Disclaimer: I don't own anything O11 related.

A/N: mtc verse fic. Set after they leave home and after 'Adjusting' but before 'Learning Curve' and 'Eye for an Eye'

Every now and then, the whole two-careers thing got to Bobby.

Oh not often, certainly. Most of the time he enjoyed his work, took pride in working inside and outside the law and by this time he was very good at juggling his commitments.

But every now and then it seemed like the stupidest idea in the world.

Like now, for example, when a favour to an old friend by the name of Tom Madison meant that instead of going home to Molly and Linus after three weeks working twenty-hour days on the case from hell, he ended up in Atlantic City, looking at spending the next week retrieving a shipment of diamonds before Tom wound up in the state pen.

At this stage, if the pen had halfway comfortable beds, Bobby was willing to consider it for himself.

He got into the hotel a little after midnight and smiled to see Saul Bloom waiting for him in the lobby. He hadn't known Saul was involved in this, but it was all to the good. Anything that involved this short a timescale and he wanted to be working with the best. And that was Saul alright. "Tom called you too?"

Saul smiled and handed him a room key. "I think Tom called everyone he knows. The place looks like some kind of convention. He's out doing some digging around the Exchange. There's a plan, but apparently it'll keep till morning."

That was good. Bobby wasn't exactly certain how much of a useful contribution he'd be able to make right now. He nodded and glanced at the key.

"Fourth floor," Saul told him helpfully. "You're across the corridor from me."

"Right," he said, and they headed for the elevator.

"So how's Linus?" Saul asked a few moments later.

Bobby smiled. One of his favourite subjects. "He's doing great. Just started kindergarten last month. We got a letter home from the teacher...apparently he arrested the class bully after the kid stole his juicebox."

Saul snorted with laughter. "He's all set to follow in your footsteps, then?"

"Definitely," Bobby said, beaming with pride, and he always liked imagining the dazzling future that Linus was going to have.

"They get bullies at that age now?" Saul asked curiously, as they got out the elevator.

Bobby shrugged. "You get bullies everywhere. Kids learn from their parents."

"Right," Saul said, his eyes briefly far away.

They were standing outside Bobby's room now, and he hesitated. Because he was exhausted, but he was keyed up from travel and the past week and he didn't think sleep was going to come easy. "You want to come in for a drink?" he offered.

"Sure," Saul agreed easily. "I figure we've got some catching up to do."

They probably did, and they went inside and he found some whisky miniatures in the mini-bar. These would do nicely.

"How are Danny and Rusty?" he asked, once the drinks were poured. "They're not here, are they?"

"No, no," Saul shook his head. "I said where I was going to be for the week, and I told them that if we needed anyone extra we'd call, but Rusty's got a couple of class tests this week, and I figured he shouldn't skip them."

Huh. Much as Bobby approved of that, he didn't imagine it had been an easy argument to win. "I bet that was popular."

"It was easier than you'd think," Saul said. "They know they need to keep under the radar...think Danny was worried about it."

Yeah, Bobby had seen that particular worry on more than one occasion, when the reality of their need to avoid anyone questioning their living situation had reared its ugly head. He was never gonna wonder if it was worth it; he could see for himself how much happier they were now that they were on their own. "He should be going to school anyway," he pointed out.

Saul looked amused. "He's bright and in his head he's about ten years older than the other kids in his class. You really surprised that he's sketching the floor plan for The Flamingo in his math book?"

Yes. But maybe he shouldn't be. "The Flamingo? Do I even want to know how they got in the front door?"

"Apparently they're only looking," Saul said, which was something of a comfort. "At the moment," he added, which wasn't.

God save him from kids with ambition.

"So what have they been doing lately?" he asked, doubting that the answer was going to have much to do with school.

"You hear about the thing with Johnny Shiu?" Saul asked.

"No," he said, looking over with interest, anxious to hear the story. He knew the name, of course. Johnny Shiu was widely suspected to trade in people, not that anyone had ever managed to catch him at it.

"Apparently he was in the market for historical buildings from China," Saul explained. "Did you know Rusty can speak Chinese?"

He blinked. "Rusty can speak Chinese?" There were several questions in his head, most of them around how and why.

"Not very well, apparently," Saul added. "But it was enough to convince Johnny that they were able to deliver some ancient Pagoda or something."

"The Golden Gate scam?" Bobby said, the smile slowly dawning. "Nice."

"Oh, yes," Saul agreed. "They got the money and he took delivery of a second hand garden shed."

He laughed. "I would have loved to see the look on his face."

"I'm just glad that they weren't there to see," Saul pointed out.

Yeah. That would have been dangerous. He already knew that they wouldn't be able to persuade the boys to stay away from men like Shiu, but at least they could hope they'd be careful.

Saul was looking at him critically. "You look exhausted."

He nodded wearily. "It's been a long few weeks. I had a bad case and it didn't end well." He closed his eyes for a brief moment, remembering the little room and the iron bars. "I hate the ones with kids involved."

There was sympathy in Saul's eyes but there was another look there too. Something guarded and questioning and Bobby frowned, not understanding at all.

"What?" he asked.

Saul sighed. "It is nothing," he declared, drinking his whisky down in a single swallow.

And that wasn't true at all. He could see that there was something, could see that Saul had some problem with him, and he couldn't think of a single reason why. All he knew was he didn't like it. Saul was someone he liked and respected and had to work with, and he didn't want there to be any trouble between them. "Saul, what did I do?" he asked, bewildered.

Saul poured himself another drink. "I shouldn't..." he said. "It's nothing."

"If there's a problem, don't you think I deserve to know what it is?" he argued.

Saul sighed again and there was a long silence and he could see Saul weighing up the options, struggling with the decision. "When I first met the boys, you told me that they were good kids and you were looking out for them," he said slowly.

He nodded. That was true. That was still true.

"And Rusty said they met you when he was twelve," Saul continued and Bobby nodded again.

"Four years ago now," he agreed.

"I've seen the way you act around Rusty," Saul said, his eyes fixed on Bobby's face. "You're...careful. You know what his childhood was like."

Bobby tensed and this was something that he and Saul had never talked about. He knew that Rusty - and Danny too, for that matter - would never want them to talk about this. It was getting damned close to breaking confidences, and Bobby was never going to be comfortable with that.

"You met them first," Saul went on, and Bobby wanted to argue that it was already too late by then, it was a lifetime too late, and Rusty's mother had already hurt him and left him. "Why didn't you do something? Why didn't you get him away from that bastard he calls a father?"

"It wasn't his father," Bobby said automatically, and another time he might have thought before speaking, but right now he was exhausted and off guard. That wasn't quite enough to dampen his instincts though. He saw the look on Saul's face the instant he spoke. Saul was so certain. Bobby frowned. "What...why do you think it was his father?"

Saul shook his head quickly, obviously unwilling to say, clearly cursing himself.

There was only one possible reason for that reaction. Saul couldn't tell him, because Rusty was the one who had told Saul that it was his father and Saul wasn't willing to tell Bobby anything that Bobby didn't already know.

But Rusty had said that it was his mother who had hurt him. He'd told Bobby that his father never laid a finger on him.

He'd lied.

Goddamnit, he'd lied so that Bobby wouldn't know he was in trouble.

"Why would he do that?" he asked aloud, and he could hear the agony in his own voice. "He had to know...they both had to know that I would have done anything. I wouldn't have left him to be hurt like that."

"Bobby..." Saul's voice was full of sympathy. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I thought you knew."

"I should have known," he said, and he was anguished and he was angry. "I should have checked more carefully. I should have known he was lying. Fuck." He stood up abruptly, pacing across the room. "Why didn't I know?" He'd seen abused kids before. All of Rusty's behaviours that he'd put down to the past, and Rusty had still been living his nightmare.

He'd never met Rusty's father, and he knew that Rusty hadn't been happy at home, but he'd never thought that Rusty was meeting him, was talking and laughing and cracking jokes, eagerly learning whatever he'd set his mind to, and then going home and being beaten.

How many bruises had he missed? How much pain could have been avoided?

"Damn it," he said, his voice an agonised whisper. "How could he not ask for help? How could he..." He shook his head blindly.

"You can't tell him that you know," Saul cut in swiftly.

He closed his eyes and nodded briefly. He wanted to talk to them about it. He wanted to apologise, wanted to beg their forgiveness for not knowing, for not somehow guessing in spite of the lies, for not helping them, not killing that bastard. But Saul was right. Talking to them about this...it would make him feel better. It wouldn't help Rusty. There was no way Rusty would see it as anything other than an accusation and a reminder of everything he wanted to forget.

"Don't worry," he said, and his voice was calm and steady now. "I won't say a word." He stood by the door. "We'd better both get some sleep, Saul. I guess tomorrow is going to be a long day."

Saul looked at him closely. "You going to be okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I just need some time." Right now, he wanted to be alone. "I should have known," he said again, and his voice cracked slightly.

He'd failed.

"This is not your fault," Saul told him firmly, and it sounded like he meant every word. "I suspect he got very good at hiding it over the years."

And that thought was just too painful to consider. Yes, Bobby knew that he wasn't the only one who'd missed it. But that didn't make a difference to how he felt.

"Regrets aren't going to change anything," Saul told him quietly, and he knew that was true. It was just gonna take time to accept.

After Saul left, he lay down on the bed and went over every time he'd seen them in his head, every word that had been spoken, looking for all the signs that should have led him to truth.

Sleep was a long time coming.