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Title: All That I Need...is You
By: Stacy L.A. Stronach
Pairing: Christopher LaSalle/Victor Ortega
Fandom: NCIS: New Orleans
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Major spoilers for the episode "Undocumented" (2x13).
Why, brain, why? Just because these two spent the entire episode eye fucking each other..and they even hugged ... another one off fandom. I'm probably the only one who sees it. This may very well end up being the only fic for this pairing ever.
Also, I'm putting Victor at around 27 or so years of age. I'm honestly not sure if he's older or younger than Mateo who was 25 when he died. Chris says to him, in that first meeting "I've got an older brother myself"—which I'm not sure means Mateo is older or not, but I'm going with not—makes the age difference a little less. Can't find an actual age for LaSalle, so we'll say he's the same age as his actor, so 34 (2017).
Some dialogue is lifted directly from the episode, transcript found here: http://transcripts.foreverdreaming.org/ See end notes.
Many, many thanks to my beta reader, nebula99--she's definitely a rockstar, since she doesn't even watch this show--but still provided valuable input.
This story was finished for the WIP Big Bang (aka Finish your Shit) 2017.
Note2: Some dialogue was taken from the show in the following scenes: Chris telling Victor his brother is dead, when Chris speaks to Mrs. Ortega and Victor together, Victor being caught in the raid and the interrogation with Chris following that (including scenes with Chris and Merri), and the scene where Chris drops off Claudia to her mother and brother. I've expanded on most of them, but wanted to include them as they're kind of pivotal to the guys' relationship.
Summary: A story of how Christopher LaSalle and Victor Ortega come together.

***

Looking back on it, and if he believed in signs and portents, their relationship had had an inauspicious beginning. After all having to inform someone their loved one had died was not good. Telling them that said loved one had probably committed suicide? Even worse. Fortunately, he didn't believe in those things. Even if he did live in New Orleans.

***

Christopher LaSalle didn't like doing next of kin notifications; he didn't figure anyone actually enjoyed it. It was even worse when it looked like a suicide. But it had to be done and Chris found the construction foreman easily; he was the one wearing the white hard hat. "Excuse me? I'm looking for Victor Ortega, one of your electricians." Chris showed his badge.

The foreman frowned. "He's not in trouble, is he? He's one of my best guys."

"No, I have to inform him of the death of his brother, Mateo," Chris said.

"Oh, shit," the foreman said. "Yeah, he's working over here," he added, pointing to a map of the base. "Or if you'd rather, I could radio him and get him to come over here."

"Yeah, That'd be easier. Thanks." Chris waited as the foreman paged Ortega and the other man replied. Chris closed his eyes and took a deep breath bracing himself for the hardest part of his job. That it was Ortega's brother didn't help; his thoughts naturally turned to his own brother, Cade—Chris knew that someday, he might be receiving similar news.

"There's Ortega," the foreman said, nodding his head.

Chris sighed, clearing his head of thoughts of his own brother. He walked to meet Victor Ortega; the younger man was dark haired and dark eyed, with a slight beard. He was also quite attractive. *Jesus LaSalle, you're about to tell the guy his brother killed himself* he thought.

"What's up?" Victor asked eyeing Chris with wariness.

"Hi, Victor, Special Agent Chris LaSalle, NCIS," he said, showing Victor his badge. He noted the frown on Victor's face; the guy wasn't stupid, Victor obviously knew it was something bad if NCIS was involved.

"What's wrong?"

"I am very sorry to have to tell you this, but your brother, Mateo Ortega, died last night and it looks like he committed suicide," Chris said as gently as he could.

"No, no, Mateo wouldn't...are you sure? Sure it's him? What happened?" Victor asked, stricken.

Chris grabbed Victor's arm when it looked like he might fall down; the other man quickly regained control and stared at Chris, looking lost. "We are sure it is your brother, his cause of death will be determined by the coroner. As of right now, it looks like he jumped off an overpass in Algiers."

Victor didn't look away, his dark brown eyes filled with pain and some confusion. "I really don't think he'd kill himself, Agent LaSalle. I just...he wouldn't."

"If you're up to it, I know it's hard but I need to ask you a few questions about your brother, how he'd been doing?"

Victor frowned. "As far as I know, he was fine...."

Chris shrugged. "Division Officer thought different."

"Guess I was wrong," Victor said defensively.

"Would he normally confide in you?" Chris asked.

"I mean, not always," Victor said with a small, fond smile. "He liked to handle things on his own, didn't want me worrying all the time," he paused for a moment, looking at the ground. "Well, I can't help but feeling I screwed up, like I should've done something."

"What could you have done, Victor?"

Victor stared over Chris' shoulder. "I dunno."

"It's not your fault, alright? You need to hear that," Chris said. Victor looked at him sharply. Chris walked closer to Victor, hoping he'd listen to what Chris was actually saying. "Listen, I got an older brother myself. And he's had his fair share of problems; always fell on me to look after him." He paused for a moment, Victor nodding in agreement. "So I _can_ relate and you can't blame yourself."

Victor wordlessly shook his head. It was obvious he couldn't believe that Chris was right and Chris understood that. He patted Victor on the shoulder, knowing it and his words probably offered little comfort right now. "Take care, alright?" he added and started to walk away, only managing a few steps before Victor spoke.

"Can I see him?" Victor asked quietly.

Chris stopped and turned around, looking confused.

"His body, I just want to say goodbye," Victor said, looking Chris in the eyes.

Chris paused for just a moment. "Of course, you can come with me. I'll make sure you get home. Do you need to tell your foreman?"

Victor shook his head. "I'll text him—he's pretty understanding. And thank you, Agent LaSalle."

"You're welcome and please, call me Chris. I'll drive you to the coroner's office."

The thirty-five minute drive was filled with silence. Victor leaned his head against the window and Chris was willing to bet he didn't even notice the passing scenery. Chris didn't try to engage Victor in conversation—if he wanted to talk, Chris would listen, of course, but Victor didn't seem so inclined right now. And Chris certainly couldn't blame him for that.

Chris asked Victor to wait in the hallway; he had to make sure it would be okay for Victor to see his brother right now. He was half relieved to find out it wasn't a suicide, if only for Mateo's family; he glanced through the window of the door to where Victor was waiting for him. On the other hand, it now meant he had a murder to investigate. "I'm gonna go get his brother and let him know it wasn't suicide," Chris said, walking out to Victor.

Victor looked up when the doors opened and waited for Chris to speak.

"I've got some news, Victor. Miss Loretta has determined that your brother's death was murder, not suicide," he saw the relief flood Victor's face and decided he was glad to have a murder case on his hands. "You can go in and see him, but Miss Loretta's got some paperwork you gotta sign, okay?"

"Okay," Victor paused and reached out, grasping Chris' arm. "I...thank you so much."

"You're welcome. Now c'mon," Chris replied, leading Victor into the other room.

"Victor Ortega, this is our coroner, Doctor Loretta Wade," Chris introduced them.

"Mr. Ortega, I am so very sorry for your loss," Loretta said, shaking his hand. "I just need you to sign this and we'll give you some time with your brother." Loretta explained what he was signing and handed him a pen.

"Thank you, Doctor Wade," Victor said, signing where she'd indicated.

"We'll just be right out here when you're done," Chris said, patting Victor's shoulder.

He and Loretta then went out into the hallway, allowing Victor time with his brother.

"I have to say, that I'm glad it wasn't suicide. Easier on the family," Chris said. "I mean, not by much, but still...."

Loretta nodded, touching his arm. "Don't worry, I know what you mean."

A few minutes later, Victor came out of the room, his eyes red-rimmed. "I just realised—has anyone told my mother?" he asked.

"Yes, one of our other agents, Meredith Brody, went to tell her—"

Victor looked stricken. "This is going to kill her, especially if she thinks he killed himself."

"Mr. Ortega, I contacted Agent Brody and let her know my conclusions—she'll have informed your mother that it was murder," Loretta said.

"Thank god," Victor whispered. After a moment, he looked up, sheepish. "I mean, it's just that my mother is Catholic—Mateo dying is awful, but it would have broken her heart completely if he'd killed himself."

"You don't have to explain," Chris said. "Let me take you to your mother's house, okay?"

Victor nodded. "Yes, that would...yes, thank you."

Chris clasped Victor's shoulder for a moment. "No problem. I'll call Brody to let her know we're coming over."

It was another quiet drive. Chris wove his way through the side streets, stealing a glance at Victor now and again. A few blocks from Mrs. Ortega's house, Victor spoke.

"Agent LaSalle—"

"Chris."

"Chris, sorry. I just wanted to thank you for what you've done for me this afternoon. You've made it...I dunno, easier, I guess."

"You're welcome. It's hard losing someone you love—and to me, it's part of my job to help the people left behind however I can. The most important being catching whoever committed the crime. I promise you, Victor, that we'll do everything we can to find Mateo's killer," Chris said, pulling up to a stop outside the house. He looked at Victor, catching the other man's gaze. "I really do mean that."

Victor gave a small smile. "That's good to know and again, thank you."

Chris nodded. "We should get you in to your mom."

Both men got out of the SUV and walked up to the front door. Victor knocked. "Ma, it's me," he said before walking inside.

Rita Ortega was sitting on her couch with Meredith Brody and the younger woman had her arm around Rita's shoulder.

As soon as she saw her son, Rita jumped up and rushed over to hug him. Victor wrapped his arms around his mother, kissing the side of her head. "Oh, mama," he whispered.

Brody stood and moved to stand beside Chris. "We should head back," she said.

Chris nodded. "Victor, Mrs. Ortega. Again, we're sorry for your loss. We will probably need to speak to both of you a few times over the next few days, just so you're aware."

Victor looked at Chris and nodded, indicating he'd heard him.

The two agents walked outside, Chris closing the door behind him.

"It's hard to lose someone like that," Brody said, shaking her head. "I am glad it wasn't suicide, for the family's sake."

"Yeah, I hear ya, I said the same thing to Miss Loretta earlier. I guess we should get to work on finding out who killed Mateo Ortega, then."

"I'll see you back at the office," Brody said, climbing into her car.

Chris waved, getting into his SUV; he sat behind the wheel, staring at the brick facade of Rita Ortega's house and found his thoughts drifting back to Victor Ortega. He felt a connection to the younger man but wasn't sure why. He'd dealt with other men who'd had brothers, both good and not so good. That was part of it, but there seemed to be more and Chris couldn't quite put his finger on what that was; all he knew was that he was hoping he'd see more of Victor in the coming days.

A car horn blaring startled Chris out of his reverie. Starting the engine, he headed back to the office.

It was only a few hours later that Chris got to see Victor again. Chris had called Rita Ortega in to speak to her about Mateo and Victor had come with her.

Chris slid a cup of tea across the table to her before he sat down; he glanced at Victor before speaking to Rita, "Look, you don't have to be nervous, ma'am."

Victor moved from behind his mother's chair to sit down. "Ma hasn't had the best experiences with the law," he said.

Rita wrapped her hands around the warm mug. "I love this country, but things happen when you are an immigrant."

Chris looked at her, making eye contact and he tapped his hand on the table to emphasize his words. "Miss Ortega, there's only one thing I care about right now—helping your family." He hoped that both she and Victor believed him.

She shared a look with Victor and he nodded.

"Okay," she said. "What do you want to know?"

Chris was glad she was willing to cooperate. "Is there anything you can tell me about...who would want to harm your son?"

Rita was taken aback. "Enemies? No, not Mateo. Maybe people have a problem with Victor sometimes, he is the sabelotodo. The wise ass." She chuckled.

Chris exchanged a look and a smile with Victor. And ignored the little jolt that gave him. "Yeah, sounds like my brother," he agreed with a wry chuckle.

Rita continued. "But not Mateo. Mateo was the good boy."

"Still living at home with Mommy," Victor interrupted in a sing song voice.

Rita raised her head back. "And what's wrong with that, huh?" she said. "Let me tell you something. When we came to the United States, we travelled twelve hundred miles from Honduras. Twelve hundred! And the entire time, Mateo was smiling. Hmm. Fifteen years old. With almost no water, no shelter. And he smiles. Who would hurt someone like that?"

Chris was quiet for a moment; he didn't tell her he often thought that about the victims they sought justice for. "I don't know, Miss Ortega, I really don't." He looked at Victor. "Do you know anyone who might've wanted to hurt Mateo?"

Victor shared another short look with his mother and Chris was sure she shook her head. He frowned, wondering if there was something they weren't telling him.

"No, I don't know anyone like that. And Mateo never mentioned having a problem with anyone. I wish I did know someone," Victor replied.

Chris regarded them both for a moment, and then nodded."Okay. If you think of anything, anything at all, please just give me a phone call. Thanks for coming in, Miss Ortega, Victor." Chris stood and shook their hands before they left.

After the Ortegas had gone, he went to his desk to enter his notes and information for the day. He reviewed everything they had so far on the case, wanting to see if he could make any connections, but came up with zilch. Chris looked at his watch; it was well past supper, so he decided to head home; eat and get some rest, look at things with fresh eyes in the morning.

Chris stopped for take out on his way home, he was too lazy to make his own meal and didn't feel like going to King's either, he wasn't in the mood for company. Traffic was thankfully light and he got home in a decent time.

Grabbing his food, Chris went in the house. He threw his keys in the basket by the door, toed off his shoes and managed to get his jacket off without putting down the bag of food. He walked through to the living room; put the bag on the table. Chris secured his gun in its safe before walking through the kitchen to grab a beer.

He finally dropped onto the couch, grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. He flipped it from the news to the cooking channel, some days he just didn't want to hear about further death and destruction. And while he didn't have strong feelings for cooking one way or the other (he could cook enough to survive, if he wanted, but he certainly wasn't on Dwayne Pride's level of skill), he enjoyed the competition shows.

As he ate, Chris found his thoughts drifting back to Victor even though he knew he shouldn't, after all the young man was involved in their investigation. But Chris couldn't deny that Victor was good looking, and while he might be a smart ass, he seemed like a good person too. Of course, Chris didn't really know him, but he wanted to and it'd been a long time since Chris had felt that way about another man. He usually only went out with and had relationships with women, despite being bisexual; it was easier.

Trying to get his mind off of Victor, Chris closed his eyes, leaning back against the couch. As soon as he did, David's face flashed through his mind.

David LaVoy.

Chris hadn't thought of him in a while, forced himself not to think about David too much. He was someone best left in the past. They'd met as small children—David's aunt had lived up the road from Chris' family. David and his mother would come visit from the city every summer, and one year, when the boys were four or five (no one truly remembered which is it was), they'd been introduced. Chris' dad said they'd been hesitant around each other for a few minutes, until Chris showed David his dinky car collection, then they'd gotten on like a house on fire.

As their friendship grew, David would sometimes come down on the weekends, too. They'd take turns sleeping over at the LaSalle's or the LaVoy's. As the boys got older, Chris would sometimes go into the city and stay at David's place for a bit, but they both preferred Chris' hometown. They both loved being outdoors and there was a lot more to do at Chris' place than there was in the city.

Things changed the year Chris and David turned 16. David came down as usual the first day after school ended, but he seemed...different. He wasn't as outgoing or chatty as usual and even though Chris asked, David wouldn't admit that anything was wrong.

One weekend, the two of them decided to go camping for a few days—do some fishing, kicking around in the woods, the same stuff they'd done for years. David seemed more like himself now, so Chris wasn't worried anymore; he figured David would tell him what had been wrong at some point.

They set out early and by lunch had their little campsite set up; they'd camped there before and knew the area well. There was a small river nearby with plenty of fish and nice spot for swimming.

"Do we eat or swim first?" Chris asked.

David laughed. "Oh, let's swim. It's so fucking hot and I wanna cool off. Let's go!"

The boys ran down to the water's edge, stripping down to their shorts before rushing into the water.

David straddled Chris, his hair wet and dripping as he leaned forward, pinning Chris' hands down. He stared at Chris.

"David?" Chris whispered. The way David was staring at him was making his stomach do funny things. He'd only felt something similar when he'd been making out with Becky Johnson. "What are you doing?"

David shook his head and let Chris go, rolling off of him and jumping up. "Shit, I'm sorry, man." He ran back to the camp site.

Chris walked back, not sure what had happened...or had almost happened. By the time he got back to the tent, David was inside and it looked like he was packing up his stuff. Chris burst into the tent, kneeling next to his friend. "Please talk to me. What's going on?"

"Don't Chris, just let me leave. If I tell you, you'll never talk to me again."

Chris grabbed David's arm. "Why? You're my best friend—what's wrong?"

"You really wanna know?" David asked harshly. At Chris' nod of agreement, David grasped Chris' face in his hands. "I almost did this," he whispered before kissing Chris.

It was a hard kiss and at first Chris didn't react at all. He'd never even thought about kissing a boy...but one thing was clear to Chris: he liked it.

David broke the kiss. "See that's what—"

Chris leaned in and kissed David. He was much gentler, sliding his lips against David's, slipping his tongue out to lick at David's, moaning when David deepened and returned the kiss.

Wrapping his arms around David, Chris pulled him closer before turning and falling back onto the sleeping bags, dragging David down on top of him. Chris shifted, spreading his legs.

David broke the kiss, settling between Chris' legs, feeling Chris' hard on against his thigh. He gazed at Chris in amazement. "You want this?"

"Oh, yeah," Chris grinned lopsidedly. "Can't ya tell?" he asked. "I can tell you want me," he added.

 

The wrapped hand around each other's cocks, jerking the other off, until David pushed Chris' hand aside and started rubbing their cocks together. Chris gasped, "Oh fuck, David, David!" Moments later he came, hard, coming over both their stomachs.

David buried his face against Chris' neck, groaning, hips stuttering as his release hit him moments later. He collapsed half on top of Chris as they collected their breaths. Chris kept an arm around David's shoulder, stroking him.

After their breathing was returned to normal, David rolled onto his back, next to Chris. "I hope you didn't do that cus you pity me," David said.

"Dude, I'm a good friend, but I'm not that good a friend," Chris said, smiling. He stroked the side of David's face. "I wanted to do that, wanted to do it with you." Chris rolled onto his side, grabbing his kit bag. "God, I hope I got some wet wipes in here, we made a fucking mess."

They'd ended up spending more time in the tent on their camping trip than they'd planned but Chris hadn't complained. It had been an almost magical summer; spending time with David had taken on a whole other dimension. Until that last weekend in July before school had started and Chris' grandfather had discovered the two boys making out in Chris' room....

Chris shook his head, opening his eyes; he didn't want to think about that right now. Chris had realised, even back then, that as much as he loved David, he still liked girls too. It'd taken him a few years, but he'd eventually found a name for it: bisexuality. His grandfather's reaction (and to a lesser degree his father's not as severe reaction) to Chris' being with another boy, had convinced him that it was easier and safer to just date girls.

David had never come back to visit—either his aunt or Chris. It'd been almost ten years later that he'd seen David again and it'd been the last time he'd seen him as well. It had been the summer after he'd finished college; he ran into him at a little cafe in New Orleans. Chris had noticed David first; the other man was still good looking—his black hair and pale skin, the bright green eyes. Chris almost didn't say anything, the butterflies in his stomach telling him he shouldn't.

Chris ignored those butterflies. He walked over to David's table. "Well, as I live and breathe, if it isn't David LaVoy," he said.

David looked up in shock, then laughed as he stood. "Well, well, if it isn't the one and only Christopher LaSalle." David pulled Chris into a hug.

Chris returned the embrace, closing his eyes and relishing the contact with David.

Too soon, David moved back, gesturing for Chris to sit down. "What are you doing here, in the city?"

"Applying for some jobs with law enforcement. What about you?"

"Just one last visit before Michael and I move up north. I've landed a good job at a publishing house in New York."

Chris smiled brightly, trying to hide his disappointment that David had someone. "Well, that's great, congrats. I assume Michael's your boyfriend?"

David nodded. "Yeah, we met at college. What about you, anyone special?"

Chris shook his head. "Not yet." There was an uncomfortable silence. "I'm glad you're happy," Chris finally said.

"Are you really?"

Chris nodded. "Yes, yes I am. Look, maybe I don't have the right to say this, but I'm sorry. Sorry that I couldn't be brave enough...." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I never called or wrote to you again, I'd understand if you hated me."

David was quiet, watching Chris. "I understand better now why you never contacted me after your grandfather.... Just know that I don't hate you Chris; sure, I was angry when I was a teen but that's just it. We were kids. I don't regret what we had."

Chris let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "I don't regret it either," Chris said. He found he didn't want to meet Michael. Chris looked at his watch. "Didn't realise it was getting so late. I've got another appointment, so I should be going."

If David heard the lie, he ignored it. "It really was good seeing you again, Chris," he said. "Take care of yourself."

Chris reached out and shook David's hand. "Yeah, it was good seeing you, too." Chris stood up. "Good bye, David," he said and Chris walked out of the coffee shop, not looking back.

The ringing of his cell phone startled Chris. He forced thoughts of David from his mind as he looked at his phone. Cade. Figures his brother would be the one to interrupt his thoughts. He answered. "So, Cade, what're you up to now?"

****

The next day and half sped by in a blur. They'd had and dismissed so many theories about Mateo's involvement with Barrios, the illegal immigrants...it was just confusing. Add to that, ICE had picked Rita Ortega up after her interview with Pride earlier today—and Victor had been there, had almost gotten himself arrested.

Chris couldn't help but feel guilty with Victor's "That's your idea of help?" shouted at him as the younger man had stalked off. Now, Chris was sifting through the evidence, yet again, trying to figure out what in the hell was going on, Barrios was dead—so he'd obviously not been the one to kill Mateo.

He and Merri were discussing the case when Patton came in with information that there was going to be another boatload of illegal immigrants arriving tonight. Chris figured that it would provide a good chance to get a hold of one of the members of Barrios' gang; see if they knew what was going.

A few hours later and NCIS and the Coast Guard were in place, waiting for the ship to come in. As soon as the gang started off loading the immigrants, the Coast Guard surrounded them on the water, while NCIS dealt with the people already on the land. As they rushed to get everyone, Chris saw a figure hiding behind some barrels.

"NCIS! Come out of there!" Chris yelled.

The suspect ignored him and took off running.

Chris followed. "We've got a runner! I'm on him!" he shouted running after the suspect. "Stop, NCIS!"

Chris managed to cut the suspect off and push him to the ground; he pointed his weapon at him. "Stay down on the ground, put your hands where I can see them!" Chris ordered.

The man raised his arms, open handed, over his head, as Chris continued to shout. "Get 'em up, get 'em up!"

"Okay! Okay! Don't shoot, don't shoot!" the man said, rolling onto his back.

As the light on his gun shone in the other man's face, Chris felt his stomach drop. "Victor?" Chris couldn't speak for a moment, they were both frozen. Finally, he said, "What in the hell are you doing here?"

Victor just shook his head. "Can I get up?"

Chris lowered his weapon; it was obvious Victor was unarmed. "Yeah, c'mon." He helped Victor stand up. "But again, what in the hell are you doing here."

"I can't tell you, I'm sorry."

"Fine, you can tell us back at the office," Chris said. "I should handcuff you but if you promise not to run on me again? I won't."

Victor nodded. "I promise."

"Good." Chris took him by the arm and led him to his SUV. He radioed Pride. "I found Victor Ortega—he was our runner. Got 'em in my car."

"Okay, take him back and put him in interrogation, I want to talk to him," Pride replied.

Chris climbed into the vehicle and started it. He stared at Victor for a moment before pulling the car out onto the street. "Look, you can talk to me, to Pride; we're here to help you."

Victor said nothing, just leaned his head against the window and stared blankly out into the night.

"You need to tell us what's going on, Victor. First your brother was involved with the illegal immigrants and we don't know why. And now we find you down there? Please, talk to me."

Victor wouldn't even look at Chris, let alone speak to him.

Chris shook his head not bothering to try again. He didn't think Victor was directly involved, and didn't think it was wishful thinking on his part, his gut told him that wasn't the case. He did feel that whether it was because of Mateo or something or someone else, there was a connection, somehow to the Ortegas...but Chris had no idea what it was.

Once back at the office, Chris led Victor to one of the interrogation rooms and sat him at the table. "You want something to drink? Water? Coffee?"

Victor shook his head.

"Okay, I gotta go fill out the paperwork for this—Pride will be in here a bit to talk to you. If you can't tell me, at least think about telling him? You can trust him...you can trust me."

There was no response from the other man, he simply folded his hands on the table in front of him and stared at a spot on the table.

Chris sighed, walking out and closing the door. He wished Victor would trust him; yes, he knew Rita being picked up by ICE hadn't helped, but still. He shook his head in frustration, heading out to his desk—after all they still didn't know who had actually murdered Mateo and Barrios.

He watched as Pride interviewed Victor for almost 45 minutes before giving up. Victor had said no more to Pride than he had to Chris.

Chris walked out of the observation room and looked at Pride. "He said about as much to me. I don't know what is going on with him."

"Well, let him sit in there for a little while, an hour or so, then we'll try again. I think we just need something to get through to him," Pride said. "I'm going to go talk to some of the 1821s, see if they've got any idea who killed Barrios."

"I'll go check and see if Merri found anything," Chris replied, heading to the main office.

****

"Pride get anything out of him?" Merri asked as Chris came into the bullpen.

"All clammed up. Won't say word one. Pride's gonna let him stay in there and stew for awhile. I mean, what the heck was Victor doing there anyway?" Chris replied as they walked to her desk.

"Here's another question for you: did you know anything about Victor and Mateo having a sister?" she asked.

"Sister? No."

"I called that bank in Honduras, turns out Mateo's wire transfers were to a Claudia Ortega, his little sister. She's 18, lives in Choloma."

Chris frowned. "Why didn't they ever mention that?"

"Here's the other thing that's strange, she's missing. I called her apartment building, no one has seen her in five days."

Chris stared at Claudia's picture for a moment. He was pretty sure he could see more of the puzzle now—someone had kidnapped Claudia to get Mateo and/or Victor to help them. "I'll talk to him," Chris said, striding down the hallway to the interrogation room.

He burst in, shutting the door behind him. He leaned his hands on the table, staring at Victor, making the other man lean back. "I know about Claudia. Does someone have her, is she in danger?"

Victor didn't speak, dropped his gaze to the floor. Chris was starting to get a little frustrated, he slapped the table, making Victor jump. "Damn it, Victor, you gotta talk to me!"

Victor glared at Chris. "I got nothing to say!" he spat out.

"Look, I'm the only one that can help you."

Victor squinted at Chris. "I don't know you," he said. "For all I know you're working with them."

Chris spoke as he pulled out the chair to sit down. "Is that why you're not being straight with me?" He leaned on the table, "What, you think I'm corrupt?"

Victor tilted his head, a smirk on his face. "I can't trust anyone!"

Shifting in his chair, Chris said, " Well how far do you think that's gonna get you?" He paused. "Hmm? Cus whatever's going on, you can't do it alone!"

Victor didn't speak; he lowered his gaze to stare at the table. He looked like he wanted to reach out, but couldn't, for some reason.

Chris wanted to reach out and shake him, make him realise that he was one of the good guys, that he'd help him, no matter what. Chris said, "Look, Victor," as he stood up. "When we met," he continued, pushing the chair. Chris walked around the side of the table, toward Victor, hand on his hips. "I told you about my brother." Chris moved closer to Victor, pausing to consider his words. "You and I both know how important it is," he said, sitting down on the table edge next Victor, leaning in, staring at him, "To take care of family."

Victor looked at Chris, his gaze dropping again before staring ahead again.

To Chris it felt like he'd gotten through to Victor, maybe, finally

Taking a deep breath, Victor spoke. "Edgar Barrios. His people in Honduras. They have Claudia."

Chris frowned. "Why is she involved with Barrios?"

Still staring straight ahead, Victor continued, "It's not her fault. Claudia was too young when we left Honduras. The journey, she wouldn't have made it."

Chris stood and walked back around the table as Victor spoke. "We tried to bring her out the legal way, but with all of the violence at home now, my mother decided she had to get her out."

"So, your mom went to Barrios," Chris said, crossing his arms.

"She even emptied Mateo's bank account."

Chris was quiet as he sat down, hand over the lower part of his face, listening intently to what Victor said, "So, Mateo went to Barrios himself, demands his money back. It was a stupid idea, I told him not to."

"Barrios broke his hand," Chris said; statement, not question.

"Not just that," Victor said, pained. "He decided he could use Mateo, wanted patrol routes. Told Mateo that if he helped, just a couple of times, that he would bring Claudia over. I thought maybe Claudia would be there tonight."

Chris looked perplexed, "So Mateo trusted Barrios?"

Victor shook his head. "Of course not, Mateo was a US sailor."

"So then the routes weren't real?"

"No," Victor said, and paused, leaning forward with his arms on the table. "Mateo said the best way to Claudia was to take Barrios down. He thought that when he went to meet the boat, that he would have back up." Victor leaned forward. "I was supposed to be a sting!"

Chris had a terrible suspicion brewing in his brain; he almost didn't want to ask the next question since he had a good idea what the answer would be. "Who else was supposed to be there?"

Victor took a deep breath, looked at Chris then down at the table before meeting Chris' gaze again. "That ICE agent, Randy Wilson."

Chris closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "Damn it."

"You don't believe me?" Victor asked, defensive.

Chris said forward, grasped Victor's arm. "I believe you Victor, I believe every word you've said to me. It's just...well I don't like hearing about other law enforcement agents, whether they're in my agency or another one, doing things like this, is all."

The door open and Pride came in.

"You hear all that?" Chris asked.

Pride nodded. "Yes, I did." He sat on the edge of the table next to Victor. "I promise you that we'll get Wilson and we WILL find your sister," Pride said. "Chris, you finish up with Victor, get his statement and get him home. We'll work on the warrant tor Wilson."

"Yes, sir," Chris replied. He turned to Victor and smiled. "Everything'll be okay."

Victor wiped at his eyes. "You can get Claudia?"

Chris nodded. "Pride's on the case, he won't give up til we find her, trust me," he paused and grinned. "Hmm, I think I said that before...didn't I? Glad you finally did."

Victor smiled and reached over to shake Chris' hand. "Yes and I guess I should've done it sooner...."

Chris shook his head. "It's okay. You did in the end and things are gonna be fine. Now, let's get you finished up in here so we can send you home."

They arrested Randy Wilson the next day and Chris had to admit, it'd been a long time since he'd felt so good arresting someone.

Seven days later

"Agent LaSalle?"

Chris looked up from his phone at the Customs Border Protection agent addressing him. It was the same woman he'd spoken with about Claudia Ortega's entry into the US. "Yes, Officer McKinley?"

"We've finished processing Claudia Ortega and she's ready to leave now, so if you'll follow me." She led him down a short hallway to the room where Claudia was waiting.

McKinley opened the door and gestured at Claudia. "It's okay, you can come out. This is Agent LaSalle, from NCIS."

"Thank you," Claudia said. She picked up her purse and walked toward Chris. "Hello, Agent LaSalle," she reached a hand out, hesitant.

Chris took her hand and gently shook it. "Hello, Claudia, it's nice to meet you. Welcome to America," he said with a broad smile. He let her precede him out of the room. "Let's go and grab your things and then I'll take you to your family. Sound good?"

"Oh, yes. It sounds wonderful. It's been so long since I've seen them...."

"Well, it'll be only a short little while and you'll see them again."

A few minutes later and they were settled in Chris' SUV. Claudia was silent for the first part of the journey—the surrounding scenery capturing her wide eyed attention.

"Like what you see?" Chris asked.

"Yes, it's beautiful—and so huge. I'd seen pictures but it doesn't really prepare you for it," she replied. Claudia turned to look at Chris. "I just wanted to thank you, Agent LaSalle for everything you and NCIS have done. My mother and Victor told me how you solved Mateo's murder and got that horrible ICE agent." She paused for a moment, looking out the window again. "If it hadn't been for me, Mateo might still be alive...."

Chris glanced at her, frowning. He reached over and took her hand for a moment. "Listen to me, Claudia, the only person to blame for your brother's death is Randy Wilson. And he will pay for what he's done. I also know it doesn't bring Mateo back, but you can be very proud of your brother. He was trying to help you, trying to stop what Barrios and Wilson were doing."

Claudia sniffled, wiping at her eyes. "I know. I just wish I'd had the chance to know him better—more than just letters and pictures."

"I wish you could've too. But you still have your mom and Victor. I know they're so happy that you're coming to be with them."

"Yes and I'm happy to be with them again," Claudia said.

After a few minutes of silence, Chris spoke. "Hey, if you have any questions, yanno, about the US, Louisiana or New Orleans, ask away."

****

Twenty minutes later, they were pulling up in front of Rita Ortega's house; Chris could see Mrs. Ortega and Victor waiting outside the front door of her house. As he stopped beside the curb, they hurried down to the sidewalk. Claudia was out of the SUV in a heartbeat, rushing to the waiting arms of her mother and brother.

Chris walked slowly around the vehicle, watching the family reunion. After a moment, Rita and Claudia headed for the house, while Victor walked over to Chris.

Victor looked at his family before returning his gaze to Chris and smiling softly. "I don't know what to say...."

Chris glanced at Rita and Claudia, then back at Victor. "We worked with ICE, got Claudia expedited processing. She got her asylum status so she can stay." He paused; Victor was close to tears, his relief that his sister was safe almost palpable. "And the director of ICE gave us her word. They're gonna ensure that Wilson is prosecuted to the full extent of the law." Speaking the words, Chris couldn't help but feel even that wouldn't be enough to make up for the damage Wilson had caused.

"Thank you," Victor said, staring directly at Chris, gratitude coming off him in waves; he was tearing up.

Chris stared back at Victor, felt that he could do that for days and not get tired of it. He couldn't do that, though, Victor's family was waiting for him. "Now go, be with your family, man. They need you."

Reaching out to shake Chris' hand, Victor pulled him in for a hug. Chris was surprised for a second; he returned the embrace, again finding himself thinking how he could stay in Victor's embrace all day.

Victor pulled back, a soft look in his warm brown eyes. "Your brother is lucky to have you," he said, still holding onto Chris' hand. "Thank you," he repeats, finally stepping back.

Chris couldn't help but feel a bit bereft. Their gazes held for a moment (though to Chris it felt so much longer), until Victor turned his attention to his family waiting by the door. He watched the Ortega family for a couple minutes before turning toward his car.

"Agent LaSalle!" Rita called out.

"Ma, don't..." Victor said.

Chris turned around. "Yes?"

Rita hurried over to him. "We will be holding Mateo's funeral tomorrow—we wanted to wait til Claudia was here. I would like it very much if you would come. So would Victor," she said giving her son a sly glance.

Chris wasn't sure what that was about at all. "I'd be honoured to be there, Mrs. Ortega. Thank you for inviting me."

"Good, it's at 2 p.m. at St. Teresa of Avila," Rita said. She reached out and gave him a hug, which he returned. "Thank you, again, for all you've done for us."

Chris smiled. "You're very welcome."

He watched her go back to her children and got into his SUV. He watched for a moment longer as the small family went inside—and he was sure he saw Victor turn to look back, but Chris wasn't sure.

He leaned back in his seat. Chris was still a bit stunned that Victor had hugged him; he wasn't sure what to make of it. And Mrs. Ortega inviting him to the funeral? Chris also did not know what to make of that, either.

Chris started the car and headed back to the office; he wanted to let King know how everything had gone.

****

Chris laughed as he and Brody left King's kitchen after King had revealed he knew what his team had been up to, putting his profile on a dating site. "We had to try," he said.

"I told you, did I not, it was a bad idea," Brody replied, pushing against his shoulder. "Wanna go out and get a drink or some dinner?"

"Nah, I think I'll pass. Been a long day. Think I'll just go home and put my feet up for a bit."

Brody nodded. "Okay, then, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Chris said.

Chris went straight home; he had left over take out from the other night that would still be good and he was tired, it'd been a long day. He put the food on a tray in the oven and decided to go make sure his black suit was in good enough shape to wear to the funeral tomorrow. He'd cleared the time off with Pride already, so he was good to go on that end.

He pulled his suit out of the closet, checked it over and it was fine. He also hung out the shirt and tie he'd wear with it. He made sure his dress shoes were shined and even took the socks he was going to wear out of the drawer and placed them on his shoes.

****

The next day was a mild, sunny day. Mateo Ortega's funeral was a sad affair—mostly because he'd been so young when he'd been killed. But in another sense, Chris found it to be positive—so many people sharing their memories of how good and kind Mateo had been, how he'd always been willing to help others out.

After the service, Chris got in the reception line; he let himself be one of the last as he hadn't known Mateo at all. Claudia and Rita both smiled at him and thanked him for coming.

"Thank you for coming, Chris," Victor said and he surprised him again, by pulling Chris into another hug. "It means a lot to me."

"You're welcome."

As Victor let go of Chris, he said, "Why don't you come over to the house? We're having a small get together. If you have time."

Chris noticed Rita smiling and nudging Claudia as Victor spoke; he wasn't sure what to make of it. But he'd jump at the chance to spend time with Victor. "I can do that, thank you for asking."

"No, thank you for coming. I'll see you there in a little while," Victor said, letting Chris go completely.

An hour later and Chris was sitting in the Ortega's back yard next Victor on top of Rita's picnic table, drinking a beer.

Chris pushed his leg against Victor's. "How're you doing?"

Victor took a sip of his beer. He shrugged. "Some days better than others. I still have moments where I want to text him about something. Or I think 'Hey, Mateo would find this story so funny.' And then there's days that I never forget that he's gone."

"I can't even imagine what'd be like if I lost Cade," Chris said, and he really couldn't. "So, how's Claudia doing?"

Victor smiled. "Well, she's doing well. I have to remember she's not a little kid anymore—but she keeps reminding me."

"Nah," said Chris. "I got a little sister, too and I don't think I'll ever think of her as grown up. Still my baby sister."

"Yeah, that's part of it. But you know, she's adapting well to life here in the states—and I know mom is so happy she's here. We just wish she'd been able to see Mateo again."

"Hey, do you guys want some more beer?" Claudia Ortega asked, holding out two new bottles.

"Sure, thanks, Claudia," Chris said.

Victor said something to her briskly in Spanish. Claudia just laughed, stuck her tongue out at her brother and handed the beer to them.

Chris watched as Claudia started back to the house. "I don't speak a lot of Spanish but you didn't sound happy—"

"He told me to stop spying on him," Claudia said, smirking at her brother.

"Claudia, please, go back in the house," Victor said with a sigh.

"Why would she be spying on you?" Chris asked.

Victor regarded him for a moment, and shrugged. "Look, I'm gay. My family knows and my mom can read me better than an open book." At Chris' confused look, he continued. "They know I'm attracted to you," he finished, staring intently at his beer bottle.

"Oh," was all Chris said at first; he was still processing Victor's confession.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't've said—"

Chris stopped him with a hand on his forearm. "No, it's okay," Chris knew he was smiling like a loon. "I like you too."

"Really?"

Chris nodded.

The two men stared at each other for a few seconds and then they both burst out laughing. It took them a few minutes to get themselves under control.

Chris was still chuckling. "I'm not even sure what was so funny, but it was hilarious." He pushed against Victor again. "I know it's probably tacky to, uh, ask you this at your brothers' wake—"

"If you're going to ask me out, I don't think it's tacky at all."

"Okay, then, you wanna go out, maybe get some dinner and go to a movie?"

Victor smiled (a smile Chris found he wanted to see a lot more of). "Sounds great." He pulled out his phone. "When is good for you?"

Chris got his phone out and looked. "Any night in the next week Let's say Wednesday?"

"Okay, sounds good. Where do you wanna go to eat—fancy or casual?"

'Oh, God, casual please," Victor said.

"Good choice. A friend of King's got a nice little place and I can get us reservations."

****

It turned out to be closer to three weeks before they went on their first date. Chris had ended up being on a case the first two times they'd tried to go out. But tonight, he was determined they'd make it through.

He walked up outside the restaurant and spotted Victor at almost the same time Victor noticed him. "Hey Victor, good to see you."

Victor hugged him (something Chris was quickly growing to like a lot). "Good to see you too."

"Pride has promised me that he will not call me in tonight."

"You told him you were going out with me?"

"Told him I had a date, is all. Let's go eat, I'm starving," Chris said, walking inside the restaurant.

Pride did keep his word and Chris was not called into work that evening, much to Chris' relief. Dinner went well and they'd gone to the latest action blockbuster and now, Chris was driving Victor home.

He parked out in front of Victor's building. "Here we are."

"Yep, here we are," Victor said. "I had a great time tonight, Chris."

"Me too," Chris said, turning so he face Victor. "I'd like to do it again."

Victor smiled. "Me too. Let's set a tentative date."

Chris laughed. "Yeah, sorry about that but my job. It's a part of it, being called out any time of day."

"I wasn't being critical," Victor said. He reached up to cup Chris' face. "I know it's part of it and I really don't mind, okay?"

Chris nodded, stroking the back of Victor's hand with his fingers. It was quiet in the car and silence was heavy but not uncomfortable. Victor leant forward, his intention clear; Chris met him part way, closing his eyes as their lips met in a gentle kiss.

It started out as warm lips brushing warm lips but Chris wanted more. He cupped Victor's face in his hand, licked at his lips, wanting to taste the other man. Victor opened to him, deepening the kiss even as he licked at Chris mouth. They tried to move closer; the centre console blocked them. Chris moaned as the kiss turned open mouthed and hungry.

A car horn honking in the night startled them apart. Chris licked his lips, laughing. "We're like a couple teenagers," he said.

"I doubt teenagers would've let a car horn stop them," Victor replied. He looked at his watch. "I should head up—it's getting late and we both gotta work tomorrow."

"Yeah. Do you want to maybe go out next Friday or Saturday?"

"Sure, sounds good," Victor said, opening the car door.

"Okay, I'll text you tomorrow, hopefully get a chance to call you."

"Okay. Good night," Victor said and he got out of the car.

"Good night," Chris said. He watched until Victor was inside his building. Chris headed for home. Tonight had gone really well and it seemed Victor had thought so, too—at least, he'd agreed to go out with Chris again. Chris felt a warmth when he thought about Victor, something he'd not felt for anyone since Savannah had died and he was glad. He'd always love and miss Savannah, but he knew he needed to move on. He'd just never thought it would be with another man....and that worried him only because he didn't know how his coworkers and friends might react. One part of him felt they'd support him, be okay with his being with a man. Another part of him worried that they'd turn their backs on him. Chris pushed the thoughts away; hopefully he wouldn't have to deal with that any time soon.

****

A month later and Chris had been able to get a few days off from work—absolutely no chance that he'd be called in. Victor had also managed to get two days off. They were going to do a few day trips, with Chris showing Victor some of his favourite places in and around New Orleans.

The first night though, Victor invited Chris to his place; he wanted to show off his cooking skills and had made supper for Chris.

Chris finished the last of his meal. "You cook almost as good as King," he said, pushing his empty plate away from him. "Between the two of you I'm gonna turn into a big old beached whale."

Victor smiled at the compliment. He knew just how good Dwayne Pride could cook and that Chris wouldn't throw words like that around lightly. "Thank you. Don't forget, I've made dessert."

"Oh, god, what did you make this time? I'm gonna have to start running 40 miles a day if you keep feeding me like this!"

Victor laughed. "I promise, I won't make too many desserts. I made what is one of the most popular desserts from Honduras, it's Pastel de Tres Leches."

"What is it? Three...milk cake?"

"Yes, it's a vanilla cake made with three kinds of milk. Sounds plain but is quite good—and sweet, so you should love it," Victor said.

"You are trying to kill me, aren't you?" Chris smiled. He got up and helped clear the small table of the dirty dishes. He followed Victor into the kitchen and set the dishes in the sink, while Victor cut them each a piece of cake. He handed a plate to Chris.

Chris took a bite and closed his eyes, a small moan escaping him. "This is really, really sweet but sooo good."

Victor smiled at the compliment and at how fast Chris had finished the treat. Victor finished his own up, savouring the dessert. Once finished, he took both his and Chris' plates and put them in the sink. "Why don't you go put the movie on, I'll get these put into the dishwasher."

"Nah, my momma taught me better than that. I'll help you load the dishes," Chris replied.

"But you're my guest."

"Yes, and a good guest helps out."

"But you cleared the table—"

"Victor, let me help you with this, okay?" Chris said, grabbing some dishes and putting them on the rack.

"I guess I don't have much choice, do I?"

Chris smirked. "Nope, none at all."

Victor laughed and the two made quick work of the dishes in the sink. "Do you want a beer?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah, that'd be good." He watched the other man grab the beer out of the fridge. Victor handed one to Chris and leaned against the counter to open his own.

"Hey, you've got some crumbs..." Chris trailed off.

"Where?" Victor asked, reaching up to rub his hand over his face.

"You missed it." Chris reached up and brushed the back of his fingers over Victor's cheek, dislodging the crumbs. He didn't drop his hand. Instead, he straightened his fingers out, now cupping the side of Victor's face.

Victor's lips parted, a breathy gasp the only sound he made.

Chris couldn't tear his gaze from Victor's. He wanted..., "Oh, god, Victor, I want to..."

"What?" Victor's voice cracked; he didn't break eye contact.

"I wanna kiss you," Chris managed.

"Yes, please, yes."

Chris slid his hand to cup the back of Victor's head, fingers threading through the short, silky strands; his other hand moved to Victor's waist. Chris tilted his head and leaned forward; Victor moved to meet him, sliding his arms around Chris' waist. The kiss was hungry, sloppy, noisy.

Chris pushed Victor back against the counter, while Victor slid one hand under Chris shirt, the other slid under the back of Chris' jeans, fingers grasping at the warm skin there.

Victor opened his legs, pulling Chris closer; Chris could feel Victor's cock pressing against his own and he got harder. He drew his mouth from Victor's, his teeth pulling at his bottom lip. Chris kissed and licked a trail across Victor's jaw to his neck, sucking and kissing the soft skin of his neck.

Victor moaned and the sound went right to Chris cock; he pushed forward, rubbing his cock against Victor's cock, groaning. Victor's fingers were grasping tight. "Bedroom," Victor whispered.

It took Chris a second to process what Victor had said. Once he had, he pulled back to look at him. He smiled. "Sounds like a good idea."

"You'll need to move," Victor said. "Bed's more comfortable than the kitchen."

"Mmm. I suppose, but I like where I am right now," Chris said with a mock pout.

Victor gave him a smoky gaze and lopsided grin. "Imagine how much nicer it'll be to be skin on skin." He slid his hand further down the back of Chris' pants, finger sliding into the crack at the top of Chris' ass.

Chris stepped back and let Victor take his hand to lead him to the bedroom. Halfway there, Chris stopped, turned Victor around and kissed him again. They continued down the hallway at a slightly slower pace, managing to keep kissing as they walked, bodies pressed close, hands roaming, finding spots ticklish and sensu

By the time they got to the bedroom, they'd managed to remove their shirts and the zippers and buttons on their jeans were open. Chris kept his mouth on Victor's, kissing him even as he walked him backwards, til Victor's legs hit the edge of the bed. Chris pushed him gently and Victor fell back on the bed.

Victor leaned up on his elbows, dark eyes heavy lidded as he watched Chris push his pants and boxers out, his erect cock bobbing while he stepped out of his clothes. Victor sat up and leaned forward, taking the base of Chris' cock in his hand while he slid his mouth over the end, tongue flicking against the head.

Chris closed his eyes, as good as this felt, he had other plans. He slid his hands through Victor's hair, gently stopping him.

Victor looked up at him."Isn't that the point?"

"But I wanna come inside you," Chris whispered.

"I'd like that," Victor said, smiling.

"Be easier if you were naked," Chris said. He reached down and pulled on Victor's jeans and briefs. "Lift up."

Once he was undressed, Victor moved so he was lying on the bed, head on the pillows. "Lube and condoms are in the drawer." He spread his legs, cupping his balls in one hand, slowing stroking his cock with the other.

"Have I told you how fucking hot you are? Cus you are," Chris said. He climbed onto the bed, stretching over to grab the supplies out of the drawer, dropping them on the bed beside Victor. Shifting, he started kissing Victor, short quick kisses at first, then open mouthed, tongue sliding kisses followed.

Victor moved his hands, sliding them slowly down Chris' back, fingernails lightly scratching his skin. He caressed and cupped Chris' ass, pulling him closer.

Chris groaned closing his eyes; it was almost too much, he wasn't sure he last much longer at this rate. He slowly sat back on his heels, letting his fingers trail over Victor's chest, pinching his nipples, savouring the gasping moan it elicited from his lover. He stroked down Victor's thighs and up again, finally taking his cock into his hand.

Victor arched, groaning Chris' name. "Please, Chris, please...." he trailed off, gasping.

"Please what?" Chris asked, running his thumb across the head of Victor's cock.

"Fuck me, make me come, come inside me, please. Oh, god, feels so good."

Chris let go of Victor's cock and reached over to pick up the condom; he opened the packet and put it on. Using the lube, he prepared Victor, finger fucking him. "Is that good, babe?"

Victor bit his lip and nodded. "God, yes, do it, fuck me, please, fuck me."

Chris slowly guided his cock into Victor's hole. He closed his eyes, groaning, loving the feel of the tight heat surrounding him. He paused once he was all the way in, opening his eyes to gaze at Victor, who was staring back. "You feel so good."

"So do you," Victor said. He wrapped his legs around Chris hips, urging him on.

Chris reached down and took Victor's cock back into his hand, moving it up and down in time to his thrusts. Chris could feel himself getting closer and closer....

Victor's hands were gripping the bed sheets, his head turning from side to side as he moaned. "Oh, oh, God, yes, Chris, I'm gonna—oh, fuck."

Chris stroked Victor faster and a bit harder. "Do, it come for me."

With a shout, Victor came, spurting over Chris' hand and his own stomach.

The site of Victor coming and as if on his command was enough to send Chris over his own edge. He pushed into his lover a couple more times, groaning, as he came. "Oh, god, Victor " he cried out. He paused for a moment before slipping out of his lover and collapsing next to Victor on the bed. He removed the condom and dropped it in the trash.

Victor kissed him gently, cupping his face. "That was so good."

"Mm, yes it was," Chris replied, kissing him back.

The two of them laid there for a few minutes catching their breaths. Victor rolled out bed. "Where you going?"

"Washcloth. I don't like being sticky." He was back in a couple minutes with the cloth and cleaned Chris off, already having cleaned himself. He threw the washcloth on the floor.

Victor pulled the blanket up from the foot of the bed and curled up to Chris, nuzzling his face against Chris neck.

Chris wrapped his arms around Victor, he was sleepy but wasn't sure if the other man wanted him to stay.

"If you wanna stay the night, that's cool," Victor said. "I'd like it if you did."

Smiling lazily, Chris said, "I'd love to, thank you." The last thing he remembered doing was pressing a kiss against Victor's forehead.

****

The next few weeks seemed to go well. Chris and Victor managed to work around Chris' schedule and spent as much time together as they could. One thing Chris hadn't done was tell anyone at work he was seeing someone, especially a man. It wasn't that he thought they'd have a problem with it, he just figured he should have a private life of some sort.

Tonight, Victor had come to Chris' place for takeout and to watch a basketball game; Chris was hoping there might some sex in there, too. Sex with Victor was more than kind of awesome.

"Another good game," Chris said, shutting off the TV. He and Victor had spent a lazy Sunday afternoon watching a football game, cuddled up together on Chris' couch.

"Yes, it was," Victor replied. He pressed a kiss to Chris' cheek and sat up. "Chris, I need to talk to you about something," he said.

Chris frowned; Victor had seemed a bit distracted this afternoon. Chris' first thought was that Victor wanted to break up with him. They'd only been together for three months but Chris still knew he loved Victor.

Chris sat up and swallowed. "Sounds serious."

Victor nodded. "Yeah, it kinda is," he said. "We've been seeing each other for three months now. You haven't introduced me to any of your family or your friends. I only know a couple of your coworkers because I met them as part of Mateo's case. I've been out to my family and friends for years now."

Chris stood up, paced beside the coffee table, turned and looked at the other man. "Victor, please, don't—"

"I'm not giving you an ultimatum, Chris. But I also am not going to go back in the closet. I won't live there. I can't live there. I love you, but I'm not going to be your dirty little secret, someone that you hide from all the important people in your life. I'm worth more than that," Victor said. "YOU are worth more than that."

Chris stood frozen. He couldn't do or say anything right now. He didn't want Victor to leave him, but keeping Victor meant tipping the rest of his life upside down. Finally, he managed, "Victor, I don't...want. I don't want to lose you. But I...." he trailed off. He couldn't look at his lover right now. He covered his face with both hands.

Victor moved to stand in front of Chris. He gently pulled Chris hands away from his face. "Look at me," he whispered.

Chris did look and saw nothing but kindness on Victor's face.

"I know it won't be easy for you, I've been there, which is why I don't want to go back. I'm also not saying you have to do this overnight—which wouldn't work well anyways. I just need to know that you're willing to do this—and it's not just for me, but for you. If you're willing, I'll be by your side the whole way. Because I love you, Christopher," Victor said. He leaned in and pressed a kiss against Chris' lips.

Chris wrapped his arms around Victor, holding onto him, kissing him back. He didn't want to let Victor go, but what he was asking him to do scared Chris to death. When they broke the kiss, Chris started to speak, but Victor pressed a finger against his lips.

"Shh. Don't say anything right now. I know you're upset, I can see that. You need to take some time and think about it okay?"

Chris nodded.

"Okay. I'm gonna go home now. Call me when you're ready, I'll be waiting." And with that Victor left Chris' apartment.

Chris slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor; he wrapped his arms around his knees, dropping his forehead against his legs and he cried. It wasn't loud, sobbing cries, just a quiet, desperate thing. It didn't last long, it never did with him.

After a few minutes, Chris leaned back against the wall. His head felt like a warzone—one side screaming at him that Victor was right, coming out was what he needed to do, while the other shouted that it was the absolute worst thing to do. Bad things happened to you if you were queer, you'd die if you were queer. Chris grabbed his head, wanting everything to be quiet, just to be quiet.

He briefly considered getting pass out drunk, but knew that would only postpone his problem not solve it. Chris figured he needed to talk to someone but wasn't sure who. Merri and Percy were out, not that he figured they'd react badly he just knew they weren't it. Normally, he'd talk to Pride about it but again it didn't feel right.

Miss Loretta. She'd be sympathetic but give him a kick in the ass if he needed it. Chris checked the time, it was just past seven. He knew he should call but he didn't. If she wasn't home, well, he'd cross that bridge if he came to it.

****

Chris stood in front of Loretta's door, trying to decide if he should knock or just forget this whole idea and walk away. He'd just decided this was the dumbest of ideas and was about to turn around when her door swung open.

Loretta leant against the door frame, wry smile on her face. "Why don't you come in Christopher? If you stand out here any longer, my neighbours are likely to call the police."

Chris walked inside; Loretta closed the door. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I needed to talk to someone."

With that, Loretta looked more closely at Chris. She frowned. "You're coming to me and not Dwayne? You're not sick are you?"

Chris chuckled. "No, no, I'm physically fine...I just don't think I can talk to King about this."

Loretta smiled. "I'm glad you're physically well. Come on, let's go sit down. Do you want anything to drink?" she asked, leading him into her sitting room.

"No, I'm fine for now."

Loretta sat down on the couch, patting the seat beside her. "Have a seat and tell me what's wrong, Christopher."

Chris rubbed a hand down his face. "I dunno where to start...."

"The beginning is usually a good spot."

"That might take a bit too long."

Loretta smiled, "Then the beginning of what's bothering you?"

Chris took a deep breath and exhaled. "I met someone a few months ago. It was on a case—they're a family member not a suspect. We started seeing each other and it's thrown me for a complete loop."

"Thrown you for a loop, how so?"

"By falling in love with him." Chris stared at the floor as he spoke, he didn't want to see the revulsion or disappointment in Loretta's eyes.

Loretta placed a hand on Chris arm. "Christopher, look at me, please," she said softly.

It took him a minute, but Chris finally turned his head, raised his eyes, steeling himself against what he might see. He breathed in sharp, hard breath; all he saw on Loretta's face was love and acceptance.

Loretta slid an arm around his shoulders, tugging him close. "There is very little that you could tell me, Christopher LaSalle that would change how I feel about you."

Chris couldn't speak, he was overwhelmed with relief. If Loretta could accept him, maybe King would too. "Thank you. I just don't tell people about this part of me, so it's hard for me."

"Understandable. Though I have to ask—and you don't have to answer if you don't want to—but do you consider yourself gay? I know you loved Savannah...." Loretta trailed off.

Chris sat up and took hold of Loretta's hand. "Nah, never been gay. I'm bisexual since I like women and men." He shrugged. "It's just always been easier to stick to dating women. Less questions."

"You know, society's changed a lot the last few years," Loretta said.

"Society sure. Family? Not so much."

"Ah, your parents aren't quite with the times?"

"Not completely, but they don't understand it; mom's better than my dad." Chris paused for a moment. "It was my granddaddy—my dad's dad. He was a Bible thumpin' Baptist. Anyone that wasn't white, straight and Baptist was goin' to hell. He caught me and my boyfriend making out. Chased David away and beat me. Luckily, my parents got home before he did too much damage."

"What did your parents do?"

"Oh, my mom was livid. Granddaddy's lucky she didn't have a gun on her when she caught him hitting me; he wouldn't've lived to 85 if she had. She got me away from him and yelled at my Daddy to do something about his "no good bastard father". And that's a direct quote.

"Once they found out what happened, well Daddy wasn't happy about it, but Mama accepted me. She always did," Chris said. "And my siblings never found out, at least not til I told them and they're fine with it."

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that. It obviously, and not surprisingly, made a huge impression on you." She hugged him again. They sat quietly together for a few minutes. "Now, how about you tell me what's going on with you and your boyfriend?"

"You've actually met him, you know. I mean it was briefly."

"Really? Who is it?"

"Victor Ortega, his brother Mateo—"

"Was killed by Randy Wilson, that ICE agent. And Dwayne helped bring their sister Claudia over from Honduras. Yes, I do remember him. He seemed like a very nice young man."

"Yeah, that's him. We started going out a few weeks after Mateo's funeral. Victor is out to his family and everyone. I, as you know? Am not. He's told me, and I know he's right, that he doesn't want to go back into the closet, doesn't want to feel like he's a dirty secret," Chris said. "I know he's right, and I don't want him to do that or be that, but it's just..."

"Just what?"

"I'm scared. I know it's not really rational, but I'm scared that if I tell y'all, it'll be like my granddaddy all over again. The small rational part of my brain keeps trying to tell me that none of you have ever given any indication you'll react like that," Chris sighed. "I dunno what to do."

"Oh, but I think you do, Christopher. Victor's not asking you to hold a dinner party and announce that you're bisexual is he?"

"God, no. He says he'll stay if I just promise to come out, even if it takes me a little while."

"And you obviously love him. Besides, if you weren't ready to tell anyone, you wouldn't've come to me," Loretta said. She squeezed his shoulder. "And I'm pretty sure you know that, like me, there's very little you could tell Dwayne that would change how he feels about you. Everyone will be surprised and they'll need a little time to adjust, but they'll still be your friends because you are still you."

Chris shoulders dropped in relief. "Thanks, Loretta. I don't know why I get so twisted up in my mind with all this. I know none of you'd turn me away...."

"Given what you went through, with your family, I think it would be more surprising if you didn't have issues." Loretta said.

"I guess," Chris said, leaning back against the couch. He felt tired but he also felt relieved.

"You okay?"

He nodded. "Never really believed it, people saying they felt lighter after confessing something. But I kinda do. Tired, but good," Chris said with a smile. "Thank you, Loretta."

"You're welcome. I don't know about you, but I sure could use a drink," she said, standing.

****

Two days later, late on a Sunday afternoon, Chris wandered into Pride's bar. It was closed and would open in a couple hours; the only one around was Pride, who was sitting picking out a tune on his piano.

"Christopher," Pride said, looking over his shoulder upon hearing the door open.

"King," Chris replied. He sat at a table close to the piano, behind Pride. He let the music flow over him and didn't interrupt.

Pride finished the piece with a flourish; he turned around to look at Chris. "What's up?"

Chris looked at Pride, then down at his hands on the table. "There's something I need to tell you."

Pride raised an eyebrow. "Sounds serious." He moved from the piano stool to the chair catty corner to Chris'.

"I don't know that it's serious, maybe important'd be better." Chris looked at Pride; he wished this could be easier, but it wasn't. "It's...I'm...I'm seeing someone. And they're...I'm dating a guy."

Pride was quiet for a split second, processing what he'd heard. "I only need to know one thing: does he make you happy?"

Chris let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "Yeah, yeah, he does."

Pride smiled. "Good, you deserve to be happy," he said. "When do I get to meet him? Soon, I hope."

"Well, you've already met him. On a case."

"I have? Who is it?"

"Victor Ortega."

"I remember the case," Pride said. Not that he could forget—a man he'd called a friend had murdered two people, including Victor's brother. "He seems like a nice young man. Rather quiet."

"He spoke up when it mattered, King, c'mon," Chris said.

Pride chuckled. "I know, just teasin' you a bit." He touched Chris arm. "I'd like to invite the two of you to my place for a nice dinner sometime this week. Check with him and let me know, okay?"

"Thanks, King."

"You're welcome," Pride replied. "You know, if you really wanted to show your appreciation, I've got some chairs I need help sanding and varnishing...."

Chris chuckled. "I guess I could find a bit of time to help you."

****

Chris had spent a couple hours helping King with his chairs and the older man had also seen fit to make him some supper, so all in all, Chris counted it as a win.

He'd texted Victor earlier, arranging to meet at Victor's place. He texted him again to let him know he was on his way.

Twenty minutes later, Chris was ringing the doorbell to Victor's apartment. Victor opened the door a few seconds later; a huge smile breaking across his face when he saw Chris.

"Hey, come on in," Victor said, moving to the side to let Chris pass him.

"Hi. Thanks," Chris said. He walked inside, stopping at the feel of Victor's hand on his arm.

"I missed you. I mean, I know it was only a few days...." Victor trailed off, but held Chris' gaze.

Chris grinned. "Yeah, I missed you too," he whispered, stepping closer to Victor.

They stood there, staring at each other, until Victor reached out and pulled Chris into his arms. Chris returned the embrace, closing his eyes and savouring being back in his lover's arms. "Missed you so much," he whispered against Victor's ear.

Victor pressed a trail of kisses along Chris' neck, along his jaw, finally claiming his mouth in a comforting kiss.

They stepped back after a moment or two, still holding onto one another. Victor spoke first. "I'm assuming this means we're staying together?"

Chris huffed a laugh. "It'd better or I'm a real bastard," he said. "Let's go sit and talk."

"Okay, you know where the living room is. You want a beer?" Victor asked.

"Sure."

The two men settled on the couch, sitting next to each other. Chris reached over and took Victor's hand, holding it. "So, I told Loretta and I told King about us, about you."

"And?"

"And, the world didn't end, they're fine with it. And if they're okay with it, the others at work will be too," Chris said.

Victor squeezed Chris' hand. "I'm glad it worked out. I know how hard it can be to tell people."

"Course, now King wants to meet you—well, meet you again, I guess. He's invited us over for supper one night."

"He's gotta make sure I'm good enough for you?" Victor teased.

"Nah, I already told him you're too good for me."

"You are such a sap."

"You're worse."

Victor grinned. "Yeah, I won't argue that with you."

Chris gazed at his lover fondly and brought their joined hands up, kissing Victor's. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Victor said. "Want to watch TV, something off Netflix maybe?"

"Sounds perfect," Chris replied, shifting to cuddle close to his boyfriend as Victor wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

***

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