Page 40 of Manner of Death
“I have to be up for it.” He wasn’t going to put Bashir off for anything, especially given how their last date turned out, but Sawyer had to admit he hadn’t envisioned himself showing up bruised and battered either. “I don’t want him to think I’m not serious about this.”
Nan raised an eyebrow. “Slow down, tiger. Just how serious are you about this?”
Sawyer shrugged. “I don’t ask people for a date if I’m not prepared to get serious.”
“No hookups for you, huh?”
“No.” That wasn’t his style at all. Hopefully it wasn’t Bashir’s either, at least so far as it related to Sawyer. “I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow?”
“Yep. I’m taking Wednesday off, though, investigation permitting,” she added as he began to walk away. “Maria and the kids come back then.”
“Sounds good.” Sawyer made it out to his car, got into the driver’s seat, and gave himself a few seconds to feel how exhausted he was. Adrenaline hangover. Twice as strong as the usual kind of hangover, without the fun of acquiring it through drinking. Get over yourself.
He wandered through the nearest liquor store in a bit of a fugue state, eventually picking a decent bottle of red from a winery in France that he’d visited as a kid. Offering in hand, Sawyer drove the rest of the way to Bashir’s hoping he didn’t look as rough as he felt.
His hopes were dashed when Bashir opened the door of his two-level, spotlessly groomed home. The man’s gorgeous smile dropped away, his eyes widened, and he said, “Wow. What on earth happened to you?”
Sawyer sighed. “It’s a long story.” He held up the bottle of wine. “I’ll tell you about it over a glass of something that I’m not supposed to drink for another seventy-two hours, if you want.” Not that he thought he had a concussion, but the EMT was erring on the side of caution. “Or we can talk about something completely different. I just…” Time to be honest? Eh, why not. “Wanted to see you.”
Bashir opened the door wider and took Sawyer’s arm. “Come inside.”
Sawyer went.
Chapter 11
Bashir was beginning to get the distinct impression that he and Sawyer were cursed. Or at the very least, they were never going to experience anything close to a normal date. Not that life was ever close to normal for anyone involved in active murder investigations, but still. So far, they were batting oh-for-two, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know how the third strike would play out. A freak tornado? A volcano emerging in the middle of downtown? Alien invasion? He wouldn’t be surprised by any of it.
“I can grab another pillow if you need it.” He eased onto the couch opposite Sawyer, who was gingerly trying to get comfortable, and offered him one of the two wineglasses.
Wincing, Sawyer took the glass. “This is probably as good as it’s going to get.” He shifted again, hissed sharply, then settled. “I’ll be fine. Doc says I just won’t be sleeping on my back any time soon.”
Bashir bit back a comment about how that could potentially limit some of their options; sex probably wasn’t anywhere near the front of Sawyer’s mind right now. Wasn’t his fault Bashir had spent the afternoon caught up in imagining how things might play out once they were alone. And honestly, even if Sawyer hadn’t been roughed up, Bashir had to wonder if he’d have been in the mood. Everything happening with his partner sounded awful. If one of Bashir’s colleagues was going through something even half as stressful, he didn’t imagine he’d be up for socializing, never mind a date or anything in the bedroom. Just getting an earful from Boyce or listening to Tami’s latest crisis could derail his mood for hours.
But somehow, Sawyer was still here. He sat on Bashir’s couch, twisted slightly to keep from leaning against the left side of his back, and he held a throw pillow against his midsection as if he just needed something to curl around. He’d lost some color apart from the bruising around the bandage on his face, and he was breathing in that slow, measured way people did when they’d either broken ribs or fucked up their back.
Quite frankly, he looked miserable.
“You know,” Bashir ventured cautiously, “I would’ve understood if you’d bailed. Rescheduling over something like this is—”
“No.” Sawyer shook his head. “Tonight is about the only thing that’s kept me upright today.”
Bashir blinked. “It… Really?”
“Well, yeah.” Sawyer gave him a tired smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve had anything to really look forward to.”
“Oh.” Bashir had no idea how to respond to that.
“I’m fine. Honestly.” The smile got a little stronger. “It’s been a long day, but capping it off like this is perfect.”
“So, no pressure to not burn dinner?” Bashir nodded toward the kitchen, where their meal still had about twenty-five minutes left to cook.
Sawyer half-shrugged, a half-smile forming on his lips. “If it’s burned, we’ll order delivery.”
“Fair. But I can actually hold my own in the kitchen, so…”
“I’m sure you can.”
Bashir returned the smile, but awkward silence set in. He scrambled for something to say, trying not to let himself think this was all a mistake and they really didn’t have any chemistry outside of work and some physical attraction. He’d never been great at this with anyone. Was it a good idea to potentially fall on his face with someone he had to see at work on a fairly regular basis? Shit, should they have just—