V IC 

When the knock on the door comes, I'm not surprised. But I am surprised at who's standing on the other side. LiAnn stares up at me with a forbearing expression. "Hi. I hope I'm not disturbing you?" 

I sigh. "No. Not at all. Come on in." I open the door and stand aside, watching as she enters my apartment with a purposeful air. 

I close the door and try not to imagine that she's here because of the whole thing with Mac. Surely that would be pure paranoia, on my part. "Do you want something to drink? I was just making coffee." 

"No, thanks. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Mac." Her voice is reassuring but nevertheless I can feel my fists clench. 

I take a breath, willing myself to remain calm. "What about him?" 

She follows me into the kitchen, her scrutiny rattling me as I try to nonchalantly fix coffee, opening drawers and cabinets, the fridge, getting out the coffee filters. 

"He's hurting, Vic. Couldn't you see that, today?" 

I don't look at her, resolutely putting a fresh filter into the coffee machine. Spooning fresh heaps of ground coffee into the holder, I say as casually as I can, "Yeah, I did. Why? Why don't you go talk to him? Or are you expecting me to?" 

"I did. That's why I'm here." Her dry response chills me. 

Fucking Mac. I close my eyes briefly. Why'd he have to go and cry on her shoulder? And I can't help feeling that age-old, long-accustomed twinge of pain go through me at this, at the easy closeness they've always shared despite the ups and downs of their own intimate relations over the years. Somehow I never can get close to either of them in that way. Can't get between them. It's...it's like a sibling bond or something. 

Defensively, in a low voice, I retort, "I see. Been talking about me, much? Or is that too self-centered, do you think?" 

"Me? What do I think?" She crosses her arms over her chest. "I think you've treated him like shit, personally. Come on, Victor. You go and see him, use him and then when he starts to want it to be anything more than that you cut him off. He cares about you, or he never would have agreed to it in the first place. And you know damned well what I'm talking about," she says, her voice hard, her eyes boring into me. 

"Since when is any of this YOUR business?" I ask, a bit too defensively, hating to hear it in my own voice. 

She stares at me like I'm crazy. I probably am, to think I can last in an argument with her. "I care about you. I care about both of you, not just as- as partners, on our team - but as my friends. And I can't in good conscience stand back and watch you wound him like this without saying something. Vic, you're hurting him. You know you are. I just want to know what you think you're accomplishing by it!" 

I stare down at the coffee machine with unseeing eyes. With uncoordinated movements, I push the holder in place, turn it on and wait for it to start to drip. Quietly, I reply, "I know. That's why I ended it. It's hurt both of us too much for us to continue. It - it got out of hand." 

"Bullshit!" she exclaims, her eyes flashing. I glance up at her and see it, the sparks and the concern radiating from her. 

Fuck. She wasn't this animated when it was the two of US. But over Mac? Yeah. Right. They were always closer to each other than anyone else. 

She continues, "And you know it is, Vic. You're being such a chicken-shit." She gives a short laugh, humorless, colored with disbelief. "I can't believe you're prepared to hurt both of you this way. He loves you and that is so scary, so terrifying, that now you're running for cover. You can't use sex as a weapon, Vic. You should know that! Of all the people I know, I'm surprised that you would do this." 

"I can't believe you're taking his side against me in this, LiAnn." I hate my nearly pathetic tone, and I wish I hadn't spoken aloud. 

Furiously, she turns on me. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You owe him an apology." 

I close my eyes. She's right. But she doesn't understand. It was all a game. He doesn't love me; it was never about love. It wasn't. At least, not for him. But maybe... the hurt in his eyes, the wounded expression that hung around him all day long wasn't because I ended it. It was because of the way I ended it. LiAnn was right. I put my face in my hands. God, I've really fucked things up. 

Her voice softens and she steps closer to me, puts a hand on my arm. "Vic, I know you think you did the right thing, in the beginning, in reaching out to him. But you're going to have to face the fact that you need him and now he needs you. You've made him want you. You have to take responsibility for this. You can't just cut him off without a word of explanation. Which means you're going to have to understand what you are doing and WHY." 

I turn to her. "I don't KNOW why. I just - it -" I take a breath. "It just happened. I can't explain it. And once it started, I couldn't stop it. Okay, okay. You're right. I do owe him an apology, but it isn't that simple." 

She gives me a knowing look and folds her arms across her chest again. "Fine. Explain it to me. I've heard his side. Now give me yours. Just how DO you feel about it?" 

Damn it. I can't just... lay it all out there. Not to her. Not like this. I can't explain it to myself, let alone to anyone else. 

"You love him. You really do, don't you?" A note of wonder creeps into her voice. She steps closer and pulls me to face her, forcing me to look down at her and meet her eyes. "Vic, you're going to go over there, and you're going to talk to him. You're going to sort this out, tonight. Or I'll go to the Director and ask her to deal with both you. I won't have our team torn apart by this. It's completely unnecessary and stupid." 

I bite my lip. Shame sweeps over me as I realize that she's right. 

"Vic? Okay?" She shakes me, concernedly, demanding a response from me. 

"LiAnn, I don't - I can't-" I hesitate, feeling the shame, and now the pressure of intense guilt threatening my composure. Fuck. 

"You can do this," she says, intently. 

With anguish suffusing me now, I manage to choke out, "I didn't mean to hurt him. It wasn't supposed to end up like this." 

"It isn't the end," she explains, having some extraordinary logical grasp of the whole mess that I really can't comprehend. 

"Right. Like he's going to WANT to see me. You don't understand. If I go over there and-" I pause. "The instant I mention ... the moment I say how much I - I want it, want him-" 

She grips my arms again, harder this time. "He can't go any farther without some kind of commitment. You should know that about him. And you're the same, Victor. So stop pretending you don't know exactly you should do." 

"Right. You're right," I croak, nodding, trying to take strength from the fact that she is so concerned, so fervent about this. 

She sighs and steps closer to put her arms around me, embracing me. "God, I never thought I'd ever be saying this but, Vic, he needs you. Do the right thing. Okay?" 

I hold her, returning her hug, unable to help noticing the difference between her physique and Mac's... And a resurgence of tenderness mixed with desire at holding her... And the strangest feeling of acceptance, that somehow now that I have LiAnn's BLESSING to do this, I CAN go ahead and... 

Make things right with Mac, now. 

Jesus. For the first time, I feel hope leaking around the edges of the whole tense mess. I hold on to her, and murmur, "Thanks. Thank you." 

She pats me on the back. And then steps back to look me in the eye again. "Go get him. He wants you to." 

"Did he put you up to this?" 

"Are you kidding?" She laughs. "So far, you both have had to be dragged kicking and screaming before you'll admit how much you care about each other. I can't tell you how sick I am of the juvenile sniping and bitching all the time." 

I wince. I can't help it, can't suppress it either. She grins at me. Then goes stern again, and shakes a finger in my face. "Remember, I'll get the Director involved." 

I groan and raise my face to the ceiling. "Please. No. Anything but that." Just the thought of HER counseling me on my love life - the lover in question being Mac Ramsey - is entirely too frightening for words. 

She laughs and says, and "Then my work here is done." 

She stands in the kitchen, waiting for me. 

I give her a curious scowl. "What? What is it?" 

She looks at me askance. "Don't be dense. Get your jacket on. And get your keys. You need to go see him." 

I take a deep breath. "You - You're not going to leave until I do, are you?" 

She taps her foot. "Better believe it." 

"LiAnn, I'll talk to him tomorrow. I swear." 

She glares at me. "He's hurting NOW." 

"It's late, LiAnn. Very late. Let him sleep. He probably needs it. I'll talk to him. After work. Word of honor." 

With a sigh, she relents. "Okay. But right after work. No talking yourself out of it." 

"I swear." 

She nods. Then, finally, thank god at last, she says, "Good night, Vic. Thanks." 

I raise my brows at her. "Thanks?" I repeat. "Sure. Whatever. Good night." 

It isn't until she's gone and I've gone back to the kitchen that I realize I've committed myself to having The Talk with Mac. The dreaded Talk that I've been trying to avoid for - well, for as long as I've known him. Oh shit. A flutter of panic rises but I ruthlessly squelch it. LiAnn is right. I did treat Mac badly; I know I wounded him deeply. 

I'll make it up to him; I will.

MAC 

Once again, I have to force myself to get out of bed and go to work. I only hope that I won't have to spend another day cooped up with Vic in Nathan's domain. 

That just might break me. 

Surprisingly, Vic and LiAnn are not there when I arrive. The Director tells me that she's got them working on more research. 

This is a good thing. 

Then she tells me that she wants to talk to me. A personal matter. 

This is a BAD thing. 

I fidget in my chair while waiting for her to lower the boom. Damn. How can she just sit there so calmly, looking at me with that inscrutable expression? Doesn't the woman know that I'm at the end of my rope, ready to give up? 

Hell yes. Of COURSE she knows. 

Finally I can't stand the silence any longer. "Um, I think... I mean, what are the chances of my transferring to another team?" 

She raises one eyebrow at me and waits. 

Bitch. 

"It's just that... well, something happened, and I don't think I can work with Vic any more." 

"Mmmmm." 

Do I actually see compassion in her eyes? Nah. Trick of the light, that's all. 

"I know it's a lot to ask - but, I really don't think we can carry on effectively. He doesn't trust me - doesn't want to be near me. The dynamic is shot. Wouldn't be safe - I can't read him any more - and he doesn't want to read me." 

She sighs and shakes her head. "Mr. Ramsey, I know what happened. And, I think the two of you are completely misreading each other. Victor is protecting himself in the only way he can. We both know his track record with relationships." 

I nod - no arguing that one. 

"And," she continues, "you haven't exactly had resounding success in that department." 

Yeah, yeah - tell me something I DON'T know. 

"You are my team - and I will not break up a winning team over a lover's spat." 

Spat? Is that what she calls it? 

Obviously responding to my disgusted expression, she leans forward and directs a compelling gaze at me. "Mac, I think you need to give this some time - give Victor a chance to reconcile his feelings." 

"Oh, I think his feelings are VERY reconciled," I say bitterly. "He said it's over - told me to go away. He was extremely clear on the subject." 

Smiling slyly, she shakes her head. "What Vic says and what he wants are often at opposite ends of the spectrum." She sits back in her chair and stares at me for a moment. "How about this: you give it a week - if you still want a transfer in seven days, we'll talk again." 

Not having any choice in the matter - after all, the woman owns me - I reluctantly agree. "One week." 

Satisfied that she's gotten her way, the Director rises from her chair and heads out of the room. 

"Hey," I protest, "what do you want me to do today? You must have a job for me - you always do." 

She pauses, but doesn't turn to face me. "Actually, I don't. You have the day off, Mr. Ramsey."

VIC 

Summoned, I walk into the room. It's noticeably empty. "Hello?" My voice echoes. 

The Director emerges and goes to sit in her chair, laying a file down in front of her, unopened. "Ah, Victor. LiAnn can handle the rest of the research on her own. YOU have the rest of the day off." 

I stare at her. As always, I can't glean anything useful from her unfathomable expression, OR from her words. "Why?" 

"Because I say so." She gives me a funny look. Right. How dare I question one of her strange edicts? 

I remain standing there, in limbo. I'm not sure why but this has an ominous feeling about it. 

"Mr. Mansfield," she explains, tiredly, as if taxed and weary at having to lay it out for dumb old Victor, "there is something that you need to do, don't you think? Something you have been avoiding for a very long time? You should take advantage of your good fortune and use this free time constructively." 

I snap my fingers. "Of course. This is just the opportunity I've been waiting for. I've been meaning to take up a new hobby for... actually - quite a while now. Thanks." 

"Don't be obtuse, Victor," she snaps, coldly, putting me in my place. "Mac has gone home. It seems that he too has the day off. You might want to take this chance to get your affairs in order." She pauses for effect. "Well, the only one you have. Unless there is someone else you've been seeing in the past few years that I know nothing about... Unlikely as that is." 

With a growl of annoyance, I turn on my heel and leave. Where does she get off trying to play counselor - or matchmaker? If I'd wanted confirmation that she knew everything that had transpired so far between Mac and me, I just got it. Confirmation, which, of course, I REALLY didn't want. 

Still, the silent gratitude that settles inside of me as I drive home is joined with relief. When I get in the door I find myself picking up the phone.

MAC 

I don't remember driving home. Not a surprise, really. Considering my confusion, my lack of sleep, and - hell, let's admit it - my general state of misery, it's a wonder I managed to get there in one piece. I park, somewhat haphazardly in the lot and drag my sorry self upstairs. 

Once in my apartment, I find myself at a loss. What the hell will I do with this unexpected time off? Do I really want to be here? I see Vic in every corner - smell his essence in the air. But, damn, I don't have the energy to go out. No, I have to come to terms with this. This is my HOME dammit. Somehow, I'll exorcise HIM from this place. 

Wearily, I walk over to the couch and flop down. Not a good move, I realize as memories of Friday overwhelm me. With a groan, I relocate to a chair. Hell! Why did they have to inflict such a damned uncomfortable piece of furniture on my apartment? 

I sigh and move again. To the floor. Reclining, I lay one arm over my eyes and try to relax. Deep breathing usually helps, so I concentrate on that - and try to blank my mind. I just don't want to think about him now. 

Remembering all of the instruction from various yoga and tai chi instructors, I finally start to unwind - clear my mind. 

And the fucking phone rings, jolting me out of my pleasant haze. With a groan, I rise and pick up the receiver. 

"What?" I bark impatiently. 

"Mac?" 

Vic's voice, even over the phone, sends a wave of arousal, hurt and anger rolling over me. I sigh. He picks up the sound over the phone though and continues, hesitantly, "Mac, if it isn't too late, if I haven't completely fucked this up yet, I'd like- to talk, to see you. To, uh, sort things out. Do you want to come over?" 

I muse on this, mulling it over in my mind and turning over the options, the implications. "Come over? What, are you at home?" "Yeah. I got off early today. Look, Mac, I know I was a bastard. We need to talk - about us, about this. I know I hurt you and you didn't deserve what I did to you. But not over the phone - just... come over. Will you come over? Please." 

The hurried stumble of his words and the uncertainty in his voice, the pain in it makes me glad that he's suffering over this too, but also makes me relent. A little. Besides, his place right now is a better choice than mine. I don't really feel like having him in here again. Not after all that has happened. "Fine. I'll be over there in a bit." 

"Great." 

The silence is awkward though. I clear my throat. "Okay, see you soon. Bye." I hang up. And then sink back down to the floor. Damn him. So much for relaxation.