The Legacy (S1E5): Episode Tag

The 6 p.m. flight home from Zurich had taken over seventeen hours, so it was nearly midnight by the time the team left the airport.  Jim mercifully ordered everyone to go home and get a good night’s sleep before reporting the next afternoon for mission debriefing.

Impulsively, Max asked Nicholas to meet him for brunch beforehand.  He agreed, and was ready at ten o’clock the following morning when his blond teammate arrived to pick him up.

“How are you doing, pal?”  Max asked.

“I’m okay.  I’ve still got some jet-lag,” Nicholas quipped with a grin.  “How about you?”

“Fine,” Max responded, pausing for a bit before continuing.  “Any leftover effects from your encounter with Graff?”

Max had done his best to make the question sound casual, but he couldn’t hide the concern in his voice.  When Nicholas turned to look at his friend, he discovered that the blond’s expression matched his tone.

“My chest is still a bit sore,” the dark-haired agent answered quietly, recalling with a slight shudder how his body had snapped backward when Ernst Graff had shot him from just a couple of feet away.  It had been his first time wearing a bulletproof vest; while he was grateful for the protection, he hadn’t expected it to hurt so much.  “There was a hell of a bruise there, but it’s fading.”  Nicholas paused for a moment, then he smiled warmly at his companion.   “I appreciate the concern, Max, but I promise I’m fine.  Is there something you want to talk about?”

Max didn’t answer until they had finished the five-minute trip to the café.  He parked his red sports car, turned off the engine, and turned in the seat to face his friend.

“This whole mission bothered me,” he admitted.  “We knew that Graff was dangerous, but we couldn’t keep in touch with you.”

“Graff kept me in his sights, that’s for sure,” Nicholas agreed.

“When you all showed up at the cemetery, we saw him holding that gun on you,” Max continued.  “I knew you were wearing the vest, and I knew he’d shoot you.  Of course, we heard the first shot.  Then I heard him talking to Brucker, and then a second shot.”

“And that’s when Graff killed him,” Nicholas finished.

Max nodded.  “But for a minute I was afraid that he’d taken another shot at you, somewhere the vest didn’t cover.”  Max sighed heavily.  “It scared me.  I was glad to see you crawling out of that crypt in one piece.”

Nicholas recalled how Max had gripped his shoulder when the two men had emerged from the crypt.  He now reached out to grasp his friend’s shoulder in a similar fashion.

“Graff tried to take control of the situation,” Nicholas said softly.  “I knew I had to stand up to him in order to keep that from happening.  But nobody knew how nervous I really was.” 

Nicholas squeezed Max’s shoulder fondly.  “Thank you for worrying about me.”  Then he glanced at his watch and chuckled.  “I guess we got a head start on debriefing, huh?”

But Max shook his head.  “I couldn’t talk about this with Jim,” he disagreed.  “You know what he said to Grant when Barney was in prison in Turkey.”

“’Emotions can cloud your judgment,’” Nicholas parroted.  Then he smiled slightly.  “But I don’t really believe that.”

“Of course you don’t,” Max grinned teasingly.  “After all, you are the unofficial worrywart of the team.“ Then Max turned serious.  “But in spite of that, you’re still a damn good agent.”

“So are you, Max.”

A moment passed as the two teammates let the concern and mutual respect settle.  Then Nicholas broke the silence.  “So,” he smiled, “are you hungry?”

“Starving,” Max replied, suddenly feeling a thousand pounds lighter.  “Let’s go.”

The two men climbed out of the car.  Max slung one arm around his teammate’s shoulders and they headed for the front door of the café.