Cut and Run 1 - Cut and Run

actually want me there rather than going ahead to get us some rooms somewhere?"
    Ty sighed heavily and looked Zane over as he sat on the bike. “Yeah,” he murmured almost dejectedly. “I want you there,” he said pointedly.
    Zane smiled slowly under Ty's frank appraisal. Maybe they were still on the same wavelength. “Tell me where,” he requested. “Unless you want to change your mind.... “he tilted his head to the seat behind him.
    "My dignity and common sense won't allow it,” Ty answered as he nodded to the entrance of the garage. “Follow,” he said succinctly as he turned and began heading for the daylight.
    Chuckling, Zane waited a moment and then coasted the bike behind him. A harrowing ride through DC traffic later and they were in Baltimore, bumping over cobblestone streets as they made their way through the warren of the old city toward Ty's home. Zane parked in the walkway that led to the row house as Ty paid the hefty cab fare.
    Ty stood back and watched the car drive off, then turned slowly to look back at Zane. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes as Ty walked closer. “I know that jacket,” he murmured as he stopped right in front of Zane, hands in his pockets.
    The leather was broken in and beaten up, well-lived in with a few scuffs here and there, a couple rips, and one gash across his upper arm. Abused, but loved. “Do you, now?” Zane asked innocently.
    "I would have taken better care of it,” Ty responded haughtily as he reached up to finger the gash in the arm that didn't look near as worn as the other rips and tears. “This new?” he asked seriously.
    Zane looked at his arm. “Last night. Didn't move out of the way fast enough. Even I can't dodge two bullets at once."
    Ty tutted and shook his head sadly. “Not the man I thought you were, then.” He sighed sorrowfully as he tugged at the slice in the leather and peered in at Zane's arm. Zane shook his head and obligingly held his arm out. The white bandage was still there, extending out from under the red T-shirt he wore under the black leather. What he didn't know was that a few splotches of dark blood colored the gauze. He hadn't checked it since he had stopped for breakfast about ten hours ago.
    "You're bleeding,” Ty told him matter-of-factly as he tilted his head toward the front door. “Come on. I'll pour some rubbing alcohol in it and make me feel better,” he offered with a grin.
    "You want your eardrums broken, too? You'll finally get to hear me scream,” Zane muttered, closing his palm over his arm protectively and looking petulant.
    "Bonus,” Ty crooned as he took Zane's good arm and led him forcefully to the door. Zane grumbled under his breath but didn't resist as Ty pulled him along. “You look like you've been somewhere rough,” Ty observed as he unlocked the door. “They put you undercover?"
    "Yeah,” Zane said, just looking at the other man, soaking in his features. He'd thought about him so much the past four months, he still couldn't quite believe he was here looking at him. “Inner Miami."
    "Explains the accent. It was a waste of your time,” Ty muttered as he pushed the door open and gestured for Zane to go in. “Only thing that'll fix Miami is a fucking nuke."
    "True,” Zane agreed with a shrug. “Kept me busy and out of Burns’ nonexistent hair, I figure.” He walked into the house and paused a few steps inside the front room. The rooms were immaculate, completely at odds with the façade Ty showed to the world. The furnishings were comfortable and well-kept—not to mention actually matching—and not a single item seemed to be out of place. Framed pictures lined the walls of the little living room, each frame identical to the next. They were all black-and-white prints, and told the story of Ty's life and career, showing him smiling and laughing with a variety of heavily armed, uniformed individuals in various exotic and not-so-exotic locations. There were several others that Zane felt certain were of Ty's family.
    Ty watched Zane from behind, letting him observe. Zane's lips pressed together hard. “You sure you got the right house?” he finally asked. Christ. This was nothing like what he would expect from the man he thought Ty was. The dichotomy of the man he had known had run deeper than he had ever suspected.
    Ty frowned at him. “I'm a neat guy,” he pointed out softly.
    Zane slanted him a grin. “I'll have to check the hospital corners on the bed, Jarhead.” He