It's not easy being blue -- a cop -- that is, not a good one anyway. Scott Hedrich and Mark Stenner have had each other's backs a long time. Best friends, they've supported each other through girlfriends, marriages, divorces, promotions, the various ups and downs and dangers of their job, including the terrorist attack on DC.
Somewhere along the way, their friendship turned into something more. Twenty-three years later and they've finally come to recognize what's been the truth all along. They belong together. It's time for a wedding!
September 11, 2001 -- Scott
The world was in chaos. Scott’s first call had been to Lynn, making sure she was safe at her bank teller job. It wasn’t like the bank was really anywhere near the Pentagon, but Scott felt compelled to check on her. The second call was to Mark.
“Stenner,” Mark answered his cell phone, voice sounding raw and tense.
“Mark, are you okay? I know you’ve been patrolling in the Mall area.”
“It’s a fucking mad house around here, but I’m fine.” Mark coughed. “Shit, Scott, it looked like a fucking nuclear bomb had hit minus the damn mushroom cloud. It was across the river, but still ...”
“But you’re okay ...”
“Yeah, intact anyway.”
“Janet?” Scott asked about Mark’s fiancée.
“Is safe. They’re backing up all the computers where she works in case there’s some kind of software attack. I gotta go. I’ll call you later. I promise.” Mark said and hung up.
Five hours later Mark showed up on the doorstep of Scott’s house. He looked absolutely frazzled, sweaty, eyes bloodshot. Scott’s wife was not home; she and Kari had gone to stay with a close friend whose husband was among the missing.
“You look like absolute shit,” Scott said as he beckoned Mark in.
“Please tell me you have beer.”
Mark followed Scott into the kitchen and Scott handed him a beer from the refrigerator. Cracking it open, Mark took a gulp then sat the bottle on the countertop. “God ... I never want to have a day like this ever again.”
Scott stepped close and wrapped an arm around Mark, hugging him. “Yeah, me either, and I think my day was less evil than yours.” Mark felt so warm and alive in his arms, and Scott was relieved his best friend was safe. He tipped Mark’s face up toward his and kissed him. It wasn’t really intentional, more of a reflex based on stress, but it felt so right. Mark was very still for a moment, neither moving nor responding, then he slid his hands around Scott and pushed him back against the wall, returning the kiss with aggression bordering on desperation.
“I want you naked under me,” murmured Mark.