David kept it for him. It said so much about them as a team. .
.as partners. . .as friends. Colby Granger wanted – no, needed,
more than anything – to talk to his friend, to thank him for
keeping the small token of his heritage safe for him. That his
friend hadn't tossed it away meant far more to Colby than it
seemed to mean to everyone else. He doubted they understood his
feelings about this one small action. It meant that no matter
how David had felt over the course of the revelations resulting
from the Janus list, and the Chinese spying case, David never
lost faith in him, not altogether. Leastwise, that was how Colby
saw it, how he felt it.  They hadn't really talked yet, not the
way they needed to. They were on their way back to being
partners, of that there could be no denying. And man did it feel
good. This last case, a disturbing one that found them finally
capturing the man killing people the way Jesus' disciples had
died, had showed them both that they could work together, even
as they ignored the f