by Anne Higgins

'Work with me.' Mac Ramsey resisted the urge to roll his eyes when Victor Mansfield's plan to lure Dobrinsky into an ambush turned down the well-worn path of their unresolved feelings for Li Ann Tsei. What a moron. If Victor had half a brain, he would have figured out Mac had gotten over the third member of their team long ago. It was just so much damned fun giving Victor a hard time about it that he'd not bothered to stop.

Not that this was any fun. Quickly, Victor's ill-chosen path lead to hurtful barbs that left Mac more than relieved when Dobrinsky entered the fray. "Look, will you two shut the hell up," he shouted, rising from the sofa. "The key word in both cases, fellas, is 'loved.' Past tense. As in she loves you no more."

So much for relief. The kicked-puppy look on Victor's face both upset and irritated Mac. How could the guy still want Li Ann when she'd dumped them both flat on their asses? Didn't Victor have any pride?

Worse, Dobrinsky was returning to the sofa and his magazine without even approaching a distance near enough to either of them to risk trying to jump him. 'Great plan, Vic.' Mac opened his mouth to say as much, then got another idea. At the very least it would get rid of the kicked puppy.

"He's right, this is pointless," he said, shifting closer to Victor. "And I don't want to fight."

"You don't?"

"No, baby. I don't."

The puppy did indeed vanish. Instead, a wide-eyed deer stared at him as if he were the proverbial headlights. Mac almost chuckled. He'd never actually seen the expression before, but it was unmistakable.

'Baby?' Victor's lips formed the word, but no sound emerged.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mac could see Dobrinsky echoing the wordless gesture and rising from the sofa. 'Gotcha, big man. Now get over here and separate us.' He gave his nervous partner his best smile. "Almost lost you this morning. You know how crazy that makes me."

He was close enough now to force Victor to tilt his head back a fraction to maintain eye contact. It made him look extremely kissable. A few more sweet words and Dobrinsky would be upon them. They could jump him, escape Mac's apartment and go help The Director and Li Ann track down whoever was trying to kill all the male agents. No, no need at all to do anything else until their baby-sitter was in position. But... ah, what the hell. He could always pass it off as part of his plan.

He gathered Victor into his arms and kissed him. Warm soft lips beneath his own. Mmm. A delightful contrast to the hard muscle of the body he held so close. His own arousal lacked an answering hardness, and the lips did not kiss back, but Mac considered it a good sign he was still kissing Victor and not lying on the floor trying to clear his head enough to start picking up his missing teeth.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dobrinsky's meaty paw jerked at Mac's shoulder, but he only let the momentum of it pull him a few inches backwards, keeping most of his body in close contact with Victor's.

It was Victor's play now. One fast move and Dobrinsky was toast, leaving them free to escape protective custody, never to speak of this moment as anything other than a brilliant ploy on Mac's part.

Victor didn't move, not so much as to blink. His wide, green eyes shone with shock and vulnerability. So it was Mac's choice. He either laughed, passing it all off as a joke to wind up Dobrinsky, or...

He glared at their keeper. "Do you mind? I'm trying to kiss and make up here."

"That's disgusting," the big man snapped, but some of the tension left Victor's body, and Mac snuggled him closer.

He resisted the urge to smile as Victor's head came to rest against his shoulder, but the tremor that followed seemed to have too little to do with arousal for Mac's taste. Victor was afraid. Of him. Every instinct Mac had screamed it. He had to get him into the other room to talk, but first he had to deal with their watchdog.

"What's the matter, Dobrinsky? Love make you nervous?" Another tremor. "Or are you just pissed off that we're not going to punch each other's lights out for your entertainment?"

"You hate each other!"

"It was a game, you moron!" He snapped. "Now, if you'll excuse us." He started to guide Victor toward the bedroom, but Dobrinsky grabbed his arm again.

He jerked free; making certain his other arm kept Victor cuddled close. "Sorry, Dobrinsky, we don't do threesomes."

The bane of Mac's life all but jumped away from him. Whatever wild side the man walked with The Director, it seemed all-male sex wasn't part of it. "TV remote is all yours, man," he told the retreating back. "Knock yourself out."

Victor gave a little jump as Mac started moving again, but didn't resist the slight push steering him towards the bedroom. "It's okay, baby. It's okay."

He got them into the bedroom, and, keeping Victor in the crook of one arm at all times, he closed the panels to block them from Dobrinsky's view.

Victor didn't resist. Not even when Mac eased him down onto the bed, then stretched out next to and on top of him. It felt like heaven. It also hid Victor as much as possible from the eye of the inevitable camera The Director kept positioned over her agents' beds.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Victor finally found his voice. Even if it did squeak a little. Might have been an annoying sound if it weren't part of a whisper, but as it was, Mac found it almost endearing.

"Making love to you," he murmured nuzzling Victor's earlobe.

Victor swallowed hard. "If you're bored--"

"Shhh, I wouldn't do that to you." He kissed Victor's forehead, the tip of his nose, then his mouth. "I won't hurt you."

A snort of disbelief answered him. Unsurprising since, as Mac understood it, pretty much everyone Victor had ever loved had hurt him. But Mac had wanted him from almost the moment they'd met and had put a lot of thought into what bedding the man would mean.

He shifted back so his mouth was near Victor's ear and the faintest of whispers could be heard. "I know you, know what you need."

Another swallow. "What?"

"You need to belong. Well, you belong to me." He rose up so he could look into those green eyes. Let The Director hear this part. Maybe she'd let him listen to the tape. He knew he'd never tire of hearing the words. "You hear me? You belong to me."

Victor stared at him, the shock and fear falling away into probing examination.

Mac smiled. "I love you. Have for a long time." He caressed the side of Victor's face. "Sorry it took me so long to decide to do something about it."

The tension bled out of Victor's body and his arms went around Mac's torso. "You said something about making love."

"Answer me first."

"I'm yours." Victor smiled as if he too liked the sound of it. "Now, shut up and claim me."

The flash of spirit made Mac grin. He did know Victor and knew what he was getting into. In addition to all the sterling qualities that made him an excellent partner on the job, Victor also had a big, trusting heart he gave too easily and unwisely. The pain of those past mistakes made him needful and insecure in any relationship. It also made him a lot of work. Work Li Ann, and those who had come before her, hadn't wanted to do. Mac had been disgusted with Li Ann the numerous times she'd bent his ear on the subject, but it had given him a good idea of what to expect and do. "You're wearing too much, pretty man."

"You going to keep doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Calling me silly names like 'baby' and 'pretty man.'"

Mac grinned again. "What can I say? I'm an affectionate kind of guy."

"Ah." Victor shifted then a boot dropped off the foot of the bed. Another squirm, and a second boot followed. "You'll have to take care of the rest, Ace."

'Ace?' Hmm, Dobrinsky's annoying nickname for Mac sounded quite different coming from Victor. Mac decided he liked it and rewarded his lover with first another kiss, then a smile.

Although eager as a kid on Christmas morning, he managed to restrain himself from pouncing on Victor. He needed to make love, not ravish him. This time. 'Steady, fella,' he told himself, his fingers moving slowly down the length of the soft denim shirt and easing the buttons open while his lips caressed each inch of bared flesh.

He hummed while he worked; Victor purred.

When he ran out of shirt, Mac paused to admire the impressive bulge pressing up against the button fly of Victor's jeans. Within seconds looking wasn't enough, and he went to work on those buttons. That finished, he hooked his thumbs around the waistbands of the jeans and the boxers beneath them, then said, "Lift up, baby."

Victor's legs tensed and his hips rose.

Mac pulled down, baring Victor to his thighs. He stopped again to admire the view, then nuzzled the hard shaft, filling his lungs with Victor's scent. A loud groan made him smirk, then before Victor could quite grab hold of his head, Mac shifted downward.

"Mac," Victor wailed.

"Patience, my lovely," he murmured, licking strong, firm thighs.

"Sadist. Oh, God..."

A kiss to each knee, then he pushed cloth down further to nuzzle the back of each calf. He snagged Victor's socks when he reached his victim's feet, and a quick jerk left Victor naked except for the arms still encased in the denim shirt. Opting to draw the line at sucking on toes which had spent most of the day trapped in boots, he stood up to survey his handiwork.

Bright eyes, flushed face, chest rising and falling in a rhythm bordering on panting, and--best of all--a gorgeous cock weeping with need for him. Life was sweet. "Mac..."

"Shhh. Watch me, baby. See what I have for you." He opted not to try to make getting out of a sweater look sexy and simply stripped off the maroon cashmere pullover, then dropped it to the floor. He ran his hands down his bare chest, caressing nipples already hard with arousal.

"Mac," Victor moaned, his hand straying toward his own cock.

"Don't touch," he said with as stern a look as he could manage when his entire body was tingling with pleasure. "Just watch."

A sound very close to a whimper answered him, but Victor let his hand drop back to his side.

Deciding to reward obedience, Mac let his own hands move to his trousers. Button open, zipper down, a tug here, a wiggle there, then he stepped out of both slacks and underwear.

Victor's eyes roved over his body, and Mac almost came from the hunger smouldering in the green gaze. "Please," he whispered holding out his arms for Mac.

Unable to resist the invitation, Mac knelt on the mattress. He dealt with his socks quickly, then crawled up both the length of the bed and Victor's body. He lost himself for a time in the delicious depths of Victor's mouth, but the hardness pressed against his own couldn't be ignored for long. He lifted up on one elbow so he could see Victor's face while his free hand roamed.

"How do you want to come, baby?" he asked. He nipped Victor's earlobe, then gently tugged on the gold earring decorating it. "In my mouth?" He ran a finger down the underside of Victor's cock. "In my hand?" His finger kept going, over the balls, then to the opening he ached to breech.

Victor arched up against him at the intimate touch. "Like that," he gasped. "With you in me."

He couldn't see any doubt or fear in Victor's eyes. Maybe he'd gotten lucky and Victor really did want it exactly the way he did. Or Victor was better at hiding how he felt than Mac thought. But he'd asked and been answered. No reason to hesitate. Especially since doing so might be misinterpreted as rejection. Or was he simply rationalizing because he was going to die if he didn't get himself buried in his lover's tight heat? He'd figure it out later.

He reached over to the nightstand and rummaged around in the top drawer for something to add to the lubrication of his favourite brand of condoms. He settled on a thick hand cream he'd bought to get through last winter's near terminal case of chapped skin.

'Condom in place, goo on the fingers, time for distraction mode.' He kissed, nuzzled and caressed while he prepared Victor. Tight. Very tight. Tight enough to make Mac think his partner had never done this before or, if he had, he hadn't liked it. An alarm bell began to ring in the back of Mac's brain, but before it could ring loudly enough to make him stop, Victor buried his face in Mac's neck and took a deep breath. As Victor exhaled, the body beneath Mac relaxed, allowing the third finger.

"Do it now, Mac," he whispered, then took another deep breath.

Mac positioned himself, then pushed inward when Victor exhaled. A slow, but steady entry. No pauses, no haste. No out and out signs of pain marred Victor's features, but Mac saw no trace of pleasure either.

Buried to the hilt in paradise, Mac didn't quite know what to do. His body said, 'thrust' so emphatically, he wanted to whimper. But his brain said, 'Don't move; wait.'

Long eyelashes fluttered against Mac's neck, then Victor lay back on the pillow and stared intently into Mac's eyes. "It's you."

Mac resisted the urge to blink in confusion. An odd thing to say, but instinct told him to re-enforce it. "Yeah, baby, it's me." He bent down, kissed him, then moved back so Victor could see his face. "It's me. And I love you."

The eyes closed. Victor pulled him close, then whispered in his ear. "So move."

He reached toward Victor's cock, which had softened during the penetration, but Victor grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers. "Don't touch," he repeated Mac's earlier words. "Just move. I need to feel you."

Certain this wasn't a good idea, but unable to resist both Victor's commands and the urging of his own body, he began a gentle rocking. An inch out, then back in. Slow, steady. In. Out. Two inches. No faster. Three. More speed. Four inches. Victor was hard again. Time to make certain he stayed that way. Five inches and shift the angle a little.

"Oh, God!" Victor gasped, his eyes going wide.

Got it on the first try. Mac grinned in triumph and kept moving, making certain every thrust made contact with Victor's prostate. Soon he had his lover writhing beneath him, Victor's fingers tightening around his own to a near painful degree.

Victor came with a wordless shout, both the sound and the shudders of his climax, pulling Mac over the edge as well.

Mac collapsed for a moment, bracing himself as best he could to keep from crushing his lover. When his head cleared enough to let him move again, he began to pull out of Victor with the same care he'd used to enter him.

Victor's arms and legs tightened around him, holding him motionless. "You'll do that again?"

Mac smiled at him. "Every chance I get."

"Good." Victor relaxed, allowing Mac to finish withdrawing. A soft whimper as the head of Mac's cock pulled free, then Victor shifted curling up against Mac. "Nap time."

Mac sighed, content. Snuggling Victor into his arms, he decided a nap sounded like a marvellous idea.

It was still light when Victor opened his eyes. No, not still. Again. It wasn't the dwindling light of approaching twilight streaming through the bedroom, but the morning sun. They'd slept through the night.

They. He was in Mac's arms. The man undoubtedly had a numb limb or two to pay for the gesture. One more thing to deal with when Mac woke up. Oh, God, this wouldn't be pretty. Victor couldn't begin to deny it had been good between them, but he wasn't so certain Mac wouldn't find a way.

Sweet words before climax never counted or never trust a man with a hard on. Not the wisest pearls of wisdom for him to forget, but he'd been in love with Mac for a long time. It had made him stupid. Morning light tended to point out such things. Now he could either wait until Mac woke up and face the music or run for it now.

The body he rested against shifted then did so again. It occurred to him similar movements had woke him up. Oh, he didn't have to wait--Mac was already awake. "Mac?"

"Oh, thank you, thank you." Mac's mutter seemed aimed at some higher power, then he shifted, and directed his attention to Victor. "Baby, I've got to get up before I spill."

"Huh?"

A quick kiss on his forehead, then Mac fairly erupted from the bed and dashed to the bathroom.

Victor sat up staring after him in bewilderment, then he heard the distinct sound of an impressive stream striking water. A smile began to spread slowly across his face. It had reached grin proportions by the time Mac finished and returned to the bed.

"What?" he asked, his arms snaking around Victor's waist.

"You didn't want me to wake up alone."

Mac looked embarrassed then fell back onto the mattress, dragging Victor with him.

Deciding to have mercy, Victor kept quiet and settled in to enjoy snuggling. But something was nagging at him. "Mac?"

"Yeah?"

"You really think I'm a goof?"

"Did," Mac said without hesitation.

Victor stiffened, but the arms around him refused to let him pull away.

"Hey, I figured anyone who loved Li Ann instead of me, had to be a goof."

"That really the reason?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm not a goof."

A kiss pressed against the top of his head. "Guess not."

He sighed happily, then couldn't resist adding, "But you're still argumentative."

Silence, then, "Am not."

"Are so."

"Not."

"A--"

Mac shifted suddenly, throwing Victor back onto the mattress, then he pounced. Fingers skittered across Victor's ribs in a teasing touch. He jerked, he squirmed, and they both laughed until they cried.

Mac smiled as he dressed. Life was good. The tickle fight had led to other things. So had the shower afterwards. Damn, he loved the feeling of having Victor in his arms, of being inside his body. Not for the first time, he thought of what a fool Li Ann was. Well, Mac Ramsey might be irresponsible, egotistical, immature and argumentative, but he was no fool.

He turned around in time to watch Victor pulling on a clean shirt. A baggy olive coloured one to replace the baggy denim one from yesterday. Hmm. Suddenly he understood why some women insisted on dressing their men. Ah, well, wardrobe failure was something Mac could fix easily enough, but he'd need to be sneaky about it. One item at a time. No more than once or twice a month. A trial when he wanted to burn Victor's closet to the ground and go on a shopping spree, but survivable.

"What?" Victor asked, letting Mac know he'd been staring.

"Just enjoying the view," he said with a smile.

The smile Victor returned was slight and revealed equal measures of discomfort and disbelief.

Mac didn't like it at all, and made a mental note to compliment Victor often. Starting now. "Hey, pretty man," he said, walking over to Victor, "I need a kiss."

Victor complied with an ego-boosting eagerness, and when he drew back his eyelashes fanned over his eyes in a way that made Mac think of a contented cat.

"You have to most beautiful eyes I've ever seen," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to each eyelid.

Victor's smile was a little more genuine, but doubt lingered. Time and patience, Mac reminded himself. He'd known that's what it would take before he'd even thought of his plan to distract Dobrinsky.

He groaned.

"What?" Victor asked.

"Dobrinsky."

Victor frowned. "That's not something I ever expected you to whisper in my ear."

"He's still out there."

"Oh. We could stay in here?"

"Not if we want to eat."

Victor sighed, thought a moment, then said, "Okay, here's the plan. We raid the kitchen, grab everything we can, then hide in here until The Director let's us go."

"Good plan." He gave Victor a big smooch. "For luck."

Victor gave him a look.

"Hey, I saw it in a movie. Now, let's go."

Mac pulled open the central panel and peered out into the living room. "Coast looks clear."

"Not good."

"Huh?"

"Mac, your apartment only has so many rooms. If he's not in the living room, he's either in the guest bath or the kitchen."

"Oh. You got your gun?"

"Yeah."

"I say we go for it."

"You that hungry?"

"Hey, what can I say? I've got a hot number draining all my energy. I need to refuel."

"You're impossible."

"Daddy's got to eat to keep baby happy."

"I could grow to intensely dislike that pet name."

"Would only increase the joy of using it. Now, focus, Vic. I need food."

He sighed. "Cover me."

"Not until after I've eaten."

"Spare me the humour," Victor muttered, then stepped out into the room.

Mac followed. The bathroom door stood open. No Dobrinsky. "He must be in the kitchen."

"Stay here."

Mac grabbed his arm. "And let you face him alone? I don't think so."

"He doesn't hate me as much as you."

"That was before you slept with the enemy."

"I'll scream if I need rescuing."

"No screaming unless I'm responsible."

"I thought you wanted food."

"I'm changing my mind."

Victor snorted. "Then 'baby' will keep all the fuel for himself. I'm not going back into that bed without at least a box of crackers."

"Vic, I didn't know you were kinky."

"Shut up and stay."

Mac made a soft, barking sound.

Victor shook his head, then stalked toward the kitchen. He stopped halfway there--a spot Mac knew had a good view of the kitchen nook--and frowned. "He's not there."

"Huh? He has to be," Mac insisted, joining him, but no, Victor was right, the kitchen was empty. Which meant Dobrinsky wasn't in the apartment. Mac turned on his heel and hurried over to the front door. A quick check of the hallway and he announced, "The guard's gone, too."

"They must have wrapped up the case."

As if on cue--and, of course, The Director never could resist one--the phone rang.

Mac sighed, gave Victor a 'you just had to say it' glare, then snatched up his phone. "Ramsey."

"Since you boys have come up for air," The Director's throaty voice purred over the line, "you might as well report in."

Not wanting to waste time guessing where the camera in this room was, Mac aimed his look of intense dislike at the phone. "I trust we've kept you entertained."

"Oh, my, yes. He does seem to inspire you."

Some day, he would kill her. He really would. But not until after he got copies of the tapes. "Then I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear we're taking the rest of the day off. Consider it the price of admission." He hung up the phone before she could answer.

"She'll kill us."

He smiled. "Nah, there's nothing good on television this week."

Victor blushed, obviously not as nonchalant about the hidden cameras, but there wasn't anything they could do. Mac had learned as much when he'd rebelled enough to try and clean out his apartment. No matter how many devices he found, he was always greeted the next morning with a full report of the previous evening's activities. He'd found the reports more tedious than the cameras embarrassed him, so he'd given up.

The phone rang, and he picked a random spot on the ceiling to speak to. "I'll take him to a hotel."

A second ring while the Leather Queen undoubtedly considered the chances of them finding a hotel she didn't have bugged, then it cut off mid-way through the third ring. Hmm, better odds than he'd thought. Maybe he'd treat Victor to some privacy on their anniversary.

Grinning in triumph, he turned his attention to his lover and found Victor staring at the floor, his face glowing bright red. "Um, ba--Vic, you did know about the surveillance stuff, didn't you?"

To his relief Victor nodded. "I just..." He sighed. "I try not to think about it."

"Me, too. But sometimes it comes in handy." He slung his arm around Victor's shoulder. "Let's get something to eat, then maybe we can come up with something else to think about."

The Director watched Mac waggle his eyebrows, listened to Victor laugh, and frowned. While the show was undeniably delicious, she wasn't certain how she felt about this burgeoning relationship.

Her files were appallingly complete, and Mac was young. Perhaps too young to deal with Victor Mansfield. Li Ann certainly had been.

She regretted allowing that relationship. On the surface Li Ann had seemed like someone who could handle it, but she had proven herself fairly shallow on the personal interaction front. Fortunately, Victor had taken the break-up far better than she had expected, but she'd suspected it had been because he was falling in love with Mac. Beyond the obvious visual delights, she took no satisfaction in being proven right.

If she read Victor correctly, Mac Ramsey would either save him or destroy him. Was the chance of the first worth the risk of the second? Of course, she'd always known Victor would self-destruct one day, but she'd planned to use it to her advantage. A part of her continued to cling to the notion, but despite her efforts to the contrary, she'd grown fairly fond of the members of her most troublesome team. Fondness lacing her pity for Victor made it difficult for her not to give into protective urges. Perhaps she should stand back and let things happen. Either result should give her the room she'd need to absolve herself of responsibility for the troubled man's fate.

Another glance at the monitor showed her lambs had moved into the kitchen, raiding the refrigerator between nibbling on each other. How precious. Not much chance of interference working at this point. She needed them beyond the first glow before making her move. If she decided to make a move. In the meantime, she could build up her video collection.

She remained comfortable with her decision not to make a decision for the rest of the week. Fortunately things were slow, leaving her with no real need for all three members of the Ramsey-Mansfield-Tsei team. Of course, Mac would have been perfect to send after the transsexual assassin ring, but assigning Dobrinsky to help Li Ann suited her sense of irony. It would be a long time before her right-hand man would be foolish enough to bet against her again. She'd told him time and time again all that hostility was nothing more than a cover, but he'd insisted it was honest hatred.

The thought of Dobrinsky's fate kept her amused most of the day. Some might have dared to describe her mood as good when the proximity alarm for Victor's front door pinged. Curious she activated the monitor and an anxious looking blonde wrapped in a blanket or sheet filled the screen.

Victor gasped his release, his seed spilling on the mattress beneath him as he struggled to keep his knees from giving out. Mac's bellow of triumph, followed by most of his weight pressing down on Victor's back didn't help matters. If he hadn't found the notion of collapsing onto the wet spot distasteful, he might have given in, but he managed to stay on his hands and knees. "Mac?"

"Mmm?" came the lazy reply along with a nuzzling of lips against the back of his neck.

"I'm going to fall."

"Huh? Oh, sorry, baby." Mac shifted to sit back on his heels, his cock slipping free of Victor's body as he moved.

With a sigh of relief, Victor manoeuvred around to lie on his back--a good foot away from the wet spot. Satisfied with his level of comfort, he titled his head back and his lips upward in a demand for a kiss.

Mac obliged him, murmured a few nonsensical words about how sexy and wonderful Victor was, then returned to his kneeling position. With annoying ease, Mac stripped off the condom, knotted it, then tossed it into the trash along with the rest of the used rubbers. It was a fairly impressive collection, but, despite the pleasure each discard represented, Victor hated the sight of them.

He wanted to feel Mac's flesh sliding into him, feel the teasing trickle of spent seed oozing from his body. Not... plastic. No, it wasn't as bad as that. Mac moving against him was nothing like making do with toys, but it was so far from what Victor wanted... He wanted to speak of blood tests and eliminating the need for safe sex. It was the most absurd fantasy he'd ever had. Which was saying a lot.

Mac had told him he knew him, knew what he needed. Translation--he knew what Victor had needed to hear and had said the pretty words. They meant nothing. Mac was a passionate man, but he fell in and out of love too easily, and was too fond of beautiful, unobtainable things.

While Victor had never qualified for the beautiful part, he had been firmly in the unobtainable category until yesterday afternoon. Soon Mac would move him to the 'well, that was fun, time to try something else' list. He didn't even want to think about how much it was going to hurt.

"What's wrong?" Warm lips caressed his temple as Mac stretched out beside him.

"Nothing," he answered, then decided it didn't sound too convincing. He forced a smile, Mac's arms moving around him giving it a genuine quality. "You've just worn me out."

"That's the problem with you old guys--no stamina." Before Victor could come up with a suitable retort, Mac lost control over a huge yawn and both men chuckled. "Guess I need to work on my timing."

"Might be a good idea." Victor yawned himself, then snuggled close to Mac. "Sleep now?"

"Mmm, sleep now." He pressed a kiss to Victor's forehead. "Love you."

Sweet words. If only he could believe in them. "I love you, too."

A soft sigh of contentment, then Mac drifted off. Victor would have liked to follow--he was exhausted--but sleep eluded him. His mind was too busy conjuring up every possible way Mac could tell him he wanted to end it.

After an hour of this he remained wide-awake and was sinking into a depression. With the regret of someone who feared each casual embrace was the last, he slipped out of Mac's arms and his bed.

In his sleep, Mac reached for him, but seemed perfectly happy when Victor put a pillow within his reach. There was a metaphor in that, Victor was certain of it, but he didn't have the energy left to figure it out.

Needing to get away from the bedroom, he headed for the kitchen. Coffee? No, not if he wanted any hope of sleeping. Maybe one of those weird herbal teas Mac liked. Quietly, Victor put the kettle on, then went through the cabinets and found the tea stash. A sniff here, a sniff there and he came up with something he thought smelled drinkable.

To his mild surprise, he found the first sip not only tolerable, but pleasant. Maybe it would do what the box promised and help him to unwind. Collecting his mug, he padded into the living room.

Somehow--perhaps because he'd been waiting for her to show for days--he managed not to make a sound or spill a drop when the lamp near the chair switched on. Once his eyes had adjusted to the light, he said, "I expected you over three hours ago."

The Director gave him a long look, obviously enjoying the sight of him standing there stark naked. Well, he couldn't have that. With a defiant glare, he sat down on the sofa and pulled an afghan over his chest and lap. Getting a small thrill out of spoiling her fun, he made her wait through a few more sips of tea, then said, "So how many days am I suspended?"

It was the way she normally punished him. Which was stupid. The 'shadowy government agency' they both worked for provided for all his basic needs. The most a suspension deprived him of was something to do so he sat around his apartment contemplating things like what kind of agency was so secret it didn't have a name and could they start using the acronym SGA?

"Now, Victor, did I say anything about punishing you?"

"We've failed to report for duty for almost four days. That should be worth a week of thinking for me, and two of Mac doing Dobrinsky's bidding." No suspensions for his Mac. No, his lover was always handed over to do dirty jobs like cleaning sump pumps or washing cars. Make Mansfield think; make Ramsey sweat.

"I'm afraid poor Dobrinsky is still a little too shaken to come up with an adequate task for our Mr. Ramsey."

Smiling was undoubtedly a mistake, but Victor couldn't help himself. Mac had finally gotten the better of Dobrinsky. Victor figured his contribution to the victory would keep Mac interested in him for at least another week. Maybe two. Cheered somewhat by this line of thought, he decided he had the energy to be direct. "So, if it's not to announce our punishments, why are you here?"

"To give you this," she said, tossing him a thick white envelope which jingled as he caught it. "Keys and directions to the executive retreat. Luxury cabin on a lake, secluded and no surveillance devices." She smiled slightly. "Or at least none I've ever been able to find."

Victor stared at her.

She seemed not to notice. "I'm giving you and Mac another week together. I don't care what the state of your relationship is when you return as long as you get it to the point it doesn't interfere with your work."

It almost made sense. Perhaps too much sense. "Why do I suspect ulterior motives?"

A smirk answered him. "Because I don't waste my time employing fools." She stood up, her movements artfully displaying long legs encased in leather trousers. "Let us just say that it would be best for all of us if someone," she glanced toward the bedroom, "were incognito for a few days. The past can be such a messy burden."

Alarm made Victor's stomach twist. "The Tangs?"

She shook her head. "Not quite as deadly, but she does have a rather intriguing accent." She opened the front door, then gave him a long look. "Take him away from here, Victor. The locals can help the damsel in distress, and I don't want the agency involved in her little games."

On the way out, she flipped the light switch, plunging the apartment back into darkness.

His mug of tea cooling in his hand, Victor sat there. Thinking. About what he knew of Mac's past, and of The Director's fondness for clever evasion. After an hour or so, he set the mug aside and reached for the phone.

Mac woke to the sound of someone moving around the bedroom with the exaggerated care needed to dress in darkness without making much noise. "Vic?" he muttered, pushing away the Victor-scented pillow he'd apparently been clutching in his sleep.

"Sorry, Mac," Vic whispered, leaning over the bed to kiss him.

Always one to take advantage of a situation, Mac grabbed him, pulling his now fully clothed lover down on top of him. Victor melted into his embrace and the following kiss, but he squirmed away when Mac tried to rid him of the clothes he'd just finished putting on. "Vic," he growled, finding his arms annoyingly empty.

"I'm sorry, but I've got to run home."

Mac frowned and glanced at the clock on his nightstand. "At 3 a.m.?" he asked, turning on the lamp, making them both blink in the sudden brightness.

"The Director came by. And I got suspicious so I called my answering machine. Gloria's in trouble and--"

"Stop!" Mac ordered holding up his hand, not awake enough to absorb the babbling. "Let me get dressed and you can explain in the car."

"'Car?' Mac, you don't have to get up. I--"

This time he silenced Victor with a dark look. The last thing Mac wanted to do was drag himself out of bed at this hour in the morning when they could be doing some serious snuggling, but his lover was obviously agitated. He'd also said the secret words--'The Director.' Mac had learned quickly that trusting in any situation where she was involved came under the heading of a major bad idea. So, if Victor was determined to escape their love nest, then he was damned well going with him.

Mac also insisted on driving, leaving Victor's truck in the parking lot beneath Mac's apartment building. Having control of the only means of immediate transportation might come in handy. Besides, it also meant that no matter what happened, Victor would have to return to Mac's building at least once. Insecurity wasn't exactly Mac's middle name, but he'd also processed that this was about some woman. "So who's Gloria?" he asked when they were about halfway to Victor's place.

His lover jumped at the sudden break in the silence which had reigned since Mac had announced he was going with him. "An old friend."

"Old friend or old girlfriend?"

"Old girlfriend of an old friend."

"So where's the old friend in the lady's hour of need."

"Prison," Victor answered. "Donny's in prison. Guilty of what I wasn't."

They hadn't talked about Victor's past, but Mac knew the bare bones of it. Victor had been a narcotics detective for a relatively short period of time when drugs had gone missing and the evidence had pointed to him. Even when Mac hadn't liked the man, he'd had no trouble believing Victor had been the victim of a set up. He wasn't the type to be a corrupt cop. Mac almost laughed. One thing his own criminal background had done was make him a good judge of cops. Even when he didn't want to be.

"Okay, so how did we get involved in all of this?"

As he listened in growing disbelief, Victor told him about The Director's late night visit. Mac had heard stories about the executive retreat. Luxurious didn't begin to cover it. The idea of having Victor alone there was very close to Mac's idea of paradise. "And why aren't we on our way to nirvana?" Hey, he knew there was a catch. This was The Director they were talking about, but there were ways around such things.

"She tried to make it sound like someone from your past had popped up, but after she'd left I realized she'd never directly referred to you," Victor answered. "So I got to thinking it might really be me she wanted out of town. On a hunch, I checked my answering machine."

"Enter Gloria," Mac muttered. He already didn't like the sound of this. Lying by evasion was one of The Director's true talents. No way she'd be so coy and obvious. And if there wasn't some way she could erase the messages on their answering machines from across the country, he'd eat his sports car. It all smelled of a scheme within a plan within a puzzle. He hated that.

"Yeah, she turned up on my doorstep around midnight. One of my neighbours took her in for the night."

"She that important to you?" Something else not to like.

"Might have been five years ago. Might have been five days ago." His hand covered Mac's on the gear shift. "Now, I just need to know what's going on, and why The Director was so anxious for me to find out about it."

Mac managed to hold in his sigh of relief, but his silence must have been telling.

"I don't believe this!" Victor snatched his hand away. "You thought I didn't know she was playing me. What sort of idiot wouldn't know that! Gloria was an art student, not a member of the Tangs. She'd have been gone by morning with no idea of where to find me if not for The Director's visit."

Damn. Victor was the brains of this duo. Needing some coddling in the bedroom didn't change that, yet Mac had let himself start to think otherwise. Not a mistake he'd make again. "Hey, I'm sorry. I'm half-asleep and still in protective mode. Give me a chance to shake both conditions, and I promise I'll do better."

Victor didn't answer him, his attention firmly on the view out the passenger window.

Great. Just great. They were about to walk into some situation with some woman Victor obviously once had the hots for while Victor was ticked off at him. Could this day get any worse? And was there anything more depressing than 'one of those days' lining up when dawn was a good two hours away?

He pulled into Victor's assigned parking place and glared at his apartment building. Somewhere in that building the mysterious Gloria lay in waiting. He supposed it would be too much to hope for that she'd become a nun or something. The passenger door opening snapped him out of his impending mood, and he quickly followed Victor to the building entrance. If the security door closed before Mac reached it, he'd have to pick the lock. No big deal, but he didn't know which neighbour had the prize and he doubted the residents would take kindly to his conducting an apartment to apartment search at this time in the morning.

So intent was he on catching up, he almost collided with Victor when he paused to wait for Mac. To his relief, Victor used the unexpected contact to turn and snuggle up to him. "I like it when you're in protective mode," he whispered, resting his head against Mac's shoulder. "But--"

"Time and place, right?"

"Right."

"Gotcha." Mac sealed the bargain with a kiss. Pleased with himself, he followed Victor to his floor and the door of the apartment across the hall from his own. "Shouldn't we wait until morning?" he asked as Victor rang the bell.

"Probably, but I've got this guy pegged as one of The Director's security stooges. Doesn't make me feel very polite."

Mac nodded his agreement. He figured there was at least one, if not two or three, of those types in his own building. He'd never bothered to protest about it because he knew Ms. Stiletto would either deny it or purr they were there for his protection while she copped another feel. Even for him, some things came under the category of 'why bother?'--Unless he was in the mood to get groped.

He smirked to himself, but the feeling didn't last longer than the door opening to reveal a rather exotic looking blonde. Perhaps he'd made his bargain with Victor too soon?

"Victor, you came!" she breathed in a lilting accent that had a tendency to make a man want to curl his toes.

Mac scowled as Victor was enveloped in her embrace and downgraded their bargain to bum deal. This was definitely one of those moments when a possessive snarl would have been a nice touch, but he supposed he should try to behave for at least a few hours after promising to do so. Nope, he couldn't snarl, seize, mark or otherwise pounce on his mate. Instead, he followed the two of them back to Victor's apartment, dropped into the nearest chair and settled into a long, satisfying sulk.

He grunted a greeting when Victor formally introduced him to Gloria Cadot, then grit his teeth to keep from commenting on her technique as she tried to seduce Victor into helping her escape a dire threat. Apparently a fellow art dealer wanted to break her high cheekbones. Mac understood the feeling.

To his disgust, but not his surprise, the lesson in feminine wiles ended with Victor agreeing to pay a visit to the lovely man who wanted to dump Gloria down the nearest elevator shaft. Imagining the moment put the first smile on his face since he'd laid eyes on the woman.

He glanced at the clock and discovered he'd been good through almost two hours worth of reminiscing and flirting. Enough was enough. "Too early to go visiting, Vic," he said, nodding to the window where dawn was beginning to break. "How about we get a couple more hours of sleep?"

Victor nodded and stood up.

Either ignoring or misunderstanding the significance of Mac's presence, Gloria gave Victor a wistful, come hither look. Caught between that and Mac's glare, Victor froze, giving Mac a chance to announce, "I'll just get our guest a pillow and a blanket."

He took a chance on what he needed being in the hall closet, then fought a small crow of triumph as it did indeed yield the required linens. Mac snatched them up, then all but shoved them into Gloria's arms. "Night," he said, then tugged Victor after him into the bedroom.

Victor walked into the Kingman Gallery with Mac on his heels. He didn't know whether to laugh or start shouting. Sulking and rudeness did not come under Victor's definition of appropriate behaviour. On the other hand, while he hoped he'd hidden it better than Mac had his feelings, Gloria had shaken him.

A part of him had listened to her melodious voice speak of the old days as if there had been something special between them and had wanted to believe in it with a pathetic level of desperation. The rest of him had known he was being played by a pro. The worst thing was he suspected the desperation would have won the day if not for Mac.

Angry with Mac and hating himself for being so pathetic, he'd opted not to speak to him while they'd pretended to sleep, but he had snuggled up into his arms, using body language to insist Mac hold him close. Mac had done so. Which brought them to this gallery, irritated with one another at the same time they wanted to crawl inside each other's skin.

Knowing Mac needed to blow off some steam, Victor left the hired stooge to him and headed for the office area. He heard a thud, then a crash, and winced at the thought of what might have been broken. Mac must have used some fancy move that required a lot of room. He loved the man. He really did, but subtlety was not one of Mac's strong points. Of course, subtlety could be highly overrated.

He opted for some verbal strong armed tactics with Kingman. Made him think he was with the police, then let him worry that he wasn't, but in any case he made it clear he was the man to deal with. Most of all, he tried to give his opponent the feeling that Gloria was the only thing he truly cared about. Not difficult to do since even with Mac around he was fighting the urge to believe in her enough to trust she wanted him. Someone to want him after Mac came to his senses and dumped him for the pathetic loser he was. In any case, Kingman bought the act and told him what he wanted to know. Even gave him a photo of the object in question.

"Stolen, right?" he asked, handing the large envelope to Mac the moment they were back in the car.

Mac pulled out the photo, then snorted. "Oh, yeah. From the royal house of Thailand no less."

"That makes it international. But it usually requires more than that to get The Director involved." Victor shook his head. "It still doesn't make any sense." Had he been wrong? Was it nothing more than paranoia to think The Director was trying to manipulate him? "Maybe she just likes toying with us and there's no better reason."

"Whatever. Can we get rid of Gloria now?"

Victor rolled his eyes. Strong, handsome, brave, but never a model of maturity. "As soon as we find out who she sold the statue to. Then we can turn her over to the local authorities."

Mac made disgruntled noises, but he kept out of the way while Victor manoeuvred Gloria into giving him the answer. By sunset Gloria and Kingman were in jail awaiting arraignment and the Thai consulate had been informed of the missing statue's whereabouts.

Victor decided to work through the depression this caused by having Mac drag him off to bed at an obscenely early hour. Despite his lover's spectacular efforts to exhaust him, Victor was awake to watch the clock move from 1:59 a.m. to 2.

His sigh caused Mac to tighten his embrace. "What's wrong, baby?" he asked, his lips brushing against Victor's neck. "She can't have meant that much to you."

Mac's tone dripped of a demand for reason. Had their situations been reversed, Victor knew his own words would have been a fearful whine--if he could find the courage to even speak them. "No, I love you." A sense of near pride swept through him at the lack of tremor in his voice. He loved Mac, but Mac would leave him.

"I love you, too."

He wanted to believe. Oh, how he wanted to believe. Instead he found himself wondering how many people Mac had said those words to and how long he'd stayed with each of them. Maybe Gloria had simply been more honest than Mac. She'd used him with every intention of discarding him. Mac pretended otherwise, but in the end Victor would end up alone with his heart torn to shreds. Family, friends, lovers--it never failed. Something about him wasn't worth loving.

His eyes burned, but they did not tear up. Although often given cause, he never cried in the presence of others. Odd as it seemed, even a pathetic waste like him had a small measure of pride. A cold comfort in and even colder existence, but it was all he had. "Go to sleep, Mac," he whispered, afraid his voice would betray him if he spoke louder. "I'm fine."

Mac cuddled him even closer. "I'll figure it out, you know."

"Figure what out?"

"How to convince you I really do love you."

Victor almost smiled. "I already do." Not a lie really. He thought Mac might believe he loved Victor. But belief and truth could be two totally different things.

The Director contemplated the blankness of the ceiling above her inner sanctum and considered replacing all the bland beige with a mirror or two. Might come in handy the next time she allowed Dobrinsky to come upstairs. She smiled slightly. The man did have an endearing way of restoring her good will. But back to business.

With a resigned sigh, she shifted her gaze to the latest in a long line of reports to hit her desk. This one dealt with the bellows of a company which had fallen victim to industrial espionage. Normally nothing of interest to her. As far as she was concerned it was all part of doing business. No, she didn't mind the crime, but the item stolen did catch her attention. A C15 detonator. A nasty little device which when combined with Isotope U235 made a very effective nuclear hand grenade.

To her consternation, a sample of that very isotope had gone missing a matter of days after the company started wailing about their plans being stolen. Not good. Not good at all. But at least they had a suspect--Claire Holland, a noted consultant The Director had long suspected of industrial espionage. It seemed Ms. Holland had gained access to the plans in the course of her legitimate job. Yes, The Director was certain the woman was the solution to half the puzzle, but that left the theft of the isotope to deal with. No suspects there.

A trap was needed. If the intelligence gathered on the suspect were to be believed, she was not only a talented thief, but a lonely one. It might prove useful to have someone get closer to her. She pulled out the photo of the attractive blonde. The task shouldn't prove too distasteful for one of her agents, but which one?

She mentally ran through the list, then frowned at herself when she realized she'd left her two best men off of it. Mac and Victor. Or rather Mac. Victor's profile would never allow for a successful honey trap operation--too great a risk of empathy with the subject--but Mac would have easily been her first choice less than a month ago.

"I must be going soft," she said to herself. Soft in the head. Love was all well and good, but this job required sacrifices. It was time she reminded her boys of that not to mention how useful it might be for them to get a good look at how Mac would handle temptation. Her decision made, she reached for her phone.

Mac stared at The Director in disbelief. He'd been prepared to be outraged on Li Ann's behalf as soon as their slinky boss had announced their current assignment would involve a honey trap. No way was he going to let Li Ann go through that. Victor and Li Ann agreed--a first for this team--but all for naught.

The unsuspecting bee in question was a woman, and Mac the lure to draw her in. At another time he might have cackled with glee over an assignment all but ordering him into a beautiful woman's bed. Instead his stomach churned. Not in distaste. Love had made him neither blind nor less appreciative of the female form. No, the reason acid ate at his stomach lining was pure worry.

A single glance told him the tale. Victor's face had drained of all colour, his stare riveted on the image of the woman Mac needed to seduce. Damn it, they'd had less than three weeks together. They weren't ready to handle this sort of operation. And she knew it.

He glared at The Director. Bedroom confessions happened in fiction, not real life. Or at least not within the day or two they had to solve this one. Sex might get him through the door, but the odds against it getting him any answers made it far from worth causing Victor any pain. He considered pointing that out. Considered demanding she at least find someone else... someone not currently in the room to do it.

She smiled at him, and he knew. She was waiting for a protest. Waiting for him not to do his job and give her an excuse to break up his relationship with Victor, perhaps even the team itself. 'Bitch,' he thought, hoping his eyes were broadcasting the message loud and clear.

She smiled harder, a smugness entering the mix.

Fine. She wanted to mess up his life; he'd do what he could to mess up her plans. "I'll see what I can do," he said with a silky smile.

Her eyebrow arched. The smug smile vanished into a 'what are you up to?' gaze.

He responded with a 'worry about it' cock of his head.

She sighed. "On your way, children," she announced with a shooing motion of her hand. "There's work to be done."

Victor leapt to his feet and bolted for the door.

Mac had expected as much and used his long legs to his advantage, catching up to his lover before he could make his escape. He let Victor pull him out into the hallway, then he dug his heels in and jerked him around and up against the wall.

Victor gasped at the impact, although Mac made certain he didn't hit hard enough to hurt him, but it did get his lovely lips parted.

"I love you," he growled, then swooped down to capture the delectable mouth in the most possessive kiss he could manage. 'Mission accomplished,' he thought when Victor all but collapsed against him, his arms going around Mac to tighten their embrace to an extent that not even air molecules could separate them.

Li Ann succeeded where the molecules failed. "Oh, my God!"

Her shout caused them to jerk apart and spin around to face whatever dire threat had invaded the building. Instead Mac discovered the hallway empty of anything but a gaping Li Ann. Oh, yeah. She didn't know as they hadn't gotten around to telling her.

He tried to think of something to say, but the best he could do was, "Uh..." How helpful. 'Focus, Ramsey, focus! And grab the pretty man while you're at it.' With a sigh, he caught hold of Victor's arm, preventing him from slinking away. A pull reeled him in enough for Mac to tuck him into a one-armed embrace very similar to the one he'd used when confronting Dobrinsky. "Sorry, Li Ann," he said once he'd prevented Victor from going off to find some dark corner in which to brood, cry or whatever he did when out of Mac's sight. "I didn't mean for you to find out this way, but Mr. Insecurity here wouldn't let me tell anyone until I was certain I wasn't going to get tired of him." Said time to be determined by the aforementioned insecure mess. A major flaw in the plan as far as Mac was concerned, but he had been trying to give Victor time to adjust to the concept of someone not leaving him before getting pushy about announcements and generally having fun flaunting things.

She stared at them. Not good, but he didn't have time to soothe her feelings and Victor's. It made for an easy choice, especially since it meant he could leave his lover to deal with Li Ann. He knew that bit of convenience bordered on cowardice, but what the hell. "Catch you later, Li Ann," he said, dragging Victor far enough away to keep their conversation as private as an empty hallway in a public building could allow.

"Mac--" Victor whispered, darting a worried glance at Li Ann.

"Ignore her," Mac answered, pressing close. "I wish I had time to make love to you until I was so sated you knew I couldn't get it up for anyone else, but she..." He paused to glance at the door shielding them from their pit viper of a boss. "...is up to something."

Victor nodded, and a tiny trickle of relief wove itself through Mac's embattled stomach lining. His lover might be an insecure mess, but he wasn't a stupid one.

He used the tip of his nose to brush against Victor's long eyelashes. "Do something for me, baby?"

"What?"

"Stay at my place. I'm going to have to play this by ear, so I don't know what's going to happen, but I want to know you're at least some place where my stuff can watch over you."

Victor's gaze dropped to the floor. "Sleep in your bed while you sleep in hers."

"Sleep in our bed while I do my job," Mac corrected. "And I'm not going to do a damned thing more than that."

His head lifted and he held Mac's gaze. "She's beautiful."

"So are you."

Colour returned to Victor's face in the form of a blush. "Mac..."

He kissed him to stop the denial. How Victor could look in a mirror and be so blind was well beyond Mac's understanding. "Stay at my place, baby, please."

Victor nodded, then glanced toward Li Ann or at least the empty spot she'd occupied the last time they'd looked. "You're leaving her to me, aren't you?"

"Life's a bitch, Vic," Mac told him with an unrepentant grin.

A look of pure disgust answered him. "Kiss me again," he demanded in the sort of tone that told Mac 'fuck you and your little dog, Toto, too' was the alternate choice.

He complied, then stepped back. "My place?"

"Your place."

Mac smiled, caressed Victor's cheek, then turned on his heel and headed for the exit. He didn't look back, but he swore to himself and the gaze boring a hole between his shoulder blades that he'd make this as quick as possible.

Victor let himself into his apartment and gave his sofa a wistful look. A nap would feel very good right now. Whether born of true weariness or depression, sleep tugged at him, but he knew himself well enough to know settling on his couch would make it all the harder to keep his promise to Mac.

Better to have not come home at all, but the last few days had been too busy for domestic chores, so it was come here for some clean clothes or do laundry, and he wasn't in the mood for sorting whites from colours at Mac's. It would all be too much like the naïve housewife working away while her husband slept with someone more exciting.

He sighed, heading for his bedroom. Mac would yell at him for even thinking of such an analogy, but it didn't make it less true. Opening his closet surprised him. Most of the clothes he wore this time of year were gone. Already at Mac's and waiting for the washing machine. Like it or not, in another two days, he'd have to resort to laundry. He quickly discovered anything resembling luggage had also made its way over to Mac's place, so he made do with a pillowcase.

Luck having a certain negative pattern in his life, it did not surprise Victor when he opened the door to leave and found Li Ann hovering in the hallway. Damn. He almost retreated inside to familiar ground for the inevitable conversation, but again he knew that would lead to breaking his promise.

He closed the door behind him, forcing her to step back to keep any distance between them. "I'm going over to Mac's. We can talk there."

She flinched, but nodded. Neither of them spoke on the way down to the parking lot, and Victor could have wept for joy when he found himself alone in the relative safety of his truck. Thank God it didn't make any sense for them to drive over together. Nothing more than a delay, but he'd take what he could get.

Damn, what a day. Not only did he have to deal with a weirded-out ex-fiancée and the loss of his lover to some gorgeous industrial spy turned arms dealer, he'd had to suffer through the most bizarre interrogation of his career--and he'd spent a large part of his career working vice.

Victor would be the first to admit he wasn't on top of his game today, but could he be so far gone he'd lost all his instincts? Every one he had kept screaming Dr. Harry Melnick was telling the truth. Which wouldn't be a problem if the truth hadn't been that some vampire babes had ravished him and stolen the uranium. Somehow, Victor thought such an eventuality came under the heading of unlikely. Which meant he couldn't even trust himself to do his job.

Such cheerful thoughts entertained him through the drive, and it was with a no greater sense of joy that he let himself into Mac's apartment. He never should have agreed to this. Mac would spend the day being reminded why beautiful women were one of his favourite things, then come back here to tell Victor to gather his things and go.

He left the door propped open for Li Ann, then went to the bedroom to dump his pillowcase in the nearest chair. Convinced he wouldn't need the contents until he'd been sent home, he left it stuffed and easily grabbed on the way out.

When he returned to the front room, Li Ann had arrived and was pouring herself a glass of expensive scotch. He preferred beer. There in a nutshell was the reason he didn't belong with either of his partners. They liked the finer things in life and he was the bottom of the barrel.

Too depressed to get the symbolic beer, he opted to drop into a chair and stare at the far wall as he spoke. "It's nothing but a phase of his. He'll come to his senses any minute now and be all yours again."

"I don't--"

"Oh, please, spare me the protests." He sighed. "Look, I might have denied it a million times, but I've known from the instant he walked back into your life that our engagement was nothing beyond a rebound reaction to his 'death.'"

Silence. A confirmation of sorts, he guessed. Almost a relief to have the ugly truth out in the open.

He swallowed, anxiety making his throat dry while at the same time making the thought of putting anything in his stomach out of the question. "You got used to the idea of not having him around, but underneath all of this 'I don't want either of you' nonsense, you always figured he'd be there when you wanted him back."

"You sound very certain of that."

"I was trained to be observant," he answered with a shrug. "I guess the real question is whether or not you really do want him back or just like the ego-boost of having him waiting for you."

A long pause, then she answered, "I'm not certain."

"Figure it out, Li Ann, then take him back or let him go."

"To you?"

Victor shook his head. "I told you--he won't stay with me. Probably be out of the picture by morning." What would he do then? Could he continue to work with Li Ann and Mac? Would The Director even give him a choice one way or the other? He sighed. It didn't matter. Victor would do whatever survival demanded. He'd learned long ago to never expect more than existence out of life. Whenever he managed to forget that lesson a Li Ann or a Mac worked through his defences and the resulting pain brought him back to his senses. Until the next time.

Her hand touched his shoulder. "Vic?"

"Yeah?"

"He didn't tell me he loved me until the moment he knew he was going to die." When he didn't look up at her, she shifted to kneel in front of where he sat. "I heard him tell you he loved you in a public hallway with no threat of death in sight." She gave him a wane smile. "That means something, but I don't think I'm ready to deal with it yet."

It meant Mac had learned the words were said easily enough when it got him what he wanted--a memorable 'final' moment with Li Ann and a promise from Victor. He knew it. Knew hoping otherwise would lead to a pain he doubted he could survive. But somehow, the look on Li Ann's face made him doubt his certainty for the first time. And it scared him. Desperate to give them both a way out, he settled on today's other glorious event "Maybe... we could talk about the case?"

She gave him a pat on the leg, then settled onto the sofa beside him. "What did Melnick tell you?"

Feeling like a fool, he told her about the vampires. As seemed the natural order of their team, the obscure made sense to her and she ran off to check out some local Goth club. Beautiful, brilliant and in the enviable state of having something to do--sometimes he could almost find it within himself to hate Li Ann.

Mac liked Claire. She reminded him a lot of... well, himself. A true kindred soul, and a beautiful one at that--it was no hardship spending the day with her, even if he would have a few bruises from their paintball game. In the past, he would have been quite happy to have let the day wind down to its inevitable conclusion, but he no longer considered such an evening one of the perks of the job.

But he did have a job to do. He knew he'd been right in his first reaction to this assignment--she wasn't the type to confess all because of a romp between the sheets. Briefly he'd entertained the notion of giving her a chaste kiss and forgetting the whole thing. But the entire day had been a seduction and it might make her suspicious if he hesitated on the follow through. With hidden regret, he accepted her after-dinner invitation back to her place. The sex like the company was good. The snuggling afterwards wasn't... unpleasant, but he was more than happy when enough time passed for him to make an excuse about an early morning meeting and leave.

He drove straight home. Mac knew Victor would have kept his promise, but it still gave him a warm rush when he opened his door and found his lover asleep on the sofa. A lovely sight to come home to, but he made for the bathroom not Victor.

The scent of sex and Claire's perfume clung to him. He needed to rid himself of both before he woke sleeping beauty. The hamper took care of his clothes while a quick shower dealt with the rest.

When he emerged from the bathroom, he found a sleepy-eyed Victor sitting on the corner of the bed nearest the chair. Mac didn't recognize the over-stuffed pillowcase his pretty man seemed so fascinated with. He almost made a crack about Victor's idea of designer luggage, but he could see the tension radiating from him.

"Mac?" he whispered, looking at him with those 'wounded puppy' eyes.

Obviously, he expected Mac to tell him to leave. Damn, what did it take to get through his thick skull? What had left Victor so damaged he couldn't believe it when told he was loved? Mac had taken on quite a challenge when he'd seduced this one. Too much of one? For a moment he understood how Li Ann and the ones who had come before her had felt. It might never get better. He might spend the rest of his and Victor's lives constantly reassuring the man, never really being believed. But the difference between him and the others reared its head--daunting task or not, Mac knew Victor was worth it.

He sat down beside him and put his arm around Victor's shoulders.

"Mac?"

"I did my job," he answered, drawing him close when Victor tired to draw away. His voice dropped to the faintest whisper he could manage and be heard. "Nothing more than that."

"You enjoyed it."

Easy enough assumption given the need for a man's active participation in the deed. "Yeah. Just like I have countless times before. But I make love with you, and there's no comparison." He kissed Victor's forehead, let go of him and crawled up the bed, then under the covers. "Come to bed," he murmured, holding his hand out to Victor.

Those sad, lovely eyes stared at him for a long moment, then Victor stood up. For a moment Mac thought he was going to run and his mind raced to think of some way to stop him without ruining everything. But Victor did not run. Instead he stripped, then joined Mac in the bed.

A heavy sigh of relief shuddered through Mac as he settled Victor in his arms. Figuring his lover might want to sulk about the evening's events for a few hours at least, it surprised Mac, when Victor began to rub against him. "Vic?"

"I need it, Mac," came the answer as strong arms encircled Mac's torso. "Please."

Mac was tired and his round with Claire had left him satisfied enough to not need anything else for the evening, but he could guess what Victor wasn't saying. He didn't want Mac to fall asleep with someone else being the last one to give him pleasure. He needed some assurance Mac would dream of him, not her.

Putting out when he didn't want to. Mac supposed it was one of the things that made the difference between a sex partner and a lover. He smiled. "As if I could deny you anything," he teased gently, then rolled to put Victor beneath him.

The gentle rhythm of their thrusts matched the sensual care of each caress and kiss. They came within moments of one another, and Mac had the pleasure of watching Victor fall asleep in his arms before sleep claimed him as well.

Victor woke in the middle of the night and sighed. He'd known he shouldn't have taken that nap while Li Ann did the preliminary investigation on the Dark World club, but he hadn't had anything else to do until she came back certain it was what Melnick had been talking about.

He'd done some checking of his own after she woke him. Dug up the paperwork on the owner, harassed him, got his rap sheet, and planned to harass him again tomorrow. All in a day's work, but not very fruitful. In the end he'd had far too much time to dwell on Mac's assignment. He knew depression, not exhaustion had sent him to the couch shortly before sundown, knew he'd slept merely to have an excuse not to think. A successful diversion, but he now found himself wide awake at 1 a.m.

Mac shifted, drawing Victor closer and snuggling him like a child with a favoured stuffed toy. A marvellous sensation, but the notion of 'stuffed' gave him an idea. No, Mac needed his sleep. Selfish to even think of waking him. Nobility got him through another half hour, but he found himself fighting not to squirm. He loved cuddling, but his senses were under attack. Mac's scent filled his lungs, body heat enflamed his skin, the gentle rise and fall of a chest rubbed against him.

No, Mac needed his sleep. The argument which had sounded so good thirty short minutes ago was less convincing this time. In their time as lovers, Victor had lost count of the times Mac had decided to wake him in the middle of the night for some fun. Insecure, but not stupid, Victor didn't need a psychiatrist to know his hesitation to do the same thing had more to do with the fear Mac would be angry with him than consideration.

If Mac were telling the truth, he wouldn't mind a sexy lover demanding his due in the middle of the night. If not... well, the pillowcase had remained packed and the suspense would be over. 'All right, Ace,' he thought, gently extracting himself from Mac's embrace. 'Let's see what happens.'

He pulled the lube out of the nightstand drawer, then got himself ready. He'd never indulged in such an intimate touch before and he had to bite his lip to keep from gasping as his fingers penetrated flesh full of stimulation-hungry nerve endings. Despite the pleasure, he stopped easily enough. He'd had more than enough self-pleasure in his life. Now he wanted outside attention.

Another moment of lip biting while he considered his next move, then he smiled. He squirmed down under the covers manoeuvring himself into a comfortable position, then gave Mac's limp cock a kiss. Another kiss, a nibble or two and the organ began to stir. Grinning in triumph, he took it into his mouth and began licking and sucking with enthusiasm.

The cock grew harder, Mac's long legs shifted, then the covers flew back and a loud moan of pleasure rewarded his efforts. Victor let the erection fall out of his mouth, gave it one last kiss, then stretched out on top of Mac.

"You stopped," a sulky, sleepy voice growled in accusation.

"Mmm hmm." His next kiss claimed the mouth moving into a pout. Sulking or not, Mac kissed back with growing enthusiasm, then groaned loudly when Victor once again stopped what he'd been doing.

"Vic!"

Smirking at Mac, he pulled himself up, letting his legs fall to either side of Mac's hips. "I want you," he announced, pushing his ass back against the cock behind him. "Like this."

He could see Mac's answering grin in the glow from the city lights. Strong hands cupped his ass cheeks. "Then saddle up, baby, and let's go for a ride."

"Ah, romance," Victor grumbled, shoving backwards to take the thick, long cock into his body. Oh, damn, that felt good. The control gave him a rush of its own as he pulled forward than rammed back hard enough to make himself gasp. He liked it so well he did it again and again. Mac's hips lifted up to meet each downward thrust, but Victor set the speed and depth.

His back arched, and Mac's hands moved up his chest, long fingers toying with Victor's nipples, mirroring the tone of Victor's fucking. Hard thrust, hard pinch. Slow and deep, gentle roll. Victor moaned loudly, tossing his head back and forth as if to deny that anything so good could be survived.

He could feel his muscles tightening in climax and clenched his ass muscles With a scream of pleasure Mac came. Victor followed him, then collapsed forward into his lover's embrace.

For several minutes they lay panting in each other's arms, then Victor felt a trickle of fluid escaping from his body. His eyes widened. He'd forgotten the condom. Tonight of all nights, how could he have been so stupid?

Mac's hand shifted down to Victor's ass and ran a finger through the wetness. "I didn't forget with Claire," he said. "But... um, I'd sort of like to 'forget' from now on with you."

"Me, too, Ace," he answered, shifting so he could curl up beside Mac. "Just as soon as we both take another test."

"Deal." Mac kissed him, told him he was incredible, then the rotten bastard bounced out of bed.

"Where are you going?" Victor wailed.

"We are going to work."

"Work?"

"Claire's office is empty, and I got a look at the security set up. Which is, by the way, pathetic." He began to dress in one of his standard basic black getups. "It's better at her apartment, so I'm guessing that's where the grenade is, but we might as well eliminate the office while we can."

Victor sat in the bed glaring while Mac moved around the room gathering his toys with an obscene amount of energy. Hadn't the lousy so and so ever heard sex was supposed to make men drowsy? Trust Mac to be different even in that. With a resigned sigh, he got out of bed himself and dressed.

This begrudging co-operation earned him a tonsillectomy masquerading as a kiss. "Hurry up, pretty man. Claire strikes me as an early riser."

Victor growled, which Mac seemed to take as some sort of agreement. He gave Victor a beaming smile and another quick kiss, then zipped out of the bedroom.

Muttering under his breath about the disadvantages of younger lovers, Victor found his shoes. "I heard that," Mac called from the living room. "And you're not that much older."

"Tell that to my muscles."

Mac poked his head back into the room. "Come on, Vic, everyone knows you just have to get used to the saddle."

Victor threw the pillowcase at him, but a cackling Mac had already fled.

Shaking his head, he finished dressing, then walked into the living room to find Mac going through a cabinet filled with keys. "Do you have a skeleton key for her place?"

Mac shook his head. "No, but sometimes appearance is everything." A small cry of triumph and he pocketed a gold key with an octagon head. "Ready to go?"

Victor nodded, then frowned. "Why are you so happy?"

Another beaming smile. "Because, my pretty love, you are."

Victor blinked, then considered the statement. Yes, he guessed he was. "Oh," he said and followed Mac out the door.

Mac let Victor drive. Partly because it was wiser to take a vehicle none of the targets had seen and Mac wouldn't be caught dead driving Victor's truck, but mostly because it let him sit back and watch his lover.

He couldn't believe it. Victor had actually fucked him. Well, not in the traditional Tab A in Slot B sense, but his lover had decided he'd wanted something and gone after it. Mac considered it a triumph on the security scale of events. Victor had even inadvertently given them the chance to discuss the safe sex thing and officially enter the 'we are in a long-term relationship' phase.

Of course, backsliding was to be expected and no relationship, let alone one involving two people in their profession, was without pitfalls, but all in all, Mac felt like throwing a party. Now if their damned boss would cut them some slack, they might have a chance. What was she up to anyway? Breaking them up was the obvious answer, but it seemed an odd thing to do. Did she really think they could work together after the smoke cleared? Maybe Victor could handle it, but as far as Mac was concerned civilized break-ups required more maturity than he ever wanted to possess. Victor left him and he was going to give new meaning to the words 'petty' and 'vindictive.' Which he supposed pretty much put his relationship with Li Ann into perspective.

They'd stayed friends with nothing more than a few hurt-filled moments. He really had believed he'd loved her, but Victor had taught him a whole new definition of the word. No, he loved Li Ann, but not the way he loved Victor. He had endured losing Li Ann with relative ease. If he lost Victor, he'd drown in a sea of bitterness. Oh, he wouldn't be one of those nutcases who went on a killing rampage, but he'd be damned if he'd continue to work with his ex-lover. Nope. No way.

"Mac, what are you thinking?"

"Just contemplating the future," he purred, stroking Victor's nearest thigh.

Victor gasped and the truck jerked to the right, then back into place. "Damnit, Mac, do you want me wreck the truck?"

"And yet another benefit to groping you rears its head."

A sigh of exasperation answered him, but the thigh stayed put. Mac grinned into the night.

The office proved the lack of challenge Mac had predicted it would be. From what he had told him about the woman, Victor guessed she really didn't trust her associates enough to keep anything of value there. It was simply a place to have meetings and keep undesirables away from her home.

By sunrise they were in a dark corner of a parking lot across from the entrance to the garage of her apartment building. They passed the time in each other's arms, snuggling and kissing while trying to get comfortable in a passenger seat meant for no more than one adult male. "We shouldn't be doing this," Victor murmured as Mac nipped up and down his neck. Dimly he recalled it was his turn to watch for Claire's BMW, but Mac's attentions were making it very difficult to think.

Mac made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat and continued to make breakfast out of every inch of Victor's exposed skin.

Victor had managed to remain strict on that point. Absolutely no messing around with buttons, belts, zippers or any other span of cloth designed to keep covered what was supposed to be kept covered in polite society. Mac had called him a killjoy then he'd focused on causing as much mayhem as possible within Victor's 'unreasonable' guidelines.

The suction on his Adam's apple almost caused Victor to come in his pants. Fortunately for his sense of modesty, the sky blue car he'd been watching for chose that moment to emerge from the garage. "There she is."

Mac cursed, but abandoned his feast. "I knew I hated this job," he grumbled, letting Victor get out of the truck.

Once out of Mac's inspiring embrace, Victor filled his lungs with the chilled morning air. To his relief his erection did what an erection faced with a Canadian Fall morning and no long coat to cover it should do--it wilted.

"That is a crime against art and beauty everywhere," Mac hissed in his ear and goosed his backside.

He yelped, then hurried after Mac, who was stalking towards the building. Briefly Victor considered revenge, but it was time to go to work. Darkly he promised himself there would be another time, then asked, "So what's the plan?"

"There's a security guard in the lobby, but I made a point of being friendly to him when I left last night. Shouldn't be too difficult to bluff our way past him."

"And if he doesn't co-operate?"

"Well, I've been told I'm fairly good at Kung fu."

Victor groaned and mentally crossed his fingers in aid of the bluff. To his relief and surprise--luck never being one of their strong suits--a fifty, the flash of the key 'Claire had given him' and a bullshit story about having left his briefcase behind last night saw them safely into the elevators.

Mac picked three locks to get them inside the apartment. He tapped a code into the keypad next to the door, and Victor's eyes widened in alarm when the red light continued to flash.

"Don't panic," Mac told him, tapping in a second code. The light went green.

"How--?"

"She's smart enough to know a guest might see her code and have a different one for morning and evening, but most people don't trust their memories. I just guessed the morning sequence would be the reverse of the evening."

Victor stared at him. "And if you'd been wrong?"

"I still would have had fifteen seconds to rewire the thing." He said it in the tone of voice which implied this was something he could do blindfolded and with both hands tied behind his back.

Having seen the fallout of Mac's tendency to overestimate himself, Victor scowled at him.

Mac laughed, then kissed him lightly. "Have a little faith. I really am very, very good at this."

Victor took another moment to glare, then began looking for the nuclear grenade. Cabinets, chests of drawers, under the bed, he checked every likely hiding place for something that really wasn't very small. Nothing.

When he returned to the front room, he found Mac half hidden behind a watercolour of some village. "Safe big enough?"

"Umm hmm," came the distracted answer. Victor had never been very impressed by this part. Mac attached some fancy gadget to the opening mechanism and after a few beeps and clicks a readout panel told him what the combination was. Mac and Li Ann had frequently insisted it was the knowing which thingamajig to use that made them such good thieves. He remained unconvinced.

In any case, the safe opened followed by Mac's "Ah ha!"

Victor pulled out the Geiger counter Melnick had given him and pointed the sensor at the device nestled inside the safe then frowned. "No, 'ah ha'," he said. "No uranium."

Mac pouted, then smiled. "No problemo." With a smug expression, he picked up the phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling Claire. What else?"

"Huh?"

"Victor, Victor, we've just broken into her home. It's only fair that we let her know."

"Have you lost what passes as your mind?" he demanded, snatching the phone out of his hand.

Mac gave him a long look. "You know, you're right. This is something we really should tell her in person." He headed for the door, towing a sputtering Victor in his wake.

Mac was beyond smug. Even he hadn't expected things to work out as well as they had. Not only did they have the uranium back where it belonged, but he and Victor had actually managed to bring in the bad guys without Li Ann having to arrive at the last minute to save their asses.

"And Ms. Holland got away." The Director did not share his high spirits.

"Sadly, yes," Mac answered. Which was pure bullshit. Claire was too much like him for Mac to ever seriously entertain delivering her into The Director's clutches. With his luck, she'd end up part of the team and Victor wouldn't like that. He'd simply offered Claire a head start in exchange for the name of the person with the uranium. Turned out to be one of Lord Charles' Goth girls. He'd told Claire not to look at it as losing, but as a compromise. She did know how to make the nuclear hand grenade and that had some value even without the radioactive junk that made it go boom. She'd still make a fortune-- in another country. Maybe not as impressive a fortune, but was the difference between millions so great as to not get the hell out of the country when she had a chance?

Li Ann scowled at him. While he might have known Claire, Li Ann knew him, and he could tell she suspected the truth. "I would have found out what was going on in a day or two myself."

In other words, 'you didn't have to let her go.' But he'd wanted to.

The Director didn't seem fooled any more than Li Ann did, but neither had proof, and if he hadn't been forced to romance Claire, he might not have been so inclined to let her go. After using her, it seemed the least he could do.

To his relief and surprise, Victor had agreed and, while quiet this morning, the lingering depression had not returned.

Beyond content, Victor at his side, he sat back and waited until both women finished trying to get him to admit something he wasn't about to. He gave them a sunny smile, then said, "Thank you, thank you. You're gratitude over a job well done makes my life worth while. There is but one other thing I might ask for as a reward." His gaze hardened as he turned his full attention on The Director. "I want some answers. What the hell are you trying to pull?"

Li Ann choked, muttered something about needing to be somewhere else and fled.

Wrapping her usual icy hardness around herself like a cloak, The Director looked at Mac as if he were a bug she hadn't decided whether or not it was worth her effort to squash. "What makes you think I owe you anything?"

"Oh, I don't think there's a chance in hell we'll get anything close to what you owe us. I'm just willing to settle for the answers." He leaned forward. "You sicked Gloria on Vic, then ordered me into someone else's bed. Why?"

She arched her eyebrow at him and for a moment he thought she might deny it all, then she shrugged. "Call it a reality check. Grand passions can be... amusing fantasies, but you still work for me, and I will use you when and how I see fit. Now, go away."

He opened his mouth to protest, but Victor stood and gave his arm a small tug. "Let's go, Mac. She'll tell us when she's ready. Not before then."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He felt her eyes boring into his back all the way to the door, but he ignored her. Instead he kept his eyes focused forward. On Victor.

The Director walked into the private office she maintained above her meeting room. There were a hundred things to do, but she tur ed on her VCR instead. Victor's image filled the screen. His face flushed with passion, his head thrown backward, body taunt with ecstasy, Mac spurting within him. Beautiful.

She stared at the frozen frame for a long time, then glanced toward her files. In those cabinets the folder marked 'Mansfield, Victor' held report after report insisting he would self-destruct before he reached his fortieth birthday. Some of her experts predicted a mental breakdown; others that he would 'forget' to move out of harm's way. None predicted survival.

A waste. And she hated waste. "That which does not destroy us makes us stronger," she whispered. A favoured piece of wisdom, but sometimes she'd found it was best to give random chance a helping hand in what had to be confronted when. Jealousy when love was new and wonderful instead of when age and familiarity made it easier to stay asleep than wake up a lover for needed renewal was a start. Devastating timing for some, but perfect for her two problem children. Yes, the right timing. As dictated by the files that foretold doom. Not the most reassuring success she'd ever had.

Use the files to prevent their predictions. A dangerous gamble. She sighed. "Don't make a fool of me, boys," she told the frozen lovers. "I'm betting on you, and I loathe losing."

Mac headed for the stereo as soon as they got home. He reached for one of his favourites, stopped, then picked up a James Brown CD instead. He turned the volume down to less than ear-shattering levels. It would be a long time, if ever, before he learned to like Victor's idea of music enough to enjoy cranking up the sound, but it wasn't half bad.

"Thank you," Victor said, moving into his arms.

He sighed happily. If James Brown got him this, he'd play the damned CD every minute of every day. "I want you to move in with me." His own eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't thought about it, but the words had come tumbling out. He liked the sound of them and hugged Victor close.

"I want to, but... Are we really ready for this?"

Mac shrugged. "All I know is I want you here. With me. Always."

Victor looked up into his eyes, searching for something, then he smiled. "All right. Most of my stuff's here anyway." He looked at the stereo playing the music he loved. "Maybe we could celebrate by ordering some of that awful authentic Hong Kong food you like so much."

Mac laughed. "That's it, baby. Work with me."

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