This is a companion piece to ficlit78's "Painting the Roses Red". You might want to read that first. Thanks to her for letting me try to voice Wayne's point of view. I think they are going seriously damage my favorite pair.

IF *I* owned the, none of this would be needed!

The Thorns

Immediate danger, he processed and reacted to without hesitation or thought. Over the years, he had trained his large, strong body to instinctively move. A gun pointed, a punch thrown, a suspect fleeing, these were handled without any deliberation. His brain and body moved instantaneously. Puzzles, like how a fire started, took slightly longer, but again, the training he had forced upon his long frame had stood him in good stead. This new danger had him paralyzed in fear.

Special Agent Hightower had finally taken over for Minelli. She had spoken to them all as a group. He had been a cop long enough in enough places to know the drill. She planned to be tough and fair, yeah, yeah. He had heard this speech before. When you got lucky, it was followed up by a boss who actually was all of those things. Lisbon was that kind of example of the exception. She was a boss who didn't forget that she was a cop too. Usually, the title and desk went straight to the head, and shoved it up asses. He wasn't sure about Hightower yet. It would take time. He thought he was fine with that, until she called them into her office together.

There it was, the summons they were hoping to avoid. They knew they had been good. They kept it all on the down low and under wraps. Not that it was easy, especially on days when Grace wore a skirt. But then any man with a pulse would find it hard not to be distracted by Grace Van Pelt's legs. And having knowledge of how they felt wrapped around him, he had to work harder to stay on task those days. But by and large, they had succeeded. Yeah everyone knew, but no one really said anything, except Cho. But even Cho had enough sense to keep his rare, dry witted comments to a minimum. It was all good, they thought.

Hightower's showed them how wrong they had been. They had been living in a fool's paradise and the plane leaving that airport was fueled up and ready to go.

They allowed themselves only the briefest of worried glances before they entered her office. They were pretty sure they knew what was coming. It wouldn't be pretty. They were right.

She didn't waste any words or sugar coat it at all.

"Spare me the denials. I am not stupid. I understand this has been going on for a little while. I also understand things have been a bit lax around here with all the upheaval. That changes now. You have gotten away with this for too long. Here it is, make your decision. I will give you until tomorrow morning. I will expect a decision and I will not look the other way. You may both go now."

They mumbled their understanding and left. Wayne wondered if his face looked as stricken as Grace's. She was a little pale and he knew she was fighting to keep it together. They couldn't talk now. But they would talk tonight. Each walked away.

Here it was, the danger, the puzzle and he had precious little time to figure it out. His instinct told him to grab Grace and pull her out of danger. Drag her off to Fool's Paradise and hide with her there. But his past experiences had told him in the grimmest of ways that all good things end. Moments of pure happiness were fleeting, because there would always be someone waiting to snatch it away.

His job or the woman he loved? Never had the choice been more dire or terrifying. The last time they faced this, he knew he bungled it. They got a second chance, and like a fool, he forgot to keep up his guard. He had hated sneaking around. He had faced death often enough to know it was important to hold onto what was important.

But he was also the guy who followed the rules. Even if you didn't like them, they were there for a reason, right? Rules were rules. His relationship with Grace had been as far outside the world of rules as had allowed himself. Growing up outside that world had made him long to live there. Rules made sense. They gave you a sense of order. You knew where you stood.

But oh, for the sake of Grace, what would he do? What had he done? He had stood up to Lisbon and admitted breaking those rules. He had allowed himself to fall in love with a coworker and then tell her.

He could have Grace or he could have his job. He couldn't have both. One of them would have to go. If he left, he knew he would land on his feet, but he was the senior agent. If he asked to go, it would be a mark against him. If she left, she would resent that he hadn't gone. It would tear them apart. Or the unthinkable could happen. They could stop seeing each other. Over, done with, finished. He would have to treat her like a sister. He would have to forget the feeling of her soft skin against his. They would have to be professional. They would have to move on. He might have to watch her date someone else. The very idea tore at him. Wayne was almost shocked at his body's reaction to such a thought. She was his. He had wooed and won her.

He could have her or his job. He could have his heart and soul, but not himself. Being a cop wasn't just a job. It was who he was. No matter what else he did, being a cop, no a special agent defined him. It was the man he had created out of the chaos of his past. Could he walk away from that? If he did, would he still be the same man, and would she still want him?

This puzzle had taken him from the rose garden right onto the pile of thorns. There was no easy answer for him here. Stay and be miserable, or go and be miserable, or she goes and is miserable. Fuck the rules, he wanted to scream and roar his frustration.

Fuck this puzzle.

Hope I did justice to her concept….