Carter's Recourse - 6. Chapter 6

Andrew's sudden appearance had taken Will by surprise. His ex was fast becoming a mystery to him, disappearing for great stretches at a time only to resurface again in some dramatic fashion or another. Though Will had to admit, this time it wasn't all together unwelcome.

He enjoyed the time he spent with Andrew; it took him back to a simpler time, a time when his biggest worry had been his schoolwork and the local bully, dodging classes and getting into mischief. Now he wrestled with things nobody in their late twenties was ever equipped to handle; the responsibility he had chosen weighed heavily on him at times.

He realized, to his dismay, he was getting older, perhaps too old for someone his age. He viewed the world around him with a detachment that lacked the wonder of youth. It came with the territory, though. He was responsible for a lot more than the average man his age, and he took that responsibility to heart and excelled at it.

Yet Will wasn't the only one getting older, as he noticed the tightness around Andrew's eyes. Andrew still walked with that calm confidence that had been his trademark for years. Nothing fazed him--he was always so in control and Will envied him that. Here was a man that had succeeded; he had turned life into something that was uniquely his own and for the most part appeared happy.

Andrew flashed him an amused smile, "Do I want to know?" Will seemed to always be doing that. He was always looking at the world around him, picking things up to examine them, watching for even the most insignificant of details; to some it made him seem distracted, but Andrew knew Will was simply taking in the whole world and examining its minute details.

Will's frown shifted, as he arched an eyebrow and quirked a smile. "The usual when I am out with you," he replied, the pair of them walking through the bustling streets heading up Elgin Street under the shadow of the old church. "Anyway, how about dinner at the Wall Street?"

"Oh, someone is feeling nostalgic," Andrew teased as he put a hand on Will's shoulder guiding him down one of the side streets. The light touch made Will glance down at the surprising intimacy of it. It had been a long time since Andrew had done that, and Will found himself flushing with pleasure at all the memories that touch inspired.

"Don't go getting any ideas," Will said as he plunged his hands into his pockets and setting a amused look on his face as Andrew's hand lingered a moment. "It's just dinner."

His amusement grew at that as they walked up Somerset towards Bank Street, along the beautiful tree-lined road with its old houses that had been converted into offices and restaurants. The hanging globe street lamps added to the very European feel of the street and in the warmth of the summer night, and Will found himself enjoying the walk.

"It doesn't change, does it?" Andrew mused looking about him as he sauntered up the road, his blue eyes glittering in the evening light. He had slipped his hands into his pockets and was walking in that relaxed gait of his along side Will. Occasionally he stole a look at the young politician when Will's head was turned, remembering other things that never seemed to change.

Will glanced about him at Ottawa; it really hadn't changed, not much anyway. Ten years and it was still pretty much the same as it always was. There were a few new buildings, but the feel of the city was still very much the same. A big little town, it was as if the city planners wanted it that way. Not allowing anyone to spoil the natural beauty of the city. Preserving its history, its memories... it's soul.

Will turned to look over at Andrew, the angled features that made him so handsome. The slight upturn of his nose, those blue eyes that just drew a person in and shared a piece of his soul as he spoke. Even for two years older than Will, Andrew was still a good-looking man, one of those catches that made Will wonder why it was that Andrew never seemed to date.

Andrew's hand shot out suddenly, pressing Will back as he took half a step out into the busy street, not even paying attention to his surroundings. He started in shock as the van honked at him and whisked past his nose. It took a moment to register how close he had just been to being run over.

"You okay?" Andrew asked, his eyes scanning the van that was roaring its way down the street. It was probably just a coincidence, however he wasn't about to take any chances.

Will nodded, annoyed at his lapse in attention, "Yeah, I'm fine. I should really watch where I am going." He pulled out his glasses and cleaned them on the end of his tie, looking sheepish. "I think my eyesight's getting worse after all the time I spend reading legislation."

Andrew gave him a fond smile, shaking his head. Some things never changed; Will could still be completely oblivious to most of the world even though he always studied it. After all these years, he still managed at times to be the small mousy high-school kid who preferred his quiet studying to the crowds. And despite the hardened politician's veneer Will would always remain, at his heart, an academic.

Andrew gestured up towards the stop light, "The little white man means go, the red one means stop."

"Shurrup!" Will grumbled with a roll of his eyes, stepping off the curb again as they crossed the street and carried on their way. Will laughed at himself as they carried around the corner past the old Duke of Somerset pub and finally arrived at the Wall Street restaurant.

The old place had been renamed Biddies, but to Will it would always be the same restaurant it had always been. It was his favorite restaurant in Ottawa, more so for the connection he felt with it. They walked in and made their way to one of the raised tiers, Will nodding to the bartender/waiter as they sat down. Moments later menus were in front of them and Will relaxed a bit.

Andrew hesitated as he made to take off his leather jacket; considering it a moment and remembering what he was wearing under it he sat back down. Will gave him a strange look and he shrugged.

"I'm feeling a bit cold," Andrew explained lamely.

Will blinked at the odd comment coming from a Canadian that, when they had first met, seemed oblivious to walking around without a jacket in the middle of winter. He shrugged and accepted it, stretching out a bit on the bench seat and smiled when the waiter brought him a cup of coffee.

"So," Will said breaking the silence, "how's working for the Crown Prosecutors?"

"Different," Andrew admitted truthfully. "It's a lot of work..." he adjusted in his seat as he glanced over the menu.

Will frowned again. Andrew's body language always shifted to uncomfortable when he was talking about work. It was a subject Will was fast coming to learn wasn't something Andrew enjoyed discussing. It had to be a lot of pressure, and hardly ideal. But after Andrew had lost his job with a plush Ottawa law firm and was forced to work for the crown, he had to be feeling the stress. It was like starting over again for the young lawyer.

"And how about you?" Andrew asked. "The Honourable Mister Carter of Toronto Center, hefty title."

"It has its moments," Will admitted stirring sugar into his coffee. "I'm just a back-bench liberal, second-class citizen in the party for the most part..."

"Any chance they'll consider you for a Cabinet spot?" Andrew turned and ordered a burger as the waiter approached, and Will smirked as he ordered a salad.

"Its unlikely, the current Prime Minister and I...don't share the same priorities," Will replied with a faint smile. "He doesn't like the fact I refuse to toe the party line. I vote on the issues I feel are important... I don't think he would trust me with a Cabinet job."

"So you're a political maverick, a back-bench revolutionary," Andrew said with a smile.

"Pretty much," Will said with a grin. "He's paranoid one of these days I am going to cross the floor and join the New Democrats. I just never seem to vote the way he wants me to on party issues."

Andrew chuckled, "I can't see you doing that, you don't strike me as a socialist."

"True," Will replied sipping his coffee. "It's ok, the old man won't be Prime Minister forever, and when the next one is in office I might have a better shot."

Will sat quietly for a moment, wondering about his political future; he was the swing voter, a crucial vote that gave the Liberals their edge, but that didn't stop him from refusing to play by the party rules. He firmly believed democracy wasn't about party politics; it was about his constituents. Why would he vote for social programs that would do nothing to help the people that had voted him in, or budgets that helped out big industry when there were small businesses in his riding that counted on him to keep the big companies from choking the life out of their industry? It was about balance, and he had earned a reputation on both sides of the floor as being a man who was quite vocal in his opinion of right and wrong.

"Any important votes coming up?" Andrew asked, seeming distracted.

Will shrugged, "An urban redevelopment plan by Public Works, useless as usual. Other than that just the usual; we have another debate about the war coming up."

"Oh?" Andrew turned those blue eyes on Will, and looked questioningly at him.

"We're going to be debating sending troops to Iraq; it's not likely to actually get to a vote but the conservatives are pushing for it." Will rested his chin on his hand, setting his spoon down and tasting his coffee, smiling that it tasted fresh.

Andrew nodded thoughtfully. "Where do you stand on it?" he asked, watching Will sip his coffee, the pair of them waiting for the waiter to bring out their orders.

Will looked uncomfortable, he was developing that politician's reluctance to take a firm stance on certain key issues, but Andrew wasn't likely to use it against him and he figured on being honest. "I'm pretty undecided. I used to be strongly against it..."

"But?" Andrew asked.

"Well, West today, talking to me about his experiences, it makes me wonder if staying out of it is the right thing to do." Will leaned back as his salad was placed down in front of him and he smiled in thanks to the waiter, "But at the end of the day that isn't for me to decide, at least not until a vote is called."

"Right," Andrew said, accepting his burger and unzipping his jacket. "Do you think it's right to be dragged into an American mess?"

"Well no," Will admitted truthfully, "I don't, but at the same time we have a responsibility to help out if we can. Peacekeeping has been the mandate of the Canadian Government for a long time."

"Peacekeeping isn't policing," Andrew warned. "We're not equipped or funded enough to do it."

"I know," Will agreed, "but at the same time, my father died in that war. He might still be alive if Canada had honoured its obligation to its allies..."

"That's the Brit in you talking," Andrew said firmly, his eyes searching the hard lines of Will's face, aware of how angry Will was about it, angry over the loss of a chance to ever reconcile with his father.

"Maybe," Will said with a sigh. "As I said, there are strong arguments for both sides, and Parliament is pretty tied over the issue..."

"How close?" Andrew pressed.

Will shook his head, "I don't know, probably pretty even; but it's not an issue yet, no vote will be called on it because the Prime Minister is squarely against becoming involved."

Andrew nodded thoughtfully, picking at his fries wondering if this was the link he was looking for; did the list of politician's names have something to do with that issue? Unlikely as there wasn't a vote. But Andrew had come to learn not to rule anything out.

Will's cell phone rang, and he leaned back to answer it; nodding along, he clicked it off and put it away. "Sorry, just Alicia reminding me I have an early meeting tomorrow."

"Do we have to get going?" Andrew asked, almost sounding disappointed.

Will smiled at him and shook his head, "Nope, I've got plenty of time." He was enjoying the conversation, just sitting across from Andrew again, even if it was for a short time. Andrew had meant so much to him at one point, but they'd both been too young, and drifted apart as they grew.

"Good," Andrew said with a warm smile stabbing his fork into his fries. "So, how are things at home?"

"Let's see," Will said thoughtfully. "Brody is in LA again, no idea why this time. The guy has his fingers in so many pots it's impossible to know what he is up to. Seems to be doing well though..."

"Still single?" Andrew asked. Will's roommate was one of those interesting souls that never seemed to stay in one place, always on the move, larger than life.

"Brody is always single, but never alone, if that makes sense," Will said with a nod. "It's always a different girl, but they are always stunning."

"Good to know," Andrew said. "And the others?"

"Lisa is Lisa, she is going to be quite the soccer mom when Aiden grows up..."

"I always thought Jeff was the mom in that relationship," Andrew admitted with a wry grin.

"True," Will replied thinking of his best friend and her husband, "but he has his own studio now, he is becoming quite the artist."

"Good for him," Andrew said with a firm nod. "And little Peter?"

Will winced, "Would you believe my sprog is out on a date with a girl tonight?" He shook his head, "I mean it's better than him not dating at all, but still..."

Andrew had his own theories on why Peter never went out on dates. The biggest reason was sitting across from him tucking into a Caesar salad. Peter's infatuation with Will was like a school boy's crush that just wouldn't fade. The problem was that Will, as usual, was oblivious to it.

"He'll figure it out," Will said with a nod. "It's just taking him a little longer, that's all."

"That's an understatement," Andrew murmured, and glanced up. "Guess that brings us around to..."

"Marc," Will said uneasily, he never liked discussing Marc with Andrew. The two didn't like each other; they constantly rubbed each other the wrong way. Andrew was the one person who could bring out a jealous streak in Marc, and Will always suspected Andrew did it deliberately.

"Right," Andrew said quietly.

"He's all right, still in school... he's Marc. Very little changes there." Will was being noticeably evasive and Andrew looked over the table at him.

"That's not a good thing," he said thoughtfully. He had never believed Marc was good enough for Will, but Will loved him and had made that very clear.

Will shifted, "I don't know, every relationship hits a bumpy spot, I am sure it will pass."

Andrew decided not to comment, he didn't need to. He could see the internal argument Will was having with himself, that debate over whether Marc would actually change, or if he was going to remain the same, regardless.

"Well, you two are in love, you'll endure," Andrew said simply, deciding to change the subject. "Feel up to dessert?"

* * *

West lay on the large double bed staring up at the shadows that lengthened over his head. Nightfall again, and even though he was jet-lagged and tired, he was wide-awake. The past year-and-a-half had caught up to him at long last, and he took a long ragged breath as he sat up in bed.

He wondered if he should just give in and go home, see his parents; his dad would understand what he was going through--he'd served in the Canadian Army. But West didn't want to worry them, they worried enough about him serving in Iraq. Once he crossed the doorstep, he'd want to stay... never going back to the one place on Earth he never wanted to go again, but where he knew he was needed.

That was the very core of honour. Hating the job, but going anyway because it was your duty. Because you had made a commitment to other people to make sure they were safe, people everywhere, not just at home.

He rubbed his forehead and dug through his clothes, pulling out his well-worn wallet, and thumbing through it till he came to the creased photograph, smiling at the two happy faces in it. How many times, cramped down in a shelled-out building in Basra or some other hellhole had he pulled out that picture? His good-luck charm.

He looked down at Peter's hopeful eyes and closed his hands over the photo; they'd had a brief moment back in high school, where their lives had touched. But West had to admit the memory of that moment had kept him going when the true horrors of war had began to set in.

The Colonel had said once, the two of them sitting beside a fire in a steel drum in the cold Iraqi night, listening to the sounds of gunfire in the distance as they pushed on Basra, that the things that kept a man going out day after day, knowing there was a chance that he, or his men wouldn't come back, were the special things he had left behind.

West, in his own way, had understood that. The old Colonel had left a wife and two children behind at the start of this latest war, and though he always appeared strong in front of his men, it was no secret the man carried a battered pocket watch that his son had bought him for Christmas one year. His own good luck charm... the happy memory that kept him going out day after day.

That was why West was there, that and a hundred other memories of the war that he needed Will to understand. It was the only way West could put the ghosts to rest and finally get a good night of sleep, repaying debts he owed to both Carter men in the process. The first to Will for giving him the chance at the life he wanted, the second to the Colonel for keeping him alive to live it.

He'd started that afternoon, talking to Will over coffee. A politician now... that was a shock. Though there was enough of the old Colonel in Will to make him a natural leader. The way he carried himself, and the fact that no matter what was said, Will had a natural way of making a person feel listened to. West appreciated that; it made what he had to do so much easier.

He turned his head to glance at the phone, picking it up and dialing a number he knew by heart, clicking through to Peter's voice mail, and West sat there silently a moment wondering what he should say before he abandoned the attempt and slipped the receiver back into its cradle. He wasn't ready yet.