Author's Note: Thank you Master Li, mav32, Soului, xLaurelCullenxx, Tragedy of Fenwick, and Athena Rue. Your comments kept my brain working on this even when I felt completely stuck and frustrated with it. I really appreciate the cheering section ^_^. And yes, we really do need more Listener fic! Where is it all?

Affinity Part 3

In the suburbs, the stars were as bright as the guiding lights to Never Never land. The neighbours had long since locked their doors and gone to bed. Three houses down, the Jamison's damn dog wouldn't stop barking. Holt Charleston tipped back the last of his beer, contemplated the stars, then chucked the bottle vaguely in the damn dog's direction. "Shut up!"

The bottle hit something.

Then it rolled to a stop in the grass next to Holt's lawn chair.

Holt sat up.

Holy Shit.

The goddamned...SWAT was sneaking up the side walk, past Holt Charleston's white picket fence.

Holt gaped. There was body armour, and guns, and that weird crouching motion that meant big events were afoot. It wasn't really SWAT, because Canada didn't have SWAT, but Holt hadn't known there was such a thing as a Canadian equivalent, either.

The man who had stopped to throw the bottle back at Holt gestured.

Holt stood up, tripped, and grabbed the back of his lawn chair for balance.

The man gestured again.

"Whu..." Holt squeaked. "What?"

"Go inside." Good God, that wasn't a man at all. It was a woman.

"Sir." She said again, "Go inside."

Holt went inside. But he couldn't resist spying out the window.

"Toby?" Oz whispered. He twisted a little and wriggled his toes in his boots. His butt was going numb from sitting on the cold cement floor for so long. "I can't feel my legs, Toby."

"I'm not helping you with that, Oz." Toby said serenely. He had his eyes closed and looked for all the world like a man on the beach in Margaritaville.

"No, seriously," Oz said, and wriggled some more, "I'm about to...ah, ah!" His calf cramped up. "Charlie horse! Damn it, charlie horse!" Oz crouched and bounced on his toes, trying to rub the ache out with his free hand. Then he tipped over and kneed Toby in the gut.

"Oz!"

They untangled themselves and Toby shoved Oz against the grate. Oz rubbed his calf until the ache went away and thought about old Three Stooges skits – poke in the eye! Bop on the head! Trip over each other and they all fall down!

"If anybody's a stooge here, it's not me."

Finally! Toby had been moping and brooding half the night and, God knows nobody was getting any sleep, if anybody should be moping and brooding it should be OZ. But Oz really wasn't built for long term brooding and certain doom just made Oz unaccountably itchy and awkwardly vocal. When Oz was little (Okay, when Oz visited his mother), his mom would give him the fish eye and every single thing came pouring out of his mouth: yes, he was using the dryer as a clean clothes closet; yes, he'd eaten the chocolate brownies she'd given him for breakfast; yes, he was living off crappy microwave dinners and he'd flubbed up the last date he'd been on because he'd told the girl she smelled awful. He'd meant to say awesome. Or wonderful. And it'd kind of all smooched together in this really...awful way. Ha.

So. Oz simply couldn't handle the silence. He had to say something. It was a compulsion. Really, it just meant Oz was this fantastically honest person and who wouldn't want a friend like Oz – a friend incapable of keeping any secrets?

"And your mom wonders why a nice boy like you hasn't found a nice girl to settle down with yet." Toby smirked. "You really told her she smelled awful?"

"It's not what I meant to say." Oz grumbled. "I was thinking two words at the same time, and they just came out at the same time." Oh, right. Toby was the friend Oz couldn't keep any secrets from.

And just like that, the little peek of sunshine behind Toby's gloomy clouds was gone. "Like you have any deep, dark secrets anyway." Toby looked away from Oz.

Toby was like those tall, dark, and troubled characters on TV; underneath the heroic surface, there was always some sort of angst going on. It was really, really exasperating sometimes.

"Oh hell, Toby. You think I care?" Toby could be so darned touchy when it came to talking about his telepathy. He talked around it, like he didn't really know how to describe it. Oz had to admit, Toby didn't have much practice. But still... "Well, I mean – I care – because you're my friend and I care, right? But I don't care if you hear what I'm thinking because you're my friend and that doesn't matter...God Damn it, Toby. You're an ass."

"What?" Toby's head whipped up to stare at Oz and Oz felt pleased. He'd been practicing that manoeuvre since the big telepathy reveal – saying what he was thinking before he thought it. Surprisingly, it actually came fairly easy to Oz.

"You're an ass." Oz enunciated clearly. "Seriously? I'm your side-kick, or right-hand man, or whatever, and you're really going to question my...my integrity, my commitment, my friggin' devotion, now? It should be, like, a fixture in your cosmos Toby. You're not allowed to worry about whether or not your best friend is pissed about something you can't help. I'm not, okay? You can expect that."

"You're a girl, Oz." Toby said. But he was looking at Oz with that little half smirk that made Ryder assign them double shifts, and Becker treat Toby like he was low-life scum, and that Oz knew meant Toby was really, honestly amused. It usually got Oz in trouble, too. If Toby hadn't been the foster kid with the fucked up past and debilitating telepathy, he probably would have been a natural hellion. Even so, that smirk still made Oz want to button down the hatches. "Seriously, only girls declare their best friend forever status out loud like that. You know that, right?"

Oz snorted. "As if you don't know."

"Yeah, I know."

"When we get out of here, you're coming to the restaurant with me for dinner. Mom and dad will cook you up more food than you can eat. Home cooked stuff. None of that bachelor crap."

"I'll eat it all." Toby promised.

"Good." Oz said. Then he wondered if he'd get home for dinner. God. Had anybody contacted his parents? They must be frantic.

"I'm sorry, Oz." Toby said. "I shouldn't have doubted you. You're a great friend. The best."

"You should be sorry. I'm in this basement with you, aren't I?"

"Yeah." Toby flicked Oz's ear. It was totally an apology. "You are."

The house was silent and still. The bare bulb over the porch spilled a yellow light down the steps and to the edge of the walk way. The squad crept up the drive and moved to surround the house. Harold (don't call me Harry) Wolfe was leading the Emergency Task Force operation. They were going in with less information than advisable, however Sergeant Becker had put a rush on the operation and it was time sensitive.

Somewhere in that house, two city EMT's were being held hostage.

No effort was being made to contact the hostage taker. They'd even cut the phone lines. It was against protocol, however quick mobilization and the dark of night were on their side. Wolfe hoped they could storm the house and defuse the situation before anybody inside realized the jig was up.

The team got into position.

Two officers poised the battering ram between them. Wolfe signalled the count: Three, two, one.

BANG!

BANG!

It gave on the second try. They dropped the ram, kicked the door all the way open, and invaded the house.

"Do you hear that?"

Oz was growing weary. His initial panic had subsided until he just felt numb. God Damn, but the hard part of all this was the waiting. It wore at him and made him feel small.

There was an odd noise somewhere in the house above their heads.

"He's waking up." Toby watched the ceiling like he could actually see what LaPaige was doing. Oz couldn't help trying to see what Toby was looking at. It was like those drivers who slowed down to gawp at a wreck; one driver slowed down and suddenly all the other drivers had to look at what he was looking at, even if they couldn't see anything. Oz had always thought they were morons.

There was nothing on the ceiling for Oz to see.

But Oz could hear it now. A dog was barking frantically nearby. A woman was shouting but there was an odd quality to her voice, like static or distortion. "Andy, you asshole! There's fucking police in my fucking house! What have you done! What have you done?" There was a crash, and a man ordered her to put her hands up and step into the middle of the room.

The dog went silent mid-bark.

The house was dead still.

"What's going on?" Oz demanded.

"I can't..." Toby sucked in a deep breath. His eyes were blown wide and he had a look of intense concentration on his face. "I...I can only hear LaPaige. I can't hear anybody else."

"Is it our rescue?" Oz had never felt so grateful, so relieved, in his entire life.

"Andy's pissed." Toby was completely focused on what he was hearing in his head. "He's coming down here."

"What?" Someone was running down the hall above their heads. Oz's heart beat crazy fast and the blood rushed in his ears. "He can't do that! The police are here. They're gonna stop him!"

The door to the basement slammed open against the wall like thunder.

BANG!

Sara Tucker woke with a fright.

Kody was barking up an almighty storm downstairs.

BANG!

She heard the front door fly open and she knew, she knew.

Andy had set the shortwave radio up next to her bed. It had been a present, shortly after his brother's trial had completed and Oliver had received the verdict they'd all seen coming. Andy had been in a foul, vicious, violent temper for months.

Sara hadn't told him she'd been pleased to see Ollie out of their lives. Andy could get mad, but Ollie was off. She'd never liked being left alone in a room with Ollie, even though she knew he'd never touch her because she was Andy's girlfriend. Ollie always respected Andy's lines.

But after the verdict, Andy hadn't settled down. He'd got worse. He was up night and day and he was quiet. For the first time ever, he scared Sara.

Then he'd given her the radio, and told her he had to go away for a while. He said he had business and he wouldn't be able to answer his phone but, if she needed to contact him, she could get him on the radio. He set the frequency and told her he would leave his end on, always. He showed her how to use it, and he touched her real sweet.

Sara wasn't sure if she wanted him to come back.

But she didn't want to see him in prison, either.

She lunged across the bed, flipped the radio on, and yelled, "Andy, you asshole! There's fucking police in my fucking house! What have you done! What have you done?"

Her bedroom door flew open and a gun was levelled at her. "Put your hands up! Now! Get away from the table. Step into the middle of the room!"

Sara released the transmitting button.

LaPaige looked like some kind of monster. Oz knew it was probably the stark terror he was feeling, but LaPaige looked bigger, and meaner, and less human than anything Oz had ever seen.

Toby moaned like a wounded animal and curled up as far away as the cuff would let him.

LaPaige came down the stairs.

He was carrying a gun.

Oz reached out blindly and hauled Toby against him. Toby smelled like sweat and fear and familiarity. When Oz had been sixteen, he'd fallen off some scaffolding and hit his head. He'd woken up, tried to stand, and passed out again. He'd passed out three times before he'd woken up with his face pressed against his father's chest and the smell, the familiar, safe smell of his father, had grounded him when everything else – sight and sound and orientation – was spinning.

Oz breathed deep.

"Don't," Toby said. "Don't. It's too much." He covered his ears.

LaPaige stopped. Oz waited.

The keys landed at their feet.

"Uncuff yourselves."

Toby didn't move. Oz reached out his free hand and fumbled. He was shaking so hard he couldn't pick the keys up. Finally he grasped them and fitted them to the lock. He uncuffed himself first and, without looking at LaPaige, uncuffed Toby as well. Toby never removed his hands from his ears. His breath panted warm and wet against Oz's arm as Oz worked to pull the cuff off Toby.

"Stand up."

Oz stood. His knees creaked like an old man's and his back ached from sitting on the floor for so long. Pins and needles burned up his thighs. Beside him, Toby stood as well.

LaPaige looked at them.

"Your police friend didn't come through."

Shit, Oz thought. Shit. He closed his eyes.

"They're not here!" Marks yelled and stormed into the bedroom. They had cleared the house top to bottom and there was no sign of Logan, Bey, or LaPaige. They had never been in the house.

The woman, LaPaige's girlfriend, was sitting on the bed in a pink nightie. Her face was white.

Wolfe looked at Becker. "You have five minutes." He said. "Don't do anything stupid." And he cleared the remaining officers out of the room before shutting the door behind him.

It was just Becker and Marks and the girl in the room.

"Where is Andy LaPaige?" Charlie demanded.

"I don't know." The girl didn't look up. "He never told me where he was going."

"He didn't tell you anything? Leave a name? An idea of what he was doing?"

"No! Nothing! He was really upset about his brother, you know? He needed some time to...go think about it."

"If you know anything," Charlie threatened," anything at all, and you don't tell me right now, I will make damn sure you get put up on charges of conspiracy to kidnap, withholding information, hindering a police investigation, God Damn jay walking if I have to. I will ruin your life and I won't stop."

The girl started crying.

"Marks." Becker was examining something on the bed side table. "Look at this."

It was a shortwave radio. The frequency was already set and it smelled like new plastic. The girlfriend probably hadn't had it for long.

"We cut the lines," Becker said softly, "but she could have contacted him with this."

Charlie was back across the room before she knew what she was doing. Becker grabbed her fist before she could strike the girl. He squeezed Mark's wrist. The warning was clear: Don't touch her.

"Where is he?" Charlie snarled. Spit wet the girl's cheek.

"I –I-I really don't know. He didn't tell me. He didn't tell me." The girl was having a hard time catching her breath. "Please, I didn't do anything."

"Your boyfriend has kidnapped two EMT's. You're not going to get any sympathy from anybody, sweetheart. Make a wild guess. Where is he?"

"There's...there's a place. He took me there for the weekend a couple times. It was better than a hotel, because I could bring Koby. M-my dog, Koby. It's a house. It's about an hour and a half from here."

Oz closed his eyes.

Toby threw himself at LaPaige. He leaped across the distance between them like he was going to rip LaPaige in half. LaPaige jerked the gun up in surprise.

Toby stepped on the forgotten bowl of KD.

His foot went out from under him and he flailed over backwards. The gunshot went over his head.

Oz shrieked. That noise hadn't really come from him – really – and tackled LaPaige himself. They went down in a tangle of limbs and the gun skittered across the floor. LaPaige snarled like an animal and clawed at Oz's face. LaPaige was bigger than Oz but Oz had mindless desperation on his side. They wrestled and struggled across the floor.

LaPaige got a thumb in Oz's eye and Oz jerked away reflexively. LaPaige followed him. Oz swung but LaPaige kept on coming. He got his hands around Oz's throat and squeezed.

Oz clawed at LaPaige's hands.

Somebody was making weird mewling noises. Oz struggled to breath and fought against LaPaige's hold. His vision was greying out.

The gun went off.

LaPaige let go suddenly and Oz slumped bonelessly against the floor. The cement was cool against his face and Oz panted until his mind steadied and his heart beat slowed. Then he looked up.

Toby dropped the gun.

Author's comment: So. I had a lot of point of view changes in this chapter. I really wanted to draw out the suspense and give you guys some action in this part and honestly, I couldn't figure out how to do it if I stayed in the basement with Toby and Oz. I hope the point of view changes worked for you and weren't confusing. Please let me know if you had any problems with it. Thanks for reading!