Wes knew trouble was on the way even before his father opened his mouth. The uncharacteristic silence, the thoughtful expression, the uncertain little glances...
“Is something wrong, Dad?”
“No. Well, maybe. Wes... There’s something we need to discuss.”
“What is it?” But he thought he knew that too. And he remembered the last few ‘discussions’ they had had.
The first had been only several weeks ago, when Wes had finally gotten up the courage to tell his father the secret he had been hiding for months. So many times he had imagined that scene, imagined himself saying the words, ‘Dad, I’m gay, and Eric and I love each other,’ fearing shock and rejection, hoping for - not happiness at the news, that would be too much to expect, but at least acceptance. None of his imagined scenarios had prepared him for the real thing, which had quickly turned to disbelief, anger, and accusations. They had made it up since then - Wes smiled a little at the memory of a rare apology - but harsh words, once spoken, are not easily forgotten.
There had been no more talk on that particular subject. Wes’s revelation and his father’s first reactions had disappeared into silence, the knowledge hovering over their lives like an invisible wall between them. Until now.
“Wes, son...” Collins turned his eyes towards the front of the limousine, as if to make sure the soundproof partition between them and Philips, in the driver’s seat, was in place.
Wes followed his glance impatiently. He wasn’t worried about their faithful family butler; he had the distinct impression that Philips not only knew, but might have known before Wes himself had. “Better hurry, Dad,” he said. “We’ve only got a twenty minute drive to Bio-Lab.”
“I know.” Collins faced him now with the look of a man facing something unpleasant but necessary. “Wes, it’s about - about you and Eric.”
“What about us?” Wes could hear the defensive tone in his voice and tried to keep his face neutral.
“It’s about your - relationship.”
“What about our relationship?”
“Now, son, you know I’m not judging either of you-”
“Like you did before?” Again Wes heard resentment in his own voice and saw the pained expression on his father’s face. He sighed, turning his head to look out of the car window at the passing street as Collins’ voice went on.
“I’ve said I’m sorry, and I meant it. What I’m talking about now is not how I feel about it.”
Meaning you still don’t like it. But Wes turned back, and nodded. “Okay. Go on.”
“As you know, Bio-Lab has a policy about - uh - couples working together.”
A dawning suspicion narrowed Wes’s eyes. “And?”
“And you and Eric have - well - that kind of relationship now. And you’re working together.”
Wes couldn’t quite keep the irritation he felt from showing in a sarcastic tone as he answered, “And as you know, that rule applies to married couples. As you also know, Eric and I couldn’t get married even if we wanted to. So what are you talking about?”
“Now, Wesley, I’m trying to have a reasonable discussion here...”
“Oh, boy...” Wes didn’t even try to keep the annoyance out of his voice this time. “Every time you call me ‘Wesley’ I know you’re about to talk to me like I’m ten years old.”
“You’re absolutely right, Wes, you’re not a child.” Collins smiled slightly, as if he thought he had won a point. “You’re a man now, an adult, and as an adult you should be putting your personal feeling aside and thinking about the good of the company.”
“Are you sure it’s not your personal feelings here? Would you be saying this if Eric and I were a man and a woman?”
“Of course.” Collins waited for Wes to look directly at him. “I know I reacted badly. I know I still have a problem with it. We all have biases and prejudices, even the best of us, and I’m far from the best. But I’m trying; I’m working on it.”
It sounded sincere, but... “Then why are you bringing this up?” Wes demanded. “Eric and I aren’t breaking any rules.”
“Maybe not technically, but in spirit, in the purpose of the rule...” Collins waved a hand in the general direction of Bio-Lab, which they were rapidly approaching. “There’s a reason couples shouldn’t work closely together, especially in an organization like the Guardians. What if your feelings for Eric affect your judgment in a crisis? What if you’re not willing to let him go into a dangerous situation when necessary? What if one of you can’t stay cool in a crisis because you’re worried about the other?”
“The same thing applies to you, Dad,” Wes said with an ironic smile. “You run the company, including the Guardians. What if someday you’re not willing to let me go into danger when necessary?”
Collins frowned. “It’s not the same thing.”
“How?”
“Well... Okay, you’ve got a point. But - I let you go off alone to fight Doomtron, remember. That was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done - but I’ve proven I can handle it.”
Wes leaned towards him. “Remember, Eric let me go then, too. Haven’t we proven how well we work together, both as Rangers and as Guardians?”
“Sure, but that was before you started this - this relationship. It’s my responsibility to wonder about how that’s going to affect the Guardians and the company.”
Wes withdrew back into his seat. This was totally unfair... and yet... had he done exactly what his father was talking about on the mission they had so recently returned from, in the far future? Had he acted foolishly by risking his life to rescue Eric? But it had turned out to be the right choice, hadn’t it? Still, it could so easily have gone wrong... No, he had risked only himself, not the mission, and he would still stand by that decision.
“I don’t see how Eric or me leaving is going to help the company,” he muttered.
Collins held up a hand. “Hold on, I didn’t say anything about anyone leaving. You and Eric are two of my most valuable employees. I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not doing this to try to separate you.”
“Coulda fooled me.”
“Wes...”
“All right, you’re just thinking of the Guardians and the company. But I think you’re wrong. Eric and I can handle this.”
“It’s not just you.” Collins sighed again. “You asked if I’d say the same thing if you and Eric were a man and a woman. Yes, I would. But there’s another problem, and it’s got everything to do with the fact that you’re both men. What about the Silver Guardians? If they find out about you two, how are they going to take it? How many of them are going to decide they don’t want to work with you anymore?”
Wes had turned his head to stare out the window, jaw clenching, his father’s words recalling Eric’s almost identical warnings a few weeks ago. Now he looked up again, his eyes hard. “That’s their problem, isn’t it? Not ours.”
“If enough of them feel that way it’s your problem, too, and Eric’s, and mine.”
“Well...” Wes looked blindly out to the street again. “I don’t know. But there’s no reason for them to find out. Not like Eric and I are going to make out in front of them.”
“I would certainly hope you’d keep that kind of thing out of Bio-Lab.”
Wes frowned; wishing circumstances weren’t forcing them into these rides together twice a day, to and from work. Not for the first time, he wondered whether it wouldn’t be better to move out, just get away from the stifling atmosphere that had pervaded his home. But where? What he’d really like would be to move in with Eric, but that might invite suspicions about their relationship. Eric would never go for it. Besides, he wasn’t at all sure they were ready to work together and live together. That left living alone, which was less appealing to Wes than just staying where he was and hoping things would get better.
“Well, if you’re not planning to kick one of us out, what do you suggest?” he asked.
“There are a few options.” Collins hesitated only for a moment. “You could phase out your Guardian duties and get more involved in the business side.”
“Is that what this is all about?” Wes gave a harsh snort of laughter. “You know I’m no businessman, Dad. I love working with the Guardians, and I want to keep on doing it. With Eric.”
“At least think about it. We don’t have to do anything right away.”
“And I don’t think we need to do anything at all.”
Philips’ voice from the car intercom interrupted the brief silence that followed. “We’re here, sirs.” Wes came out of his own thoughts to see that they were pulling into the entrance to Bio-Lab. “Do you wish me to park in the Silver Guardians’ garage?”
Collins leaned forward and pressed the button to lower the partition between them. “Just drop me off, Philips.”
“No.” Wes frowned at his father. “Yes, Philips, the garage. We’ll get out there, Dad, and I’ll escort you to your office.”
“Just because some nutcase made a couple of threats, I have to rearrange my life,” Collins grumbled.
“It’s more than ‘some nutcase’. Whoever it is already blew up one of our warehouses. Just luck that no one was killed. We have to take the threats you’ve gotten seriously.”
“I don’t like having guards hanging over me all the time.”
“I guess that includes me.”
“No, of course not.” Collins produced a smile and dropped a hand on Wes’s knee as the car slowed to a stop in the Silver Guardians’ garage, a large, secure facility used for parking, servicing, loading, and fueling their black SUVs and other vehicles. “You’re probably sick of babysitting me, though.”
“Just doing my job,” Wes said without a smile.
He saw a trace of hurt cross his father’s eyes and looked away, watching as a uniformed Silver Guardian, apparently the only one in the garage at the moment, hit the switch that lowered the sliding doors they had driven through and then came to attention and started towards their car. There was movement in the front seat as Philips reached to open his car door and began to get out.
And then the world exploded.
Wes didn’t understand it at all. Why was he lying in some strange, dark place? Why was the air so dusty that it made him choke? What was that sharp, pungent smell? Why was he lying on something lumpy, instead of... instead of...
The car. The garage. The explosion.
“Oh, God!” Wes pushed himself up, wincing as his head hit something. The ‘something lumpy’ he had been lying on... “Dad!” he cried frantically. “Dad, can you hear me?”
“Wes - Wes - yes - are you all right?”
“Yeah. Are you okay?” Wes moved back as far as he could, and saw the dim form of his father straighten and climb back into the car seat with a groan. “Are you hurt?”
“A few bruises, I guess. It’s nothing. What happened?”
“An explosion. Dammit, how could someone get in here to plant a bomb?”
A moan from the front seat cut off his father’s response. “Philips!” Collins exclaimed. “Philips, are you all right?” He slid forward and tried to lean over the seat back, cursing as his head banged into the car roof that Wes could see had partially collapsed above them.
Wes was already struggling with the door, which stuck stubbornly until he kicked it open. Outside, he paused, looking around. The lights were out and the air was thick with a dusty haze, but as his eyes adjusted the small, high windows let in enough sunlight to let him make out his surroundings.
The garage was a shambles, littered with pieces of debris and chunks of plaster from the ceiling. Several of the black SUVs had been thrown and tumbled onto their sides or upside down. At least one had been blown apart; he could see fragments of metal. And there was a sound - of liquid running... and that smell, even stronger now.
“Dad,” he said tensely. “Don’t try to turn the lights on. And don’t use your cellphone.”
“What? What is it?”
“Gasoline. One of the tanks or pumps we use to gas up the cars must be leaking, or maybe some of the cars themselves. Can’t you smell it?”
“Yeah, you’re right, I do.”
“The air’s full of fumes, and the slightest spark could set it off. Lights, definitely. Cellphone - I don’t know, but better safe than blown up.” Wes took a few more steps, dismayed as his boot splashed into wetness. “Damn, it’s running over the floor!”
Wes returned to the car and leaned into the front seat. While he and his father had been partially protected by their closed car door, Philips had been getting out when the explosion happened. He had gotten the full impact and apparently been knocked back into the front seat of the car, where he was now lying. Alive, but hurt. “Philips!” he called. There was no answer beyond another moan.
Collins was out now too, and standing at Wes’s side. “Can you see anything?” he asked. “How bad is he?”
“Don’t know,” Wes answered shortly. “He may have hit his head on the steering wheel.” He stepped back. “Keep talking to him, but don’t try to move him. I’ve got to find Johnson.”
“The Guardian we saw?” Collins’ voice was grim. “Okay. Be careful.”
Wes found only rubble where he vaguely remembered seeing Johnson just before the blast. He paused, trying to think. From the pattern of debris, the explosion had come from near the doors leading to the main building, probably from one of the SUVs which had been parked in a row. He moved in that direction and then stopped, fighting off a wave of dizziness. The destruction was worse than he had thought - lucky for them there had been a couple of large trucks in the way or they’d probably all be dead.
He turned back and picked his way, searching - and found Johnson by almost stumbling over him. The Guardian was almost invisible, lying unmoving and covered with dust and plaster. Wes cleared the worst of it away with a couple of sweeps of his arm and knelt over him. Not enough light to watch for breathing. He leaned close to the man’s face and felt a whisper of breath even as his fingers found a weak and thready pulse. Alive. But for how long? The floor was wet with gasoline. The fumes were getting stronger; the danger of another, more devastating explosion and the resulting fire was getting more immediate.
They needed help. Someone was bound to arrive any time, and they would have no idea of how dangerous the situation was. Plus Eric or one of the other Guardians would probably try to phone at any moment. He had to contact them first. Get out and head them off. Climbing to his feet again, Wes stumbled in the direction of the doors, past where he estimated the explosion had originated.
And backed away as he saw the remains of at least two SUVs in a jumble of rubble, wedged against the exit and effectively sealing it. No good. He crossed the room to the vehicle entrance leading to the outside - there was no power to raise the doors, of course - struggled to raise them manually, heaving at the handles only to have his sweat-slippery hands lose their grip, scraping painfully in the process.
“Can’t you get them open?”
The voice startled Wes. He turned to see his father behind him. “No. They must be jammed.”
“Come on, I’ll help you.”
A minute or two later they were both panting with effort but no closer to rescue. “No good,” Wes gasped. He leaned against the door.
“You can Ranger up and get them open, can’t you?”
“Too risky. Morphing - there’s a flash of energy. Could set off the gas.” Wes looked around the room. “We’re trapped. Johnson’s hurt pretty bad.”
“Philips is conscious now, at least.”
“How is he?”
“I think you’re right; he hit his head. And I think his shoulder is broken or dislocated. I told him not to move.” Collins took a deeper breath, and coughed. “Wes, we can’t take these fumes much longer. I’m feeling sick and lightheaded already.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I thought it was shock - but it’s the gasoline... toxic fumes. We have to get out of here.”
“Why isn’t someone here already? The Guardians, and a medical team?”
“The door’s blocked. They’re probably trying to get in right now, but they don’t know what they’ll be walking into.” Wes raised his arm. “The communicator in my morpher should be safe to use. I hope. Dad, you’d better get back in the car, just in case.”
He could barely see his father give him an ironic smile. “Not much point, is there, if this whole place goes up? I’ll stay.”
Wes returned the smile before raising the morpher to his face. “Eric!” he called. “Eric, can you hear me?”
“Wes!” The familiar voice came almost immediately. “Wes, there’s been an explosion in the SG garage. Where are you?”
“I know. I’m inside.”
“You’re... You’re where?”
“I’m in the garage, and so is Dad. And Philips. And Johnson, he was on duty.”
“Shit! Are you okay?”
“For now. So’s Dad, but Philips is hurt, and Johnson is pretty bad off.”
“Damn. Wes, we’re on our way, but the doors are blocked.”
“I know. There’s cars lying up against them. The outer doors won’t open, either; I guess they’re jammed.”
“Can you morph and knock them down?”
“No. Something’s leaking gasoline in here. It’s all over the floor. That’s why I didn’t use my cellphone, and morphing might set it off too. Eric... the fumes are pretty bad. We have to get out soon.”
“And we can’t use drills or anything electric. Nothing metal either; that could cause a spark. Damn!” There was a brief pause, with several voices murmuring in the background. “Okay, listen. The outer doors are reinforced; we’re not going to break through them anytime soon. The windows are too small for a man to get through. We’re going to have to use rubber mallets to break a hole in the wall.”
“Understood.”
“And Wes - we have to turn off the ventilation system. The motors could spark the gas. We could try to open the vent windows but gasoline vapor is heavier than air; wouldn’t do much good. It’s going to get worse in there.”
Wes took a deep breath, the choking reminder of the poisonous air they were trapped in doing nothing to calm him down. “Okay. Got it. How long?”
“As soon as we can.” Eric’s voice lowered just a little. “Hang in there, okay? I’ll get back to you in a few minutes.”
Wes smiled faintly. “Will do. Stay in touch.”
Wes lowered his arm and stood for a moment, trying to think. He closed his eyes, but opened them when a wave of dizziness swept through his head, making his stomach twist uneasily. In fact, he had been feeling queasy for the last few minutes. That smell, so strong - and the vapors were affecting him, he realized. He’d feel sicker and sicker, fade away into the sleepiness that was already creeping over him, and finally just lose consciousness, maybe forever...
“Wes?”
He turned to see Collins, still beside him. There was more to worry about than just himself: there were three people who were counting on him to keep them alive. For a moment it hit Wes hard as he looked up into his father’s face, now drawn and fearful in the dim light. All his life his father had been the strong one, the powerful one, the one who took care of everything. Now, more than ever, everything had turned around, and Wes again found himself in the role of protector.
Just doing my job. His own words came back, making him smile inwardly. This was his job, and more; it was what he knew he was meant to do.
“It’s okay, Dad. They’re going to break through a wall. We just have to wait. I’m going to see if I can shut off that gasoline leak.” Not that he had much hope, but it gave him something to do.
“I’ll go with you.”
Wes rubbed his stinging eyes and tried to blink the fogginess out of them as he stepped over chunks of rubble. The sound of running liquid had subsided into a steady dripping, which led him to one of the two fueling stations. He swayed, trying to see, but all he could make out was a jumble of metal and hoses. “Can’t tell where it’s coming from,” he muttered.
“No... Nothing we can do...” Collins said, his voice hoarse. “Go back to the car... Wait, like Eric said...”
It seemed to be getting darker, and warmer, the polluted atmosphere of the garage turning into a hot blanket of haze, smothering him. Wes put a hand over his nose and mouth, trying vainly to get a breath of good air. There was a chirping sound. As he blinked in confusion, it came again. His morpher, he realized, and quickly raised it to his face.
“Eric?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Wait a second... Dr. Zaskin’s here. He wants to talk to you.”
“Okay.”
Dr. Zaskin’s concerned voice came from the morpher a moment later. “Wes? Wes, how bad is it in there?”
“Bad. Gasoline over most of the floor. Don’t know how much longer we can take these fumes.”
“Wes, listen to me. The fumes aren’t going to kill you before we can get you out, but they may make you lose consciousness. Just avoid contact with the gasoline. Make sure you don’t fall into it or get it on you. You can absorb enough toxins through your skin to - to be harmful.”
“Johnson!” Wes exclaimed. “He’s on the floor, lying in it.”
“That’s bad. He’ll need medical attention, and quickly.”
“I left him... Didn’t think I should move him... Didn’t want to - to make it worse...”
“Wes,” Eric’s voice had returned. “It’s okay, but you’ll have to get him off the floor anyway.”
“I guess... but...”
“Wes! Wes, listen to me. The fumes are getting to you. Just hang on for a few more minutes. As soon as we find out where there’s no pipes and beams in the wall, I’ll morph and break through.”
Wes steadied himself with a hand on the side of a ruined SUV. “Eric - be careful, okay? Don’t rush it. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt, including you.”
“Don’t worry about us.” Eric’s voice was warm. “I’ll keep everyone back, and come in first. The suit should protect me if... well, it should protect me.”
“I hope so,” Wes said reluctantly. “Just - just be careful.”
“Try to find someplace you can seal off. Inside one of the cars or trucks, maybe.”
Wes tried to focus, scanning the vehicles. All damaged. Someplace closed off. Someplace better than out here. “The office!” he exclaimed. “The back office. Not much damage back there, should be okay.”
“Good! Good idea.” There was a pause. “Wes... I gotta go, but I’ll see ya in a few minutes. Hear me?”
“We’ll be waiting,” Wes whispered, and closed his eyes, just for an instant, before lowering his arm and looking around decisively. “Come on, Dad. We’ve got to help Philips and Johnson.”
“Terrorist-proof.” Collins chuckled quietly. “Reinforced walls and doors. Everything electronically controlled. Those little windows, up too high to do us any good anyway, screened and sealed in case of a gas attack. We made the place almost impossible to break into. Never thought I’d end up regretting it.”
“You haven’t ‘ended up’ yet, Dad. We’ll get out.” Wes tried to smile reassuringly.
They had found the tiny office almost undamaged, except for a spiderweb of cracks in the shatterproof glass of the windowed front wall. The air inside had been noticeably clearer. They had helped a semi-conscious Philips inside, trying not to hear his tense gasps of pain. Then the delicate task of carrying Johnson while keeping his head, neck, and back as straight and motionless as possible - with Wes feeling grateful for the endless drills in first-aid and rescue procedures that Eric had insisted he go through. In the process he suspected they had brought a good deal of the fumes with them, but it was still an improvement. Now there was nothing more to do but wait.
“Wes?”
“Huh?” Wes realized he had been drifting. The drowsiness was back, worse than before. “What, Dad?”
“Want you to know... You’ve acted like a real pro through this whole thing. I’m proud of you.”
“Yeah? Thanks. You’ve been great, too.” Wes grinned, surprised at how pleased he felt. After all the ways he knew he had disappointed his father... By being gay? Nothing to be ashamed of, he told himself, of course not, and yet - he still felt badly about it... We all have our biases and prejudices... I still have my own, don’t I? Even against myself... Something to work on, to change, if they got out... When they got out...
Faint and far away, Wes heard chirping again. He raised his arm to stare blearily at his morpher before answering, “Hello?”
“Wes? Wes, how are you holding up?”
“We’re okay... I guess...”
“Are your dad, and Philips, and Johnson with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Are they okay?”
“I guess.... Hope so, anyway.” He turned his head. His father was slumped against a wall, coughing weakly. Philips and Johnson were lying nearby. Couldn’t tell if they were still breathing.
“We’re about to break in. You’re all going to be all right, Wes. Just another minute, and I’ll be there.”
“Yeah, see ya... in a minute...” Wes let his arm fall.
“Wes...” His father’s voice was low, but surprisingly steady. “You and Eric. You’re a natural team. Want you to know... I was wrong... you two should be together... on the job and off...”
“Thanks, Dad,” Wes tried to say, but the words came out in a mumble. The warm blanket of fog was back, lifting him until he was floating peacefully, drifting slowly away from that small office, and the smell of gasoline, and Bio-Lab... and Eric... He felt a vague pang of regret.
Now his head was pounding - but not painfully - vaguely Wes realized the sound was outside his head, not inside. There was a thumping, a banging, and a crashing. Voices. An odd whooshing. With detached curiosity he looked through the windowed wall to see what he assumed was an hallucination - a figure in red, armed with a canister and hose, followed by several more in bulky white outfits like space suits. All of them were spraying a cascade of white, foamy liquid over the floor where it piled up in drifts like soapsuds. He chuckled softly. It looked funny.
The person in tight red and black headed straight for them, spraying a path of foam as he came, and then tossed his canister aside before bursting through the office door. Eric took a moment to check on Collins, Philips, and Johnson before kneeling at Wes’s side, reaching out to grip his shoulder as more of the white-suited people crowded in after him. “Wes?” he asked, voice rough.
“About time,” Wes murmured, before quietly allowing himself to pass out at last.
“Repairs are coming along on schedule, sir,” Eric said. Wes, standing beside him, glanced at his profile: face blank, as professional and impersonal as his voice. “The spilled gasoline has been neutralized with biochemical agents and cleaned up. We’ll be getting the floor and foundations inspected for contamination before using the garage again. The underground gas tanks are undamaged; all the leaking came from a pump that was hit by a piece of debris, so at least we don’t have to replace them. Several of the SG vehicles are beyond repair, though.”
“How’s Guardian Johnson doing?” Collins asked.
A trace of emotion crossed Eric’s face. “He’s being discharged from the hospital tomorrow. I’ve put him on indefinite medical leave, but the doctors think he’ll make a fairly good recovery.”
“That’s good news, at least.”
“And Philips is doing well,” Wes added.
“Yes, he’s already insisting on getting back to work, with his arm in a sling.” Collins smiled. “I suppose we were lucky.”
“At least we got the guy,” Eric said with grim satisfaction. “Clever of him to get his own car fixed at the same place where we get our SUV’s serviced, and to plant his bomb in one of them. But not so clever that a couple of the mechanics didn’t notice him poking around where he wasn’t supposed to be.”
“And since they had his name and address,” Wes added, “it wasn’t hard to get a search warrant and find all the evidence we need, including the remote detonator he used from across the street to set off the explosion when our limo arrived. In a way you were right, Dad; he’s just a nutcase who hates big business in general and Bio-Lab in particular.”
“Nice work by everyone involved,” Collins said briskly. “But that bomb should never have gotten inside Bio-Lab. We’ll have to improve our screening procedures to make sure this kind of thing never happens again.”
“Yes, sir,” Eric said.
“Good. Thanks for the update.” Collins turned his attention back to the printout he had been idly turning in his hands, in an obvious dismissal.
Eric saluted and started out, but Wes hung back. “I’ll be out in a minute,” he said to his partner. He got a curious glance in response, but Eric just nodded and continued on his way, closing the door behind him.
“Was there something else, Wes?” Collins asked absently.
“Well, yes.” Wes moved closer, to stand on the other side of the desk, and waited for his father to look up inquiringly. “Dad, do you remember what you said in the garage office, just before Eric broke the wall down?”
A corner of Collins’ mouth turned up. “Yes, I remember. Why?”
“Just wondering. Because I intend to hold you to that.”
“Maybe I do my best thinking when I’m half-conscious. I meant what I said. You and Eric make a great team, and it’s obviously to the company’s advantage to keep that team together.”
“To the company’s advantage.” Wes grinned. “I like that. Thanks, Dad.”
“You’re welcome. Now get back to work.”
Wes saluted smartly. “Yes, sir!”
The grin got even wider when he went through the office doors to find Eric waiting. “You look happy,” Eric commented with a wry look. “What was that about?”
“Nothing.” Wes rested an arm over his partner’s shoulders as they started away. “Nothing at all.”