Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, just like them a lot.

They had nothing to say to each other. For his part, Mark was simply too furious to discuss it and drive the dark highway at the same time. He'd already had a long day, very little rest, and almost no food. He'd been questioned and intimidated by the police for hours and was simply not in the mood to deal with Hardcase at that moment. The silence had lasted the whole ride home from the station and Mark could tell the Judge was equally mad. It burned that the judge hadn't even for a moment considered the possibility that he may have been innocent. It was obvious the older man thought he was guilty despite Mark's original promise that he hadn't been involved... at least not directly.

He'd mentioned the warehouse location to a few of his less savoury street contacts in an effort to get things moving and stir up the pot a little, but he hadn't intended quite the level of action that had resulted. The warehouse was a front for the very illegal pursuits of one of the stars in Hardcastle's files and Mark had intended only to shake the tree and see what fell out. It wasn't his fault the police had discovered him and a number of stolen cars in close proximity and had jumped to conclusions.

Once it had become apparent the judge didn't believe he hadn't stolen the cars, Mark had gotten angry and refused to elaborate or explain himself further to Hardcastle. The only witness to the warehouse break-in hadn't identified him, which made sense since it wasn't actually he who had done it. Still, he'd been a little worried during the line-up.

That witness had looked entirely too eager to identify someone; he was one of those over eager citizens who wanted to do their bit regardless of truth. Mark had been seriously worried when the witness had asked for both him and number three to step forward for a closer look. In the end the witness had given a firm positive identification for the other man, who happened to be a police officer. With no other solid evidence, they'd had to release him.

Mark glanced at the judge. Would it kill him to just believe me? It wasn't like he had a history of lying to the judge. From time to time he'd stretched the truth a little and on occasion he'd had reason to leave out certain facts, but it wasn't like he'd ever straight out lied. After nearly six months of working together and watching his back you'd think the guy could cut him some slack.

When he thought about it, Mark knew the judge had actually gone soft on him. If Hardcastle really believed he had committed the thefts he didn't need evidence. The judge had the power to throw his butt back into the pen on simple suspicion alone. The fact that Hardcastle hadn't chosen to exercise that right was a kindness. If he was honest with himself it did look bad. He was found at the scene, the warehouse was full of high-priced stolen cars, and he was dress in solid black clothing. Mark knew his criminal history with similar cars didn't help.

Milton caught the sigh and furtive glance McCormick sent his way and had to bite his tongue. He didn't want to fight with the kid anymore, they had done enough of that at the station for one night, but he hadn't been this angry since those few difficult weeks when McCormick had first come to live at Gulls way. Neither had been really sure what to expect from the other in those early days and mistakes had been made on both sides. Milton had thought that time passed. Apparently not.

Most of his anger was fear. He liked the kid, and could see his potential, but it was stupid stunts like this that were going to get the young man put back inside. He'd been lucky this time. The only witness to the crime had been an elderly man with poor eyesight. But he'd seen well enough to see a white Ferrari pull up to the warehouse, a tall curly headed man get out and open the warehouse door. Milton had felt his heart seize in his chest when the witness had called McCormick forward, then his temper had flared. Until then he'd almost believed the young man when he'd said he was innocent.

McCormick had claimed he'd only been watching the warehouse, looking for a lead or an approach so they could nail the warehouse owner, a man featured prominently in one of his files. A man who been running a number of illegal operations for years but managing to stay one step ahead of the law every time they got close.

Even if the young man were telling the truth it had been stupidly dangerous to go by himself, and Hardcastle had felt his heart drop in disappointment. The thought crossed his mind that Mark had never outright lied to him before but then the other man hadn't been in quite this situation before either. It would have done the ex-con no good at all to admit to his crime. Hardcastle would have had no choice but to have ended their unusual parole arrangement and McCormick would have found himself back in a cell. Something neither of them wanted.

The judge took his own sideways glance at the man sitting next to him. McCormick was concentrating on his driving, his face set, but it wasn't set with guilt or even relief at having escaped a prison term. There was anger there and a little sadness. Not what you would expect to see on the face of a guilty man.

Maybe I've been a little hasty?There was evidence that pointed to McCormick but it was all circumstantial evidence, much of it McCormick had offered explanations for and the witness hadn't identified the kid. Maybe he really wasn't guilty, at least of theft. There was however clear and solid proof the kid was guilty of blatant stupidity. What did the young idiot think he was doing there working a case alone?

He'd nearly gotten himself arrested this time; next time he could get his fool-self killed. Later, when they were both a little calmer, Milton knew he was going to have another long talk with his junior partner.

Mark pulled up in his customary spot just to the side of the house and pulled himself out of the car and the judge did the same.

Both stood there for a long moment, really not wanting to discuss the night's events but neither wanting to leave things the way they were. Hardcastle couldn't ever remember feeling this uncomfortable in McCormick's presence and he didn't like it.

Hardcastle glanced at his watch and then over to Mark. "The Searchers is about to start, wanna watch?"

A dozen possible smart-mouthed replies flashed through Mark's mind, but in the end he simply shrugged, then let the anger go. "Any popcorn left?"

"Yeah, and there's some leftovers if you're hungry."

"Starved."

Neither man was under any illusion that the argument had been settled but for now there was a truce between them.

Finita