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Once you take yours out, put what's left in the fridge."

Leo rested his back on the counter and folded his arms. He was staring. At first he just seemed confused, which gave Anderson the chills. Then those chills turned to fire.

"What did I do?" Leo questioned.

"Nothing," Anderson lied. "Don't worry about it. I should get some sleep." He quickly gathered his things and hurried from the room with Leo calling after him. Stacking the papers by his bag, he disrobed and climbed into bed. While he was awake and working, he didn't realize just how tired he was. The moment he hit the bed however, his lower back throbbed with exhaustion and his eyes could barely stay open.

"Anderson?"

He didn't move.

"Anderson, come on. We need to talk about this."

"I made you dinner. You didn't come home and you didn't call."

"I'm sorry. I'm not used to having someone here. And you didn't tell me you were making me dinner."

Anderson rolled over then. "So now it's my fault?"

"Can we please not argue?"

"Fine," Anderson replied, facing away from Leo. "Good night."

"Andy…"

Not sure how long he'd been asleep, Anderson rolled over and Leo wasn't there. It was probably because of their argument. Feeling like a complete moron, he sat up. Pushing the sheets back, he climbed from the bed and peered out the window. It had rained at some point while he slept for the remnants of water hung against the glass. In the distance a dog barked but other than that, everything outside was still. He pulled on his pants and exited the room, looking for Leo.

He found the cop in the kitchen with crime scene photos spread out on the table, a pen in one hand, and a frown on his face. Anderson folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the door.

"You should get some sleep," he spoke.

Leo jerked around.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sneak up on you. I just woke up and you weren't there."

"This case is nagging me. I couldn't sleep." Leo refocused on the pictures before him but Anderson didn't move from where he was standing. "Did you want something? Are you hungry?"

Anderson ignored the questions and walked to sit across from Leo. He rubbed his hands against his thighs and swallowed the lump in his throat. Leo's hair was finger raked backward, and a beard was starting to settle in on his face, leaving him looking rugged and dangerous. But Anderson pushed away the arousal rising within him. "I know I'm not a cop. But I know a lot about sleep deprivation. You can't go too long without sleep.''

"I'm fine."

"Leo…"

"I said I'm fine!"

Anderson bowed his head at Leo's outburst. The sound of such anguished anger made his heart hurt. He went to push from the table with every intention of just going back to bed or even grabbing his things and going to a hotel, but Leo grabbed his hand. Anderson yanked it away and turned for the door. Leo's chair scraped against the floor and before he knew what was happening, Leo had him in his arms. Anderson stood rigid against Leo's chest, even as Leo's mouth moved up the side of his neck to his hair.

"I'm sorry," Leo whispered. "I didn't mean to lose my temper."

Anderson said nothing.

"I've been stressed. I know it's no excuse but I have been. And this case is driving me crazy. Someone I love is dead."

"Someone you love? He was my father! How can you say that? I know my father meant a lot to you—I guess. But he was the only family I had left. So don't treat me as if I have no stake in any of this."

"I know. But you haven't exactly shown much emotion about this. You've been just…"

"Just what?" Anderson shoved against Leo's chest.

"Anderson, don't."

"No. You started this, so be man enough to finish it. What do you want from me? So I'm not good with the emotions thing. That doesn't mean I don't feel anything. He was my father, Leo. He was the only man on this planet who loved me unconditionally and he's lying in a cold morgue in a freezer with a tag on his toe after they've cut him open! So don't you dare tell me how I'm feeling."

"I'm sorry."

Leo reached for him but Anderson shrugged from his grasp and stormed from the room. Footsteps hurrying down the hall after him made Anderson even angrier.

"I'm warning you, Leo. Don't touch me. I don't want to talk to you right now."

In the bedroom he shoved his things into his bag and roamed the room looking for his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Leo demanded.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Where are you going to go now? It's late."

"I'm a grown man. I'll figure something out." He finally found his shirt between the bed and the wall and shoved his arms into it. When he had it buttoned up, he reached his bag and slipped by Leo out the door.

"Anderson, don't leave like this…"

But Anderson's only reply was to slam the front door as hard as he could, signalling his exit.

* * * *

Ever since he was a child, people kept telling him not to speak or to talk to anyone when he was angry. But Leo's temper always got the better of him and whenever he was pissed, he didn't think before he spoke. It was a horrid habit for a cop. Pressing his back into the wall and fighting the urge to punch it, Leo took deep breaths. He knew he couldn't leave Anderson out there alone. Someone was after him and the last thing he needed was for Anderson to get killed because of a lover's spat.

Even though he spent the next few hours driving around, including stopping by Jazmon's place—which was still cordoned off with yellow tape—and Anderson's place, he couldn't find he professor. Finally he wound up at the station. He compiled a list of hotels surrounding Anderson's house and began making phone calls.

"Hi. This is

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