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Cruel and unusual punishment, thy name is a crying baby.

Vance awoke at the ungodly hour of zero-two-hundred, red-eyed and hoping that Blaine would shuffle out of bed and tend to Kaitlin, who was calling for them in the way babies do for the third time that night.

"Blaine." He grumbled, "Blaine, wake up."

"Hm?" She responded at last, half-asleep.

"Kaitlin's crying."

"Okay. Can you take care of her?"

"It's the third time tonight...I don't mind, but I've got work in the morning. You don't. Would you?"

"Sure." She yawned and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, rising in her nakedness before draping herself with a thin, flowery robe. Vance fell back into his pillow, staring tiredly up at the ceiling. It was after two in the morning, he'd had less than an hour of sleep, and the alarm was set for seven. For hours, he drifted in and out of sleep until the alarm resounded with a cacophony of bells, the tyranny of sleeplessness forcing him out of the warm sheets. Blaine was still fast asleep and so was the baby, but it wouldn't be long before she would wake and demand to be fed. The dog shuffled into the kitchen in boxer shorts and slippers, grabbed a bottle from the refrigerator and dropped it into the slow cooker. He quietly admonished himself when the gears finally started to turn and retrieved the bottle, placing it in the warmer and heading off for the bathroom.

Vance felt like a zombie, moved like one, and looked about as bad. His hair was sticking out in all directions, and there were bags under his eyes that wouldn't pass for carry-on luggage at the airport. One week of absence from the gym was beginning to take hold of his waistline, and his once-chiseled abs were beginning to smooth over. He didn't know if it was the stress, or just a by-product of his age, but either way, he was beginning to realize why Reid left. He never gave it more than a moment's thought though. Reid left because he was weak. He couldn't hack being a father, so he hit the road in search of greener pastures. The only pasture Vance needed, he decided, was lying in the cherry wood bassinet right there in the bedroom.

"Here you go." He cooed, cradling his newborn daughter in his arms, rocking her gently while he upended the bottle for her to feed on. He found himself smiling, and suddenly, the lack of sleep didn't matter anymore. Blaine stirred in the bed across the room.

"I wish we'd found each other years ago." Vance whispered, looking up at her. She smiled and stretched, sliding out of the bed and walking over to them. She leaned down and kissed her baby on the head, and her husband on the lips.

"I'll make breakfast."

Vance scrubbed shampoo into his short-pile fur, digging deep to get yesterday's grease out of his forearms and wrists. The shower had become a sanctuary for him, a temple of reprieve from everyday life where he could turn off his mind, relax, and leave smelling all too pleasant to boot. He began to miss some of the freedoms he had when he wasn't a father, but as time went on, he missed them less and less. As it were, he was living the American Dream.

Instead of a dress shirt, it was a cotton twill work shirt, patches above the left and right breast pockets bearing 'Vance' (some of his shirts said V-Dog) and 'DPE' respectively. Instead of slacks, it was jeans, and instead of dress shoes, it was Converse All-Star sneakers - a hat tip to a part of his childhood that he never outgrew. Smells from the kitchen beckoned him in, and he entered to see that his wife had prepared a full spread for breakfast, egg whites, sausage, biscuits, jam - his favorite. He ate ravenously, checking his watch constantly to make sure he wouldn't be late getting the shop opened up. Reid was going to be busy.

***

"I'm a Godfather, now." Reid said, smiling back at Dr. Soto with pride as though he'd been bestowed with an award for some kind of gallantry.

"Really? That's wonderful!"

"Vance asked me the night the baby was born. They named her Kaitlin. She's the cutest little fuzzball. Reminded me a little bit of Lucy when she was born."

Dr. Soto glanced at the floor, then back up to him, "Anything new with Lucy at work? I remember you mentioning you were thinking of telling her about your paternity."

"There hasn't been anything since those phone calls we got at that pub that time. I keep thinking that she saw, that she knew that it was her mother calling me. I just think she would have said something if she did."

"Perhaps she feels as though her job or her living situation would be compromised if she did."

"It's possible. I don't know; I just feel so guilty about it. It's just something that I'm going to have to come to terms with, or sack up and tell her." He laughed, "At this rate, it'll be on my deathbed."

Dr. Soto smiled, "What about your relationship status? Have you been seeing anyone lately?"

"No. Not since Erin left me for my brother. I don't fault her for it, though. You know, sometimes I look back and I think it was stupid of me to think that I ever had a shot with Erin."

"Why do you say that?" Dr. Soto asked, setting down her water glass while Reid took a sip from his own.

"Because in retrospect, I look back and I realize that I didn't care as much about the relationship as I cared about not being lonely."

"Are you lonely?"

Reid chewed on his tongue, "I think I'm jealous. To a degree. I don't actively feel lonely when I'm at home by myself, I'd like to think I have a pretty fulfilling life. It's just that when I see couples together, I get a little envious."

Beat.

"I-I mean I'm not busted up over Erin or anything, I just think maybe she wasn't the right woman."

"Was she the wrong woman, or was she the wrong gender?"

Reid wet his lips.

"You display a significant bias toward males. Do you think you'd be better off pursuing a same-sex relationship?"

"I don't know." He responded vacantly.

"Reid, you've already got a leg up on the competition here. You're not lying to yourself. You've accepted yourself for who you are and you've come to terms with your sexuality, and that's a lot more than can be said for some people. That gives you a secret weapon - confidence. Always, always, always give yourself the credit you deserve. You just have to find someone who you're not only attracted to, but who will give you the support and respect that you deserve from a partner."

"Trouble is, every time I find someone, he's already taken." Reid laughed.

"Mm. Like Rigo, right?"

The cattle dog choked on his water.

"Well..."

"You've spoken highly of him in the past."

"Yeah, but that's only because he's such a good boyfriend to my daughter. I mean, he's great. Really, he takes good care of her, he's got prospects, and she seems so happy to be with him that I can't help but like him."

"Hmm." Dr. Soto smiled. Reid frowned at her.

"You know me too well." He grunted, laughed dryly and took another sip of water.

"It's what you pay me for." She winked, "But jokes aside Reid, you are someone who deserves a partner who will treat you as well as I know you'll treat them. I think you know that. You just have to apply it. Be proactive."

Reid could only nod in agreement. Dr. Soto was right. How could she not be? She was a doctor, after all. He always left a session with her feeling a little bit better about himself, but he wondered this time around, was his attraction to Rigo a bad thing? He felt as though he should be ashamed of himself for it, but shame was something he'd shed long ago. He'd gotten further in life without it, he thought.

***

Reid pulled into his usual parking spot up front at the shop, noticing that Lucy's BMW was absent. Noon was approaching, and she should have been there a couple of hours ago. He thought nothing of it - it wasn't uncommon for the employees to park their cars around the back for one reason or another.

First stop - coffee machine. Punctuality was key with Dr. Soto, and the heeler hadn't allowed himself enough time to stop off for a cup of gas station java, resulting in his nearly falling asleep on her couch a time or two. Vance was sitting at one of the tables, glancing at baby pictures on his phone. Reid poured himself a cup, took a sip, and immediately recoiled from the strength of the brew.

"Jesus, Vance, did you make this stuff?"

"Eeyup."

"Why the hell is it so strong?" Reid lifted the cover off the top to see the gratuitous amount of coffee grounds in the filter.

"Because a newborn baby has little to no respect for other people's work schedules." The pit bull laughed and took a hearty swig of strong, black coffee, "Hey, it's not so bad. Puts fur on your pecker."

"Gross. Lucy out back?"

Vance shook his head over his mug, "Mm-mm. I haven't seen her; I was just about to text her, actually."

"That's odd; she's usually here on time or earlier." He glanced at his watch, only to hear the sound of the door chiming a little harder than it usually did. Reid started to head that direction, but he was intercepted by a tearful Lucy, who lunged and threw her arms around him, almost tackling him to the floor while she sobbed into his chest.

"Reid! I'm so sorry I'm late, I didn't get any sleep last night because Rigo got mad at me and left and I think he's going to break up with me and I didn't know what to do so I set my alarm but when I finally fell asleep it was early in the morning and I slept through the alarm and I didn't have time to eat or shower or anything-"

"Whoa, whoa! Slow down, there." Reid said, hugging her and caressing her back, "What's going on, do you want to talk about it?"

She nodded.

"Okay. Let's go somewhere where we can talk, okay?"

They elected to sit in the Nova. Reid piled into the driver's seat and shut the door, and Lucy sank dejectedly into the passenger seat, wrapping her arms around herself while she stared out the window. The cattle dog reached into his back pocket and pulled out a paisley-print bandana, which he handed to her to dry her tears. He understood. After all - she was just a teenage girl.

"What happened?"

"I have a confession to make." She said sadly. Reid curled his fingers awkwardly around the steering wheel, nodding while he stared straight ahead, knowing what he was about to be told.

"I'm...not who I say I am. I'm not really from Tucson. I'm from Texas. Deer Park, actually. Well, on my birth certificate it says Pasadena, but Deer Park's where I grew up."

"I see." That was what Reid said. What he thought was, I know.

"Also, I'm not really twenty-two. I'm only eighteen." She admitted, hanging her head. Tears streamed down her muzzle and landed in her lap, dark spots on her selvedge denim blue jeans. Reid just sat quietly in the cockpit of the race car, drumming his fingers silently on the wood of the steering wheel.

"I understand if you're going to fire me." She said quietly, and received the last response she would ever have expected. Reid actually started to laugh.

"Fire...fire you?" He cackled, "Lucy, you're one of the best employees we've ever had working here in the history of this shop! I've seen guys who worked here for twice as long as you have, and weren't _half_as good as you are!" He professed, managing to coax a small smile out of the girl.

"Really?"

"Yes! No, Lucy, I'm not going to fire you. But I can't help but wonder why you felt like you needed to lie to us about this stuff. It wouldn't have mattered to me or anyone else here."

"It's a long story..." Her voice turned dark again, "Probably more than you want to hear."

"I want to hear it all. Lay it on me. Tell you what, how about we do lunch? I'm sure you're hungry."

Lucy dabbed her eyes with the bandana, "Yeah." She smiled, "I'd like that."

***

They rolled the windows up on the Nova with the old-fashioned hand cranks and stepped out into the hot, Los Angeles afternoon in front of Casa Alma's, Reid's go-to choice for good old fashioned, authentic Mexican comfort food. Also, Hector's mother owned the joint and the guys from Doghouse ate there for free.

"Hello Reid!" Alma Sotelo called, waving from the kitchen. He smiled at her and waved back, taking his usual seat by the window. Lucy sat across from him, looking none too happy. She was no doubt attempting to gather her thoughts in a way that she could adequately describe her childhood to her boss. They placed their drink orders - a Coca-Cola for Reid, Dr. Pepper for Lucy - and she began her tale.

"I don't really know how to begin to tell you about everything I went through back in Texas. I guess...up until I hit the teenage years, it wasn't so bad. I had to deal with Brody off and on, and when he got my Mom pregnant, that's when they got married, kind of like Vance and his wife."

Reid nodded, and thanked the waitress as she set their drinks down. They needn't bother with the menu, he suggested. The fajitas were too good to pass up on a trip to Casa Alma's Mexican Restaurant.

"That's when things started going downhill. Fast. When they were just dating off and on, you know, I'd have to deal with him a couple of nights out of the week. No big thing. But once he was around one hundred percent of the time, things changed."

"How so?"

"Chores became a lot harder. I didn't mind having chores, you know, every kid has to do chores, right? Well, he worked all the time at the refinery in Texas City, so while my Mom was laid up with being pregnant and taking care of two kids after she gave birth to twins, I had to make sure that the house was in order. Dishes. Laundry. Trash. Tending the yard. Brody was absolutely anal about the house being in shape." She sipped at her drink, "'Course he never really contributed to that himself."

Reid didn't like the direction the conversation was going. He knew what kind of guy Brody was, and from the sound of it, Lucy had been a victim of his treachery.

"He'd get home, crack open a beer, and sit in front of the TV. And if the laundry wasn't done and folded, if there were any dirty dishes in the sink, if dinner wasn't made just right...there was hell to pay."

"He'd better not have ever put his hands on you." Reid growled lowly, staring directly at her. She looked up at him, almost concerned. He backed off, realizing how he'd just sounded. Lucy cast her eyes back down to the table; spinning her glass on the top and watching the ice float around in her drink.

"I hate to disappoint you, but yeah. He would punish me if I didn't do things just the way he wanted them done, or quickly enough. He'd take his belt off, and...well you get the picture."

"Sure."

"I've never spoken about this to anyone. Not even Rigo." She said, her eyes glassy and her countenance fraught with sadness, "I may have lost my chance to, now."

"Yeah, what happened there?"

"Last night, he...so I had to get my birth certificate to get my passport so we could go on vacation. Well, I got careless and I left the copy of it lying around, and he found it."

"Ahh."

"Yeah. He left. I don't know where he went, but I haven't heard from him all day."

"Well, maybe he just needs some time to come to terms with what he's found out. I mean, that's kind of a big thing, not so much about where you're from, but you not being twenty-two. Trust is a big thing in a relationship."

"I know. I just really hope he's not going to leave me for good. I really love him, he's the first man in my life that I've ever been able to truly love." She explained wistfully, "And who I feel loves me."

Reid just nodded.

"I think..." She leaned in across the table and spoke in hushed tones, "I think he might be a little...y'know, frustrated."

He cocked his head, "Frustrated? Like how?"

"Like...you know," She looked uncomfortable, "Sexually."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I'm sorry, if that's sort of T-M-I, we don't have to go there."

"No, no, I'm all ears. Whatever you want to talk about, you can talk about it. I'm here to listen and help in any way I can." He raised his hands in surrender to whatever topic of conversation she was willing to bring up. Whatever it was, he was willing to hear it, because in his mind, that's what fathers were supposed to do. Lucy rested her chin in the palm of her hand.

"We've never had sex."

"No?"

"No. I want to. I mean...I have urges just like anyone else does, but..." She trailed off, choking up a little bit, "I've never told anyone about this. No one. I've always been too scared."

Reid felt his stomach drop. He hoped, prayed, and wished that the conversation was not heading where he thought it was headed. Suddenly, he found himself plotting to kill Brody Callison with a punch bowl at their twenty-year class reunion. Lucy, spare me, please...

"I really probably should talk to a shrink, or something. I think I'd find better help in someone who does this professionally, versus burdening you with it."

"You're not a burden, Lucy. I'll gladly listen to anything you have to say, especially if it makes you feel better."

Lucy paused, smiled sadly, and reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

"Thanks Reid."

"I'm sure Rigo's going to be fine. Hell, if you want, I'll see if I can get in touch with him and talk some sense into him. I bet he would like to hear what you've told me today."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. It would really mean a lot to him if you came clean about what's going on, or what went on, as it were. It shows that you trust him, and he'll appreciate that."

"I don't even know where he went." Lucy said, looking out the window as though he would walk up any second.

"Oh, he's probably staying at the hospital. I think they have rooms there for the nurses who work the night shifts. He'll have to come home sometime, I'm sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"But like I said, when you get to see him again, just get everything out there on the table. If you trust him, show him. Tell him the things that you've been holding in. If he loves you, he'll understand. It sounds to me like sex isn't his highest priority anyway, so I'd just put that on the backburner."

"It's not. And I just feel really bad, because we've tried in the past, but I just can't bring myself to do it, I'm-"

She was cut off as the waitress came around with a sizzling platter of fajita meat, beef, chicken, and shrimp on a bed of peppers and onions, steaming hot along with a heaping plate of guacamole salad, pico de gallo, cheese, and sour cream. All that available to be wrapped up in Alma's homemade flour tortillas.

"Compliments of Miss Alma!" She said grinning, and Reid beamed up at her.

"Well, you tell her thank you from us, okay? I'll be back there in a second to say hello."

She nodded and scurried back off to tend to her other tables, and Lucy placed some tortillas on a plate. Once everyone else was sufficiently out of earshot, she leaned forward, obviously blushing as she admitted yet another secret to Reid.

"I'm still a virgin." She said, and Reid simply shrugged. It was oddly satisfying to him as a father to hear that his daughter was not sexually active - he just hoped that was the only reason she'd been abstinent.

"That's not a bad thing. It's good to wait until you're with the right person." He explained over slathering his chicken fajita meat with sour cream, "Do you feel like Rigo is that person?" He was starting to feel like Dr. Soto.

"I do, yeah. And I really want to have that closeness with him, but it's just...scary. For a few different reasons, I mean for one, he's really big down there."

Reid bit his tongue going in for a bite of his fajita, and hard.

"Oh, sorry!" Lucy brought both hands up to her muzzle and covered it while Reid set his food down and used the napkin to dab his tongue and determined that he was indeed bleeding.

"That might have been a little too much..." Lucy said shrinking, but for the first time that day, she was laughing. For that, Reid thought, he could trade a sore tongue and some futile fantasizing.

Awkward as the comment about Rigo's endowment may have been, it served to lighten the mood at the table. Reid was thankful for that at least, and they spent the rest of their lunch talking about far more pleasant things, like Lucy's gear preferences for drumming, and Reid's experiences with various types of cars, several of which Lucy had never even heard of. She bubbled with excitement about the prospects of her future with DPE. It certainly made Reid feel better to know that she was, for at least that moment, not worried about everything that was going on. Still, his confession stayed under lock and key, not ready to issue his guilt.

Lunch was finished on a good note. Reid introduced Lucy to Alma, thanked her for lunch and they headed back out to the Nova. There was plenty to be done and not much time to do it.

At the shop, Vance was pacing around the bays, talking to Blaine on the phone.

"Yeah, I know. Look, I can't come home right now. We're too busy at the shop. You said you already changed her? Have you fed her yet? Okay. Just hold her. She'll cry herself out in a little while. Call me if you need anything, okay? Love you. Bye."

He pocketed his phone just in time to see Reid walking up, Lucy in tow. She passed them without a word and headed straight back into the bays to get her hands dirty.

"What's up?"

"Baby won't stop crying."

"She's a baby. That's what they do."

"Right?" Vance shook his head, "I'm just glad she was born as healthy as she is. I have to admit, I had my doubts."

Reid cocked his head, "Yeah? Why's that?"

"I dunno. Blaine's been acting...funny. Maybe it's just the new-age stuff getting the better of her. It's going to continue for a little while yet, post-partum and all that. You know, I just feel like things just aren't the same anymore."

"Well, you've got some big changes coming your way. You're a dad now. You've got a whole new set of responsibilities to tend to, trust me; it affects the way you look at everything around you. It'll change your whole attitude."

"Yeah. Hey...has Frank been acting funny to you today at all?"

Reid frowned, "No, not really. Haven't spoken to him much. Why?"

"I dunno. He seems more quiet than usual. I wonder if something's bothering him."

"Hm." Reid shot a glance over to the dyno, where Frank was plugging into the OBD2 on a Lexus IS. "He's probably just busy. You know how he gets when he's got a lot to do; one-track mind and all."

"Yeah. Hey, maybe it's just me." The pit bull shrugged. "Sorry ahead of time if I'm a little on edge about shit."

"No worries, dude. It's understandable. If you need my help with something, don't be afraid to ask." Reid slapped him on the back and headed back to his car.

"Thanks, bro. I will."

***

Frank's heart raced as he pulled into the parking lot of Rotgut Rob's, the only four-wheeled vehicle in a sea of motorcycles. Two men standing outside on the front stoop of the bar eyed him suspiciously while he pulled up to an empty spot where his car just happened to fit.

The rat took a deep breath and killed the ignition in his car, pinching the key between his thumb and forefinger for several seconds before pulling it out and stuffing it into his pocket. He opened the door cautiously so as not to hit any of the bikes nearby and stepped out, thankfully not looking too out of place in a work shirt and stained blue jeans.

"Hey pal. Where'd you get that car, box o' Cracker Jacks?" One of the two men in riding leathers quipped, his buddy joining him in a fit of jeering laughter. Frank's better judgment told him to laugh too, so he did, chuckling at the comment while he made double-sure that the car was locked.

Half of him expected the bar to stop in the way it always did in the movies, when the odd, black sheep of a character walks in and even the jukebox goes silent on its own. No, instead, he walked in, and was greeted by no one, only by the clinking of bottles, the crack of billiard balls, and the sorrowful sounds of Hank Williams drifting out from the speakers on the jukebox. He felt as though he'd walked straight out of California and into Texas. Speaking of which, he spied Dallas at the end of the bar, downing a large mug of Milwaukee's best. The cougar used his boot to kick the chair next to him, shoving it out from the bar as a wordless way of asking the rat to sit down. He did. Rotgut Rob himself walked over and demanded to know what he wanted, to which the quivering Frank responded with his beer of choice.

"Didn't think you'd show, honestly." Dallas grunted.

"I'm a man of my word." Frank answered, picking up the mug as soon as the toothless old Alsatian set it down in front of him. The ten thousand dollars was still fresh in his mind, and in his mattress. "What do you need from me?"

"We need someone with access to the property where he works."

"You need me to be an inside man."

"You got it."

"What's your plan?"

"Not so fast. You don't need to be worried about that, that's for us. What I need from you is information. Names, addresses, what he drives, places he frequents, names of his family members, you get the picture." Dallas said, downing several more gulps of beer while Frank sipped timidly at his own.

"Who do you want to know about?"

"He married? Got a wife? Kids?"

"Both, yeah. They just had a baby this week."

"Can you get me inside the auto shop?" Dallas asked, taking a sharp turn in the conversation. Frank felt himself shrink at the question. He didn't have a set of keys to the shop or to the gate.

"I-I can try, yeah."

"Trying isn't going to get anything done. I need security. I need results. You've got ten grand in your pocket to set us up with what we need, and you'd damn well better do it because otherwise we will get that money back, understand?"

Frank nodded, desperately trying to keep his cool and hoping that the beer that he was now practically chugging would calm his nerves.

"There are other ways into the property. It's not easy, but it can be done. Yeah."

"Good. All right, I'll need an address for him as well in case things go south. How quickly can you get that to me?"

"Tomorrow?" Frank said, raising his mug to his lips. Behind him, someone broke the rack of billiard balls. Behind the bar, Rob fixed a few shots of whiskey for his patrons.

"Excellent. Hey, let's drink on it." Dallas said, tapping the bar and smiling, just because he knew it would make the rat even more nervous than he already was. Sure enough, Frank laughed the laugh of a nervous man, and watched as a shot of unfamiliar composition was placed in front of him and three others.

"To John. May he rest in peace." Dallas said forlornly, raising the glass. Everyone around, including Frank, did the same and tossed the glass back. The rat barely swallowed what entered his mouth, a disgusting mixture of grain alcohol, rye whiskey, and what he was pretty sure was jet fuel.

"You get used to it, bub." Dallas clapped him on the back, making him cough and sputter like a dying engine. He nodded in response, and washed his shot down with the last of his beer.

"Is there anything else?" He asked. Dallas' face went from friendly to concern in no time flat.

"What's the matter, you in a rush?"

"No, no, not at all."

"Good. Rob! Another round for my friend, here. We've got quite a lot more ground to cover."

Frank sighed into his second beer as he drank it, and the second round became the third, and the third became the fourth until it was two o'clock in the morning and bikers galore were ripping out of the dirt parking lot on their Harleys, drunk off their asses. The rat stumbled drunkenly out the front door onto the creaking, wooden patio and ambled down the steps to his car. Fumbling with the key fob, he finally managed to get into his car and start it up.

The fog of bikers dissipated with every exit Frank passed until he was practically alone on the highway, speeding down the 210 at nearly double the speed limit. The road twisted nauseatingly in front of him, and the road signs changed before his very eyes. Tired eyes fought to focus on the speedometer, and once he realized how fast he was going, he decided it was better to slow down, lest he get stopped for driving drunk. Letting off the gas and applying the brakes, he moved to downshift, but in his drunken haze, he overshot fourth gear and threw it into second.

In a matter of a few bone-chilling seconds, the RPM's skyrocketed, and the rat nearly lost control of the vehicle before he stomped the clutch back in and shifted into an appropriate gear, regaining control of the vehicle just in time to slam headlong into the front of an oncoming Peterbilt semi at seventy-five miles per hour.