Part 3

WARNING: Slash

The ride to Area 51, a local gay bar, was awkward. Michael could tell that Kyle and Max weren't really comfortable with what they were about to do, but he couldn't find an easy way to convince them it would all work out okay. They probably didn’t want to hear that from someone who was only going to observe from a van. It didn't help any that every time Kyle looked at Sean he would get all broody again.

Partners. There was so much they shared. It was more than a brotherhood. It was almost a marriage. Some police officers trusted their partners more than their spouses. Kyle had lost Jack Hardy, his best friend for life, and Sean wasn’t an easy replacement. There was too much about Sean that Kyle didn’t know or understand.

Kyle perked right up once they got inside the bar. There was a good-sized dance floor and the music blaring from the speakers was a combination of Latin and pop. He smiled and looked around at all the couples dancing together, and at the various men looking to meet someone. It had been a long time since Sean had been here. It felt like coming home. He didn't have to hear Michael on the mike in his ear to know Michael was paying close attention. Sean turned and aimed his blinding smile on his partner to make up for earlier slights.

"Isn't this great?"

"Yeah, great," Kyle said over the din of the club. It was obvious that Sean was jammin’ to the scene and that no matter what he thought of the place it wouldn't matter to him.

"C'mon! Give it a chance. You want a soda or something? My treat."

"Since when do you treat?" Kyle asked thinking that there was no place in his leather pants for a teaspoon of liquid, and he was damned if he was going to take a piss in this place. Max bumped into Kyle from behind. “Hey, what’s your damage Evans?”

“Someone just grabbed my ass!” Max whispered hotly in Kyle’s ear. Max’s anger took another hit when he heard his partner’s laughter in his ear come over the mike. Michael Guerin. Hate.

"All the more reason to accept when I offer, man." Sean said to Kyle about the drink. Looking at Max, Sean leaned in taking a fist of Max’s shirt and pulling him close so their lips almost touched. “You’re gay, so lighten the attitude. Men come here to be groped not to display maiden virginhead. Get with the program and limp the wrist.”

"Okay, get me a juice then. Get Evans something alcoholic!" Kyle smiled as he watched his partner squeezing through the throng around the bar. Kyle looked at Max’s dark face and teased him. “Damn Evans, we’re gonna have to feed you six packs to get you loosened up and bending over.”

“See this,” Max asked as he waved a finger at Kyle. “You know where you can take this.”

Without a description of the suspects, they didn't have much to go on. Max looked around the bar, trying to see if anyone was acting suspiciously. He'd never had a problem with same-sex couples but it was still somewhat jarring when he saw a couple in the corner playing tonsil hockey, obviously not worrying that they were in a public place. Jarring, but arousing nonetheless. He ran his fingers under the neck of his shirt and turned to look for Sean and his damn drink. Kyle finally spotted his partner at the bar, chatting away with the bartender. Kyle noticed three other Vice cops and motioned their positions to Max. The gaybashing outside this club and others was reaching an incredible level, and the victims refused to press charges or help the police. It looked to be a gang of bashers, but last week it had taken a deadly turn when a severely beaten man died from kidney failure.

Kyle couldn't focus, not with the sight of Sean flirting with a man right in front of him. Max just stood there rooted to the spot, watching Sean too. It seemed like an eternity until Sean walked towards them carrying cola, an orange juice, and imported sparkling water. Sean’s brow just raised at the two out of place Detectives and he grabbed a table, placing their drinks on it. They needed to loosen up.

"What took you so long?" Max growled.

"Just seeing what I could find out from Jimmie.”

"And what did you learn from Jimmie? The secret of making a really dry martini?" Kyle asked bitterly. What was his problem?

"I already know that secret. Don’t bruise the gin and use good vermouth, shaken not stirred. However, I did find out that the shift changes at nine thirty, and the place picks up in hardcore. It was after the nine thirty turnaround that the real bashings happened. This is only one of three places that have been targeted. Oh, and Jimmie said to let him know if you need the head. He’ll let you use the staff's private facilities so no one...you know...checks out your head."

"That's almost an hour away!" Max's head was already hurting from the noise and bright lights. What the hell was with all the neon crap? Michael was in the van having a merry old time eating pizza and drinking himself sick on cherry coke. Max looked over at another table to see a large skinhead sticking out his studded tongue suggestively while running his hand down his body to grip his erection hard. Michael Guerin. Hate him.

"That's about the size of it. C'mon, man, lighten up. At least pretend you're enjoying yourself or they'll never believe you came here by choice. Relax a little."

"We're on duty, Sean." Max said sourly.

"I'm not suggesting you forget that, I'm just saying you'll be more believable if you at least pretend to be having fun. I know this isn't exactly your kind of place, but it could be a lot worse."

"I suppose," Max muttered, chugging his coke and wondered why Kyle got juice.

"Take it easy on that. That drink cost me 2 bucks!"

"I'll buy the next round." Kyle said sucking his OJ through a straw. Kyle was surprised when he looked around and saw some men watching him. Frowning as he looked down at the straw he was sucking on, Kyle spit it out. Oh sh-it!

"Promises, promises. Partner! You keep working on that straw and all your drinks are going to be paid for, just make sure that the price doesn’t include you. You better stay close to me, my little cabbage. You stink of fresh meat."

Kyle couldn't stop the movement of red up his neck. “I thought I looked real seasoned in all the leather and tattoos.” Sean just laughed at his vanilla partner and the equally uncomfortable Max.

“Right. Just don’t drink anything not given to you by the bartender, Jimmie or me. That includes you too, Max.”

Max stopped surveying the room and dance floor. “Why?”

Sean made eye contact with a man across the room and smiled. “I’ll be right back. Behave.”

“Sean! Why?”

Sean stopped and looked back at Max. “You don’t think date rape drugs are used on women exclusively, do ya?” Both Kyle and Max looked at each other, and then at their drinks. Great. Just great.

Kyle studied Sean as they sat at the table drinking slowly, trying to make their drinks last. He could see that his partner was raring to go, all that nervous energy busting to get loose. He couldn't help but notice all the attention that he and Max were getting from the unattached men by the bar. Max was what people used to call "easy on the eyes," especially tonight. The eyeliner brought out the finer more feminine lines of his face. Kyle’s frown increased as he watched Sean leaning over the other man he had backed up against a wall. Suddenly Sean leaned and kissed the man passionately with lots of tongue, and the man’s hands were all over Sean.

“What the hell!” A shocked Kyle looked at an equally intrigued Max. “Was that part of the assignment? No one told me I would have to kiss a man.” Max just shook his head. No clue.

They watched as Sean pulled away and whispered in the man’s ear leading him out on the crowded dance floor full of gyrating bodies. Max was amazed that Sean could move at all, with pants that tight. Worried that someone might approach Kyle or him, Max reached out and grabbed Kyle's arm. The feel of the sinfully soft skin of Kyle’s forearm against his fingertips sent a jolt through him. He gave Kyle a quick pat and pushed him away. This assignment sucked. First Tess, who told him he was lacking an assertiveness she wanted or expected whatever the hell that meant, dumped him. Now watching men making out was arousing him. Aroused enough to find Kyle attractive and Sean sexy. Kill him now! The next thing he knew he would start having dreams about him joining his partner and Maria in a threesome.

"What's up? See something?" Kyle asked when Max grabbed him and then pushed him away.

"Just making sure I don't have to come to your rescue later tonight."

"Huh?"

"Dark brown hair, black leather jacket at 2 o'clock."

"You're kidding? He was checking me out? I must look better than I thought." Kyle preened and smiled. This wasn’t so bad. It was just acting.

"Kyle!" Max couldn’t believe he was the uptight one. Kyle, Roswell redneck of old, was checking out the men around him with a pouty red mouth.

"What? Look at that guy! He could have pretty much whomever he wanted with looks like that. You done with your drink?"

"Yeah."

"Good, let's dance."

"I told you I'm not going to dance with you."

"Come on! I'm bored, we have the time, and it will make us less conspicuous," Kyle wheedled as he tried to drag Max off his stool to the dance floor.

"There is no way I can dance to this."

“That’s okay, pigeon. I can.” Kyle looked up to see his smiling partner. Sean.

“Thought you were busy,” Kyle motioned with his head towards the boytoy Sean had been dancing and kissing.

“I was, and now I’m not. That’s Williams. He was the early shift, but he needs to get home. His wife just had a baby and she has some major postpartum stuff going down.”

Kyle leaned into the table with Max. “He’s Vice!” Kyle whispered in a loud stage voice.

“Say it louder, partner. Yeah, he’s Vice. His brother owns the club, and is a pitcher to the clan. Williams has a personal stake in this. If we don’t close down this basherfest his brother might lose his business.”

“You kissed him!” Max said. No way he would ever kiss Michael. Well besides the fact that Guerin would rip off his head and spit down his throat if he tried, not to mention having to deal with a pissed off Maria.

“Yeah, well it’s just a kiss, not a marriage proposal. No big. Come on partner, I’ll teach you a dirty bump and grind.” Sean pulled Kyle with him, but looked back at Max. “Hey, Max, he did say that you look totally f-uckable though.” Sean laughed at the outraged look on Max’s face as he made his way to the dance floor with Kyle in tow.

"Sean..." Max looked around at the men checking him out. Dammit, how could they leave him alone! This was Michael’s fault for being in the van.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Max looked up to say no into the eyes of Jonathan Stiller.

“Mr. Stiller?” The man smirked and nodded. Max had met him a few times through Maria.

“Mind if I join you?” Max didn’t know what to say so he nodded yes. Max could hear Michael sputtering in the mike. ‘What the hell was he doing there? Jonathan Stiller is gay?’

“I, um...” Max was speechless when Jonathan put a bottle of Pellengrino sparkling water in front of him.

“Don’t worry. The cap is still sealed. You’re safe.” Jonathan took the cap off his water. “I noticed you from the bar. You look...uncomfortable.”

Max opened the bottle and took a drink. Damn right he was uncomfortable! He was dressed like a buttboy, and people were sizing him up for a quick slam up against a wall! Peeling the label from the bottle he looked at Jonathan Stiller nervously.

“You come here often?” Smooth Evans, you’re a loser. Max heard Michael’s voice in his ear echoing his own assessment. ‘Loser.’

“No. Not really.” Jonathan tipped his bottle towards a stylish man busy chanting up a young man across the room. “That’s my roommate from college. He’s visiting. It’s been a really bad time for him. He just broke up with his last lover, so he talked me into taking him on a bar crawl.” They watched as Jonathan’s friend lean into the younger man in a kiss with his hand going down the front of the other man’s pants.

“He looks crushed.”

“Yeah, brutalized.” Jonathan laughed at Max’s face. “So what are you doing hanging in a gay bar, Detective?” asked Jonathan in a lower tone just for Max.

“I’m, um...”

“Never mind. I can’t see the Neanderthal presence of Guerin, but I swear I can feel him. My balls shrank up into my body in fear of a pounding as soon as I entered the establishment. That usually either means my ex-wife or Guerin.” Max laughed at that. Michael’s dislike of Jonathan was notorious, and somehow Jonathan took it in stride and joked about it. Michael’s response wasn’t that pleasant. ‘Neanderthal?! Bash the limp dick, girlfriend-hogging bastard! Bring him outside and I’ll let you get a few in too.’

“It’s complicated.”

“I understand. It can be. So I’ll just sit here and chat you up, stare longingly in your eyes like a man on the make, and you can scope the room. Deal?”

“Deal.” Max liked this man. He reminded him of Maria in some ways. He was fast, intelligent, and intuitive. “I owe you.” ‘A beating, pansy ass...’ Max tuned Michael out.

“We’ll call it even for now. I don’t really feel like fielding any offers myself, but until ‘Spud’ finds himself other amusement, I can’t take a powder and go find something more entertaining to do.” Max looked over at Jonathan’s friend and noticed him chatting up yet another man. This could be a long process. Sean and Kyle were having an outrageous time on the floor, but Max noticed that they were working all the edges, and Sean without looking obvious, was scanning the scene with deadly intent.

“What would be more interesting or entertaining than this?” Max watched Jonathan lift his bottle in the air, and magically a bartender appeared with two fresh ones. “And how did you do that?”

“Entertaining would be tonight’s ballgame, and my cell phone. The bar thing is a lesson in how money talks in all stratums of society.” Jonathan looked around spotting a few more out of place people. Cops. It was a convention. “So tell me, Detective...”

“Max.”

Jonathan smiled. Yes, Max. It suited him. “Max. Do you think you’re still in love with Maria DeLuca?” Max coughed on his water, as the sputtering of Michael’s voice sounded in his ear.

“Excuse me?” Max cursed under his breath. It was an unspoken fascination problem. Michael knew, and it had driven him crazy at first, but over time Michael calmed down to realize that it was more Max’s problem and didn’t really involve him and Maria.

“Well...” Jonathan concentrated on his drink.

“Did Maria say something, or...Michael?” Max had to ask even with Michael listening in on the conversation.

“Hardly. Maria would never mention something like that to anyone, and Guerin and I don’t have that type of relationship. Our interactions work best with me being a source of irritation for him.”

Max nodded. “You’re definitely that. So how...”

“Let’s just say that the few times I met you in the company of DeLuca and Guerin, I noticed how you treat Maria and how you watch her.” Max swallowed. He could hear Michael’s reaction to that. Max never realized he was that obvious. “There is a special tone you use, and the looking into her eyes. I realized that you would die for her.”

“I would.” Max said quietly.

“Well, I would probably do the same. So should we discuss our eternal fascination with one Maria DeLuca or will that cause Detective Guerin to eat his mike or rush in here to beat us to a bloody pulp?” Jonathan laughed, as Max became aware that Jonathan somehow knew Michael was privy to their conversation.

“Sorry, we’re working.”

“I know. No problem. Should I leave you to get on with it?”

“No. That’s okay. I would rather not be left alone in this...place”

“I think the term is meat factory.” Jonathan waved for the bartender. “Let’s step this up. I’m assuming alcohol is off the menu for you, so how about something cola like?” Jonathan ordered drinks when the bartender showed up after Max nodded an acceptance of the drink.

Watching his team while Jonathan was busy. Max noticed Kyle dancing with three men at once. Slut. Set him on a dance floor and he was out of control. Max was shocked. He hadn’t realized Kyle could dance anything but a two-step. Sean had disappeared, but suddenly Max saw him circling the floor checking out conversations and people along the way, stopping to talk to some person, sipping their drink, laughing and then moving on. He made it seem so natural and easy.

“Max.” Jonathan called his name to get his attention back. Max was surprised to see a touch of irritation move across the man’s face. Evidently Jonathan liked having undivided attention. Max looked at the man in speculation. He was wealthy, meticulous, and controlling.

“So when did you find yourself fascinated with our lovely Maria?” Max turned the tables on the man, and noticed that Michael was silent. He obviously wanted to know how much he needed to worry about the man. It seemed like a golden opportunity to grill him. The things he did for his partner...

“The moment I met her, of course. Most people feel the charisma. It’s hard to resist.” Max nodded and looked over at Sean working the room. Those DeLuca’s had a charm that was undeniable. “But it took me longer to realize what it was.”

Max turned his attentions back on Jonathan. “What?”

“It was the fact that she is oblivious to her effect on others. It is like needing attention, which she doesn't give until suddenly...Bam! You are under her direct regard. Maria is like a light, a beacon in the dark, or a proverbial eternal flame. She exudes life and living, and for those of us lost in the dark she is an undeniable attraction, almost a salvation.”

“It’s like basking in the warmth after living in the cold for so long.” Max said quietly. He remembered what it was like. Michael, Isabel and he were wandering without real purpose, just barely surviving, and suddenly she smiled and it just felt better. Then watching Michael’s entire life change by being with her, it was hard not to wish for or want that same feeling of grace.

“There’s only been one man I’ve ever seen her notice continuously, one that does for her what she does for others. Her beacon.”

“Michael?” Max asked. It was so obvious. Maria interacted with other people, but with Michael she suddenly changed, became even more animated if possible, and life and mischief filled her whole demeanor along with an incredible gentleness.

“Yeah. Guerin.” Jonathan snickered under his breath. He knew Michael was listening. The lucky bastard. “What a waste.” Jonathan almost spit out his whiskey sour when he could actually hear Guerin’s response, so loud that it made Max wince in pain. Jonathan looked around the room. “I think we should dance. People are taking too much notice of us. Guess we aren’t exuding enough lover-like vibes.”

“I can’t dance to this stuff, and these damn pants are so tight I’ll split them.”

"Just try. You might surprise yourself." Jonathan got up and offered Max his hand with a twinkle of a dare in his dark black eyes.

Max let himself be backed up onto the dance floor. He slowly moved his feet unsure about what he should do. Jonathan could actually move. He moved very much like the men around him with a loose-limbed rhythm. Max stood and observed Jonathan as he lost himself in the music. Great. Where did all these people learn to dance like this? He was shocked when Jonathan moved closer to him almost mating their fronts.

“Don’t be so stiff. It’s not that hard, just watch the others and mimic their movements, or mimic mine. My ex-wife was a dancer. She dragged me to every possible type of dancing during our short hellish marriage.”

Max nodded and tried to relax, feel the music and go with the flow. Kyle was obviously having no real hang-ups with this. He and Sean were in a shocking bump and grind. Max started slowly, his eyelids drifting down so that they were only slightly open and he moved his head in time with the music. Good thing Michael wasn’t anywhere close by to observe this or he would never live it down. Then Max's body began to sway with the music, matching the movement of Jonathan’s still very closely mated body. The man didn’t back off.

Jonathan inched in closer and closer to the point where Max didn’t think there could be any more space. Suddenly all Max could see was Jonathan and his dark eyes and the feel of the movement of his body. He blocked out the rest of the bar, focusing all of his attention on Max in front of him. His hips swayed in time to the music while he ran a hand down Max's chest.

“You can do it, Detective.” He said softly in Max’s ear only.

Max squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to dispel his reaction to the closeness of Jonathan and the sensation of his hand on him. He hoped that what he was feeling wasn't visible on his face as Jonathan quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I can't move like that."

"Sure you can."

"Jonathan, you may have ball bearings for hips but I don't."

"Trust me, okay? Just do what I tell you."

"I don't have time for this. I’m working." That excuse sounded lame even in Max’s ears. Michael voice chirping in his ear didn’t help. ‘Don’t let him kiss you, stud. Resist...kissing on the first date or he’ll think you’re a slut.’ Bastard. Michael Guerin. Hate.

"Yes, you do. Now, close your eyes. I mean it, close your eyes." Max sighed and did as he was told to do.

"Feel the music. Don't listen to it. Feel it. Feel the beat. Let it start at the bottoms of your feet and slowly work it's way up your legs. It’s not the words, or the pounding regardless what people in this meat market would want to you to think. It’s the rhythm. That's it! Let the music move you."

Max slowly opened his eyes and looked at Jonathan. He was standing there swaying, smiling up at him, as he moved to the rhythms that rocked his body. Although he wasn't so stiff over this turn of events, he knew he wasn't exactly in control of his actions. His usual control-freak tendencies were slipping and the strangeness of the situation was leaving him adrift. The place, the music, and the man in front of him were in control and all these things together battered against his carefully built-up control.

A quiet groan escaped him as Jonathan pulled him up against his chest. It felt so strange to be the smaller person in a dance. Jonathan Stiller was a good six feet and two inches tall, and his frame was lighter than Michael’s but still large. Songs came and went but Max had no idea how long they stayed like that, lost in the music and each other. Some part of his brain was trying to catalog snippets of information, like he was on an assignment and shouldn’t be reacting this way to another man, especially one that was just helping him out. He reached a hand up touch Jonathan’s hair almost against his own will. It was dark and fine and looked like silk, and felt that way too. Twining his hand in its softness, Jonathan looked at him sharply with speculation in his eyes until a small smile tilted the corner of his mouth.

Jonathan moved his body so that his leg was between Max’s and one of Max’s legs was between his. They faced each other with their hips straddled together so close that it was hard to miss the other's reaction. Max looked up into Jonathan's face, stunned by the desire he saw in those eyes. Shaken to the core, Max thought that it was the music. That's all it was. Jonathan was just playing a game, thinking that he needed a cover. There was no way he'd let someone this close . . . but Max was that close. Close enough to feel the other man’s erection as it rubbed against his leg, and hard to ignore his own erection doing the same against Jonathan.

Max moaned and dropped his head against the other man’s shoulder. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be, because he was straight! Oh man, he wanted this! He needed this. He was gonna be pissed tomorrow, disgusted at himself. But that was tomorrow.

Max watched in fascination, almost outside his body as he reached a hand up to cup the back of Jonathan's head, reveling in the soft, velvety feel of the silky black hair worn slightly long. It only took a minimum of pressure to convince Jonathan to bring his head down, to bring his lips into range. Jonathan wasn’t doing this, but he was. Max licked his lips in anticipation, then stretched up to bring them together. He felt Jonathan's grip on his body tighten as the kiss deepened. Their bodies stopped moving as all of their attention centered on the melding of their mouths.

Sensations blasted their way into Max’s mind, mixing their individual tastes into on unique one. Cola. Scotch. Something that was just Jonathan, something cool and peppermint. A tongue scraping along teeth, tickling the sensitive part of the roof of his mouth, right behind his teeth. He could feel Jonathan vibrating against him, a purring rumble shaking the long slim body. And it felt...he didn’t know. It was a flashing sensation of light, increasing in intensity by the movement of Jonathan’s hand on his crotch. Max moaned and pushed hard into that hand. Yes. He could have stayed that way forever, if it weren't for the hard hand on his shoulder pulling him out of the kiss. He forced himself away from Jonathan, groaning as he looked at the man and watching confusion move across his face.

Max pulled his hand away from Jonathan’s body and rubbed his face as both Sean’s voice and Michael’s echoed in his ear. Oh God! What am I doing!

“Max, we’ve got to GO!” Sean gave him another shake. Max couldn’t focus on the voice in his ear as Michael called to him, demanding a response.

Those dark fathomless black eyes stared back at him; the lips were bruised from their kisses. There had been more than one, oh God, actually so many they melded into a huge mess that had no beginning or end! And with a sarcastic shrug, Jonathan motioned his head towards Sean as if to tell Max he needed to go. The softly spoken words hit him beyond the noise, music, Sean, and Michael screaming in his ear.

“Thank you for the... dance , Detective.”

Max turned to talk to Sean, to tell him he was coming as Sean lost patience and was pulling him away. But he turned back suddenly, and Jonathan was gone. Looking around, he couldn’t see the man anywhere. Max let Sean drag him off the floor into the masses.

“What the hell, Evans! Wake up! We’ve got a hit in the side alley outside. Kyle spotted them moving and drugging their victim.” Sean looked at the dazed Max and just sighed. It was a kiss, just a kiss. Okay maybe it was more. The two men had seemed frozen for a long time, their mouths mated and moving furiously while their hands had moved over each other’s bodies.

"Max," Michael’s said gruffly in his ear.

Sean looked over at Max as Michael’s voice sounded in his ear. “I’ve got him Michael. Which way do we deploy?”

“Outside units are moving towards the alley, Kyle is already there, talking to them. Take the right outside door and keep them from fleeing back into the club.” Michael’s voice paused. “You both might want to hurry to keep Little Grasshopper from getting bashed along with the victim.”

“Gotcha. Pass to grasshopper, his Master is on his way, and to duck.” Sean and Max pushed their way through the crowd. Max didn’t make a comment, but suddenly the club was busier and even more packed than he remembered. He ignored the groping hands grabbing at him as he and Sean found the door.

They exploded through it just in time to see Kyle take a clip to his jaw while two other men held him, and another two men held another man. Sean felt the rush of rage like a redness cover his sight as his partner took another one to the gut, coughing and bent over.

Leading with his fist, he took out the man hitting his partner, as Max jumped one of the men holding Kyle. Suddenly there was increase of noise and chaos as more Vice cops and a hobbling Michael joined the fray.

Later the boys were sitting in their usual position, that being the back of an EMS vehicle, having scrapes and bruises tended by a laughing paramedic. Michael was standing apart, refusing to be part of the ritual.

“Come on Detective. Even I can see that cut on your cheek from here.”

”It’s fine.” Michael refused and the paramedic finally gave up. Max glanced at his partner a few times, but didn’t say a word. Kyle was making up for all of them in the talking department. He was telling of his adventures and misadventures.

“You never leave an operation without backup, Kyle.” Sean said while he had his jammed finger splinted. It hurt like a son of a bitch.

“I radioed Michael, but I wasn’t sure the guy was drugged until he staggered and three guys joined the other two. Five against one didn’t seem like good odds. The kid wasn't going to take long to pulverize and drop.”

“So you put your own body in the way. How did you do that exactly?”

Kyle laughed. “I came on to one of the guys.” Sean’s brow went up as he looked over at the men being handled into patrol cars.

“Which one? The butch one with a mustache, or the one with arms full of tattoos?”

“Naw, the bald one with muscles. Can’t explain it, but the baldness must be some major turn on. Never thought it would happen, but I kind of thought it was sexy.” Sean laughed. It was good to see his partner taking the assignment better than when he started. They might be able to actually have fun together off duty outside of poker games and sporting events. Sean saw one of his old Vice buddies who was in on the bust give him a sign.

“Be right back. Shirley, stay out of trouble and no more picking up guys.” Sean looked at the paramedic. “Careful of this one, he’s carrying a pocket of squabs.”

“Thanks for the tip.” The paramedic patted Kyle on the head. “Down cowboy. I’ll get you patched up and you can hit the happy trails again.”

"Sean, good to see ya in action mi amigo .”

“Andy. Was that Taylor I saw you making up to in the bar? Thought you two hated each others guts?”

“We can hate each other's guts as long as we’re willing to lick each other's balls.” Andy smiled. “Miss you at the Department. Strickland has been an ass since you left. Your success and arrest record at Majors is pissing him off.”

“Are you seeing tears in my eyes? Stop with the soap, and tell me why StrickDick was willing to share a collar with Majors. Never thought I would see the day that tightwad shared anything, especially with Cap.”

“This situation just went on too long, and one of the bashing victims was an Upper Alderman’s son. That got Strickland’s balls in a twist for not cracking down on it sooner. Son of a bitch would have turned a cold eye forever, otherwise. It came straight from the Commissioner’s Den. StrickDick is feeling the sound of his own drowning career.” Andy lit a smoke and passed it to Sean. They shared the clove cig for a moment. “He was so frantic that he had us wired thin, covering four gay joints a night in two shifts each. It left us too open and unable to move fast enough.”

“Thought as much when I saw Williams earlier.” Sean took another draw on the cigarette. Remembering Michael’s talk with him earlier, Sean took a step back into the life. “Hey, Andy, how you feel about a workout at the Den this weekend?”

“I could spot you. Thought you were walkin' the vanilla trail.”

“Was, but it’s not working out like I thought it would.” Sean passed the cigarette back to his friend. “I’ll call in the reservations if you can leave work early tomorrow for Albuquerque.”

“Done. You can call it a night. They’ve been caught. Don't worry about any paperwork. Just go home and get some rest." Andy looked back at his friend. “What level of the Den you playing?”

“Red, and safety word is ‘more’.”

Andy whistled under his breath. “Then take off for sure. You’re gonna need your rest.”

"Thanks, mi amigo, " Sean said turning back to his partner and the others. Looked like he and Parker were going to have a one on one, and soon.

"What's going on?" Kyle asked as Sean reached them.

"They’re going to process the guys. We can head home."

"Oh." Kyle spoke quietly; depressed at the thought of losing the fun he'd had for a fleeting amount of time.

"Max?" Sean looked at the quiet man.

"Yeah?"

“You and Michael ready?” Michael just nodded and led the way back to their car. Sean and Kyle had ridden over to the loft with them earlier, so they needed to give them a ride back to the Department.

Kyle chatted all the way to the station with Sean tossing in comments, but the other team remained silent.

“What a rush! I didn’t know a place could be so happening.” Kyle laughed still feeling the rush of adrenaline in his blood. “Hey, Sean, I know it’s a gay club, but you think they’d mind if I took Tess there to dance?”

“They’ll just stare at you and feel that you’re being wasted, but otherwise, it’s a free state. Knock yourself out. But if you’re just looking for music and fun, Club Hell is a hot and hopping place for the straights.”

“Been there, but this place was different with all the lights and music. Club Hell is more like a banger’s club. This one had some pretty danceable tunes.” Kyle smelt himself and moved uneasily in his leather pants. “How do you clean leather pants anyway?”

“Why?” Michael asked absentmindedly.

“Man, I was in a horde of dancers, all too close to move, and someone gave me a hand job, I kid you not. These pants are a mess and sticky to boot.”

Michael looked back at Kyle and frowned. “You know, you don’t need to feel compelled to tell us every detail.”

Sean just laughed at Michael’s expression, but lost the smile when he noticed Max’s silent brooding look as he drove. “You should’ve tried the bathroom, Kyle. You might have gotten more than a little tug and pull.”

“No sh-it! Man, where was this place when I was a horny teenager?” Sean looked at his partner and just shook his head. Yeah, like Kyle Valenti as a teenager in redneck Roswell would’ve felt confident enough as a school jock to get a blowjob in a gay club. And pigs fly.

Michael was as quiet as Max on the drive home after they lost the racy boys. It was barely midnight so Michael doubted Maria was asleep yet. Looking over at his silent partner, Michael frowned.

“Max...”

“Not tonight, okay partner?” Max asked quietly.

Michael just shrugged and looked out his window. He didn’t know what had happened exactly in the bar, but Sean’s concerned looks at Max had Michael worried. Even the conversation with Jonathan Stiller gave Michael some food for thought. The smarmy bastard was right. Maria did have an energy about her, a source of life that was addicting. But the man was stupid if he didn’t think Michael knew how lucky he was.

~~~

He sat in the dark. It was late and the longer he sat the better. Rushing was always a problem for some. It created sloppiness and problems. Holding onto the stirring wheel, he could feel the leather casing and he tightened his hands when he noticed them shaking.

Letting the anger rage though him, he got out of the car and looked over the dumping field. It was too tight, too many already dumped. He had forgotten to find a new place. The latest reject had come too fast and was too marred to keep, even for a day. The bitch. The stupid, imperfect bitch! Walking and breathing her supposed perfection, convincing others that she was the one. Her grating nasally voice and noxious pretentiousness pissed him off before he took her. He should have known immediately that the woman was marred. An insult to the perfection of nature. No one... No one tries that hard to make others respect their intelligence, not unless there was some festering disease.

It was his mistake. And he didn’t make mistakes. Taking the shovel from the trunk and ignoring the wrapped body, he walked the field and tested the depth. Too many here already. The mass grave was too shallow, and more would expose it. Irritated, he returned to the car and tossed the shovel on the mound and slammed the trunk shut.

Losing his control for a moment, he beat his closed fist against the closed trunk and let the rage and anger move through him. It was a waste of time, all of it! The hunting ground was loud and noisy. The bright lights and the shrill sounds of people lying about themselves, creating false impressions to trap a future mate in a web of deceit with the promise of perfection. It was a lie, all lies. The imperfect remained marred, and they reproduced with equally damaged specimens, creating a race of garbage.

He threw himself back into the driver’s seat and gunned the engine. His entire body was quaking with the rage. Garbage! They were all garbage!!

~~~

Michael opened the door to the loft, and wasn't surprised to see the lights still on. Maria in bed before midnight without him would’ve been a shocker. Closing the door, he tossed his jacket on the sofa and reached down and took off the knee brace. He had had enough of that.

“You’re supposed to leave that on until the doctor says to take it off, buddy.” Michael looked over at the kitchen bar and smiled. His woman, eating her body weight in food.

“Yeah, that’s what he said.” Michael took the barstool next to her and grabbed a pickle off her plate and kissed her quickly before taking a bite.

“New wound on the cheek. Want me to doctor it for you?” Maria asked as she reached over and ate the rest of the pickle out of his hand.

“Later. I need to clean up first.”

“How was the sting, the operation, the whatever you call it?” Maria pushed the bread and coldcuts towards him. Taking more French bread, she handed him a knife to slice her some. “Slice my bread, please. But not too thin.” Maria watched him start to cut. “But not too thick either.” Michael snorted and whacked her off two pieces and kissed her hard. “Perfect.” She purred after he released her and she licked her lips.

“It was a bust tonight. All finished. They caught the five men and the world is safe again.” Michael paused in making himself a sandwich to go grab a beer out of the refrigerator, extra cheese, more pickles and olives, and a bottled water for Maria. Sitting down next to her, he watched her construct another sandwich for herself, while at the same time sneaking bits of turkey to Mr. Booboo, who was lurking under the counter. Mayo? Maria only used mayo on certain meats. This was Brie cheese, provolone, and three slices of corned beef, pastrami, turkey, a slap of spicy brown mustard, and then some unknown beef looking meat. Weird.

“What is that?”

“Tongue.”

Michael looked into the coldcut container. Tongue? “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. Had a craving.” Maria continued to stack the sandwich with Swiss cheese, lettuce, pickles and tomatoes, adding vinegar and salt and pepper, a handful of potato chips; then she covered the last piece of bread in peanut butter. Cutting her sandwich, Maria took a large bite and was happily munching away, almost humming under her breath.

“That’s disgusting!”

Maria just shrugged and reached for a pickle out of the jar. “Don’t knock it if you’ve never tried it.”

Michael reached over and took her other half over her protest and took a bite. Pausing, he suddenly realized that he was ravenous, and somehow this crazy sandwich hit the spot, except it was missing something. Maria suddenly went to the refrigerator and brought out a bottle of seafood c-ocktail sauce and grabbed a bottle of Tabasco. That’s what was missing! Michael smeared on some c-ocktail sauce followed by some Tabasco as Maria did the same.

She looked over as he devoured the sandwich and then looked down at her empty plate. Gulping down the bite she was chewing, she still talked with her mouth full of food. “Hey, make your own! I’m starving.”

They both made another sandwich and traded stories of their day while eating. Michael popped the last bite in his mouth, and actually felt good for the first time that day. He had woken with a headache, slightly nauseated and his knee killing him. The nausea only got worse after Cap grilled the crap out of them and he had had to sit next to Kyle and his new aftershave during departmental briefing. Then he ate half a dozen donuts, and three 5th Avenue bars, took an hour nap in Holding, followed by a lunch in the park from a kiosk. For some reason he had had a craving for liver pâté, but settled for a Braunschweiger sandwich with mushrooms and grilled shrimp on a large Kaiser roll. Max watched horrified, as he drank four cups of hot bad coffee laced with Tabasco. Michael wasn’t going to admit to the five other 5th Avenue candy bars he ate, and then he and Maria polished off an extra large double anchovy and pepper pizza from Maggianio’s that Maria ordered while they finished getting dressed for the gay bar.

“So, Maria...” Michael didn’t know how to ask her, or why he felt the need, but he did. “Did you know Max is in love with you?”

Maria ignored him and continued putting away the sandwich stuff. Michael grabbed a few olives for the road before that jar disappeared too. “You through with the pickles?”

“Professor!”

Maria stopped and looked at him across the countertop. “Yeah I knew.” She reached for the bread and put it in its tin cover.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Michael asked as he felt the dark jealousy rise, trying to swallow it like a lump in his throat.

Maria climbed the stairs to the bedroom, not answering him. Turning off the lights, he followed her and watched as she turned back the bedding and started getting ready for sleep. Moving into the bathroom, she sat in a robe on the tiled edge of the bath and ran the water. Looking over at him standing silent against the doorjamb, she sighed. “It just seemed kinder to ignore it. He’s not in love with me. He just thinks he is.”

Michael moved into the room, shutting the door to keep the warm moisture in, and watched her remove her robe as she slid into the water. Removing his clothes he joined her while she lit the candles on the back shelf.

“But how do you know he’s not in love with you?”

Maria smiled and went into his arms to rest against him in the bath. “He never pisses me off or starts a fight with me. What kind of love is that?” Michael smiled to himself. That was true. They never wooed peacefully; it was as if they enjoyed walking in the fire.

“You want to work on the Mustang this weekend?” Michael asked while leaning back in the bath with his eyes closed. Maria had already washed his cut, and the water felt so good. Maria giggled at the question. They worked on it almost every weekend, and it usually ended up in a shouting match, flinging tools and greasy sex.

“Sure, I could use a lube job.”

~~~

They exited the club from the side door. Closing hour made the rush at the front doors too much of a crush, so the group of young students took the easy way out. The girls were walking in front of their boyfriends, when one of the young men took off running, and grabbed a hat off the head of one the girls.

“Stop it! Give it back!” Suddenly the group of men was in a playful game of keep away with the girls. The screeching and noise was increased as the play continued. Finally one of the students tripped backwards over something beside the garbage skip.

Embarrassed by the laughter of his friends, he stood up laughing at himself. It was the hand falling out of the plastic wrap that sent him scrambling away.