Author's Note: The medicine in this short is total fiction (well it's all fiction, right?) but it gets the story where it needs to go. Will you believe this was just going to be a little ficlet on how Colby and David work things out Spoilers for 'Trust Metric" and "Hollywood Homicide." I hope you like my version of how the boys come together again. Hopefully, we'll see the really deal in the next week or two.
I'm not from LA, but I got a nice run down on the neighborhood by google earthing the LA FBI address so the streets around FBI LA headquarters and the close proximity to the UCLA Medical Center and campus are pretty accurate. Its a nice neighborhood. Maybe too nice for a mugging like I outline here, but I can tell you one thing. People don't seem to walk on the streets like they do in. If homeland security comes after me for accessing satellite photos of 11000 Wilshire BLVD, you all will vouch for me right?
Gimme a Sign
The team was broken. Megan stared morosely through the glass at the 'boys.' They were all sitting only a few feet apart but it might as well be different planets. Her greatest frustration was not knowing how to bring her team mates and three closest friends together.
Sure, they had just solved the Brett Chandler case. Professionally, Megan was sure that not a single member of the team operated at less than 100. But the cracks were there. Like a fine porcelain vase glued together. It looked good, but pour some water in it and it'd leak like a sieve.
She didn't need to be a profiler to tell Colby was a raw nerve. It was like the drugs were still coursing through his system. First it was his barren desk. She could see him rationalizing the disappearance of all his personal items but foremost she could see the lost look of the boy picked last to be on the team. Colby's actions unquestionably made him a hero, but he had walked into the office without greeting anyone, not even making eye contact, more nervous than his typically more jaunty self.
Thankfully, Don joined her to greet Colby. He showed genuine pleasure at seeing the younger man. Yet, all through the Chandler case, Don seemed to be preparing himself to lose Colby to a plum assignment. And it seemed obvious to everyone but Don and Colby – the senior agent was genuinely proud of his subordinate and held no grudge against Colby's secrecy. Who better to understand mission-critical op procedures than Don Eppes? So why couldn't Don just say they needed the younger agent?
And then there was what Liz told her. Colby seemed certain that Don had partnered him with Liz to check up and report on his conduct. This just didn't track with the cocky, wiseass demeanor that Colby normally sported. And more worrisome still, when Liz told Don about Granger's reaction, Don asked her how he was doing. Could there be more insecurity to go around.
Why, yes. Yes there was. David thought he had lost his best friend. Thought he had been lied to. But mostly, he was lying to himself. His anger at his former partner was simply a smokescreen. No, not a smokescreen, though Megan – a shield. Colby walking, talking and breathing was a reminder of how many times David had denounced him, scoffed at the chance that Granger was one of the white hats. And with every remark, he'd almost derailed the investigation. If he had managed to convince Don, herself or Charlie – faithful, kindhearted Charlie, or maybe even make them doubt or delay – those precious seconds would have meant Colby's life. A good and honorable man would have gone to his death never knowing that all his sacrifices and pain would make a difference.
David's anger was at himself, but he unconsciously turned it on Colby because he could not face that he might be the betrayer and not the betrayed.
Don and David had to see that Colby had defied his mandate from counter intelligence and trusted the team with everything that meant anything to Colby… the success of his mission, the safety of his country…his life. Granger took the first step. Now David and Don needed to deal with their issues in order to help Colby put all his ghosts to rest.
Granger toyed with the envelop. Two years ago, he might have said the contents were the culmination of all his hard work. He had carte blanche to pick any posting. He could go to DC, work in counter intel, whatever he wanted. The damned irony of it all was that Colby just wanted it all back as it was, before he had been a traitor, a spy, a damned hero. He just wanted to be part of the team again. But he had pushed them too hard and he just did not have the heart to force Don to take him back. David was so angry that he was sure he would leave the team rather than stay on it with 'Granger.'
Colby did have to smile. Charlie didn't change. He simply plugged the agent into an equation that did not seem to work. The mathematician reworked the equation and shazam – Colby was the constant and the situation was the variable.
Megan seemed to understand better than he expected. He had the sneaking suspicion that her trip to DC had something to do with unpalatable compromises as well. Though she welcomed him with open arms and her sweet big sister smile, he could see the conflict was wearing on her. They'd all be better off if he just left. So why could he face torture and death but not be able to finally pull the plug on this farce and let his team go.
It was almost lunch and he couldn't face the awkwardness of David finding an excuse to skip lunch or making Megan, Don and Liz figure out who would go with Colby and who would go with his David. He'd ask for some extra time at lunch, change in the locker room and go for a run. It had been a while. Maybe he could clear his head, find the backbone to leave and make this all better for everyone.
Don had to admit that lunch was not a tension convention, nope; it was more like a mime convention. Everyone ate, nobody talked. Colby asked for a little extra time at lunch to work out and like a coward, he said sure. It didn't seem to make anything better, David begged off before he'd taken more than a few bites of his lunch.
Don really needed to talk to Granger. He really wanted his agent back, but as things were now with David, he might have a battle on his hands that no one would win. If lunch was any indication, Colby was giving up. The real question was, should he?
David was already at his desk, with the phone tucked under his chin. While still talking, he waved Don over and ripped off a phone message and handed it to Don. It read: Call Dr. Sanjay, UCLA Med Center, URGENT. 555-9394.
David was wrapping up his call, so Don waited. When he saw David put the receiver in the cradle, he asked, "I don't know a Dr. Sanjay, did he say what he wanted?"
Megan's head appeared over one of the cubicles walls. "Did you say Dr. Sanjay?"
Don nodded affirmatively, "Yeah, do you know this guy?"
Megan looked surprised, "If it's who I think it is, we all know him. Remember, Sanjay was the cardiologist that treated Colby at UCLA?"
Suddenly, Don's world was reduced to the six capital letters inscribed in David's firm, concise handwriting – URGENT.
David was already grabbing the phone, cradle and all, to put in front of his boss. Don muttered under his breath, "I have a bad feeling about this." He dialed the numbers and did not hesitate to mention his FBI affiliation to speed getting the doctor to the phone.
The senior agent felt rather than saw the team moving in and around him. It was Liz's hand that put the pad of paper in his as he scrambled awkwardly to find something write on.
One sided conversations can be very unrewarding for your average eavesdropper. These were professionals. The few terse tidbits that Don uttered had everyone shifting gears.
"Tubocurarine,"
"How much exertion?"
"He went running about 45 minutes ago…no, he didn't eat."
"He should be back any time…We'll Have him at the Med Center as soon as we find him."
Don hung up the phone with a few choice curse words.
David immediately inserted, "He always runs with his phone like I do, in case you need us."
"Megan…"
She already was dialing, "I'm on it."
"Liz, if Colby's phone is on, I need you to get to his carrier. I want coordinates on the phone's GPS chip, ASAP."
"Damn,' they heard Meghan's curse. "Don, I think he picked up. He recognized my voice. There was a gasp and maybe he said 'Meg' but then I heard some shouts and it sounded like the phone was dropped. I redialed, but now it's going straight to voicemail." She sounded calm, but her white-knuckle grip on the phone said otherwise. "Don, what did the doctor say?"
"The doc was at a conference in San Diego. He met some Army doctors stationed in Guam. He'd never seen a poisoning like Colby's, so he mentioned the drug cocktail. They knew what he was talking about – Asian drug gangs seem to like Tubocurarine. They asked him about after care. When he admitted to not knowing what they were talking about, they told him that it was their experience that some patients represent with the symptoms. Tubocurarine is fat soluble. Running for any length of time without fuel would, cause his body to access fat reserves - releasing the toxin."
David's face looked stricken, "He's running on an empty stomach."
Don finished the thought. "Depending on the level of exertion, it will rerelease in his system, bringing on the same symptoms."
David was already stripping off his jacket. "I've run with Colby. He never takes the same exact route, but he always finishes off his run near one of those juice bars. He should be close to the end of his run by now. If I backtrack, we might find him or at least be nearby when you get the GPS coordinates. Megan, please keep calling."
There was an edge of desperation in David's voice. Megan also did not miss the fact that for the first time in weeks, David used Granger's first name. There was hope, if only they could get to Colby in time. She hit the redial again only to hear Colby's message strong and clear, asking her to leave a message at the beep.
Don was already running after David, "He needs backup."
Liz finally had someone on the phone, but interrupted, "Go, Go, Go!" I'll call you as soon…"
"Get an ambulance here on standby," Don shouted over his shoulder – and he was gone.
I know it's been weeks since I had a good run, Colby thought, but jeez. He had run through part of the UCLA campus and was about 45 minutes into his run when he started to have a hard time catching his breath. He made another block before he had to stop. A few deep breaths didn't seem to help. Actually, it didn't seem he could pull in air as deeply as he normally should. Colby felt a tingle of panic in the back of his mind, but squashed it. He was just a bit off his game. Not easy to take a run in a six by six cell. He was just a few blocks short of Wilshire. Maybe he'd walk for a ways until he caught his wind again. David would laugh at him – that is, if he were still talking to him.
He couldn't catch his breath. Colby felt his limbs getting heavier. Something was wrong. There was a crossing ahead of him. He was having a hard time focusing, but as he made it to the cross walk, Colby found that it was only an alley. He leaned up against the wall of one of the buildings and locked his knees, reaching for the cell phone clipped to the waistband of blue running shorts. He was sweating, swiping abstractly at his forehead and eyes, trying to make out the buttons on the face of his phone. He was just about to hit the speed dial for Don, when three young guys entered his field of vision.
"Yo man. You ain't looking so well." This kid, early 20s and a little over 6 feet, was dressed in baggy black pants with so many mental zippers, loops and other attachments that it sounded like every one of his half dozen pockets were full of change. His white tank top was stretched over muscles that looked like he could afford a very expensive gym membership. Colby had him pegged as a suburban wannabe gangster looking for trouble because deep-pockets-dad wouldn't cough up the money to buy him the car, ski vacation or fill-in-the-blank thing the kid was sure would make him happy. His friends didn't look quite so harmless.
One white, the other Latino, they had the look of lean wolves after a bad winter. Their clothes were more TJ Maxx knock off rather than designer kitsch.
"You right, Jake... Pobre hombre. He looks like fifty miles of bad road," the Latino said in sing-song fake sympathy.
On a good day, Granger would have laughed off these three, flashed his badge and headed on his way. Instead he found himself hiding the phone behind his back.
"I'm…fine. FBI, "Colby gasped out as he lifted his T-shirt to show them the ID on his lanyard.
The gangster wannabe was unimpressed. "You get that from eBay or a cracker jack box, dude? 5-O ain't wanting no drunk with the staggers." He winked at his pals behind him who seemed to be a bit more cautious about confronting a possible federal agent. "Let's give him a hand guys – help him into my office. I think I'd like that ID to flash for the ladies." He nodded toward the alley behind them. Wannabe and the Latino wolf boy converged on either side of the agent while the other kid stepped back to act as lookout.
It was mid-day in L.A. and Granger could not believe his luck. There were few people on this side street and all were trying studiously not to get involved. Colby tried to straighten up. Dragging in each breath was pure agony. He started as he heard his cell ring and lifted it up to his ear in time hear Megan's frantic "Colby?"
He gasped out her name but within moments, the phone was knocked out of his hand to shatter against the sidewalk. Colby managed to throw an elbow and knock the smaller attacker away. He took a couple of steps but felt a stronger grip grab his shoulder and swing him around – right into the fist of one very ticked off gang banger with a broken nose. What little wind he could drag in was driven out of his chest. As Colby doubled over, strong arms grabbed him under the arms and dragged him into the relative seclusion of the alley.
Megan coordinated the ambulance and kept in touch with Don. They had already covered four blocks and it was going slower because of the concern that Colby was incapacitated and unable to signal his location. As of yet, he had not made another call on his phone.
The break came when Liz gained access to Colby's GPS. She put the image on the big LCD screen and called Don.
Megan got a hold of Don, "We have the location. We've got his position on Weyburn just east of Westwood Boulevard. The signal is stationary."
"We're on Weyburn 'bout two blocks away. There's minimal activity on the street. Don't see any one." She could hear Don yelling directions to David, whom she assumed was somewhat ahead.
"Don, there's a blind alley just after the first building - once your cross Westwood."
She could hear Don's heavy breathing as ran he ran down the street. Suddenly, he broke back in. "David's at the mouth of the alley. He's pulled his gun. Get backup out here. Now." His last word was a shout and then cut out.
The last time Colby felt this bad, he was tied down and couldn't defend himself. This time was going to be different. He didn't like his chances much. Thank god Charlie wasn't here – he'd run the odds and they would not be favorable.
They wanted his ID and the money he had tucked in the lanyard. If he was going to get the shit kicked out of him for $20 bucks, Colby was going to do some damage. Or at least try. They wanted his badge - the ID that said he was Agent Colby Granger, FBI, Los Angeles, Investigative Unit. It was his identity, his real 100 true identity and after what he had been through in the last two years, he'd be damned if some pucks were going to take it from him.
Easier said than done.
He was dizzy, and his arms and legs felt like lead. His blows were connecting well enough that, with his back against the wall, he was able to keep them at bay. Two things turned the tables against the agent. Wannabe pulled out a knife and the other white kid joined the fight. The knife made Colby's position untenable, as he retreated until he could go no further with his back pressed firmly against the wall. He only had one choice. The agent lunged for the arm holding the knife. By some kind of miracle, Colby caught his attackers knife arm and held.
This small victory signified the agent's downfall. With his back exposed, one of the two kids hit Colby across his back at the base of his neck, causing him to release his grip on his attacker's arm, sinking to his knees. A kick to his kidneys sent Colby to the ground, doubling his body over in a primal effort to protect himself. Wannabe kicked him in the chest and Colby distinctly heard something break. His assailant reached down to grab the lanyard around Granger's neck. Defiantly, Colby grabbed the hand, preventing Wannabe from yanking it off his neck. But his attacker's other hand held the knife and was swinging savagely down, when it froze in mid flight.
"Freeze, FBI. Put down the weapon."
David's voice rang out loud and clear, with a tone of snarling authority that brooked no doubt to his intentions.
He could see a man on his knees. The tallest assailant had his hands on something around the fallen man's neck and was literally pulling him up by the strap. Startled at hearing David's warning. They all backed up behind the victim. The one man snaked his arm around the victim's throat and hauled him in front of him as a shield. In his opposite hand, he held a knife out in front of him, his arm and the knife visibly shaking.
"Back off. Back off or I'll gut him. I swear…I'll do it."
For the first time, Sinclair could confirm the hostage was Granger. David heard footsteps pounding and pulled up next to him. He didn't need to look to know that it was the boss. With Don's arrival, the attackers became more agitated. Colby looked bad. There was blood on his t-shirt from what looked like a swipe from the knife and a couple of bruises on his face. David, however, was most worried about the physical effort Colby was making to breathe. The choke hold he was in could not be helping.
Don adopted the same stance as David, feet braced and with both hands cradling his Glock. Slowly, he eased his stance. "You guys don't want to do anything that you'll regret. The man you have there is a federal agent. This could get a lot worse. You need to let him go, put down your weapon and step back. The sooner you do this, the easier it will be for you"
"No. That's not how it's going down. I want a car for me and my friends, once we get away, we'll let this guy go."
David replied, his anger barely suppress. "Were you dropped on your head as a baby? You. Have. A. Federal. Agent. There is no rock big enough for you can crawl under."
Wannabe was starting to sweat in earnest. He wheedled in a high pitched tone, "He showed us an ID, but we thought it was a fake and all 'cause he was so messed up."
"He's not messed up. He's sick," Don added in a more conciliatory tone. "The bad news for you is that if he doesn't get medical attention soon, he could die. Then it won't matter for you. A Fed dying in the commission of a felony – you three will never see the light of day."
The din of sirens was getting closer.
The Latino kid interrupted. "Jake, we were just looking to pick up a little money, not get no federal rap."
Colby looked like he was on his last leg. His shirt clung to the sweat that was pouring off him. Finally he gasped, "Shit…David. Just…just shoot…him."
The kid with the knife yelled, "No, no. Just get us the car, man, just the car."
Don put on his most reasonable tone, "You guys don't look stupid. You watch the news. How do these things normally end? Ever hear that the hostage takers get to fly off to Cabo?" David was not surprised to see the two behind their leader shaking their heads. More agents were pouring into the mouth of the alley, guns drawn.
The white kid behind Jake entreated, "Jake, your dad's a lawyer. At least you got a chance, Let the fed go."
"Alright, alright." The kid dropped the knife and released his hold on Colby at the same time. Unprepared, the agent crumpled to the ground with a groan of pain. Agents swarmed over the offenders and took them into custody, Don and David knelt next to Colby just as he was trying to get up. The senior agent pressed him back to the ground.
"Ambulance is on the way, Colby. We're only minutes from UCLA. You're gonna be okay."
On the freighter, Colby had been unconscious when he stopped breathing. Somehow, watching him struggle for every breath, the muscles in his neck corded with the strain, the look of fear combined with grim resolve in his eyes, was more alarming to his teammates.
Though no sound came from his mouth, both agents could make out the words Colby was trying to say, Why? How?
Don explained, "The Tubocurarine stays in your system longer than anyone knew. Exercise brings it out of hiding."
Colby closed his eyes for a moment, and dragged in a breath, "Hurts worse. Every…Breath." Don had originally though Colby had split his lip, but the blood on his lips was bright red and seemed to bubble out with every breath.
David started to explain again and Colby shook vehemently – no. He took David's hand and put it on his chest. When David looked confused, Colby pressed harder and David's hand sunk down where typically a rib should have rigidly prevented any pressure. Colby closed his eyes, his body going rigid with the pain. Understanding dawned on the two agents simultaneously. David pulled his hand out of Granger's grasp and pulled up Colby's shirt to reveal a darkening bruise forming in the shape of a shoe print on the fallen agent's ribcage.
Don breathed out softly, "Son of a bitch. I think Colby's got a punctured lung." Pulling out a walkie, he barked, "Where the hell is my ambulance?"
To their credit, the paramedics were there within seconds of Don's terse command. David and Don found themselves pushed out of the way as the medics worked on Colby. They got him bagged and on oxygen and loaded him onto the ambulance.
David started to climb into the ambulance. One of the paramedics said, "Sorry man, no room."
David's jaw clenched and softly, in a deadly earnest voice, he said, "Make room." He climbed in behind them and sat next to the gurney and nodded curtly at Don as the driver closed the doors.
Don smiled to himself. Colby was not out of the woods yet - but if everything worked out – he'd have his team back. He pulled out his phone to call Megan and Liz to meet him at the hospital.
For the second time in as many weeks, they were all sitting in a hospital waiting room. Charlie, Amita and Larry had joined them. David and Don filled everyone in on the events of the afternoon. Once that was completed, everyone settled down to worry quietly amongst themselves. An hour into the surgery, a nurse came out to tell them that their friend was holding his own. Megan squeezed Larry's hand and Amita snuggled into Charlie's shoulder with a sleepy smile. Two hours and many, many cups of coffee later, Dr. Sanjay arrived in the waiting room. Everyone released a breath that it seemed they'd been holding for three hours when Dr. Sanjay smiled and stepped into the room.
"Your friend is one tough young man, especially given what he's gone though in the last few weeks." Don had stood up and the doctor, sensing authority addressed his remarks directly to the senior agent. "His right lung was punctured and we've got it sown up and inflating nicely. The tubocurarine is compromising his ability to breathe and it's critical to keep the damaged lung properly inflated so it doesn't collapse again. We're going to put him on a ventilator for the next couple of days. He woke up in recovery and was fighting it so we are going to put him in a twilight sedation until we're sure the drug is out of his system. Agent Granger will be in ICU until he's off the ventilator, so only one visitor at a time. We should have him out of recovery within the hour. The main dangers to his recovery right now are infection and clots. He's on broad spectrum antibiotics and blood thinners to combat both. Unfortunately, the thinners are going to make his bruises look… well you'll see." Doctor Sanjay smiled broadly. "There is one good thing that has come out of all this." Don looked questionably at the doctor. "ICU has never been so well staffed. It seems your friend made quite an impression on many of the nurses during his last visit. We've never had so many extra shifts picked up. It didn't hurt that there was a rumor going around that he's the man that captured the Chinese double agent in the Attorney General's office. Agent Granger's exploits have taken on a James Bond sort of turn in the hospital rumor mill."
Charlie grinned, "Colby won't mind that at all. You know, I'll have to take rumor and reputation into account for my friendship metric paper. Of course, I will have to apply a heuristic analysis."
Don slapped his head in mock dismay, "Charlie, again with the heuristics?" No one laughed harder than Larry and Charlie, leaving everyone else to wonder at what the joke was.
Megan found herself once again standing with David outside the ICU glass wall looking in at Colby. Instead of the plexi oxygen mask, a tube was taped in place, the hiss of the artificial ventilator driving oxygen into his lungs.
"He's still on an IV but the doctor said that they've stopped the sedatives. He should be wake any time now." Megan looked at David. This time it was different. David wasn't radiating anger; it was something else all together.
"You know we used to run at lunch together?" Megan did not need to reply. David did not need her answer. "If I'd been with him…" David waved his hand at the tableau on the opposite side of the glass.
"Stop beating yourself up David. You were there both times when it counted. You both have enough guilt to choke on – get over it." David smiled at the practicality of her jibe. Squeezing his arm in reassurance she added, "He shouldn't wake up alone."
David's response was simple. "He won't."
David had been napping when he heard the slight movement of the sheets. The doctor had warned them that waking up on a respirator could be disorienting even frightening as the patients breathing and swallowing auto-reflex wants to immediately reject the respirator tube. Given Colby's recent experiences, the breathing tube might bring on an anxiety attack that might cause him to pull at the tube and injure himself. Dr. Sanjay advised David on how to explain and calm his partner and contact the nursing station so that they could remove the tube.
True to the doctor's words, Colby's first stirrings quickly turned to panic, his hand flying up to identify the foreign object. Another hand grasped his and squeezed reassuringly. Colby's eyes focused on the face bent close to his and widened in surprise.
David ignored his partner's surprise and went on to explain in calming tones, "You're on a ventilator, Colby. You need to relax. You suffered a punctured lung and with the tubocurarine still in your system, they needed to make sure that it didn't collapse." Colby's grip finally relaxed on his visitor's hand, giving David an opportunity to contact the nursing station. Within ten minutes they had the tube out and replaced with a nasal cannula, some pain meds for the ache in his chest and ice chips to sooth his raw throat.
Colby was quiet as David gave him a rundown on the doctor's phone call, how they found him and the extent of his injuries.
Colby finally interrupted in a horse whisper. "Owe you again. Thanks man."
David frowned and Colby misinterpreted the gesture. "Know you're still pissed at me. I get that. I'd give anything for it to have gone down some other way. There were a lot of lies, but in two things I've always been true - being your partner and being your friend."
"I know that."
"I'm just saying, I'll take another posting…wait…what did you say?"
"You've always been my partner and my best friend." Colby smiled but then looked confused. "Yeah, yeah, I've been, uh…unreasonable."
Colby blinked and David explained, "I've been mad at everyone, except the person that deserved it most. You've been my closest friend for almost two years. I should have been the one to stick up for you, to tell everyone something wasn't right. Don replayed your confession over and over – he knew something was off. I should have been the one. Hell it was Charlie, clinging to his trust metric, telling us we didn't need math to tell us what we knew in our hearts. Every step of the way, even after you called Charlie to talk to Don, I very vocally denounced your innocence. If Don hadn't stubbornly doubted all the facts and kept us on course, you'd be dead. If I'd spoke up for you, we might have caught up with you before you got to the boat. Before…"
David looked Colby directly in the eye, "I saw the tape, Colby,"
Colby looked away and for the first time David did get angry.
"You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of Granger," David stated with certitude, the emotion raw in his voice. "That was the most singular act of bravery I've ever witnessed. I'd be honored for you to call me your friend. You can't know… how much I regret letting you down."
Colby grabbed his partner's arm, getting him to look him straight in the eye. Here it comes, thought David.
"So what you're telling me…what you've been trying to say is…I am one hell of an actor?" Colby favored his partner with a pie-eating grin. Sinclair glowered back with confused annoyance as Colby continued, "Really man, I had you fooled the whole time?"
Suddenly David grinned at his partner's obvious ploy. "Yeah, Colby the whole damn time. And you have all these nurses fooled. They think you're some sort of hero."
"Maybe being stuck here for a couple of days won't be so bad. You might even meet someone when you visit next time - if you stop frowning at everyone. Charlie and I were talking about the fractal patterns of wrinkles. Probably why all the ladies think you're older than me."
"They think what? Your five years older than I am," David asserted with indignation. "And for your information, they're called character lines. I'm out of here before I forget why I wanted you to stay in L.A."
Pausing at the door, David lobbed one last shot at his partner. "Dr. Sanjay mentioned that a lot of the nurses volunteered for shifts when they heard you were coming back to the ICU. Matter of fact he said a couple of male nurses signed up for shifts too. You better turn down all that boyish sex appeal so some of us average mortals can get some action."
It's great to finally be back, Colby thought, and then he pulled the hospital bed sheets up to his chin.
The end.
I guess by Friday this will be AU. The Numb3rs board has a lot of great writers. Aren't we lucky? Please remember to feed the writers. Reviews only encourage more great writing!