Title Unknown

Warnings: Angst-a-plenty. No fluffy bunnies here. Also, this is slash and is about domestic abuse.

Author's Notes: In my universe, he's still alive. Period.

Chapter 9

-----

When I arrive home tonight, Mark corners me in the kitchen and wraps his arms around my waist. "Long day?"

"Yeah," I say with a sigh.

We're still at a dead end with the Carver case. We've been unable to match any of the DNA samples we found to a real, live person. To complicate matters, H and I were supposed to go to the school today to speak to Brendan's teachers and fellow students. But the principal called and said they were having an assembly to deal with Brendan's death, and having cops show up would only exacerbate the situation. H told him in no uncertain terms that we would be at the school tomorrow, as soon as the bell rings.

I did get a partial print off the broken bottle I found, but to my surprise, the print belonged to the vic. It's possible that he threw the bottle at his killer, but missed the target. That's unlikely, since I found it in the trash. It's also possible that he just dropped the bottle because he was clumsy or something. In any case, it's a dead end.

Glancing around the kitchen, I can see that Mark has been pretty busy. There are pots and pans on the stove; a casserole dish filled with something that smells really good is sitting on the counter; and there is a cake on the table. Since I'm pretty sure I don't own this many kitchen items, I'm guessing Mark either went shopping or brought them from his place.

"Looks good," I say, "Everyone should be here soon. Is there anything I can do?"

Mark shakes his head. "I don't want you to tear your stitches. Besides," he says, "I dragged you in here to give you something."

I frown. "What?"

Opening a drawer, Mark pulls out a small box. "Open it," he says.

"Okay," I say warily, "What've we got?" I pull the lid off the box and peer inside. To my surprise, I discover a gold watch studded with what looks like diamonds. "Wow," I say, "This is really nice."

Mark snatches the box from me, removes the watch, and takes my hand. "Let me put it on," he says. Kissing my knuckles after he slides the watch onto my wrist, Mark says, "I wanted to get you something to make up for what a prick I've been."

"It's really not necessary," I say.

"No," Mark whispers, "I'm sorry for what happened."

Then don't do it again.

"It's okay, Mark. You said it won't happen again."

Mark pulls me close and kisses me on the cheek. "Tim, I just know where my temper comes from."

I squeeze Mark tightly, and kiss him on the neck. I hate to see him hurting this way.

"You know," I say, taking a step backward, "This watch is way too nice to wear to work."

He grins. "Then save it for special occasions. Like tonight."

-----

After H, Eric, and Calleigh arrived, Mark ushered everyone to the table and bolted into the kitchen to take care of the food. He refused to let me help, instead telling me to "be a good host, entertain." Mark should know by now that social functions aren't my strong suit.

Still, I muddled through, letting everyone else do most of the talking. They browsed through my book collection, admired my new watch, and asked why they'd never been here before. I communicated through shrugs, monosyllables, and the occasional laugh. I don't know why I'm so uncomfortable tonight. They're my friends.

During the course of the evening Calleigh must've told me five times how much she loves Mark. Of course, Mark did a little homework before Calleigh got here, so he was able to make small talk with her about guns and ammunition. H seems impressed with him, too. He did ask Mark some probing questions initially, but that's H. He's a criminalist whether he's on duty or off. Even Eric has behaved himself so far. I mean, he's not going out of his way to converse with Mark, but he's not being rude, either.

Right now, Mark is bringing in our dessert. Almost as soon as he sits down, he says, "Oh, I forgot the ice cream. My bad."

I stand up. "I'll get it," I say, "You've done enough."

"Tim . . ."

"Mark, I'm not an invalid. I won't tear my stitches carrying ice cream."

Calleigh places a hand on his arm. "Besides, we want you to ourselves for a little bit. Right, Horatio?"

H grins. "That's right. We want to interrogate you."

Mark smiles self-consciously. "I just had to fall for a cop," he says.

As I head toward the kitchen, I notice Eric jump out of his seat to follow me.

"Hey," he says as we reach the kitchen.

"Hey," I say.

Leaning against the counter, he takes a breath and releases it. "I want to you to know that I don't mind Mark. I mean, he seems all right."

I nod. "Good. Because he's part of my life now."

"I know," he says, "I'm still weirded out by this, Speed. I can't lie to you."

"Eric, that's cool. You're trying." I open a drawer and pull out an ice cream scoop. "I just don't see why it's an issue. I mean, if you found out Calleigh and Valera were doing it, you'd be turned on."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I turn to face him, ice cream scoop in hand. "It means that it's not the whole gay thing itself. You're weirded out because Mark and I are gay men. We're threatening."

"Threatening?" Eric laughs. "How are you threatening?"

"I don't know. We're a threat to your masculinity?"

Eric scowls. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"My masculinity's just fine," Eric says.

"Then Mark and I shouldn't be a problem," I say.

"You're not."

"Then we're good."

Eric and I gaze at each other for a long moment.

If I'm being honest, Eric is trying. At least he's not being passive-aggressive about it. He's telling him how he feels, and he's going out of his way to spend time with me, even though it makes him uncomfortable. Finally, I scoop up the carton of ice cream. Patting him on the shoulder, I say, "Come on."

-----

As Eric and I reach the living room, I can hear H, Mark, and Calleigh talking in hushed tones.

"—been worried about him, too, Lieutenant," Mark is saying, "I just think it's been the stress of our relationship."

I frown. So I guess they really did want to interrogate him. Great.

"Well," H says, "Now that it's out in the open, I hope we can—"

"Hi, guys," I say, ending the clandestine conversation.

Calleigh looks innocently up at me. "Well, hi, there, Speedle."

Mark stands up and takes the ice cream from my arms. "Thanks, hon," he says quickly.

I glance between Mark and Calleigh, and then I let my gaze fall hard on H. From Calleigh, this kind of thing doesn't surprise me. But I never expected H to go behind my back and question my boyfriend about my behavior. Granted, I've lied to him a lot lately, but still.

I stand there for a few seconds, unmoving, and then finally take my seat. After I sit down, Mark reaches over and encouragingly squeezes my shoulder.

As we all watch Mark work on the ice cream and cake, Calleigh grabs my hand under the table and leans close to me. "We love him, Tim," she whispers.