Michael walked into the loft and stopped in shock at the sheer horror of it. Max was right behind him. The place was in shambles, but this time Mr. Booboo was innocent of all wrongdoing. The place smelt like heaven. Amy was in the kitchen cooking her heart out while Maria, Isabel, and Liz were either talking on the phone or dialing it.

“What the hell is going on?” Michael asked the room at large. “What's with this day? First having Hanson assigned to our team, and now this!”

“Don’t swear, dear.” Michael looked down at Amy next to him. “Taste this.” Michael bent down to taste the sauce off her wooden spoon. “Does it need more Oregano?”

“I think it tastes perfect.” Michael was rewarded with a brilliant smile and a kiss. “Amy, what’s going on?”

“Jim moved The Wedding to this Saturday. I need help, so Maria and the girls are rescuing me.” Amy smiled sweetly and went back to her pots and pans. “Boys, I’m assuming that you’re here for lunch, so go wash up and I’ll fix you a plate.” Michael and Max were slow on the uptake, still held in horror at the mess around them. “Now!” They both scurried off to the bathroom.

Michael came out of the bathroom to watch Maria walk up the stairs to their bedroom, still talking on the phone. She hardly noticed he was there. But his body definitely knew she was around.

“Michael, food. Don’t even think of interrupting Maria, she’s busy.” Michael let the large plate of food distract him from his other mid-day appetites. Too damn many people in the house anyway, including Amy wielding a wicked spoon.

Max was already tucking in his napkin and wondering how his sister got included in the mess. It was the Maria's scream from upstairs that not only startled everyone, but had Michael charging up the stairs.

“Maria!” He stopped on the stairs midway up when a shaking Maria emerged at the top of the stairs flinging her arms about while holding her phone.

“A dead body! Dammit! A headless dead body...in my bed! I hate dead bodies in my bed.”

Michael continued the rest of the way up the stairs and took her in his arms. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it.” Michael kissed the top of her head and sent her down the stairs. Going into the room, there it was--in the middle of the bed on the sheets, right where Michael and Maria liked to sleep. Going into the bathroom, Michael got what he needed to wrap up the body.

“Maxwell! Catch!” Max came over as Michael tossed him a toiletpaper-wrapped present. “Just dispose of it out in the garage trash.”

Max looked down at the wrapped body. “What kind this time?”

“Cardinal, I think.” Max nodded and went to take the dead bird out.

“Why does he keep doing that?” Maria asked the room in general. Mr. Booboo had started leaving them presents a few weeks ago. “Michael! Don’t forget to...”

Michael’s head came back in view. “Change the sheets? I’m on it.” When Michael went to change the bed a stretching Mr. Booboo came out of his closet, yawning. He sat down and gracefully licked and inspected his paw. “You’re in big trouble, buddy. You know she hates it when you leave her presents in the bed. Couldn’t you at least leave the heads on?”

The cat looked at him like he was insane. Leave the heads on ? Trouble? Heh. He just gave Michael a plaintive meow and headed down the stairs. Michael could hear Maria cooing at the murderous feline, praising him on his hunting prowess. Easy to do when you didn’t have to dispose of the bloodied bodies.

Michael and Max sat down and continued their lunch once the latest bird victim was taken care of. Amy was refilling their plates, when Sean showed up. He took one look at the mess, saw his aunt and slowly backed away. Michael went to follow him, when Maria noticed him leaving.

“Michael, wait! Mrs. Mulhoney, we forgot her this weekend. She tried to move the stuff herself.” Michael swore under his breath and nodded.

“Come on, partner, we need to take care of something.” Michael looked over at Maria. “I’ll be back, Professor. Feed your face.” Michael and Max made it outside before the cowardly Sean got away. “Not so fast, DeLuca. We’ve got a job.”

“Aunt Amy?” Sean looked over Michael’s shoulder to see if his aunt was following.

“Mrs. Mulhoney.”

Sean’s face brightened and lost its hunted look. “Oh, sure. Think she made cookies?” The three men went to move some furniture as Sean informed Michael he was doing a side case, but would be checking in. When they got back to the loft with Michael guarding a plate of cookies from Max, the women were still going strong.

“No, no. I want the other blend. Silk is fine, but nothing mixed in polyester and no rayon. How many bolts can I get? That’s it? Okay, give me what you have, and see what else you can find. No, it has to be the cream satin finish.” Liz paused and listened. “Just a second.” She looked over a pile of credit cards on the table and took one. “No, charge it. Here’s the number...”

Isabel was harassing someone else. “No, I want the food delivered. For a five-thirty sitdown, but there has to be an appetizer buffet. I’ll call you back with the location, you just worry about the food. No! Cocktail weenies. I've told you three times. There must be cocktail weenies on the buffet.” Isabel made a hacking noise in her throat, her stance became threatening and her voice cold. “I don’t care if individual quiches would be more appropriate. I ordered cocktail weenies and That. Is. What. I. Want! ”

“Carl, don’t give me any grief. No. Absolutely not! She wants the main ballroom and hall. I’ve got five hundred guests coming and we can’t fit everyone into that small room. I need the main hall and ballroom. No. No. Carl don’t make me get tough with you.” Maria listened to the man on the other end. “Nonsense. Call the other party and make them an offer on the smaller, more intimate, non-leaking room. I know the roof isn’t leaking, but they don’t. Bribe them! Money is no object, just get me that room.” Maria listened for a moment, and then sweetened her voice, “and Carl, I also need three wet bars set up, a place for a full band set up, and tell the stockers to lay in extra Moët et Chandon, and six cases of their champagne. Mr. Stiller loves that brand the most.” Maria paused knowing that mentioning Jonathan’s name as a member of the Club’s governing board would speed things along. “Thank you, Carl.” Maria smiled sweetly at Isabel and marked off an item. “We got the rooms.”

“That wasn’t playing nice, Professor.” Michael said from where he and Max were still eating.

“Your point?” Both Isabel and Maria looked at him all confused. Liz just hid a smile and started dialing for cleaning staff and servers. “I don’t think you should complain! Isabel and I made sure that there’s not only going to be cocktail weenies on the appetizer buffet, but…” Maria went over and picked some food off his plate, eating it then kissing him. “Pigs in the Blanket.”

Michael looked at her suspiciously. Maria wanted something. “What are you up to, Professor?”

“Nothing! Oh, did I also mention that there’s also going to be your favorite barbeque ribs, the short ones that you like so much...extra sauce?”

“Maria...”

“And here’s the appointment time both you and Max have for getting your tux’s altered.” Michael just closed his eyes and groaned. He knew it. “Have you seen Sean and Kyle?”

Amy sauntered by and stopped and gave Michael a big kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, sweetie, for making my special day so wonderful.” Oh, this wasn’t fair. They were ganging up on him.

Max was still laughing when they left to go back to work. “I don’t know why you’re complaining. I'm in this with you. At least she bribes you with sex and food, whereas me...I do it for her smile.”

“Don’t hang the state of your wussdom on me! I told you to resist.” Max just snorted. Resistance? What the hell was that? “Resistance is futile! You know, let’s just go find a felon to beat up on.”

“Now you’re talking, partner. And in case you didn’t notice there were too many frickin’ people in my home for me to engage in sex.” Michael frowned. They hadn't made love since last night. Dammit, it felt like a damn dry spell.

Max looked at Michael and his dark scowl and frown. “Oh yeah, you’re really suffering.” Michael just waved a finger at Max as they got into the car.

“Hey, well at least you know your boyfriend is invited!”

“F-uck off, Guerin.”

~~~

“Mr. Stiller, your two o’clock is here.”

“Thank you, Lois. Send him in.” Jonathan straightened in his chair. Maria was correct in her assumption that Kenneth Price wasn’t going to just let the appointment to the Board of Directors for the Foundation rest. He had made an appointment with Jonathan to discuss the appointment and why his application was being blocked.

The man was well-groomed, very proper and obviously not going to let Jonathan and his offices intimidate him.

“Professor Price, please take a seat.” Jonathan called his secretary. “Lois, have someone send up some coffee please.” It was hard to admit, but he admired the tenacious pursuit that Kenneth was demonstrating.

Moving around his desk to take a seat next to the man, Jonathan looked him over. He was mid-thirties, brown hair with small framed glasses. He wasn’t that bad looking a man, but hardly a Brad Pitt. It was his expression that seemed to age and delineate him as someone much older.

“I understand that you wished to discuss why I’m blocking your appointment to the Foundation?” Jonathan refrained from smiling at the man's startled reaction.

“That is correct.” Jonathan just nodded noting the man’s dry tone. He wasn’t a very pleasant man, but at the most, unassuming.

“I can easily tell you why, Professor. I would’ve done it over the phone if you preferred.”

“I would rather face things head-on.” Lois entered carrying a tray of coffee. Setting it down on the small table between the two chairs she quickly poured her boss and his guest a cup each before leaving.

“Thank you, Lois.” Jonathan sipped his coffee and decided that it was time to get it over with. “Professor, I block your appointment for one reason. Well maybe two, but one specifically.”

“And that would be?”

“Power.”

Ken looked at the man and frowned. “I don’t understand. You’re saying you blocked me because you could?”

Jonathan laughed. “No. But in a way, that too. No. I mean that I see this appointment as a way for you to increase your power, or areas of influence. Now being a businessman, normally that isn’t something that bothers me, but in regard to the Foundation it does.”

“Professor DeLuca said it might be that you feel I don’t understand the mission of the Foundation.”

“She is correct. At one level. I believe you understand the mission completely. I simply think you don’t support or believe in it. This organization was created as a sort of ‘Make A Wish’ foundation to help people who made mistakes, who need help. It’s not a powerplay or a place to gain control.”

“I’m sorry.” Ken laughed putting his coffee down. “I know you, or of you. I can’t see how a man in your position can be so ‘philanthropic’ to an organization that commands this amount of raw assets and monies. This Foundation is a goldmine of opportunity. Its potential is unrealized and unmatched.”

“That is why you are banned, Professor.” Jonathan took another sip of his coffee. “You’re not interested in the mission or cause of this Foundation, but rather your own prestige and rewards. Well there are no rewards with this Foundation, not for the workers and or the Board members, only for those who are helped.”

Ken just shook his head and put his cup away. “I can’t believe that you aren’t getting something out of being the CEO of this Foundation. Not by a long shot. I look at the type of man you are, and there is no way that you do this without some benefit.”

Jonathan stood up to dismiss the man. He had answered his question and there was little left to say. “You’re insightful. I do benefit. My reputation is gold. Solid. A little act of kindness goes far in peoples’ respect. You’re looking for physical rewards, and I...I am looking for something different. Your problem, Professor, is that you have no clue as to the true nature of power.” Jonathan opened his office door. “You have no idea. Understand what power is, and things will suddenly become clear.”

“This isn’t over. I can petition the rest of the Board.” Kenneth’s eyes sparkled with anger and contempt. He needed no lectures.

“You can.” Jonathan looked over at his secretary. “Lois, give Professor Price a list of all the Board Members.” Jonathan looked at the Professor and smiled lacking humor or warmth. “Good day, Professor. I suspect we’ll be meeting again.”

~~~

Michael made it home in time to change and eat before needing to be at Club Hell for the evening stakeout. Hoping to find his world restored to its normal order he was disappointed. Liz and Isabel were still phoning away, and Maria and Amy were discussing all the arrangements that still needed to be taken care of. Michael frowned when he looked at Maria. She looked pale, tired and far too small.

“What ya doing, Professor?” Maria looked up at him and smiled. Michael nodded at the rest and dragged her upstairs with him.

“Not too long, Michael. We still need Maria’s help.” Amy called after them.

“Tell me they aren’t spending the evening here?” Maria sat on the bed while he slowly removed his clothes and searched out fresh ones for after his shower.

“More than likely. What does it matter? You’re going to be on stakeout until after two in the morning. We might as well get some work done, and Liz and Isabel want to go over our loft's floor plan to see what they want in theirs.”

“What?” Liz and Isabel? A loft?

“I'll tell you later.” Maria grabbed his hand and pulled him to her where she sat on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

Michael moaned and tossed himself on their bed pulling Maria with him to rest on top of his body. “People. There are people everywhere. I haven’t touched you since last night, and I can’t with all these people invading our lives.”

“It’s hardly an invasion.” Maria smiled against his skin, moving up to kiss him.

“Professor.” Michael groaned in his throat as he took her lips in a long hard kiss, and he moved his mouth seductively against hers. He loved the feel of her nails biting into his skin as she moved along his body, her leg rubbing between his, nestling high up against his groin.

“So hard,” Maria muttered as her hand swept down his body to outline his erection pressing up against his jeans. Her mouth moved over his skin, along his neck to whisper hotly in his ear, “I love you hard.”

"Just so we're on the same page here, Professor." Michael moved his mouth along her neck licking her skin, wanting to bite her, but refraining. He quickly flipped them and rolled to pull Maria under him, tight.

"We are." Maria raised her arms and looped them around Michael's neck, pulling his head down to her. "Kiss me..." she breathed against Michael's lips. He moaned into her mouth as their lips touched, pulled away, and then moved back together to sink deeply into each other. Michael ran his hands over her. Too long. It felt too long.

It was hot, sweet and heady. The smell of her, of them, was making his head swim. It was hard not to marvel at how good Maria tasted, the textures, scents and flavors that combined to flow over and around and through him like some expensive cognac. The satiny texture of Maria's tongue in his mouth as he sucked it, then rubbed his own against it. So smooth, so hot, like walking in a living fire. He ran his tongue around the entire inside of Maria's mouth, savoring the flavors of them mixed together.

He groaned when Maria pulled away from him, her breasts heaving with emotion. Another groan followed as he began placing tiny nips, little pinches with his teeth, down the sensitive skin of her throat, fingers trailing up and down the sides of her neck, caressing the ultra-sensitive skin there. Michael’s eyes closed to the sound of a low feminine growl vibrating in her throat. Suddenly Maria’s mouth found his neck and she bit him. Hard, but not enough to break the skin. She pulled back from locking her jaw remembering her promise to him about the blood. But she could still smell it, feel it moving beneath her tongue.

"God, baby," he growled when a hot, sucking kiss covered the stinging place. He raised his own arms, lifted the hem of Maria's shirt and skimmed his hands upward, feeling the soft silky texture of her skin. His fingers continued their search until he found two nipples; both already peaked with excitement. He circled that nipple gently with a forefinger, felt the resultant quiver run through her body. A hard pinch to the other nipple and both hardened completely, twin peaks begging for his touch. Maria groaned at the sensations, her lips breaking from their caresses.

She pushed him back on the bed rising above him like something he couldn’t describe. Her eyes were dark and alive, so brilliant against the paleness of her skin. She was gone. Somewhere else, a place that only held them, and their smell. Michael smiled a little at what she was about to do, the heat of her body on his, her smaller tighter one taking him in and riding him to release. “Yes, do it, Professor.”

They had forgotten about the women busy downstairs, but obviously they weren't forgotten. Amy’s voice brooking no excuses broke their concentration on each other.

“Maria, get off that boy and get down here. Now!” Both of them stopped what they were doing and rested for moment. Michael bit back a retort, one hopping with colorful metaphors, which was stopped by Maria’s hand over his mouth.

“Don’t!”

Michael just swore quietly. “Professor...” Michael groaned low.

“I know.” Maria wiggled out of his arms making him groan even more. “Go take a shower...a cold one.” Maria stood up pulled her shirt down and Michael sat up to sit on the side of the bed.

Before she left, he grabbed her and pulled her to stand between his legs resting his head on her abdomen. “You feel tired, Professor.”

“I am.”

“Home all day?” Maria said a quiet yes and she reached down to kiss the top of his head. “You should have napped.”

“I couldn’t. I was too busy. I’ll rest tonight. I promise.”

Michael stood up and leaned down to kiss her again. “And eat.”

Maria pushed him away from her and towards the bathroom. “Oh, I’ll eat!” He laughed at that as she headed downstairs.

The others looked up as Maria slowly came down the stairs. They could hear the shower going on. Liz looked at Amy curiously.

“How did you know that Maria was...”

Amy just chuckled and stirred a pot. “What else have they been doing lately, but even if that wasn’t the case...I could rip all of Jim’s clothes off with just my teeth right now. The only time I get that turned on without Jim being around is when I’m around those two pawing at each other. They sure know how to make a woman feel young.”

“Oh!” Liz’s face turned red and she quickly hid her face behind a curtain of shiny brown hair. She thought she was the only one that reacted that way to Michael and Maria. Liz blushed even more thinking about her mother ever making that comment to her.

~~~

Max was just putting the finishing touches on a sandwich when his doorbell rang. Wiping his hands, he went to answer it pausing when he saw Jonathan Stiller standing there.

“Um...hi?”

Jonathan just smiled slightly and gestured his head asking Max if he could come inside. Max just moved to the side. This was too surreal. He didn’t prepare or anything.

“Sorry to just stop by without calling first. I tried Maria at the University, but her secretary said she was off all day.”

“Yeah, Amy’s wedding plans got bumped to this Saturday, and Maria and some friends are frantically trying to get everything done.” Max looked at him curiously. Was he there to see him, or was it something to do with Maria?

“That explains it. Amy DeLuca. What a personality. She looks harmless, makes everyone around her jump, but in truth, she is one of the most intelligent women I've ever met. She is a little too astute, if you know what I mean.”

“I think I do.” Max went back into the kitchen. Jonathan followed and put his overcoat across a stool.

“I’m sorry. I’m interrupting your dinner.”

Max just shrugged. “It’s just a sandwich. Amy fed me lunch, so I decided to avoid anything big and hearty. I have a stakeout tonight, and the last thing I need is the desire to fall asleep.” Max looked at the tall dark man and his unfathomed eyes. “You hungry?”

“I could eat.” Jonathan sat on a stool as Max pushed him the bread and fixings. “Anyway, not just being a rude beast, assuming you would want to see me, or even provide me with dinner and company, I stopped by for a reason.”

Max stopped looking in his refrigerator for pickles and olives. “What’s that?”

“Maria. I need you to pass on some information to your partner for Maria. I should just call her place or stop there, but I find my life expectancy is increased exponentially by not intruding on Detective Guerin’s personal territory too often.” Jonathan nodded when Max held up a beer. “I fear I rub your partner the wrong way, which is strange since I’m positive I never touched him.”

“It’s complicated. Michael’s a little possessive of Maria.”

Jonathan snorted at that. “Possessive? A little.”

Max actually laughed too. “Okay, more than a little.” Max took a bottle water for himself. He could drink before being on duty. “So what can I do?”

Jonathan smiled to himself, but answered anyway. “You could tell Guerin that I sort of had a run-in with Maria’s grand poohbah today. He wasn’t pleased. And if my hunch is right, he’ll be coming full steam towards Maria. I made a mistake today, and I don’t know how long it’ll be before he figures it out.”

“What mistake?” Max frowned. “Is he going to try to hurt Maria?”

“Oh god, no! I hope not. No, he’s going to make a run on the other Board members and try to get his seat on the Foundation. He knows that Maria doesn’t vote her block, but she is the swing vote. It may take him a little while to understand exactly what that means and the extent of her power over the Foundation. Once he starts soliciting votes, he’s going to understand what real power is.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Maria’s strength is the regard the other members have for her. They will vote and follow her wishes as far as the overall running of the Foundation goes. If Price wants to find himself on board, he needs to get Maria’s approval. Once he has that, the others will follow like night follows day.”

“So he’ll eventually realize she is the stepping stone he needs?” Jonathan nodded and rubbed his face.

“My mistake. He pissed me off. A normal human would just walk away, try for another position or something, but not this man. He’s fixated on this seat. He wants it. He’ll get it, if it takes him an entire lifetime.”

“Determined?”

“Very. You get these breed of men. They listen to only themselves, hear only themselves and their opinions reign supreme. They make decisions for everyone around them, like somehow by the very virtue of thinking the thought makes it correct.” Jonathan sighed. “He’s one of these tin demi-gods who doesn't bother understanding how little they are. But they understand power, understand what it brings and they look for it.”

“I’ll tell Michael. Worse comes to worst, we’ll run the little runt in again and make him cry like we did last year.” Jonathan smiled at that.

“So you have work tonight?”

Max nodded taking a bite of his sandwich. “Club Hell.”

Jonathan laughed at that. Shaking his head he ate some of his sandwich and drank some of the beer.

Max looked at him suspiciously. “What?”

“You cops lead interesting lives. A different club and party every night?”

Max laughed at that. His smile getting larger as he drank from his bottled water. “Sounds like that, doesn’t it? But actually, it’s not. This is has been an unusual few weeks.”

“The serial killer? That’s your case?”

Max looked at Jonathan. “Yeah. That’s the case.” Max frowned at his drink. “How’d you know?”

“I read the papers. High profile cases in Roswell usually mean Guerin and by the same token, that means you.”

“You should’ve been a detective.”

“Jonathan.”

Max frowned at the man. “What?”

“Jonathan. You can call me Jonathan, Max. It roles off a tongue just like any other name.”

“Was I avoiding saying your name?” Max looked slightly embarrassed. “I hadn’t realized.”

Jonathan nodded and wiped his fingers on a napkin. Jonathan looked at his watch and sighed. It was close to the clubbing hours, so that meant Max would more than likely have to leave.

”I should leave you to get ready for work.” Jonathan gathered up his things. “Thanks for passing on that message for me, and thanks for the sandwich.”

Max followed him to the door, uncertain what he should do. What should he say? Ask him out again, or maybe invite him over for dinner, or just arrange to meet for a drink? A drink. That was safe, well for most people, but most people weren’t toasted after half a beer.

Jonathan turned and looked at Max. “So look. I’m not sure what you’re wanting from me, or from a ‘sort’ of relationship with me. I can tell you that if you have hangups being seen with a man in public, perhaps that is something you need to consider immediately.”

“Jonathan...”

“That’s a start. Saying my name. So lets put this on the line. I think I have a strong attraction going for you and I’m not even sure exactly why or how, but it’s happening. I’ve no doubt been invited to the Valenti-DeLuca marriage happening some time this coming Saturday, and I’m guessing you are too?”

Max nodded.

“Good. Then instead of me bringing my latest too thin, almost a boy, fashion model draped on my arm, what if I bring you?” Jonathan watched Max’s hesitation. “Or you could bring me?”

“I don’t know...” Max hesitated again. It was one thing meeting him in a restaurant or bar, but another thing to go to a special event with all his friends and family in attendance. It seemed almost too personal, too much, and too quick.

“Okay, how about this then. You come alone, and I’ll come alone. We’ll meet there and pretend to avoid each other,” Jonathan moved in close to Max pulling on his shirt. “You can wonder about me. I’ll wonder about you. You’ll wonder...will he try to find me and kiss me? Will I let him? Does he even want to kiss me?” Max watched as Jonathan licked his lips, his eyes dropping to his mouth and staying mesmerized there. “Or if it’s too uncomfortable, we can meet there, be together and at the end of the night I promise you I will definitely kiss you.”

“Jonathan, this is hard...”

“I know. But I can promise that I won’t talk to you like some cheap smut novel, call you 'baby' or 'my slut', tell you I want to take your hot hungry hole, or even call you ‘sexy’. I don’t talk to women like that, and I don’t see why I would talk to men that way either.”

Max winced and actually laughed. “Thanks for the 411 on that. I was going to immerse myself in cheap gay porno in hopes of getting the lingo down.” Max actually pouted a little. “Though, I can’t believe you’d never call me 'baby'.”

Jonathan moved even closer to Max, whispering in his ear while looking across the room. “If I call you ‘baby’, it means we are definitely someplace entirely beyond the realm of dating, and that is some serious sh-it.”

Max let his eyes close at the feel and smell of Jonathan as he moved closer. Oh damn. How could it go from joking one minute to something totally different the next? He was so out of his league and depth here.

Jonathan suddenly scooped down and pinned Max’s mouth beneath his, his lips already searching for his entrance. A warm mouth opened willingly for him, a soft, satiny tongue greeted him. He could still taste their previous kisses almost like a memory that refused to end. The tastes rolled into each other until Jonathan couldn't tell where one stopped and the next started. He moved forward and rested his weight on his hand against the wall next to the closed door with Max trapped between his body and the wall. Max Evans was such an unexpected surprise. Tangling his fingers deep into the incredible sensuousness of Max’s hair, the silky strands tickling at his fingertips, Jonathan had Max’s head cupped firmly in his hand as he kissed him. Jonathan drew away from the kiss and began a gentle learning of Max's face. The rougher skin, rougher than a woman’s with peppering of a light evening beard. It was raspy to the touch, and his tongue appreciated the texture.

He heard the low gasp as he started sprinkling random kisses across Max's face; first on his nose, moving to an eyelid, tracing down a cheekbone. He tasted with his lips and tongue, creating a mental map, following it to find the next spot that was sensitive. A tongue brushed softly across eyelashes elicited a soft moan, as did the lips that nuzzled behind an ear.

Jonathan catalogued each sound, taste, texture, his mind transferring the raw data into a crystal-clear image of Max. Kissing Max again and again, drawing his bottom lip into his mouth and sucking it until Max moaned, brought a lift to the side of his mouth. He traced around kiss-swollen lips with the tip of his tongue, then licked a path across Max's jawbone, noting the roughness of evening whiskers. The texture of those whiskers changed the further down Max's throat he went, smoothing out and disappearing as he reached the Adam's apple bobbing so temptingly in front of him. Max groaned as he licked across the tender bump, then suckled it.

His own body was responding to the breathy moans, whispers and quiet pleas; he was hard and throbbing against Max, his c-ock demanding release, searching for stimulation. Jonathan growled as Max arched against him, brushing their erections together. Too fast. This was too fast.

Jonathan stepped away from Max running his hands through his hair and determined to keep them to himself. Max just stood there breathing heavily, eyes darker than Jonathan ever knew, and his mouth red and swollen. Damn.

Jonathan cleared his throat. “Tell you what.” Jonathan picked up his jacket that had somehow found its way to the floor. “Here’s my card. You think about it, decide about The Wedding date, and call me. You can even simply leave me a message on my machine. All I’m asking is you tell me how you want me. How you want me to act.”

Jonathan reached for the door, and changed his mind. Max gasped as Jonathan came back and pulled him into a kiss so fiery that his body felt like it was ignited, his body jerking forward to press into as much of Jonathan's body as possible. A hand came to hold him firm as the mouth explored his. Max was effectively trapped between Jonathan's body and the door as Jonathan ravished his mouth.

And just as suddenly as he had grabbed him, Jonathan let him go. Max didn’t recognize the moan coming from his own throat and he had a hard time opening his eyes and concentrating.

“Next time, Detective. I’ll want to taste more of you than just your mouth.” Jonathan tapped a long elegant finger against Max’s swollen mouth and left the apartment. Max stood there in a daze. Oh sh-it. He had a boyfriend.

~~~

Alex stood in the dark room watching the monitors over Michael and Max’s shoulders. They brought three other detectives tonight, and one was Hanson. Michael watched Hanson bumble through the club and swore. Max looked at him concerned, but there was nothing any them could do about Hanson. He was assigned.

“He’s not here.” Alex said lighting a new cigarette.

“I know.” Michael said as Alex crumbled the empty cigarette pack in his hand.

“He moved his hunting ground.”

Michael looked at Max and nodded. Max got up and left the room to continue circling. “We stick here until we know. I’ve got a contact who's trying to find his Dump.”

“And what then? What, Michael, Protector of Men, what then?”

“We send them home.”

Alex collapsed in the chair that Max vacated and gave a bitter laugh. Leaning forward he held his head in his hands and gave a low sob, one that somehow escaped his control.

“I buried my cousin today.” Michael looked at him, and then away. “This world is diseased, poisoned by spite and greed. The filth used to only taint the edges like the corners of a piece of wilted lettuce. It was easy to discard and ignore. But this is more, so much more. Children, babies, they cry and no one hears them. We become so entrenched in our lives that we forget we’re human.”

“Alex...”

Alex laughed and looked up at Michael. “I know you. I've dreamt of you, or me, and men like me. I lived a thousand lives and the strange thing is...in every one of those lives, I think my name was always Alex...Alexander. It means ‘defender of man’.” Alex stood up and stalked the room in nervous energy. “And you, Michael...keeper of the gate what do you teach the children of the night? The lost ones? Do you save them one by one, or do you set their bones to rest?”

Alex pointed at the monitor. “Look at them. So lost in their lives, so lost in the moment. Do they even know? Life is a gift, as sweet as a ripened peach.”

Alex changed the monitor to one where a young woman, barely legal if that, was being f-ucked up against a wall of his club by a man almost ten years older than she was. “It’s as precious as a gilded jewel. Cut and polished by nature’s own hand.” Alex stomped on his cigarette. “I’ve never been able to understand the logic of willfully surrendering such a gift as life, to offer it up as if it were nothing.”

Alex looked at another monitor where two men were sharing a line of coke. “And what is there to gain? How dark can their existence be when compared to an eternal void of non-existence?” Alex turned to lean against the monitors and look at Michael. “Unless of course you believe...have faith...that there is something beyond this mortal coil, this pale shining rock.”

“It's all a ruse, a pop culture lost in obscurity. Everyone of them trying to break free of being...ordinary. But to what end, when their very struggle reduces them to nothing?” Alex sank back in his chair and steepled his hands to look at Michael. “What do you see from where you stand? Is there a bright light at the end of the tunnel? A corridor to the beyond? Is it a ray of hope? Or even a glimmer of something better? Or will it burn you like the rising sun? Is that sound you're hearing the trumpeting of St. Peter's angels? Or the slaying of us on Satan minions’ poniards?"

Alex turned to watch the screens, the movement of wild young things chasing their own youth and mortality on a slow race to the grave. “What do you hear when you sleep? The crying of angels to their lost brethren? Or the screams of men's low tortured souls?” Alex laughed bitterly. “You can’t answer that can you, Michael? Because you’re like me. Because you’ll never know the answer ‘til the deed is done. You are running to stand still, Detective. This creature leaves us nothing but the dead to tend.”

“Alex, we can win this. There is no other answer but to win. We’ll find this sickness and remove it.” Michael looked at Alex. He was too strong, too silent and he had fought too long. He was seeing the destruction from the inside.

“And is your faith really that strong?” Alex asked. Turning his chair and leaning forward, taking Michael’s hands in a strong grip. “I understand the need to move on. It is something that happens. And staying in one place letting death cover you every day takes it toll. And your time has truly come when you can no longer see the light or hear the call."

“Are you there, Alex?” Michael looked at the man, and saw something utterly beautiful. Endurance. "I also understand that with the beauty of this life there comes pain and despair. No one is immune. But consider what's in your hands, what you hold that no other can. Honor and duty is everything, along with protecting those who cannot. Don't trade a treasure for an empty box."

“A treasure? Is that what this is? I stood tossing dirt on that box today and, Michael...it wasn’t empty. It had Krystal in it. Or what once was Krystal. Life was her gift, the first one she was born with, given at the first rush of breath. That breath was stolen and that voice silenced. She was the treasure, Michael. She was the treasure.” Alex walked to the door. “My life, my honor, brother. But some days...I know not.”

Michael watched him leave and the image of him bled on into the night. They were all walking in the dark, and something was knocking at the door, a new something. Michael knew not, as well. But whatever it was...it smelt of death.

~~~

Sean stood in the shadows and watched. It was late and the open sky was not offering enough light. The moon passed behind clouds, and the streetlights in this part of town had been broken out years ago. No one bothered to replace them, because they would just be broken again.

This was the third place he had checked. Entering the area after dark, he had slowly moved into position to watch. But something about the place was off. It had a sense of protection. Sean stood back, and waited. It was wrong.

Sean looked at his watch, covered by a leather strap to keep the dial hidden from sight. It was late. After midnight. Instead of the activity of that plant decreasing, it was increasing. The number of cars and trucks had grown over the last hour. Interesting. An old meatpacking plant that had been defunct for over four years should’ve known only silence.

Taking a strong sniff, Sean covered his nose. Ether and other things were in the air. It had the definite odor of comeback, benzocaine and mannitol. He could almost taste the sugar in the air. Sh-it. He was stooling a crystal palace, an ice house. It had to be a Pierce operation turning cocaine to crack. He wasn’t running burners or meth labs, he was cooking up coke in style, readying it for highballing. Sean just closed his eyes and sighed. Great, his next assignment would be pus-sy searching with his hand wrist deep in some woman’s snatch.

Sean reached into his back, along his waistband to check that his cell phone was transmitting its transceiver. If Perdy was being dusted in this manufacturing plant, then it wasn’t looking good for a full extraction. He was going to need help.

Sean cussed under his breath. Who to call dammit? This operation should have hit the grid. It was too big to be ignored, and the powerplant cost alone should have given Vice a clue. That could only mean one thing. Protection. Pierce’s operation was protected from within, and that left Sean standing on the outside. Sticky.

Sean pulled back into the shadows. Tomorrow would be a better day. If he could keep a close watch, eyes steady and on the prize, he could call in the Cavalry tomorrow. Sean just snickered. Yeah, he could see Guerin in a ten gallon hat riding to the rescue. More than likely, it would be driving a tank, guns blazing and setting the world off in a rush of guts and glory.

Looking at the time again, Sean packed it in. Time to retreat to higher ground. He was standing in the backyard and too close for comfort. Death might be a welcomed gal at times, but lately Sean wasn’t feeling that bad. It was better to regroup, find his strengths and enter at a better time. Plus, he promised he wouldn’t charge in without backup.

The snapping of sound behind him alerted him to the presence of someone. Straightening, he tried to reach his call button on his phone to alert dispatch that an Officer was down. But before his had reached the transceiver, the lights went out.

~~~

Michael let himself into the loft just after two in the morning. Maria had left a soft light on for him, and he was glad to see the place was relatively people free. Climbing the stairs, he stooped to give Mr. Boo a pat. Damn cat was sitting on the steps with another dead bird between his paws. It didn’t make sense. The larger the bell they put on that cat, the more birds he caught. It was like the universe was running backwards.

Mr. Boo was no doubt waiting for the perfect moment to present his present to his beloved mistress. Poor Maria. Two dead birds in less than twenty-four hours was too cruel.

“You didn’t shred any more of my socks, did you?” The cat just turned his head and looked the other way. Damn.

Michael came out the bathroom and turned off the light Maria had left on for him. Going to the bed he climbed in and gathered her into his arms. She didn’t even stir. Michael frowned at her and ran his hand over her body. Her skin was cool to the touch. Gathering up the comforter, he covered her with it and mated his body to hers hoping his skin would warm her.

She looked so tired. Her face was lacking its normal resting gentleness. Instead she looked like she was concentrating on sleep. Michael reached down and kissed the top of her head. He had never felt this tired before. It was like he had taken a trip three notches past exhaustion.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the gentle humming sound that recently seemed to lull him to sleep. In the back of his mind he reminded himself that he was going to discover where that sound was coming from. He had come home wanting her, wanting sex and all of her, but sleep and dreams called to him. She was waiting for him there.

They had settled in quietness for awhile when Mr. Booboo came to bed. Normally he would have settled in his favorite place on Michael’s legs, but tonight he stopped to consider for a moment. Then he softly stepped between their two pair of legs until he found the perfect place between them. Depositing his present on the bed he curled up, lulled to sleep with them as he too listened to the humming sounds from where he rested up against Maria’s tummy. His purring increased to match the resonance. They slept.

~~~

The car made its way through the quiet dark streets of Roswell. The man sat behind the wheel and actually waited for the red light to turn green before proceeding. It didn’t matter that there was no one else around, no other cars. Rules were rules. Without them the world ran closer to the edge of chaos.

Thinking of the wrapped body in the trunk, he contemplated where to toss it. It was strange that mere weeks ago he would have stockpiled his refuse until he could find a new Dump. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. It was all about dirt. They deserved to be dumped. So much pain, so much substandard effort. They were encouraging and breeding a world of mediocre bugs. Humans--they were worse than bugs. Bugs spread over the world covering it in all places, but humans were worse. Their numbers were less, but they had all the traits of viruses. They sucked the very life out of their host, Earth, and tossed it aside when it had served its purpose.

Smiling to himself, he knew the perfect place to dump. Time to walk into the hunter's backyard and drop the gauntlet.