Chapter Text

Salus Venia (Saving Grace)

Epilogue:

Chris hung back at the edge of the range, not wanting Vin to see him. Not wanting him to think Chris was worried.

The target was mounted and fed out, pattern moving it across the area randomly. Vin tucked the M24 tight into his shoulder and waited for the mark. Even outside the actual range, Chris covered his ears lightly, watching Vin, waiting to see if he would flinch when the gun bucked against his shoulder. Rapid fire, sharp, and Vin let loose one round then another within fractions of seconds -- so close together the gun might as well have been on automatic. He adjusted the angle and sighted in small increments, never lifting his head from the scope. He emptied the magazine and then waited for the target to come back, standing loose and impassive. Chris doubted anyone but him noticed Vin roll his shoulder back or straighten his spine.

He'd finished his physical the day before yesterday, cleared for duty and only the recert left. He was pushing it -- the five mile run left him wiped out hours later but he'd done it and Chris managed to only caution him once.

He narrowed his eyes, but he could see the shots: pin pricks of light against the scoring board. Not all dead center but all disabling shots: head and chest and legs on the target looking like a hammered tin pattern on a pie plate.

Chris backed away. He doubted Vin would do any less well on small arms.

"Agent Larabee?" One of the junior agents caught him in the hallway on the way back. New assign, Chris thought, one of Travis' hopefuls. "Director Travis sent me to find you -- says it's important."

Well it would be for Travis to send someone after him instead of calling. He followed the young man, Elliot, he said his name was, into the elevator and headed up.

Travis was waiting for him, telling his secretary he wasn't to be disturbed and closing the door behind Chris. Travis' office looked like an annex for the evidence locker: case files and reports on nearly every surface. His credenza held a small TV and a VCR, and a box of tapes -- the box was tagged but not each individual tape, and Chris had to think about that for a moment.

"Sit down, Larabee," Travis said, even though he didn't.

"Problem?"

"I sincerely hope not," Travis said, grey eyes studying Chris. "Ethics inquiry has been postponed -- indefinitely."

Chris sat up a little, surprised. He and Vin had already decided not to dissemble or even argue. "What happened?"

"Red tape. Paperwork. It's not an issue."

"Travis...I'd rather be done with it."

Travis looked at him and nodded. "It is done." He sat on the edge of his desk, moving a stack of files. "When Tanner transferred in from the Marshals, he transferred to me first -- pending completion of his paperwork. We were missing some things: high school transcripts, college...they didn't come in. I've re-requested them."

Chris shook his head. "And so..."

"His direct report is to me. Until I get his paperwork."

Chris looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. "And then he'll report to me and we'll be back at supervisor-subordinate relations."

"No. There've been some very telling arguments put forward. Regs are there to discourage nepotism and to decrease jeopardy within family relations: spouses, children, siblings," Travis said, all business. "Neither the state of Colorado nor the federal government recognize the validity of same sex couples in civil unions. It was pointed out that penalties are unjust when benefits are lacking. The reg is being re-evaluated. By the time it gets out of committee, I think it will no longer be an impediment to Vin Tanner reporting to you."

Chris was surprised and still confused. "That's a pretty ...lucky break. Who put in the arguments?"

Travis got up, putting his back to Chris. "Your team is the best I have, Chris. Possibly the best the bureau has. I'm not willing to risk that over something ...that doesn't matter."

"It matters to me," Chris said quietly. "I'm not going to stop seeing him, Travis. Or anything else."

"I didn't think so. Come hell or high water, eh?"

"Pretty much. Who was it?"

Travis looked back. "Such petitions are usually kept private as a matter of courtesy but...in this case, it was Ezra Standish. If the man ever wants a different life he could draft bills for congress. Put a lot of work into it. Keep that in mind."

"I will," Chris said, but shook his head. "He's a good man."

"Yes. I'd agree. Here." He put the VCR remote in Chris' hand. "It's been tagged. Evidence from the Juarez case. I've seen it, as have the evidence clerks assigned to the case. I'd rather you see it...before we find out if discretion is a clerk's prerogative."

Chris was still confused but he turned on the VCR, only glancing at Travis when the man went to the window again, to close the blinds

There was no sound, the distance and angle more or less static.

He didn't need to watch it all.

"The tapes Juarez had after Tanner was at the house without Standish got erased. Apparently the power cut caused the recorders to reset and they taped over whatever Juarez may have recorded." Travis' voice was matter of fact, no hint that he might suspect otherwise. "It doesn't matter much -- no one to prosecute, really. The other tapes he kept did help us identify the other five victims. Some of his contacts. They were useful. This one ...isn't," Travis said. "But it's been logged. There is some compassionate... concern over what Tanner experienced. It may be enough."

Chris nodded and rewound the tape, watching the start again. Then again.

"If you tell me it won't make a difference, Chris, I'll believe you," Travis said quietly.

Chris turned off the VCR and got to his feet, popping the tape out. He swept a hand through his hair. "It won't make a difference," he said finally. "And if it does, I'll take care of it myself."

Travis nodded. "You're a good man, Chris. It's a good team."

"Yes, sir." He laid the tape down carefully.

"Take it, Chris. There's no case -- and even if there is, there's nothing on that other than what you saw."

Chris stared at it then picked it up. "I'll tell Vin about the inquiry."

Travis only nodded again and Chris left, heading back to the bullpen.

Vin had finished and he looked up from the congratulations of the rest of the team to smile at Chris. He'd done well. Chris returned the look. "So, if you're clear, why isn't anybody working?" he said.

There were groans and teasing, and Chris only shook his head and went to his office. "Vin...can I have a second?" he asked and Vin rose. God, he looked like a little kid picked first for a baseball team. "Set any records?" he asked.

"Not quite but..." Vin shrugged. "I did okay."

Okay for Vin was hands above average. "Good. Talked to Travis. There isn't going to be an inquiry." He gave him the rough and left Ezra's name out of it.

The relief wasn't there, but Vin relaxed. "I'm glad...but...we'd have been okay, Chris. I'd be okay."

He'd have transferred, Chris knew. They'd talked, almost argued about that too.

"I know." Chris smiled and touched his arm. "Tell them we'll knock off early, do a little celebrating. I'll buy the first round. Hot shot."

Vin grinned and then laughed, ducking his head before he headed back out. Chris only grinned and shook his head at the hollers. "One round!" he yelled and heard Buck laugh.

They got their coats and Chris lingered, waiting. "Ezra."

Ezra turned around smiling, but it faltered when Chris jerked his head toward his office. "We'll catch up," Chris said when Vin hesitated. "Won't be long."

Vin nodded and gripped Ezra's shoulder before following Nathan and Josiah out.

Ezra put his coat on any way and met Chris' gaze. "Must be important," he said, when Chris stepped back and closed his door, then the blinds...and locked the door.

"Put that in," Chris said, pointing at the small TV/VCR combination on his side table. He didn't need to watch again and knew why Travis had stared out of the window; he found himself doing the same thing, glad there wasn't sound. Except he could see Ezra still, the reflection distorted in the glass and he turned to watch the man, not the tape.

Ezra hadn't known. Chris had thought that was the case: Something about the way Vin had looked up, had kept Ezra from ever doing so. It wasn't just the case, just the job. It had been Vin. He wondered if Travis knew or was just worried that this bizarre triangle would affect the way they worked.

"Mr. Larabee..." Ezra sounded a little cool, aplomb noticeably shaken.

"I don't care, Ezra," Chris said quietly, looking out the window. He could see the five of them, heading across the street, a pack of men masquerading as boys, pushing and teasing each other, Buck playing crossing guard. "It doesn't matter to ...me. But I need to know...if it matters to you."

"A great deal, Mr. Larabee," Ezra said softly. "This team..."

"Not the Team...Vin," Chris said, trying not to make it sound like he was angry. He wasn't. He rubbed his eyes. "I don't own him, Ezra."

"I know what you meant, Chris," Ezra said. "The answer's the same. And..." He shrugged, a small mocking smile on his lips, "Mr. Tanner has made his choice."

Chris looked at him, wondering if he knew Ezra as well as he thought. "Travis thinks you should write legal briefs...maybe run for congress. Your...arguments are persuasive," he said.

The smile faltered -- for a second. "The benefits of an excellent education."

Chris nodded. "Thank you anyway."

Ezra inclined his head and then reached over to pull the tape. "And this?"

"Do whatever you want...it's logged, but," Chris shrugged, "Travis isn't worried about it. Ezra...Vin doesn't know."

"No reason he should be further punished for...an act of kindness," Ezra said quietly, and Chris flinched. Ezra put the tape back in and turned the TV on to a station with snow.

Chris beat him to it, punching the record button before Ezra could.

"You still work for me," Chris said evenly. "And I'm still buying the first round."

Ezra chuckled. "Then I suggest we hurry or they will be well on their way to ..."

"More trouble than I can afford," Chris finished, unlocking the door and grabbing his coat. He turned out the lights. Ezra held the elevator doors for him.

Through the glass and open door, Chris could see the small screen, grey and glowing, the lines of the picture blurred.

Some lines were meant to be that way

~end~