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Notes: Don't ask me where it came from, I don't know. Heck, this is the first time I clearly got a slash vibe from the show. Also, I don't use Provenza's first name because he's not given one, not even on TNT's site for the show, and I didn't feel like trying to make one up when I was finishing the fic at 1:20 in the morning. If I write another story in this fandom, I probably will give him a first name.
It was hours until he could get a moment alone. First it'd been the paramedics checking him over, then the FBI and the DA had both wanted to talk to him, get his statement about what had happened. It was late, and it looked like it was going to be a whole lot later when he got out of this place.
Provenza splashed a bit of cold water on his face, then leaned against the sink. Wasn't the first time he'd had a gun pointed at him, but he was pretty certain that it was the first time he'd been certain the man holding the gun /would/ pull the trigger. It'd also been the first time he'd felt the warmth of the muzzle pressed up against his temple. And he'd actually liked DeLuca, thought he'd understood the guy.
Provenza was just coming out of the men's room when he was slammed against the wall. He instinctively looked for backup despite the fact that he'd slipped off to a little-used restroom in a farther corner of the floor on purpose, looking to be alone.
"Provenza, you Goddamned sunovabitch, you started listening to the advice of a mob hit man /now/? Were you /trying/ to get yourself killed?" Provenza relaxed a little at Flynn's quiet growl.
"Oh, like I handed my gun over nicely and /asked/ him to hold it to my head!" Provenza bitched back.
"You stupid bastard. I had to sit there and watch while you and he got all buddy-buddy. Did you forget what he did for a living, or were you just ignoring it?"
A light dawned for Provenza. Flynn had been acting like just a shit because he'd been /jealous/ of how well he and DeLuca had gotten along. He didn't get a chance to say anything, though, because Flynn was kissing him like there was no tomorrow.
Provenza relaxed into the kiss with a groan, letting Andy hold him up for a moment, and kissing his lover back with all the fear and desperation he'd felt when DeLuca had been holding the gun on him.
When the kiss broke, Andy pulled back only to rest his forehead against Provenza's, "You stupid asshole. You nearly got yourself killed and I couldn't do anything to help. I didn't have a shot." The catch in Andy's voice, above and beyond the physical closeness while still technically at work, told Provenza just how badly he'd scared his lover.
"So give Sanchez a big ol' sloppy kiss and thank him for saving my ass, then." Provenza's body contradicted his words, holding Andy closer for a moment, soaking in the comfort of his lover's body.
Brenda hurried back to the squad room. She'd wanted to have a word with Provenza, see how he was doing. That Flynn had beaten her to it didn't entirely surprise her, he and Provenza both were junkyard dogs with hearts of gold. And if anyone asked, that was exactly how she'd phrase it: Provenza had Flynn with him, and his partner was helping him deal with it. Brenda would go to her grave before she'd betray their secret. And she'd wrestle the devil himself before she'd admit that she had felt a pang of jealousy. Not even Fitzie or Pope would just ambush her like that. No matter how much she /and/ they might need it. But Flynn had done that for Provenza.
Brenda pasted a smile on her face as she rejoined the circus in the squad room. She never bluffed inside the interrogation room, but outside it she was a true Southern lady the way her momma had raised her to be. She could lie or tell you to go to hell in the most polite terms and with a pretty smile on her face and not a hair out of place. And she intended to do just that, and buy Provenza and Flynn a few more minutes of peace and privacy when she did.