Another hit

Kirk shook his head. "Not exactly. I'll be...around some still for the next two or three weeks, although all my current cases will be assigned to someone else." It really was all he could say at this point. 

He set a hand on her shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. "Don't worry. I won't just disappear overnight. I'll let you know when for sure I'll be leaving the department and... I may need to talk over a few things with you as well."

He glanced up at the late morning sky and sighed. "How about some coffee? My treat."


Hunter rolled over and blinked in the morning light. Something felt...off. He tried to get his  bearings. Why was he on the couch instead of in bed? He put a hand to his aching head. Oh yeah... he'd hit the bottle. Oh yeah...Katie had been here.

Katie. He sat up slowly and glanced around. He had no idea when she'd left. He'd been tipsy last night for sure, and now thoroughly regretted it. But he hadn't been drunk enough not to remember what had happened. And as the memories came back, so did the pain. 


Jason slid off the infirmary table and gingerly got dressed, but swatted away Rick's hand as he tried to help. "I can dress myself."

Rick smirked. "Fine. Do it all yourself like you always do. Don't thank me for bandaging you up - again - or anything."

Jason  tucked in his shirt. "Thank you. But I'm fine now."

"You really should stay off that leg today."

"I will, depending on the workload." He finally went to leave, but Rick stopped him.

"You sure you're okay, Hotshot?"

Jason paused and looked over his shoulder. "Would you be okay if you had an assassin with your name on his bullets?" Leaving, he limped back towards his own office.

Another single shot. This time when he'd stopped for gas. Another non-fatal but painful wound, this time in the leg. It hadn't been Wyatt's fault - even trained eyes couldn't catch everything. But being a target was wearing on Jason.