Lawson heard his name called. He rubbed his emerald green eyes, which ached from the strain of staring at his computer screen for eighteen hours straight. He looked over his shoulder to his friend, Gus, who was standing behind him with his arms crossed over his muscular chest.

While Lawson had lean muscles from working hard on his parent's ranch all his life, Gus had muscles from working out with weights, so his frame was much broader than Lawson's. It caused his friend to be much more intimidating. All six foot two of him was full muscle. Law had seen criminals literally shake in fear with one look from Gus. And the ladies shook for another reason entirely.

They were both about the same height, but Lawson was just a couple of inches shorter. And while Gus was dark with deep tanned skin and jet black hair, Lawson was light with golden hair and a light tan he earned spending most of his time working outside.

Gus' chocolate brown eyes looked at him in concern. Lawson hated when anyone worried about him. Especially from someone who knew him so well.

Law glared at his best friend. "What?" He hadn't had a break, he hadn't eaten, and damn it, he needed caffeine. He didn't need Gus berating him about something.

"Come on, call it a night, huh?"

"In a bit." Law sipped the cup of coffee that had been hot a couple of hours ago. He'd forgotten about it, and now it was stale and cold. He grimaced and set it back down.

Gus picked up a folder from Law's desk and opened it. "Anything I can do?" He whistled, "That's a lot of missing dough."

"Yup." Lawson got up from his desk and headed for the coffee pot in the corner of the office.

"Any suspects yet?"

"Not yet. Just got the case," Lawson answered, pouring coffee into a new Styrofoam cup. "Textbook on how they are doing it. Halves of pennies at a time. Seemingly unnoticeable," he said and took a sip of piping hot liquid. "Ugh, that's just as bad." Law made a disgusted face and set the cup back down. "Who the hell made this stuff?"

"Do you wanna go and get some real coffee? I skipped dinner; we could grab a bite while we're at it," Gus said, tossing the folder back on Lawson's desk.

"Yeah, sure. Why not," Lawson answered, picking up his jacket from the back of his chair. He shut the monitor screen off.

"You ever think of hitting the street again, man?" Gus asked, watching Lawson rub his eyes again.

"What, so I can get shot like you? End up like Dougie? That's an excellent idea," Lawson said sarcastically, pulling his jacket on.

"You know you love it," Gus said, shutting off the light to Lawson's office. "Despite all its risks."

"I love justice," he countered, "But, yeah, I guess I miss it. I don't know..." He shrugged as they walked out the main office doors and into the hallway leading to the elevators.

They stopped and Lawson entered a code onto the keypad on the wall beside the door. It would set the alarms into place, including infrared lasers and a retina scan only access to the office.

"This," Lawson gestured to the office, "suits me just fine for now. I needed a break from it and..."

He shook his head as images of his good friend and their squadmate, Doug, entered his mind. His death had been hard on all of them. But Lawson had been the only one who had resisted going back into the field.

"And, I never minded the computer stuff much. Computers I understand. People," he shook his head, "not so much anymore. You? You ready to go back. After being shot at...and watching..."

Lawson couldn't say it. He couldn't say Gus had watched their best friend die. In his arms. And there wasn't a damn thing he could have done about it. Despite Gus trying his damnedest.

Gus shook his head. Probably trying to get the same images out of his head that had been in Law's. "Yeah, I miss it too. That's why I asked to be put back in. I can't just sit around on my ass. You know that."

Lawson wasn't totally surprised by the revelation. Gus lived and breathed the job. He had been a Marine and Lawson sometimes wondered if Gus knew how to turn his thirst for action off. "Is your leg okay enough?"

"Yeah, it's doing good," Gus patted his thigh, "The doc gave me the go ahead."

"Really?"

"Besides, I don't want to get out of shape like you," Gus said, slapping him on the stomach.

"Last one to the elevator buys dinner."

"You're on."

******************************

It was a few weeks later when Gus brought the subject back up to him. Would he mind going back in the field?

If he was honest with himself, he was itching to go back. He liked working with computers, but he liked being out in the field more than being stuck in an office. He supposed it came from being born and raised on one of the largest ranches in Texas.

Lawson had been up with the cows since he was old enough to milk one. He roped cattle, sheared sheep, bred horses, plowed fields, and planted crops.

He had not gone to bed until his muscles were aching and all the animals had been fed and tended to in whatever capacity their job on the ranch was, whether it was giving milk, giving wool, or giving its life for the sake of its owners.

What happened to Doug, happened, Lawson understood that. Agents were killed all the time. Risks came with the job. And if your time was up, your time was up, but it absolutely killed him that Dougie was gone. He wouldn't hear Doug's corny jokes and contagious laughter when he laughed at his own jokes, more so, when they were just utterly lame.

Doug had been one of his best friends. He was as close as a brother. Even though Doug had moved to California to please his wife, so she could be near her family, Doug never let the distance affect their friendship. There were phone calls, text messages, Skype live feed video chats. It was like he'd never left.

Gus had moved to San Francisco with Doug. He had needed some space from Miranda, their other squadmate and friend, after their big breakup.

Lawson had been grateful that Gus and Doug were together so they could watch each other's backs. He had remained behind to pick up the pieces of Miranda's broken heart.

Not that Gus' wasn't equally broken. They had loved each other deeply, but they were too much alike. Both stubborn and wanting their own way with things.

Miranda didn't let Gus take care of her like most guys wanted to take care of their woman. Good guys, anyway. A guy like Gus wanted to protect his woman. But hell, Miranda could take care of herself, and she'd never let Gus forget it.

For a guy who had been a Marine, and had grown up with old fashioned values, it had been gut-wrenching for Gus to let Miranda step into the line of fire and not want to protect her at all costs. It started getting in the way of their jobs.

There were way too many arguments about what he or she should have done, instead of what they had done. Usually, it was Gus trying to protect Miranda from something or vice versa. Gus wouldn't put up with Miranda trying to protect him, and Miranda wouldn't put up with Gus protecting her.

With the Squad splitting up in different directions, Lawson was pulled three ways. Whether to go to California with Doug and Gus or stay in Northern Virginia with Miranda and Kyle. The other option was just moving back home to Texas and going back into practicing law like Lawson's dad wanted him to do. And lately, the last option wasn't sounding so bad.

Lawson ran a hand across his face. He just wasn't sure his heart was in being an FBI agent anymore. Not when the bad guys were winning.

Not when they killed great guys like Doug, and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing Law could have done, despite his nightmares, which always tormented him that if he'd move to San Francisco sooner that maybe, just maybe, he could have saved Doug.

Was he really doing any good by being an FBI agent? Lawson wondered, not for the first time, and probably not for the last if he should just go home.

He had been groomed to be a lawyer, not an FBI agent, as his father liked to remind him whenever they talked. Lawson should be fighting the bad guys in the courtroom, not in the field. But Law had been sick and tired of justice not always being found in the courtroom.

He talked a good talk and made excellent points, but the ultimate decision was never up to him if someone went to prison or not. Lawson had gotten tired of not being able to do something about anything himself. All he did was talk. He couldn't take any kind of action.

And then he'd been shot in front of the courthouse, and Lawson had been struck with the violent need to be the one who put handcuffs around the son-of-a-bitch that had shot him. So, he'd done something about it. With Doug's help.

Doug, who'd save his life that day, and then time and time again afterward. Doug, who Lawson had failed to protect because he had remained on the other side of the country instead of moving to California with him and Gus when Law should have gone with them.

But Law couldn't go home. Not yet. Not with Gus in San Francisco all on his own and still recovering from being shot.

Lawson had moved to California both to help out Doug's wife, Corrine and their boys, as well as to help out Gus as he recovered.

Gus was recovered, so Lawson agreed to go back into the field. He couldn't protect Doug, he had to live with that, but by God, he would protect Gus.

And it helped, it did, when he went to see Corinne and the boys. When Joey or Danny looked up at him with their big blue eyes, just like their father's, and busted a gut laughing over something...it slayed him, it was like a knife in his heart, but it helped ease the pain a bit. Because Doug lived on, in them.

He could see Doug in both of them, in small subtle ways, but they were there. Law clung to them, maybe a bit more than he should, but he'd stay until Corinne or the boys didn't want him around anymore. He doubted that they would ever ask him to not come around.

Lawson suspected that they got comfort from him also, being one of Doug's best friends and having a million stories to tell about him. It hurt him to talk about Doug, to watch his sons' eyes grow wide in admiration as Law talked of his bravery, his heroism, how Doug saved his life on more than one occasion.

Lawson would show them his scarred arm from the bullet that had missed his heart. It missed because their father had knocked him to the ground. Doug had spotted the shooter and had quickly acted.

The boys would run their tiny hands over the star-shaped scar almost worshiping it as it was a connection to their father. God, it killed him, but Lawson did it for them, and he did it for Doug.

And selfishly, he did it for himself. He wouldn't go to counseling as many of his friends and family suggested. He didn't need counseling. He needed his friend back.

"Earth to Lawson." Gus waved a folder in front of his eyes. Lawson blinked coming back from his thoughts. "You okay?"

Lawson swallowed and nodded.

"Dougie?"

"I'm fine."

Gus gave him a look that said he didn't believe him, but he let it drop since they'd had the same conversation a million times, and the last one had ended in shouting and slamming doors. He handed Lawson a folder, "We're on the same case, bud."

Law opened it, scanning the reports. He opened an envelope and looked through the pictures of suspects on his embezzling case.

"Here's who I want your eyes and ears on. See if you can get some information out of her. But discreetly. You know the drill," Gus said, pulling out a picture of a beautiful redhead.

Lawson whistled. "Wow. What is she? The girlfriend of the CEO or something?"

"Nope. She's one of the head accountants. She's got access to everything. Follow me?"

"You're telling me this pretty little thing is involved with this mess?"

"We don't think she knows it yet. That's Jade Morrow."

"Morrow," Lawson repeated. The name was too familiar. "All evidence points right to her," Lawson shook his head.

He looked at the girl's face. Law knew the look of a criminal. It was all in the eyes. And she wasn't one. "So, she's the scapegoat," he said conclusively.

"Yup, they sift the funds through her department, her bank account, then into the Cayman Island account."

"What makes you so sure that it's not her?" Lawson asked, looking at her picture again. Looks could be deceiving after all. Though he hoped she wasn't involved. She was too beautiful and innocent looking, it would be a shame for her to be marred by the ugliness of crime.

Without knowing her, he felt, somehow, that he did. Lawson thought that he was a pretty good judge of character. And he believed her to be a good person. Plus, he wanted to believe that she was as sweet as she looked.

"Are you kidding me?! She's so clean she squeaks. She'll talk."

"What makes you think she'll help us?"

"Because you're such a sweet guy," Gus said with a grin.

"Why can't you do it?" Lawson asked with a grumble at being called 'sweet' again. Only girls should be called sweet. It was Miranda's damn fault.

She constantly called Lawson a sweetheart. And he had to admit, he never minded it coming from her. The one female on their squad was another close friend. And he considered her to be like another sister. But damn, she was smoking hot. She could call him whatever the hell she wanted. Gus, on the other hand, could not. He studied the picture of the beautiful redhead and wondered if she tasted as sweet as she looked. She had full, plump lips that looked ripe for kissing.

"Something about her tells me she doesn't go for guys like me," Gus said, crossing his arms and leaned back in his chair, his gaze focused on Lawson.

Lawson looked up feeling the intensity of his gaze, "And she'll go for me?" he raised an eyebrow, hopefully not showing too much interest.

He had to admit, the prospect of meeting this beauty intrigued him. In too many ways that it shouldn't. She was part of a case after all. No matter how incredibly tempting she was, Law couldn't touch her. No matter how much he really wanted to.

Law could barely contain himself from touching the image of her on the paper for fear of being mocked by Gus. He'd been too closely watching Lawson studying the picture, and Law didn't like what was probably going on in Gus' head. He'd be right, of course, but Law didn't like his friend thinking it. Or thinking of her.

"I have an idea."

"What else is new?" Lawson said, putting his legs up lazily on the desk, showing off his well worn brown cowboy boots.

"That's just what I was thinking." Gus pointed to his boots.

"What?"

"All she's dated is top society. Doctors, lawyers, bankers. Don't you think she'd jump at the chance to date someone who...well, looked a bit less well off as her? Someone a bit rougher around the edges?"

Law frowned. "I'm still a lawyer, though not really a practicing one. I help out the family now and then and folk in town when I have time. I graduated from Harvard and made partner in a prestigious firm quickly thereafter. So don't see your point there, " Lawson glared at Gus.

He continued when Gus didn't reply. "I guess I get the 'rough around the edges' part. I get that I can do that well having worked the ranch and having had to deal with certain kinds of folk, but tell me now, how the hell am I not well off?" he asked incredulously.

"My accountant tells me that I'm worth a few billion, even if my boots don't look it." Lawson said, clicking his heels together with a grin, "I like 'em worn in... I do well for myself and my family with G&H Enterprises. We're going worldwide soon. You know that." He leaned back in his chair still waiting on Gus' response.

Gus laughed. He knew all that to be true, but it was amusing to hear Law admit any of it. He never admitted his wealth to anyone. It made him uncomfortable.

Lawson told him once that people thought he was special when they knew his family name. They treated him differently. Law had said, he wasn't anyone special; he was just a regular guy. He and his family worked hard for what they had. It wasn't just handed to them.

Most people thought Law came from a tiny little ranch that merely made ends meet. And Law let them believe it. At least until they discovered his last name.

Everyone in the world knew of the Greves and Haywood families. Lawson's parents, aunts, and uncles had built themselves a little empire. They'd started in the family business of ranching and expanded into bed and breakfasts, hotels, resorts, airlines, cruise-lines.

And now, Lawson and his cousins had, bit by bit, been expanding that empire. They were into real estate, architecture, marketing , advertising, publishing. There were doctors, lawyers, veterinarians, artists, writers, musicians, chefs, fashion designers. You name a business; someone in the family was in it.

All the members of the huge family, collaborated together to make their businesses stronger. They were all about family, and it was all about helping each other and providing for their descendants, though most people would argue it was purely about making more money. After all, the family was filthy rich already. Why would they need more?

Greed, that's why, was the answer. Those that said that, didn't know the family. But Gus did. It really was about helping each other out in whatever each person wanted to do with their life.

It had been Lawson's idea to merge all the businesses of all the people in his family into one huge enterprise and split the ownership equally among all its members. From the oldest to the youngest grandchildren in the cradle, they were all equal partners. If one family member faltered, the others stepped in and helped in every way they could. They were there for each other, as a family should do.

Most didn't, like Gus' family, but this family had each other's backs. It was an amazing thing to see. And to be a part of. Lawson had made Gus a part of that family. His family. And he was honored to know and be a friend to all of them.

Gus studied Lawson. He had always had his back. Like a brother. There was never a time when Gus couldn't count on him. If he said he needed help, Lawson was the first one in line, asking what he could do.

There were very few that knew that Lawson had a brilliant mind. He was a fun loving guy that everyone wanted as their friend. He made jokes and goofed around.

Law teased and flirted. He played the guitar and sang like a rock star. He was good looking and in great shape. Girls loved him, and guys admired him. He was a superb FBI agent and well respected.

He played the carefree, boy next door/cowboy well because he was really like that. He was honest.

He was well liked because he didn't think of himself in any of those ways. Lawson really thought that he was just an average guy. And he really was the nicest guy you'd ever meet.

Gus was grateful for his friendship. He wouldn't have gotten through his big breakup with Miranda, or Doug's death, without Law's friendship and support.

Most guys were there for each other just for watching sports on tv, poker night, and being each other's wingman to pick up the babes. But Law? He was a brother. More so, than the one that shared Gus' own blood.

Lawson's face grew serious as if reading Gus' thoughts. Gus grinned at him, remembering that they were supposed to be goofing around.

Gus chuckled when Law wiggled his eyebrows and clicked his boots again, like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. He wiggled his fingers at the side of his mouth as if he had an imaginary, fat cigar hanging in the crook of his grin just like Lawson's daddy would.

"Speaking of which," Gus teased, "how many times did you get kicked out of your mama's country club?"

Lawson grinned with a look that said "wouldn't you like to know" and put on his best southern accent. "Aw shucks, I know I ain't all debonair like you, Kyle, and like my mama'd like me to be, but..." Lawson pulled his feet down as the captain walked by.

Gus cleared his throat and got back to business, "Morrow will go for it. I'm telling you, she will."

He leaned forward as Lawson looked at him doubtfully. "Look, girls love you! Why else would Miranda have named you 'sweetheart'? Girls like men that they think they can take care of, yet depend on, and still have an intellectual conversation with."

"That right?" Lawson asked with an amused smile.

"Of course it is."

"You do realize what you just said?" he chuckled. "You're none of those things?"

Gus thought over what he said and scowled. He wouldn't let Lawson throw him off. "You're more approachable to women. You know that and I know that. They look at me and they see a soldier. And to some women, yeah, that's appealing to them. But Ms. Morrow can't suspect that I'm in any kind of law enforcement. You don't look like a cop. You look like a cowboy. And more importantly, someone she can trust."

Lawson sighed. He was resisting because he was so attracted to the woman in the picture. But Gus made some good arguments and he knew when he was beat. He shrugged like he didn't care one way or another. "Alright. What you want me to be?"

"You need to be somewhere where she goes often and would gain your confidence."

"Just spit it out for Christ's sake. I don't have all night."

"Who do people go to with their troubles?"

"A shrink?"

"Even better," Gus said, tossing him a file.

Lawson opened it, reading his assignment. "Bartender. Platinum Club. Downtown."

"Make mine a double, pal," Gus told him.