That Explains much


Author: wanderingsmith
Started oct 2, 2014 - latest update dec 19, 2014 -
Summary: E3 missing scenes, Team POV of a couple people deep in de Nile
    Ch I: "Mister Ross, he is very fond of celebrating holidays?"
    Ch II: All the humour in the air vanished as though cut with one of the many knives present while the copilot and Mister Toll reached for the battered man holding on to his rope with an obviously weakening grip as he came level with the floor.
    Ch III: Ah. His eyes widened in surprise; perhaps 'no hugging' was an extension of 'get out of Christmas' seat' rather than an American complaint against latin demonstrations of gratitude and friendship.

Followed by: The talk
     "I'm driving this one home before Smilee inherits the team earlier than planned."
     "Will always left it to you, Christmas."
     Lee spun his head and almost spit his words, low-voiced growl raising hackles
     "You know damn well I won't take it!"
i.e., another tack to hashing out the E3 mess
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I play with 'em..

AN: I offer no excuses, -shrug-, read at your own choice :)


Goto Chapter 2
Goto Chapter 3
Goto Chapter 4
Goto Chapter 5
Goto Chapter 6


Chapter one : Holidays (Toll)
oct 2, 2014


Setting his gear down, Toll watched the stranger hurriedly stumble his way out of the cockpit, for a second making him think of the lover escaping out the window a step ahead of the returning husband in last night's movie.

When the fellow straightened and saw them, he pasted on a too-friendly, if confused, smile, "Mister Ross, he is very fond of celebrating holidays?"

Toll stared at the newcomer disbelievingly, "Holidays?? Boss??"

Doc choked on a laugh besides him and Toll gave him a dirty look until he explained himself, "Christmas."

It was Toll's turn to choke on sniggers, smirking at the Spaniard staring at them in mostly-hidden frustration, "Yeah, I guess 'fond' isn't that far off the mark." He grinned as Doc laughed again. "Don't think I want to picture the celebration, though."

"Would you clowns clear the fucking passageway so we can go get ourselves killed?"

Toll turned to smirk at the glowering brit, "Sorry to keep you from your special seat, Christmas."

Lee glared at him suspiciously and Toll tried, he really did, to restrain his smirk, knowing the man's temper was on the edge of one of his knives, what with the boss' trying to boot them all out of his life. Again.

"What the fuck's so *special* about my *seat*??"

"I believe he means-"

"I *mean*," Toll glared a warning at the stranger, "That the boss needs watching over and the light reflecting off your skull makes you the closest thing to an angel in this circus."

With a wordless snarl of compounded frustration and a shove as his only response, Christmas stalked past them and smoothly crouched his way into the cockpit, no doubt ready to blast the boss with his short fuse.

Turning from staring at the retreating form of the man whose seat he'd almost stolen, the stranger leaned confidentially toward Toll, lowering his voice, "His name is Christmas? He is the copilot?"

"Yeah. And the boss' right-hand; or best friend, depending on his mood. At least when Ross doesn't decide something's personal and too dangerous to let us help him."

Understanding sympathy relaxed the too-tense face, for a second, "That would be.. frustrating."

Toll grunted and saw Doc roll his eyes with an aggravated look, both of them moving to get in their seats as Gunner walked up from stowing the heavy gear.

After the usual momentary pull-back that close proximity to Gunner always induced, the stranger put on that too-bright smile of his again, "Well, *I* am Galgo, I am the best-"


Chapter two : Explosion (Galgo)

AN: All the humour in the air vanished as though cut with one of the many knives present while the copilot and Mister Toll reached for the battered man holding on to his rope with an obviously weakening grip as he came level with the floor.


Breathing deeply to try to restrain the adrenaline high of success, and his slightly hysterical gratitude that his team had *survived*, Galgo hung on to his ceiling grip and distracted himself by focusing on the others stuffed alongside him in the overloaded helicopter.

All the young ones that had just been rescued appeared to have survived their imprisonment more than well and were clustered together on the edge of the mob.

Somewhere too far behind him to see easily without giving up his grip, he could hear incomprehensible mutters from the tall European and his short Asian colleague who had appeared with their transport.

The fellows that had stopped him and Mister Ross from leaving, the 'old' team, were clustered at the opening before Galgo, jeering at their boss, who had managed to survive the explosion by some mad miracle.

He was about to repeat the circuit when he happened to notice that the copilot with the strange name, though leading the shouted threats and laughter at their dangling leader, watched the man hanging below them with an unblinking, *sharp*, eye...

Ha! Yes, there it was, just as he thought: quite suddenly, the bald fellow's smile vanished and he was down on his belly while shouting a firm order at the other crazy-looking tall blond European to bring the boss up. All the humour in the air vanished as though cut with one of the many knives present while the copilot and Mister Toll reached for the battered man holding on to his rope with an obviously weakening grip as he came level with the deck.

Galgo shifted closer to the pretty Luna-lady and her colleagues along one of the walls and sat down to make room for another passenger. When he looked again, Mister Ross' right-hand had found room for them to sit against the opposite wall together, and the boss himself was slumped against the younger man's side, eyes closed and looking quite ragged; broken and swollen lips moving, though the transport was too loud for Galgo to hear the words being spoken.

Head tilted to listen, the copilot's eyes were quickly and with the ease of practise scanning the boss' body, pausing on each of the blood patches before moving on. Then with some lip-movements of his own, they both grinned, each raised a hand and knocked the sides of their fists together in an obvious ritual.

When he glanced at the others to see what their reactions were, he found everyone carefully looking away. Ah.

He wondered if it was their leader's weakness they were allowing to be private; or the two's quite 'latin' affection.

Returning to cycling through the rest of the now settled-down team members, after a few minutes he felt a ripple of movement at his side and looked to see the lovely, and deadly, lady handing him a blanket with a chin-jerk toward their leaders.

Somewhat uneasy to be breaking everyone's blind eye, Galgo half-stood, half-leaned to hand the blanket to- Christmas! *That* was the strange name!- to *Christmas*, while carefully not looking at the man having apparently reached the end of his considerable strength and now sleeping on Christmas' shoulder.

The copilot gave him a grateful smile, though the eyes that met his were hard with warning, "Thanks."

Galgo nodded, getting back in his seat, unable to help watching out the corner of his eye as the man covered their boss' shoulders with unexpected gentleness. And left a generous ruffle at the top, shielding sleeping features from any watchers.

Though it left entirely exposed thick fingers, scratched and burned where they stuck out of their wrappings, but still gripping the copilot's knee, even in their owner's apparent sleep.


Chapter three : ?Hugging (Galgo)?
oct 6, 2014

AN: Ah. His eyes widened in surprise; perhaps 'no hugging' was an extension of 'get out of Christmas' seat' rather than an American complaint against latin demonstrations of gratitude and friendship.
-headdesk- this was meant to be SHORT!!. just little scene bits. really!!


As Mister Yang clapped his shoulder with a friendly smile and then walked away with his rather offencive partner, Galgo rolled his sleeve back down over his new inking, idly looking for the others scattered in the busy bar.

Hearing a new song begin, he paused to listen, frowning as he recognized it. He knew, when he chose to be honest with himself, that his role in it would be that of the 'old man', now. And yet.. he had not failed, this time. His boasts were not false, he had proven it; and been accepted for it. He *was* good! Still good.

His wandering eyes focused for a moment on the young ones on the stage and he smiled sadly, thinking they were indeed a great deal like he once was. Bright and wild, brave and strong. Almighty God keep them so beautiful for many years to come.

Then a flash of bright colour among the dark shades of the crowd drew him to..

Ah. His eyes widened in surprise; perhaps 'no hugging' was an extension of 'get out of Christmas' seat' rather than an American complaint against latin demonstrations of gratitude and friendship.

"Yeah. You might want to avoid getting between those two, from what I've seen. Even accidentally."

Looking over his shoulder, Galgo first raised a brow at Mister Doc, then at Mister Toll when he snorted behind the black man.

"'Accidentally'?? There's nothing accidental about your enjoying riling up Christmas."

Mister Doc shrugged, unconcerned, "I was here first."

"Even if you were *there*,” Mister Toll nodded to their intimately-standing leaders, ”First, you still gave up the spot long ago. Christmas *might* just let you run things with Barney without pitching a bitch fit. IF you'd quit poking at him and getting between him and the boss." But then he hesitated, eyes distant as though picturing an entirely different sight, "Might."

"Shouldn't lie to our teammates like that, Toll. Christmas can't keep his mouth shut unless someone's life depends on it. Or Barney makes him."

Mister Toll snorted at the fellow Galgo had only met tonight. Rome? No. Jul- Ceasar, yes. One of the 'old' team, whose wounding had sparked the 'war' Galgo was hired for. "Christmas ain't that bad, Caesar, *believe* me." Mister Ceasar responded with an interested expression, much as Galgo wished to, but Mister Toll shook his head, apparently refusing to elaborate.

It did not stop there, and was rather like watching a pantomime, each remark fuelling another, so Galgo had long since fully turned to watch the show. Now he waited for the rather mad-seeming blond having appeared at the back of the pack to add a comment, though the other three did not leave room as they moved on to ways the copilot, and Mister Ross, as well, could be teased. It seemed to Galgo the signs of a good team, that they felt free to tease their leaders so.

"Turn your back on 'em for just one second and they start to mutiny."

Galgo spun at the wry growl behind him, coming face to face with the copilot, though his eyes were not nearly so hard, now. Mister Ross was once again leaning on him, however: the hand that had seemed a hug from afar now seeming more of a support for a man in dire need of true rest. Even if he chose to pretend to be well enough to join the repartee.

"No mutiny, Barney; that takes too much brains for this crowd. More likely a lifetime of torture for our sins."

"Damn right, Christmas. Wouldn't want you to forget how to talk just 'cause there was nothin' ta bitch about."

"Your concern is touching, Gunner, but with you around, there's always something to bitch about."

As the copilot joined the pantomime, though without moving from his position as support, Galgo watched Mister Ross chuckle, a fond, peaceful look resting on his team before he glanced over, "Sure you want to join this circus, Galgo? They're always like this."

"I am certain. Though I hope you do not always make yourself so tired. Sir."

"He does. But when he doesn't chase Christmas off, he usually manages to nag him until he gets enough rest."

"I'm not *that* bad, Caesar."

Mister Christmas turned back to the boss with a snort for that claim, "Yeah. You are. Remember Rome?"

Now Mister Doc perked up, "Rome?"

"Insisted on running every damn detail himself and got himself so exhausted he fucking fell asleep on my shoulder. In a bar. Spent the rest of that mission turning away offers. From MEN! While in ITALY, for fuck's sake!"

Somewhere in the rant, Mister Ross had begun grinning at his right-hand, "You'll notice he's not bitching about the influx of offers."

"Shut up."

"Hey Christmas, we ever tell you about the jealous fit he pitched"

Christmas's eyes whipped to the tall Swede, "*Jealous* fit??"

"Yeah.. just before the bullets started flying. Musta forgotten to tell you, after."

"So tell now."

"Gunner..."

"What? Christmas had a shit time that mission, he deserves some cheering up. And you *did* pitch a fit."

"Ha! The ageing Romeo, yeah! How could I forget that scene??"

Christmas' mouth dropped at Mister Toll for a noticeable second before he choked out, "'Ageing Romeo'??!"

"Yeah. You missed the boss' fit 'cause you were busy trying to brush off a smiling white-haired guy without punching him. Longest five minutes of my *life*."

"You just don't know how to enjoy yourself, Toll, *I* couldn't decide which show was the funniest."

"Ross. Definitely. Almost snapped his own teeth off grinding them."

"You *would* enjoy that, Gunner."

Christmas' grin looked too big for his face, though Galgo did notice he did not once look toward Mister Ross.

Who sighed tiredly, "Don't think I don't see the grin, Christmas. After 15 years of your rants without a comment, I think I deserve a break for *one* slip."

If he had not been watching so fascinatedly, Galgo would never have noticed the softening of the copilot's features that turned their threat of mayhem to .. Galgo suddenly decided to be looking elsewhere, clearing his throat.

"We'll see. Demented bastard."

Mister Caesar met Galgo's eyes with knowing wryness as the boss' tired chuckle was the only response to the too-soft for anything but.. well. It was no one's affair but theirs. Certainly not Galgo's.

"Rest of you make sure the kids don't start a fight in here; I'm driving this one home before Smilee inherits the team earlier than planned."

"Will always left it to you, Christmas."

Galgo stilled warily in the sudden silence that had not a single smile in it, unsure who the others were so wary of.

Until the copilot spun his head and almost spit his words, low-voiced growl raising hackles even though it was only aimed at one man; who was affecting not to sense the danger. "You know damn well I won't take it!" Galgo wished he could step back from both of them without tripping over others, but then Mister Christmas seemed to catch himself, control slipping over the fury on his features, "Shut up. We're not talking about this. Come on. Night guys."

Calling out subdued good nights, Galgo and.. *his* team -perhaps he could say that, now?- watched Mister Ross almost trip over his feet following his very stiffly, if still slowly, marching right-hand, and looked at each other wordlessly.

Yes. His team. He and his team looked at each other in un-voiced worry for a moment before Mister Toll grimaced and muttered, "One can hope they'll actually work things out, this time." With varying expressions of disbelief, the others all turned to the bar, and Galgo, with a last glance at the, now empty, doorway, silently followed.


Chapter four: It only takes a moment:  What is there?
dec 4, 2014

AN:1) ..apologies for title. -shrug-
in my head this was always part of TEM...except it's L/B POV instead of Team!POV...which is different... sigh. Stupid engineer's analness.
And then i couldn't think of one.. so went reaching for last heard song.
...hey, if a movie can get its title from the last line of the movie, which only relates to the last scene of the movie... snort. I just ain't gonna feel that bad at my foibles.

2) I know I'm repeating a theme (3rd time, now, I think.. and there's another I'll hopefully resist posting...), my brains seems stuck on it and on coming up with the different ways it could go... This, however, was actually the version written first (all the way through to the RST, albeit there are thin spots where rough notes need filling in) and some time ago. Then Fireball, then Morons and Blow(unposted). Hopefully they are all different enough that you will forgive the repetition..


"Lee-"

"Not while I'm driving." He was keeping his mind on the lights, the road, the cars. He wasn't letting anything else get any traction in his thoughts. Watch the lights. Feel the engagement of the gears, the grip and give of the tires, the comfort level of the engine. Know what was around him and what they were doing. Know where he was going. Nothing else.

He knew there was more, could feel the demons trying to claw their way out, but he had a job to do and the rest was going to have to wait.

When Lee stopped the truck in front of Barney's little house, he didn't move from his seat, staring blindly into the night for a minute, slowly releasing the leash on the thoughts clamouring to get him. Distantly aware, as he fought to keep the pain and fury at a level where he could control himself, that Barney was staying quiet and still as though aware that he was the source of the pain. And the anger.

"If you-" he had to stop and breathe for another minute, keeping his eyes locked forward. "You- Do you SERIOUSLY THINK for one fucking second that I'd still be alive for them to manage to get *you*??"

When silence was his only response, he jerked his head to Barney. Finding him looking down, grim and grieving and tired and.. sad and old and fuck he hated this!

"I know."

Lee's fury stilled at the low mumble aimed at the man's hands in his lap.

"I know you'd be next to me. Know you'd throw your damned life away when you could live. I can't help.. hoping you somehow wouldn't."

Lee reached over and gripped Barney's shoulder, hard, needing to be understood. When tired, wounded eyes met his, he practically snarled, fury whose source he couldn't even see anymore rampaging through him, "I would never, NEVER, take over the Expendables! Even if you somehow-" he made himself relax his hand, faintly aware of bone in his grip, of the crack sneaking into his voice, "Even if you somehow manage to get yourself killed when I'm not there-" his jaw clenched and he jerked back as the memory of impossible pain lashed him. "Never mind. I can't do this." He missed the door handle on the first shaking grab, then managed to get it and would have scrambled out into the night if a hand hadn't closed on his bicep.

"Don't." The hand pulled him back in his seat, power gentle but refusing no for an answer. "Don't let yourself go there, Lee."

This time when he looked, Barney was the one to meet him stare for stare and he had to wonder if it was better. Had to wonder if his face was giving away as much pain and loss and fear as Barney's. "I thought you were dead." His voice was so raspy he hardly recognized himself. The weeks apart almost hurt more... but the agony of those seconds with smoke and debris blistering his desperately searching eyes was still too fresh to let anything else come out of his mouth.

"I told you I got a will to live."

"You don't have a lick of sense."

Barney laughed as painfully as Lee'd spoken, "Considering that everyone's calling me an idiot, I *am* slowly getting that message."

What was he supposed to do with that? What the hell did he expect from the man? Hell, were they even still friends, really, at the end of the day? It wasn't the first time Barney had tried to cut him out; but it was the first time he'd managed it. Had disappeared so they couldn't browbeat him. And then found fucking replacements to keep them away...

Working with Barney used to feel more intimate than sex, but the hardened pain that had been between them while going after Stonebanks.. did he really think he could keep going with that? Even without all this bloody talk about wills... "So what do we do now?"

Barney's head went back on the headrest, exhaustion and grief weighing his features down like the old man he'd never seemed before. "I figure I've got another five years on the outside before I have to admit I'm a burden to you guys. *Or*, I pull back now and..."

Lee snorted, glaring, trying to ignore the way his pulse was suddenly racing with fear; not again! Please not again. "And kill yourself from lack of sleep and worry."

"Lee-"

Watching those eyes close was worse, somehow. Shit he had to figure something- "*Or*, we talk to the guys and see if Caesar could run the old crew while Smilee gets seasoned running the new one." Please. "And I stay back with you to keep you sane and we cover their collective rears."

At least Barney reacted to that, eyes opening with a frown; not dismissing his words. "You're not ready to retire."

It took him a second to catch his breath in relief that Barney would actually talk it out. Then another to find an answer within himself. Hard to find answers in such messed-up chaos. "No." If he forced himself to look past the dark anger and hurt of recent times, if he focused on a good job: yeah, he still wanted that. "But I have my priorities, Barney." It took more guts to keep facing Barney and say this than it ever had to throw an insult at someone who outmatched him; he'd take the pain of broken bones and busted insides over what the wrong words here could leave him as. He wondered if Barney even suspected what he could do. "Have since I met you. Don't ask me how you got through the half-suicidal mindframe the service had left me in, but you did. Keeping you alive is a full-fucking time occupation. Everything else has always been secondary."

It was hard to tell with nothing but washed-out traffic lights, but he thought those tired features paled. Certainly he'd seen how Barney'd been shaking his head back and forth almost the whole time Lee spoke, making him wonder how much had actually registered.

"Why the hell would you give up the field when you don't have to?"

"Because-" He froze, staring at the man who used to be his best friend. Shit. If Barney didn't.. well if he didn't feel the same, didn't even understand *that* much... If *he* could just carry on without Lee...

Well. He had, hadn't he?

Lee could feel himself shutting down cold with that thought. What was there to add, then?

What was there to do? Looked like Lee was going to be looking for another life... maybe should have just turned a blind eye to the cheating. Wasn't this just what he'd unconsciously tried to avoid with that whole fiasco? Avoid ending up entirely alone? Maybe he'd known this was coming; felt it, somehow.

Blinded by his own thoughts, he nodded, whispering more to himself than anything else, "You're right," he opened the door without fumbling this time, "Night Barney." Have a good life.

The thought was quiet. Sad. Past the anger and pain.

He knew he usually had more strength to pick a fight and keep going even when he was losing; this wasn't like him. But he'd held on through the anger and the hurt twisting together and poisoning his every thought during those weeks of silence. Then the sick strain of *pretending* the moves of a friendship that used to be his lifeline, his life*blood*, every minute of it driving home that what they'd had was ruined and dead. And then the shock of thinking that even with Lee having been there, Barney was...

But.. this one final calm betrayal of what he'd always thought they shared... what did it leave?

He was done. Done in. The knife dancing in his chest told him *he* probably wouldn't have a 'good life'. He might have never felt this before, but not being able to breathe right couldn't be good. Maybe they lied all these years: maybe not smoking and staying in shape didn't keep you from having a heart attack. Should have just shared Barney's cigars all these years.

He wasn't tracking his movements, but he was suddenly standing past the truck's tailgate, staring into the empty, smeary-streetlight-lit night. Didn't really matter where he went. Bound to be a bar nearby.

The hand landing on his shoulder was a shock and he had a knife out before anything else registered. He jerked it back as soon as he focused on Barney's face, swearing and breaking into a cold sweat at how close- "What the fuck were you thinking??"

And Barney frowned, strangely uncertain worry in his tired eyes, "Sorry. You didn't answer. Where the hell do you think you're going, Christmas? It's pouring rain!"

Lee looked upward in surprise, suddenly feeling the trickle down his face and the tug of soaked clothes, "So it is."

"Damn it, Lee! Get in the truck. I'll drive you home."

Lee almost smiled automatically at the familiar exasperation. For just one second, he knew where he stood. "Hell no. It might be the last thing I do but damned if you're getting behind the wheel before you get some rest!" He turned to start walking again, not at all expecting to be tackled to the fucking *asphalt*! "Ouch! What the FUCK??"

There was furious fear in Barney's suddenly wide-awake features as he held his weight above Lee on his arms, the mercenary who'd survived almost 50 years as a warrior taking over from the broken man he'd turned himself into since Stonebanks blew away their lives. "WHAT THE HELL do you mean *last thing*??"

Lee blinked at the shout, only taking that second to realize how Barney had interpreted the words and barely resisting knocking his head on the pavement at his back, "Would you cool down, Barney? I just meant that I *WILL NOT* have you driving three-quarters asleep, no matter what it takes." It wasn't the whole truth. But he wasn't discussing quitting the team. Not again.

Except Barney looked a lot more suspicious than reassured. "Then how the hell were you going to get home?"

Home... "I can walk, Barney. I'm sure there's a motel near enough by." He didn't feel any cold; he could spend the night walking, even, he thought, staring, with eyes blinking away water every few heartbeats, at the halo of street-light behind Barney's head. Better than staring at motel walls...

He saw Barney go still, frown taking a confused edge, "Where.. don't you have a home, Christmas?"

"My attempt to get one of those didn't work out, remember?" When Barney's frown only got worse, Lee sighed impatiently, dimly glad to have such banalities to focus on. "Barney, the closest thing to a home I've had in years is the hangar," and now that was gone and fuck he couldn't think about that again; couldn't break now. "Motels are par to the course."

Except he'd picked up the bad habit of damaging them when his anger got out of control, which happened too often since- Well; he was getting kicked out a lot. Better than the streets, though. He wondered how long his money would last. The stream of water rushing down the edge of the sidewalk and under his back was a less than pleasant thought.

His wandering thoughts were pulled when Barney's weight landed on his thighs for a second as he got up to offer Lee a hand with an unyielding glare, "..Not tonight."

AN: More (RST) is written. I'm just not.. satisfied/done twitching it around. But if the first section is out of the file, then when i open the file i immediately see the next part..rather than twitch at tiny things in the first part -nods seriously- it makes sense. Really!
and this is interesting for all those times I ascribe chest pain to someone who just had their feeling kicked in their teeth http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Broken_heart


Chapter five : Let there be hope


He'd vaguely tried to argue that he was soaked and would make a mess. But that brief moment of knowing where he belonged was gone; and his drive to end this now and be done seemed gone with it. Barney's burst of energy had faded too, by the time they locked up the truck, and the hand that landed on Lee's shoulder to 'convince' him to come along was guilt-inducingly heavy. He couldn't make himself shake it off.

The heavily reinforced front door he'd helped Barney put in, years ago, closed with a smoothly-balanced click behind him, and the sudden warmth on his skin made him realize just how cold he'd gotten in the unusually chilly rain. He ended up shivering and stumbling toward the couch in the dark, neither of them thinking clearly enough to hit the lights. For once he didn't even have to argue with Barney: just a light shove at his shoulders got the man sitting, slumping, on the couch, and once Lee got himself down at one end, he even cooperated with laying down.

Barney's head damp on his thigh, soft couch under his back, old smell of gun-oil, some recent pasta sauce, and Barney's cigars... and Lee was ready to give up and just sleep there. Just this. Just these reminder of a better life for one last night.

Then he'd find a hole to crawl into and let everyone pick their own hell. He still had enough self left to know he didn't want to go back out there without... without his heart in the right place. The world had enough killers.

His eyes had barely closed, head tilted back to the high couch-back, arms loosely crossed, when Barney mumbled tiredly, "What the hell set you off?"

He tried to open his eyes, but it felt liked Gunner was holding the lids down over the burn he didn't want to acknowledge. Looking for an answer, he finally settled for muttering back, "When?" He wasn't getting in another argument unless he had to. And that question could lead to at least a half-dozen, all of which he tried to shove out of his mind as soon as they popped up. He was done, damn it!

Just had to make sure Barney didn't do anything stupid tonight.

He felt Barney's head shift and suspected he was getting a suspicious glare to match the slightly more awake growl, "Why did you get out of the truck?"

Oh. He *would* pick that. Maybe he wouldn't get one last night of peace. Too bad the anger had gone silent; he could do without more hurt. "..Ever.. have someone mean a lot to you.. and realize you don't mean quite so much?"

He felt Barney turn his head away, felt his shoulders hunching; as though he was trying to distance himself from Lee, "..Yeah."

And he frowned to himself, finally forcing his eyes open, *trying* to shove away worry for someone who didn't want it, but still plain *curious* to see if the reaction he'd felt and the grief he'd just heard were real.

And then wished he hadn't looked. He never *could* watch Barney in pain without his gut flinching.

Feeling distantly wistful that someone out there *had*, at least once, meant as much to the man who seemed to have no friends outside his team as Barney meant to him, Lee accepted that he was going to keep being hurt, one way or another. There was no way around it.

He was losing everything anyway, what was his pride against answering an old friend's question, against trying to give him peace? Even angry, and even reeling from thinking him dead, he hadn't been able to stop from checking him for injuries. Even trying and failing to silently bury sullen anger, he hadn't been able to resist teasing him, or keeping him from driving tired. Did he really think he could hold back anything Barney needed?

"Leaving you behind," he watched Barney turn his head back toward him, met uncomprehending eyes with the dulled heart left in him, "And still going out in the field... It isn't an option. Whether I quit *with* you or.. or just walk away, the field without you hasn't been an option in... since we met." He was focused in his own head, looking for the words to explain, when he felt a familiar touch close on his right arm.

And looked down into his lost past. Home. No more of that hopeless, martyred, lonely self-hate; the eyes he met right then had known and understood him through years of friendship and war- and were as *fond* as they'd ever been. *Home*.

Barney nodded slowly, movement clumsy against Lee's leg, tension regathering around his eyes as he chose his words with obvious care, "Being out there without you felt like I was crippled." It was Lee's turn to nod, the words resonating painfully, and the strained draw to Barney's eyes seemed to ease with the acknowledgement, voice losing its tense edge and starting to flow, "I fucking *know* I've never actually leaned my weight on you, but I still felt off balance every time I turned. Never realized how often I look for you." Lee had to smile a bit at that, remembering just how often he'd been jerked to a stop in the middle of a sentence the days after Barney shaved off the moustache. He was *well* aware, after that, of just how often they looked at each other. Barney's lips twisted in a bit of a returning wry grin before his eyes turned grim, "Was like I was missing a leg. Just as well Smilee and Thorn made their own plan and left me pretty much a grunt. I.. don't really want to think how.. I could have tried to do the real thing, without you at my back. Could hardly focus for feeling so fucking exposed."

It was a damn sight more words, and more exposing words, than Barney usually gave, and Lee had, half-unaware, uncrossed his arms and curled the one Barney gripped to wrap his own hand on *Barney's* arm; the clasp and the words were pushing boundaries for both of them -hell, so was sitting like this, if he was going to bother to think about it-, but after the tearing that had been done to his life recently, this was good for sanity. Real good.

Barney's eyes slowly dropped shut, looking like he couldn't keep them open anymore, but he kept up his end of the grip, just as he'd numbed Lee's knee during the flight away from the compound; even while snoring on his shoulder. And he managed to speak, if barely clear enough to be understood, "I *get* what you're saying, Christmas."

It didn't get rid of the pain that had buried itself in him watching Barney walk away, but at least... at least the future... wasn't black anymore. If Barney still -had really in the first place!- understood.. they could talk; maybe he'd listen to sense. Lee didn't have enough hope left in him, now, to really believe they could have the old teamwork again, whether in the field or as a support unit. But maybe, with the two of them working together, they could find something for Lee to do. Maybe he *could* heal up enough to start his life over. Again. Alone. Again.

He heard Barney's breathing change, and this time the grip did loosen, and he grimaced, annoyed with himself for having stopped at the couch at all. He reached for Barney's shoulder with his free hand and shook it gently, wishing he didn't have to. "Come on, Barney, you need to be in bed."

Barney's eyes jerked open, hand re-closing like a vise on Lee until awareness came back and he relaxed, grimacing an apology, "This isn't how I meant this to go."

Lee found an almost unforced smile stretching his lips for the first time in what felt like ages, and nodded, "Good point. The plan was to make sure you got the sleep you need. So come on, there's a bed with your name on it and a chair with mine." If he was going to move past this, if he accepted that Barney understood at least *something*, then he'd let his reflexes have another run at pretending they were the same men they'd been when they'd dealt with the mess Billy's death had left them in. He'd take care of his old friend one more time.

Neither of them bothering to jump to their feet like they were fit kids the way they would have in the field, they'd got themselves up and started toward Barney's room before the man mentally caught up and frowned, "Chair?"

"To sit in." Lee ignored the attempt at an exasperated look being thrown at him. Demented idiot should know better than to argue with him about sleeping. They *had* had this discussion a few times over the years.

"Lee."

"You've slept what? An hour a night in the week since we landed?" He turned his head to glare at Barney, "And the bastard did a job on you, don't think I didn't notice!" Barney'd practically passed out on Lee shoulder, for fuck's sake; and Lee'd fucking ended up with blood on his skin under his gear just from the cuts on the man's face! He turned back to avoid the idiotic antique outside the bedroom door, consciously unclenching his fist, "You've had a week to prove you could get the sleep you need without help. Now you get help whether you want it or not." Though it was a bit of a weird thought that the guys *expected* him to mother their boss into resting.

Lee got the light switch as they walked in, just catching the forced smirk sent his way, "Gonna sing me a lullaby?"

He snorted at the thought, "Not likely."

"Lee."

The time Lee rolled his eyes at the more serious admonition, "I'll make sure you don't get stuck in a nightmare. Just like I have before." Wasn't something Barney needed often, but there wasn't some other job's prep to explain Barney looking so tired, this time; he was having some sort of trouble sleeping. Just frog-marching him away from work and into bed didn't fix that one.

"You need sleep, too, this time. Bed's big enough for two."

Lee made sure to turn away to go grab the room's only chair and bring it to the bedside rather than risk Barney being awake enough to read him. That.. had hit a little too close to- Shut it down, Christmas! "I'm sure it is. But I'm told I'm an octopus in my sleep. I'm fine."

As expected, Barney dredged up a smirk, "An octopus?"

"Yeah. I snag anyone near, and cuddle," Lee shrugged casually, "Since that's a problem with most people, I make sure not to sleep near anyone." Something that had gotten him weird looks in the service. Even the guys in the team raised brows the first time they saw him set his gear at the edge of camp instead of with everyone else. Barney being Barney, he'd never made a fuss about such a minor peculiarity, though he had to have wondered as much as the others.

A reputation for being standoffish was better than either insulted comrades, or worse comments.

Barney just shook his head, smiling a familiar indulgent smile, "It's not a problem."

Anyone else, and Lee would have ignored the words and calmly insisted on his chair. Barney... For all that was fucked up between them, he didn't doubt his word. Didn't doubt his level of acceptance. Leaving the chair in case plans changed, they both got down to underwear, and a couple dry t-shirts Barney dug up, and laid down at opposite sides of the double bed, sheets thrown off in the house's warmth, and Lee fell asleep in minutes to the sound of Barney's slow breathing.

And woke what felt like seconds later, still on his side of the bed, to the sound of Barney thrashing. Swearing under his breath, he jerked upright and reached over grimly, catching flailing arms as he shouted, "Barney! *Wake up*! Come on, now-" He was less than surprised when one of the arms he was straining to hold tried to fly for his head just before Barney's eyes flew open with terror lighting them. "Barney?"

"Yeah."

Lee let his hands go and sat up, watching the man catch his breath and force himself to set aside the nightmare.

"That explains the new haggard style you picked up." He ignored the slightly piqued look he got and lay back down, in the middle of the bed this time, and patted the mattress next to him, "You can either shut up and let me sit in that chair like a good guard, or, if I'm closer, I'll feel you *start* to have a nightmare and not let it set in, so you can volunteer for the octopus treatment right off the bat by choosing which side to lay on."

Barney shifted over without hesitation until there was barely an inch between them, looking at him with tired confusion, "Which side?"

"Face the door and I'm at your back; or you turn and face me."

He was less than surprised at the faint smirk that got him, though from Barney it wasn't a threat.

"Feeling romantic, Christmas?"

He smirked right back, "I'm being a gentleman. Certain people have a problem with the other side." Pushing at Barney's shoulders until he laid on his back, Lee wrapped his arms around the man's t-shirt-covered ribs, ignoring the curious look aimed at him for the manhandling.

Then his pelvis slotted against Barney's hip to illustrate his point, the contact of their bare legs a shocking point of heat. And Barney stiffened for a second, but then relaxed with a huffed laugh, "Not a problem, Christmas."

And while Lee held still, suddenly wishing he'd thought it through beforehand and insisted on the chair, Barney shifted around a bit before settling with an exhale that sounded like nothing so much as contentment, his back spooned up against Lee's front as though they'd slept like this for years.

Lee was grateful the evening had been draining enough that his mind just shut the fuck up as he waited for the threatening sleep to slide into home base.


Chapter six : Morning has broken
dec 19, 2014


When Lee woke up again, slowly this time, his nose was buried in the joint between Barney's neck and shoulder and his arms and legs had the man wrapped tight. He hadn't slept so damned deeply in.. hell. Had he *ever*? So fucking physically comfortable, as though he'd been looking for this spot all his damned life.

The few people he'd actually *slept* with over the years had woken him whenever his hold had gotten even half this tight; even those who let him keep sleeping next to them. His sleep had always been restless, one way or another. This sluggish swimming up from deep darkness shouldn't feel so good.

But just-past-dawn sunlight was filtering into the room and into his eyes. And in that light of a new day, Lee remembered. And he knew it was time to go. Barney'd slept through the night, now; from past experience, Lee knew once he broke the cycle of dreams, Barney was usually good to take care of the leftover bits himself.

Lee didn't need to be here anymore. And the foolish thought that Barney would make a place for him, let along that it would somehow not break his heart every damn second to be reminded of what they used to be, was fading in the sun like the sleep was from his mind. He'd tried. Couldn't help continuing to try as long as he stayed here. To be himself. To be *them*. But there was no way he could have kept it up indefinitely, even if Barney hadn't decided to bail on him. Staying here would slowly poison every memory he had, and he didn't want that; couldn't bear that -an unplanned deep breath finished convincing him; he *wanted* his memories, as untouched and clear as he could keep them-.

Better to make a clean break. Or finish the break Barney'd started, anyway.

Decision made, it took a solid minute to work himself up to the reality of moving away from his warm, soft, comforting, spot; forever. Forcing his neck to pull his face back felt like he was ripping his own skin off; raw and cold and soul-deep *exposed*. And the chill spread into his bones with every limb he carefully pulled back, making sure not to wake the man he'd held.

Normally he wouldn't have been able to move at all without having Barney flash awake; only the way the moron had been abusing himself let Lee pull his leg out from between Barney's, and arm from around his chest, and under his shirt -don't think about that!-, without any reaction. Then as he shifted his body back, Barney shivered and twitched, and Lee froze, but Barney didn't wake any more than that, and Lee grimly, slowly, pulled his arm from under Barney's neck, and then got up. Ignoring his peripheral awareness of the man on the bed continuing to shiver and twitch backwards into the spot Lee had occupied. Ignoring the sick cold stiffening through him, and the burn in his eyes.

He'd pulled off the borrowed shirt and pulled his slacks up and was about to zip them when the twitches changed to jerks and his jaw clenched to force himself to ignore the unsettled breathing from the bed. Come on Barney, catch yourself, man...

"Nooooo-"

Lee never stopped to think: was scrambling for the bed at the first sound of that pained groan, reaching for the man now obviously thrashing.

"No-LEE! No-bastard-NO!"

"Barney! WAKE UP!" Lee ignored the hands painfully scrabbling at his skin for purchase, he was too busy holding onto Barney's jaw and trying to shout him awake. "SNAP OUT OF THIS! *Barney*!"

Then Barney's eyes snapped open, wide with terror and agony and Lee caught his breath in relief, "Barney. It's OK. It's OK." He had to ignore Barney's words. Wouldn't be able to breathe if he started thinking that the minute he'd let go of him, the damn fool'd had a nightmare about him.

"Lee?? You- He-"

"Shh." Lee shifted around to lay back in his spot next to Barney and pulled him back in the position they'd been in before, sparing a thought for his slacks against Barney's bare skin when he felt worn cotton against his own chest, "It was a dream."

He didn't say anything else. Held on as Barney's breathing very slowly calmed, head and shoulders slumping into Lee's chest and bicep with a night's familiarity. Then he actually hunched, pulling himself away from Lee, "Sorry, Christmas," the mutter sounded more dead than anything, "Go on."

And Lee's eyes dropped closed as the pain he'd tried to be blind to overran him. Too late. Too damn late to be safe. Fuck. He pulled Barney back, stubbornly wrapping every limb back where it fucking belonged. Where the hell did he get off thinking Lee would just leave him like this! "Shut up. Go back to sleep." Fuck, what did he do now...

"You don't have to stay."

He hurt too much to snort as that miserable mutter deserved. "I fucking well *know* I don't *have* to." It didn't matter if he left, now. He'd hear that wounded cry of his name every waking moment. And probably have nightmares of his own of the fear in Barney's eyes.

Feeling Barney very slowly give in to sleep again, though this time Lee felt tension stay in his shoulders and knew there'd be a frown on his face if he looked, he wondered how he'd missed recognizing that fear before. He'd *known* something was wrong long before Barney threw them out, known the man was taking Caesar's injuries worse than he'd taken others.

..If Stonebanks had really only picked off Caesar to hurt Barney... If the bastard had had time to watch him and Barney... Lee knew it'd always been obvious how close they were. There had been times before when people had tried to take advantage of it; but they usually had their own agendas, reasons to keep them alive. Stonebanks..

Would have killed him.

He buried his face in dark hair, torn; it didn't make up for destroying them. Didn't change the fact that life as he knew it was done. But it started to undo some of the bitter knots that had ended up in his head with all this.

Then one of Barney's hands jerked in his sleep and Lee tensed, wondering if another- Then the wide hand closed around the one he had splayed over Barney's heart; and held on. And Barney's shoulders finally relaxed. And when he curled up tighter on himself with a sleepy grumble, he dragged Lee's arm, and his body, with him until Lee was so fucking comfortably wrapped around him again that he sighed and felt himself go almost boneless without meaning to. Fuck! Ah gods, how could he give this up??

It was finally that needy anguish that kicked his old stubbornness back go life. Hell if he was giving everything up! Barney wasn't *always* a fucking idiot. Lee just had to get him out of this stupid mind-rut and get him to remember that he wasn't the Lone fucking Ranger. A copilot was damned handy in the tight spots the Expendables excelled at finding; and if they started running more than one multi-man team, having two evac-people could be more like an outright necessity if he didn't want to be stuck calling fucking Trench in every time.

And yeah, it'd probably hurt him to see Barney day in and day out without the old closeness binding them together -hell, it was going to hurt like a *mother* to sleep without THIS!-. But he could almost feel the stiff dark veil fading from his mind and body. Once he got Barney thinking straight again, he could wrangle him and a bottle of scotch into the same room and they could yell at each other until they got the last bits of this mess out into the open. Then... Hell, who cared if it took another 15 years to get back to the stupidly tight buds they were?! Those had been good years, the first time around; they would be again! Barney wasn't the only stubborn fuck in this outfit!

--

He'd tried to stay awake after getting Barney back to sleep, making plans to browbeat him into taking Lee back to the bar to get his bike. But before he could think of a way around how many motels had barred his name, he'd lost the battle against the utter comfort of his position, and fell asleep between blinks.

They hadn't talked when Barney slowly woke them up later and grumbled incomprehensibly as he headed for the can. Lee had just stared at the sun playing on the ceiling, and let himself drift until Barney came back, still looking half asleep even with wet hair and a towel around his hips, and mumbled for him to have his turn.

Coming out of the bathroom with his own damp hair over last night's slacks and a clean shirt that Barney had thrown in the bathroom while he showered, he heard the doorbell and called out a quiet "I'll get it" to the house, trusting Barney to hear, as he changed direction to turn the corner to the entryway instead of the kitchen to make coffee.

He had to smile wryly at the sight he found on the other side. "What are you doing here, Gunner?"

"Came to drop off your bike."

Lee snorted at the unconvincing bright smile aimed his way, "Took four of you to lift it?"

Caesar raised his arm with exaggerated care, blinking innocently, "I'm not allowed to lift. I supervised." The innocence brightened a few more blinding degrees, "Sleep well?"

Lee snorted again, shaking his head at Toll and Doc meeting his ironic gaze with their own innocence. But he still shifted to the side, "Just get in here."

"Lee?"

He was just about to close the door when Barney called out from the kitchen. And though Lee knew the call was a checkup for the bell, it had been way too mellow and sleepy-sounding.

He firmly ignored the stupid wide grins it caused in their guests, calling back "Just the guys" before he gave them a mock-severe look when they started to follow him to the kitchen, "Shoes off, you bloody savages!"

He was snickering to himself as he walked through the doorway, and Barney half-turned from the sink with a raised brow that turned into one of his softer smiles before looking over Lee's shoulder, "You chase them away?"

Lee grinned at him as he got mugs out from the cupboard next to Barney's head, "I wish. Just made 'em take their boots off."

Barney snorted wryly, "Better hope they don't see ours in the bedroom." He turned back to kill the water filling the coffee jug, asking distractedly, "You having coffee like civilized people today, or your funny shit?"

Lee shifted automatically backward to give Barney room at the machine, smiling to himself as he took the tin of tea haphazardly left next to the kettle on the counter, "There is nothing-" he hesitated in surprise as Barney leaned back into him slightly, hands not missing a beat measuring out the grinds for a full jug of coffee, "..uncivilized about tea. But I'll have some of that battery acid you're making, this time."

He felt Barney's chuckle against his chest as he carefully stretched out an arm to put the tin back in its usual cupboard, and it made it feel as natural as breathing to drop that hand to curve around Barney's nape, stroking at still-tense muscles.

"Long as you don't expect that hazelnut stuff; haven't refilled my stock since you finished those beans."

Lee frowned, bad experiences making him suspicious. He tilted his head forward over Barney's shoulder, who was still leaning against him, sniffing, and Barney held the grinder's lid up for him with a rude grumble that Lee ignored.

 

Caesar and Toll stared.

It wasn't that the bosses' coffee arguments were new, or having them stand a damn sight closer than most people did. But Christmas' hand maintaining a touch -on *anyone*- wasn't exactly common.

And the boss *leaning* on someone.... that was... unheard of.

"Smells alright. What is it?"

"Java and some kind of chocolate; all I got left."

Christmas shrugged, Toll's eyes widening as he seemed to flow even closer around the boss' back, like it was a familiar spot. Holy shit.. had they really, FINALLY gotten their heads in gear??

"Can't be worse than that Venice stuff."

"Just because you can't take a good strong cup-"

"That was *tar*!"

Toll interrupted the old argument before Caesar choked on his snickers or Doc bit the hand Gunner had over *his* noises, "That coffee maker better make more than one cup." He ducked the slow swat Caesar swung at him without expression.

Christmas stepped back to face them with no apparent reaction at being caught in such a compromising position, and Barney turned with him, just as casual.

The boss smirked at Toll, carefully not looking at Caesar, "Well of course it makes more than one cup. What kind of savage only makes one cup of coffee??"

 

Agreeing with Doc still felt damned wrong, but as the rest of the room seemed to all be privy to the joke, he and the other knifeman were left eyeing each other with baffled looks.

Caesar's muttered insults turned Barney and Toll's smirks on him, but also ended the strange exchange. Lee just shook his head and stepped further from Barney to get the milk and sugar out, letting the others start to chatter about food behind him. With the bike back, he didn't have to make Barney take him to the bar. Unfortunately, it still left the question of finding a motel.

He frowned to himself, looking for the powdered cream shit Gunner used, there was also the fact that Barney hadn't made it through the night. He'd have to come back tonight. It'd be a fight to make Barney let himself be babied that much, but the man needed to sleep; he was still badly tired and Lee wasn't leaving him in that state.

After everyone had had a few bracing slurps of coffee, Barney gave his surprise visitors a tolerant look, "So. Should I bother asking why you guys are here?"

Lee watched Caesar grimace, obviously and unsurprisingly having been elected beforehand, and return Barney's stare firmly, "Returning Christmas his bike and making sure you figured out who's inheriting us."

Barney turned his head to meet Lee's eyes through the crowd, and Lee raised his chin, clenching his teeth and sending back a stubborn frown. Hoping Barney would get the message that he wasn't giving in; and that there was going to be a fight if he tried to argue with Lee's plans again.

Barney kept watching him carefully for a few breaths, but then seemed to relax and almost smile.

"Alright." He turned to the guys, "Since you brought it up. We" and Lee was walking to Barney's side as soon as he heard the word, a rush of relief ripping the last darkness from his mind, "were going to ask you, Caesar, how you felt about leading the ops. And if the rest of you would be willing to give him the same respect you've given *me* all these years."

There was dead silence for a minute, hard stares from all four men at Barney, and at Lee, standing at his shoulder and staring back calmly. Then Caesar broke the tension with a joking tone backed by his still deadly-serious face, "Hell, I want more respect than *that*!"

Lee cracked a laugh and Barney snorted, adding very dryly, "That's *your* lookout, Caesar." He flicked his eyes at the others, "Guys?"

Gunner jerked his head at Lee, "Why isn't *he* taking over?"

The words were curious rather than challenging, so Lee answered with an equally casual shrug and tone, " 'Cause I never had any interest in trying to make you all show up at the same place at the same time. Idiots with demented ideas aren't enough to make me put up with that."

He hadn't noticed Barney sidestepping closer to him until his grin was less than a foot away, "You could have left the demented."

"So you two never thought to maybe talk about this before?" Caesar was more than a little sarcastic, eyes on Lee with a rare calm seriousness, "In all the years when he was obviously making you his second in command?"

Lee shrugged, "I have no problem being his second in command. I never saw that as automatically leading to command. *My* priorities were always clear."

"So, what? You're going to be *my* second in command now?"

"Lee's staying back with me." Lee found himself covering the last inch between them by laying a hand on Barney's shoulder, hoping his poker face was up to hiding the soul-deep relief ringing through him. "We'll help Tool to get you contracts and setup your supply lines. With the expanded team.. Tool wouldn't appreciate the extra work. And frankly, the impossibility of keeping up with you forever aside, keeping everything organized AND running ops for that many people... wouldn't have been my idea of fun, at this point. With Caesar running ops and training Smilee to do things our way, pretty soon he can take over half the team, we can split the jobs between you, and with me and Lee doing the paperwork... could be a good deal."

There was silence as Lee watched the guys look at each other, obviously thinking of the ramifications.

Barney cut in after a minute, "So. Are you guys cool?"

Caesar answered for them, looking mostly settled in his new role, at least for now. "Yeah. I guess."

"Good. Well I need breakfast. And I suppose if I cook food you're all going to beg for some too?"

--

Toll stepped into the living room with his cup, nodding to Lee, who'd been seconded to clear Barney's messes off the table so they could eat, with his quietly serious look, "Nice digs."

Frowning as he tried to figure out Barney's messy paperwork piles enough to keep them straight, Lee gave the demo man only a fast look in return, not really paying attention. "Yeah, I guess."

"You don't sound enthused."

He'd seen enough Expendables-related receipts among the more household ones to decide that *he* was damn well going to do the accounting. If Tool was letting Barney keep things in such a mess.. Lee finally remembered Toll's weird statement/question as he moved the last pile to a scratched-up little plastic side table off in the corner, and replied distractedly, "Why would I be enthused? They're Barney's. Go compliment *him*."

"I was more complimenting *your* choice of new digs rather than the boss' established house."

Lee's head jerked up, this time focusing on Toll properly to roll his eyes at him before frowning, the weird statement that *had* to be a tease touching too close to- No. Don't go there, Christmas. "Oh for fuck's sake, have you been taking lessons from Gunner on how to annoy people, Toll?" Not that the man looked nearly amused enough. Toll didn't usually play straight-faced jokes... had he been spending too much time with the damn bayou-crawler-

The tension of keeping his damned thoughts from straying down heartbreak road had him distracted enough that he almost jerked in surprise when Barney stepped up besides him, putting a stack of plates and cutlery down on the table as Lee registered the raised voices of the others through the open door to the kitchen.

And then one of Barney's hands was at Lee's nape; freezing Lee with the shock of never-felt contact. He could barely focus on the worried frown Barney was sending him, let along his quiet voice. "Why would it annoy? You said you thought of the *hangar* as home."

It took a few tries to make his lips form actual words through the distraction of memorizing the almost *possessive* touch of blunt fingers on his neck, and forcing his eyes to stay open. "I did. I do."

"If you're staying out of the field because of me..." the fingers stroked and pressed him some little bit closer to Barney's weirdly sad frown, "If last night's accommodations are a problem, I'd rather get you a pull out in the living room than think of you spending that much time alone in the hangar, Lee. Let along scummy motels."

Grabbing himself by the metaphorical collar, Lee forced himself to field-awareness, and stared hard into those familiar dark eyes inches away, searching for the old self-sacrificing habit. Instead, he thought he was actually allowed to catch sight some bit of hurt. Did Barney actually.. *want*...

To give himself a few seconds to evaluate the evidence, he looked around the spartan living room as though considering it. Then he made himself breathe the stress out as he turned back to Barney, watching him with familiar patience.

He was making an assumption. A big one. But Barney had taken a hell of a step, for him, by accepting Lee staying back; let along offering to share his home. Lee wasn't about to leave him dangling. Even if they were still damn well going to have a stiff discussion about Barney's fucking stupid recent decisions.

It wasn't easy to stop reacting the way he, *they*, always had, but... It wasn't that he hadn't *noticed* the way Barney had reacted to Lee's hold last night; and this morning. Didn't remember the way his own body had latched onto the man. Didn't register the way Barney had automatically continued to look for last night's closeness even as they stood in the kitchen... It was hard to let himself believe, let along hope for more, after he'd spent years teaching himself to not pay attention to the visceral, intimate link that was between them.

He'd *never* thought to have this! ..But if Barney was offering last night to continue... If *that* intimacy was important to him, then Lee was wiling to try and see if more might be welcome too. He was peripherally aware and glad that Toll had left at some point so he didn't have to fight self-consciousness as he took a step to get rid of the last space between them.

 

Lee in his personal space was nothing new; their boundaries had always been weirdly permeable.

Retiring from the field, *together*, sharing a bed -in any sense-; offering him to live here. Those were new things. Life altering things. But Lee was Lee. The wide smile suddenly brightening his face and making his fucking beautiful heart shine in his eyes was Lee. And Barney had never been able to resist smiling back at Lee.

Even when long hands, calloused and used to killing, but feeling gentle as nothing, now, came to rest on his cheeks. A month ago he'd have smirked a curious what-the-fuck. Today Barney Ross stood in his living room and waited to see what would happen, content that Lee wasn't going to disappear from his life the way he almost had last night.

"Your bed is not a problem."

He had a half second to taste those words against his lips before the hands tightened and tipped his head back a fraction and-

Being kissed was different than *kissing*.

The thought was disjointed. Mixed with his upper lip being sucked, and stubble brushing his nose, and taking his own turn sucking at the tongue that licked at the corner of his mouth. Mixed with his hands rising to grip Lee's -Lee's!!- shoulder blades; because no way he was leaving to chance the ending of this. It was different because damned few people braved his personal space, and the few women who'd thought to challenge it, he'd caught and held off effortlessly and automatically.

Different. And he let it be. Let himself be taken. Closed his eyes and surrendered the way he never had to threats and pain and hopeless fights. Returned the stroke of lips and tongue when he could, but otherwise--

"HeyyyYYYYYYY!!" "WhooooooEEEE!"

At first the rise of whoops and laughter nearby barely registered beyond the safe designation of 'Team'. But then Lee shivered, and pulled his head back a fraction of an inch, separating them, his hands catching Barney and keeping him from following him back into contact. Then Barney's brain kicked in, and his eyes snapped open. And met the rising joy in Lee's. Watched that beautiful smile and started chuckling with it.

Hell with the maniacs still hollering cheers nearby. He covered the space between them, Lee's hold loose, now, and touched another kiss to the corner of Lee's mouth, muttering low because he felt mellow rather than out of any attempt at secrecy, "Coulda planned that better."

Lee laughed softly, almost noiseless, but shoulders shaking under Barney's touch, his face leaning into Barney's neck as though to hide -or kiss him.. and just the thought of soft lips and stubble grazing was enough to make him wish to hell they were alone-. Both of them ignoring their nearby muttering team.

Barney felt Lee take a deep breath, shoulders expanding and air flowing over his neck, and his voice was a low husk, just as warm as that kiss had been, "Much better, yeah. Better hope chef Caesar took over your kitchen or breakfast is probably charcoal."

That should have made Barney jump into action. Fire was no joke; and his kitchen was the baby that *wasn't* supposed to get damaged. Unlike his poor plane. Priorities.

Lee raised his head and gave him a curious look, "Priorities?"

He shrugged, a little abashed that he'd said it aloud, "I got priorities too."

"Choosing between food and kisses.. that's tough."

"Only people who get regular sex would *ever* choose food over kisses, Caesar."

Barney grinned at Gunner's disgusted tone, Lee's knowing look telling him he knew that Barney agreed with the Swede. And that maybe Barney was feeding his ego more than a bit with the agreement.

AN: Any further chapters will be more in the way of anecdotes in the Universe.


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  Would read this fic every day :D
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