. Jean tossed the dish towel she was using to dry her hands onto the couch before kissing her husband. "Did you talk to Mac?"

Jim sighed as he broke the hug and took a step back. "I tried to, but…"

"You tried?" Jean had cut him off before he could fill her in on what Mac and the captain had said; this was not a good sign. "In other words, you rode with that rookie, right?"

"I had to. Even Captain Moore spoke to me about it. He said…" Jim stopped talking when Jimmy reappeared. If possible, Jim wanted to avoid having Jimmy watch them fight, again.

"We'll talk about it after dinner. Come on Jimmy." Jean took her son's hand; leading him into the kitchen. The brusqueness of her tone indicated that the dinner would be awkward and that the after dinner conversation wasn't going to be pleasant. To an outside observer, it would have seemed like a normal family dinner, but up close it wasn't; Jim talked to Jimmy, Jean talked to Jimmy and neither Jean nor Jim spoke to the other. If there was one saving grace in that dinner it was that Jimmy was too young to notice the odd behavior of his parents. While Jean cleared the table Jim got Jimmy ready for bed.

"Jimmy wants you to come into his room and kiss him goodnight. I'll do the rest of the dishes." Jim crossed the kitchen; holding out a hand for the dish washing cloth. Maybe it would calm her some if he did the rest of the dishes, or at least that is what Jim hoped. Jean threw the cloth into the sink, splashing sudsy water on both of them, saying that she would do it when she got back.

Jim bit back a snarky comment and proceeded to finish the dishes anyway. It was something to do while waiting for Jean and the argument that was sure to come. He also took the opportunity to bring the puked on uniform to the washing machine. They'd been going around in circles on the issue of his job ever since Pete was shot in the narco raid. Over a year later, nothing was accomplished except for hurt feelings.

"I told you I would finish the dishes when Jimmy was asleep." Jim was putting the last of the dishes into the drying rack when Jean returned. "Is this supposed to make me forget about you, Pete and that rookie?"

"His name is Larry and no, I don't for a minute expect you to change your mind because I finished the dishes." Jim refilled his coffee mug and took a seat at the kitchen table. "You've been making your opinion clear for quite a while now."

"If you know how I feel why do you insist on further risking your life to train a rookie?" Unlike Jim, Jean had yet to take a seat; preferring to stand close to the kitchen's sliding glass door. "Pete decides that you need to do the most dangerous job on the force and everyone, including you, agrees with him?"

"Whoever told you that it is the most dangerous job is wrong. It's safer than riding alone, working undercover or being on the bomb squad." Jim was fidgeting with the mug, turning it around and around; he had yet to take a drink of the coffee.

"It doesn't matter who told me that. Isn't it true that the training officer is supposed to protect the rookie; to put their life between them and danger?" Jean moved closer to Jim, looming over him; her expression daring Jim to contradict her. "I remember you telling me that before your first shift."

"The idea is to keep Larry safe, but I'm not alone in that. If the call has the slightest chance of danger, a back-up unit also responds. Besides, Larry is a former MP; not a totally inexperienced probationer."

"Is that how Pete justifies putting your life in danger?" The anger over his job was hitting him like the waves of the ocean. He could see the whites of her knuckles as she gripped the back of one of the chairs. "Maybe it will help to ease his conscience when you die too."

"Would you please sit down? I don't appreciate you standing over me." Jim used his legs to push his chair back away from her, causing some of the coffee to spill from his mug. "Pete almost died saving Jimmy and me three weeks ago. Do you really think he would risk my life now?"

"Why wouldn't he? He's gambled with lives before and lost." From the first day they rode together, Pete had always put his own life in danger over that of anyone else. Something in the back of Jim's mind wondered if this had any connection with what Pete told him earlier.

"That's not true and you know it; you know Pete. This is a man who hid in the trunk of a car to save my life." It was true that Jim saved Pete's life twice, but he couldn't begin to count up all the times Pete stood between him and death.

"I knew Pete; before I found out that he was responsible for the death of his last partner. Why didn't you ever tell me about that, huh?" Jean took two steps forward, closing the distance between her and Jim; hovering over him like a mountain lion waiting to pounce on its prey.

"I did tell you when I got home after my first shift. Believe me, if Pete was even partially responsible for what happened to Baxter, he wouldn't still be on the force. The department would have fired him." Up until now, Jim had purposely remained seated in an attempt to not escalate the conflict, but he couldn't let Jean's accusations go unanswered. He would defend the man he saw today; the one still carrying the pain of his friend's death.

"I was told that he wormed his way out of it. His dead partner's sister-in-law works at Jimmy's school. When she saw him in that LAPD shirt Pete gave him, we started talking. She said Pete got her sister's husband killed." Jean stood absolutely still her glare daring Jim to contradict her.

"Baxter got himself killed." Jim stood up quickly, the back of his legs pushing the chair into the wall. "Pete told him to stay on the door; a position designed to keep him safe. The kid disobeyed the order and went roaming around the warehouse. That's what got him killed." Jim was so angry that his whole body was shaking.

"Is that what Pete told you? When you got home after your first shift you told me that Pete was going to quit over the death of a friend, not a partner. Why should I believe anything either one of you say now?"

"Because I'm your husband; you know that I have never lied to you!" Jim had been forced to step to the side and back until his shoulder blades touched wall. It was a good position to have when fighting one or more of your enemies, but not when your adversary is your wife. Jim stepped around the table; putting some distance between himself and Jean. "I can't believe you are acting like this. I can handle being a training officer."

"I don't want you dying like Pete's last partner did. He almost got you and Jimmy killed by Johnson." There, she said it. Jean's initial worry over Pete had morphed into questions of why Johnson tried to kill them. Until she spoke to Baxter's sister-in-law she didn't accept the obvious; Pete's carelessness almost caused her to lose her family. He was the reason that Jimmy had nightmares about the bad man.

"Pete saved us from him. Johnson didn't come looking for Pete in our backyard; he wanted me. The fact is that Johnson blamed me for his going to prison as much as he blamed Pete." Technically, that was a stretch of the truth; Tony wanted revenge on both of them, but he saw Pete's part in his conviction as a betrayal of their friendship. As far as Pete was concerned, Johnson destroyed that friendship by using it in an attempt to get away with extortion.

"Whatever, he let Johnson get his hands on Jimmy. Don't you see, our son might have died because of Pete; just like his last partner did?" Jean kicked Jim's chair back under the table. "I don't know how you can defend him."

"I don't understand how you can be saying this garbage. If I was in the yard instead of Pete, Johnson would have gotten to Jimmy anyway. What Pete did after that is what matters." Jim's hands were clenched into fists; it was more in anger than in any way a threat to Jean. "Listen to me. Pete was in no way responsible for what happened to Baxter."

"So he said wh….." Jean cut herself off; not wanting to let Jim know that she had talked to Pete. Jim finally thought he had part of the answer as to why Pete suddenly decided that he "needed to know" how Baxter died.

"Did you go to see Pete today and accuse him of being the reason that Baxter died?" He stared at her wide-eyed, unable to believe his assumption; surely his wife wouldn't be that vindictive. Yet, only something like that could have shaken Pete to his core. Jean glared at him in silence. "How could you hurt him that way? Even if you didn't know the details, you should have known how he would react. You saw him after Tom Porter died." Jim stormed out of the kitchen; grabbing his car keys off the coffee table in the living room. "I'm going for a drive. While I'm gone, you can wash the puke covered uniform I left on the washing machine."

Jim drove off before Jean could get past the front door. Two hours later, he was tired but too disgusted to go home. Stopping at Jean's parents or his own was out of the question. The last thing Jim wanted was to get either set of parents involved. That left only one place; Pete's apartment.