“Knitting,” Zane repeated flatly.
Burns nodded as there was a knock on the door to his office, and his harried assistant opened it. Burns waved her off as a man pushed past her to enter. Zane turned to see his partner and looked back at Burns with a frown, wondering what was going on.
“Come in, Special Agent Grady,” Burns greeted pleasantly, completely unfazed by Ty’s entrance. “Good to see you.”
“You’re a lousy liar, Dick,” Ty Grady muttered as he ushered Burns’ secretary back out and shut the door in her face. He turned back around and glowered. “I just got off the phone with my dad,” he announced accusingly. “Said he was looking forward to seeing me this week. Know anything about that?”
Burns merely cleared his throat and smiled.
Zane ran his eyes over Ty, skimming over the close-cropped hair and clean-shaven face before moving his attention down over the sand-colored suit and black shirt he was wearing. The tailored suits he’d been wearing while on duty in DC looked incredible on him, though Zane knew Ty hated to wear them. He managed to look loose and comfortable in them despite the almost constant fidgeting they caused him. The tie took the brunt of the fussing during the day. It was usually gone by lunch.
It was amusing to watch him, and Zane did so every day with not a little sympathy. Although, Zane admitted silently, it was worlds better to see his partner like this than as the still, silent ghost of himself Ty had been after the major concussion he’d suffered on their last case.
Right now, Ty looked annoyed, the slight wrinkling of his narrow nose matching his furrowed brow and sparking greenish eyes. He was angry; it was obvious in the sharp and annoyed movements of his lanky, muscled body and the tightness in his jaw.
Ty moved further into the office, glancing at Zane as if he were just noticing him there. He pointed at Zane accusingly. “What’s he done now?” he demanded of Burns.
“Why would you suppose he’s done anything?” Burns asked. Ty opened his mouth to speak, but Burns was faster. “From what I understand, you two are wreaking more havoc amongst the office drones than you ever did in the field. Got anything to say to that?”
“Yeah,” Ty huffed in response. “Stop giving my dad progress reports!”
“He’s an old friend, Ty,” Burns said to him in a low voice. “And I will talk to him whenever I goddamned please. Sit down,” he ordered.
Ty hesitated stubbornly for a moment and then reluctantly moved to obey, flopping into the seat beside Zane. He glared at his partner, as if his being there were somehow Zane’s fault. Zane rolled his eyes and turned his chin so he was looking back out the window.
“Why are we here?” Ty asked impatiently.
“To embarrass me for jackassing my eval,” Zane muttered.
“You’re here to amuse me,” Burns corrected in a sarcastically sweet tone. “But now that you mention the tests….”
Ty glanced over at Zane and frowned slightly. “What’s going on?” he asked, the annoyance draining away, replaced by growing concern.
“Why would you think anything’s going on?” Burns asked curiously. “Smell something in the wind, do you?”
“Uh huh,” Ty responded warily as he looked between them, either oblivious to Burns’ sarcasm or ignoring it.
“Garrett is going on a little vacation,” Burns answered as he leaned back in his chair.
“What? How long?” Ty demanded.
“Three weeks.”
“What?” Ty repeated, slightly more panicked. “But who will I get to do my paperwork?”
“Jesus Christ,” Zane swore quietly. Burns was practically kicking his ass to the curb, and all Ty could think about was the paperwork. Classy.
“I’m still filling out forms from throwing his gun at that cab!” Ty told Burns.
Zane’s lips quirked. Every bullet fired from a service weapon had to be accompanied with a written report for the Bureau. Ty had fired… quite a few bullets at the cab that had almost smeared them across the highway in New York City. Zane didn’t know what paperwork you had to fill out for throwing your gun at something. He’d never tried that before. Hell, he’d never even thought of it before.
“Don’t worry about the paperwork,” Burns told Ty with a grin. “You can finish it when you get back.”
Ty went silent, pursing his lips as he gave both Burns and Zane measuring looks. “Where am I going?” he asked carefully as he looked between them again.
Zane knew Burns sometimes sent Ty off to mysterious places that never produced paperwork. He had yet to find the right opportunity to ask about that though. Ty probably thought he was being sent on one of those trips now. “I’m going on ‘vacation,’ remember?” Zane reminded him, internally bracing for impact.
“What, I have to go with him?” Ty asked incredulously. “Why the hell am I being punished too? Jesus Christ, Dick, I’d rather take his damn tests for him than be sent off into exile!”
“Would you do any better?” Burns asked pointedly.
Ty leaned forward in his chair and smacked his hand against the desk. “I have never f**ked up an eval,” he protested in a hurt voice.
Burns slowly raised an eyebrow. He leaned forward and pushed the folders on his desk around slowly. Then he picked one up and tapped it on the desk, giving Ty a significant look.
“What?” Ty asked, his tone suspicious.
Burns silently slid the folder across the desk.
“What is this?” Ty asked as he took the folder and opened it.
“Your latest psych evaluation,” Burns answered without commenting further.
Ty frowned as he looked at the file and began shaking his head before he snapped the folder shut again, tossing it onto the desk. “Is this medical leave then?” he asked tightly.
Zane sat quietly, taking in the news that Ty must have failed his most recent psychological exam as well. He was surprised. While he himself—usually—was pretty damn good at lying his way through just about any test, Ty was an expert at hiding things he didn’t want other people to know, and mental problems would be at the top of that list. Zane frowned. Ty must not have recovered from the trauma suffered at the hands of the Tri-State killer as well as he claimed. Zane could understand that. He knew Ty had faced almost certain death when Tim Henninger had bricked him into a catacomb and left him in the dark to die. That had to affect a man, especially one whose sanity already teetered on the edge on a good day.