Fandom:	Houston Knights
Series:	Other Authors
Rating:	NC17
Pairing:	Joe/Levon
Archive:	Starwinder's
Title:	Lundy's Gone
Author:	Etch
Standard Disclaimer: Houston Knights belongs to Jay Bernstein and Michael Butler and Columbia Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fan fiction, written out of love for the shows. I am making no money off this. I have no money so please don't sue me. Any original characters who may appear in these stories are the property of the author.

Lundy's Gone
By Etch

Joey LaFiamma stared at the empty desk of Sergeant Levon Lundy. They'd been partners for three years. Intense, passionate lovers for one. Now Lundy was gone. Transferred. No word. No goodbye. Nothing. Even Lieutenant Beaumont was miffed. The order had come down that Lundy was transferred to MacGregor's unit ... a special undercover crime detail. Joey had been miserable for days. He'd lost his appetite. Was doing his job out of habit. His heart just wasn't in it. He pulled himself together, slowly rose, and tapped lightly on the lieutenant's office.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant?"

Lieutenant Joanne Beaumont gave her brunette head a shake and met the hollow, empty eyes of Sergeant Joseph LaFiamma. [Levon's only been gone ten days, and Joey already looks like a lost little puppy.]

"Yeah, Joey, come on in," she said brightly.

"Lieutenant, I've got some time comin' ... I'd like to take some of it," he said, sad resignation in his voice.

"This thing with Lundy has hit us all hard, Joey. We're all hurt. Upset that he didn't share his plans with us."

"Lieutenant, Levon and I ... well, we had somethin' special goin' between us. We've gotten to know how each other thinks. Know how far we can push the other before backing down. I can't work with another partner. I'm mad he didn't tell me he wanted a change. Wanted out of the partnership. I'm not sure, Joanne ... if I can survive without him."

His tone alarmed her. Joey had never called Lieutenant Beaumont by her first name. She realized now, that he was hurting far deeper than he let on. She motioned him into the chair in front of her desk.

He waved her off shaking his head no.

[My life is over without, Levon. I know I won't survive without the love we shared. Levon had become the family I left in Chicago. Hell, I might as well go home to Chicago. Be killed, die and be buried next to my parents.]

Deep in his own thoughts, Joe was startled by the hand Joanne Beaumont gently laid on his shoulder.

"Wha ...! Sorry Lieutenant." [Hell you're dead anyway, you might as well tell her.]

"Joey, listen to me. Take a few days off, go home. Rest. I'll see what I can find out about Levon."

"Go home! Where the hell is home?" he blasted, then pulled back, seeing her startled face.

"Lieutenant ... I love ... ."

"Joe," she cut in quietly, "I know the two of you shared a lot. That you were closer than just friends."

"How? We never ...," he said lamely, his voice trailing off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"I was Levon's partner. I know what he and Caroline had together. I know how her death tore him apart. I see that same emptiness in you, Joey. I see the pain you're suffering. The same pain Levon felt when he lost his wife. I can't believe Levon willingly took this transfer. There has to be more to it than we know."

"I'm his partner, for god's sake! We've shared ... !" He could no longer hold back the tears that were silently building in his eyes. He sank down into the leather chair, his head falling into his hands.

[][][][]

Joey watched his garage door open. His first thought was to leave the car out, then decided against it as it would take too much time to snap the rain cover on. [Time, hell, I have all the time in the world, where am I going?]

He walked into the family room, staring at the pool table. It was one of their favorite places for making love. He and Levon spent many hours around it -- talking about cases, about their futures. [What future? You're dead, Joey, and you know it. You can't survive without this man. This man you love more than life itself.]

Everywhere he walked reminded him of Lundy. The bedroom, bathroom, the kitchen. Lundy's favorite hot cereal still sat on the kitchen counter. Joe had refused to put it away. It was a link to his partner, his lover. Leaning against the wall, he refused to answer the ringing phone, letting the machine click on and take the message. He slowly slid down the wall, pulled his knees to his chest, laid his head on his folded arms.

[][][][]

A cramp in his calf awakened him. He looked around. It was dark outside. He didn't know, nor did he care, how long he'd been there. Using the wall for support, he slowly pushed himself to a standing position. He stared blankly at the red blinking light on his answering machine. He made no attempt to retrieve the messages.

Joey stepped into the kitchen. He didn't need to turn on the light. He knew the place by heart. He yanked open the refrigerator and stared into it. It was full of vegetables, pasta, sauces. An oriental sauce he'd made from a new recipe he'd found. It was something that he was going to spring on Levon. Now it was gathering mold. Silently he closed the door, turned and walked down the hall to the bedroom.

Joe stood in his bedroom, their bedroom, staring blankly at the big four poster bed. Mechanically, he stripped himself of clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. He collapsed onto the unmade bed.

Sleep did not come easy. Joe's mind was full of sorrow for a lost love, more than full of hate. He could feel the Texan's hot breath on his neck. The tongue licking his nipple, his earlobe. Hands stroking his cock making it hard. The play of his fingers down his leg to his foot. The wetness exploding onto his stomach made his inner pain even worse. It left him with a hollow, empty feeling. If he slept Lundy would be with him. When he woke Lundy would be gone.

[][][][]

The early morning sun streaking across the room slowly aroused the Northerner. Groaning, he blinked at the new day. Out of habit, he reached over to touch Lundy. The bed was empty. It was another day without his lover. Another day of pain. He laughed out loud, thinking about something his mother had said to his father once: [I am a one-man woman.]

"Well, Mom, I'm a one-man man! I don't want another guy. I don't want a woman. I just want Levon Elmer Lundy! God, I miss him." He threw his arms up toward the ceiling. "Moommm! I never thought I could hurt this much! How did you stand it ... when Dad died? How did you keep from goin' crazy?"

The growling in his stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten recently. Not since yesterday, or maybe the day before. He really couldn't remember. All he knew was, every time he opened a cabinet, the freezer or refrigerator ... he saw Lundy. Then he'd turn away, tears welling in his eyes, and slam the door behind him.

He'd made up his mind. Today he was going prowling. See if he could find out what MacGregor's unit was up to.

[][][][]

The Cobra squealed out of the cul-de-sac with a roar and headed for the Third Ward. He thought about going to Chicken's, but decided against it. It was Lundy's favorite place and he knew he would break down if he went there. What difference it made he didn't know, but deep inside, he didn't want to spoil his 'macho' image. Waiting for a traffic light to change, he numbly watched three people walk out of a run-down house on his left. He gasped when he realized one of them was Lundy. A woman had her arm around Lundy's waist, and he was laughing, smiling. A man walked a half-pace behind them. Lundy was joking over his shoulder to the man. Someone behind Joey started honking. The light had turned green, but Joe sat mesmerized at seeing his partner with this couple, obviously enjoying their company.

Alerted by the honking, Lundy turned to see what was happening. Seeing the look of devastation, betrayal on his partner's face caused him to take a sharp intake of air. The woman immediately came to his aid, asking what was the problem. When Lundy turned to face her, he heard the unmistakable squeal as the Cobra peeled rubber.

[][][][]

Joseph LaFiamma silently walked into Reisner. He purposely did not take the elevator. Taking the steps two, three at a time, he did not hesitate when he reached the second floor. He jerked open the stairwell door and proceeded down the hall toward the squad room. His mission to resign was foremost on his mind. He did not waiver on his beeline to the lieutenant's office, though he heard Annie and another voice sharply call his name. Without knocking, he burst into the office, interrupting a meeting between Esteban and the lieutenant. He saw Estaban's hand touch his wrist, but his mind blocked out the words. Joe violently threw down his badge and police-issue revolver.

"Joey, listen," Esteban said, trying to grab the Italian's attention.

LaFiamma turned for a hasty retreat but was blocked by a stubborn ex-Matamoras cop.

"LaFiamma, will you listen to me? Lundy's transfer is only temporary."

"Temporary!" Joe shouted. "The hell it is! I talked to two of MacGregor's men this morning. It's a permanent transfer. And Lundy agreed to it! Said he didn't have any commitments here! That leaving wouldn't be a problem!" The smoldering anger that flared in Joe's eyes caused Esteban to swallow. He stepped away from the door, catching it before it slammed.

Silently, morbidly, Joe drove home. He'd always wanted to be a cop. Ever since he was a kid. He'd watched his dad on the force in Chicago. Watched him take flack from his brothers, cousins who were on the other side of the law. Now Lundy was gone, too. Everyone he'd ever really loved was gone.

[][][][][]

Joey picked up the phone on the third ring.

"Joey," said the anxious voice of Uncle Mikey, "I've been trying to reach you for three days. Where you been?"

"Been busy, Uncle Mikey. What's up?" Joey said with little emotion.

"Joey? What's wrong?" Uncle Mikey asked, concerned with not hearing Joey's usual light banter about family and Lundy. "Come on, Joey. Somethin's wrong! What is it?"

Joey stared at his shoes. "Lundy's gone, Uncle Mikey. Transferred. Didn't even say goodby. I ...I quit the force. Resigned. I'm not a cop anymore," he said sorrowfully.

Michael Anthony LaFiamma knew how much his nephew liked being a cop. He, Michael LaFiamma, was head of a crime syndicate, yet he knew his nephew enjoyed being a cop more than anything else. He had wanted Joey to take over his operation. Joey opted to become a police officer. It was something that always rode between them. Yet they were family. They were close. Neither admitted what would happen if they had to make a choice.

"Joey! Dominic Vertulio had a stroke. Some freelancers feel you're fair game until he recovers, or gives power to someone else. Rico's upped the price on your head. Joey! Are you listening to me?" the urgent voice from Chicago called.

"Yeah, I hear ya', Uncle Mikey. It means I'm on my own, with no backup."

[][][][][]

Michael LaFiamma pushed his lunch away and stared at the phone on his desk. Talking to cops, Houston cops, was not his forte, but if Joey was really alone ... .

Lieutenant Beaumont gently laid her telephone receiver back onto its cradle. She stared out into the squad room. Esteban was standing at the file cabinet. Joe-Bill was on the phone. Carol was at the computer. She stared at Lundy's empty desk top, void of all personal belongings. Opposite was Joe's. There sat his Chicago Bears coffee cup. A Bonsai tree. A stack of file folders. An apple core turning brown. Why Lundy chose to leave without a word she didn't know. What she did know was Joey LaFiamma's life was in danger. More danger than ever before. Joanne Beaumont moved toward the door. She knew she had to get word to Levon, somehow, that the contract on Joe was open again. That the price on his head was doubled. That there was probably no way they could protect him.

The look of concern on their lieutenant's face caused the squad room to come to a working halt. She explained the call she had just received from Joey's Uncle Mikey.

"Lieutenant!" Esteban started.

Carol cut him off, "We've got to warn Joey. Let him know."

"Joey's been called. It was his attitude of not caring what happened to him that made his uncle call me," Joanne said quietly.

Whether anyone wanted to admit it or not, they knew that LaFiamma and Lundy had a close relationship. How close they didn't know. It didn't matter. They had been partners for three years. They'd been through a lot of hell together. Everyone in the room had shared or laid down their life for the other sometime during those years. Their concern for Joey was genuine.

"To hell with MacGregor's operation," Joe-Bill replied. "We've got to let Levon know what's happening."

[][][][][]

Joseph Anthony LaFiamma stood in front of a wall mirror in his bedroom. He shucked out of his shoulder holster, hanging the holster and guns in the closet. He felt naked without them. If he went down, at least the shooter would get it for killing an unarmed man. He was tired of looking over his shoulder. Tired of running away. Tired of fighting the fact that he was being hunted for doing his job. His job as a cop. Maybe he'd just go to the airport and get a ticket to Chicago, end the whole charade. With Lundy gone, life wasn't worth living anyway.

[][][][][]

On a stakeout outside Terminal II at Houston International Airport, Lundy was surprised to see the Cobra pull into a No Parking Zone. He watched Joe speak to an airport security officer, who patted him briefly on the shoulder before Joe disappeared into the terminal. Thirty minutes later Joe reappeared with what seemed to be a ticket clutched in his hand.

"Hey, Lundy. Look at that there guy," his stakeout partner said, pointing to a man in a pin-striped suit on the opposite curb from LaFiamma, waiting to cross traffic. He was carrying an automatic pistol casually in his right hand. The gun was aimed to the sidewalk, carried loosely like an umbrella.

Lundy grabbed for the car door.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, cowboy? We're on stakeout, remember?" the man chortled.

"That's my partner, man," Lundy said, fear tightening in his stomach.

The man next to him laughed. "Not anymore he ain't. You gave that up when you agreed to be here. Besides, LaFiamma carries dual guns."

"What the hell you mean? This is a temporary assignment," Lundy shot back.

"Maybe that's what they told you. But once you agree to work for MacGregor, you're in! Your past life is null and void. Your partner there, he'll be reassigned, or be on his own."

Now Lundy understood the look of despair, of betrayal he'd seen on Joe's face at the traffic light. He, Lundy, had left without a word. Nothing to anyone. Not to Joe. Not to Joanne. Just up and went. MacGregor had said it was a temporary situation, and he needed a person with Lundy's background. Levon had agreed, not realizing his relationship with Joe would be severed.

Lundy watched the man with the gun approaching Joe. He saw Joe turn sharply as the man called his name. It hit Lundy fast. LaFiamma was unarmed. He wasn't going to defend himself. He would go down in a hail of bullets, and no one would know about the deeper hurt inside. Levon knew he couldn't be responsible for the loss of another partner. He'd lost a wife and a partner to this damn job, he wasn't losing Joe, too. He was out the door and on a dead run before the other man could stop him. The one thing that probably saved Joseph Anthony LaFiamma from being killed instantly was Lundy yelling, "LAFIAMMA, you stupid Italian! Hit the ground!"

Joey heard Lundy yell. He turned to see the Texan running toward him. Saw Levon frantically gesturing toward the man with the gun. Joe heard the shots, then tasted blood. The pain in his head closed off all sound, all sight. He fell against the Cobra, blood smearing across the blue paint.

Two Marines, loading luggage into a waiting car, wrestled the gunman to the ground. They held him until airport security and HPD officers arrived. Lundy cradled Joey in his arms, holding him close. He gently pulled at the blood splattered ticket Joe clutched in his hand. Surprise crossed his face when he saw it was for Chicago.

"Levon, the paramedics are here," Carol said gently. Where she came from, Lundy didn't know. Didn't care. He wasn't giving up his charge. Not ever again. Joanne had put a tail on Joey. It was the only thing the lieutenant could do, in the hopes of keeping Joe LaFiamma alive. None of them were prepared for the fact that Joey wouldn't resist. Wouldn't put up a fight. That without Lundy, he would rather die.

[][][][][]

The argument between Lundy and MacGregor was loud and aggressive. Doctors forced them to move outside because their voices were disturbing patients and family in the Emergency Room. Lundy was livid. He'd been lied to from the start, and he didn't like it one bit. He realized what torture LaFiamma must have been going through these last several days. He knew how he would feel if the situation were reversed. He also knew Joe was more vulnerable, more emotional than himself. That the child in him would just give up.

"I don't care squat about your operation," Lundy yelled. "It's been a sham from the start. Wheels turnin' with no results. There's five other guys you could have called on for this. Why'd you pick me?" the Texan asked angrily.

MacGregor was silent for a moment. "I didn't pick you, Lundy. Internal Affairs did."

"Internal Affairs?" Levon stared at the man, perplexed.

"Yeah. Look, I know half the cops on the force that are long time partners probably have slept together ... ."

[Slept together? Half the men? Is he kidding me?]

"They think Joe and I are lovers? That breaking us up would put a stop to it. Is that how you get your men? IA rejects? I don't give a damn, MacGregor, about you or IA. All I know is the best partner I've ever had is in this hospital dying. If I have to give up my badge to stay with him, I'll do it. Tell that to your brass!" Levon turned and stormed through the automatic doors, back to the Trauma Center.

[][][][][]

It was an interesting group that gathered in the small Intensive Care waiting room. Joey's Uncle Mikey had flown down from Chicago when the first reports of a Houston officer being gunned down outside of the airport were broadcast. He knew without listening to the rest that that officer was Joey. Sergeant Levon Lundy, who had been leaning against the wall, now turned toward the window. The stern scrutiny from Michael LaFiamma was more than he could handle. Lieutenant Beaumont, MacGregor and an IA officer stood outside in the hall. The two men obviously didn't like what the brunette was saying. Annie, who had maneuvered her wheelchair into a corner, watched the two men in the waiting room, each, in their own way, loved one Joey LaFiamma very much.

Annie watched MacGregor and the IA man leave as an exhausted looking doctor approached Joanne. The doctor spoke in low tones with her, then both entered the waiting room.

"Mister LaFiamma, I'm Doctor Manley," he said, reaching out to shake Mike LaFiamma's hand. The doctor gave a nod to Lundy and Annie, but he spoke to the man in the black suit.

"I'm an up-front guy. I won't lie to you. Your nephew is in pretty bad shape. He has a bullet lodged in his neck. In his present condition, we feel it's too dangerous to operate. The head wound isn't that serious. A lot of blood. Would normally give a good headache for a few days."

"What do you mean you can't operate?" Lundy asked anxiously.

Doctor Manley saw more than pain in Levon's face and eyes. He saw that fear of losing a loved one. A look, in all his twenty years of being a doctor, he could never get used to seeing.

"His condition is ... well, poor. I would venture to guess he hasn't eaten in several days. And he's dehydrated. He's physically not, and probably emotionally not strong enough to survive the operation. We're pumping him full of fluids. Vitamins. We're just going to have to wait and see."

"If you don't operate, the fragments of the bullet could move and kill him," Lundy groused, turning back to the window. The pain he felt was indescribable. [Oh, god, Joey! What have I done to you?!]

Urgency was in his request as he turned back to the doctor, asking to see Joey. Demanding even.

Mike LaFiamma lashed out at him. "Don't you think you've done enough already, Sergeant? Being a cop was all Joey ever wanted to be. All it's ever gotten him was trouble. Him falling in love with you was the worst thing he ever did."

Lundy was taken aback by the public statement that Joe loved him. They both knew that someday it would come out. They wondered what they would do when it did.

"Mister LaFiamma," Lundy spoke cautiously, "my being a cop has cost me a wife and a partner. I'm not about to lose another one. Joe's family's in Chicago. He can't go back there. He gets lonely down here. He misses his uncles, aunts, his cousins. I don't have a family. Everyone is gone, dead. Joe and I lay down our lives for each other every day. We share things with each other we wouldn't dare tell another soul. If that's what being in love is ... then I guess we are."

Doctor Manley scanned both men. He spoke first to Michael LaFiamma then to Lundy, giving each permission to see Joey. Telling them quietly not to be alarmed by how he looked. The doctor escorted the man in black through a door marked 'Private'.

Lundy silently watched the door close. His eyes glued to its outline. When Mike LaFiamma emerged a few minutes later, Levon was unprepared for the ashen look, the sadness in the elder LaFiamma's eyes.

The man, shorter by several inches, stopped in front of the Texan. "You are responsible for this," he said in an emotion-controlled voice. "If Joey dies, you will personally escort him back to Chicago. Buy a one way ticket, Sergeant. You won't be returning to Houston."

Levon watched the elder LaFiamma walk into the hall. He heard Annie softly call his name. He turned to see Doctor Manley motioning him toward the door.

Lundy hated hospitals. He and Joe had had their share of being patients. He remembered when Mother Minnie died; his grandmother had been a very special lady. He wouldn't have made it through her long cancer illness and the aftermath of her death if it hadn't been for Joseph LaFiamma. He was afraid to step into the close quarters of the Intensive Care unit. Who would be there for him now? He had deserted Joe. Cut him off as though he never existed. He was as guilty as the shooter who pulled the trigger.

Stepping into the small cubicle, his heart stopped momentarily, his breath caught in his throat. His partner, his lover, lay gaunt and pale, lifeless, on the hospital bed. Wires, tubes, things attached to him. He swallowed hard, blinking back the tears he knew were there. Mother Minnie's words echoed in his head: [The commitment you and Joey are making, is it what you really want?] He'd professed his love for Joe to his dying grandmother. [Be prepared, Little Levon. Joe's commitment to you is total. You forsake him for any reason, he'll die without you.] 'Die without you' echoed through his brain as he bravely moved to the side of the bed.

"Joey," he choked. "I'm sorry, man. Forgive me. Please! MacGregor lied to me, Joe. I thought the transfer was temporary ... that I'd be back in a week."

The Texan leaned down, his hand gently touching the Italian's face. "Don't die on me, Joe. I love you. God, I love you so much."

The loud buzzer beeping noise startled Lundy. Before he could straighten up, hands were pulling him backwards. Voices demanding he leave the room. He was physically pushed from the cubicle. He stood staring into the glassed-in room, watching medical personnel hover over Joe. What had he done?

He watched Doctor Manley approach him, then asked, "What did I do?"

The doctor motioned Levon to an empty glassed room. They entered silently. "What did you say to him?"

"I asked him to forgive me. Said I was sorry."

"What did you say ... do ... when you bent down to his head?"

Lundy gaped at the man. [How would he know?]

Doctor Manley smiled. "Each room has a video camera that registers on a monitor at the nurse's station. This way we can see what's happening in each room at the same time without actually being in the room. When you bent down, you cut off part of the visual picture. The monitor automatically sounds an alarm to indicate a problem. However, Joe's pulse became rapid, also setting off the heart monitor. I repeat Sergeant Lundy, what did you do?"

Without hesitation, Levon said, "I asked him not to die on me. Told him that I loved him. Loved him a lot. I touched the side of his face with my hand."

The Texan looked at the doctor. "I don't think either of us has really admitted to the other how much we do care about each other. How much we really do love each other. Oh, we fight. We banter. Play on each other's differences. But we never said "I love you, Joe' or 'I love you, Levon' ... we just sort of knew how the other felt." He felt tears returning, this time he let them slide down his face.

"I may never get to tell him now," the cowboy choked.

[][][][][]

Little did Doctor Manley know that when he gave Levon Lundy unlimited visiting time with Joe LaFiamma that Levon would literally camp in the room. Levon snagged a Lazy-Boy chair from somewhere and smuggled it into the room. The nurses laughed when they found him asleep one morning. How he got it past them, they never knew. What they did know was that Joe's system became steadier and gained strength when the cowboy was in the room. That once during a cardiac arrest, it was Lundy's voice snapping at LaFiamma that seemed to bring him back.

A nurse took Joe's vitals, and watched a smile spread across the face of the Texan.

Levon was dreaming of Joe standing naked in the bathroom, waiting for his partner so they could shower together. Lundy was undressing slowly so he could drink in every curve, muscle of his magnificent Italian lover.

A sound from Joe woke him instantly. He almost knocked the nurse down in an effort to get to the bed. "Easy, Levon," the nurse said quietly. "It's normal for comatose patients to mutter in their sleep."

"Ma'am, this was a word, a name." Levon said anxiously.

"Lundy," Joe croaked again, hoarsely.

Lundy moved to the bed as other medical personnel entered the cubicle. A short quick word from Doctor Manley dispersed them all. Leaving Lundy and the critically injured man alone.

"I'm here, Joe." Levon spoke softly. The next words choked in his throat. He knew he had to say them, even though they would be recorded on videotape for life.

"I love you, LaFiamma. God, I love you so much. I didn't mean for ... ."

"It was ... dumb of me ... to meet him ... unarmed," the hoarse voice whispered. Joe's eyes opened slowly. He wasn't aware of the pain, the tubes, the wires. He looked into the eyes of the man he loved. The eyes he was looking into when he was hit were there when he awoke. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Levon's fingers gently touched him.

"Joe, rest. Save your strength,"

"The bullet, Levon ... I can feel it," Joe spoke softly. The tube in his mouth felt as big as a drainpipe.

Lundy could feel the presence of another person in the room. He looked up to see Doctor Manley standing quietly to one side. He moved so the doctor could examine his patient.

Joe panicked when Levon moved out of his line of vision.

"Easy, son," the doctor said, gently laying a hand on Joe's shoulder. "Levon's here. He hasn't left your side since you were brought in."

Lundy did not understand the mumbled response. He leaned back against the wall and listened to Doctor Manley carefully explain to Joe what had happened. And why the bullet had not yet been removed.

Joe wondered if Lundy were here to stay. If what the doctor said was true. Had Lundy really been here since he'd been brought in?

"Levon ... ."

"We need to get you well, Joe. Then you can ask all the questions you want," Doctor Manley replied softly.

Joey's pleading eyes stared back at the doctor. [I have to hear it from Levon before this charade of life goes any further.]

Lundy stared in disbelief as Doctor Manley pulled the curtains, closing the cubicle off from the rest of the Intensive Care Unit. Then he reached up and clicked off the video camera. "I can give you five minutes. No more."

Levon whirled around to his partner before the door was even closed. "Joe, MacGregor lied to me. It was supposed to be ... ."

"Lundy," Joey whispered, his eyes blinking against the soft light above him, "Just tell me one thing ... we partners again?"

Levon moved Joe's hand he was holding from the bed to his lips. Kissing the palm gently, his tongue making a wide circle. "We've always been partners, LaFiamma. There ain't no other partner I want, ever, 'cept you. You damn well better not die on me during surgery."

"Can't promise ... anything ... Levon. But I'll ... try not to." Joe's throat was dry. He was tired. Felt exhausted, like this was some horrible bad dream. He gagged on something in his throat. Lundy saw a trickle of blood slip from the Italian's mouth. He turned on a dime and was through the door for the doctor.

The Texan relinquished possession of his lover as they prepared him for surgery. For the first time in three days, Lundy emerged from the cocoon of Intensive Care into the sunshine of the ICU waiting room.

He was tired. He met the eyes of Joanne Beaumont who had just arrived. She smiled and said, "I've arranged for you to be on administrative leave for a week. We should know by then what Joey's status is. What happened wasn't your fault, Levon."

"Oh, yes it is Jo. I didn't think about anyone but myself. Least of all Joe. I left him high and dry. Cut him off without any air. I'm responsible. God, am I responsible!"

She asked lightly if he thought Michael LaFiamma would follow through on his threat if Joey died. "Yeah, Joanne, I definitely think he meant it. And if LaFiamma dies ... my life won't be worth shit anyway."

[][][][][]

After lunch in the hospital cafeteria with Joanne and a walk around the floor, Lundy returned to ICU. He stopped short, staring at the person stripping down Joe's bed. [They only do that if the patient di ...] He couldn't finish the thought. Didn't even want to think about it. He jumped when a young nurse touched his shoulder.

"It's okay. Joe's been moved to the Critical Care Unit. He's improved slightly since surgery. We've been paging you for thirty minutes. Didn't you hear your name being called?"

"No," he mumbled. The thought of Joe's death chilled him to the bone. [No one to touch. Or hold. No one to love, caress, share my life with. Oh, Joey ... will you ever forgive me?]

"Come on," she said gently, "I'll show you. He should be coming out of it soon. I know he'll want you to be there when he does."

The End