The prestigious club was set in acres of lush gardens. A guard was stationed at the driveway gate and waved them in; another surreptitiously checked their membership at the reception on entry. Michael glanced over at the way Hawke was tugging on his bow tie as they waited for Tommy to stop chatting. The pilot had been harried into a black tuxedo along with Michael. The spy figured it was worth his own discomfort just for the amusement of seeing Hawke's. They were soon ushered into the inner sanctum of the colonial style building. Tommy pushed Michael through the door to the bar.

'Surprise!'

The loud yell had Michael blanching as he took in the banners and balloons. He staggered as Tommy slapped an arm around his shoulders.

Michael looked at his father accusingly.

'We just couldn't let an important moment like this pass, son.' Mike said with a smile.

Michael tilted his head towards Hawke. 'Did you know about this?'

Hawke's eyes met Michael's and the spy caught the glimmer of absolute horror lurking in the blue depths. 'What do you think?'

'Come on!' Tommy pushed Michael forward again. 'Let's get you started.'

Hawke smiled at Michael as he was propelled forward. He watched as they disappeared into the crowd of Tommy's cronies and sighed in relief as they apparently seemed to forget about him. It suited him perfectly and he went in search of a quiet corner.

Michael found him an hour and a half later nursing a beer at the bar. He slid onto the stool next to Hawke, rested his cane to the side of him and ordered a whiskey.

'A whiskey, huh?' Hawke's eyebrow tweaked upward.

'They had a stripper.' Michael muttered.

'I noticed.' Hawke said dryly. He reached out and lifted a pink feather from Michael's jacket.

'You deserted me.' Michael said pointing at Hawke with his whiskey. 'Some best man you are…'

Hawke smiled. 'I called Cait. She'll be here in thirty minutes.'

Michael blinked. 'You did?'

'Yeah, but you know I could cancel…'

'No, no!' Michael downed the whiskey and gestured for the bartender to fill the glass again. 'Thank you.' He said gratefully.

'No problem.' Hawke said easily. As far as he was concerned the party was his worst nightmare; at least when his father-in-law had organised the bachelor night they had ended up with a fishing trip.

'So why thirty minutes?' Michael asked almost relaxing for the first time since they had walked in the door.

'Cait and Marella had a big debate about how long we had to stay not to offend your father-in-law.' Hawke explained. 'Nuts?' He passed along the little glass dish.

Michael scooped up a handful. 'I should probably thank you for putting up with any of this.'

'I don't know; seeing you trying to escape the stripper probably made the whole evening worthwhile.' Hawke said dryly tipping his beer bottle and taking a gulp.

'You know I could mention to Tommy how upset you were at missing out on the stripper.' Michael threatened light-heartedly. 'It would be a shame if you were all tied up when Caitlin came and we had to leave without you.'

Hawke shrugged. 'Cait would never leave without me.'

Michael sighed; Hawke was right. 'You really love being married, don't you?'

'I love being married to Cait.' Hawke corrected him gently as he took another handful of nuts. His eyes narrowed on a flash of nervousness in Michael's. 'You having cold feet?'

'No.' Michael immediately denied it. He tossed back his whiskey. 'Not really.' He amended. He sighed at Hawke's questioning look. 'I have done this before.'

'Ah.' Hawke gestured for the bartender.

'Ah, what?' Michael asked slightly grumpily after Hawke had ordered him another drink.

'I was wondering when we were going to have this discussion.' Hawke said.

Michael stared at him for a moment. 'You're getting to know me too well.'

Hawke ignored the diversion. 'Your first marriage didn't work out, Michael; it doesn't mean this one will go the same way.' He pointed at the other man with his beer bottle. 'You know that.'

'I know that. It's the believing it, that's difficult.' Michael admitted staring into the amber liquid of the crystal glass in front of him.

'Marella isn't Gemma.' Hawke pointed out referring to Michael's ex.

'Thank God.' Michael raised his glass. His good eye met Hawke's ruefully. 'Sometimes I can't work out what I did to deserve a woman like Marella.'

'Sometimes, neither can I.' Hawke teased.

'Hey!' Michael protested laughing.

Hawke's blue eyes twinkled mischievously back at him.

Michael sobered. 'I think that's why I'm worried I'm going to screw this up.'

Hawke regarded him for a long moment. 'You remember what you said to me the night your marriage broke up with Gemma?'

Michael nodded, the words rushing back to him unbidden; wrong woman, wrong time, wrong everything.

'At a guess, I'm thinking you feel the exact opposite about Marella.' Hawke continued.

He was right, Michael thought ruefully. Again. 'That's incredibly annoying.'

'What?' Hawke asked bemused.

'You being right all the time.'

Hawke smiled and sipped his beer.

Michael sighed. He felt better; settled. 'Thanks.'

'No problem.' Hawke murmured.

Michael looked around the bar and gave a short laugh. 'You know this bar kind of reminds me of the one we used to meet up at in Washington.'

Hawke glanced at the shining mahogany wood, sumptuous leather booths and the dim lighting. 'Yeah.'

'If someone had told me then you were going to be my best man when I married Marella, I would have wondered what planet they were living on.' Michael paused. 'I'm not sure which I would have disbelieved more.'

'Probably me being your best man.' Hawke said dryly.

'Probably.' Michael agreed. 'Although Marella did have to get shot before I realised how much she meant to me.'

Hawke finished off his beer. 'I was the same with Caitlin.'

Michael winced as the whiskey hit the back of his throat. 'What was with that? I mean we're not stupid.'

'No.' Hawke agreed.

They looked at each other.

'Why do I think Caitlin and Marella would disagree with us?' Michael asked looking at the bottom of his glass and wondering where the whiskey had gone.

'Probably because they would.' Hawke said with a frown. 'How much drink have you had, Michael?'

'Hmmm?' Michael waved at the bar. 'Well, these couple of drinks…'

'Three.' Hawke corrected.

'…and Tommy gave me a couple of glasses of juice earlier.'

'You mean the punch?' Hawke sighed. He snagged the crystal glass out of Michael's hand. 'I think we need to get you some fresh air.'

'I'm not drunk.' Michael said stubbornly.

'Sure.' Hawke slid off the barstool. 'But we might as well wait for Cait outside.'

'Good plan.' Michael followed him and felt his balance slip.

Hawke steadied him and passed him his cane. 'Caitlin's going to kill me.' He muttered under his breath.

'Not if Marella gets to you first.' Michael grinned at him.

They had taken two steps towards the door when it burst open. The sound of automatic gunfire filled the air, bullets flying and thudding into the wood panelling indiscriminately.

Hawke and Michael hit the floor in a synchronised dive before crawling back towards the cover of the bar.

'Everybody freeze!'

The room went silent.

A man dressed in black stepped forward brandishing a gun while others dressed similarly took up covering positions around the room.

'All your valuables into the bag!' He yelled. 'All of them! Now! And nobody gets hurt!'

Hawke and Michael looked at each other. Hawke gave a small shake of his head. They were too surrounded to do anything. They could only go along with the robbery and hope they got out of it OK. Hawke slipped his wedding ring into his pants; there was no way he was giving it up but he dutifully handed over his wallet and his watch as the bag came round. Michael did the same.

Hawke's head tilted suddenly.

'What?' Michael whispered.

'Sirens.' Hawke said. 'The guards must have alerted the police.'

One of the gang came running in. 'Boss! We got cops coming up the drive!'

'Everybody into the other room. We can barricade the doors and windows there! Move!' The lead robber stared coldly as the assembled, quiet and subdued partygoers were ushered into the adjoining room. 'We got more than enough hostages to change their minds.'

Michael sighed as they walked forward. 'This was such a bad idea.'

'No kidding.' Hawke muttered.