This story is slash, containing characters who (sadly) do not belong to me and both happen to be men who want to have sex with each other. I'm not writing this for any gain other than my own personal amusement. This story is rated NC-17.

What follows is the ninth installment in the "One Ray, Two Ray, Old Ray, New Ray" Due South series (with all due deference to Dr. Suess) which will have something in it to please or offend everyone, including Fraser/Kowalski pairings, Fraser/Vecchio, and even Vecchio/Kowalski. You have been warned.

It is also a part of the "You Were Always on my Mind" series, involving the characters from "The Fugitive" and "US Marshals" movies.

Permission given to archive this story on the Witness List webpage.

This story is a crossover piece set in Las Vegas. In the Due South world, it takes place while Det. Ray Vecchio (the Real Ray Vecchio) is currently undercover. In the US Marshals world, it takes place several months after the Dr. Richard Kimbal chase.

any comments, suggestions, or complaints can be sent to me at magik@socketis.net

"Tell Me About It"

Barbara J. Webb

Armando 'the Bookman' Langoustini strolled casually across the casino floor, waving aimlessly at those who called out to him. He seemed entirely oblivious to the five sets of eyes carefully watching, but not watching, his progress. Five people carefully looked away as he stopped and whispered something into the ear of the blackjack dealer at table 9, then followed his movements again under cover of other activities as he headed for the elevators.

The set of eyes closest to the elevators - belonging to US Deputy Marshal Cosmo Renfro - flickered back into the room towards the set of eyes belonging to his team leader, Deputy Sam Gerard. Gerard gave a curt nod, and Renfro detached himself from the craps table to go stand casually behind the Bookman as he waited for an elevator.

The doors opened, and the stepped on together. "What floor?" Cosmo asked casually.

"Eleven."

"Wow. Me too." Langoustini barely gave him a second glance as Cosmo pressed the button marked '11.' He leaned back against the mirrored wall of the elevator, seeming preoccupied with his own thoughts. "You know, I sure love Vegas."

Langoustini made a non-committal noise, gave Cosmo a tight, 'I'm just trying to be polite, so stop talking to me,' smile. Cosmo kept talking. "You make any money down there? I haven't yet, but I keep hoping."

"Great." The doors slid open, and Langoustini slid out, walking quickly. Cosmo let himself fall behind, searching through his jacket, as though for a key. The Bookman opened the door to room 1129 and went inside.

Giving the hallway a quick glance to make certain it was empty, Cosmo pulled out his radio. "Sammy, I'm up on 11. Our guy just went into 1129."

Cooper was the first to answer. "That's the same room the bellhop gave us."

The radio crackled back with Gerard's voice. "Stay there. We'll be right up."

A little ways down the hall was a map of the hotel, and Cosmo stationed himself in front of it, keeping an eye on the door to 1129 in the reflection on the glass. He heard the bell of the elevator arriving, and the sound of the doors opening. Gerard and Newman stepped into the hall from the elevator alcove; further down the hallway, on the other side of Langoustini's door, Cooper and Biggs stepped from a similar alcove.

All five Marshals converged on the door, making badges visible and pulling their guns in perfect synchronicity. Cooper stuck the master key-card the hotel had given them into the slot on the door, then stepped back. The light turned green and Gerard slammed the door open, moved into the room weapon first.

Cosmo and Biggs fanned into the bathroom as Newman checked the closet; Gerard and Cooper moved into the main part of the room. It had all happened in a split second, and Cooper had Langoustini at gunpoint while he was in the process of reaching for his own. "Drop it," Cooper ordered.

Cosmo came out from the bathroom. "All clear." Langoustini eased his gun from the inside holster, dropped it on the floor. Brushing himself off, Gerard stood back up from checking under the bed. As the man followed Cooper's next command to kick it away, Gerard bent and retrieved it.

"Where are your friends, sir?"

"Friends?" The wise guy shrugged. "I don't got any friends."

Gerard glanced over to Cosmo, who shrugged. "Nobody else in here."

"Shit." Gerard motioned with his gun at Langoustini. "Sit down." The Bookman sat, looking as casual as a man sitting down to a meal with old friends. Cosmo couldn't help but notice an inherent sexiness about the man, along with the fact that every move the man made was graceful. "Mr. Langoustini, my name is Deputy Marshal Sam Gerard."

"Well, Mr. Gerard, now that we're acquainted, maybe you can tell me what has brought me the honor of your company." Cosmo flinched inwardly. The man was walking a fine line - Sam hated bad guys who didn't cower, and this man didn't seem afraid in the slightest bit. If anything, he looked slightly amused.

"Now look," Sam was up in the guys face; his voice had taken that low deadly tone Cosmo knew was Sam getting really pissed. But then, Gerard was never happy when the bad guys weren't where they were supposed to be. "We're going to take you in on charges of harboring federal fugitives. This can go easy, and you can tell us where those fugitives are right now, or we can make this...difficult."

"He means painful," Biggs offered helpfully.

Cooper leered. "Really painful."

"You don't want to make him upset," Newman offered with sympathy in his voice.

Langoustini was unimpressed. "It's a really nice show, boys and girls, but I'd hate to see you brought up on charges of police harassment. I'll say this one more time; I don't know who you're looking for, but I certainly don't associate with criminals, so why don't you just run along."

Cooper stepped forward, smoothly pulling a picture from her coat. Langoustini took it from her, studying the image of himself walking into the lobby of the hotel, apparently chatting with the two men who were their quarry. He shrugged. "I'm sorry, I still don't know these guys." He handed the picture back to Cooper.

She took it, looking completely non-plussed by his charming smile. "We have a witness placing you in this room with our fugitives, and the receipt for the last meal had your signature on it."

"So arrest me. You can't prove anything." Langoustini yawned, looking utterly bored. "What's it going to be, gentlemen? This is getting tedious."

That did it. Gerard grabbed him by the collar, propelling him around and against the wall. The Bookman had cuffs on his wrists a moment later, and Sam pushed him towards Cosmo. "Biggs, Renfro, take him up to our staging room. Cooper, get Poole and Henry up here to watch this room and grab anyone who comes into it. Let's go see if our boys are wandering around the hotel somewhere."

Cosmo took Langoustini by one arm, as Biggs took the other. From this close, Cosmo could smell the man's Jovan Musk cologne, and firmly reminded himself that the man was a criminal - albeit an attractive one - and not a prospect for a date. Still, there was no crime in enjoying the way the man smelled, right?

They had staked out a room on the floor above; Langoustini came with them quietly, but Cosmo could almost feel a seething anger building up within the man. Italians and their tempers. When they got up to their room, their radios came to life again. "You settled in up there?"

"Sure, Sammy." Cosmo sat Langoustini in a chair, using his own set of handcuffs to link the pair binding his wrists to the metal post that bolted the table to the wall. "What'cha need?"

"Cosmo, you stay up there with our friend. Biggs, come meet me in the lobby."

"Oh sure, I get to stay in the room. That sounds like fun." But he didn't say it to the radio.

Biggs simply shrugged at him on his way to the door. "Better you than me."

"Thanks a bunch, Bobby. You're a true friend." And then the door clicked shut, leaving him alone with the glaring mobster. "Isn't that just always the way? Oh, Noah get's to go hunting for bad guys. Not me, I gotta just sit here and stare at you."

"It's no picnic for me either."

"Was anybody talking to you?'

Langoustini leaned forward, looking like he was about to stand, then remembered his handcuffs. "I can't believe you guys are holding me here! I want my lawyer. You can't just hold me without arresting me. I know my rights."

"Sure, buddy. Look, you're talking to the wrong guy. If Gerard says hold you here, I gotta hold you here - or he shoots me."

"Oh yeah, we've got the cream of law enforcement here."

Cosmo ignored the taunt, going to the window and pulling aside the shades to look out; he didn't turn completely, still keeping one eye on his prisoner. Langoustini was pulling against his bonds, metal clinking against metal. "If you don't sit still, I'm gonna staple your ass to that chair."

"Yeah, you just try something."

Even in restraints, the man was still pompous as hell. It was really too bad his was a criminal; Cosmo had always had a thing for arrogant assholes. "You know, it doesn't seem fair. Here I am in Las Vegas, and do I get to have any fun? Oh no. If you'd just tell us where the Gigantelli brothers are, I might get to take a couple days off and play in the Casino. But, oh no, you gotta protect them, and I get to stand in this damn room."

"So sorry to inconvenience you." The man's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Cosmo went back over to the bed and flipped on the TV. Of course, there was nothing deeply exciting on, but TBS was running a Perry Mason marathon. It was better than nothing, and Cosmo always had a bit of fun pointing out the inaccuracies of the legal system in the Perry Mason world. Still, he would have preferred NYPD Blue, or even a Law and Order rerun to assuage the boredom.

"Oh God, do we actually have to watch that?"

"Shut up. People in cuffs don't get a say." And that settled it. If the Bookman looked that pained by the prospect of Perry, then Cosmo was ready to sit through the entire damned marathon.

Four episodes later, the phone rang. Cosmo muted the TV, and reached back to grab the receiver. "Yeah."

Noah's mild voice spoke over the line, but Cosmo could hear the sound of Sam yelling in the background. "Cosmo, we've got a problem. The FBI says we can't arrest Langoustini."

"What?" Cosmo sat up, glaring at the Bookman. "Why the hell not?"

"Apparently he's an agent of theirs. In fact, they say we have to release him and lay off this entire investigation, because it could compromise his cover." There was a bit of a scuffling sound, and Sam's voice came on the line.

"Cosmo, you are not to release that man. The FBI can-" there was an unfamiliar voice in the background, and the hand-muffled sound of Sam's answer. Cosmo could only make out enough of the words to know Sam wasn't being polite.

Noah came back on the phone. "Me again."

"Sounds like a zoo down there."

"Sam's a bit upset." Calm, unruffleable Noah. "You can go ahead and un-cuff him, but we are keeping him in custody until we can straighten out our disagreement with the FBI."

"What's the problem?"

A pause, the distant sounds of loud arguing. "Apparently the FBI are afraid that if we arrest these guys, after having Langoustini in custody, that might bring suspicion down on him, and they don't want that. So Sam's trying to...negotiate."

"Okay. We'll just wait here to see how it all come out. Good luck down there; don't let him kill anyone."

"Will do."

Cosmo cradled the receiver, then turned to face Langoustini. "Well, Mr. Langoustini - or whatever your name is - it looks like your lucky day. FBI says you're one of theirs."

"Well, it's about damn time. You gonna let me out of these?" He jingled his hands.

"Yeah, but the good news is, you get to hang out up here with me a bit longer." He went for the keys - his and the spare set Sam kept in his shaving kit.

"Oh, that is good news. Mind telling me why?"

It took Cosmo a moment of rummaging to find the small key. "Mainly because we're still trying to catch the bad guys, and if Sam can knock enough heads together, the FBI'll let us go after them." Triumphantly, he returned to the room with the key and unlocked the undercover agent.

"I still can't tell you where they're hiding, you know. That would blow my cover right out of the water."

"You can if they tell you to. Guess it all depends on who's case is the most important."

The first thing Langoustini did once his hands were free was make a grab for the remote, taking Perry off the air. "I will sit up here and patiently wait while the feds argue this out, but I will not watch any more of that damned show, you got me?"

"Sure." Cosmo tossed the empty cuffs onto the second bed. "The feds - aren't you an agent?"

"Nope. Cop. They pulled me off the Chicago streets for my experience in dealing with the mob, as well as my stunning resemblance to the real Armando Langoustini." Now that he wasn't a real criminal anymore, Cosmo was reminded of how sexy he'd thought the man was. Something about that smile.

Arrogant men. "So, you got a real name then?"

"Ray Vecchio - detective Ray Vecchio."

Cosmo held out his hand. "Cosmo Renfro, United States Deputy Marshal."

"Yeah, I figured that much." Ray shook his hand. "Now, can I have my gun back?"

"I think Sam still has it."

"Can I have your gun?"

"You in a hurry to shoot somebody?"

"No, I just feel more comfortable with a gun." Vecchio pulled the chair around and sat in it backwards. "So what now?"

Cosmo sat back on the bed. "I dunno. Guess we wait."

Vecchio didn't seem to like that idea at all. "I really can't believe this. My entire evening goes to waste because you idiots can't catch your cons without me. Jesus, is there any federal agency capable of getting along without my help?"

"You know, if you wouldn't harbor fugitives, we'd be more than happy to leave you alone."

"I somehow doubt that. No one ever leaves me alone." Cosmo certainly didn't want to. He lay back on the bed, trying to block Vecchio's image from his head. Just because it had been ages since he'd gotten laid, and he was locked alone with this imperious undercover cop who just seemed to radiate sex was no reason to lose his professional detachment.

"I know the feeling."

Vecchio rose to his feet, began pacing back and forth with all the trapped energy of a caged tiger. "I hate this. I really hate this."

"You're not going to make it go away by bitching about it. Believe me, if that were a viable way of changing the world, I would have taken it up years ago." Cosmo draped his arm over his eyes. "You are trapped within the grip of the original inescapable force - Sam Gerard."

"Can we at least order room service or something?"

"Sure. Whadda you want?"

Vecchio came over and sat down on the bed right next to Cosmo, picking up the room service menu that was on the table between the two beds. Again, Cosmo was able to smell his cologne, but this time there was also the feel of the hem of his jacket brushing against Cosmo's side, his back against Cosmo's arm, his body heat coming through Cosmo's clothes. Dammit: Cosmo just needed to get laid.

"Is this on the US Marshals?"

"Sure." Sam's punishment for making Cosmo sit in the room. "Order anything; we'll pick up the tab."

A hand was laid on his chest; Cosmo pulled his arm down to look up at his prisoner. "Did you want anything?"

Oh yeah, Cosmo wanted something. "Do they have a vegetarian plate or something?"

"Yup." Ray pulled his hand back, brushing it halfway across Cosmo's chest in the process. That had felt like a come-on. "You wanna order? I'll have a hard time explaining why I'm ordering food sent up to your room."

"Right." Cosmo started to sit up, but Ray simply handed him over the phone.

"I want the prime rib with fries and a Pepsi."

Sam was going to kill him. But Cosmo ordered the food, giving instruction to have it charged to their room. Vecchio went back to pacing, occasionally peeking out the window and down to the street. "You know, if you think the FBI's going to back down and let you endanger their project, you're wrong. They've put way too much time into making my position secure."

"And if you think the Great Sam Gerard is going to back down and let his quarry escape, you're in for a great disappointment. The entire FBI could stand in his way and it wouldn't stop him - he always gets his man."

"Wow. I knew a guy back home who was like that."

"I doubt it. I don't think there are enough people in the world who can live and work with Sammy without shooting him to support another one somewhere else."

Vecchio sighed. It occurred to Cosmo to wonder if they guy might be homesick. "Okay, that doesn't sound like Benny. You will never meet a nicer guy anywhere. Polite, too. Canadian."

"Ah."

"He's a Mountie, actually."

"Yeah, don't they always get their man?"

That brought a laugh out of Vecchio. "Actually, I've been told that's something of a misconception. Their motto is actually 'maintain the right' - only in French, I think. Or some other damn language. Although it doesn't really matter, cause Benny, he always got his man."

There was a warmth in Vecchio's voice that hadn't been there before, a resigned sadness in his smile. It was a look Cosmo knew - one he'd seen in the mirror far too many times. "So, what was this Mountie guy doing in Chicago?"

"Actually, he came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of his father, and for reasons that don't really need going into at this juncture, he stayed attached as liaison officer for the Canadian Consulate - which basically meant he followed me around a lot."

"I see." Cosmo rolled over so he was on his stomach, propped up on his elbows facing Vecchio. "So you two worked together a lot?"

"Sometimes, it seemed like I spent every waking minute of my time with him. You know, I never believed in perfect people before I met Benny."

That made Cosmo smile. "Well, now you've met two. Sam's perfect; just ask him."

"Is he? Funny, I didn't pick that up about him."

"Well, you two can argue it out between yourselves. I'm not going to get involved." Cosmo let his head drop onto the bed. "But I'll let you know now; you can't win an argument with him. Sam Gerard is always right."

"Sounds like a swell guy."

A knock on the door spared Cosmo from trying to find an answer to that. "Stay outta sight." Gun out, he went to look through the peep hole. Outside the door was a hotel employee with a room service cart. Keeping his gun up, but hidden behind the door, Cosmo paid the guy and brought the food back into their room.

"So, you miss Chicago?" Cosmo snagged his food, then went back to the bed.

"Sometimes, yeah. This is fun and all, but after a while, you just start to miss little things - people calling you by your name, not having to think about every word that comes out of your mouth, working with people who aren't going to shoot you if you show a little weakness - you know, little things like that." Vecchio slathered ketchup all over his fries. "I miss my friends, my family...Benny."

Cosmo took a piece of broccoli, dipped it in the ranch dressing that had come with the vegetables. "You ever wonder what he's doing back there without you?"

Ray tore into his meat with a ferocity that wasn't quite echoed in his still-suave expression. "Don't have to. I mean, just cause I'm out here doesn't mean I have to give up all my contacts."

"So?" Cosmo prodded when Vecchio didn't continue. His personal life was a shambles these days, so getting to hear someone else's problems was always a nice change.

"So what?"

"So what's happening?"

Vecchio stabbed at his prime rib. "Well, there's this kid-"

"Yeah, there's always some kid."

"Can I talk?" Cosmo grinned, but kept quiet. "This guy they've got standing in for me - the fake Ray Vecchio. So they're sleeping together - damn kid is touching my Mountie."

"Been there." Cosmo crunched a carrot. "Well, okay, I never had a Mountie, but I've got my own kid to deal with."

Vecchio stared at him a moment; Cosmo could see thoughts zipping behind his eyes. "Hmm, without playing twenty questions - that Noah guy?"

"Wow, you were a detective, weren't you." They looked at each other, seeing understanding and sympathy in each other's eyes. It occurred to Cosmo that maybe this night wouldn't be a total loss after all. "So," and his voice was somewhat softer than it had been before, "How's the steak?"

"It's good." They both took a few more bites in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, and then Cosmo exploded.

"And what I don't get is - I don't even know what Sammy sees in him. Sure, he's a good kid, and a good Marshal, but I don't really see what's so special about him. Except maybe blind obedience. You should hear him - 'yes, sir,' 'of course, sir,' 'my pleasure, sir,' - and this was even before they were screwing."

Vecchio pointed his fork at Cosmo, his mouth full of steak. "Tell me about it. I don't know what Benny sees in Kowalski. I knew the kid - you know, in the biblical sense - and there's not a damn thing special about him. He's just a flatfoot with experimental hair. Not very bright - hyperactive as hell - and not even really that good in bed. And let's talk about clothes-"

"Don't get me started on clothes. Well, you saw what he was wearing. Always those damn t-shirts, with a sports jacket, no less. As if that actually makes it more stylish or something."

"God, t-shirts. You know, I always wondered with Kowalski - he had this grey t-shirt that he was wearing, oh, all the time, and I always wondered if it was just the same one over and over again, or if he went out and bought these bulk packages of grey t-shirts. And, yeah, he used that same trick with the jacket over the shirt."

"Kids today got no sense of style."

Vecchio nodded in agreement. "None at all."

"So, you gonna hand over your boys to us?"

"No."

"You think the FBI's gonna give in any time soon?"

"No."

Cosmo set what was left of his food on the floor. "So I guess we're gonna be in here a while."

"I guess we are." Vecchio stabbed up the last chunk of meat on his plate, then pushed the plate away. "So, you ever sleep with your guy?"

"Yeah. Five years we were together."

"So, what happened?"

Cosmo stood up, walked the couple steps forward to stand right in front of Vecchio. "I couldn't deal with it anymore. You can't live with Sam Gerard; it isn't possible. You either go crazy or get out." With a brilliant grin on his face, Ray slid his hands up the sides of Cosmo's legs. "I chose to get out, and most of the time, I think I made the right choice."

"I've never slept with Benny." Ray's hands continued to move upwards, untucking Cosmo's shirt and burrowing beneath. "I might have, if he'd ever bothered to mention to me that he was interested. Apparently the subject came up with Kowalski, but me - his best friend for two years; I thought we told each other everything - he never gave the slightest hint that he was anything but the straightest man in the world."

Cosmo let out a small sigh as Ray's fingers sent little tingles through the skin of Cosmo's stomach. "Did he know you were...willing?"

"Oh yeah. Of course. I mean, friends, right? I told him all about my sex life - even told him about my relationship with that Kowalski brat. At the time, it didn't seem like a mistake."

"Oh, you think that's bad? I've been playing referee for Sammy and Noah ever since they started their little fuck-fest. The kid's insecure and Sam's emotionally cauterized, and what do I do? I help them." The edge of Ray's nails brushed lightly across Cosmo's nipples. "Oh, mmm. Yeah, more of that."

Ray stood up, moving his hands around behind Cosmo to pull him against Ray. "How much more?"

"Lots more." They moved together into a kiss. Ray's lips were soft, but demanding, pressing against Cosmo's. His strong, confident presence seemed focused all at once into the point of space where their lips touched. It was a strange state of being: Cosmo felt at once close to this man, whose problems were so much like his own, and also safely anonymous. The odds were against them ever seeing each other again. This random mix of intimacy and distance - it was this curious combination that made it so easy to talk to Ray Vecchio, aka Armando 'the Bookman' Langoustini.

"So, you in love with him?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

Cosmo pulled back from Ray, raising his hand to Ray's shoulder to keep him from following. "Hold on a sec. I should check in - make sure they're not going to walk in on us any time soon."

"Go for it."

Cosmo went over to the room's phone, dialed the number of Newman's digital. "Yes?"

"Hey, Noah, how's it going down there?"

"We're over at the FBI building; they're trying to get some sort of answer from Washington. So far, they're pretty much pulling our chain." There was a pause, then Noah spoke more quietly. "Sam's fit to be tied."

There were light fingers playing along Cosmo's spine, warm breathing on his neck. "I just bet he is. Look, could you do me a favor and call me if anyone heads back this direction?"

"Looking to be relieved?"

"No no no." Now Vecchio was nibbling, his breath tickling the small hairs right under Cosmo's hairline. "I'm fine here. Just trying to keep in touch."

"Okay, sure, I'll let you know."

Cosmo dropped the phone into the cradle as Vecchio's hands slid around his body, down his stomach, and over his thighs. "The real bitch of it is, I like the kid. Noah's a good Marshal, a sweet guy - I like him."

Vecchio's teeth scraped the skin right inside the collar of Cosmo's shirt. He leaned his head over, giving Ray easier access to the spot. Small shivers rippled across his skin. "That can make it tough."

"Tell me about it." Cosmo reached around behind, working his hands in between them to stroke across Vecchio's crotch. He turned his head to brush his lips against Ray's again, just flirting with contact.

Vecchio worked his leg in between Cosmo's, rubbing his hips against Cosmo's ass. They fell down on the bed together, arms and legs tangled together, lips pressed against each other. Cosmo was hard, and could feel the hard bulge of Vecchio's arousal. "You know what you need to do, Ray?"

"What's that?"

Cosmo was working on the buttons of Ray's shirt, brushing his fingers through Ray's chest hair as it became visible. "You shouldn't let this kid poach in your territory."

Ray lay back, folding his arms behind his head, allowing Cosmo to touch him at his leisure. "What are you talking about?"

"When you go home - don't let Kowalski stand in your way. Just grab Benny; don't give him a chance to say no. Show him how you feel; shove that kid outta the way." He latched his lips onto Ray's nipple.

Ray arched his back; his breathing became a bit more ragged as Cosmo began stroking his cock through the fabric of his pants. "You think so?"

"Yeah, sure. Give him the what for." Cosmo worked Ray's cock free of it's confines, lightly brushing his fingers up the length of it. "Don't let him say no."

"Why don't you do that? Show your Sammy who's boss?" Ray's foot was rubbing up and down Cosmo's calf; his fingers were running lightly down Cosmo's arms.

The thought was almost impossible for Cosmo to work through his mind. "Tell Sam Gerard what to do? He'd probably give himself an aneurism laughing so hard. No, I don't think so."

Ray reached down to undo Cosmo's pants, pulling out Cosmo's erection to rub against his own. "Coward." He gripped Cosmo's cock firmly at the base, stroked it. "You afraid because he's your boss?"

"Nah. Mainly because he's an arrogant prick who would never let anyone but Sam Gerard make a single decision that might affect his life." Cosmo slid down Ray's chest, till he was poised over the head of Ray's cock. "But then, if that were anything less than true, he wouldn't be Sammy."

Ray bit back an answer as Cosmo slid his lips down the length of Ray's erection. His hands locked onto Cosmo's head, holding him there. Cosmo increased his suction, deep-throating the undercover cop. "Oh yeah, that's nice." Cosmo worked the muscles of his throat, drawing a moan out of Vecchio.

The jangling sound of the phone made them both jump. "Shit." Cosmo rolled over and grabbed the receiver. "What?"

On the other end, Noah. "You said you wanted to know when someone was heading back. Cooper and Biggs are on their way. Should be there in ten, fifteen minutes." A slight hesitation. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, kid, fine. Just...fine. Thanks." He slammed the phone down. "We've got ten, maybe fifteen minutes before we're interrupted."

"Great." They stared at each other a single silent moment; both came to the same conclusion, but Ray voiced it. "Better be quick."

Cosmo moved around into a 69 position, both of them lying on their sides. Cosmo lowered himself back down over Vecchio's cock and felt Ray's lips, velvety smooth, slide over his. It had been a very long time for Cosmo, and he couldn't keep his hips from twitching against Ray's mouth. That elicited a chuckle from the cop. In return, Cosmo wrapped his hand around Ray's balls, squeezing gently, as he moved his head up and down over Ray's erection.

Ray came first, and Cosmo swallowed furiously, trying to keep from letting any semen spill from his mouth. Ray was still for a breath, then went back to sucking on Cosmo's cock as Cosmo's head fell back on the bed. One of Ray's arms was wrapped tightly around Cosmo's ass, holding him still as Ray worked his mouth completely down to the base of Cosmo's erection. Cosmo wanted it to last, but the feel of Ray's mouth was too overwhelming.

They lay sprawled on the bed, breathing heavily. "You know what?"

"What's that?" Cosmo moved his head so it was resting on Ray's thigh.

"I think I'm gonna do it. When they finally let me go home - I am gonna drag Benny aside and tell him just what I want from him." Ray reached down and brushed his fingers down Cosmo's cheek. "Thanks."

"No problem." Cosmo had no desire to move, but he knew they were on a time budget. He sat up, began working on reassembling his clothing. "Good to know someone's life may work out."

Ray reached across Cosmo for his tie that had somehow fallen off the bed. "Course, you realize I'll probably be uncovered by your idiot manhunt and shot tomorrow by my associates."

"Naturally." They were both reassembled and picking at the remains of their food when the door opened to admit Cooper and Biggs.

"-with a goat, which, of course, was never found."

"Biggs, you have the most weird-ass family."

Cosmo rolled his eyes, causing Ray to quirk a smile. "I think you two are done with whatever it is you're talking about."

"Shut up, Renfro. Just because you got to sit up here, sucking up room service, while we have to follow Sam around when he's throwing a snit fit: I don't want to hear anything out of you."

Cooper tossed the handcuffs from the spare bed onto the table, falling backwards onto it. "Some days, it just isn't worth it to work for that man."

"I don't suppose, Mr. Vecchio, you'd be willing-"

"Sorry. Not gonna happen."

Biggs head into the bathroom, still complaining under his breath, slammed the door behind him. Ray leaned back in his chair and gave Cosmo a wink. "I have to disagree with you, Cooper. Every day's a party when you work for Sam Gerard."

"You're insane, Renfro."

"Just might be." But as far as Cosmo was concerned, it was a good day to be a Marshal.