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Noah slams the door behind him when he gets home, and then flinches at the noise. He's still too jittery, too keyed-up. There's no amount of paperwork that could take the edge off after a day like this. He stomps into the living room, unbuckling his duty belt, and Basch looks up from the TV.
"Bad day?" he says, as Noah dumps his belt and gear on the armchair.
The adrenaline crash falls on him like a ton of bricks, and he collapses onto the couch, crawling half into Basch's lap and holding on tight. "It's good to be home," he says. "I'm glad you -- I'm glad we're friends."
"Something happened," Basch says. "Didn't it."
Noah nods, stays right where he is for a minute, breathing in the smell of sweat and sawdust on Basch's skin. "Got shot at for the first time today," he says.
"Jesus," Basch says, and pulls back to look him in the eyes. "Are you okay?"
It's childish, but for a second there Noah thinks, finally. At the station it was all business, even from Drace -- who at least looked like she wanted to make a scene, but was still too professional to do it. "Yeah, I'm okay. Had my vest on." He tugs his shirt untucked, pulls up the left side so Basch can see the brand-new bruise.
Basch's hand covers the mark, warm and careful. "God." He pulls Noah close with his other hand, holds on, kisses the side of Noah's neck. "You get him?"
"Course I got him," Noah says. He tries to smile. "Lucky for him, too. Bergan was the second guy on the scene, but the toad was already down and bleeding by then. If Bergan had gotten to take him into custody without the medic one guys around, we might have had a case of excessive force on our hands."
"He'd have deserved it," Basch mutters.
Noah raises an eyebrow. "This is my peace-loving brother talking? The one who'll forgive anything? The punk didn't even hurt me."
"He tried," Basch says. He leans closer, kisses Noah's throat just under the jaw. "Don't want anybody hurting my brother."
"You're too damn nice to me," Noah says. His lips brush the scar over Basch's left eye, the one that's his fault, the one Basch still won't let him apologize for. "Thanks."
Basch rubs his back, slow and warm. "You feel like talking about it?"
"It's not much of a story," Noah says. It feels good to be fussed over. "We got an emergency call from the 7-11 by the highway exit. I got there first. It was some crackhead from the city." Basch is working on his shirt buttons. Noah shrugs his shoulders, lets Basch pull his shirt off. "Waving a gun around. Yelling. Shot at me when I told him to drop it." It's a good thing Basch is so warm. Without the adrenaline keeping him going, Noah feels chilled. "I shot back as soon as I realized he wasn't just going to bluff. Hit him twice. He went down when he tried to run." There was a lot of blood, all over the floor. "Bergan showed up after that. The medics, too. Took the guy's gun, got him in the ambulance." The way Basch is touching him, it's like he's trying to make sure Noah's all in one piece. It's ridiculous and sort of sweet at the same time. "Then I went down to the station to do the paperwork for my vacation."
"Vacation?" Basch says. He raises an eyebrow. It makes him look like a puppy.
"Yeah." Noah reaches up and works his hand into Basch's hair, scratching behind his ears. "When you shoot somebody they have to investigate, even if you're a cop. So I'm going to be off duty for a while."
Basch turns his head, kisses the inside of Noah's wrist. After a minute he says, "You'll go stir crazy if you have to sit home the whole time."
"Probably." Noah tries a smile, and realizes it's not so hard. He curls his fingers tight, hangs on to his brother. "You got some ideas what I can do with myself?"
"Maybe." Basch shrugs. "The site I'm on should finish up this week, maybe next. If you want, we could go spend a little time up by the lake. See how it looks up there, try to find a spot we could build on."
"Yeah?" Some other day, Noah thinks, he might tease Basch about offering something he wants to do himself as entertainment for someone else. Not today, though. Today it sounds just fine. "If you got time, then. Yeah." He leans his head on Basch's shoulder, and it's not comfortable at all, but it feels good. "I think I'd like that."