Daniel focused hard on the notes in front of him; he couldn't let Ethan see how shaken up he really was. He'd known the other man had racked up a record, but he hadn't actually seen him since they had parted ways in college. He looked much the same, still the same blond hair and green eyes, but a little… rougher. He was clean-shaven, more so than Daniel himself, but his hair had gotten longer, hanging in shaggy waves around his ears. His jaw was more angular, his cheekbones more prominent. He wasn't overly skinny, but he'd lost that "Freshman Fifteen" they'd all packed on back at school.

He was somehow even more attractive than he'd been ten years ago, and Daniel hated himself for even thinking it.

It didn't matter, anyway. Their lives had taken vastly different paths, as evidenced by their positions now.

"We are investigating a string of robberies in and around the Lofty Heights neighborhood," Daniel said. "One occurred last night, and you were seen running from the area of the crime about the same time. Several people reported it, and you were picked up as a result. Obviously, with your record, it was worth following up on," he added. He looked up to see Ethan scowling darkly at him.

"So because I was late to work and had to run, I'm guilty of breaking an entering?" he said. "Sounds like a crack team of officers you have there. Some real good detective work going on." Daniel ignored the barb. He wasn't going to get dragged into sniping with Ethan.

"Can your employer provide records to affirm what you've said?" he asked. He kept his tone impersonal and didn't look up from his notepad.

"Yes," Ethan replied in clipped tones. "Even an idiot like me knows not to lie about work hours, I know how easily they're verified."

"You're not an idiot," Daniel replied without thinking. He cringed inwardly, knowing that was a mistake. "You may act like one pretty often, but you're not as dumb as you like to pretend." Ethan had been a star athlete in college, and had been on track to a promising career in tech, though the possibility of a professional football team snatching him up first had also seemed like a distinct possibility. Daniel wasn't sure where it had went wrong -- they'd broken up, and while Daniel had dealt with the pain by retreating into his studies, Ethan had somehow spiralled out of control. The man in front of him wasn't the man college-Ethan had had the potential to become.

"Don't pretend to know anything about what I am," Ethan sneered. "You don't know shit about me. You never did." It hurt more than Daniel wanted to admit, but he was careful to not let it show on his face.

"You're right," he said impassively. "I don't know much about you. So, I'll be checking with your employer to check your alibi before we're able to release you."

"Of course you will," Ethan said. "Gotta follow protocol. Can't have you thinking for yourself, anything but that."

"Protocol exists for a reason," Daniel said, gathering his notes as he stood, the sound of his chair scraping against the floor loud in the small room. "Just like laws. Which I hope, for your sake, you're on the right side of this time around."

He turned to leave, but was halted by Ethan calling out.

"Hey."

Daniel paused and bit back a sigh before turning around.

"Yes?"

Ethan held up his arms. "If I'm going to have to wait, can I at least get these bracelets off?"

Daniel hesitated and almost said no, but he knew they could be uncomfortable, and there was really no reason to leave them on -- the room was fully secure.

Daniel dug in his pocket for the small set of keys he always kept with him and walked around the table. He bent over Ethan's form, trying to ignore how close he was. It was hard, to say the least. He felt Ethan's breath on his neck, was close enough to feel the warmth of his body.

He briefly wondered if what was under Ethan's clothes had changed as much as the rest of him had, but forcefully pushed the thought out of his head as he turned the handcuffs, looking for the keyhole. His fingers brushed lightly over the skin of Ethan's wrists, and he swallowed hard.

"You, me, handcuffs -- brings back some memories, huh?" Ethan said quietly, his breath moving ever so lightly over Daniel's ear as the key clicked. Daniel sucked in a breath and stood up quickly, tucking the handcuffs in his pocket.

"Someone will be in soon to take you to a holding cell," he said stiffly before exiting the room quickly, without looking back.

As Daniel closed the door behind him, he noted with no small amount of relief that Garrett was the only one watching through the one-way mirror. His partner raised an eyebrow at him, asking without words.

"Don't ask," Daniel sighed. Garrett snorted.

"Fat chance," he said. "What was all that about? Who is that guy?"

"An ex of mine from college," Daniel replied shortly. "Haven't seen the guy in ten years. It was just a shock, that’s all." Garrett hummed thoughtfully but didn't reply. "Really, it's no big deal," Daniel said dismissively. "I'm going to go check his alibi. Pretty sure it's good, but protocols exist for a reason."

"Yeah, yeah," Garrett waved him on. "Have fun. I'll go ahead and start his outprocessing."

Ethan felt some of the tension bleed out of his shoulders, and he had a feeling it had more to do with Danny leaving the room than it did at the handcuffs being off. That part was nice, though, he thought as he rubbed his sore wrists. He'd probably have some bruises forming there in the next few hours.

Seeing Danny again had been a shock, to say the least. Their relationship in college had been… intense. They'd been together for about a year, leaning on each other during those stressful, fun, exhilarating college experiences that always seemed so dramatic at the time, but so small in retrospect. For a while, he'd thought Danny was going to be the one he ended up with forever, but it hadn't worked out that way. Looking at how Daniel had turned out, it seemed like that was for the best.

It wasn't like Ethan didn't understand the role of police in society. He knew they were a necessity, but most of the time they were more like a necessary evil. Ethan knew what real crime was in this city, and he knew where the police focused their attention. Those paths didn't cross often.

That Daniel had joined their ranks shouldn't be a surprise. He'd always been a little too good, a little too clean. He saw the world in black and white, never willing to even consider the gray spaces in between.

A police officer came in a few minutes later to lead Ethan to a holding cell. Ethan cooperated, but not without a few snide remarks. As tired as he was, he had a reputation to maintain.

Once he was safely locked in a holding cell and had his hands free, Ethan was able to take stock of his injuries. He'd scuffed his knees up good when he went down. The fabric over his right knee had ripped and though the bleeding had stopped, the fabric that had soaked up the blood now stuck to the wound. His arms were bruised, and his wrists were rubbed a bit raw from where the handcuffs had been tightened too much.

Mostly, he was still just really, really tired.

There was no clock in sight of the holding cell and the officers had taken his phone, so he had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but it felt like hours before Daniel reappeared, a folder in hand.

"You alibis check out," he announced, as if Ethan should be grateful for the news. "We're letting you go for now." He opened the cell, stepping aside as Ethan rose from the bench.

"For now?" Ethan repeated incredulously. "You have nothing on me besides the fact that I happened to be running near the scene of the crime. You guys must be grasping at straws on this one." Daniel's nostrils flared, he noted -- something he'd always done when frustrated. He must have hit that nail on the head.

"There's also your record to consider," Daniel replied coolly. "This wouldn't have been your first B&E. Maybe you just got better at it." Ethan snorted.

"That's a real reach. You cops are good at that, though. Why bother looking for the real culprits, as long as there's a conviction to print in the papers?" Daniel flushed, but got himself under control before he responded. More's the pity, Ethan thought.

"You also have a history with some… notorious criminals in town," Daniel said, looking down into the folder he held. "Jack Ellon, Steve Gold, Michael Warren, just to name a few. Have you heard anything about who might be behind these B&E's?"

"I told you," Ethan replied slowly. "I don't run with that crowd anymore. I don't know anything." Daniel stared at him for a long moment, his bright blue gaze as intense as it ever was.

"Alright," he finally said. "If you hear anything though…" He handed over a crisp white card, his name, rank, and number on it in a bold black font. Ethan read over it and gave a low whistle.

"Detective, is it? I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You never were one to do anything by halves." He shifted uncomfortably, his bloodied jeans sticking to his scraped knees. Daniel caught the motion, and his eyes flickered down to Ethan's legs.

"What happened there?" he asked, his tone sharp. "Did they put you in a holding cell with someone else?" Ethan scoffed.

"No, they made sure I was alone. This was from the arrest this morning." His eyes narrowed. "Odd, really, cops are usually so gentle," he added sarcastically. Daniel pressed his lips together in a thin line, but didn't comment on the jab.

"Make sure you clean those well," he said, his tone a little less abrasive. Ethan frowned -- it was easier to deal with Daniel when he was being an asshole.

Daniel led the way to the front desk, where the officer on duty signed a plastic baggie of Ethan's belongings out to him. As Ethan turned to leave, Daniel reached out and caught his arm. Ethan paused, looking back at him expectantly.

"Be careful out there," Daniel said after a brief pause. "If you're really trying to turn yourself around… well, just watch yourself." The warning might have been meant well, and he might have even had a point, but after the day he'd had so far, Ethan had no patience for it. He jerked his arm out of Daniel's grasp.

"Will do," he said, a false cheeriness in his voice. "After all, wouldn't want to have to deal with your bullies in blue again."

Because the station was farther away from his apartment than work was and he didn't want to drop the money on an Uber, it took Ethan over an hour to walk home. By the time he got there, he only had two and a half hours before he had to leave for work again. Weary to his bones, he stripped off his clothes, set an alarm on his phone, and flopped onto the couch, dropping immediately into unconsciousness.

When Ethan woke up a couple hours later, he almost felt more tired than when he'd gone to sleep. He rolled off of the couch with a groan, and rinsed himself off in the shower before tugging on a (mostly) clean shirt and heading out the door.

Marco, the store's owner, was the one manning the front counter when Ethan came in the door. He shot Ethan a sidelong glance as he clocked in.

"I got a call from the cops this morning," he said, his tone overly casual. "That something I'm going to have to worry about?" Ethan shook his head emphatically.

"No. It was a mistake on their part," he said firmly. Marco nodded slowly.

"If you say so." He paused, looking Ethan over. "You look like shit," he said bluntly. "You're not going to fall asleep on me tonight, are you?"

"No, I'm good," Ethan assured him. He'd have dearly loved to call in sick tonight, but he needed the money, scant as it was; rent was due soon, and the cell phone company had already threatened once to cut his service off if he didn't pay his past due balance.

Marco took him at his word, leaving the store in his hands just an hour later. Ethan blinked blearily at the clock and settled in for a long night.

Around 4 a.m., about the time Ethan was starting to clean the front end of the store just to stay awake, the door chime rang out, its shrill, mechanical tone echoing through the empty store. Ethan straightened, looking up to see who had entered, and stiffened when he saw the tall thin black-haired man stepping up to the counter.

"Steve," he said, trying to keep his tone casual. "Surprised to see you in this part of town. Buying some smokes?" Steve smirked, the motion pulling at his immaculately-groomed goatee.

"Nah, your offerings aren't quite… up to my standards," he said, his voice low and smooth. Ethan shifted uncomfortably behind the counter, the phrase triggering a memory.

"It's been fun," Steve said, pulling in a long drag off the cigarette he held as he lounged in bed beside Ethan. "But you're not really up to my standards."

The blow of that breakup had been more from hurt pride than any real attachment to the man he'd been sleeping with, but it still stung, and he knew Steve well enough to know the jibe had been on purpose.

"What are you doing here, Steve?" he asked, resigned. Whatever the other man wanted, he didn't want any part in it.

"I hear you spent some time downtown this morning," Steve said, leaning against the counter. "Meeting friends?" Ethan scowled, tossing his cleaning rag aside.

"You know damn well I wasn't. I got arrested, I was innocent, they let me go. No big deal." Steve nodded, his eyes narrowing.

"No big deal," he echoed. "Right. Well, there are… let's say, certain interested parties who think it might be a big deal, considering what you know of our operations," he said, sneering the words.

"If Jack has a problem with me getting arrested, maybe he should be more concerned with the men he has doing the houses around here. 'Cause that is him, right?" Ethan said pointedly. Steve chuckled, low and dark.

"Oh, you really are out of the game, aren't you? Jack is gone. Left town a few months ago. Decided to take an… extended vacation," he said, smiling in a way that led Ethan to believe that vacation might be happening somewhere less tropical, more bottom of the harbor. "There's other players at work now. And they don't like one of our boys talking to cops."

"I'm not one of your boys," Ethan snapped. Just as he finished speaking, the bell over the door rang and a tired-looking nurse came in. Steve stepped away from the counter, pretending to be looking at the maps on a nearby rack as she came up to the counter, offering Ethan a wan smile as she paid for her gas and cigarettes. She was a regular, an older woman who stopped by pretty regularly after her shift. Normally she and Ethan might have exchanged a few jokes about the irony of a nurse who smokes, but the tension in the store tonight had her moving along quickly.

"Have a good night," he told her as he handed over her bag, forcing a smile. She thanked him, then turned to leave, barely giving Steve a glance on her way out. Before the door had even swung short behind her, Steve was smirking at him.

"Have a good night," he repeated, his tone a saccharine-sweet mockery. "This is you now, really?" he asked, leaning over the counter. "Working the night shift for a grimy gas station? You had real potential, you know."

"Yes," Ethan said shortly. "Had. Past-tense. I don't want anything to do with you or anyone else that worked for Jack." Steve shrugged.

"I don't see why, since obviously the cops are going to run you down regardless, just for running near the scene of the crime. Can't outrun your past, Ethan, it's always going to come for you in one form or another." Ethan clenched his jaw, looking away. "There's been quite a few changes in the group recently. A lot of new action that has the cops chasing their tails while we make bank. Someone like you could do well there." Steve's eyes flickered up to meet Ethan's. "Come back with me and let me show you around." His smile sharpened. "We could always have some fun first," he added, drawing his fingertips lightly up Ethan's arm. Ethan jerked back as if stung.

"I told you," he said, his voice calmer than he felt. "I'm done with crime. I don't want anything to do with any of you, but you most of all" he said firmly. Steve straightened, brushing invisible dirt off his clothes and not looking at all put out that his proposition had just been turned down.

"Do what you want," he said simply. "But be aware that if you keep talking to the cops, people are going to assume the worst. Right now, some still have hope we can bring you back in, but if you keep making dumb decisions, you might go on your own vacation." He added a jaunty wink, as if he hadn't just threatened murder, and strolled out the door.

Ethan watched him go, remaining upright and alert, until he saw the flashy red convertible pull out of the parking lot.

As soon as the car was out of sight, Ethan sagged as if his strings had been cut. The adrenaline that had been pumping through his body left him in a rush, leaving him barely able to hold himself upright. He was in trouble.