Special note January 16, 2012: I have finally gotten around to replacing the section breaks that FF removed a long time ago. I know some folks found this non-linear fic impossible to read without them; hopefully this makes it easier! I'm still writing BA fics, keep your eyes open! BTW I've created a playlist on my YouTube account with all the songs used as chapter titles.

My YouTube account is SilentGCanada, if you want to go check it out! I personally think the songs are very well-suited to the chapters, although Kate Bush isn't to everyone's taste!

CHAPTER TWELVE: CHRIS'S THOUGHTS

Chris had been driving for almost two hours straight before exhaustion overtook the humiliation and ire that had fuelled his abrupt escape from Nicky's place in the middle of the night.

Who the fuck was that guy? And who the fuck goes camping with a co-worker? The NYPD was a fucking cesspool of whorishness, obviously. He thanked his lucky stars that things hadn't gone further with him and the little detective.

Christ, he was glad to see the back of Alexandra Eames. Anyone who would spend five minutes voluntarily in the company of that psycho prick, much less let him touch her … that way … (he could barely manage to articulate the thought of such intimacy, much less revisit the revolting image), was clearly unbalanced and not the great catch he had assessed her when they'd dated.

Feeling drained after white-knuckling the steering wheel the whole drive, he pulled over and flipped the seat all the way back. He'd put his jeans on over his PJs, he'd been in such a hurry. And he'd put his t-shirt on inside out too. It was chilly at this time of night, even in the summer, so he pulled a jacket out of the back seat to tuck in under. In the quiet and stillness of his car, he couldn't get the image of that man out of his head, watching him smugly as he stumbled out of the cabin, clothes inside out, stuff crammed into his backpack.

Nicky, you owe me one brother, he thought as he finally drifted off.