Page 23 of The Barn: Frost and Q

Eighteen

Q watched the wind patterns and the fire patterns as they moved along the West Coast. That was showing up on one screen.

Another screen had security queued. A third screen had some spreadsheets and an inventory sheet he needed to cross-check.

There was a screen playing an X-rated movie, and the last screen had dog food advice because he didn’t want Yukon to get fat, but he didn’t want to starve him either.

That recommended amount of food on the bag seemed utterly outrageous, and he was going to do this right.

Still, he didn’t love the wind patterns that were going on in California. He didn’t wanna bother anybody, not yet, because he wasn’t sure.

But his gut said things were a little hinky.

It really wasn’t his business anymore.

Oh, fuck that. It was totally his business.

Frost was his business. He was going to wait until he knew, and also he wanted to know where Frost was in comparison to the fire line.

He had a locator on the man. It wasn’t a secret that Frost carried it, either.

One of the things that he loved about his husband was that the man trusted Quentin’s gut and trusted him to be able to get him out of shit situations when things hit the fan.

There was a knock on his door, and he checked the camera, then let Boone in. “Hey, man.”

“Hola. Yukon. Buddy.” Boone scratched Yukon’s ruff and glanced at the screens. “Dude, look at the size of that dildo.”

“I know, right? I’m trying to figure out how he could ever recover from that. It’s kind of fascinating.” Not that he was really watching. It was just something interesting to look away from everything else and see. It reset his brain.

“Don’t get that dog food. I don’t think that it’s very well made. I’ll send you the one I think that I’m going to buy when I get my dog.”

Q blinked at Boone. “You’re going to get a dog?”

He got a glare. “Of course I’m going to get a dog.

There’s a Saint Bernard at the shelter who I’m picking up in a few weeks.

Especially now that there’s going to be people who take care of the dogs.

I personally think this is fabulous. You know how cool it is that we live in a universe where I can hire subs to just walk my fucking dog?

And I don’t even have to do anything. I could just say, ‘boy, walk my dog.’ This is like heaven. ”

Boone needed to get laid. Or have a really intense scene.

“All right, you sit. What did you come up here for?”

Boone shrugged. “I don’t have anything better to do, really. Carson’s grumpy. Tug’s gone. I thought I’d come hang out up here and watch dirty movies with you.”

“Uh-huh.” Right. He believed that bullshit. “Frost made you promise to come keep me company, didn’t he?”

“Oh, yeah. But I would have done it anyway, you know? But yeah, he made me promise. He said you would just watch the cameras obsessively and guess what you’re doing—watching cameras obsessively.”

Q rolled his eyes, pushing back in his chair so that he didn’t have to crane his neck to watch Boone’s face. “That’s in my job description. Obsessive Camera Watcher. Like literally—it is in my paperwork write-up.”

Boone kind of blinked at him. “Really?”

“Yep. I mean, I wrote my job description. I should know what’s in it.”

“Do I have a job description?”

He was not going to laugh. Not. Notty not not. “You do. Your job description is…well, I don’t know. What do you do?”

This could be fun.

“Well, I guess I deal with problems. I chase off a lot of bears, and anytime anybody needs anything, I seem to be the one that they call.”

“Well, there you go. You’re like Chief Operations Officer, the COO.” He dragged out the ‘o’s so Boone grinned, plopping down on the sofa.

“What’s Frost?”

“Chief Financial Officer, CFO.” This was easy. “And Carson, CEO, he’s executive, he’s totally the suit.”

“What about Tug?”

“He’s the CBO.”

“Chief Business Officer?” Boone guessed, and Quentin shook his head.

“Try again.”

“Chief Bullshit Officer.”

That answer had Q applauding. Folks thought Boone was stupid, just a slow good old boy. Not even close. “Oh, I like that one, but I was thinking more Chief Bull Riding Officer. I think bullshit officer is even better. I mean, honestly, what does Tug do?”

“He brings in money, and he goes out and about and rides bulls and brings in famous people.” That answer had obviously been on the tip of Boone’s tongue.

“So he would be like the CRO, the Chief Recruitment Officer.”

“And you?”

Q nodded. “I’m head of security. I don’t want to be an officer; I work for a living.”

“You are a weird, weird little man.”

“I know; it’s okay with me, though.” Q blew out a hard breath. “I miss Frost.”

“Yeah, I bet. You just got used to having him back full-time, and now he’s off and saving the world.” Boone tilted his head, blinked at him. “Do you miss it? Saving the world, I mean.”

“I never saved the world. Never wanted to. I periodically saved the lives of a few firefighters.” He shrugged, looking down at the floor.

“You know I don’t… I don’t know. I try not to think about whether I miss it, because what does it matter?

I can’t do it. Seems like a waste of energy.

Definitely a waste of time. I miss not being Frost’s partner out there.

I miss not being in the thick of things and knowing I can help. That bugs the fuck out of me.”

“Well, he’s got people now to do it, you know that. They’ve got to be good at their jobs.”

“They’re not as good as I am.” He knew that. He knew that because he loved Frost. He didn’t want to have to worry, but God knew he did. He was worrying his ass off.

“How can I help?”

Just be Boone. That helped. “Hang out up here. Order some tater tots and grab me that paperwork off the printer. I want to check some of these wind patterns.”

“Hang out, tater tots, paperwork, I’m on it.” Boone stood and kissed his temple. “He’s going to be fine.”

Q rolled his eyes. “He’d better be. I didn’t survive being shot in the head for nothing.”

Boone stopped short, and Yukon damn near took out his ass. “You survived because you’re a stud. You survived for you. That’s one of the reasons that Frost loves you so much. You are a dogged son of a bitch.”

The words hit him, directly in the chest, and he tried to breathe around them. “I’m trying so hard,” he admitted. “I want to do it right, to figure this whole thing out.”

“You did. You’re doing it. You’re not trying.

You’re figuring it out. Frost is proud of you.

Hell, we all are. I can’t… I can’t imagine how I’d do it.

I know I would, like I would figure it out just like you figured it out.

Or at least you know, I would figure it out in my own way. But it’s hard to imagine.”

“I keep telling myself I’m lucky. I’m lucky I did this thing. I survived it. I came back, I’m even walking pretty good. Most of the time. It could have been so much worse.” The words tasted like dust in his mouth, still.

“Jesus, I bet you get tired of thinking that and hearing it. I would. I’d been tempted to bite somebody. In fact, every time somebody says it to you, I kind of want to bite them.”

“That’s why we’re friends. Because every time somebody says it, I kind of want to bite them. I don’t feel lucky sometimes. And I don’t want to have to be grateful all the time. Once in a while, I just want to wallow in my own crapulence.”

“Wallow away, man, I give no shits. I don’t care. Frost isn’t here. We’ll eat tater tots and dip them in ranch or cheese.” Boone’s eyes lit up. “Oh, we could get chili cheese tater tots.”

“Dude, I do love a chili cheese tater tot. Can we get a double order?”

Boone arched one eyebrow. “We’re the bosses. We can have whatever we want. That’s why we work twenty hours a day—so that we can literally have everything we want.”

“Rock on, rock lobster.” He held out his hand for the printout. “Let’s get this done.”