Disclaimer:  The show and the characters belong to CBS and Viacom. They are merely being borrowed for this piece of fan fiction.

Author's Note:   I actually have two wonderful ladies who have now taken me on to raise.  Their insight, humor and constant encouragement give me the courage to continue to write.  This story is based on one of Betty's challenges.  I thank her for the idea and her suggestions.  She was a tremendous help and always positive.  One other note, my stories are standalone, they are not a series, so things that happened in the others are not necessarily taken into consideration in this story.

It Only Hurts When I Laugh

Chapter 1 – Lunchtime Terror

"Jesse, I can't believe this couldn't be taken care of after hours one night rather than the middle of the day," Steve complained.

"It could have been taken care of at night, for three times the money," Jesse explained with more than a trace of exasperation in his voice.

"So it's better to lose a day's business?" Steve asked.

"When you add up the numbers, yes it is," Jesse responded.

"It isn't all about numbers, Jesse, us not being open may make people mad and they won't come back," Steve replied.

"Steve, I hardly think us closing for a day to replace our stoves is going to be our downfall," Jesse responded in an irritated voice.

Mark and Amanda had watched the exchange and shared a smile.  Mark couldn't help but think that they were more like children bickering over a favorite toy than two adult business owners.  They had all gathered at BBQ Bob's for some lunch before heading back to work.  The workers who would be replacing the stoves were due to arrive at 1PM, and they had decided to take advantage of the fact that the restaurant was closed and they wouldn't have to fight the normal lunchtime crowd.  His thoughts were interrupted by the outside door slamming open and three men rushing in.  He immediately took note of the fact that they had guns in their hands, he then shifted his gaze to his son and saw him moving his hand towards the ever- present gun on his right hip.  The next few moments were a blur as the armed men noticed Steve's action and the badge on his belt and centered their attention on him.

'Hold it right there Cop," ordered the tallest of the three.

Steve's hand continued to move until he saw one of the other men aim his gun towards Amanda.  Steve stopped moving, then slowly turned his palms outwards and raised his arms above his head.

"You," the man shouted pointing at Jesse.  "Get his gun and bring it to me."

Jesse glanced at Steve who nodded that it was ok for Jesse to proceed.  Jesse walked slowly towards Steve and hesitantly removed it from the holster.

"Bring it to me," the man instructed.  "And then I want you to cuff his hands behind his back."

Jesse tentatively moved towards the man and handed him the gun, butt, first he then made his way back towards Steve.  "I'm sorry, Steve," Jesse said sadly.

"Not your fault, Jess, don't worry about it.  Please, just do whatever they say.  I can't take a chance on any of you getting hurt." Steve answered.

Mark had been holding his breath in those first few moments.  He had been terrified that the men would open fire on Steve.  He watched as Jesse gently pulled Steve's arms behind his back and then cuffed him.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  Maybe they could get out of this in one piece.  His relief was short lived.

"Ok, you three over here to this table," the tall man instructed.  "Jay, you keep your gun on them.  Stan, you keep your gun on our cop friend.

Ok, so we have a Jay and a Stan.  What's you name? Steve thought to himself.  His thoughts were interrupted as the man moved towards him.  From the look in his eyes he knew what was coming.  His only regret was that his father, Jesse and Amanda would have to witness it.  He tried to brace himself but it didn't help.  The first punch was accompanied by a gasp from the table the others had been moved to.  Steve heard his father call his name as he fought to stay on his feet.  The next punch caught him on the left side of the face and he tasted blood.

"Mike, stop," Stan requested.  "We may need him."

Hi, Mike, Steve thought.

"Alright, put him over there with the others for now," Mike directed.

Steve, though still wobbly, shrugged off the hand Stan placed on his elbow and made his way towards the table where his father and friends sat.  As he sat down, he felt his father's hand on his arm.

"Steve, are you alright?" Mark inquired gently.

"Yeah, Dad, I'm fine.  Listen, I need you guys to promise me you'll do whatever they say," Steve pleaded.

"Steve, I don't know that I can make that promise.  I'm worried about you and I want to help you any way I can." Mark responded.

"Ditto," Jesse replied as Amanda nodded her head in agreement.

Steve smiled faintly.  Though he wished they were somewhere else he was grateful for their support.  "Ok, then promise me you won't do anything stupid," Steve compromised with a smile.  Their responses were halted by a noise from outside.

~~****~~

Cheryl came to a halt in front of BBQ Bob's.  Jeez Sloan, can't you even have work done on your restaurant without getting into trouble?  She thought to herself.  "Have you contacted them yet?" Cheryl asked Tom Smithers the officer in charge.

"No, we were waiting on you," Smithers replied.

"Ok, I'll try and call Steve's cell first," Cheryl answered.  She pulled her phone out and made the call.

~~****~~

The sound of screeching tires had gotten the attention of all those in the restaurant.  The eyes of the captors off them for the moment, Steve briefly considered making a move, but the restricted use of his arms and the possibility of injury to his father, Jesse or Amanda ruled the action out.  In the next moment, all eyes focused on him as his cell phone began to ring.

"Answer it," Mike instructed Jesse. 

Jesse removed the phone from Steve's belt and answered.  "Hello?"

"Jesse?" Cheryl asked.

"Yes," Jesse replied.

"Where's Steve?" Cheryl inquired.  "Is he alright?  Who else is in there?"

"For now, they had me cuff his hands so he's a little indisposed," Jesse responded.  "Mark and Amanda are here also.  So what's up with these guys?"

"They tried to rob the bank down the block, one of the teller's pulled the silent alarm.  There were a couple of units that had just pulled in to the burger place across the street when the call came in.  The robbers came out, opened fire and shot one of the officers then fled down the street and ended up here," Cheryl responded.

Jesse didn't get the chance to ask any questions because the phone was yanked from his hand by Mike.

"We want out of here," Mike demanded.

"Who is this?" Cheryl asked.

"This is the man who is calling the shots unless you want four dead hostages," Mike responded with a laugh.

"I'd like to talk with Lieutenant Sloan," Cheryl requested.

"He's a little busy trying out his handcuffs, you can talk to me," Mike answered.  "Better yet, I'll do the talking.  We want a police car, a clear path to the airport and a jet waiting for us.  We will give the destination once we get on board the plane."

"I'm afraid I can't do that…," Cheryl began to respond but was interrupted before she could complete the sentence.

"You can't do it?" Mike screamed.  "Let me tell you how this is going to work.  You will do what I ask.  Each time you don't I'm going to have a little dance with Lieutenant Sloan here.  He looks pretty sturdy but I'm thinking he won't last for too long.  I have to go now and relieve my disappointment in your answer.  I suggest you call me back soon with a different response or Lieutenant Sloan and I will have some more quality time together."

~~****~~

Cheryl stood dumbfounded at what had just happened.  She wasn't going to refuse what they wanted, she was just trying to buy some time until the hostage negotiators arrived on the scene and now she had made things worse for Steve.

~~****~~

Mark stared in horror at the look on Mike's face.  He knew what was coming, and he turned towards Steve and saw in his expression that he as well knew what was about to happen.

"Just stay calm, guys.  I'll be fine," was Steve's response.

"Stan, you keep our friends here occupied.  Jay, help Lieutenant Sloan up," Mike instructed.

As he was pulled from his chair, Steve shared a look with the three occupants at the table.  His father made an attempt to rise and follow him but was shoved roughly back into his chair by Stan.  Though slightly restrained by Jay and with his hands cuffed behind his back Steve could not stand by while his father was manhandled.  He broke away from Jay and lowered his shoulder and drove it into Stan knocking him to the floor.  He stood staring down at the fallen man until he heard his father cry his name.  In the next instant, he was on his knees trying to recover from a vicious kidney punch delivered by Jay.  A hand was then twisted in his hair and he was yanked to his feet.  He struggled to rise and saw the concerned faces of his father and friends.  "I'm alright," he gasped.  "Just don't give them a reason to hurt you, ok?"  He was then propelled over towards the counter where Mike was waiting expectantly.

"Lesson number one, Lieutenant Sloan," Mike stated as he pounded a fist into Steve's abdomen.  He then proceeded to land punch after punch into Steve's body.  When his knees finally gave way and Steve dropped to the floor Mike used his feet to further punish the injured man.

Mark sat at the table his eyes squeezed shut and his head down as if that would deflect the sound of the fists pounding into the flesh of his son.  Amanda, head down as well, sobbed quietly.  Jesse found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the brutality that was taking place in front of him.  Though his eyes were bright with unshed tears he could not look away as his best friend was abused.

"Stop, please," was Mark's strangled cry.

Mike stopped his foot in mid swing and looked at the bruised and bloodied figure at his feet.  "I guess you're right, old man, I don't want to kill him yet."  He grabbed Steve under one of his arms and motioned for Jay to grab the other arm and then dragged him back to the table and dropped him on the floor.

Mark and Jesse immediately fell to their knees on either side of Steve.  Amanda took a position down by his lower body and rested a hand on his leg.  Mark was torn as to what to do.  Steve was lying on his back which was putting painful pressure on his cuffed hands but he was hesitant to move him to his stomach until he had a chance to examine his damaged abdomen.

"Steve?" Mark choked through his dry throat.

Pain dulled eyes flickered open and tried to focus on his father's face.  After a moment, he could see clearly and he offered Mark a slight smile.

Mark smiled back.  "I know it hurts, but can you stay on your back for a moment until we get you checked out?"

Steve nodded his positive response.

"Steve, this may hurt a little, ok?" a concerned Jesse added. 

In a voice that was little more than rasp Steve answered.  "Go ahead, Jess."

Amanda moved up closer and rested Steve's head in her lap.  She offered him a gentle compassionate smile and gently stroked his hair as Mark and Jesse began the examination.

Steve tried not to let the pain he was in show.  He didn't want to worry the others but he couldn't find a place that didn't seem to ache.  His ribs were on fire, he had a deep penetrating pain in his lower back and his face throbbed like an impacted tooth.

"I think we got lucky," Jesse said.

Steve laughed and instantly regretted it.  The laugh turned into a cough, which served to awaken all the pains at the same time.  His breathing became rapid and shallow, which only increased the agony to his ribs.

"Steve, slow breaths," Mark gently coaxed.

Steve nodded as he tried to bring his body under control.  After a few painful and stressful moments it lessened and his breathing became more normal.  He offered his father a reassuring smile.  "I'm sorry, I was just trying to figure out how we got lucky."

"We got lucky because I don't think you have any broken ribs.  You're pretty bruised but that's it," Jesse responded.

Steve smiled again.  "Well, I'm glad that's all it is."

"Steve, do you think you can roll over so that we can take a look at your back?" Mark asked.

"Sure, Dad."  As Steve attempted to roll over, he felt gentle hands support his body and help him lay on his stomach.  His hands had become numb from where he had been lying on them and pin pricks of pain accompanied the return of blood flow to them.

Mark rolled Steve's shirt up and had to suppress a gasp at the darkening bruises he saw there.  He glanced up and shared a look with Jesse.  Jesse nodded his silent agreement. 

"Steve…" Mark got no further as Steve's cell phone rang again.

"What?" Mike barked as he answered it.

Mark listened intently trying to decipher what was being said.  It didn't take long for him to realize that Mike was not happy. 

"That's not good enough, I want the plane," Mike shouted.  "I told you what would happen each time you disappointed me," he stated as he disconnected the phone and slammed it shut.  He looked at Stan and Jay before continuing.  "It looks like we might get a car but no plane.  That means we get to have more fun with Lieutenant Sloan."

"No!" three voices cried in unison.

"I won't let you touch my son again," Mark roared.

"How are you going to stop me?" Mike asked sarcastically.

The conversation was halted as Steve attempted to rise to his knees from his prone position on the floor.

Mark placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.  "Lie still, Steve."

"Dad, please, don't argue with them.  Just help me up," came Steve's muffled response.

Seeing that Steve was going to continue to try and rise, Mark relented and with Jesse's help they moved him to a sitting position.

Steve looked into the eyes of his tormentor and in that moment he knew that he would not make it out of this situation alive.  Some criminals inflicted pain when they felt they had no other choice, others got their kicks from the same thing, Mike was one of those men and Steve had met his kind before.  Realizing his own fate, his goal became securing the release of his father, Jesse and Amanda.

"Come on, Cop, it's time to party again.  Stan, Jay help our friend up," Mike ordered.

Steve was ripped from the comforting grasp of his father and friends and unceremoniously dragged across the floor.  He felt himself being held and tensed when he looked up to see the punch heading towards his face and heard his father's cry of distress.