AUTHOR: Trent Grey

DISCLAIMERS: I don't own either of these two characters. Jennifer is an original character, but I just needed a name to insert. (shrug) I made no money off of this, nor do I intend to.

WARNINGS: Slash. Mention of guys possibly doing something sexual.

RATING: PG? There’s no hanky-panky, but it’s vaguely alluded to?

FANDOM: Law & Order

PAIRING: Lennie Briscoe/Mike Logan

FEEDBACK: Pretty please? bianki@hotmail.com

NOTES: It's a songfic based on Sugar Ray's "Answer the Phone". If you'd like the lyrics, then ask and ye shall receive. Also, this is a fan add-on to Michele Lellouche's LB/ML universe. It's not really part of her canon unless she says so. I just happen to like her plans for the guys. ^_^

Do It Again
by Trent Grey

It was well after midnight when Mike Logan opened the door to his apartment and stumbled in. It had been a long night for everyone at the 3-4, what with the double-shifts and all of the paperwork that he and his partner Jennifer had had to play catch-up with. Right now, though, Mike was just happy to be back home, and he wanted to sleep like the dead.

Holster and cuffs followed his leather overcoat, black and green plaid tie on top of it all on the kitchen counter. He had half a mind to stumble to his room and fall into bed, but habit made him wander over to the answering machine, a hand running through his thick, black hair absently as he looked at the beat-up machine.

One call. He stabbed at the playback button. Lisa wanted to get together again, maybe for lunch on Saturday, if Mike wasn't too busy? With a dark scowl, he stabbed the delete button, feeling almost absurdly smug when the machine confirmed that yes, the offending message had been deleted. It was bad enough that he almost felt guilty about sleeping with her; he definitely wasn?t in the mood to deal with women who were interested in the long-term. His blank expression dissipated into a dark thundercloud when he realized that Lennie hadn't called. It was beginning to look like he wasn't planning on it anytime soon. And if Lennie wasn't going to call, that meant Mike was going to have to call *him*.

Normally, Mike wouldn't be so worried about Lennie not calling. Lennie was still in Homicide at the 2-7, working himself like a dog, and most nights, the older detective would be more than happy just to hit the sack and not wake up until next week.

However, last Saturday, the two of them had been at Lennie's place after Mike had called, asking if Briscoe wanted some company, and ... well, things happened. Things that they had promised themselves they wouldn't do when they broke it off with each other. Things that Mike really wasn't regretting at this moment. If Mike knew his old partner as well as he did, then Briscoe wasn't regretting it either.

It seemed like they were always trying to fight themselves and each other about this. Mike still wasn't sure exactly why Lennie had wanted to break it off, but he didn't protest too much when it happened. And now that they were apart, all they wanted to be is back together again, and while Mike was back in Manhattan, he wasn't back at the 2-7, and things couldn't go back to the way they were before that incident with Councilman Crossley.

There were times when Mike wanted to be able to be alone for one night and not need to have Lennie next to him, not need to hear the quiet snores from the man curled around him; Lennie seemed to be doing just fine on the surface. But if that were the case, why did Saturday night happen the way it did?

He shook his head, ignoring the question his rational side asked. Lennie didn't *need* him. The old bastard could sleep around with a whole slew of girls and not miss him for one night. Mike wanted to feel independent from him, be alone once in a while without it feeling like he was being ripped apart by the silence. And yet, when they were together, it was like coming home, and Mike wasn't exactly sure how he felt about that.

Mike glared at the answering machine one more time before stumbling into the bedroom and falling on top of his unmade bed like he'd been thinking about when he came in. His right arm flung itself out over the other half of the bed, with his left dangling over the side, and after a moment of being face-down in his pillow, he turned his head to the empty half.

//This bed is much too big without me and you.//

Mike blinked at the thought that had popped into his head. It was part of a song that had been on the radio on his drive home, but it felt eerily relevant.

It was nuts, anyway. Lennie was driving him nuts. First, they can't keep their hands off each other, and then they have to break up. They want to be together, but they can't be. What kind of logic was that? Was Mike the only person who thought that line of thinking was incredibly stupid? According to Jennifer, this kind of thing was supposed to lift you up, not fling you into the pavement. And yet, here Mike was, spitting out nails and concrete, and wondering what the hell happened to them.

Mike heaved a deep sigh, and flipped himself over onto his back and turned to look at the nightstand that stood next to his bed. A few weeks ago, he'd bought a second phone and hooked it up in his bedroom. It seemed to be calling to him, and his right hand plucked it up and brought it to his ear without him realizing it had happened.

For a long moment, he lay there listening to the dial tone, the moonlight spilling onto the rumpled bedsheets and the drab-colored floor. What was he going to say as soon as Lennie picked up, if the detective even did?

Lennie would pick up. He always did. Granted, he wouldn't be the happiest person in the world after midnight, but he always picked up. It was just a matter of what to say to him.

It didn't occur to Mike that he'd been having this conversation with himself for the past four days, mentally preparing himself as if he were supposed to go on the stand as a witness.

"I want you back," Mike said to the dial tone.

Nah, that sounded corny. They were both guys; they could be blunt with each other. After working together for three years, if Logan couldn't tell his old partner anything, what good was it to be in a relationship with him? He took a fortifying breath.

"I wanna screw you through the mattress."

.... No, that didn't work either. Dammit.

"Last Saturday wasn't a mistake."

Hey, that sounded good. Now, he was getting somewhere.

Before he realized that his fingers were acting independently of his brain again, dialing Lennie's number from sense memory, the phone was ringing on the other end. Mike unconsciously held his breath.

Ring. Ring.

Lennie always picks up, he reminded himself. Even if it's after midnight, he'll pick up.

Ring. Ring.

Mike frowned. Usually, Lennie got it in four rings...

Ring. Ring.

"Lennie." He spoke out loud, his voice sounding almost as tired as he felt. "Pick up."

Ring. Ring.

"C'mon, Lennie, answer the phone. I know that you're there. Pick up."

Ring. Ring.

Mike gritted his teeth, feeling himself very tempted to see if he could strangle Briscoe through the phone.

"Dammit, Lennie, answer the phone... I *know* that you're home! Don't make me say the obvious, dammit. It IS obvious, isn't it? You haven't called in four days because you want to imagine it didn't happen. Well, it *did*, and ya wanna know something else? I WANT it to happen again. I want you BACK. I want *US* back. So, pick up already!"

When his outburst wasn't answered by a ring, Mike paused. There was a long silence on the other end.

And that meant...

Shit.

"Lennie?"

"Yeah, 'm here." Lennie's voice poured over Mike like dark honey over the phone, causing Mike to shift around on his bed. He was really trying not to let that voice distract him, but memories came unbidden of hearing that bedroom-voice during hot sex, and it was understandably difficult to keep his attention focused on the man on the other end. Seeing Lennie's sleepy expression in his mind's eye wasn't really helping him out, either.

"I... guess you heard, then." Mike said lamely and winced. Kettle, Pot on line two...

"Yeah, I did." Lennie probably didn't realize how much of an effect that voice had on Mike, or else he would've quit using it. Then again, maybe Lennie *did* know, and was using it on purpose to push Mike's buttons.

"So... you up for some company?"

END