Section Six by LeFey Part Six lliot slumped against the cinder block wall, arms folded across his chest. He waited near the front door of the so-called video studio. It appeared to be just another warehouse space in an industrial park. Now, at ten o'clock at night the area surrounding the place was deserted. Elliot had watched the few people involved in the production leave, one by one. He knew that only Mac, Jason, Jake and the video's director were left inside. He needed to go back in and face the aftermath of what must have happened. He didn't move. He still couldn't make himself do it. Old memories, betrayals and the look of pure hatred on Jason Tell's face kept him fixed in place. The door opened and the tall muscular figure of the film's director, Max Hardt, was silhouetted across the Satyr Films placard next to the door. The man hesitated as he stepped into the light that washed the concrete steps. After a second he noticed Elliot and walked over to him, letting the door swing shut. "Your boy is very impressive." He rubbed his hand suggestively over the front of his pants. Elliot gave him a bitter smile. "Yeah, nobody fucks inanimate objects like he does." Hardt's face twisted into an agreeing frown. He raised his hand from his crotch to point at Elliot. "I'm with you there, girl. I don't like using Tell. He's just some kink the boss man has. When I acted in porn you'd get thrown off the set for taking anything. Now, I've got that bitch, Jake, feeding him drugs. Then I have to work with this guy loaded out of his mind." "Why do you do it?" Elliot threw back at him. "I told you. He's DelMar's toy." The man blinked, obviously confused. Elliot's cold fury was wasted on him. "A kink." He took a step towards Elliot. "Want to tell me about your kinks, beautiful?" "One very particular one. I detest sleaze bags." Elliot straightened and stepped closer to Hardt, not in the seductive slither the other man had used but an obvious challenge. "More to the point, here, you didn't understand the question. And I have to know how one so-called human being could do this to another." Elliot needed to explain, to direct some of the anger that knotted his muscles at someone. Since Mac wasn't here yet, Hardt could take his place. "Why do you perpetuate the misery? Yours, his, every other poor bastard trapped in this damn porn racket?" Hardt raised his hands in protest. "I'm not trapped. This is a business just like any other. They come and go." "Like cattle in a feed lot." The man shook his head and gave a condescending smile. "What's the matter, Diva, one of them turn you down? You could have had me, tonight. When I worked in front of the cameras I had one of the biggest dicks in the business." "Well, you still are one of the biggest dicks in the business." Hardt gave him a predatory glare. "You're getting twenty percent for bringing him here, parasite. When you don't, then you can complain." He turned and left. Elliot sunk back against the wall. He hated to admit it ,but the son of a bitch was right. His protest sounded hollow since Mac had made it clear to everyone that his manager was one hundred percent behind his little adventure. Elliot had only discovered what Mac had agreed to do as they followed Jake to the studio. His training pushed aside the sick realization of what the look on Jason Tell's face had really meant. In a moment Elliot was turned from a romantic interest into just another agent who pimped his models. He'd argued with Mac but knew it was useless. They were already too far into this mess to pull out. He wanted to utilize Jason to get to DelMar, but now all he could do was sacrifice him to gain the same results. Jason's smile, that shy, sweet, and oh so appealing smile, haunted Elliot as he tried to revise their plan and minimize the damage. When they arrived Jason was already high. He spotted Elliot standing at the edge of the light from the tiny film set. He pulled his striped polo shirt up over his head, revealing a body powerful and defined. He tossed the shirt towards Elliot. "You want some?" He licked his lips. Then he put his hands behind his head and flexed, in a gesture intensely sexual yet mocking. Elliot gave no response, and Jason brought his hands down. One cut a disgusted swath through the air. "Fuck you." The words spewed out in a slur. By the time the filming started Jason was nearly incoherent. As drunk and drugged as he was, Elliot knew there was no chance he could ever become erect. He had been reduced to just an object for Mac to fuck. Elliot understood that he needed to stay close. He was the only one who could make certain that neither Mac nor Jason got into more trouble. It was a struggle just to stand by and let it happen, though. Feelings of disgust and voyeuristic pleasure battled in him as he watched Mac explore Jason. Elliot could share the feeling of power and excitement as Mac slowly stripped the other man, tasted his smooth skin, and traced the contours of the muscled body. He hated Mac for agreeing to this, but could only envy him for the pleasure he was experiencing now. All these thoughts were shattered by one look at Jason Tell's face. His glassy eyed stare betrayed any idea that this was consensual sex. How many times had DelMar trapped him into performing these dehumanizing acts, and why? Mac moved his half-open mouth slowly over the other man's skin. A snap of erotic heat coursed through Elliot at the thought of how those soft full lips must feel while they traced across heated, sensitive skin. He had felt that only once, when they had shared Victor on his birthday. The thought of Vic shook him even more than the sight of Jason standing only because Mac propped him up. Mac had just given him the trump card. Vic was insecure enough that he needed Mac to be his alone. Elliot saw it constantly. Vic devised little tests, almost without realizing it, to make Mac prove, and re-prove that he loved him. Mac was needy enough to keep taking them and trying to pass. He had definitely flunked this test, though. When Victor found out about this -—and he would, probably from some slip on Mac's part -—he would be furious and hurt and ready for Elliot to slip in and console him. Elliot could provide what Mac couldn't. He would center all his attention, all his thoughts and actions on just one person: Jason. The unbidden name made him wince. Vic, Victor, Vic, he chanted to himself in reminder. He wanted to smack himself in the head. Why would the image of Jason intrude when he was so close to having what he wanted? Vic had been the unattainable desire from the first moment that he'd seen him. Vic was the real man who he could never have. This was so stupid. He'd just met Jason Tell, and he couldn't think about anyone else. "Focus. Focus, damnit!" he whispered under his breath. Elliot looked up when he heard a muffled groan a few feet away. When his eyes adjusted from the glare of the video set to the dim light that surrounded it, he saw the video director begin to jerk-off. He knew this act could be considered a compliment in porn circles, the director so distracted by the action he plays with himself. Mac was hot, Elliot begrudgingly admitted that, but what he was doing reduced Jason to just a means of masturbation. Emotions, that Elliot thought he had long ago discarded, warred with what he knew he needed to do for this assignment. He didn't like indecision in himself or others. He knew what he wanted. All he had to do was take the initiative and win the prize. He was exhilarated at the selfish prospect of finally eliminating Mac from the picture. That picture was becoming harder to discern, though, with each pulsing pound of blood in his temples. His attention was less and less on Vic and more on Jason Tell. The video's director glanced over at him and a panicked sweat glazed Elliot's body. His surprised blink was answered by a knowing smirk from the video director as he nodded towards the two men under the lights. So, they thought he was one of them. The same... something-phile... there had to be a phile or an ism or some other nasty clinical term for enjoying this one-sided display. Elliot looked away with a kind of heated shame that he hadn't felt since childhood. He was not one of them, and prayed he never would be. But he couldn't prove it, not while his job, his assignment, made him leave Jason Tell wasted under the hot video lights. When the man turned back to watch more of the action Elliot turned, and fled the room. Elliot kicked the wall again with his heel, as the stinging memory of what he should have done taunted him. He should be in there, now. He should be looking out for Jason. "Mac!" he said aloud. It was his partner who deserved his concern. The mission, the job ... his partner, he listed his priorities to himself. "Focus," he ordered again. That focus shouldn't be directed at that wide-eyed muscle boy who obviously had to be rocked out of his mind before they could take their dirty pictures of him. He was merely a means to an end. There were lots of cute-assed Jason Tell's in the world. There was only one mission right now and there only ever had been one Victor Mansfield. Think about Victor! "Idiot!" He chastised himself as his thoughts had already drifted back to Jason. He pushed away from the wall, and was about to go in when the door opened. Mac stepped into the teal glow from the arc lights. "You okay?" Elliot asked. Mac smiled and it turned into an embarrassed grin as he dipped his head. "Actually, I'm pretty damn good." "What?" "God, Elliot," Mac grabbed his arm. "It was a total rush!" Elliot shook his head. "I should have known you'd like it too much. You and Vic will have to sell tapes." Mac's grip tightened on his arm, and the smile vanished. "You can't tell Vic! He can't ever find out about this. He'd never understand." Elliot shook out of his grasp. "I told you, I like Vic. You're dirty little secret is safe with me. I'm not going to do anything to deliberately hurt him." He knew he didn't have to. There were many ways this would get back to Vic, and none of them would be seen as coming from Elliot. Mac smiled with relief. "Thanks, man." Then he gave Elliot a skeptical look. "You really do like him. I mean I know you think he'd hot. And to be honest, I don't trust you alone with him." Elliot only shrugged in reply. Maybe Mac wasn't so preoccupied with himself that he couldn't see the truth. "But I know there's more." The words came very close to a challenge. "You like who he is. And that's what scares the hell out of me." Elliot stared at him for a moment and considered laying out his whole plan, his seductions, his stealth, and finally the theft of Victor Mansfield's heart. This wasn't the time or place. Mac was high off his performance sex, and Elliot felt a little dirty for having had to witness it. But still the thought of what he could do flickered with a cold flame in the back of his mind. He decided it wasn't worth the effort. Doe eyed Victor wouldn't be in love with this mouthy over-grown kid once he found out how much Mac liked to have sex while other people watched. "You tell me," he asked Mac after he exhaled a longing sigh, "what's not to like about Victor?" "Not that much." Mac looked down for a moment and his eyes were cheerless when he looked back. "That's what makes it so bad when he walks away." Mac shook his head. "I shouldn't have done this." "No kidding! I wished you'd actually talked to me before you said yes. I could have maneuvered our way out of this. I wanted to get close to Jason. He must know a lot about DelMar's organization. Now, he thinks I'm just another scum manager. It must have been pretty damn obvious to you that he didn't want to do this." Mac nodded a guilty agreement. "That's why he got so loaded, I guess." "Where is he now?" "Last time I saw him he was sitting in the back, barely awake. Jake said he would take care of him." "You believe that?" "No." Mac reached for the door. "We better go check on him." The door was opened before he could touch it, and Jake came out, keys in hand. He looked a bit startled when he saw the two of them. "You guys are still here? You need to follow me out?" "Where's Jason?" Elliot demanded. "He's inside." Jake slipped his key in the lock. "We let him sleep it off here. He leaves when he wakes up." "He came with you," Mac's voice rose in protest, "How the hell is he going to get home?" Jake shrugged off the concern. "He finds a way. There's a phone in there. He's done it before." The night had been a car crash for Elliot. He felt like he had survived a wreck but at the cost of smashed feelings and reactions scattered in torn pieces across this emotional accident scene. This wasn't Elliot the Section Six agent. He didn't know who the hell he was tonight. But slowly, as he stared at Jake, who showed nothing but indifference, Elliot fell back on the tricks that allowed him to do his work. In others it could be called compartmentalizing. The first time Elliot had heard the term kill-switch he knew that was what his trick must be. He shut off or killed the anger, the outrage, or emotions that might get in the way of his completing his assignment. That was the thing that kicked in now and kept him from killing Jake where he stood. "We'll take Jason with us." Elliot looked at Mac who nodded. Mac pushed Jake aside, and had the door open in a moment. "Hey! I'm not waiting around for him." Jake said as he stepped back to avoid being shoved aside. "I've got a date." They left him standing outside as the door swung shut. A few exit signs gave faint light as Mac and Elliot navigated their way through the darkened building. "He's back here, someplace." Mac said as he groped along a wall. There was a click and a light flashed overhead when he found a switch. Elliot blinked and his eyes focused quickly to the light. The first thing he saw was a lumpy chair. A second later he identified it as an unconscious, naked Jason Tell sprawled in a tattered chair. His head lolled to one side, mouth open, and he gasped more than he breathed. Elliot rushed over to him and knelt by his side. He'd seen this before. The kill-switch clamped down tighter on his memories, and let him go on auto. He reached for Jason's wrist and checked the pulse. "Did you see what he took?" He asked Mac. "Not really, just pills that Jake kept giving him." "So this wasn't his idea. They drugged him." "Yeah. Well, I got the impression it was mutual. I don't think he would have done the video without the drugs." Mac gathered up Jason's clothes, and stood beside Elliot. "You were right. He didn't want to do this." Elliot took a t-shirt out of Mac's outstretched hand and began to pull it over Jason's head. "You're going to have to help me dress him." "Sure. We can't take him back to the hotel like this." Jason was mobile but not aware. They had gotten him to stand, but he was not cognizant of his surroundings. Mac was searching the room for a jacket that he had seen Jason wearing earlier. Elliot was on his knees zipping up Jason's pants when he finally came around. "Pretty." The slurred word startled Elliot. He looked up, and Jason Tell was smiling crookedly down at him. "I'd do it on with you." "I found it!" Mac said and held up the jacket. Jason swung around towards the source of the voice. Elliot heard the rumble in his stomach before he saw the distressed look on the man's face. He jumped up and stepped behind him. "Mac! Grab... something." Mac read the situation perfectly, and placed a plastic wastebasket at Jason's feet just in time. Elliot held on to him from behind as he doubled and emptied the contents of his stomach. The spasms and retching went on long after they were productive. After a minute Jason quieted and hung limply in Elliot's grasp. "Right, sleep it off," Elliot said hotly as Mac approached with a towel. "More likely he'd drown in his own vomit." He was getting too old for this shit. It was too hard to keep the anger at bay. He wanted to find Jake and make him pay for this. He wanted to wipe the smug sneer off DelMar's face with his fists. His kill-switch was on, but Jason Tell and his situation was going to short circuit him any minute. "Isn't that how most rock stars die?" Mac asked as he kicked the fouled wastebasket aside, and stood Jason up so he could wipe his face. Elliot was startled by the light tone in the other man's voice, but was just as suddenly grateful for the distraction. "Number on the obit chart," he agreed. "That, and liver disease." He smiled back at Mac who grinned past Jason while he cleaned him. "You're not a half-bad partner, Mac." Mac frowned for a second. "Isn't that a double negative? I'm no really sure what that means." "It means thanks for helping me out here." Mac gave him a grudging nod. "Never thought I'd hear that from you. We better get out of here. I assume Jake is long gone." "He better be," Elliot warned as he pulled Jason's arm around his shoulder, and readied to take him out to the car. "If there are anymore towels, bring them." "I found three." Mac tucked the towels inside his own jacket before he secured Jason's other arm around his neck. "Good, because we can't let him get sick in the car. It belongs to Dobrinsky." "Dob..." Mac gulped and nearly dropped Jason's limp weight. "Dobrinsky! I don't think it's safe to be your partner." He shouldered Jason again, and they began to move him towards the door. "One of Dobrinsky's cars," Mac mused. "Jeeze, man you must have a death wish." Elliot opened the car door, and placed his hand on Mac's head to guide him into the back seat as Mac helped Jason. The thought of what it would be like with Mac if Vic weren't in the picture came unbidden. Mac was an appealing mixture of adolescent fun and raw masculinity. If Mac wasn't the competition he would be a pleasant distraction, Elliot mused for a moment, but just a moment. He knew Victor was the prize, regardless of the emotions that either of these two men stirred in him. He shut the car door hoping, that soon, he could shut both Mac and Jason out of his life. Part Seven Mac sat in the back seat holding Jason while Elliot drove. Fortunately, the trip so far had been uneventful. Jason only stirred once, and it looked like he was going to be sick again. Mac was ready with the towel, but all that Jason produced was a cough. After Mac wiped his mouth, the man settled back into unconsciousness. There really was a sweetness in his face, Mac thought as he held Jason and watched him sleep. When he'd smiled at him, in the video, with that bleary eyed grin, it was impossible not to smile back. He remembered when they first met at DelMar's office—how a fully functioning Jason Tell had left a professional like Elliot Hampton nearly speechless. That had been a strange scene. Maybe Vic wasn't the person Elliot wanted to protect from the bad judgment in making the video? Mac shook his head. He knew better. It was always about Vic with Elliot. As soon as they left the car Elliot put his arm around Jason and shifted the man's weight away from Mac. "It's okay," Mac said, still holding onto the sagging man. "I've got him." "You did the ride over. I'll do the rest." Elliot took a firm hold of Jason, and began to walk him towards the doors that lead to the elevators. He hesitated a moment and fished his keys out of his pocket. "You want to do the honors with this?" He tossed the keys to Mac. "Sure," Mac answered as he caught the keys, then jogged a few steps to catch up with Elliot. He held the door open as he walked Jason Tell through. Mac was a little suspicious about the real reason he'd been relieved of his burden. Something in the way Elliot touched Jason was not what he'd expected. It was a caress more than just a hand to keep the other man steady. There was a concern, too. Elliot's face displayed a care that was surprising. Mac never imagined Elliot might have the capacity to feel more than physical attraction with anyone besides Vic. With everyone else he was just on the make, looking for the next conquest. Jason Tell wasn't much of a conquest in his present condition. "Jason's kind of cute," Mac said, testing, as he studied Elliot for a response. "You'd know." Elliot tightened his jaw. "Right." Mac's voice trailed off as he was reminded of his own intimate knowledge of Jason Tell. He watched a couple more floors roll past on the lighted number panel. "He's cute in a sort of hunk, body builder way, but not so much of a muscle freak that..." "Mac, for once could you not talk just to hear yourself talk. Right now, the guy is cute in a real puke on yourself, asphyxiate in your sleep kind of way." Elliot shifted his grip on Jason. "Give this whole thing about how hot he is, how hot you are, and how hot you were together a rest." Mac opened his mouth to protest. Elliot always brought out the am not, are too fight in him. He thought better of it, though. Elliot was looking away from him. It hadn't been the challenge Mac took it for. It was more a plea for Mac to stop treading too close to something. Elliot cradled Jason Tell against him during the ride up to their floor. What was it that Elliot wanted with this guy, Mac wondered. He was average height with sandy hair and baby-wide hazel eyes. He was nothing like Victor. Maybe Mac had just pushed Elliot's competition button. Mac had seen it a thousand times when he'd been on the prowl himself. It was easy to imagine Elliot zeroing in on the hottest babe or the finest guy in a club, and laying claim to them regardless of whom they were with. Mac had seen it happen, hell, he'd made it happen countless times. First it was Victor and now this guy. Maybe, Mac thought as they neared the door to Elliot's room, Jason Tell was just one more guy Elliot figured he could take away from him. "Don't flatter yourself," Mac growled under his breath as he unlocked the door to the room. "What?" Elliot asked, while he propped Jason Tell against the wall. "The lock is sticky." "You're a thief, so... ." Mac pushed open the door and stepped back, ushering Elliot inside with a wave of his hand. He didn't bother to help as Elliot jostled the unresponsive Tell inside, and over to the bed. The anger he'd swallowed in the elevator was eating at him. Elliot stood up after he situated Jason on the bed. He spun on Mac. "Thanks for the help." Mac shrugged, and threw the keys on the dresser. "I thought you were doing okay, Nurse Nightingale." The thief remark had pissed him off, especially coming from this whore. He was suddenly tired and didn't think he had to play nice anymore. When Elliot's gaze met Mac's, it looked like he felt the same way. "You're the reason I didn't want to take this assignment." "Big surprise," Mac threw up his hands. "You'd rather have Vic on the other side of that door." He pointed towards his adjoining room. Elliot hissed out a laugh and shook his head. "This is what happens when you're forced to work with amateurs. I told the Director we didn't need either of you, but she wanted to cover all the bases. I said I could play the rich investor, and Ivy could be my wife... ." Mac interrupted with a loud laugh that made Elliot glance back towards Jason. "Funny joke!" Mac pointed at Elliot. "Who would believe you could be with a woman." Elliot gave him an infuriating smile. "I've been with more women than you've had turn you down. Do the math, that's a pretty substantial number. Besides, Mac, if you don't stop getting caught in the research stacks, humping Vic's leg the total Mo crown will go to you." "It always comes back to Vic, doesn't it? That's what gets to you—that I can get to Victor anytime." "Hmmm?" Elliot took off his jacket, draping it over the back of the chair, and leaned against the desk. "I seem to remember a long sad story about Victor walking away from you." "Fuck you, Elliot!" Elliot winked. "Snappy comeback." Mac took a step towards him. "I could snap something." "Come on!" Elliot slapped his own chest with both hands. "I'm tired of babysitting you, and cleaning up your fucking messes!" He jerked his thumb towards Jason Tell. "You do have a death wish, fool?" Mac said quietly, but his hands came up ready to strike. A garbled sound came from the bed, and both men froze in their fight stance. Jason Tell attempted to sit up, but his hand slipped on the bedspread. He fell back onto the pillow but tried to rise again, his eyes still closed. Elliot's arms came down first. "Great! You woke him up." "Me! I'm not the one who was begging to get his ass kicked." Elliot knelt beside the bed, and eased Jason back down. "It's okay," he said softly, all the anger gone from his tone. "You need something?" There it was again. The concerned and gentle Elliot that Mac found so unfathomable. He watched for a moment as this stranger ministered to Jason. Some of the adrenaline had drained away, although Mac's fingers still tingled with a desire to beat the previous smugness from Elliot's face. "I'll get him some water." "Thanks," Elliot replied without turning, and it surprised Mac how sincere he sounded. As he neared the bathroom door Elliot stopped him. "No water. He needs to piss." "Wait, I'll help you." Mac stepped quickly to the other side of the bed. Between the two of them they had Jason Tell on his feet and heading for the john. Bang! Something hit Mac's door, booming through the open door between their rooms. The two men flinched. Bang, Bang! Mac and Elliot looked at each other. Then the sound died to an insistent, rapid knocking. "I'm not so sure I want to get that." Mac raised his eyebrows. "Go on," Elliot motioned him away. "I can handle him from here." "You sure?" The knocking had ratcheted up a notch, and Mac nodded his agreement as Elliot waved him away again. "I'm coming!" he shouted at the closed door while he crossed the room. The knocking remained the same. The last time Mac had heard something like this there was an irate boyfriend on the other side of the door. Or was that the time with the kid's dad? Could have been that misunderstanding with the girl he thought was a guy and her dyke girl friend. Some men dreamed of being with two women, but not while one was trying to twist you into a pretzel. The knocking went back to a steady, percussive banging. "Give it a rest!" He turned the knob and jerked open the door. "Vic... ." He barely had the name out when Victor grabbed him by the throat. "You piece of shit!" Vic thrust him back across the room. The words were slurred with anger. Despite the tightening grip on his throat Mac could see the reddened face and bared teeth as Vic attached him. His face was like a storm. He wasn't going to stop by himself. Mac was caught by surprise. Vic had the advantage and momentum. In a second Mac found himself on the bed, head dangling over the edge as Victor choked him. He fought to get a hand free, his arms pinned between his chest and Vic's. If he could get one blow in a vulnerable spot he could dislodge him. Vic was shouting, the veins in his neck standing out like cord. "Bastard...Fucking prick-ass bastard! I'll kill you for this. Cock-sucking mother-fucker! I'll kill you." Mac tried to scream back at him as they fought. Vic was like a boa constrictor, his grip tightened with each breath, choking out any attempt Mac made to shout. "You destroyed my life! You're fucking dead!" Vic was bouncing on him now, shaking him as he lay half off the bed while they struggled. Mac leaned into the force and found his rhythm. One more wrenching jerk and he used Victor's weight to flip him backwards and into the wall behind them. Mac was off the bed in a second and moved towards the door. He collided with someone rushing through the half open door. Mac acted on instinct and turned the person towards Vic. He wanted to get something, anything between himself and this mad man who wanted to kill him. In an instant he saw it was Ivy. Just as quickly as he'd spun her in Vic's direction, he pushed her back towards the door. "Get out of here!" He tried to shout but his voice was an injured croak. Ivy jerked out of his grasp. "Victor, stop! You can't do this," she pleaded with him as he rose from the floor. She might as well have been mute. His eyes were narrowed and focused only on Mac. Mac wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Get out of here," he repeated, and tried to take her arm once again. She pulled from his grasp and wheeled on him. "He saw it!" "What?" Mac's voice returned to normal, but the panicked urgency in it scared him. "He saw that fuck film you made." Victor was standing now. "That's right. I saw your lying cock go up some dickheads ass. I saw it in front of sixty people at DelMar's party." His voice was low and throaty with rage. "You've played your fucking games with me, and toyed with me, and put me through hell for the last time. You're a dead man." He lunged at Mac again as Ivy yelled for him to stop. Mac pushed her aside and turned back to defend himself. Vic's fist caught him on the side of the face. He rolled away from the kick that followed. He rose to his feet and took the Dragon's fist stance. "Back off," he warned. "I don't want to hurt you, Vic." "Too late." Victor feigned a lunge at him once, then twice before Mac stepped forward. Vic moved aside just as Mac's hand neared and the blow glanced off his shoulder. Air whooshed past Mac's ear as Vic's closed fist hurtled at him. It impacted with a whop on the side of his head. He staggered back but just for a moment. He raised his open palm and the heel of his hand impacted with Vic's chest. There was a soft oomph sound but Vic wasn't fazed. This was bad. The guy was on a fight high spiked with rage. Mac threw another punch but Vic blocked it. In a second he was caught in Vic's grasp again. Lights flashed behind his eyes as Vic's thumbs pushed into his windpipe. Mac grappled with Vic's hands trying to break his hold. It wasn't working. He raised his hands to box Vic's temples, hoping that would be enough to break off the attack. Click. Both men froze at the sharp, metallic sound of the gun being cocked. Mac couldn't see it clearly, because he was too close and his eyes were watering, but the blurred cylindrical shape that pressed against Vic's temple was definitely a gun barrel. "Let go of him, Victor." Elliot pressed the barrel of the gun a little closer when Vic didn't respond. "This isn't going to happen. Let go of Mac." Vic's eyes glittered with a feral anger. "Your pimp," he told Mac. "Move away from him, Victor." Elliot's tone grew more insistent. Mac felt the slightest change in pressure and put his hands up once more to try and work Vic's fingers away from his throat. "I'm not playing here, Victor." Elliot moved around trying to make eye contact and break the obsessed stare Vic had fixed on Mac. "I'm not going to let you ruin your life like this." For a split second Mac wanted to put a fist through Elliot's face. He was choking to death and Elliot wasn't going to let Vic ruin his life? Another second Mac pried away the fingers that had him trapped. He pushed off and staggered back. He doubled over and coughed as a deep breath caught in his throat. The fit lasted a few seconds. When he was finally able to straighten, Vic was sitting on the end of the bed, his hands cradling his bowed head. Elliot still had the gun at the ready but no longer trained on Vic. "You have to listen to me, man." The plea came out as a raspy wheeze. Elliot, still looking at Vic pointed a finger towards Ivy. "What's this about?" "Mac was the entertainment at DelMar's party tonight." Her voice rang with distaste. "We got to see the money shot, when he mounted some guy. It was up on a wall of TV screens twenty feet high." Elliot looked over at Mac and shook his head. "That's unfortunate." Vic jumped up and stood nose to nose with Elliot. "It's a little bit more than fucking unfortunate. Where the hell were you when this was going down? Counting your part of the take?" "Victor, I... ." "You were supposed to stop this. The Director made such a damn stink about you being the expert." His voice took on an even angrier sing-song tone. "You were going to know what to do. You were going to... ." "He never talked to me," Elliot blurted out. "We were committed to the shoot before I knew about it." "Thanks, partner." "You shut the fuck up!" Vic's arm shot out towards Mac and his hand trembled as he pointed at him. "Nobody is fucking talking to you!" "Vic, it was part of the assignment. There was always the possibility that this would happen," Elliot stated. "Vic, let's just talk about this, alone." Mac carefully rubbed his neck with one hand. "What are you going to do?" Vic looked at him for the first time since the fight stopped, but he looked away quickly, his hands balling into fists. "You going to tell me Elliot held a gun to your head? I don't care if he lubed up your cock. This is your fault." "I think you need to leave, Victor. Put a little space between you and the situation. We'll talk about this in the morning." Elliot reached out to take Vic's arm, but he jerked away. "Vic isn't going anywhere." Mac took a step forward trying to gain his attention. "Just let me talk to you, man." "What? You think you can talk your way out of this, work me, and manipulate me like you usually do? You should have talked your way out of making that video." Vic threw up his hands. "But that would have spoiled your fun." "Nothing is going to be resolved tonight." Elliot interrupted. "Not the way you feel." "Oh, we can finish one thing tonight. You seem to think you're in charge of this screwed up operation." He jerked his finger at Elliot. "You contact the Director, right now, and tell her this is over." "Victor, you're upset... ." "No! No, Elliot I'm through. I'm through pretending that I can put up with all this crap. I'm through feeling like I want to scrub my skin off at the end of the day because of what these operations have made me do." "Victor," Ivy reached out her open hand. "I want you to come upstairs with me. You need to calm down." "And it will only cost you fifty-dollars," Mac chimed in. Ivy turned and scowled at him. "Your rates go up?" Mac cocked his head and studied her with mock curiosity. "I can't believe you'd get a hundred bucks a trick. Even a hundred bucks Canadian" Vic threw himself at Mac and crushed him against the wall. "Don't talk to her like that." He grabbed Mac by the shoulders and punctuated each word with another thrust against the wall. "You're the whore! You're the fucking whore." He repeated the words until Elliot and Ivy managed to dislodge him. Elliot pushed Vic towards the other side of the room, and then looked back at Mac. "I should leave you alone with him." Mac rubbed his arm where Victor's fingers had dug in as he battered him. "That would fit nicely into your master plan. You've been waiting for an opportunity like this, haven't you?" Vic spun on Mac again. "I told you, don't blame him. This is your fault. You did this to me!" "And what did you do to me?" Mac met Vic in the middle of the room. "This was a mistake, a horrible mistake and I'm sorry. I never meant for you or wanted you to find out about it. It was a one time thing, that's all." "And that's your excuse? It only happened once so in your warped mind that makes it okay?" "I'm asking you to forgive me." Vic gave a hapless shrug but then shook his head no. "Goddamn it Vic, I deserve it." He hesitated to say it but the game was lost now anyway. He was through being the dupe. "I know about Elliot!" "What are you talking about?" Vic held out his hands as if trying to grasp some meaning from Mac's words. "I know you've fucked around with Elliot." Vic still shook his head. "Of course you know. You were there." Mac raised his hand and he was trembling as badly as Vic had been moments before. He displayed his right index finger. "I was there the first time." He uncurled his left index finger. "But not the last time, or all the other times in-between." He displayed his hands all the fingers splayed out in a rigid, shaky gesture. He saw the expression on Vic's face change. The anger was draining away. An uneasy disbelief made him dip his head for a moment. Mac would have felt sorry for him if it didn't hurt so much to see the mute confirmation in his eyes. Vic glanced over to Elliot. "Don't look at me," came the soft reply. "I never told him anything." Mac let out a deep sigh. All the denial he'd used to protect himself was gone now. Elliot's corroboration didn't sit well with Vic either. Mac knew the look, the disbelief and betrayal that creased Vic's brow. "I didn't tell him," Elliot repeated. His voice had an edge to meet the challenge on Vic's face "He didn't have to tell me Vic. You were so damn sloppy about leaving things around it was like you wanted me to find out. I even found one of his pretentious monogrammed polo shirts in your gym bag." "Snooping, Mac?" Elliot asked. Mac balled his fist in reflex to the smug tone. "No, you prick. I was gathering up his laundry. He'd spent a long weekend with me and I was doing our wash. Something you've probably never had to do for him." Elliot's jaw tightened. "You're right, Mac. I've never done that. I've never had the luxury of spending a long weekend with Vic. I'm lucky if I get a couple of hours." Mac threw out his arms in helpless rage. "Jesus Christ, Elliot! You're breaking my fucking heart." "Mac, this doesn't matter." Vic motioned towards Elliot. "I'm not going to talk about this in front of... of everybody." His voice took on a note of panic. "You have to know that it wasn't about you. It wasn't deliberate. I didn't... I didn't mean for this to happen." "You lied to me!" Ivy's voice cut off the words of protest as they formed on Mac's lips. She stared at Elliot who only looked at the floor. "You don't fully understand the situation." His voice was muted and dismissive. "Don't bother with Vic," she said in a tight, mocking tone. "You can't get back what you think you had, what was never there in the first place." "Ivy." Elliot looked over to her, his face a mask of controlled anger. "Not now. This is not the time!" "I trusted you." Her voice threatened to break. "You were my partner and I listened to you." "I am your partner," he interrupted. Her voice rose to drown him out. "And all you were doing was trying to keep Vic for yourself." "Ivy." The name came as an apology from Vic. "I didn't know you worked with Elliot. Hell, I didn't know that you worked for the Agency until you walked into the briefing room this morning. I never meant to hurt you." He glanced over at Mac as if the words were for him as well. "Elliot and I ... it just happened." Vic touched her arm and she jerked away from him. "God Vic! How long do you think that crap is going to work?" Her arms folded across her chest like a barrier. "I just happened to find my dick in his mouth. I don't know how it got there? I never meant for it to happen. Just how stupid do you think we all are? I can't believe, or at least I don't want to believe, that you are so fucking lame that you have no control over your actions. And as for you." She turned and pointed at Mac. "If you let him get away with this crap, you fucking deserve each other. He's not that damn good in bed. But maybe I'm wrong. I've never had a cock he could suck." "You could have fooled me," Mac threw back. Victor shoved him in the shoulder, leaving a growing ache where the heel of his hand impacted. Mac raised his hands ready to strike, ready to give back much of the pain that had been visited upon him tonight. Elliot rose to his feet as well. Good, this was going to be perfect. It wouldn't take much to leave him bleeding. Mess up Elliot, and then beat some sense into Vic. Finish the night off by throwing that mouthy whore, Ivy, out into the hall. Things could be fixed, and Mac intended to fix them by hand. His fingers curled into the tiger's paws. The door between the two hotel rooms flew open and banged against the wall. Jason Tell wobbled in the doorway as he tried to take a step forward. He was nude except for a pair of tan briefs. He tried to plant his feet but one leg nearly buckled. "You... I'll help... You safe, Elliot?" The words slurred out of him as he looked over at Elliot. He squinted his eyes as he tried to focus. Elliot immediately reached to take his arm. "Oh, this is fucking sweet!" Vic launched another punch, but Mac fended it off and countered with a glancing blow that tagged Vic on the ear. Vic reeled back and touched the tip, then examined his fingers for any blood. He glared back at Mac. "Nice." His voice was low and deadly. "You bring your fuck toy back here for later?" "Look at him, Vic!" The words came out in an angry staccato as Mac pointed at Jason. "He's all fucked up. They gave him drugs and left him. We brought him back because he was passed out and could have died. He's no big competition for you. He had to be stoned to let me fuck him." "Makes sense to me," Ivy snapped. Mac turned, giving her a cold stare. "Shut up, bitch." The blow caught him on the side of the head setting off a shower of lights as he staggered back. Vic didn't follow up but turned on Jason Tell. "You're next shit head." Elliot had his arm around the other man's waist helping to support him. He took a step forward, partially shielding Tell from Vic. His expression hardened into determined strength. "You won't touch him, Vic." The unexpected challenge startled some of the anger out of Vic. "He's a casualty in all this and you're not going to hurt him. It was my idea to bring him here. You want to hit someone? You hit me." Vic wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "This is all so easy for you, isn't it? You're always so cool and above it all. I was just another way to show how fucking clever you are. I was just a game to you." "Be honest, Vic. It's too late to be anything else. I was the game for you. I made it plain how I felt, and what I wanted. You'd let me flatter and fawn over you to prove something to yourself, and then you'd run back to Ramsey." "Fuck you!" The words spewed out of Jason Tell. Elliot clamped his hand over the other man's mouth. He turned to look at Vic. "I guess there's no chance of that ever happening between us, now. You win Mac. Congratulations." Mac leaned against the wall and exhaled. This didn't feel like a win, and Vic didn't look like much of a prize right now. "You better put Jason back to bed," he said without looking up. "I'll be back and we'll talk this out." Mac pushed away from the wall. "No. You were right to begin with. We need some space. I want all of you out of my room." He took the few steps to the adjoining door and held it open. "Contact the Director and tell her this assignment is a bust. Blame me if you want, she will anyway." Elliot hesitated as he neared the door. "I'm not getting the Director involved. We can talk this out in the morning." "I've had enough talk." Mac felt as bone weary and out of it as Jason Tell looked. "Just take care of Jason. See that he makes it through this okay." Elliot nodded as he crossed the threshold. "We'll sort this out in the morning." The promise was muffled as Mac shut the door behind him. He turned to see Vic sitting on the end of the bed. Why did the guy have to be such a stubborn shit? Why couldn't he just leave? He was going to make him do it, say the words. Mac was empty inside, and the shell that was left had been tempered. He didn't want to, but he knew he could say it now. He was prepared to tell Vic to leave. Part Eight "I'm leaving." Ivy had the door to the hallway open and stepped just beyond the threshold. "I want you to come with me, Vic." Mac reached out and slammed the door in her face. Vic jumped from the bed. "Do you always have to be so fucking rude to her?" he snarled. He opened the door quickly and Ivy stepped back inside. Her jaw was set as Vic put his hands on her arms. "I won't be long," Vic told her She didn't look at him but glared at Mac. "Just go back upstairs and I'll be there soon." She resisted as he tried to move her towards the door. After a moment she jerked out of his grasp, and pointed a finger at Mac. "I hope he beats the fuck out of you!" She turned, raising one hand to stop any comment from Vic, and left the room, slamming the door behind her. "Why!" Vic shouted. "Why do you have to treat her like that?" Mac jerked his arm out, pumping his finger in the direction Ivy had gone. "Sure, but it's cool that she can tell you to beat me up?" "I don't understand you!" Vic grabbed his head with both hands as if to ward off more pain. "Why do you do this?" His hands came down in a helpless shrug. "Why? Why did you do it? Just tell me why. Why? Why?" He repeated the question until the frustrated rage drained from him and he stood with his arms limply at his sides. "Why did you do it?" His voice was little more than a whispered plea. "She said she was leaving," Mac offered, but he knew that wasn't what Vic was asking. "You should go, too." Vic laughed bitterly and shook his head. "So this is it? I always worried that something might happen to you, because of the job. Or I thought there'd be," he hesitated a moment and cleared his throat, "a woman. That you'd meet a woman and you and I would just be some big mistake. I never guessed it would be over because there were other guys." Vic lowered his head as the last words trailed off. Part of Mac was dying to take him in his arms, hold him, and reassure that scared kid in Vic that it could never be over between them. But part of Mac was just dying. "It hurts doesn't it?" Vic raised his head, and Mac noted the muted surprise on his face that he hadn't refuted the fact that it was over between them. "Yeah it hurts," Vic answered, his voice tight and harsh. "What I saw tonight hurt me to my heart." He pounded his clenched fist against his chest, beating out each word. "Is that what you want to hear? You want to know the degree? You want to know the ring of hell I was standing in while you fucked that cheap hustler in front of a room full of strangers? You want to know what it felt like as my soul was ripped out of me when you called him baby, when you told him he was fucking hot?" Mac stared at Vic as he wove a tapestry of anguish around himself. He didn't know when he would accept Vic's pain as an apology. He didn't know if he could. There was never enough pain to satisfy him. He had beaten his adopted brother Michael to a bloody pulp in search of vengeance for the other man's betrayals. It wasn't enough. After Vic's admission about Elliot he could probably kill Vic and it wouldn't be enough. Or more than likely he'd let Vic kill himself now that he floundered in his own misery. Not even a death felt sufficient to undo what had happened. Mac sat down on the bed and covered his face with his hands. This horrible night was allowing the dark visions to return, the terrifying memories of his mother's death. The same miserable feelings of rage and helplessness that he'd endured as he sat next to her bed in the public hospital and watched her die. He wasn't thirteen yet when she died of an untreated cancer. He couldn't carry the dark void placed on him by her death. The same shaking, frightening feeling that possessed him that night, rattled through him now. This was like being the powerless witness to another death. He brought his hands down and wove the fingers together as his arms rested on his legs. His own anger had gelled into a cold fear. He looked up at Vic. He didn't want vengeance and a request for forgiveness would never satisfy him. It struck him with merciless certainty. He needed Vic. He couldn't stop his mother from leaving him, but he wasn't going to let Vic walk away again. There had to be words to undo it all. He was the master of word magic. Now that they were alone, he could talk Vic down. He'd start slowly with an explanation and a pinch of contrition. "As soon as it was over, when, you know, the excitement was over, I knew it was a mistake. I never wanted you to find out. I would have never told you." Vic laughed again and pointed at the door that led to the next hotel room. "Did you think Elliot wouldn't tell me?" "No, he wouldn't. That's the part that you don't get, or at least won't admit to me. Elliot would never hurt you himself. He cares about you. He stood right here and said so." Mac got to his feet without realizing it, and his voice rose as he did. "That's what tears my heart out. I had a one-night stand with a stranger; you've been fucking around for eight months with somebody who loves you!" "He doesn't love me." Vic gave a half-hearted denial. "The hell he doesn't!" Mac took a step closer; the anger was hot and flowing in him again. "He walks into a room and it's like he has radar for you." Mac stood even closer but Vic didn't backup. "Whenever he's around you he's touching you and smiling. He can walk right up to you at a party and kiss you!" Mac pounded a finger into Vic's chest. "Kiss you on the mouth and you don't even stop him!" He shoved Vic back against the door as the rage exploded in him. "Everybody sees it!" He gripped Vic by the shoulders and battered him against the door. "I hate you for that! I hate you for thinking I'm so stupid I don't see it!" Vic wasn't fighting back, only wincing as he impacted with the door. Then the words came out in grunts as the wind was knocked out of him each time. "I'm... sorry. I... never... meant... it... to... happen." Mac stopped suddenly and laughed. He sunk against Vic, his head resting on the other man's shoulder. He was exhausted, ashamed and half-sick. Vic embraced him immediately. "Ivy was right about one thing." He raised his head and pushed himself away from Vic. "I'm not buying that crap anymore." "It's the truth," Vic's tone increased with protest as Mac turned and walked towards the bed. "I never went to him. I never once thought about being with him, things just happened." Mac turned on him. "Did you ever once say no?" Vic didn't answer but looked away. Mac shook his head. "I didn't think so." He crawled onto the bed and propped himself against the headboard. "Isn't your wife waiting for you?" he asked once he was settled. He regretted the words the moment they came out. He needed to coax Vic, play him, and not provoke him. His timing was shot and his game non-existent. Only Victor Mansfield could make him act like such an amateur. He had to get control of himself, Vic, and the situation. The stakes were just too high to blow it. Vic closed his eyes for a moment as an angry grimace tightened his jaw. "You still haven't answered my question." He stepped beside the bed. "I deserve that much." Mac's laugh was almost a sob. "Don't get me started on what you deserve." "This is your chance, Mac. This is your chance to tell me why I'm never enough for you." Vic sat down on the bed facing Mac. The incredible pain of how wrong Vic was rocketed through Mac. "You don't understand at all. You're the one who had an affair with Elliot. That puts me in the not enough for you category." "Yeah and I'm the one you're always trying to change. Tonight, some muscle bound jerk offers his ass and you forget my name." Mac leaned forward and pounded the mattress between them. "You forgot me this afternoon. You walked away from me like you always do. I spend half my life running after you, like a fool. Tonight, I ran the other way." Vic dipped his head at the angry words. "So, you did this to hurt me." He looked up when the answer was silence. "That's what I thought. Congratulations, you did one hell of a job." He began to rise but Mac caught his wrist. He'd gone too far again, but the frustration was too overwhelming to control. He jumped to his knees and grabbed Vic's face with his hands. "It doesn't matter! Can't you understand that? What I did... It doesn't... he doesn't ... I didn't... I didn't mean...I... ." "I thought 'I didn't mean to' wasn't an option anymore." Vic interrupted. "Or is that rule just for me?" Mac exhaled a sigh that pulled all the energy from him. There was no winning here. His hands dropped to cover Vic's. He trailed his fingers over the back of Vic's hands. A horrible longing grew in him as he tried to drag the act out for fear that he'd never be allowed to do it again. "It didn't mean anything." He sank onto the pillows and felt helpless as he realized all he had to fall back on was the truth. "Why?" Vic shook his head and looked away for a moment. "Just tell me why you did it." Explanations ricocheted in his mind but he was afraid that whatever one he chose would make Vic leave. "You wouldn't believe me." "I believed in... I believed you, until tonight." Mac hesitated, searching for the perfect words. There had to be a way to explain about the lonely pain that had sent him off to have sex with a stranger. "I need you to tell me, Mac. Tell me something, damn it!" Vic smacked his own leg with a closed fist. Vic's renewed anger sent a feeling of injustice coursing through Mac. "You made me feel like shit this afternoon," he said as he sat forward. "You do it all the time and don't think anything of it. There are consequences to how you treat me. I fucked that guy... I fucked that guy on film, because it made me feel important. It's the only cure I know for how you make me feel." "This is what I mean. It's not enough that you can make me say 'I love you' any time, any place. Admit it! Vic Mansfield just isn't enough for you. Now you have to act like a porn star to feel important?" "It's what I know." Vic looked away. His lips pursed in that all too familiar way that meant he was trying to control his temper. "What the hell does that mean?" The rising inflection told he wasn't succeeding. "I didn't grow up in the suburbs and go to Catholic school like you. I didn't run away from home because my Dad wouldn't let me have the car every Saturday." Vic caught his hand and jerked him forward. They nearly bumped foreheads and his breath came hot and fast on Mac's cheek. "Just because you're afraid to tell me why you did it, don't make a joke out of what I went through as a teenager. I told you things that I've never told anyone. You make me regret it and we'll both be sorry." Mac jerked away. "You won't understand." "Not if you don't tell me." "You can't understand!" He shot a challenging look at Vic but after a moment his gaze dropped. "You left your family. They didn't leave you." "Your father abandoned you. I know about... ." "My mother died a month later. I always thought my dad left because she was sick." He gave a quick confirming nod. "I still think that was the reason. I was nearly thirteen when I walked out of the hospital with the seventy-five Pounds I found in her purse and a few stolen credit cards left over from my dad's last scam. I couldn't go back to our apartment because we were being evicted when I had to take her to the hospital. I'd been on the game with my dad since I was old enough to talk. I had some ideas that I thought could keep me going." He looked up suddenly as he felt Vic's hand cover his. Vic wasn't angry anymore. His face was filled with compassion, and Mac wanted to lean closer and feel the comforting warmth of him as he was wrapped in Vic's arms. Instead, he cleared his throat and looked away as he continued. "I lasted maybe ten months before I lucked into the Tang family. A lot of that time was spent on the street, looking for a place to crash, looking for food. But towards the end I stumbled onto a situation that would have become my life if the Godfather hadn't adopted me." He looked up at Vic and wondered if he would still be able to meet his gaze after he knew the truth. "I started hanging around the Tong Xing district." "The what district?" "Tong Xing. The gay district." It surprised him how hard it was to say the words to Vic, after all the years that distanced him from that life, and after all the things he and Vic had done together. Mac still felt like he'd just outed himself to a straight friend. "I was always tall for my age so I could pass for a young looking seventeen or eighteen. A lot of guys wanted to take me home but I got food or drinks first and had some excuse why I couldn't leave. One of the club owners picked up on it, and he told me he'd give me money and one meal a day to perform." Mac laughed softly. "I wasn't sure what he wanted, but I figured I could get a few meals out of it before he made demands." "So, you were in the same situation as LiAnn?" Vic squeezed his hand. "Prostitution? Not exactly. The guy, Mr. Chang, was pretty sharp when it came to promoting his club. He saw how I attracted his customers. He brought in a pro to teach me to strip. He put me on stage and I did two shows a night. He made certain that there was absolutely no chance that anyone could have sex with me. I was unattainable and the customers just kept coming, in more ways than one. And that's why I did it." He looked at Vic and hoped he had the words to make him understand how it felt. "I was just a kid who woke up in the morning and didn't know where I would be sleeping that night. I scrounged for food and stole what I couldn't afford to buy. But when I got on that stage I was the most important guy on earth. It made me feel so... powerful... to have all these men watch me. Some were rich, some were well known and some were so gorgeous that, offstage, I was afraid to talk to them. And they were all there to watch me. When I was up in that spotlight I didn't have any problems. It was such a complete rush to be the center of attention, and know everybody wanted me." Vic looked away but his hand was still warm and firm over Mac's. "That's why I did the film. I wanted to feel good. I knew that if I performed I could make everything else go away." Vic spoke without looking up. "You're right. I can't understand." Mac thought the oxygen had been sucked from the room. He had bared his soul in another useless attempt to run after Vic. This time he hadn't just fallen on his face; he'd been flung off a cliff. A million scenarios played out at light speed in his mind. He could try to talk himself back into Vic's good graces. He'd done it before. He could offer him sex; try to top the tricks Elliot must use. But the questions quickly replaced any answers he might have. If this were really the end of them, would Vic still want to be his partner? Would the Director trust two ex-lovers to be a successful team? And when it came down to it, could he accept the crumbs of Vic being only his partner when he wanted him to be his lover, to be his reality? He didn't know he'd lowered his head until he felt Vic's palm gently cradle his cheek and raise his head to look at him. "I can't understand because I never went through anything that difficult. I can't understand why you'd need to perform acts like that in order to feel valuable. Especially since everyone knows how damn incredible you are." Vic's hand moved to the back of his head and pulled him in close. They stayed together, Mac wrapping his arms around Vic and holding him tight. Vic's words were little more than a whisper against Mac's neck. "That whole scene must have been so scary and confusing for you. You were just a kid, a straight kid, surrounded by this life you didn't get." Mac cringed when he heard straight kid. Vic said he couldn't understand. But he'd also said he couldn't understand if Mac didn't tell him. Mac pushed away a little and studied Vic. He wore a comforting smile as his hand came up, again, to cradle Mac's cheek. God, he didn't want to lose this, but tonight proved how easily it could slip away if the two of them kept secrets from each other. There was nothing left to lose, Mac thought, except for the lies. "I didn't have any trouble getting it." Vic looked puzzled. "I was never a straight kid. I went to the Tong Xing District because I felt comfortable there." His throat was suddenly tight and dry. "I'm gay. I always have been." He saw the denial form immediately in the frown that creased Vic's brow. "But you and LiAnn... ?" "I got into another sort of life. I did what a lot of guys do when what they want in bed is a liability. I tried to fix it. I love LiAnn and we have so much in common. It was easy to be around her. I learned that if you show a woman enough attention they really don't care about the quality of the sex." He raised his eyebrows, "And she sure as hell didn't care about the quantity. So, I figured, I have LiAnn, and if I can make it work with her, then no problem." "You never had sex with a man before me?" Mac started to laugh but choked it off when he saw the look on Vic's face. "In a crime family the men have wives and they have girlfriends. LiAnn and I weren't married but you could say she was my wife. I never had a girlfriend, and I got kidded a lot about being whipped. But they never knew that I had the occasional encounter with a boyfriend. It was always something anonymous and stealthy. I couldn't afford to be found out. My position with the Tang family was more important to me than anything." Vic started to speak a couple of times, his lips forming words in that soundless, uneasy way that usually made Mac start to laugh and tease, sound it out, man. This time, he was too fearful of what those words would be, what sort of world shattering power they might contain. He hoped they would never come out. "I... . I never thought... ." Vic swallowed and looked around him as if he could find what he wanted to say written on the wall somewhere. "I thought you were ... like me," he finally managed. "I thought this was new for you, too." If he wanted to hurt Vic, exact a revenge that might actually be satisfying, this was the time. Just a few details from one of his old encounters would leave Vic bleeding. Vic might have been a tough street cop in his previous life, but in the one he shared with him he was the most vulnerable person Mac knew. It would be so easy and so deserved to leave him with a few raw wounds. As soon as the thought formed he discarded it. Things were too out of balance already. Vic had beaten him for months with the enormity of his affair with Elliot, the potential that he could leave him. Mac knew he was still standing. Vic had crumpled the moment he'd seen him with someone else. There was no contest here, no honor in defeating a man who had no defenses. Maybe that was the difference between them. He knew he would fight for Vic, but in the same circumstances Vic would fight him. Being in love was hard, but being in love with Victor Mansfield was a battle. So, Mac decided to tell Vic what was very nearly the truth. "I didn't have a whole lot more experience than you did when we hooked up." Vic's eyes widened with disbelief. "You acted like you were always cruising chicks. I thought you were getting girls all the time. You were the one who went to all those strip clubs." Mac shrugged. "Like I said, it's what I know. I don't care who does it. The act is sexy. It's the first thing that ever turned me on when I was a kid. It turns me on to do it. It turns me on to watch it, whether it's a man or a woman." "Why didn't you ever tell me?" Vic asked after a long pause. Mac laughed. "Elliot calls you straight boy. I thought... . I knew you wouldn't want to have anything to do with a queer like me." "I don't think of you as... ." Vic hesitated and it was clear he couldn't say the word. "I don't think about us being gay." "I know." "I just think about how Mac Ramsey happened to me." A sudden current of anger shot through Mac. It amazed him how Vic could still deny what he was doing. "Yeah, I guess that's it. We're just two guys sitting around pulling each other's dicks while we wait for the right girl to come along. Oh, I'm wrong! That's just you now that I've made my confession. And it's not two guys it's three, but that's your other boyfriend, not mine. Is that some kind of new math, Vic? I'm gay but the straight boy has two boyfriends?" "Mac don't." "Don't what, Vic? Don't ask for my own explanation?" "He doesn't matter," Vic blurted out. "He mattered for the last eight months. Elliot figures he matters enough that he can have his own straight boy all to himself." "That's never going to happen." Vic edged towards him on the bed. His tone was flat and each word was an effort, a defeat. "I am really sorry, Mac." "Are you Vic?" The anger was still tingling through him. "Or are you just sorry I found out?" "I'm sorry. That's all I can say." He looked at the wall again and his eyes were glistening. "You deserve better than... better than me" Mac pounced to his knees again and grabbed Vic by the shoulders. "You idiot! There is no one better than you. When are you going to realize that? I want you, that prick Elliot obviously does, not to mention your lovely wife. LiAnn was engaged to you for Christ sake! She's the woman who told everyone she'd never get married. How many more people do you need before I'm enough?" His voice crescendoed. He fell silent as he realized it was the same question Vic had asked him. "I just need to be enough for you," he said quietly. Vic swiped at one eye with the back of his hand. "It's not you Mac, it's..." The anger exploded again. "Oh shit, don't you have any respect for me at all? You're not going to use that trite 'it's not you it's me' line?" "It is me!" His voice boomed out as Vic pounded a finger into his own chest. "LiAnn didn't marry me, did she? You came back and I didn't look so good anymore. Any other woman, who ever showed me any attention, was doing it so she could use me. The closest I ever came to a lover was Ivy, an informant. And I gave her money every time. There may have been something between us, but it was more business than love." "What happened to you with women has nothing to do with us." Mac tried to control the anger that still tinged his voice. Vic was close to a melt down and he didn't know if he had the strength left to deal with that. "It's why I did it." The fingers of one hand curled into a closed fist as Vic continued to hit his chest. "It's why I did things with Elliot." "Your history with women has nothing to do with Elliot." "I've seen women look at him. I've seen everyone look at him any time he walks into a room. But he only looks at me. You don't know what that means, Mac, because you're just like him. You've never smiled at a beautiful woman and had her walk past you. Because you, Mac, you're the one she's heading for in the first place." "They look at you, Vic. You just don't notice. It's only guys with brass balls like Elliot and me that take the chance to approach somebody as ... ." He traced his fingertips down Vic's cheek. "As perfect as you are." He could feel the heat rise under his fingers and an embarrassed smile spread across Vic's face as he pressed into Mac's hand. "You're both wrong," Vic whispered. "But the only reason I can give you is the same one you gave me. It made me feel important. That's my problem not yours." "Vic, when is it ever going to end? When will you believe that you're more than enough?" He leaned forward, his head on Mac's shoulder. "I don't know." Mac held him close and rested his cheek against Vic's hair. "I wanted to tell you how I felt today." Vic said. "I tried to explain to Ivy why we were together. In the middle of it I realized what I'd done to you this afternoon." He turned his head and looked up into Mac's face. "I wanted to tell you, because I know I don't show you what you mean to me. I wanted to talk, but you were already gone." He moved back into Mac's embrace, his face buried in his shoulder. "Why didn't you ever say anything about Elliot?" Mac hesitated. Part of him was reluctant to answer for the same reason he had never spoken about what he knew was happening between Vic and Elliot. "I couldn't. If I said something, put the words out there, gave it a name, it made it real. As long as no one said it out loud I still had my denial to hang on to." Vic looked at him once more. "Is that why you hardly ever say you love me?" "I show you how I feel all the time." "You almost never say the words. You make me say them." Exhaustion was wearing thin any resistance Mac had left. "You have too much power over me as it is." Vic sat up. He shook his head and gave a disbelieving laugh. "You're the one with the power. You could have destroyed me tonight." He stared for a moment and seemed to notice the dark bruising on Mac's neck for the first time. His fingers went gingerly to the marks he had left. "God, I hurt you!" The words were followed by an incredulous gasp. Mac winced at the contact, just beginning to acknowledge the ache that encircled his throat. Victor moved his hands away quickly, trailing them down Mac's arms, clutching and holding him as he went, then returning to his shoulders. "We need to get you a doctor... get you to a hospital." Mac shook his head. "It's just bruising. I've had worse. You didn't do any real damage." Mac reached out and ran his hand through Vic's hair. He looked so child-like in his concern, so frightened that he had done this to him. The unexpected touch of Vic's fingers on his bare skin through a hole torn in his shirt sent a shiver rattling through Mac. Vic covered the opening with the palm of his hand. "I tore your shirt." His eyes were large and full of regret as he took stock of what his attack had done. Mac was suddenly very aware of how pathetic he must look, torn, tacky velour top, vivid bruises circling his throat. Anger, from too many sources to name, snapped through him. He pushed Vic back and off the bed. "I'm... sorry,... Mac." Vic stammered as he stood up. "I'm sorry about the shirt." "I don't care about the damn shirt!" Mac knew it wasn't just about the shirt, but it seemed like the best target. He pulled the shirt over his head and grabbed at the tear and pulled. "I hate these damn clothes!" He tore the shirt up the front then ripped off a sleeve and threw it across the room. "I wouldn't be caught dead in this discount store trash." He tried to pull off the other sleeve but it wouldn't budge. His frustration erupted in a bellowing scream. "Mac! Mac, easy." Vic had hold of the garment and tried to take it out of his hands. The contact brought him back. "Whose idea was this anyway?" He threw the shirt at the mirror above the dresser. "I'd like to get my hands on the idiot who decided to put me in this crap and put you in a tailored shirt." Vic smiled and ran his hand over Mac's bare shoulder. "Yeah, is there anything right with that idea?" "No. Absolutely nothing," Mac agreed. Vic's hands continued down his arms and gripped his hands. He moved them to the front of his own shirt. "Unbutton this for me?" Vic asked in a husky whisper. "Why?" Mac countered as he undid the first button. "You give your dresser the night off?" The anger was leaving and a tingle of excitement appeared in its wake. "You do a better job," Vic told him as the last button slid through the hand-stitched buttonhole. He took his shirt off and gently slipped it over Mac's shoulders. "Put your arms in." The touch of the finely woven fabric, radiating Vic's heat, was deliciously sensuous against his skin. Mac rolled his shoulders to feel the cloth play over his back, then slid his arms into the sleeves. "Thanks," he said, his eyes closed. "This is nice." He turned the collar up and rubbed it against his cheek. "It smells like you. I like that." Vic had always smelled like purity and virtue to him. There had been a Jesuit boy's orphanage on the edge of the Tong Xing district. Mac had begged meals there during part of his life on the streets of Hong Kong. The priests all seemed brilliant and inhumanly kind to him and far too handsome to be celibate. They'd always try to help him but he would disappear before they could. They smelled of clean clothes and freshly washed skin, with the faintest hint of some exotic incense. That's what good people, people who cared about you, smelt like. That's what Vic always smelled like. Vic's hands went inside the shirt and Mac felt himself drawn against him. Vic moved his body slowly over Mac's, letting the thick growth of hair on Mac's chest tickle over his bare skin. Mac enhanced the sensation by trailing his fingers lightly up and down Vic's back till he wiggled against him. Mac smiled. "This is what I like." "I know." Vic continued the slow dance against him. "And I know I don't give you this often enough." Mac's hands came forward and his fingers opened Vic's expensive leather belt. "I like to make love, not compete with you." Mac said, and then ran his tongue lightly over the tip of Vic's ear. Vic jerked away. Not again? He didn't have the strength for another round of fighting. He knew Vic was sensitive about what he thought of their extreme sex games. He wasn't even thinking of that now. He just wanted to tell him that he craved this kind of affection. What did he expect? Vic could go from loving to outraged in the blink of an eye. Vic's hand covered his ear. He dipped his head in an embarrassed nod. "Sorry, but you nailed me pretty good. It's too sore to touch." A relieved laugh bubbled out of Mac. "Is that all? I thought you were pissed at me again." Vic tilted his head. "I'm always going to be pissed at you again, Mac. You just do that to me." "Yeah," Mac trailed his hand down Vic's chest. "You do that to me, too." Vic smiled. "We have to stay together. Who else could put up with either of us?" "Speaking of getting up ... ." Mac grabbed Vic's belt and tugged him closer. "I said putting up," Vic told him and laughed. Mac rubbed the growing bulge in the front of Vic's pants. "Don't rush the foreplay, stud. We'll put it up in a while." Vic's hands glided over the thin leather of Mac's pants leaving charges of sensation wherever he touched. He stopped for a moment over his hips then slipped his hands into Mac's pockets. Mac jerked at the exploration. "Vic, don't! That tickles too much." A breathy laugh accompanied the last words. "What have you got in here?" Mac pulled his hands away. "I said, don't." "What's in your pocket?" "Condoms and lube. They had boxes of them at the studio." Mac pulled small tubes and brightly colored plastic squares from his pockets and tossed them on the bed. "If somebody had put me in a pair of pants with decent pockets I could have scored a lot more." "I like these pants." Vic grabbed Mac's ass with both hands and pulled him forward. He ground against him for a moment, and then moved back enough to get his hand between them. His fingers traced over the taut leather that outlined Mac's erection. "You can't hide anything in these." "You like what you do to me?" Mac rocked against Vic's hand. Vic's own cock jumped where it was pressed against Mac's leg. Mac knew Vic's little kinks. On the top of that list was Mac acknowledging how much Vic aroused him. Vic loved the power it gave him. "Why don't you show me what I did? Take these off." He squeezed Mac's ass with the hand that remained there. "I don't know if I can," Mac teased back. "They're so tight and you've got me too hard." Vic gave a sly laugh and moved his fingers slowly up Mac's shaft. The thin leather was like lube enhancing the sensation until it was nearly unbearable. Mac chewed at his lip to keep a moan from escaping, but despite his best efforts a tremor moved his hips as Vic neared the head of his cock. "Feels like you're in real trouble here." "You better help me," Mac told him. "I wouldn't know what to do." Vic started a lazy, zigzag over the stretched leather covering Mac's balls. His mouth found Mac's. The kiss was a mixture of need and teasing. His lips brushed gently over Mac's, setting off a storm of sensation. Mac tried to increase the passion, but Vic pulled back, gingerly kissing only the corners of his mouth. His tongue darted along Mac's lower lip, just under the edge, changing his arousal into torment. Vic stepped away suddenly. Mac touched a finger to his swollen lips trying to rid himself of the excitement that still tingled there. Vic toed off his shoes and slipped out of his socks. He dropped his pants and stepped out of them, leaving them where they lay. He pushed the white cotton briefs down and tossed them onto the pants with his foot. His hand went immediately to his swollen cock. He held it for a moment as if there were no other choice. He smiled at Mac. "Take off your pants." His voice was in that throaty dark register that drove Mac insane. Mac swallowed. "I told you," he rubbed his fingers along the bulge in his pants, "a little help here?" Vic moved to him and slipped his hands inside the shirt. His fingers moved in a gentle massage over Mac's heated skin. "I'd help you but I'm not the expert. Show me Mac." He whispered the words, smoky with desire, next to Mac's ear. "Show me how you do it." Mac wasn't certain that he was hearing this right. "Be that unattainable boy, for me." Vic's fingers dug into his back. "Make me want you even more. Make me ache because I can't touch you." The realization of what Vic wanted bolted through him. Mac stepped back, but then leaned in as if to kiss Vic. The other man's mouth was open and ready when Mac said, "Get on the bed." Then he turned away from Vic. He stood by the dresser. He was throbbing from the idea that he could do this for Vic, to him. He had never done this without music, but he'd seen a woman in Hong Kong do an act that was ferociously sexy and accompanied only by the panting of her audience. He wished now that he'd worn underwear; there would be that much more to take off. But this show wouldn't be about revealing flesh. Vic knew every inch of him already. This would be purely about sex and unfulfilled arousal. Mac's own erection jumped in the confines of his pants. He'd have to be careful. This was going to be as big a turn on for him as it would be for Vic. He reached down and quickly pulled off his shoes and socks. He didn't want to fight with those at the end. He turned around and Vic was propped against the headboard, cradling his dusky erection in one hand. The anticipation on his face was clear. Shyness disappeared from him when he was flushed with the heat of lust. He stared at Mac, unblinking. A smile that said he wanted and needed him played on his lips. Mac smiled back and started to take off the linen shirt. But he stopped and only exposed more of his chest. He ran his hands over his body till he found his rhythm. He turned the exploration into a sensuous dance intended to arouse both of them. He wet his fingers with long slow descents into his mouth, mimicking a blowjob. He touched his nipples and used the glistening salvia to lubricate as he let his fingertips glide over them while he writhed at the sensation. It was a long time before the shirt was discarded altogether. He showed Vic many moments of raw sex counterpointed with delicate titillation. He paced himself and kept an eye on Vic to see how much was too much. When Vic seemed to caress himself too often Mac stopped. He stood with eyes closed for a moment, then raised his arms and danced easily to some inner music. When he opened his eyes Vic was watching him, flushed and on the verge, but still not satisfied. Taking the pants off was its own show. He played with himself until he was afraid he'd gone too far as he unzipped barely one tooth of the zipper at a time. He opened his pants just enough to allow the head of his cock to peek out. He writhed and moaned as he lightly circled the sensitive tissue. Vic was holding himself by the base, like a cock ring. Mac backed off, closing the pants and threatening to zip them again. He laughed at the disappointment on Vic's face. He pulled them open a little and ran his hands down his legs. It took him a long torturous time to peel off the supple leather. He exposed himself and covered the prize many times. He turned and showed off his ass, running his hands over its curves as he watched Vic's reaction in the mirror on the wall. Finally, the pants were discarded after taking them off and pulling them back and forth between his legs in a raw, teasing exhibition. Mac looked at his audience. Vic's arousal mirrored his own. They were both panting, their cocks weeping with need. This should have been the finale, but Mac was enjoying the performance too much to stop. His hand strayed to his groin. There was a small gasp from Vic. "If I do it just right," Mac said, as he began to trace a line across the triangle of his pubes, "I can make the man twitch." "Let me." Vic was sitting forward on the bed ready to stand. "You're not supposed to touch the performer. Oh," Mac moaned. "I almost had it." He and Vic found out one night, as they played with each other, how ticklish they both were at the Y of their legs. But they'd gone on to discover that if the tickle was more like a caress, Mac's cock would pulse and twitch if the right spot was played. The pleasure was intense and Vic had gotten him off once just by teasing him there. But the sweet thing was the knowledge that Vic had gotten off more than once as he did it to Mac. "Uh!" The sound bucked out of him as his cock jumped. He'd found a spot and pulsing pleasure kept beat to the caress of his fingertips. Mac closed his eyes as the sensation charged through him. He heard the bedspring squeak but didn't bother to open his eyes. His fingers were brushed aside and Vic's lips, gently suckling at the spot, created the same nerve rattling sensation. Mac threaded his fingers through Vic's soft hair. He gasped as the feeling stopped. In one fluid motion Vic stood and pushed Mac towards the bed. He resisted for a moment, but Vic was strong and insistent. He found himself face down on the bed with the warmth of Vic's body covering his. "Let me," he whispered. "I need you. Let me do it, Mac" Mac heard the sound of Vic's hand scrambling over the bedspread, retrieving a condom and lube from the ones Mac had spilled from his pocket. Vic kissed his back, licking and nipping at his skin. Mac felt the hardness of Vic's hot erection as he pumped against his leg. "I need you, Mac," he pleaded between kisses. "I never did this with him. I never did this with anybody but you. This is just for you and me." The words were like magic. This was what he needed to make everything all right. Vic had kept that part of himself from Elliot. Vic was still his virgin. Mac raised himself up on his hands and knees. In a second he felt Vic's fingers, cool and slick with lube, slip inside him. It only took a few moments to prepare him. Vic wasn't being hesitant tonight like he usually was. His hands were powerful and moved with urgency. He mounted him swiftly with none of the usual questions about how did it feel, or was he hurting him. They both knew tonight they had fought past the pain. Vic thrust quickly into him, setting off shreds of sparkling sensation as he hit that miraculous spot. Then, he slowed and Mac braced himself as Vic leaned his weight along his back. "Ahhh." He gasped and arched when Vic spidered his fingers along his groin. "Too much?" Vic asked and stopped immediately. "Yeah," Mac managed and was surprised that his own voice was as husky with need as Vic's. "Just stroke me." "Mmmmm." Vic started a low growl in the back of his throat that very nearly made Mac come even before the strong fingers wrapped around his cock. Vic moved again, a slow but demanding rhythm that matched the work his hand was doing. Mac tried to hold on, to make this perfect moment of pleasure and lust last forever. "Say it." Vic peppered kisses on Mac's shoulder. "Tell me." Mac would tell him anything. He wanted to tell him everything. "Say the words. Make it real." This was the only reality Mac ever wanted. Vic's hand tightened, the thrusting increased and a tattoo of sensation was beaten non-stop from inside him. "Make it real." Vic repeated over and over as he built to his own climax. The words came with a crash of bliss. They spilled out in Cantonese, then French and finally English. A wave of transcendent pleasure swept through Mac and carried his true feelings from the depths where he had hidden them and made them real. "I love you." He panted as the last shreds of his orgasm spasmed from his body. Vic pressed his lips to Mac's ear. "It's only you, Mac. Only you and me." Part Nine Elliot sat on the bed in the darkened room and wondered how he had come to be this. "Mac, this doesn't matter." Vic's words burned through him. He had pointed at him. Then his hand had swiped through the air dismissing him as something disposable in Vic's life. "Mac, this doesn't matter." He knew he was only second place to Mac. He had only kidded himself that it would be any other way. He never imagined, though, how it would cut when said aloud. "Mac, this doesn't matter." Vic couldn't say his name, or even use a distancing pronoun. This, this thing I let blow me because he worked so hard to seduce me. There was a fine line between seduction and begging. Elliot had moments of doubt after hard won, hurried trysts with Vic when he wondered if he'd crossed that line. But he was Victor Mansfield -—that had always been his comforting answer. Whatever he had to do for Vic was worth it. Now, he admitted, he was just this to Vic. Not even worth the trouble to call by name. Elliot jumped as a muffled voice sounded from the next room. The last half-hour had been couched in profound silence shattered by unintelligible shouts as Mac and Vic continued to fight. He looked over at Jason Tell. The noise didn't wake him. He was sleeping peacefully now, on his side. He clutched the blanket that Elliot had covered him with close to his chest. His face was bathed in a soft glow from the bathroom light that Elliot had forgotten to turn off. There was something so appealing about his face even in sleep, that Elliot found himself studying the contours for an answer and a distraction. He remembered an article he'd read in a psychology journal while in college about babies reacting with dilated pupils when shown pictures of deformed human faces. Elliot always wondered if the reverse were true as well. What was it about that perfect face that elicited the "awe" factor? Were humans, through eons of evolution, as predisposed to recognize and react to beauty as they were to deformity? What was it about this guy? Maybe it was the large eyes that had a seasoned wonder in them. Elliot was a master of interpreting and feigning facial expressions. People display interest by widening their eyes as they listen. Maybe this guy with the baby wide eyes gave off that interest vibe whether he felt it or not. Jason stirred slightly and licked his lips before his breathing deepened and he was asleep again. Pretty mouth -—that was something that always drew Elliot. He liked a nice, defined shape and a little fullness that hinted at hidden sensuality. That described Jason; it described Vic even more. "Sorry, Cutie," he whispered to the sleeping man. "I just reduced you to a type. This has the balls to stereotype you." The laugh from the next room and the answering, lower-pitched chuckle rattled him out of his musings. There was no scorn in that laugh as he'd heard earlier. The sound was throaty and sensual even though muted by the hotel walls. It was over. Vic and Mac had come together again. It was inevitable, just as they were inevitability meant for each other, but Elliot had been fool enough to hope. Vic actually thought it was easy for him. That stung more than anything, the realization that Vic never knew how hard he was trying. Mac had said that his biggest problem was coming up with another smart-ass remark. There were no clever words he could use to make this pain go away. He should go in now that it was over, for all of them, and break it up. He should make Vic go upstairs to his partner of the moment, Ivy, and get the assignment back on track. Elliot told himself that he would do this, promised himself that it would happen. In a minute, in just a minute after the lethargy left his arms and legs, and after the dread of seeing them in each other's embrace passed. In a minute he thought as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Goodbye, Victor." Elliot hurried down the long stark corridors of the Agency. He had seen Vic round the corner ahead of him. He was certain it was Vic. No one looked like Vic. No one else carried off the paradox that was Vic. He wore the trappings of a dark sexuality -—leather jacket and well-worn, tight jeans -—like a second skin, and yet he had that inviting smile and was open and vulnerable. Elliot broke into a jog and turned the corner where Vic had gone. He saw him up ahead. Elliot was certain that if he knew he was here he would want to talk with him, joke around, and maybe go somewhere that they could be alone. He just had to let him know he was here. Victor stopped and pushed the button for the elevator that lead to the garage. Elliot tried to hurry, but his legs were leaden and it felt like he was running in molasses. This was bad. Vic was leaving. But it could be good. They could go somewhere together. Elliot could take him to dinner, or make him dinner or just make out with him on the bench seat of his truck. "Vic," he called out, but it was little more than a squeak. "Vic." He tried again, but his throat was tight and dry. He looked around for the water fountain. There was a water fountain in each hallway. He'd seen them a million times and always wondered the same thing. "Who the hell would drink out of those things? You might as well lap it up from the toilet." Where was the damn thing? He looked around the hall and saw just the corner of the stainless steel pedestal peeking out from behind a pillar. "Vic." He called once more but his voice had even less volume than before. Vic was standing by the elevator, his hands stuck in his jeans pockets, and he rocked slightly on his heels as he waited. Elliot looked back at the water fountain. He'd take a drink to clear his throat, and then let Vic know he was here. That would stop him from taking the elevator when it did arrive. He stepped over to the stainless steel basin and bent towards the spout. He pushed the button and a trickle of water gurgled from the tube. He stabbed at the button several times but the flow wouldn't increase. He'd have to put his mouth on the metal in order to get any water. He looked closely at the spout and it appeared to be coated with faint rings of dried milk and something pink that could be lipstick. How many mouths had been on this thing, he wondered with a shudder? Maybe he could spill some water onto his palm and slurp it up from there? But with the minimum trickle of liquid what ever he managed to gather would have to run through the crud encasing the spout. "Excuse me?" Elliot turned, ready to shout, 'I'm trying to figure something out here. I don't have any time to waste, go away.' Jason Tell was standing in front of him. He was dressed in khakis and a brown and cream pinstriped polo shirt. His short sandy blond hair was parted on the side and brushed flat. He reminded Elliot of a buffed little boy ready for the first day of school. "I'm here for the interview." He raised a notebook he carried in his hand as if it were a passport. Elliot shrugged. "You don't know about the interview? I thought you knew everything?" "You've mistaken me for someone else. Like someone who gives a damn." Jason laughed. "You're funny." He'd heard that before. He'd heard that from Vic at the rare moments when they were affectionate and he'd expected to hear I love you. "Yeah. I get that a lot." He looked back over his shoulder at Vic who was still waiting for the elevator, oblivious to their conversation. "Do you know where the conference room is located?" Jason held up his notebook again. There was an agency pass and an appointment card attached to it now. "I'm supposed to meet someone named Diane in the conference room." "It's down there." Elliot pointed towards a darkened side corridor. "Are you here for the interview, too?" "No." Elliot looked at Vic and then at the water fountain. Vic wasn't going to be waiting forever. He had to get his attention. "Then why are you here?" "I'm trying to catch up with a friend." Elliot bristled at the question, but thought if he answered, Jason might leave. "I'm trying to get his attention, but my throat is too dry. He can't hear me." "Your voice sounds fine to me." Elliot realized that he had been talking in a perfectly normal tone. His throat felt fine. He smiled and turned away from Jason. "Vic! Vic wait." The words came out as little more than a whisper. No matter how he strained the sound was faint and barely audible. "See what I mean," he said in a perfectly clear voice as he turned back to Jason. Jason shrugged. "You can talk to me." Elliot shook his head. "I can't get him to notice me." "Why do you need him to notice you?" "He's Victor Mansfield." Elliot pointed at him. "Everyone knows that." "What happens when he notices you? Does that make you Victor Mansfield?" "No." Elliot hesitated. He wasn't really certain what would happen when Victor paid attention to him. "That would make me... well... his friend." "And that makes you almost as important as he is?" "Look, all I know is, if he knew I was here he'd want to be with me." "What are you prepared to do to make him notice you?" "Anything." The word rang from Elliot's lips. There was a sweet, pure satisfaction from announcing this that was better than any drug. His commitment and devotion were complete. If only he could make Vic see this, there would be no question that they would be together. If only he could make Vic notice him. His dedication didn't seem to impress Jason. "I have my own stuff to do. Why don't you come to the interview with me? There might be some questions you want to ask me, or yourself." "I don't have time. I have to find some water." Jason shrugged off a gray backpack that Elliot hadn't noticed. He fished around in the sack and then drew out a plastic water bottle. He held it out to Elliot. "I have what you need." He smiled a sweet guileless smile that made Elliot want to take his face in his hands and cover it with kisses. The elevator hissed open behind him. He grabbed the water bottle and spun around. The doors were already parted and Mac Ramsey sauntered out. He hooked Vic by the back of the neck. They stared into each other's eyes. Elliot took a long pull from the water bottle. By the time he was through, Mac had already pulled Vic into the elevator. They were kissing and petting, pressed against the back wall. "Vic!" Elliot called, and his voice boomed out along the empty corridor. Both men in the elevator jumped at the sound. "Vic!" Elliot called again. Mac looked past Vic, his face scrunched into a frown at the interruption. "What's that?" Vic looked back. He looked directly at Elliot. His gaze burned into him. The scorn and disdain in his eyes scorched to Elliot's soul. Vic waved a hand dismissively. "Mac, this doesn't matter." Elliot awoke with a start. Jason was still asleep. The room was silent and the clock on the table between the beds glowed 3:00 am. Elliot strained to hear any sounds coming from the room next door, but was met with a disheartening silence. There was no point sitting here. It wouldn't change anything, and he had so much to undo once everyone was awake. Shake it off, he told himself as he moved to the edge of the bed and sat up. When he finally arose to take a shower it was three forty-five. He stood in the shower for a long time, hoping the water would wash away what had happened. As he dried himself off he knew that nothing was going to make things any easier. This had become a recovery operation. The vivid scenes from his dream swam into his consciousness. The image of Jason's invitation to go to the interview played and replayed in his mind. He should have taken him up on it. Now that he was awake there were a lot of things he wanted to ask himself. Elliot dressed and left Jason to sleep. It was a little after five and he knew one of the restaurants in the hotel would be open for breakfast. He'd get some coffee to kick start himself, and something bland for Jason. Whatever drugs Jason had been given, Elliot was certain he'd wake up nauseous. He hoped some food would correct that. He walked into the nearly empty restaurant. He was buzzy from an overdose of adrenaline from too little sleep and too much emotion. He ordered a double shot latte when he sat down, hoping the caffeine would push his energy passed nervous to a level that would allow him to fully function. When the coffee arrived he gulped down a mouthful, and wished there was something stronger in it. Elliot took out a palm pad and made notes for a plan to fix the mess they'd made of this assignment. His plan was tenuous and depended on three wildly unstable variables. He had to make Mac and Vic do exactly what he wanted. That was iffy at best, and after last night would probably constitute a bona fide miracle if he could make it happen. Saint Elliot. It was a little late to impress ex-alter boy Vic with that. Although, there was a time when Vic would have been tempted into a kinky game by the idea. The sinner and the saint would appeal to the religious/erotic bent that Vic tried to keep a secret. "Focus, you fucking moron!" he chided under his breath. The other two elements were even harder to predict, because they both involved the Director. He might be able to pull things together if she didn't know about the fight, the disregard for their cover and the total screeching halt the assignment had come to. There was a chance she was busy with something else and had not been monitoring their assignment that closely. And there was a chance that trickle down economics might really work. Elliot gave a scornful chuckle and took another swallow of coffee. Since it was unlikely she was ignoring her prize team, the recovery operation really depended on her letting them slog their way through. Elliot had some hope that this would happen. She'd always had faith in his abilities. She'd created Section Six as a place for him to function within the agency. Besides, the idea must appeal to her sadist queen bee heart. She always loved to see her little drones scramble to repair the hive. "Toast?" "I am totally toast," Elliot confirmed. "I forgot to ask you what kind of toast you want," the waitress said. "Oh. Ah, whole wheat." Elliot managed to get back into his room while carrying a carafe of hot water, tea bags, cups, two cartons of milk and three Styrofoam containers filled with uncomfortably hot poached eggs, hash browns and toast. He sat them on the dresser and pulled the plastic utensils and napkins from his suit's pockets. The bathroom door clicked open. The moist smell of steam and soap wafted into the room. Jason Tell appeared in the doorway wearing a white bath towel wrapped around his waist. He leaned against the doorframe. His arms raised, he rested his head against the casing and smiled wearily. "Hi." "Hi," Elliot answered and his voice sounded as unsteady to him as it had in his dream. He couldn't take his gaze off Jason. If Elliot was watching a porn film this would be the moment when he unzipped his pants. Jason was posed in the most erotic stance, yet it appeared so unintended. This was just another part of the unreasonable appeal this guy held. He was so intensely sexy, but seemed unaware of it. Wasn't that the definition of Vic Mansfield, as well? The thought made him look away. "I brought some breakfast. I thought you might want to get something in your stomach." He turned and smiled but tried to look past Jason. "So, how are you feeling?" Jason sighed. "I shouldn't have taken such a hot shower. I'm pretty wasted." "I don't think it was the shower." Jason lowered his arms and took a hesitant step towards Elliot. "I don't want you to think I do that all the time -—the drugs or the sex." His voice trailed off and he lowered his head. "I got the impression that you couldn't do one without the other." Elliot turned to pick up a cup and fill it with hot water. "I don't want you to think that I was behind what happened. I had the bad judgment to trust Mac's worst judgment." He unwrapped a tea bag and dropped it into the steaming water. "Mac never talked to me. I said he did to be supportive. I didn't know at the time what was going to happen or I would have never agreed." He handed the cup to Jason. The other man took it and looked at it for a long moment. When he raised his head his eyes glistened with unshed tears. "You brought me tea. You remembered I drink tea." His voice broke on the last word, and his free hand came up to cover his eyes. Elliot wrapped an arm around Jason's shoulder and turned him towards the bed. "Come on, sit down for a minute." It didn't take much effort to get him perched on the edge of the bed. After a couple of silent sobs he relaxed. "You must think I'm a real loser," Jason said as he sniffed. "I think you're someone who's in trouble." "Yeah." He turned and smiled faintly. "I'd be in a whole hell of a lot more trouble if you hadn't bailed me out last night. Thanks. I mean that." He leaned in close to Elliot. "Thank you for taking care of me," he whispered before their lips met. The sensation rattled Elliot. He knew what was going to happen, he had even wanted it as the handsome face turned towards him. He wasn't prepared, however, for the heady pleasure that was ignited by the kiss. Long before he wanted to, Elliot broke it off. "I need to thank you." Jason said, as he moved closer again. Elliot stopped him. "You don't have to thank me like that." Jason looked surprised. "Don't you want me?" "It's not about that. I don't want to be just one more bastard who uses you." "I'm offering. I owe you so... ." "You don't owe me anything, especially yourself. I'm not into sex as payment, and you shouldn't be either." Jason gave a bitter laugh and looked at his tea. "Sometimes you have no choice," he said, and took a sip. "You want to talk about it? Maybe I can help you, Jason." "Nobody can help me," he said, and studied the cup in his hands. Elliot knew all the tricks to get Jason to trust him, but he held back. His primary purpose for bringing the man back last night was to use him to get to DelMar, at least that was what he kept telling himself. Each time he was given an opening to draw Jason in, Elliot shied away. As Jason bowed his head a little more, Elliot had to face the truth. He wanted to help him. He wanted one life that he touched to be saved instead of ruined. He put his hand on the back of Jason's neck and scratched his fingertips over the thick short hair. "I can help you Jason. I don't know what... ." Jason pushed out of his grasp and sat on the bed opposite him. "You can't help me! No one can." "Jason, give me a chance." "No. You don't know what this is about." "Then tell me. I can help you. I want to help you." Jason calmed a little. "I know you do. You shouldn't." He raised his hand when Elliot started to speak again. "It's too dangerous." Elliot was silent for a moment. What did he have left to lose? The assignment was damaged nearly beyond repair, and the Director had so many reasons to reprimand him he couldn't begin to list them all. What was one more mistake? He looked at Jason, who stared at the floor. The hand that held the cup trembled slightly. The guy was scared, and had plenty of reason to be. He had been given date rape drugs and treated like human chattel. Elliot knew there was no other choice but to help him, regardless of the consequences. Oh my God, he thought, Vic has turned me into a Boy Scout. "Jason I can help you." His voice rose as Jason shook his head no. "I'm not who you think I am. Robert DelMar is no match for me." Jason stood and paced the small confines of the room, shaking his head. "You might want to think that, but I know better." Elliot caught him in mid-transit. He grasped his shoulders and made the anxious man look at him. "Jason, tell me. Tell me what happened. Tell me what DelMar did to you." "If I tell you will you forget about helping me?" He didn't wait for an answer, but placed his hand on Elliot's chest. "I don't know why I like you so much. I liked you from the moment we met. I just don't want you to get hurt." Elliot covered Jason's hand with his own. "I told you, that won't happen." "You don't know what Bobby can do to people." "What did he do to you?" Jason looked away again. "I owe him money." "For what?" "I'm nearly thirty, a modeling career doesn't last that long. I tried to go back to school a couple of years ago, pre-law. I did really well, but I couldn't afford to go to school and not work. I borrowed the tuition from Bobby. After that first year... well... . I'll spend the rest of my life paying it back to him." "He's just a two-bit loan shark," Elliot said, tightening his grip on Jason's hand. "I can handle him." "No you can't. I had a friend -—we modeled together. He said all I had to do was leave. We went to Mexico. Bobby's thugs found us." Jason looked away. "They beat him so badly he's never been able to work since. He lives with his mother in Arizona. I send him money when I can." "What did they do to you?" Elliot asked again, dreading the answer he might hear. Jason winced, as if just the memory alone brought him pain. "They turned me over to a sadist. He videotaped everything he did to me. Bobby plays it at private parties. It's the reason I have to be wasted in order to be fucked." "Oh, Jason." Elliot moaned as he gathered the other man into his arms. As soon as they embraced, Jason pushed away. "I didn't tell you this so you'd feel sorry for me. I don't need pity. I need you to realize that you can't help me. You will not be safe." He beat out each word in the air with a closed fist. Then his head dropped sheepishly before he looked up. "And like I said, I like you. I want you to be around for a while. At least until we find out if you like me too." Elliot put one hand on Jason's shoulder. Goddamn Victor Mansfield and his lunatic desire to save the world. No one had warned Elliot that it was a contagious condition. "Sit down. I have to tell you the truth about myself. Then you'll know why we'll both be safe." Elliot eased the door open between the two rooms. His talk with Jason had provided a good alternate plan that he hoped would save all their asses. They needed a foolproof idea, or perhaps a foolish idea with potential since this assignment had produced a glut of fools. Either way, they needed to prepare since they had been summoned to the penthouse suite. "Live and learn, die and burn." The ironic snippet of fatalistic, medieval prayer, that Vic had once told him he'd learned in childhood, repeated in Elliot's mind. It could be the theme of this whole fiasco. The light still on by the dresser illuminated the room. Mac lay pressed against Vic, his head cradled on the other man's arm. The bruises on his neck were nearly black. The side of Vic's face was dusted with a purplish shadow that grew progressively darker until his ear was tipped with indigo. Elliot cleared his throat and Vic blinked, coming quickly awake. He took a deep breath and nodded at Elliot. Then he stretched as best he could in the confines of Mac's embrace. Mac stirred as well, a lascivious smile spreading across his lips despite the fact his eyes were still closed. "You want more?" He purred and ground himself against Vic. "Mac." Vic tried to gently push him away. Mac tightened his hold and laughed. "You get rid of that pee-hard and I'll give you anything you want." "Mac, stop." Vic pushed him further away. "Don't tell me to stop." His eyes came open and he frowned. "We have company." Mac jerked around. "Oh, fuck." He glared at Elliot. "What the hell do you want?" "I want to take your room service order. What do you think I want?" "Vic?" Mac challenged as he sat up and propped himself against the headboard. "Vic's the one you've always wanted." Elliot felt the cords tighten in at the back of his neck. "All I want is to get this fucked up mess over with and as far away from you as possible." "Fine! There's the door." Mac's arm shot out in the direction of Elliot's room. "Mac, stop it." Vic sat up and put his hand on Mac's chest. "We have to get back on... ." His hand flashed into a fist and hit the bed. "God damnit! I didn't call Ivy and tell her I wouldn't be back." He hit the mattress in three successive blows. "God damnit!" "You don't have to bother. Ivy called me a few minutes ago." Elliot told him. "Checking up on her wayward husband?" Mac grinned at Vic, who frowned in return. "You both need to get dressed so we can go upstairs. The Director is waiting for us." "Ivy! That bitch!" Mac wadded the edge of the blanket in his fist. "She called the Director on us?" "Mac, shut up," Vic told him. "We've got to think of something." He looked up at Elliot. "We need a plan, something to make this right before we see her." "I've got an idea." Elliot looked skeptically at Mac. "But there has to be full cooperation to make it work." "You've got it." Vic leaned forward, appearing eager to hear the strategy. "Mac?" Elliot prompted. "You got a problem with me?" "Not if you follow my orders." Mac's mouth twisted into a sneer. Vic put his hand on the other man's chest and stared at him. "Mac is fine with this Elliot. We can count on Mac. Can't we, Mac?" Mac shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Whatever." He pushed Vic's hand away. "The Director is going to have our balls for this anyway." He looked over at Elliot. "Those of us that still have them." Vic raised a finger at him, but Mac waved him off. "DelMar is using Jason as a courier." Elliot told them. "He has a pick up this afternoon at a prominent brokerage house in the financial district. He delivers a satchel of money from DelMar and receives in return the hottest, most inside information on what stock is about to become golden." "The insider-trading angle." Vic nodded his agreement. "Jason brings the tips back to us and we bring Jason in." "In where?" Mac asked. "I want to bring Jason into the agency." "Elliot you can't do that." Vic was smiling at him like he was a misguided child. "You brought Ivy in." "And it was almost the last thing I ever did. The only reason the Director allowed it was because she saw something in Ivy she could use." "I'll find something in Jason she can use." "Aren't we in enough trouble?" Mac asked. "Thanks to you, yeah." "You two knock it off." Vic raised his hand and stopped the bickering. "We'll try to sell the Director on this inside trading angle, and then we can talk to her about Jason." "Speaking of talking to someone. Tell him, Vic." Mac pointed at Elliot. Vic stared at Mac, nonplussed. "Not now." "Yes, right now. You promised me." Mac's narrowed eyes said the last words were a threat not a reminder. Victor turned slowly to face Elliot. "I'm glad you agree with me Vic." That sounded lame even to Elliot. If he could only get Vic on his side this one last time he could avoid the final humiliation that Mac so obviously wanted. "We have work to do." "Victor." Mac's voice escalated the name into a demand. Elliot watched helplessly as Vic dipped his head. He could be the most stubborn single-minded person in the world. But, like now, it was amazing how willingly he let Mac lead him in circles as if he were a horse in a circus ring. "We need to finalize the plan." Elliot continued, trying to sound in-charge instead of releasing the scared plea that beat a tattoo in his heart. "There's a lot we have to do, and not that much time." His gaze followed Mac's hand as it clamped onto Vic's wrist. "We can talk about this later. When we're alone." "That's impossible." Mac raised his free hand and wagged a finger at him. "Because you are never going to be alone with him again. Tell him, Vic." Vic looked up but only held his gaze for a second. "I'm sorry, Elliot." "You're the only one who is." Vic actually looked startled by the lack of regret his words carried. Elliot hoped he could cut short Mac's floorshow if he pretended not to care. Vic's eyes narrowed. It seemed to be working. Whatever sad little speech he had wanted to give to buffer their breakup was shelved. "I can't see you anymore." He looked over to Mac who wore a self-satisfied smirk. "Can we get to work now?" He demanded. "You understand, Elliot?" Mac barely had the words out when Vic grabbed his arm. "Stop it, Mac. Stop it right now! I said it. It's over. Now, leave him alone." Heat flashed over Elliot. "And if he leaves you alone, Vic," he watched Vic turn and nearly smile at the thought that Elliot was still offering to be there and pick up the pieces, "don't come looking for me, because I only make a mistake once." He turned before he had to see the familiar anger registered on Vic's face, and left the room. Elliot had stood in front of the closed door for what felt like forever. His hand rested on the knob until the metal grew warm in his grasp. Still, he couldn't move for fear of the scorn that had to wait for him on the other side. Finally, he opened the connecting hotel doors. He jumped at the click of the lock turning, the noise echoing like a gunshot in the tense silence that surrounded him. Mac twisted around at the intrusion, as he buttoned his shirt. "Don't they knock on whatever planet you're from?" Vic was sitting on the edge of the bed tying his shoes. He looked up at Elliot, an eager intensity lighting his face. "We'll be ready in a second. We just have to stick together on this. She has no leverage if we work together." The blood rushed and crashed in Elliot's ears. A wall of white noise made Vic's words sound like gibberish. He took a small, nearly painful breath and tried to remember how to speak. His voice sounded remarkably steady, if a little flat, when he told them. "Jason is gone." Vic blinked. His lips moved soundlessly, repeating the words as if trying to translate a foreign language. Then he looked at the floor and shook his head. "We are so fucking screwed." Part Ten Mac was nervous; he wouldn't stop snarking at Elliot as they walked down the hall to the penthouse suite Vic had shared with Ivy. Vic knew this was just Mac's way of coping, coping with the bungled assignment, the Director waiting for them, and the nearness of Vic's sometimes lover, Elliot. This knowledge didn't make it any less irritating. At this stage, it was disappointing as well. Vic hoped they were passed this. After the fight and the incredible make-up sex, they had talked late into the night until they had each, in turn, fallen asleep in mid-sentence. Vic thought they had settled some things, but since Mac was still reacting to Elliot, there was no denying that his anger wasn't sated. "I'm not taking the blame for this," Mac vowed. He pointed towards the door at the end of the hall where the Director waited, on the other side, to mete out judgment. "This isn't about blame," Elliot repeated for the third time. "Don't bother to answer him." Vic sighed. "It just keeps him going." "I knew you'd take his side." Mac shook his finger in Vic's face. "Funny, I was going to say the same thing." Elliot frowned at Vic. Vic turned and stopped. "Fine!" His hands balled into fists. "You keep goading each other, and trying to pin the blame on... ." "I never said anyone is to blame," Elliot emphasized. Mac took a step towards him. "Convenient memory. I remember you saying that if I blew this case you'd hang me out to dry with the Director." Elliot pointed an accusing finger at Mac. "So, you admit that you blew this case." Mac lunged at Elliot, but Vic intercepted him in motion, and pushed him against the corridor wall. "Stop it, Mac! Just fucking stop it." Mac squirmed in his grasp, but Vic pressed him against the wall. "If I hear one more Goddamn thing come out of your mouth I'm going to stick a gun in it." Vic leaned closer and his voice dropped. "I know how much I hurt you." Mac wouldn't look at him, but glared at Elliot. "I know you want to hurt somebody back, but Mac, this is going to hurt all of us. We have to cover each other when we walk in there, otherwise, she's going to shred us. You did blow the assignment." Mac snapped his attention back to Vic, and his face froze in a mask of bitter anger. "I blew my part, too. So did Elliot. At this point we've all failed, and she's not going to single out one of us. That's the only advantage we have. We stick together, and keep telling her that we need to get back on track, and maybe we can come out of this with our hides." Mac twisted away, and Vic let him go. "Mac?" "Whatever!" He jerked his hand up in an angry swipe. "Now can we get this over with?" Elliott sighed. Vic stepped forward until they stood toe to toe. "And you, pal, drop the act. You're a thief and a whore the same as we are. You're in the same kind of trouble right now. Do us all a favor, no more clever remarks. No more baiting Mac, and stop playing your favorite game of proving how much smarter you are than the rest of us." Elliot glanced away, but then nodded. "You don't have to worry about me, Vic. I've always been there for you." He looked pointedly at Mac. Vic threw up his arms. "You two just can't help yourselves. I might as well go in there on my knees, hand her a dildo and show her my ass, because that's what's going to happen with partners like you at my back." Mac stared at Elliot for a long moment. "That's your influence, not mine. He never talked like that before he met you." Elliot rolled his eyes. "It's not me, Diva. You're his inspiration for all those sick, power-sex games you mire yourselves in." "That's it!" Vic shouted. "Just know one thing. Whatever the Director does I will personally do something ten times worse to each of you. Is that incentive enough for both of you to come back to fucking reality?" Vic jerked a shrug. "Probably not." He stormed off towards the penthouse door. Elliot cocked an eyebrow. "Christ, that temper!" Mac mimicked the gesture. "You don't have to tell me." As they entered the luxurious suite Mac whispered, "Nice digs, man. So glad they put Elliot and me in connecting broom closets." Vic didn't acknowledge the remark. He was too surprised to see LiAnn standing next to the Director. All three women, Ivy, LiAnn and the Director, were frozen in the same pose. Lined up along the back of the couch, arms folded across their chest, they glared out a judgmental anger. "The Trinity." Vic said under his breath. He had moved far enough into the room for the Director and her bat ears to hear him, and she broke from the ranks. "Oh Victor, you are going to wish you only had the wrath of God to contend with." "We can explain everything," Mac blurted out. Vic grabbed his wrist, but he shook him off. The Director leaned her head back. She reminded Vic of a snake about to strike. "Do you really want to talk to me right now, Mr. Ramsey?" Mac swallowed, and looked at the floor. "No, I guess not." "That makes you the smart one." She glanced at each man. "Isn't that pathetic?" She turned and slowly moved away from them. Vic took the opportunity to nudge Mac and scowl, trying to emphasis, again, that he really needed to keep his mouth shut. "When I first received the phone call last night..." "Yeah," Mac interrupted, "thanks one whole hell of a lot, Ivy." "Fuck you." "Bitch!" "Shut up!" Vic turned and pushed Mac, hard, in the shoulder. "Shut up, damn it!" Mac pushed him back. "Are you going to let her... ?" "I called." LiAnn's voice cut into the argument. "I'm the one who called the Director." Vic stood open mouthed for a moment. "Why?" he finally managed. "I was worried about you. You were so insanely angry when you saw Mac that I didn't know what was going to happen. I was worried about both of you." "Seems she had good reason to be worried." The Director was standing in front of them again, and she smiled. Vic knew that was always a bad sign. "You boys looked in a mirror this morning?" Her hand darted out, and Mac winced as she poked one of the dark bruises on his neck. "Hey!" He gingerly touched the injured spot. "Victor, you really need to use a lighter hand on the choke chain. Everyone understands though. We've all wanted to strangle him at one time or another." "Very funny." There was only one way to deal with the Director when she was in this attack and destroy mode. Vic knew he had to stand up to her. "We all get it. You're going to make our lives a living hell. Not particularly original, just what you do best. But don't you think we should get this assignment out of the way first?" "Assignment?" The Director laughed. That was an even worse sign. "You were on an assignment? I'm sorry, Victor, but I couldn't tell. I thought you were on some sort of primal scream couples retreat for the last twenty-four hours. By the way, I like this graduated, air brushed effect on the side of your face. Did you get this as a remembrance of your time together, instead of Mac's name tattooed on your arm?" "Look we're here and ... ." "And you're queer," she finished for him. "Oh I'm sorry, I thought that was what you were finally going to have the stones to tell us. But it is nice that you're here. Romantic really." She looked around at everyone in the room, a venomous smile on her lips. "With all of you here I just have to ask, is there anyone in this room who hasn't had sex with Victor?" Her hand came to rest over her heart. "I didn't think so." "Ah!" Mac gasped out the surprised exclamation as he looked between Vic and the Director. "Wha... What?" He stammered. "When?" "I don't believe this!" LiAnn's voice rose in equal shock. "It was a long time ago!" There was no winning with the Director. Vic knew he'd been a fool to do anything but stand silently by, as Elliot was doing. "It was before either of you ever came on board." Mac and LiAnn were both shaking their heads. "It was when she first brought me in." The Director ran her hand slowly down her body. "Oh, and I brought him in, in every way imaginable." "Excuse me, reality check," Elliot said. "While you're busy pulling the wings off the flies, this mission is getting further away from being a success." "Elliot, how nice of you to contribute. Speaking of getting away, where's your little friend?" Elliot blinked. Vic could see he hadn't expected that. "Gone." "Gone? I see. And how much does he know?" He looked away. "Everything." "This amazes me, it truly does. You want to defer blame for the failure of this assignment to me, because I'm having a few words with my team. When in actuality, Vic and Mac's petty jealousy has all but destroyed this mission. And you, you Elliot, confide classified Agency information to someone who is working for the target of this assignment. What were you going to do with your new toy? Bring him to this meeting and tell me, 'He followed me home. Can I keep him?'" Mac snickered and the Director glared at him. "Do you want to share what could possibly be, even remotely, funny about this situation?" Mac swallowed and took a step back from her. "No, but thanks for asking." "What we want," Vic said, "is to make this assignment work." "I expected more from you, Victor." She glanced at Mac. "But I shouldn't be surprised." "We can make this work," Vic continued, trying to ignore the guilt she was so good at eliciting from him. "We need to find Jason," Elliot said. "Oh, I know where Jason is," the Director told him. "I provided backup for you and. . . ." "You sent someone to follow us?" Heat flashed over Victor. "Good thing I did. He's now following Jason who has taken a cab, apparently, back to DelMar's office." Elliot grabbed Vic's arm. "We have to help him. He's going to try to do this by himself." "We have a plan." Vic told the Director. "Had a plan," she corrected. Elliot turned back to the Director. "DelMar is using Jason as a courier. He's going to deliver a pay-off to Kingston and Fisher brokerage in exchange for insider trading information. He's going back to DelMar to get the money." "What makes you think he isn't going to DelMar to tell him everything he knows about the assignment?" the Director asked. "He wants out. He's indentured to DelMar and the guy has abused him." "I investigated Mr. Tell before you started this assignment. I know all about what DelMar has put him through." She glanced at Vic. "I would have thought this wounded bird thing is more to your taste, Victor. But then, you'd have to confess some things I'm willing to bet we'll never hear from you." She began to pace in front of them. "I'm still not convinced that Tell won't take the information to DelMar." "He left because he's afraid of DelMar. He's afraid of what might happen to me. Jason is trying to protect me." She stopped and smiled at Elliot. "Now, that wasn't so difficult to admit was it?" 'You bitch,' was very nearly out of Victor's mouth when Mac spoke. "This whole scene is a little self-indulgent even for you, isn't it? Shouldn't it be work first and humiliation after?" "How noble, protecting the man who has tried, on countless occasions, to steal your boyfriend away. Well, if you insist on putting up this trite united front I'll just have to split you up. "Ivy has been busy" The Director continued. "When you didn't call last night, Vic... ." "I meant to call," Vic told Ivy, as an embarrassing guilt burned across his cheeks. "I... I... just forgot." She only glanced at him. "Yeah, sure. You always mean to do a lot of things." The Director snapped her fingers in the air. "Later. Betty and Veronica can patch up their little spat later. Ivy has a brunch date with Cal Rutherford. She called him last night after her husband roughed her up." Victor snorted in disgust. "It seems that when you get angry, Victor, you take it out on your lovely wife. Mr. Rutherford is gallant enough to want to take Ivy away from all this." "He wants out of DelMar's organization," Ivy corrected. "If I get an hour alone with him he'll roll on DelMar." She shrugged as she finished, and still wouldn't look at Vic. "That's good work, Ivy," Elliot said, with a faint smile. She fixed him with a cold stare, her jaw working under her pale skin. "Yeah, I do a pretty good job by myself. I think I want to keep it that way." "We're a good team," Elliot told her. "We can work this out." "We'll discuss that later, as well." The Director looked between the two of them. "I'm just grateful that at least one of you is doing the job. As I was saying, Ivy is meeting Cal Rutherford who should provide all the financial evidence we need to take Mr. DelMar out of the picture." "Then you don't want to work the insider-trading angle?" Elliot asked. "Of course I do. And while you were all acting like characters in a French farce LiAnn was gathering information at last night's party. The drop off point for the insider trading tips Elliot's toy boy will be carrying is Satyr Video. So, we pick up the evidence and DelMar in one raid, exposing him as a pornographer at the same time. Not only will he be in legal trouble; he will be disgraced as well." "Hold on," Vic put out a hand to stop her. "If you get too public when you take down DelMar then everybody is going to know about Stephan Canlan and... and..." Amused shock spread a smile across Vic's face. "This was your plan from the beginning. DelMar's just a pawn. You took this assignment so you could keep Roger Canlan from becoming Prime Minister." "That's my bright boy. But Victor, please. I don't meddle in politics; it's beneath me. Remember that I didn't take this assignment, it was pressed upon me. If Roger Canlan is doing that sort of thing before he even gets elected we won't have a moment's peace if he becomes Prime Minister." "You're subverting the political process." Vic pointed off into the distance where he could imagine the Director stuffing, stealing or emptying ballot boxes. "You're interfering with the election of the Prime Minister." "Roger Canlan is interfering with my Agency." She leaned close to Vic. "And I will not tolerate that." Vic leaned close as well, until their noses were almost touching. "What happens when that shadowy branch of the government that funds this kingdom of yours finds out you deliberately threw this assignment?" She leaned away. "It's not a kingdom, Victor. I like to think of my rule as a matriarchal autocracy. When Canlan falls, so do a lot of his associates. Those who remain are much more sympathetic to the goals, and the autonomy of this agency." She smiled again. "We've been planning this for some time, now." "You still failed. The mission failed on your watch." Mac said. The Director waved her hand dismissively. "You failed, Mac. Victor failed, and Elliot failed. It's sad that such exemplary agents just couldn't make things work because of the sexual tension between them. Then, that's not something your run of the mill lawmaker will want to explore in an open hearing. So, you see, from every angle the Agency comes out clean on this one. It's a don't ask, don't tell situation on every level." Ivy looked at her watch. "I need to leave." The Director nodded. "Call me when you get Rutherford back to the Agency." Ivy nodded back and walked passed her. As she neared, Vic reached out and took her hand. He felt a tremble in her chilled fingers as he touched her. She only glanced at him, and then gently pulled away. "Ivy I... ." "Not now, Vic." She kept walking. "I'll call you. If I don't forget." She left the room. Victor lowered his head. This was too familiar. He'd abandoned her again, without knowing it, and without meaning to. "Snap out of it, Victor." The Director waved her hand in front of his face, and he jerked back a step. "She'll call you. She just has to get the taste of this assignment out of her mouth." "Who can blame her," Elliot said softly. "You're the one who should worry." The Director stepped beside him. "She wants me to transfer her to Paris, and she doesn't even speak French. One of my best agents wants to leave me because of something her partner has done." Elliot pursed his lips and glanced down. "I'll talk to her. She'll change her mind." The Director leaned close, cocked her head and cupped a hand to her ear. "You'll what?" "I'll apologize." Elliot threw up his hands and stared at her. "Okay? I'll apologize and grovel and promise that I'll never lie to her again. Satisfied?" The last word boomed in a crescendo of frustration. The Director let out a contented sigh. "It's a start." Mac tapped his watch. "Assignment? Election tampering? World domination time." "How refreshing, Mac. You actually want to work." Mac grinned an infuriatingly false smile. "Twenty-four, seven." The Director only scowled in response. "LiAnn, go back to DelMar's office and download as many files as you can manage without being detected. Look for financial records, double sets of books and the like. See if you can find anything on the premises that will link DelMar directly to Satyr Studios." Vic grabbed LiAnn by the arm as she walked passed. He glared at the Director. "You're serious. You're going to split us up." "Victor calm down." LiAnn ran her hand over the back of his head and pulled him to her. She rested her forehead against his. "I have things to finish up. Things I've been working on, by myself, since we started this one. We're still partners." She glanced at the Director. "We'll talk later. Take the time to come up with something good, because this one is really hard to accept." She turned back to Vic and puckered her lips. She paused, then leaned away and studied him for a moment. "I'd kiss you, but your face looks as if it hurts like hell." She smoothed the front of his hair with her fingers. "Just do what you need to do, and we'll get through this one like we have all the others." Her hand shot out and caught Mac in the ribs, nearly doubling him. "And don't let anyone distract you." Mac straightened hugging his sides. "What the hell was that for?" LiAnn looked at the Director and shrugged. "I told you. Nothing is ever his fault." She kissed the tip of her finger and pressed it gingerly to Vic's parted lips. "Have to run." She smiled and left the room. "Let's recap." The Director held up her hand and bent down a pair of fingers, "That makes two female agents operating at peak efficiency," her hand jerked in a throwaway motion, "and then there's you three." Vic crossed his arms over his chest and leaned away from her. "Can you actually be transferred?" His eyes narrowed with disbelief. "Because right now, I'd settle for Moose Jaw." "One may be transferred, but you can't. Slaves have to be sold." "Why did she do that?" Mac looked back towards the door and rubbed the spot LiAnn had hit. "Mac, shut up!" the Director, Elliot and Vic said in unison. The Director snagged a cell phone from the end table next to the couch. "Elliot, contact Pearson. He's number one on speed dial. He's following Jason Tell. Catch up with him, and be certain that your boy makes the delivery to DelMar. Vic and Mac will meet you at Satyr Studios as backup." Elliot took the phone. "We need to talk about Jason." "Make this work and we'll talk. That's all I'm offering." "We're back up?" Mac said with a frown. "Just backup, after all we've done?" The Director jerked around to stare at him. "After all you've done, Mr. Ramsey, you should be dog food. Have I told you that Dobrinsky has a new pit bull? He seems to be having training problems with him. Perhaps an hour alone with you with a pork chop tied around your neck, and everyone's problems will be solved." "May I leave?" Elliot waved the phone at the Director. She motioned him away. "Moose Jaw, eh?" he said as he passed Vic. "Right now I'd trade this job for a cardboard box in a pee-soaked alley." "That can be arranged." The Director tapped her foot with a displeased rhythm as she watched him leave. "This business is full of Prima Donnas." The door clicked shut and he was gone. "Hello, kettle... ." Mac chided. "Why are you still here?" She glared at Mac, but then turned to Vic. "Make this work Victor. I know that you can." Vic shook his head. "I want a long vacation out of this one." "Why are we the backup?" Mac started to hold out his hand, ready to tick off on his fingers all the points that would make this latest demotion nonsense. Vic took his hand and turned him towards the door. "Go back down to your room and wait for me. I'll be there in a minute." "But... ." Vic pushed him closer to the door. "Mac, just do what I say for once. I'm going to get my own clothes, and then I'll be there." He had the door open, and nudged Mac out into the hall. "I'll be five minutes tops." He kissed Mac as yet another protest began. Vic shut the door and strode back towards the bedroom. When he walked through the double doors he saw the Director sitting on the bed. She had his clothes draped across her lap. "Are these what you're after?" She held up the well-worn jeans. Vic snatched them from her and motioned towards the doors. "You mind?" "I've never minded before Victor. Go ahead." "You had no right or reason to tell them about us." "I was feeling left out. I wanted to be an FOV; Friend of Victor's too. I thought it might all end in a nice big group hug." "You wanted to punish me, like always." Victor stripped off the tailored linen shirt. There was no real reason to pretend modesty around her. She'd seen him naked, dressed in leather and studs, and even on all fours gleaming in gold body paint and a bejeweled dog collar. She had initiated him into more than just the Agency when he'd first arrived. The Director had opened the door to a world of kinkiness that he was ashamed to admit he found exhilarating. "Victor, you are the responsible one. The example you set, the other children follow. What does it teach them when you... ." "Don't you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?" He threw the shirt down on the bed beside her. "I give you one hundred and ten percent and all you've ever given me are snide remarks." "Things weren't always like this, Victor." She reached out and snagged the buckle on his belt. Despite the anger that still glowed hot on his skin, he let her pull him towards her. "I remember a time when we had a very special relationship." Vic batted her hands away as she tried to undo his belt. "Yeah, thanks. And now I have to explain that to Mac." He waved a hand towards the door. "And to LiAnn, for god's sake! And what the hell did that look between the two of you mean?" "Ah, LiAnn. That was nice for you too, wasn't it? I was growing bored. Not your fault. I have an appetite control problem when it comes to men. So, I gave you this exotic young beauty who thought you were the Second Coming, or whatever the Buddhist equivalent is. Ah, that was a golden time. You were my favorite operative and you were LiAnn's true love. No man could want for more attention than you received from the two of us." A creeping anger tingled up his spine. It spread out to fire his nerves with jealousy. No matter what happened in the future there would never be a time like that again. He had been the center of attention. He had been powerful, brilliantand loved. Then he lost it all to an interloper. He took a step back from her and toed off his shoes, then undid his belt and dropped his pants. He stepped into his jeans and jerked them up. The memory of how his life had been shattered with Mac's arrival burned through him. "Now who was it," the Director continued, "that stole our attention away? Oh, yes!" She raised one perfectly manicured nail. "It was your paramour, Mac Ramsey." "Really?" Vic buckled his belt and tried to fight the resentment that still cried out to be fed. "I saw what you did to Mac a few minutes ago. What you're doing now is no big surprise." He jerked the denim shirt from her hands. "I already knew that you get a kick out of poking at sores." "So, it's still a sore point, hmm?" The Director nodded her head. "I understand completely. The good boy is ignored while the bad boy gets all the attention." Vic turned his back on her and put on his shirt. She was just going to trash Mac again. It seemed to be her fad of the moment. She hoped to rekindle old jealousies so he would join in. If there was anyone he should be angry with it was the Director. She was the one who introduced the snake into the garden. Vic shook his head. He hadn't thought of Mac that way for a long time. He wasn't going to give in to the temptation, though, and join her in a rousing game of what's wrong with Mac Ramsey. Besides, it rang false when she trusted Mac with the most sensitive assignments, assignments she knew that only he could complete. She only ragged on him because she couldn't control him completely. He wouldn't kowtow to her, and Victor knew that just fried her. "I gave Mac more credit than he deserved. But that's just me. I expect everyone to be at my level." Vic laughed as he reached in the closet to get his boots. "That's it. You're never wrong. He just didn't live up to expectations. Another agent lets you down again." "Actually, Victor, I felt as if I had let you down. That's why I thought I could make it up to you with Elliot." Vic nearly fell as he swung around one boot half on, his foot in the air as he tugged. "You... you.. What?" he stammered. "You mean... ah... Christ! I was just another one of Elliot's fuck assignments?" He stomped his foot into the boot and stood up. "You were never an assignment to Elliot. He's really very fond of you." "But you sicked him on me. 'Go screw with Vic. Pretend you like him.'" "He never pretended." "'Give me one more way that I can manipulate and control him.'" Victor paced across the room, anger and embarrassment pulsing in him. "Victor, I wanted to give you another option. I'd let things go as long as I did because I'd hoped that you would influence Mac. You're the man he'd like to be, responsible, thoughtful and moral. Most of his caustic remarks are just hidden confessions that he knows he can never be as good as you. Instead of swaying him, however, you seem to be drawn to this element of hedonistic risk that is the backbone of his irksome personality." She gave an exasperated wave of her hand. "He isn't having as much fun as you seem to think you're missing." "So, you threw Elliot at me to break us up." He grabbed the dress slacks from the floor and threw them. The buckle on the belt cracked against the mirrored door of the closet, leaving a tiny fissure. "Please, Victor. We're not rock stars trashing hotel rooms." The Director walked to the closet and picked up the pants. She rubbed the scratch on the mirror with her fingertip. "I didn't have to throw Elliot at you," she said as she straightened. "You seemed more than happy to be with someone your own emotional age." "No!" Vic pointed a warning finger at her. "I wouldn't have been with him at all if you hadn't put him up to it." "Victor, I never put him up to anything." The Director took a hanger from the closet and arranged Victor's pants on it. "I merely observed the attraction he had for you, the way you responded to him on your birthday, and I simply created opportunity for both of you." She hung the slacks in the closet. "You're not going to be able to find excuses outside yourself for why you were with Elliot." "And your meddling isn't an excuse? I can't believe you're not taking the credit for this one." "I just wanted to give you a chance to grow. Elliot is the kind of person who can broaden your horizons. Mac Ramsey can only teach you the fine art of underachieving. You are my best agent, Victor, and I'm not going to let anyone make you less than who I know you can be." Victor put his hands over his mouth and threw his head back. He was tired, angry and ready to walk. He laughed out of desperation. He looked at the Director and let his arms fall to his sides. "We're only who you let us be, aren't we? My Birthday." He laughed again. "I'd heard rumors that there were tapes of my present floating around. You manipulate everyone and Adam's cat at the Agency. You influence national elections. Why should I think I'd have any say over my own sex life?" "Oh Victor, please!" She slid shut the mirrored closet door with a bang. "Do you really think I care who you sleep with, or who I watch you sleep with? I'm talking about your emotional life, your professional life. You and Elliot make a good team, you are simpatico. I could see you going on to do very important work together. With Mac you can only look forward to being the recipient of one reprimand after another from me. Is that your idea of a valuable life?" It suddenly all fell into place. 'Reprimands from me...' 'you and Mac.' The light came on like dawn on a snowy day. Vic realized this wasn't about what was best for his career. It wasn't even about Mac and his lapses of judgment, and it had never really been about Elliot, at all. This was, as it was in the beginning and always will be, about the Director. "Let me make sure I understand this." He began to button his shirt. "Especially since you think I've been dumbed-down by my time with Mac." The Director raised an eyebrow and nodded. Vic went to the closet, picked up his other boot and pulled it on. "You think I'd be happier with Elliot because he could help me reach my true potential." "Absolutely." "You sure?" Victor grinned at her as he tucked his shirt in. "You sure it's not because if you make me be a good boy with Elliot, then you won't have two bad boys to get in your face?" She blinked. He had her. Vic clapped his hands together. "That's it, isn't it? Jesus, I can't believe it! Well, actually I can." He rubbed his hands together as the Director frowned and crossed her arms. "This is so like you. You really could care less whether I'm fucking Elliot, Mac or a knothole. What really frosts your ass is when Mac, LiAnn and I stand up to you together. That's what this is about. Once Mac and I stopped fighting you lost the advantage." "And your team lost its edge." "No. We just figured out how to play you instead of letting you play each of us off against the other." Victor slid open the closet door and pulled his leather jacket from a hanger. "I have invested a great deal of time and money in Mac Ramsey. As of today that investment has not paid off. If I don't see some return soon I'm just going to have to cut my losses." Victor turned. He'd won this one, but she wasn't going to admit it. Her mouth was drawn into a tense line. He knew the look. She was going to get even. "If anything happens to Mac I'll show you what my potential is. If he's sent away, or if he's hurt, or you cause him to be hurt, you won't have to worry about your investment. You'll be dead." "Don't threaten me Victor." "Oh, it's not a threat; it's a promise." He'd never meant anything more in his life. He could see by the tiny narrowing of her eyes that she knew this too. "Then I should make a promise as well. Apparently, it now falls to me to see to it that Mac has a long and fruitful career with the Agency. I've learned that if you want a job done right you delegate, and make it someone else's problem. As of this moment, Victor, Mac's future is all up to you. You bring him into line or, I guess, we all suffer the consequences." She'd done it again. She was a master at knocking the wind out of him. He drew in a deep breath as the enormity of what she'd just saddled him with sunk in. "You planned all this out, too." He might as well have said 'you win' by the small, pleased smile it prompted from her. "Of course I did. What do you think I do, Victor, get up in the morning and hope I get through to the end of the day? I leave nothing to chance. That's why Mac Ramsey is always such an irritating unknown factor." Vic grabbed the bottom of his jacket and whipped it against the wall. "God you did this all on purpose!" "Victor, you should be happy about this. I'm convinced. You've finally convinced me that you and Mac belong together. I offered you Elliot, and that never really went anywhere. Then I tempted you with Ivy... ." He pointed a warning finger at her. "I knew that was a setup." The Director shrugged and gave a sad shake of her head. "Unfortunately, she turned out to be the one set-up. Poor Ivy, she is genuinely fond of you, as well. So much desire from so many people." The Director made an all encompassing sweep with her hand. "And the only one you want is Mac Ramsey. Well, now you have him. He's your charge, and his value as an agent is in your hands. Don't let yourself down." "This isn't fair!" Vic clutched at his jacket trying to keep from striking out at her. "Victor?" She cocked her head as if she couldn't understand his protest. "Life." She waved her hand dismissively. "You know. Isn't. Besides, if you want to keep a pet you have to be the one to take care of him." There was no winning with her. He was certain that was going to be the epithet chiseled on his headstone. But why wait? He'd get that tattooed on his reamed ass to commemorate the last couple of fun filled days. Victor bent his head from side to side trying to stretch out the anger that knotted his neck. He finally looked at her. Thankfully she wasn't gloating. "Like I said, you owe me a big, long, expensive vacation for this one." "Go, Victor." She stepped to the bed and picked up his discarded dress shirt. "You have an assignment to complete." She draped the shirt over her arm. "And I have so many things to cross off my to-do list." Victor scowled and shook his head. "Oh Victor don't sulk. I hate it when you sulk. I don't expect the world; we are dealing with Mac Ramsey, after all. I just want a little attitude adjustment." Vic shrugged into his leather jacket and turned to leave. "I want you to guide Mac." She called after him. "But you could take his advise on clothes." The door slammed shut. "Prima Donnas! I'm surrounded by Prima Donnas." Jason Tell waited impatiently for the elevator to return to the top floor of the House of DelMar. He'd forgotten his jacket, in DelMar's office, after he'd gotten his instructions. It wasn't surprising. He felt like crap. There was a dull ache behind his eyes, and he was a little shaky. Still, the food Elliot gave him had helped to settle his stomach. Elliot had been great to him. He was going to show his appreciation by turning DelMar in, while keeping Elliot as far away from danger as possible. He stepped out of the elevator as soon as the doors hissed open. He had to get back fast. Stephan Canlan had been at the meeting and he could just see that little piece of shit walking away with his jacket and then pretending he didn't know anything about it later. Tess wasn't at the reception desk as he neared and the door to DelMar's office was ajar. This was good. He'd avoid any of her questions and just slip in, take whatever nasty remarks that he knew he'd hear about leaving his jacket, and get out as quickly as he could. As he reached the door he heard voices. He recognized them all, and one made him stop in his tracks. He swallowed hard, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. He moved to the door and looked inside. DelMar was gone, probably on his way to the studio to wait for the drop off. Three men were in front of his desk. Max Hardt, the video director, stood beside the desk and smiled at Stephen Canlan who straddled a third man perched on the edge of the desk. Canlan rocked from side to side undulating sensually over the other man. As he moved Jason saw Elliot smiling up at him. "Stevie is one sexy boy." Max Hardt stated. "I can see that." Elliot's hands encircled Canlan's waist and he squeezed. Canlan squirmed and gave a breathy laugh, but quickly went back to his slow rub along Elliot's leg. "Bobby won't let me make any movies." Canlan told him. "I think he's jealous. He's afraid I'll become more famous than he is." "You deserve an opportunity," Elliot said and looked over to Max Hardt. "We should take Stevie down to the studio and make a demo tape." Hardt smiled broadly. "You come up with some damn good ideas, Elliot." "That's my job. I'm the idea man." He turned back to Canlan. "But Stevie is the man who can make things happen. He's the star." Elliot ran his hands up Canlan's back as he arched into the touch. "You want me to make you a star?" "I've never made a movie before. Bobby has never let me. I wouldn't know what to do," he said in voice soft and ringing with false timidity. "Then I'll just have to show you how it's done." Elliot lowered his hands and squeezed Canlan's ass. Canlan leaned towards him and bent his head. "Show me," he said in a sultry tone, as he grew closer. "Show me how it's done and make me a star." Their lips met and slid into a sensuous kiss. Jason Tell pressed his back against the wall and struggled to breathe. God, what an idiot he was to believe Elliot. When was he going to learn that the only person he could trust was himself? He tried to think about what he should do. He pushed down the pain and disappointment that threatened to overwhelm him. He wasn't like them, he kept repeating to himself. He was just trapped in their world, but not part of it. The only way he could save himself was to keep his bargain with Elliot. Just because none of them had any integrity didn't mean he'd lost his. He pushed away from the wall and headed for the elevator. He needed to make two copies of the stock information before he dropped it off to DelMar. He'd turn a copy over to Elliot, that way he'd keep his end of the deal. When Elliot's story proved to be a lie and nothing happened besides Elliot growing wealthy, he'd contact the Feds and turn the evidence over to them. One way or another he was going to do the right thing and redeem his soul. The elevator closed and Jason squeezed his eyes shut, trying to erase the image of Elliot and Canlan together. When this mess was over he was going to move to Arizona so he could be near Todd and his mother and help them out. He'd find a job, any job as long as it was honest and hard. Something that would keep him from thinking. He'd build a quiet, simple life devoid of people who lie for a living. The elevator door opened and he walked into the lobby of the building towards the revolving doors that lead to the street beyond. His steps kept time to an insistent lament. 'Why Elliot? Why?' Section Six: Parts Eleven – Fourteen oatuniverse@yahoo.com

FANDOM: Once A Thief PAIRING: Vic/Mac/others RATING: NC-17 M/M Sex and Language STATUS: WIP FEEDBACK: Please oatuniverse@yahoo.com DISCLAIMER: They belong to John Woo and Alliance. THANKS: Kest and Nicole for the encouragement and best beta ever. SUMMARY: Vic and Mac go undercover with operatives from Section Six, the agencies sexual experts. ARCHIVE: RatB, Calculated Risks http://denofsin.slashcity.tv/~lefey back to top

[Stories by Author] [Stories by Title] [Fanart] [Episodes] [Characters] [Cast] [Resources] [Links] [Guestbook] [Mailing List] [Zines] [Home]