Warnings: Non-con. Spoilers for Life on the Wire and Kiss
Tomorrow Goodbye. Minor spoilers for Zero Option.

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Letting Go
by Lianne Burwell
February 2002
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Back at the Special Operation's Group's headquarters after
two months undercover, Jake Shaw clicked the send button
for his final report, then pushed back from his desk.
Immediately he hissed, his ribs reminded him that he'd been
shot earlier that day. Kevlar might stop bullets from doing
any damage, but they still did damage, and he had three
cracked ribs to prove it.

"Here."

A cup of fresh coffee and two small pills appeared on his
desk as if by magic, and he smiled up at the face of his
boss, Frank Donovan. "Thanks," he said, picking the pills
up and dry swallowing them. He didn't ask what they were:
after working with the man for a good part of a year now,
since the death of their last captain, he'd come to trust
the man.

"You did good today. Held your head." Donovan smiled. "And
considering what happened, that couldn't have been easy."

Jake waved off the compliment. "What's the word from the
hospital?" he asked instead.

"Officer Weathers made it through surgery just fine. He's
going to be riding a desk for a year, probably, but he's
expected to make a full recovery."

"His mother will like that," Jake said with a laugh. "He
said she wanted him behind a desk where he wouldn't get
hurt."

Donovan laughed. "Well, she'll get her wish, I guess." Then
he sobered. "Something arrived for you while you were
under."

"Hmm? What?" There'd been a pile of mail on his desk, built
up since the last time he'd been able to check in in
person, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Donovan pulled an envelope out of his jacket's inside
pocket. It had obviously been opened, and Jake frowned.
"Not me," Donovan handed it over. "But since it was sent
care of the Justice Department, and considering who it was
from, the brass insisted on opening it."

Jake stared at the envelope. The stamps were from some
country he didn't recognize, probably a little flyspeck out
there. Somehow, he doubted that it had been mailed from
there originally. Sonny Walker was too smart for that. On
the other hand, he'd also put his name on the envelope,
which *didn't* seem smart.

Jake ran his finger over the address. Jake Shaw, care of
the Justice Department, Washington, D.C.. Where the man had
found his real name, he wasn't sure. He'd been Jake
Kowalski during his time in Sonny's gang.

He took a deep breath and lifted the flap. There was only a
single piece of paper inside, and he slid it out and
unfolded it.

'Quito couldn't let the past go. I can. Can you?' No
signature, but he recognized the writing. He stared at it
for a moment before crumpling the sheet and tossed it in
the waste basket.

"You want to talk about it?" Donovan asked.

"Not really."

The older man sat down on the edge of the desk, arms folded
casually across his chest. "You sure about it? I read
Keller's private notes after I took over the group," he
added, and Jake winced. "Jake, we all do things for this
job that we wouldn't normally do. It's why we're the ones
who *can* do the job. But sometimes it helps to talk to
someone who understands, won't judge."

Jake looked up at Donovan, considering the man's words.
After a moment's thought, he made a decision. "Sonny Walker
was this department's first big case, you know? Lots of
pressure to justify our existence to the brass. After
Sonny's driver got killed, we managed to plant me as his
new driver. Everything was going find until two creeps from
one of my old cases saw me at Sonny's favorite hangout and
put two and two together and decided to kill me."

* * * * * * * * * *

Jake prowled around his apartment, feeling too restless to
sleep and too strung out to risk calling anyone. He wanted
to call Alex, Keller, someone, but he didn't dare. He was
undercover. Despite his meet with Keller the night before,
anything that wasn't part of his cover was too dangerous to
risk.

There was a bottle of scotch sitting on his kitchen
counter, the store seal still on it. A bottle of wine sat
chilling in the fridge, planned for his date with Vanessa,
a date he'd already called to cancel.

Leaving the booze where it was, Jake dropped onto his
couch. He was still sticky with sweat from the double
whammy an hour or so earlier. Two goons from a previous
assignment stumbling into the wrong bar. They'd decided to
take him out. Thankfully, they just knew him as the guy
who'd gotten off while they went to jail, not as an
undercover cop. Unfortunately, dead would still be dead.

And he'd thought he was dead. But Sonny had seen them too,
and come out after them. He'd killed them before they could
kill Jake. Right now, he was disposing of the bodies. A
family, he'd promised. Ready to back you up, no matter
what. He'd proved that statement true.

Of course, family hadn't stopped him from jamming a gun in
Jake's face and demanding an explanation, threatening to
kill him if he lied. Thank god he'd believed Jake's story,
which had been more truth than lie anyway.

The adrenaline was still pumping. Some days, Jake wondered
if he was becoming a junkie. Maybe that was why he stayed
in this job; always looking for the next adrenaline high.
Maybe he should get out of this business. Get out while he
was still alive.

He snorted. Nah, he wasn't quitting, at least not anytime
soon. Besides, what would he do instead?

His reverie was broken by a heavy hand hitting his door. He
stood up, grabbing his gun from where he'd dropped it on
the coffee table. He edged silently towards the door, the
gun ready. It might be Keller, but he doubted it. Meeting
him someplace else was one thing, but the boss wasn't
stupid enough to come to the apartment. Especially not with
the girl down the hall.

"Open up, Jake," the voice on the other side of the door
commanded. The smoky tone was definitely not his captain.

Jake undid the deadbolt and opened the door. "Sonny?" he
said, almost squeaking in surprise. "Is there another
problem?"

Sonny was grinning at him, but there was a light in his
eyes that Jake wasn't sure how to interpret. "No more
problem," he said cheerfully. "Your former playmates are
now at the bottom of the harbor, just like I promised."

Since Sonny was obviously not planning on leaving any time
soon, Jake stepped back and let Sonny move past him, into
the apartment. "Thanks, Sonny," he said, ignoring the flash
of guilt he felt. Two men were dead and dumped because of
him. Of course, if they'd had their way *he* was the one
who would be floating out to sea with the tide.

Sonny prowled around the apartment, looking into every
corner like he owned the place. He finally ended up in the
kitchen, pulling two glasses from cupboard. Then he picked
up the bottle of scotch and carefully pulled of the seal
and poured two glasses. One he handed to Jake. The other he
tossed back in one shot, then refilled from the bottle.

"So," Sonny said as Jake sipped his scotch slowly. "I
thought you said that you had plans."

Then why are you here? Jake wanted to ask, but didn't.
"Cancelled them," he said with a casual shrug.

"Thought you might," Sonny said, his grin turning wolfish.
"What happened tonight, it isn't something you share with
some girl, is it?"

Jake turned away and headed over to the window. He scanned
the building opposite, wondering which window his place was
being watched from. Keller wouldn't interfere, as long as
his life wasn't in danger, but he wasn't going to leave
Jake out dangling in midair without a safety net. "She's a
nice kid," he said, taking a deeper drink from the glass,
enjoying the burn as it went down. "I'm not exactly in a
nice mood."

"I know what you mean," Sonny said, from right behind him,
making him jump. He hadn't heard the larger man move. "The
adrenaline rush of knowing you're going to die. The relief
when you realize that you aren't. The need to let loose. I
could hear you howling from across town."

'Why does a wolf howl, Jake?' Sonny had said at their first
meeting, first interview. 'A wolf howls because he's
lonely. He wants other wolves around. He needs to be part
of a pack. Otherwise the nights get cold and empty out
there. And don't tell me you can fill it with the hotties.
We both know that doesn't get it done.'

Sonny was so close that they were practically touching.
More than a little uneasy, Jake moved away, and Sonny let
him go. "Yeah, well, I know a gym that's open all night. I
thought I might go punch a bag for a while," he said,
setting down his glass on the coffee table.

"There are better ways of taking care of the adrenaline
rush," Sonny said suggestively. "Much more pleasant ways
that bruising your knuckles."

"Vanessa deserves better than that," Jake said, scrubbing
his hand against his jeans. This conversation was getting
damned weird. "And I don't like paying a professional,
especially not if I'm going to leave her with bruises."

"There's another choice, you know."

"Oh yeah?" Jake challenged the man. "What?"

Bad move, that. Appearances can be deceiving, and
appearances said that Sonny couldn't move that fast. Didn't
stop him from pinning Jake to the wall before he even
realized that the other man had moved. Sonny's hands
pressing his wrists to the wall and the knee between his
legs pushed him up until he was unbalanced, resting on his
toes. He froze in shock as Sonny's tongue snaked halfway
down his throat.

He struggled for a moment, pure instinct, then relaxed. He
was scared out of his wits, but he wasn't going to be able
to move until Sonny let him. He just didn't understand what
the hell Sonny's game was. There was nothing in his file
that even suggested that he might be gay. There was a
woman, somewhere, that they hadn't been able to trace.
Everything they knew about the man said he was straight. So
why the fuck was he trying to extract Jake's tonsils the
hard way?

Finally, Sonny broke the... well, Jake wasn't sure he was
willing to call it a kiss. When the other person had a
mustache, he definitely didn't want to call it a kiss.
Otherwise, he didn't move, just stood there, still holding
Jake still, a wide, almost feral, grin on his face.

"Sonny, you drunk or something?" Jake said, shifting in an
attempt to get away. All he succeeded in doing was rubbing
against the man's leg in a way that was almost... "I didn't
think you were... I'm not..." Suddenly he had the sinking
feeling that he was blushing like some virgin schoolgirl.

"Not what, a brother in arms?" Sonny asked, his scotch
scented breath making Jake's nostrils flare, but it didn't
smell like the man was drunk. "Brothers who share
everything? Or don't you trust me?"

Jake stiffened. Suddenly, Keller's words came back to him.
A cult with constant tests. Tests that would continue until
he broke. Was this another one of those test? "Of course I
trust you," he said earnestly. "You saved my life tonight.
But I've never... I'm into girls, you know."

"And I'll bet they're into you," Sonny said, looking him up
and down. "But there are times when they just can't meet
the need, and when that time comes, who you going to turn
to except your brothers?"

"Isn't that, like, incest or something?"

Sonny threw his head back and laughed. "You are something
else, Jake Kowalski."

"Yeah, I've been told that before," Jake shot back.

"I'll bet. Now, shut up."

No, he definitely wasn't going to call it a kiss. An
expression of domination, Monica might say. Another test,
Keller would call it. And if he didn't pass this test, what
then?

That thought drained the fight out of him, and he sagged
against Sonny. It seemed to be the signal that the crime
boss had been waiting for. He let go of Jake and stepped
back. "You got a bedroom in this place?" he asked.

"Bedroom?" Jake said stupidly.

"Might be a little more comfortable than the floor."

Floor. Jake gulped, and nodded down the tiny hallway to the
two doors that led to the bathroom and bedroom, then let
Sonny steer him in that direction. In his mind, he was
going over the options, and he was coming up empty. Either
he went along with this, or he risked blowing the whole
operation. But could he really do this?

He stood, staring at the bed from the doorway. Sonny
pressed up against his back, reaching around and undoing
his pants. "Trust me, Jake," he said softly, smoothly, oh
so seductively into Jake's ear. "You're going to love
this." He pushed Jake's jeans down over his hips, and his
briefs with them. "Trust me."

Jake shut his eyes and nodded. Sonny stepped away, and
after a moment, Jake stepped out of his pants, toeing off
his shoes and socks as he did so, then pulled off his
shirt, then his undershirt. Naked, he stepped forward, but
he couldn't bring himself to turn around.

He could hear the rustling sounds as Sonny also undressed,
and he fought down a moment of panic. Then Sonny was back
behind him, the start of an erection jabbing him in the...
Jake shivered, but didn't jerk away.

"Anyone ever tell you you're an attractive man, Jake
Kowalski?" Sonny said softly, running his hands up and down
Jake's arms, raising even more goose bumps than he already
had. Jake shivered as Sonny swiped the side of his neck
with his tongue.

"Yeah, but usually the person saying that is a woman," he
said, licking his dry lips.

"Well, it's true." Sonny wasn't rubbing his arms anymore.
Instead, one hand was teasing across his chest, tugging at
sparse chest hairs and rubbing his nipples. They were
already peaked from cold and fear. The added stimulation
sent sparks through him, even though his nipples weren't
usually this sensitive.

The other hand, though, was going lower. It brushed lightly
against his stomach, then the top of his bush, then...

When Sonny's hand curved around his soft cock, Jake finally
jumped. He started to pull away, but Sonny didn't let go,
so he couldn't go far. Held in place by the grip on his
dick. The larger man was rubbing his body against Jake's
back, and he started stroking Jake's cock, not put off by
its flaccid state. "Trust me, Jake. You know you want to.
I'm going to make you feel good. Trust me."

Sonny had a very hypnotic voice, and Jake found himself
starting to relax in spite of himself. He closed his eyes
and tried to imagine that it was a girl stroking him, and
even though Sonny's hands were too large and with calluses
in the wrong places, he succeeded enough to get an
erection.

"Not just an attractive man, a well-endowed one too. So
much for the theory about compensating."

"Huh?" Jake said. Strangely, even though he'd lost his
image of the woman in his mind, he wasn't losing the
erection. In fact, he was having trouble breathing, and he
started to move with the stroking. Sonny knew just what to
do to keep him interested.

"That men who get in fights are compensating for the fact
that they're under-endowed. I'm sure you've heard it."

"Uh huh?" Jake said, almost moaning. This shouldn't feel so
fucking good.

Sonny nipped at his ear, just sharp enough to make him
catch his breath. "You aren't listening, are you?" Sonny
said with a chuckle. "You need this bad."

The smug confidence in the man's voice made Jake want to
snarl at him, but instead, Sonny tickled his balls and all
he could do was moan. So fucking good. So fucking wrong.

But he went willingly when Sonny pressed him down onto the
bed, onto his back, with Sonny following him. For a
supposedly straight man, Sonny knew every trick in the
book.

He spent a long time on Jake's nipples, until they were
swollen and sore. Jake twisted, but there was nowhere to
go. Sonny said he was going to love this, and the scary
thing was, he was right. No woman had ever spent this much
time getting him going. Instead, they all seemed to expect
him to do the work. This time, all he could do was lie
there and let Sonny drive him out of his mind.

God, who would have known that his stomach was so
sensitive? And who would have thought Sonny would want to
spend so much time licking it? When the man's tongue
speared into his navel, Jake nearly shot of the bed with a
surprised cry that just made Sonny chuckle.

By the time Sonny reached Jake's cock, he'd been on edge
for so long that it only took one lick to send him over the
edge, back arching so hard he thought it would snap for a
moment. Then Jake settled back onto the bed, eyes squeezed
shut and breathing heavily, and more than a little shocked.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd come so hard, and
from so little. The fact that it was Sonny that had done it
to him was just all the more disturbing, no matter how much
he told himself that it was just an act, for the job.

Then the bed dipped again, and he opened his eyes. They
went even wider when he took in Sonny. The man was
kneeling, straddling Jake's legs, and he was so hard it
must have been painful. He was also wearing a condom, and
squeezing something shiny into his hand from a tube that
didn't belong to Jake.

"Ah, Sonny, I don't know about this," he said, pushing up
onto his elbows.

"Don't think, Jake. Just feel," Sonny said, shoving him
flat again. He held Jake down with one hand, while the
other slipped between Jake's legs. A little maneuvering on
the larger man's part and Jake was flat on his back, with
his legs spread almost painfully wide, and he couldn't do a
damned thing about it.

Then he hissed as a large, blunt finger pushed into him. It
didn't feel anything like when the doc did it, cold and
impersonal, wearing gloves. Instead of cool and smooth,
Sonny's index finger was fiery hot and rough. It was also
anything but impersonal, twisting this way and that before
being joined by a second finger.

"Shit!" Jake hissed trying to get away from the sting. It
didn't really hurt, it was just uncomfortable, like the day
after a hard workout when the muscles protested overuse.
Sonny didn't let him get away.

"Breathe deep, young wolf," he said, pulling out his
fingers. He let go of Jake briefly, but only long enough to
slip his hands under Jake's thighs, then press them up
towards his chest.

"Sonny..." Jake said, pleading.

"Breathe."

Jake drew a deep breath, then gasped as Sonny thrust
forward. For a moment he thought the other man was going to
rip him apart. The pressure built, then suddenly gave way,
and Sonny sank full length into him. "Fuck!" he shouted,
twisting on the man's cock. He had a cock up his ass. How
the fuck did he get himself into these things? God, it
burned.

"That's right, fight me," Sonny hissed, looming above him.
"This is what the girls can't give you, a battle in bed.
Let go of it, bite and scratch and claw. Show me what
you've got." He started to thrust, and the burn became a
fire. Then lightning exploded. Jake clenched his teeth,
then howled. Intellectually, he knew that a man's prostate
could be sensitive during sex, but this was like nothing
he'd ever felt before.

Sonny was kissing him, and he bit down on the man's lower
lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, but the man just
laughed. Jake's lower back was already aching from the
awkward position, but he was quickly forgetting that.
Sonny, it seemed, was good at anything he tried, whether it
was robbing banks or fucking virgins, because Jake was on
fire, and all he could do was claw at Sonny's back, urging
him on. He was going to be horrified later, but for now...

Sonny'd been right. This was what he needed.

No. This wasn't him. This was the job, doing what Sonny
wanted, playing the role.

Oh God, it felt good.

Holy Father, forgive him.

Jake convulsed, filling the hand he hadn't even noticed
stroking him, and he dimly heard Sonny bellow triumphantly
as he came. Marking territory? Jake didn't know. Didn't
care.

He was gasping for air as Sonny pulled out of him slowly,
showing more care than he had coming in. He tilted his head
back in an instinctive surrender as the other man nuzzled
at his neck, then nipped his earlobe. "Sweet Jake," Sonny
said hoarsely. "Very sweet. Get some rest, now. We've got a
job to do soon."

Jake shut his eyes, but he listened carefully as Sonny
dressed himself, then left. Once he heard the apartment
door shut, he got up and went, still naked, to make sure
that it was locked. He did the deadbolt and the chains,
just to be sure, then went back to the bedroom. He stared
at the bed for a moment, and shuddered. Moving quickly, he
stripped the damp, sex-stained sheets off the bed and
stuffed them in the hamper in the bathroom, then remade it
with clean linens. The condom, left sitting on the bedside
table, the end tied off, he lifted carefully, watching it
like it was going to bite him. After a moment's thought, he
opened the window and tossed it out, not caring who might
find it.

He stood under the spray of the shower for a long time,
until the steam filled the room and made it hard to
breathe. The bar of soap had dissolved down to a sliver
before he was starting to feel clean again. Reluctantly, he
finally turned the water off before he completely shriveled
up.

He dried off quickly and climbed into bed. If there was
going to be a job, then he better be rested.

But sleep was a long time coming, and the dreams that came
with it were disturbing.

>>>~~~<<<

Jake breathed a deep sigh of relief as both Sonny and
Vanessa were taken away in handcuffs. He'd been on edge
ever since the take-down. How it had ended up so screwed up
that Sonny had escaped, he still didn't know. They'd
thought they'd lost all chance of catching Sonny until
Vanessa had called him. He'd known from day one that she
was in with Sonny, but it had still been a shock when the
man had shown up at Vanessa's apartment. He hadn't thought
Sonny would be so hung up on getting revenge. The
expression in the man's eyes when he was taken away...
Hate, anger, betrayal, and more.

"You okay, Jake?" Keller asked softly, squeezing Jake's
shoulder gently. Jake nodded.

"Yeah, just glad it's over. Ready to go on to the next
case, you know?"

"Well, that won't be quite yet. In fact, why don't you take
a few days, take a break."

Jake glanced at his boss. The expression on the man's face
was sympathetic. In fact, it was almost pitying, and Jake
found his temper flaring. "I'm fine. I don't need a
vacation, I need some work."

Keller immediately backed down with a shrug. "If you say
so. Actually, we've got a couple requests that might be
just up your alley." He gestured towards the door, and they
left the apartment to the crime scene grunts. "But if you
need anyone to talk to..."

"I'll talk to my priest," Jake snapped back. It was one
thing to know that an undercover agent was under discrete
surveillance, it was another for your captain to make it
obvious that he knew just what you had done to stay
undercover. He wondered for a moment, unkindly, just how
much surveillance he'd been under. Had someone been
listening in as Sonny had fucked him? Were there cameras
that had caught the moment for posterity? How many people
knew?

Jake took a deep breath and did his best to relax. Keller
was just being concerned, like a good captain should be. "I
promise, I will talk to him. For now, I just want to grab
my stuff and head home, 'kay?"

"Okay," Keller said. "But seriously, if you ever need
someone to talk to..."

"I know where to find you." Jake stopped at the door to his
temporary apartment. There wasn't much there to grab, just
some clothing. Everything else had been supplied as part of
his cover. "And Keller?"

The other man stopped, halfway down the hall to the stairs.
"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Keller smiled. "That's what friends are for."

* * * * * * * * * *

"After Sonny escaped, I spent a lot of time looking over my
shoulder. Between him and Quito, I was sure I was dead. I
brought both of them down, temporarily at least, by getting
close to them and then stabbing them in the back, so
needless to say, they were pretty pissed off."

Donovan nodded. "Which is why Quito got himself shot and
captured when he could have escaped."

"Because he wasn't willing to leave without getting his
revenge," Jake finished for him.

"But Sonny did. He has more sense that Quito, I would say."

Jake stared down at his folded hands. His ribs were aching,
and he desperately wanted a drink. "Yeah. I guess so."

"So, can you let the past go?"

Jake's attention shot back to Donovan. He shouldn't have
been surprised that the man had read the note -- Hell, half
the Justice Department probably knew what it said and what
it referred to -- but it still caught him off-guard. "Do I
have a choice?"

"There are always choices. You could choose to dwell on it,
let it obsess you until it drives you half mad." Donovan's
eyes closed, and he held still for a moment. Then he
sighed, and smiled slightly. "Or you can let it go. Not
forget, but not let it haunt you."

"Have you ever..." Jake paused, wondering if he was
crossing a line. They still knew very little of their boss'
past, and the man was very private.

"Slept with someone to maintain my cover?" Donovan filled
it. He didn't sound upset. "Yes, more than once. And if you
were wondering, yes, even a man."

"Did you... enjoy it?" Jake wanted to kick himself. But he
really did want to know, because despite his shame over
what happened, not a week went by that Sonny didn't figure
in his dreams somehow. Sometimes nightmares, but usually he
woke with the sheets wet with something other than sweat,
and if anything, that disturbed him more than the sex.

"Having to do it? Or the sex itself? If I could have, I
would have found another way. But the sex?" Donovan
chuckled softly, his eyes focused on a point well past
Jake's head. "Yes, I enjoyed it very much."

"I shouldn't have." It was wrong. The church said so.

Donovan leaned forward and squeezed Jake's shoulder. "There
is no shame in it. Just as there is no shame in hating it.
Some rapists make it pleasurable for their victim, but that
does not make it any less a rape. Did you ever speak to
anyone about what happened?"

"You mean a shrink? Someone official? No. Just my priest.
I've been going to him since I was a kid, growing up in the
group home he runs."

"And what did he tell you?"

Jake sighed. "That there is no shame in doing what I had to
to stop Sonny from hurting others. That God understands my
confusion. That I should feel no guilt for my body enjoying
what was done. That I need to learn to forgive myself for
the things I cannot control."

"A wise man."

Jake smiled at that, starting to really relax for the first
time in weeks. "Yeah. He's probably the reason why I'm
putting crooks behind bars when I could have easily been on
the other side of the equation, although he'd prefer I was
in a safer line of work. Kind of like Officer Weather's
mom."

"Remind me to thank him for that some day," Donovan said,
echoing the grin, "because you would have been a damned
good criminal. *Too* good." That spurred a genuine laugh
from Jake. "Now, get out of here. I don't want to see you
for at least a week. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir!" Jake said, snapping the man a salute, then
getting to his feet. "And... thanks. For listening."

"My pleasure. And perhaps someday I'll tell you my story."

"I'll look forward to it. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm
about to fall asleep on my feet."

"Go home," Donovan said with a wave, heading for the stairs
leading to his own office. "Scram."

"Scramming," Jake said softly to himself, heading for the
exit, feeling lighter than he had for a long time. And who
knew, maybe Sonny wouldn't haunt his dreams that night.

Because letting go of the past wasn't as easy as it
sounded.

END