A/N: One more month until we get new episodes! I don't know about you, but I can't wait!

Thanks for reviewing, and enjoy! :)

Street walked into the locker room and subtly nodded hello to his fellow team members as he opened his locker.

Luca clapped his hands together, drawing extra attention to Street's presence. "Oh, walk of shame! Walk of shame right here!"

Hondo gave Street a big smile. "How're you feelin'?"

"Like you'd expect. Shitty," he mumbled.

Hondo and Luca chuckled, the latter saying, "You sure look like it."

Street scoffed. "Thanks."

Luca shrugged. "What're friends for?"

Deacon looked between them. "What'd I miss last night?"

"Just Cassie and our boy here getting trashed on a work night. Not something I'd recommend, by the way," Hondo said.

Deacon frowned, hesitating for a moment before continuing to rifle through his locker. "Oh yeah?"

"You were too busy gettin' your freak on with Danielle," Luca added with a smirk.

Street glanced over at his team leader, a deep scowl cutting into his brow.

Oblivious to the other man's scrutiny, Deacon waved them off. "It wasn't like that at all. I kissed her at the door. That's it. To be honest, it still didn't feel...right. I think we would just be better as friends."

"What about her?" Hondo asked. "How does she feel?"

Deacon shrugged. "I got the feeling that she wanted more, but I don't want to string her along if it's not right."

Street wondered if there was a deeper meaning to his statement. Cassie had said the other man's name—okay, more like moaned it—and he wasn't sure if that was where it ended. Did Deacon have feelings for her as well? It would explain their argument after Cassie got 'shot' during the training exercise. Deacon had acted uncharacteristically aggressive about the whole thing.

If Cassie really did have feelings for Deacon, and the man was out dating other women, he wouldn't blame her for getting drunk in the face of so much disappointment. And he'd fallen right into the middle of it—a substitute to pass the time. Normally, that wouldn't have bothered him, but when it came to Cassie, for some reason, it did.

Street slammed his locker shut and instantly regretted it. He didn't want the attention back on him, but that was what he got.

"So, my roomie never came home last night," Luca said, turning toward him. "What'd she do, sleep it off on the beach?"

Street felt a pang of something in his chest. It shot through his bloodstream like a kick of adrenaline. He made of point of looking at Deacon as he said, "Nah, I brought her back to my place."

The older man stopped in the middle of lacing up his boots and glanced at Street, his dark eyes unblinking.

Luca didn't seem to notice the exchange, because he kept right on talking. "Oh, come on, man. Did you guys hook up? I love you like a brother, but if you break her heart, I'll break your face."

Now it was Street's turn to call off the dogs. "I would never hurt her. But I'm not gonna kiss and tell."

"It's never stopped you before," Deacon shot back.

The other two laughed, agreeing, but Street picked up on the bite in Deacon's tone. There was definitely something going on there.

"Cassie's one of us. She's..." Street paused, trying to find the right words. "She's special."

Deacon stared at him, almost as if he were sizing him up. Then, he went back to lacing up his opposite boot.

Luca threw an arm around Street's shoulder. "You're right about that. And I'm glad you realize it. But still, don't hurt her."

Street chuckled, nodding, though the smile didn't meet his eyes. "I don't think you need to worry about that."

Luckily, no one asked why.

In the desolate women's locker room next door, Chris watched Reagan walk up to her locker empty-handed.

"Woah. Isn't that what you were wearing last night?"

Reagan hid her face behind a tangle of black hair. "I'm trying to cut back on laundry..."

"Well that's a load of shit if I've ever heard it. Please don't tell me you slept with Street. I told you not to go out with him."

She sighed, her words exasperated. "I didn't sleep with him. We just kissed. Or, at least, that was what he told me..."

"You don't even know what happened? You seriously got that drunk?"

"Hey, don't judge. I know it was a terrible decision. I can feel it in my head," she said, wincing.

"Okay, this has to stop." Chris straddled the bench and motioned for Reagan to sit in front of her. "Do you have feelings for Street?"

Reagan shrugged and sat down. "Yeah. I mean, not like, I'm in love with him or anything, but we're just getting to know each other. Maybe, someday, it could be love..." She didn't sound convinced.

"Okay, what about Deacon? Because I know there's been something going on there. I'm going to assume that's why you got drunk last night? Because he was going on a date with someone else?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Am I really that obvious? Because, God, that's pathetic. For the record, though, I'm not using Street."

Chris just stared at her.

"Really! I'm not." She decided it was time to lay it all out. Chris had proven to be a trustworthy friend. "I want to be with Deacon, okay? Are you happy now? He's the first person I think about when I wake up, and the last when I go to bed. I hate the fact that he's my CO. Street really should be the guy for me. He's not off-limits, he likes me—"

"What makes you think Deacon doesn't like you?"

"I didn't say that..."

Chris leaned forward and leveled her dark eyes with Reagan's, squinting with clear suspicion.

"Dammit! We had sex, okay? Christ, you should be the one interrogating people from now on."

"You slept with Deacon? Deacon Kay?"

"Yup. There's only one. Thank God..."

"How the hell did that happen? The man hardly shows any emotion. I know it's in there, but you look up the word professional in the dictionary and there he is! Like... Wow. I wasn't expecting that."

"Well don't expect it to happen again. He's barely spoken to me since. We're 'just friends.'" She made air quotes. "But I don't think that even applies anymore. We were so close in the beginning. He made me feel...special."

"Believe me, you are, because I was starting to think the man was gay. I'd never seen him with anyone... Up until last night."

"Yeah, can we not talk about that?" Reagan asked, getting up to dig through her locker again.

Chris followed her and leaned against the wall. "You're not giving up are you?"

Reagan's voice was muffled. "I'm about to give up on finding some clean fucking clothes!"

"How did your locker get so messy? You've only been here a few weeks and it already looks like a pit."

Reagan sat back on her heels and glared at the other woman. "Are you trying to help me right now? Because I'm getting mixed signals."

Chris laughed and put up her hands in surrender. "Sorry. I'm coming on a little heavy. It's a bad habit. I'm actually trying to help you."

"Then what do you suggest I do? Because I need all the help I can get..." she said, her voice defeated.

"Back off for now. Create some breathing room with Street. If it's not meant to be, then it's not worth either of you getting hurt. And give Deacon some space, too. I promise you, he won't be able to stay away."

"What makes you think that? We shared an amazing night together and then he built this wall around himself. He doesn't want me in there."

Chris shrugged one shoulder. "Well maybe he won't like being alone in there and will just come out to be with you."

Reagan gave her a smirk. "That was quite the metaphor."

"I thought that was pretty good myself." She turned to walk away, throwing over her shoulder, "Now go take a shower. You smell like a distillery."

"Yes, Mother," Reagan said, sticking out her tongue at Chris's retreating form.

Nothing had prepared Reagan for being in the same room with everyone else, even though she'd known it was coming. They all met every morning to discuss what was going on. But to see Deacon and Street standing across from her, their eyes saying so much without speaking, and then Chris taking it all in... It was too much.

But she kept her cool—it was what she'd been trained to do—calm under pressure.

Deacon gave the group some updates for the day and then they were free to kill time until a call came in. Reagan opted for an intense gym session, even though the thought itself might destroy her. She needed to get running and sweat out all the alcohol in her system. Better yet, she wished she could sweat out all of her bad decisions at the same time.

Come on, Reagan, be honest. Are they really such bad decisions?

She sighed at the voice in her head.

No.

She had feelings for both Street and Deacon, but the latter's ran deeper. There was no explanation in her mind as to why—she just couldn't help how she felt. She just wished he felt the same way, or was at least willing to admit it.

Deacon followed his team out of their meeting space, his eyes on Reagan's back.

How had they gotten to this point? Oh yeah. It was when he'd taken her to bed, thrown her the friend card and then taken a different woman on a date.

He was trying so hard to straighten out this crimp in his life. He'd told himself that one night would be enough. He'd said they were just friends. He'd gone so far as to ask out Danielle.

But none of it fixed anything. It just made the ache in his chest worse.

And now she'd spent the night with Street.

That moment when the other man had confessed to it in the locker room, Deacon had briefly considered punching him straight in the face and breaking that pretty nose all over again. He felt disgusted by the thought of Street's hands on Reagan. His lips...

But Reagan was a grown woman. She could make her own choices. And he'd pushed her into it—right toward Street.

"Hey, Deacon!"

He shook away his thoughts and turned toward the voice behind him. Captain Cortez jogged to catch up.

"Hey, Captain. What's up?"

"I just got a list of people who are due for their annual climbing evals. You and Street were on there."

"Oh, okay. When is it scheduled?"

"Two hours from now."

He chuckled. "They love doing that on short notice, don't they?"

"It keeps you on your toes, that's for sure," she said, smiling.

"And that's the job, right? Okay, I'll let Street know. I wasn't aware the last one was happening until five minutes before, so thanks for the heads up."

"Anytime."

When the captain walked away, Deacon found Street in the gym on the treadmill next to Reagan's. He could've sworn that the woman's back stiffened in his presence. And Street looked just downright annoyed.

Deacon motioned for Street to remove his earbuds. "Climbing eval at 10."

"Seriously? I guess I should save some then," Street said, slowing his pace. "The whole team?"

"No, just you and me." Even he noticed that his tone was rueful.

They exchanged a resigned nod and then looked to Reagan. She glanced back and he could tell she was feigning disinterest. He gave her the smallest smile, his eyes soft on her flushed face, but turned away before he could see her reaction. He knew she probably wasn't pleased with him right now and he could do without further rejection. It just made it all too real how much he'd screwed up.

Two hours later, Deacon met Street at the bottom of the climbing wall. They donned their safety gear and got into position. On their evaluator's go, they began.

They stayed about even until Street tripped up and found himself hanging from a single handgrip. At that point, Deacon had passed him and was too far away to help—there was no going back down. Street recovered, swinging his legs until he could reach out and grab onto another point. He climbed quickly, slipping once more before leveraging himself onto the ledge at the top, where Deacon sat waiting, his chest heaving from exertion.

Street rubbed his gloved hands together and took in the view from their high point.

"Regretting that bender now? It's gonna show on your score," Deacon remarked.

Street shook his head and released an exasperated sigh. "What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem."

"Bullshit. You've been up my ass since Cassie joined the team and she took one in the vest for me. Don't try to deny it."

Deacon finally looked at him.

"I don't know what's happened between you two-" Street began.

"I could say the same thing," Deacon shot back.

Street let out a short laugh. "So, you're saying something did happen. It was just a hunch, but your reply makes me think there's truth to it."

"What has or hasn't happened between me and Reagan is none of your business."

"Reagan? What happened to keep it professional? Does she call you David?"

Deacon tried not to imagine her pleading voice in the darkness, begging him to fuck her. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Street was baiting him and he refused to give into it. He was better than that.

"She does, doesn't she? What other secrets do you have? Because I've got one of my own."

Deacon's eyes blazed like warm embers in the California sunshine. He breathed heavily through his nose and willed himself to keep it together. "If you touched her..."

Street smiled, those trademark dimples taunting him, "What're you going to do if I did?"

In a moment of part weakness/part rage, Deacon reached across the space between them and grabbed Street's vest. Street pushed his hands away and surged forward headfirst, tackling him. Deacon punched him in the side, trying to get him off. Street threw an elbow in retaliation, drawing blood from the corner of Deacon's mouth. Deacon shot his arm between them, bringing it up and around the back off Street's neck so he could change their position. They rolled, stopping at the edge of the rooftop with Deacon pinning Street, the younger man's head hanging over the side. Shouts from down below were lost in the grunts of their scuffle.

"She has feelings for you, Deke! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?" Street yelled, grasping Deacon's hands where they were fisted on his vest.

"What? Did she say that?"

Street hesitated. "Not exactly."

"Then how do you know?"

"I just do, okay?"

Deacon snapped out of it, felt his blood ease to a simmer. He heaved Street back onto the rooftop and gave a quick wave below to signal that everything was fine.

They both sat back, elbows on their knees, panting and staring at each other.

"She wants you. Not me," Street said in defeat.