Mac Ramsey sat watching the man at the bar drink. Victor Mansfield was
well on his way to being completely sloshed, and Mac had a feeling that
he knew why.

For the last couple of days Mac and Li Ann, two thirds of their team, had
been living together as man and wife, pretending to be a rather offensive
married couple, Herbie and Peaches (god help us all), who were also
terrorists. "Find out why they're here" the Director had told them.
Instead they had spent most of their time getting on each other's nerves.
Maybe it was just as well they had never gotten married for real - they
would have killed each other inside of a week.

But when Li Ann had arrived at the bar, looking serious, and had asked to
talk to Victor alone... Mac had had a sinking feeling. The look on
Victor's face, as Li Ann had left, had confirmed it. She had decided to
break off their engagement. Well... he had been surprised that it had
lasted *this* long. He had warned the older man that she was never going
to marry him. Mac *knew* that Li Ann was just *not* the type to commit.
But Victor had ignored him, assuming that it was just jealousy talking.

Mac finished his drink and thought about leaving. Unfortunately, if
Victor did anything stupid, the Director would probably blame him. He
wasn't sure that there was anything worse than being forced to deal with
Dobrinsky's septic tank, but he didn't want to take the chance. He really
didn't want to deal with Mr. Do-It-Yourself Son-Of-A-Bitch Dobrinsky
again anytime soon.

He sighed, and got up to go join Victor. It was going to be a *long*
evening.

* * * * *

"I can't believe sea... she dumped me. Jus' like that. Said she wasn't sure
marriage was for her. Said it wasn't pretending to be married to you.
Hah! S'all yer fault. You didn't like her with me. Thought I wasn't good
enough, right? Show.. so you deshided to make sure we broke up..." Victor
knocked back his latest drink. Mac didn't think he'd ever seen the
straight-laced ex-cop drunk before. He decided it wasn't really a pretty
sight. He sighed, and finished off his own drink, then signaled the
bartender to bring him another.

"Wasn't me. Tried to warn you, y'know. Said she wasn't gonna marry you."
He waved his fresh drink towards Victor. "Heck, warned ya again when this
case started. She won't set a date? Isn't that warnin' enough for ya?"

Victor frowned. "'s different. We were still engaged. Now she wants to
go *think* about it. Wants to *postpone* the engagement. How the heck do
you postpone an *engagement*?!"

He waved to the bartender to come refill his glass. The guy behind the
bar frowned at him. "Pal, I think you two have had enough. How 'bout I
call a cab for you?" Mac and Victor both scowled at the man.

He saw these two in here a lot, along with the girl who left earlier, and
was tempted to cut them some slack. After all, the one guy had just lost
his girl, and, from past conversations, it sounded like they were in a
pretty tense occupation, anyway What harm could it do to let them have
a couple more drinks? Then he remembered the older woman who came in
sometimes, the redhead. She scared him. Somehow he figured that if he let
these two get arrested as either drunk-and-disorderly, or for driving
under the influence, she might come after him. He shuddered, then turned
to the phone to call a cab.

* * * * *

They had paid off the cabbie and were half-way up in the elevator before
they realized they were *both* heading for Victor's apartment. Mac just
shrugged. He was pretty wasted, and Victor was even further along. Better
not to leave him alone. Not to mention that the other man might not even
make it down the hall under his own power.

It took Victor three tries to get his key into the lock and turned, then
they stumbled into the apartment's living room.

"Nice view," Mac said, not really looking.

"Whatever."

Actually, it was a nice place. Bright, cheery. Yellow paint on the walls.
Then Mac got a good look at the stereo system. My God, the man had an
eight-track! He really needed to join the nineties.

Victor fumbled around in the kitchen for a few minutes, then came out
juggling an unopened bottle of whiskey and two glasses with ice. "You
wan' some more?"

"Sure, why not?"

They sat on the couch for a while, not actually saying anything, just
sipping their whiskeys. Mac finally broke the silence.

"You know, it's not like she's the only girl out there..."

"Suuuure. That's why *you're* shtill mooning after her."

"I am *not* mooning after her. It's jus'... we're from the same place. We
understand each other. We grew up together. You don't really understand
her."

"And you do? Hah!"

Mac topped up his glass again. "Anyway, you'll find someone else. You're
cute. The girls go for your type."

"Oh *great*! Just what I wanted to hear. I'm *cute*! You get to be good-
looking, handsome, exotic, and I get to be *cute*!!" Victor practically
spat out the word, then downed the rest of his drink.

"Huh? Exotic? What do you mean 'exotic'?" Mac blinked at him, confused at
the words and tone.

"C'mon, you always get noticed by the women. Even the Director chases you
around." Mac shuddered at the thought. "Heck, even the men watch ya.
You've got tha' gorgeous voice, an' tha' mouth..." Victor was finally
reduced to just waving his glass around, incoherently. He picked up the
bottle and refilled.

"Sho.... D'you think I'm cute?"

"Huh?" Mac looked at him in surprise, having trouble keeping track of the
conversation by that point.

"You shed... said I wouldn't have trouble findin' someone else 'cause I'm
*cute*. Doesh tha' mean *you* think I'm cute?" Victor was staring at him
with a strange expression on his face. For a second it almost looked like
a... leer? Mac looked at him for a moment, trying to collect his
thoughts. Answering was probably not a good idea, but the words just
popped out...

"Sure I think you're cute. Why wouldn't I?"

"How m'I cute?"

"Huh?"

"How m'I cute? Detailsh... I gave you detailsh, so it's your turn."

"Err..." Mac was starting to get *really* weirded out by the whole
conversation. "Well, you've got that that square chin, an' those big
'trust me' eyes, and tha' *cute* grin." Victor suddenly flashed that
grin at him, and Mac couldn't help but to grin back.

"Sho... you *do* think I'm cute!" Mac eyed Victor dubiously. The other man
was *still* grinning - not to mention getting closer. In fact, he almost
looked... predatory.

"Ummm... what are you... Maybe I should call a cab... Head home..."

"Shaddup, Ramsey." With that, Victor pounced.

Mac blinked, and suddenly found himself flat on his back on the floor
next to the couch, with the older man seated firmly on his chest.. "Wait
a mi... umph.." He hazily realized that he had stopped talking because
there was a tongue trying to migrate down his throat. He tried using his
own tongue to push out the invader, but it was *very* determined.

Besides, he was quickly loosing interest in fighting. Damn, the man could
kiss. Man... oh, man, this was weird. Mac spent the next few moments trying
to figure out just *why* he was kissing a *man*, and one he didn't like,
for that matter. Not to mention, one that needed a shave. He never would
have thought that Victor was the type who would even *think* of doing
something like this. Of course, he was wasted enough that he probably
wasn't thinking, anyway. Not being able to come to any conclusions, thanks
to the alcohol-induced haze he was in, he turned his attention back to
his surroundings.

Somehow they had moved from the living room to the bedroom, and their
clothes had disappeared somewhere in the transit. Now he was flat on his
back with an armful of squirming, naked Victor. Not his first - or even
last - choice in bed-partners. At least, not before that night.

'He'sh gonna *hate* me in the morning. Even more than he already doesh,'
was all Mac could think.

"Thish ish... not a good idea..."

"Sure it issss... The Director said she likes shexual tension in a team,
right? So, les' make it a *real* triangle. An' don't try to get away. I'm
faster than you are."

This was followed up by a lick to his neck, then another tonsil-diving
kiss. By that point, Mac's last functioning brain cells were shutting
down in total confusion and his cock started talking too loud to hear
anything else. He was so confused that the argument almost made *sense*.

Anyway, if he wasn't going to be able to get away with his... virtue
intact, he might as well enjoy it. Right?

He flipped Victor over onto his back and started his own exploration. It
wasn't as though he'd done this before, but 'Hey!' he thought, 'If it's
something *I* like, he'll probably like it too.' He was almost absurdly
proud to find that his line of reasoning was reasonable correct. He soon
had a writhing Victor under him that was hard to hang onto. He didn't
need to ask if the other man was enjoying himself - the stream of babble
told him that.

What did surprise him was how *much* he was enjoying it. After all, this
was *Victor*! Then, suddenly he was back on the bottom and enjoying the
attentions that were being lavished on him. Somehow it seemed like there
had to be more than just two hands and one mouth involved, because they
were *everywhere*!

Then Victor was laying on top of him, thrusting at him with great vigor.
The feeling of cock against cock was more intense than anything he had
felt before. Mac thrust back, quickly picking up the tempo, until Victor
froze, howling. Mac shuddered, his own orgasm triggered by the sight, and
by the feel of the other man's semen spreading warmly across his own
stomach.

Victor collapsed on top of him, snoring already. Mac wiped them both off
with a corner of the bedsheet and thought, fuzzily, of getting dressed
and calling a cab to get home. He was still considering it when sleep
caught up with him.

* * * * *

Somebody stop the world, I wanna get off...

The next morning Victor woke with a pounding headache and a mouth that
tasted like something died in it. He was thankful that he didn't have to
go to work that day. The Director would have a field day with his condition.

Now, how the hell did he get this way?

Then he realized he was wrapped around someone warm. Smiling to himself,
he licked at the neck his face was pressed against. Then he heard the
pained groan. A very decidedly *masculine* groan. He lifted up
cautiously, stomach protesting the movement vehemently, to see who he was
in bed with. It was Mac, and he looked about as hung over as Victor felt.

"Mac?!?"

"aaargghhh! not so loud." Mac moaned and covered bloodshot eyes. Then he
peaked out again with a confused look on his face.

"Mac. What are you doing in my bed?"

"You don't know?"

"Would I be asking if I did?"

"I guess not. Ummmm. I'm not sure. You were getting really drunk in the
bar last night (at least I *think* it was last night) and I decided I
better baby-sit you, since the Director would blame me if you got in any
trouble (and I really don't want to get into any more trouble with her).
Oh man... I have *never* been so drunk in my *life*!"

"*Baby-sit*?!?" They both winced at the volume.

"You said something about Li Ann dumping you and it was all my fault,
then we both kept drinking. And drinking. And drinking. That's the last I
remember. Oooohhh... Damn, my head hurts." Mac rolled over, squinting
briefly at some of the strange stains on the bedsheets, and pulled
himself upright.

They both staggered to their feet and made their way out to the living
room. They stared at the path of clothing leading to the bedroom,
discarded, it seemed, one item at a time. They looked at each other
questioningly.

"Nahhhhh." They both winced, then went to find something to settle their
stomachs.

Victor didn't notice Mac looking back at the bed with a faint look of
regret.
 

----------------------------------------
Aftermath
by Lianne Burwell
February 1998
----------------------------------------

"Damnit! How do we get in these messes anyway?"

Victor popped a fresh clip into his gun while Mac fired off a couple of
shots as cover.

"I mean, what were we told? Two guys with handguns guarding the hostage.
What do we find? No hostage and *twenty* guys with automatics! If they
keep doing this to us, we're going to end up *dead*."

When Victor popped up to take out a couple more of their attackers, Mac
just snarled at him. "You might want to cut down the chatter, if we're
going to get out of here alive, you know."

Victor looked at Mac for a second before firing off another few shots.
Mac had been very testy for the last few weeks. He seemed to be avoiding
Victor's company, and when they *were* in the same room, Mac was
constantly snapping at him. Maybe they had never been exactly *friends*,
but Mac never joked around him, or made suggestive comments anymore, and
Victor was missing it. Mac was immature, sarcastic and juvenile, but he
was great company.

Or he used to be.

But now was *not* the time to be musing on the meaning of life. They were
pinned down at the back of an old warehouse, with no way out, and a lot
of *really* nasty types trying to kill them. Their backup, Li Ann, was on
her way, but God only knew if she'd be there in time.

Then there was a disturbing rattle over to the side. A familiar one.

Grenade.

Shit.

Mac noticed it too. He immediately swept Victor off to the side, around a
pile of crates, and landed on top of the older man with just seconds to
spare. As his ears rang from the explosion, and the crates came tumbling
down on them, Victor felt the unmistakable heat of an erection pressed
against his backside.

What the hell?

Then everything went black.

* * * * *

Pain greeted him when he came to his senses. Mac and Li Ann were hovering
over him with concerned looks.

"Wha... what happened?" They both looked relieved. Mac gave a sheepish grin.

"One of the crates missed me, but bounced off of your head." Victor
touched the back of his head and winced at the pain from the lump. His
fingers came away stained slightly red. "Anyway, I was trying to figure
out what the heck to do next, when Li Ann came bursting in. A little
gunfire, a few stun-grenades, and the fight was over. Y'okay?"

Victor sat up, gingerly, and gave his head a little shake. It hurt like
hell, and his stomach wasn't too crazy about it either, but he was too
badly hurt. He could see an Agency cleanup crew dealing with the
terrorists, both alive and dead. "Yeah, I'll be okay. A good night's
sleep..."

Mac pulled him to his feet. He swayed for a moment, but stayed upright.
Li Ann still looked worried, though. "Mac," she said. "Take him home and
make sure he's all right there."

"Wouldn't you be better..." She glared at him. "All right, all right. We're
going. You can explain what happened to the Director, then." She blanched
a little at that, but just pointed him at the door.

* * * * *

Despite Victor's protests, Mac insisted on stopping to see a doctor
first. A mild concussion was the verdict, and he was told to stay away
from alcohol, and to go to the hospital if his vision started to go
funny, or if he started throwing up. Then Mac drove him home and insisted
on escorting him up to his apartment door.

But at the door, Mac seemed to shut down. He looked everywhere except at
Victor or the door, and he looked like he was going to bolt at any second.

"There. I've gotten you home, and you can tell Li Ann that. See 'ya
tomorrow." He was already shuffling in the direction of the elevators
when Victor decided that he had had enough. He reached out to snag the
young man's arm, and pulled him through the door. Mac opened his mouth to
speak.

"No way, Mac. We need to talk. Now." He waved Mac towards the sofa. The
other man sat down, while Victor went to kitchen and filled a couple of
glasses with ice water. He handed one of the glasses to Mac and then sat
in a chair opposite him.

"Talk to me, Mac."

"I... I'm not sure what you mean."

Victor sighed. This was, obviously, not going to be simple. "You've been
avoiding me, treating me like I have the plague, or something. I mean,
you won't even look me in the eye right now! I know that you don't really
*like* me, but this is ridiculous."

Mac muttered something indistinct, still not looking at him. Then he
spoke up. "It's not that I don't like you..."

"Then what's the problem? You've been acting strange since... since..."
Victor stopped to think for a moment. "Since we woke up together in my
bed." He remembered the stains on the sheets, and grinned. "Why, Mac! Did
you take advantage of me while I was drunk?"

"No!" The response was explosive and definite. Victor's grin just got
wider.

"Well, then, did *I* take advantage of *you*?"

"Listen, I *really* got to get going. Get some sleep and you'll make more
sense. 'Bye."

Victor found himself staring at his apartment door, as it slammed shut
behind the young man that had practically fled the room.

Very interesting.

* * * * *

A couple of hours later, Victor was lying in bed considering the
revelations of the day.

First of all, sometime during that alcohol induced blackout when Li Ann
had broke off their engagement, he had dragged his other partner partner,
Mac Ramsey, into his bed, and apparently had his "wicked way" with the
younger man.

Second, no matter what he had claimed the next morning, Mac remembered
exactly what happened.

Third, he must have enjoyed it, based on the erection he had been
sporting when he had pushed Victor to the ground to protect him from the
grenade earlier. It certainly indicated that he found Victor at least
attractive.

No wonder Mac was acting like he was scared out of his wits. Probably Mac
had always firmly considered himself straight, and wasn't sure how to
deal with the fact that a man, let alone *Victor*, was able to arouse
him. Victor could sympathize. The first time *he* had hit that
realization, it had felt like the entire world had changed, and he had
wanted things to go back to the way they had been. But he had adjusted.
He quickly learned that it didn't matter what sex his partner was. Either
was fun, albeit in different ways.

Idly, he wondered what would have happened if he had met Mac at the same
time as he met Li Ann. He was attracted to both of them, for many of the
same reasons. If he had met Mac first, instead of Li Ann, he would have
pursued the young man the same way that he had pursued the woman who had
been his fiancee. If he had met them both at the same time... he wasn't
sure which one he might of gone after. Of course, they were engaged until
they were separated during their escape from the Hong Kong crime family
that had raised and trained them, and he wouldn't have hit on someone who
was already taken. He had few inhibitions when it came to sex, but he
didn't break up other people's relationships.

Then he laughed. Mac had made no secret of the fact that he considered
Victor to be a boring, anal man. It must have shocked the hell out of him
to find that Victor wasn't quite the... fuddy duddy he thought he was.

So, what next?

Victor knew that his relationship with Li Ann was over. Since she had
"postponed" their engagement, they had slipped into a comfortable
friendship, despite the physical awareness. But even if she decided she
*did* want to get married after all, he didn't think he could go back to
the way they had been before. There would always be that element of doubt
to their relationship.

But he didn't like being alone, and his choices were limited. Li Ann was
out, by her own choice. The Director... He shuddered. That option was *not*
one he was going to consider. And working for a "shadowy government
agency" kinda cut down the options for outside dating.

But Mac? He was funny, if slightly juvenile. Someone Victor would trust
at his back in a firefight. Hell, the other man had tried to save him
from a grenade just that afternoon. And, of course, the man was sexy as
*Hell*.

So... he knew what he wanted. Now he just had to *get* it.

His grin got wider, again. This was going to be fun. Mac wasn't going to
know what hit him.

* * * * *

Mac stood outside Victor's building for a second, collecting his wits
before heading for his car. He couldn't believe just how close he had
come to throwing himself at the other man. The man that Li Ann had chosen
- for a while, at least - over him.

What the hell was going on? He couldn't even blame it on the booze,
anymore. Here he was, perfectly sober, and he *still* wanted to jump the
man's bones.

It was just adrenaline.

Right.

He did *not* want the man!

Shit. Maybe, if he just kept telling himself that, he might actually
start to believe it.

He headed for home.
 

----------------------------------------
The Seduction of Mac Ramsey
by Lianne Burwell
February 1998
----------------------------------------

Mac Ramsey was about to go nuts. Completely and totally nuts.

For the last few weeks it seemed like every time he turned around, Victor
Mansfield was always there. He snarled - Victor was still there. He
insulted the man - Victor was still there. He even tried hitting the man.
Victor just blocked the blow. And he was *still* there. Next to him in a
fight. Inviting him out for drinks. Flashing that gorgeous grin. And
always touching. Brushing past. Patting him on the shoulder.

Mac wished that he could find some way to get rid of the older man. He
had needed to switch to loose pants and long jackets, because it seemed
like he was constantly hard. At night he jerked off, trying to think of
*anyone* other than Victor, and failed miserably.

Why was this happening to him?

He started chasing women even more intently than before, often succeeding
in catching them, but it didn't do him any good. The last blond had even
stormed out in a huff. Apparently he had called out Victor's name at the
worst possible moment.

Sometime he wondered what might happen if he threw himself at Victor and
begged the man to take him. Then he shook his head. The only result that
he could imagine involved him ending up with a broken jaw.

* * * * *

"Hey, Mac. Want to go get a beer?"

"Nope. *I* have a date."

"Kerri again?"

"Nah. Kerri's history. It's Jessica now."

"Riiight. So how long will *she* last?"

"Hey! I'm young. I'm still sowing my wild oats!"

"One of these days you'll have to grow up. Settle down with *one* person."

"Suure. And what woman is going to put up with the hours *we* work? Let
alone not *knowing* what I do?"

"Maybe you're just looking in the wrong place."

What did he mean by that?

* * * * *

Mac grimaced as he pulled off his clothes. He dumped the once-nice outfit
in the corner to be taken for incineration, trying not to smell the slime
that caked it. Then he stepped into the locker room shower and turned the
water on as hot as it would go.

A cold draft ran across his back and he groaned as he saw Victor step
into the shower, naked as the day he was born. He refused to let himself
look at the other man, praying that the steam was thick enough to hide
his immediate physical response.

"What the hell *was* that stuff, anyway?"

Oh great. Now he would have to talk too? "Don't know. Don't think I
*want* to know."

"Good point."

Mac quickly soaped up and rinsed off, then tried to make his escape.

"You missed a spot."

"Huh?"

"You missed a spot. There's still a smear on your back. Here, let me."

Mac froze as a soapy sponge rubbed briskly at a spot above his left
shoulder-blade. Bit by bit, the pressure let up, until it was almost a
caress. He resisted the urge to lean into the touch by pure force of
will.

Then he jumped as a hand smacked his rear end.

"There you go. All clean."

Mac grabbed his towel and beat a hasty retreat. How the hell was he
supposed to get his spare pants on over this monster woody?

* * * * *

Mac hunched over his beer, trying to ignore the rest of the world. He
knew he was wallowing in guilt, but he didn't care. A gentle touch on his
shoulder brought him out of himself.

"You okay, Ramsey?"

He tapped his finger against the side of the beer glass. It was still his
first one, since he really didn't want to hide in a drunken haze. "Not
really. I've never had to do that before. I mean, shooting a terrorist
with a gun was one thing. Shooting an unarmed woman..."

"If you hadn't, she would have made it to that switch. Then you, I,
Li Ann and half a million innocent people would have died."

"I know. I just wish..."

"C'mon. Let's get out of here."

For once, Mac didn't argue. He just followed Victor, completely docile,
out of the bar to his truck. He didn't ask where they were going. He
quickly realized that they were headed for Victor's apartment. Perhaps he
should have objected, but he really didn't want to be alone.

Once inside the apartment, Victor took firm control. Mac found himself
pushed into a warm bubble bath for half an hour, then dried and wrapped
in a fuzzy robe. Food was placed in front of him and he ate mechanically.
Then he was slipped into Victor's bed, with the covers pulled up under
his chin. He fell asleep hearing Victor preparing to spend the night on
the sofa.

* * * * *

Sometime during the night, the usual nightmares woke him up partway. Warm
lips brushed his forehead, chasing the last of the dream away, and a soft
voice urged him back to sleep. He went willingly, comforted by the other
presence.

* * * * *

The next morning, Mac woke to bright sunshine. He stretched, feeling
completely relaxed for the first time in a long while. He wrapped himself
in Victor's robe again, and padded out to the main room.

Victor greeted him with a big smile and a cup of coffee. "So. Did you
sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did. Thanks." He sipped the coffee, then looked up. "ummm,
thanks for... chasing the... nightmare away." His face heated up in mild
embarrassment.

"All part of the service."

"I just don't understand *why*."

Victor frowned. "Because you were hurting. I don't like seeing people I
care about hurting."

"Yeah, but you don't exactly care a lot about me." Mac winced when he
noticed the slightly bitter tone to his voice.

By this point, they were both sitting on the sofa. They weren't quite
touching, but Mac could feel the warmth of the other man's body. The
hairs on his arm were standing up and he felt a need to shiver.

"Whatever gave you that idea? I care a *lot*." Victor shifted over a
little until they were sitting shoulder to shoulder. Mac could no longer
control the shivers running through him. His blood was running hot and
cold, and he could no longer misinterpret the signals the other man was
giving off.

"But you... Li Ann..."

"We were together. We aren't anymore. What does that have to do with you
and me?"

"But you... like girls!"

"And I like guys. I've known that since I was much younger than you.
You're an attractive man, a *very* attractive man. You're funny, witty, a
good man to have at your back in a fight. When you loose the sarcasm,
you're fun to be around. Why wouldn't I be attracted to you?"

Mac blushed. Victor reached over and brushed his fingers against Mac's
cheek. The stubble rasped loudly.

"Why don't you go shower and shave. I'll make breakfast."

* * * * *

Mac wiped the moisture off of the bathroom mirror as he started up the
electric razor. The face he saw was almost that of a stranger.

Victor *wanted* him. All he had to do was... ask. But did *he* want to?
All his life he had focused just on girls, especially since... But that
was long past.

He wanted Victor, but was he ready for all that being with him would
mean? He could keep on the way he was right now. He shuddered at the
thought of more one night stands with women who didn't understand. Didn't
know how to deal with the nightmares. Wouldn't put up with the broken
dates. With Victor, those problems would be gone.

But what about Li Ann. If she decided she wanted Victor back, what would
the other man do? If he went back to her, where would that leave Mac? Was
he willing to take that chance?

He laughed suddenly. Deep thoughts for a man standing in a towel shaving.
The real question was if he was willing to walk out of the apartment,
still wondering what it *could* be like?

* * * * *

When Mac went back out to the main part of the apartment he was still
wearing the robe, even though he had found his clothing neatly folded on
a chair in the bedroom. Victor didn't comment, just putting a plate of
scrambled eggs in front of him. Something "shoop-shooped" over the
speakers, while Victor sang about "it's in his kiss".

After breakfast, Mac offered to wash the dishes. He was elbow deep in
suds when he felt arms wrap around his waist. This time he didn't fight
the urge, and leaned back into the embrace. Victor chuckled into his ear.

"Does this mean you're going to let me seduce you?" the man said with a
smile.

"Yeah. How long?"

"How long what? How long have I been attracted to you? Since we met."

"Hah! When we met you tried to beat the crap out of me."

"Well, you were a stranger, standing in the middle of Li Ann's apartment.
What was I supposed to do? But you just looked so... adorable, standing
there holding that bunch of red roses."

Mac chuckled "And you were standing there with a bunch of white roses.
Anyway, that wasn't what I meant. How long have you been working at
seducing me?"

"Since that day when you brought me home after I got bashed by a crate.
When you flew out of here, I knew I was right about having... molested
you that time I was so drunk. I decided to see if you would be...
receptive. When my efforts resulted in constant hardons on your part, I
decided I was on the right track. I'm glad." Lips brushed below Mac's
ear, and he groaned. "C'mon, Mac. Let me make you feel good."

Victor lead him back into the bedroom, and he followed, more than
willingly. Victor quickly stripped his clothes off, folding them neatly and
placing them on top of the pile of Mac's. Mac couldn't help laughing at
the almost anal neatness being displayed.

But when the other man moved over to stand in front of him, he moved with
a feline, almost predatory, grace. He gulped as the other man undid the
robe's belt and slipped it off his shoulders, letting it fall into a
pool around his feet. Victor reached out to stroke his chest.

"Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful." Victor pinched lightly at the nipples,
until they stood as tight peaks. Then he leaned forward to flick at one
of them with his tongue. Mac felt a jolt run through his body, and he let
his head fall back. He groaned as he felt Victor fasten lips on one of
his nipples and suck.

Mac decided that it was time that he showed some initiative. He pulled
the other man over to the bed, and they lay down, side by side. He moved
forward to kiss Victor, using every skill he had ever learned. The man
tasted of orange juice and the spices that were in the eggs. The
smoothness of his face, and the faint smell of after-shave lotion said
that he had shaved before Mac had woken up.

Gradually, they moved closer together until they were pressed tightly
together, chest to chest. Mac pulled his mouth away with a gasp when he
felt Victor's erection brush against his own. Victor smiled at him.

"Shh. Let me make you feel good," he said again.

Victor rolled them over so that Mac was on his back. He started nibbling
his way down the young man, sucking and licking at the pulse point,
nipples, navel and anywhere else that looked to be sensitive. Then he
stretched out, full-length, over Mac, supporting most of his weight on
his forearms. He started to gently rub their groins together.

Mac moaned, and started thrusting back against the other man's movements.
He reached up, blindly, to grab the Victor's face, and pulled him down
into a deep kiss, the thrusts of his tongue synchronized with the
movement of their hips.

* * * * *

Victor gradually increased the tempo of his thrusts, until Mac was
writhing under him, out of control from the sensations. Then he reached
down to take both their cocks in a firm grip. That one touch was all that
was needed to tip Mac over the edge, and Victor followed behind him
quickly.

When their breathing had calmed down, Victor moved towards the bedstand.
Mac clutched at him, as though he thought Victor was going to leave.

"Just a second, love. I just want to get us cleaned up before we stick
together." He grabbed the damp cloth from where he had put it while Mac
had started the dishes. It was still slightly warm, and he used it to
wipe up the pools of semen. Then he settled back under the covers and
pulled the young man into a tight embrace. Mac snuggled in as closely as
he could. Victor wondered, briefly, what had made the other man so
insecure.

Then he slung one leg over Mac's, and they both slipped off to sleep.
 

----------------------------------------
Red Roses
by Lianne Burwell
February 1998
----------------------------------------

Victor Mansfield was in a bad mood. He had spent the day chasing down
leads on a case they were working on. Someone had stolen a truckload of
high-tech guns from a military convoy. While it was in transit. With *no
one* noticing. So far he had come up empty, but tomorrow was another day,
Scarlett.

He hoped.

He suddenly stopped in the act of tossing his jacket over the back of the
sofa. Sitting on his coffee-table was a vase he had never seen before. It
was delicate, obviously Chinese, and very beautiful. In it was an
arrangement of red and white roses. He smiled, remembering his first
sight of Mac Ramsey, standing holding a bouquet of red roses.

When Mac had been involved with Li Ann, he had always given her white
roses. When he found out she was working for the Agency, he had stolen
the information on where she was living, and broke into her apartment. To
surprise her, he had run around filling all the vases with white roses.
Only problem was that they were already full of red roses given to her by
Victor. When *he* had arrived, the result was almost a french farce.
Puzzled to find the vases full of white roses, with his red roses lying
beside them, he had started putting the red ones back. Then, as he moved
to the next room, Mac had come out and started changing the bouquets
again, not sure what was going on. Finally they had run into each other,
and had proceeded to try to beat each other up - while not damaging the
premises, of course - until Li Ann had arrived.

Victor stroked one of the roses, smiling at the memory, then headed for
the bedroom. Standing in the doorway, he admired the sight of a naked -
and very aroused - Mac Ramsey stretched out on his bed, rose petals
decorating his skin.

"Been waiting long?"

"Far too long," came the smiling response. "So why don't you get rid of
those clothes and come join me?"

Victor quickly stripped, dropping his clothes on the floor, just to see
the other man grin. Then he leaped, bouncing onto the bed next to Mac. A
mock-wrestling match ensued, leaving them both laughing and leaking with
arousal.

Finally, Victor managed to pin his lover to the mattress. He slithered
his way down Mac's body to suck on his cock. He worked at keeping the
suction from being too strong, running his tongue around the edge of the
head. In the few weeks since they had become lovers, Victor had worked
hard at mapping every single one of the younger man's erogenous zones.
The appreciative sounds that Mac made were more than worth the effort.

But he always made sure to keep his hands away from Mac's ass. Everytime
he had tried to touch the man there, Mac froze completely. Victor hadn't
pressed the man for reasons - yet - but he was going to have to, sooner
or later. He had also found out, the first time that Mac had spent the
night, that he suffered from frequent nightmares. Victor had a sneaking
suspicion that he knew what the signs added up to, and he didn't like it
*at all*.

He put it out of his mind for the moment, and concentrated on the task at
hand.

* * * * *

"Oh, man! I hurt like hell."

Victor winced as Mac stripped. The young man was already turning
spectacular shades of black and blue. They had finally tracked down the
fringe group that had stolen the weapons (would you believe they did it
with *mirrors*?) and had moved in. Unfortunately, someone taking a leak
outside had seen Mac and had managed to grab him. Victor and Li Ann had
rescued him, and recovered the stolen guns, but not before several of the
nuts had beaten Mac up. According to the Agency doctor, there were no
serious injuries, but he was going to hurt for a while.

"Climb into bed, love."

Mac headed for the bedroom, while Victor locked up. He threw a few of
those natural grain heat pads into the microwave for the required length
of time, then grabbed towels and a bottle of massage oil from the
bathroom. He wrapped one of the heatpads around the bottle of oil before
rejoining his lover. Mac was naked, lying on his side on the bed.

"Lie on your back, and let me rub some of those aches away." Mac turned
over, obediently.

Victor stripped down to his boxers, and moved to straddle Mac. He slipped
a couple of the heat pads under Mac, where the bruising was the worst,
then warmed his hand against one and poured some of the massage oil into
his cupped hand. He started to firmly stroke at the muscular chest
beneath him, keeping the pressure light, over the bruises, then increased
the pressure where there were none. After thoroughly massaging the area,
he repeated the process, rubbing in Tiger Balm this time. Then he moved
down the bed to give the legs the same treatment.

"Roll over, so I can do your back."

Mac hesitated for a moment, then turned. This time, Victor started with
the legs and worked his way up, still careful not to touch Mac's ass.
When he reached Mac's back, he had moved to sit beside Mac, instead of
straddling him. He was working the oil into Mac's back when he noticed an
unusual texture beneath his fingers. Leaning closer, he releazed that
there were scars on his lower back and - he could barely see - extending
down onto the buttocks.

"Mac, what are these scars from?"

Instantly the young man was as tense as he had previously been relaxed.
"I don't know what you're talking about." The delivery was flat,
completely unlike Mac's usual annimated tones.

Victor continued massaging at the hard muscles in the shoulders. "The
scars on your back. I can't force you to tell me about them, but I wish
you would."

Mac rolled away and curled up on his side. Victor climbed into the bed
and held him. "It's all right. You don't *have* to tell me anyhing."

"Michael."

Victor was startled at the apparent non-sequitor, then he frowned. "Your
foster brother? The one who was obsessed with Li Ann? What about him?" He
had a feeling he *knew* 'what about him.'

"He wasn't always obsessed with *her*." Mac shivered a little. "That's
the main reason I kept urging her to leave with me. Michael wanted her,
and I knew what that meant."

Victor was seeing red. "Michael forced himself on you?" Mac nodded.
"He... hurt you?" Mac turned in his arms and curled up against him.

"It started when we were both teens. He didn't look like it, but he was a
couple of years older than me. One night, when I was fifteen, I woke up
to find him in my bedroom. He said he wanted me. That he needed me. I was
scared - he had a dangerous temper back then, and he resented the fact
that his father cared so much for me and Li Ann. But I was also a little
flattered. I looked up to him back then.

"Anyway, I let him... It was nice at first. He was almost tender. Then
he started to get angry. Then he started bringing toys. He made threats
to make sure that I wouldn't tell his father. Then, suddenly, he stopped
coming. That was a few years ago. I quickly moved out, into my own
apartment.

"I never told anyone. Michael would have been furious, and he scares me.
He was never quite... sane."

Victor stroked the other man's back, soothingly. "Well, he's dead now.
He's not going to hurt you ever again. And I will *never* hurt you."

"Are you sure? His body was never found."

"Li Ann saw him drive off the edge of the road, into the water."

"But his body wasn't in the car! Sometimes, when I wake in the middle of
the night, I'm sure I'm going to see him standing there, waiting for me
to wake up. To do whatever he orders. Holding that damn whip. Carrying
that bag of toys that he liked to use on me. Shove up me." Mac was
trembling uncontrollably at that point, but his eyes were still dry.
Victor could see that he wasn't really focused on the here and now. He
started kissing Mac's face.

"Shhh. It's all right. He's gone. I won't ever do that to you. Nothing
you don't want. Shhh." Gradually, Mac started to relax. When the last of
the tremors were gone, he started to nuzzle at Victor's chest. Victor had
lost his erection while listening to Mac talking about his abuse, but now
he could feel both of them getting getting hard again. He wasn't sure
that they should do this, not with everything so fresh in Mac's mind.
Then a hand slipped inside his boxers, and he knew he wasn't going to be
able to resist.

Maybe...

"Mac"

"Hmmm?"

"Did he ever let you... fuck him?"

Mac raised his head to look at Victor in confusion. "Of course not. Why
would he?"

"Would you like to fuck me?" Mac was immediately shaking his head,
violently.

"No! I'd hurt you. I don't want to hurt you!"

"Shh. You wouldn't hurt me. I'll tell you what to do, how to do it right.
Here." He handed Mac the bottle of massage oil, then slipped his boxers
off and rolled onto his side, facing away from Mac. "Pour some of the oil
on your hand. Now, put one finger in my ass. Yes. Now move it around
gently. Oh yes, just like that. Now pull it out and pour some more oil on
your hand. This time put in two fingers. Open and close them, like
scissors, until the muscle starts to relax. Oh God!" Victor jerked in
Mac's arms. Mac immediately pulled away.

"I hurt you! Shit!"

"No, Mac. You just rubbed my prostate. It felt *good*. Like a flash
running through me. Come back, please. Now do that again, but put in
three fingers this time. Oh yes! Now, pour some of the oil on your cock.
Push just the head in." Victor hissed a little at the feeling. "Just hold
still while my ass relaxes. Hmmm. It's been a while. Now, push in
further. Slowly. Yes. More. More!"

When Victor felt Mac's balls against his ass, he couldn't hold still
anymore. He started undulating back and forth against the other man. He
reached back to grab Mac's hand and brought it around to his own cock.
"Touch me. Please!"

Mac started jerking him off, while he thrust harder and harder. He was
practically whimpering into Victor's ear. Then he froze, and came with a
sob. A couple of last tugs was all it took to finish off Victor as well.

* * * * *

Mac clung to Victor, his breathing still erratic. Gradually, he felt
himself slip out of Victor. He wished he could have stayed there forever.
The idea of someone putting something in his ass still scared him, but he
couldn't deny that Victor seemed to have enjoyed it.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

The sound that Victor made was almost a purr. Pure satisfaction. "Never."

"Do you... want to... do me?"

"Someday. When it doesn't scare you so much. When you want me to."

"What if I never do?"

"Then we won't. You can keep doing me."

Mac cuddled up close again. Tears leaked from under his lashes, falling
on Victor's chest. He wished he could really believe that Michael was
really gone forever. A few ghosts had been exorcised, but not all of them.

Maybe someday.
 

----------------------------------------
Drowning Sorrows Again
by Lianne Burwell
February 1998
----------------------------------------

Mac Ramsey stared into his glass, looking for answers in the alcohol. He
didn't think he was going to find any, but he was certainly going to try.

"I still can't believe you were going to marry her, Mac."

Mac refused to look at Victor. In the corner of his eye, he could see
Li Ann and the Director talking intently. "I told you, I wanted some
stability in my life. Change."

"But what about me? Mac, I love you, and you were just going to walk
away!"

Mac snorted, then took a gulp from his glass. "Yeah, right. C'mon, Vic,
we both know that isn't true."

"What do you mean?"

"A couple of months ago, you were in love with Li Ann."

"I'm not anymore, if that's what you're getting at."

"Right! You *were* in love with her, then *poof* you aren't Now you say
you're in love with me. How long until you aren't?" He shook his head, as
Victor opened his mouth. "Don't say it. If you want to keep sleeping
together, fine. The sex is great, I can't deny that. But don't try to get
serious, cause we both know it won't last. That's why I was going to
marry Claire. I thought we had something that *could* last."

He finished off the glass, then signaled for a refill.

"I'm not setting myself up for this kind of grief again."

* * * * *

Victor shook his head. He had been horrified when Mac had announced that
he was getting married. Still, he had arranged a stag party (such as it
was), and promised to stand up as first man, while still trying to track
down the missing uranium. The fact that Mac's wife-to-be was the main
suspect in the case hadn't helped.

But, the whole time, he had been dying inside. Li Ann dumping him had
hurt like hell. Finding out that *Mac* was dumping him was even worse,
and he wasn't sure why, but he had hidden it. Now Mac was saying that he
didn't *trust* Victor's feelings? Didn't believe him?

Maybe he should have shown the hurt.

Meanwhile, he was going to have to prove to Mac that he did love him. It
would be a longer, and far more difficult campaign than seducing the
beautiful young man, but he was going to give it his best shot. He
certainly wasn't going to give up without a fight.

Not this time.

* * * * *

"She did love me, y'know. She couldn't shoot me."

Victor grunted an affirmative as he supported Mac down the hallway. He
propped Mac up against the wall, next to his apartment door, then he
paused. He didn't have a key to Mac's apartment, and he didn't think
that it would be a good idea to go fishing through the man's pockets.
Instead, he pulled out a lock-pick and used it to jimmy the door open.

"She had the gun. She coulda shot me easy. She didn't. Maybe she shoulda."

"Don't talk silly, Mac."

Inside, he quickly and efficiently stripped his lover, then tucked him
into bed. In the kitchen, he made up a glass of the Mansfield Secret
Recipe Hangover Remedy. He placed the glass, along with a couple of
aspirin on the bedside table, then sat down and propped Mac up.

"C'mon, Ramsey, upsy daisy. Trust me, you're gonna be miserable in the
morning if you don't drink this."

Mac waved the glass away. "'M already miserable. Don' wan' it. Wanna stay
miserable."

"Please?" Victor put all the pleading he could into his voice, but trying
to keep it light.

A little more coaxing, and Mac finally swallowed the aspirin, and the
hangover remedy, making gagging noises at the taste. Hopefully he would
feel better when he woke up. Then Victor tucked the man back under the
covers and got up to leave. A hand shot out to grab his.

"please don't go," came the whisper.

"This wouldn't be a good idea." But he didn't pull away. He had planned
to sleep on the sofa, but he knew it was damned uncomfortable.

"I don't want to be alone tonight." Mac was starting to sound a little
more sober, already, but his eyes were closed. Victor sighed.

"All right." He stood up long enough to strip down to his underwear, then
slipped under the covers. Mac rolled into his arms, and Victor stroked
his hair. "It's going to be all right. You'll see. I'm not going anywhere."

A snore was the only response.

* * * * *

When Victor woke up, Mac wasn't there. He got up and headed for the
living room. He smiled, remembering the time they had spent locked up in
the apartment with Dobrinsky after Nicholas Love had started killing off
male agents. The most frustrating thing had been the fact that they
hadn't been able to fool around with the third man there. They had over-
compensated by annoying the hell out of each other, trying to keep
Dobrinsky from realizing they were involved. They had probably failed
miserably.

"Morning." Mac was holding out a coffee mug.

"Morning, yourself. Feeling better?"

"A little."

Victor was disturbed at how lifeless Mac looked. Yesterday's events had
really hit the man hard. He drank the coffee, silently, and waited for
Mac to say something. Mac wandered over the window.

"I was wondering. D'you think she knows?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think she knows we're sleeping together?"

"Who, Claire?"

"No! The Director."

Victor frowned. "Why would she know?"

"C'mon, Vic! She knows *everything*. Sometimes I think she has
everybody's apartments bugged, or something."

Victor laughed. "I think you're getting paranoid, man. I doubt she would
bother bugging her own operatives." Mac snorted. "If she did, wouldn't
she have said something by now?"

"Maybe she's just waiting for the right moment. Or the worst moment,
which, for her, would be the same thing."

"Are you saying you want to end everything? Not have anything to do with
each other outside of work?"

"No. Like I said, the sex is really good."

Victor sighed. He thought about pressing the point, but decided that it
really wasn't a good time yet. "So what *do* you want to do?"

"I want to go to bed." Mac moved to stand in front of Victor. "Do you
want to come with me?"

Victor considered for a moment, then followed him into the bedroom. They
both slipped out of their underwear and came together in the middle of
the bed. Victor wasn't sure that this was a good idea, but both of them
needed the contact. He responded, eagerly, to the kisses. Up until now,
Mac had been surprisingly passive. That was obviously at an end. He liked
the change. It was about time that the "old" Mac reasserted himself.

When Mac rolled him over onto his stomach and prepared him for entry, he
didn't resist . He was a little surprised at how tender Mac was with him.
Considering Mac's mood, he had expected a rougher ride, but instead it
was slow and tender. When they both came, it was quietly.

Idly, he wondered if maybe Mac was right. Did the Director know? Did it
really matter?

Then they both fell asleep.

* * * * *

The Director looked thoughtful, as she popped the tape out of the VCR,
then placed it with the others. The records for her favorite team were
getting quite bulky. She hadn't been kidding about liking the sexual
tension dynamic in a team, but this might damaging.

But she might as well allow it to continue - for now. It was possible
that Victor could keep Mac from getting *too* out of hand.

Well, she doubted that.

Still, you never know. It was interesting seeing how they behaved around
Li Ann these days. Besides. The tapes were great entertainment. And if
there ever was a problem? Well... the Cleaners had been assigned to deal
with these sorts of problems before.

She popped a kernel of popcorn in her mouth and cued up the next tape.
Maybe next time she should invite Li Ann to join her. *That* might be
*very* interesting.
 

----------------------------------------
Temptations
by Lianne Burwell
February 1998
----------------------------------------

Victor lay on his bed, staring up and the ruined light fixture, and
wondered just how he had managed to get himself in this mess. He had
almost lost his friends, and nearly gotten himself killed at the same
time.

Victor had always wondered why Mac and Li Ann were so hung up on the
Tang family. Sure, they had been raised by the family, and stole for the
family, but why were they so obsessed?

Now... he had an idea of how they felt. He had started out infiltrating
the mob on orders from the Director, but he had found the family
atmosphere to be... addictive. He didn't have any family right now,
except Li Ann, who had dumped him, and Mac, who didn't believe that Vic
was in love with him. Then, suddenly, he was being embraced by a family
that *wanted* him. And he had fallen for it.

And it had almost gotten him killed.

When the knock came at his door, he knew that it had to be Mac. Mac
probably wanted to yell at him for been a fool, and he deserved it. So,
he got up and opened the door.

Yep. It was Mac.

"So, Vic. How do we feel today?"

"If you're here to yell at me, get it over with." Victor closed the door,
as the grinning man entered the apartment.

Mac's grin gentled a little bit. "Nah. I'm still pissed about you not
being there to back me and Li Ann up, but the rest of it? I understand."

Mac sat down on the sofa. "It sucks you in, doesn't it? Sometimes, a
betrayal is the only thing that can make you break away."

"The voice of experience?"

"Hey, I'm not just an immature jerk, y'know."

"She does know. You knew that."

"What do you mean?"

Victor pulled Mac up off the coach and into the bedroom. He pointed at
the shot-up remains of the overhead light fixture. "She called me up to
tell me to get out of the assignment. I wouldn't pick up the phone. She
said she wasn't guessing when she said that I was there, and started
describing exactly where I was and what I was doing at the time. You
knew, didn't you."

Mac sighed. "Yeah. When I told her I was getting married, she started
quoting things I told Claire. She said I was an agent living in a secured
building, in an apartment owned by the Agency, so what did I expect? That
was one of the main reasons I wanted to get away."

"So. Now what."

'We ignore it? Maybe she just enjoys the show. Or we sweep our apartments
every day. Wait for her to say something. Whatever. Just do me one favor."

Victor frowned. "What's that?"

"Keep that blonde twit away from me!"

Victor blinked at the sudden change of subject, then grinned. "I thought
you *liked* blondes."

Mac shuddered. "Except her! She *scares* me, man. That chick is
*totally* nuts. I can't believe that the Director wants us to work with
her!" Victor snickered.

"Anyway, that's not why I'm here. *I* am here to cheer *you* up, so get
dressed and let's *go*."

* * * * *

Mac had been worried when Victor opened the door. The older man had
looked so... lost. He had planned to teasing the man for a while for
falling for the trap before dragging him out, but he had quickly changed
his plans.

He sympathized with Vic. Leaving the Tangs had been his choice, while
Victor had been betrayed *big* time. Mac had been with the Tangs for
years, while for Vic it had been a very short time. Still, the hurt was
the same.

Forget the teasing. He just wanted to get Vic smiling.

* * * * *

"Ah, c'mon Mac. You've *got* to be joking." They were standing outside of
one of those Hong Kong restaurants that Mac and Li Ann were always going
to.

"Live a little, Vic. You never know, you might *like* it, horrifying a
thought that might be." Mac stared at him expectantly, grin glued all
over his face, while Victor stood considering it. He happened to like the
American version of Chinese food. He didn't really want to try the
"authentic" version that Mac was always going on about, but if it would
help convince Mac that he was serious...

"All right. But no squid, you hear me?" Mac just grinned at him.

* * * * *

Actually, it ended up being a great evening. Victor was surprised to find
out that he enjoyed the food, not that he was going to admit that. He had
still refused to try the squid, no matter how much a production Mac made
out of eating it. However, Mac's production of sucking the sauce off of a
teensy squid had left him partly nauseous, and partly aroused.

Then Mac had dragged him off to a music club. Victor had groaned,
inwardly, at the thought of listening to that modern junk that Mac called
music.

Instead, it turned out to be a blues club. He wasn't even sure how Mac
had found the place. The music had been fantastic, and so had the
company. Mac had even seemed to enjoy the music, despite the sarcastic
comments. Who knows, maybe the younger man was discovering that they had
more in common than they thought. That - maybe - they could coexist as
more than the "friends who sleep together," or whatever, that he seemed
to want to keep their relationship as.

Certainly, Mac was a lot more relaxed than he had been since his ill-
fated attempt at getting married.

At the end of the evening, Victor had been surprised to find that his bad
mood had completely evaporated. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was to get
his partner home, and into bed.

* * * * *

The cab dropped them off in front of Victor's building in the wee hours
of the morning. Neither man was really drunk, merely mellow, but neither
was going to risk driving. The Agency's penalties for getting arrested
for drunk driving were... to be avoided. Especially since Dobrinsky was
in charge of punishment, most of the time. They were heading for the door
to the building, when a car came screeching around the corner.

"Hit the deck!" Victor shouted as he reached for his gun. They both
ducked behind a handy pillar near the doors, guns drawn and safeties off.
Bullets slammed into the pillar as they dived for it.

"Who *are* they?" Victor shouted.

"How the hell should *I* know? They're outside *your* building, so maybe
*you* should know." They fired on the vehicle as it headed around the
corner, then it was gone. They stood up, looking in the direction that
the car had gone.

"Well, I suppose *that* better get reported."

* * * * *

As soon as they reached Victor's apartment, he phoned in the shooting to
the Agency. He listened for a moment, then hung up.

"So. What did they say?"

"They said that they would send forensics to collect the bullets outside.
Nathan will start checking anyone who might have a grudge against me and
is currently out of jail. In the meantime, we're to stay put."

"We?"

"We."

Mac groaned, and Victor was tempted to do the same. He was beginning to
wonder if there was *anyone* who didn't know about the two of them. It
wasn't a comfortable feeling.

In the meantime, he had a massive amount of adrenaline to work out, and
from the way Mac was fidgeting, so did he. Victor watched him for a
moment, then launched himself at the other man.

"oomph! What the...?" Victor decided to take advantage of the open mouth,
diving in for a very thorough kiss. Mac resisted for a second, then
started cooperating.

"Seems to me that *someone* is a little horny. What say we move this
party into the bedroom. At least we know the camera in *there* isn't
working."

"Assuming it's the only one. Don't care. Still, bed *is* a lot more
comfortable. Let's go." Victor jumped to his feet, then dragged Mac up
and into the bedroom. Once there, he threw Mac on the bed, then stripped.
Just for the heck of it, he turned it into a show, teasing the young man.
The grin - as well as the growing bulge in the dress slacks - told him
that the show was appreciated.

Victor straddled Mac, and started undoing the buttons on his shirt.
"*You* are wearing *far* too many clothes," he purred as he stripped the
other man. Mac never seemed to dress casual. It was always fashion-plate
suits, and silk shirts. It did make stripping him a lot of fun, though.
He kissed, nibbled and sucked at each bit of flesh as it was revealed. By
the time Mac was completely naked, he was doing a pretty good imitation
of a puddle.

Victor was doing his best to rub himself all over Mac's body, when the
younger man surged, and flipped him over. "I'll have to remember how much
bullets flying turns you on, Vic. Maybe the next time we come under fire
in an alley I'll just take you against the brick wall. Would you like
that?" Victor moaned, as Mac sucked a hickey into life on his neck. He
was *really* getting to like having an aggressive Mac in his bed.

Mac moved up his body to straddle his head. His cock was hard and
flushed, right in front of Victor's face. He reached up and pulled the
head into his mouth. Running his tongue around the edge, he listened for
the moans to tell him what were the right places that night.

"Oh, yeah! Just like that. Suck it hard." Mac dug his fingers into
Victor's hair, not finding much purchase in the short-cropped locks.

Victor exercised his tongue, energetically, letting Mac control the
rhythm, only using his hands to keep the eager hip thrusts from going too
far. The dirty talk just encouraged his efforts to new heights. It didn't
take long for Mac to explode, and Victor swallowed, milking it out as
long as possible.

Mac slid back onto the bed, a boneless heap. Victor rolled him on his
side, facing away from him, and slid his own neglected cock between Mac's
thighs. The other man froze.

"Nothing you don't want," he whispered in an ear. "Just squeeze your
thighs together, that's all. Oooh!" He began thrusting, muscled thighs
providing the friction necessary. Each thrust bumped at the back of Mac's
balls, causing groans. After he finally came, he snagged his shirt to
wipe them up. Then they curled up in the tangled nest of covers and to go
to sleep.

"I *definitely* need to remember how much gunplay turn you on," Mac
muttered in a sleepy voice as he drifted off. Victor just grunted, in a
completely satisfied way.

* * * * *

"Well, as yet there are no leads on who fired on you last night. Nobody
has been released from jail recently that might bear a grudge." The
Director prowled behind the three operatives, frowning. "The markings on
the bullets don't match those used in any other crimes that the computer
can find. Neither of you saw the license plate numbers on the car, and
there were no witnesses - not surprising, considering the hour." She
raised an eyebrow, silently commenting on just *why* the two men were
out at such an hour.

"Of course, even though the shots were fired in front of Victor's
building, there is the possibility that they were intended for Mac." She
leaned forward to purr in his ear. "After all, Mac recently made a
mistake that let the Tangs know that he and Li Ann were still alive.
Mr Tang *might* still be angry enough to send someone after him." She
pinched his cheek, hard enough to make him wince.

"Of course, if it *is* the Tangs, then Li Ann will also be a target. As a
result, we will need to be more careful. Jackie, you will be moving in
with Li Ann, for the time being." She ignored the groan from the petite
oriental, and the grin from the blond ex-mob queen. "As for you two boys.
Obviously Victor's apartment is compromised, so, for the meanwhile, you
will move in with Mac. I'm sure neither of you will object." She patted
Victor on the shoulder as she went past. The two men sighed, then nodded.
"Good. In the meantime, you still have a job to do, so get moving."

She smiled watching them leave. Sometimes she felt like such a
matchmaker. But, they still needed to find out who wanted one of her
operatives dead, which one and why. She called in Dobrinsky, with the
files, and prepared for a long afternoon.
 

----------------------------------------
Innocents
by Lianne Burwell
March 1998
----------------------------------------

Victor got out of his truck with a sigh. Getting away from the Rivers had
been a relief. A night spent drinking "ta-hootie fruitie", as they called
it, watching the "boys" play twister and trying to fend off the roving
hands of Mrs. Rivers had been worse than his idea of hell. But then, that
was why the Director had sent him there.

But he'd finally managed to make a graceful escape, without upsetting any
of that crazy family. Hopefully he'd be able to avoid running into them
in the future. Now he was finally heading for home and bed. More
specifically, *Mac's* home and *Mac's* bed. He'd been living there since
someone had tried to kill one, or both, of them. There had been two more
attempts since then, but only when they were together, so they still
didn't have a clue who the actual target was for. In case the Tangs were
behind it, LiAnn had stayed with Jackie for a couple of weeks, but there
had been no moves against her, so they had been able to go back to
seperate apartments before they managed to kill each other, but Mac and
Victor were still living at Mac's place.

Not that he objected, of course. He was using it in his campaign to
convince Mac that what they had was more than just sex, and could last
long-term.

He paused at the door, remembering what had happened when the Rivers boys
had pointed the guns at them, apparently about to obey Mr. Smith's orders
to kill them. He remembered the sudden tug at the cuffs joining them as
Mac pulled them around so that Mac was facing the guns and Vic was on the
far side of the pillar.

Mac may *say* that he didn't love Victor, but his actions said otherwise.

* * * * *

Mac was finally drifting back to sleep. Having the Director show up in
his bedroom, wearing vinyl and lace, was like something out of a
nightmare. She thought that leaving him was the punishment. Truth was,
having her *in* the bed was more of a punishment. Suddenly, he felt the
other side of the bed dip, and he threw himself off the wide, grabbing
for a weapon. This time she was *not* going to paw him.

"Hey! What the..."

"Vic?" He poked his head up over the edge of the bed, not letting go of
his gun. He sighed in relief when he saw his partner, putting the gun
back in the side table.

"Of course it's me. Who else would it be?"

"Well, an hour ago it was the Director, so you tell me." Mac climbed back
into the bed and pulled up the covers. "Never mind. I just want to get
some sleep." Mac closed his eyes, curled up on his side facing away from
Victor. He couldn't help smiling, though, when a warm, naked body pressed
up against him. He started to drift off again.

"Mac?"

He groaned. "What?"

"Why Angie?" He could hear curiosity, with a tinge of pain. He rolled
over to face Victor, trying to figure out how to put it into words.

"It wasn't *who* she was, it was *what* she was." Mac could tell that
Victor didn't understand. "My earliest memories were of my father using
me as a prop in one of his cons. While I was still a kid, he disappeared
one day, leaving me alone on the streets of Hong Kong. The Tangs took me
in, but immediately started training me as a thief. I was a cynic before
I even knew the word. LiAnn was sold to a brothel by her parents when she
was a child. When old man Tang bought the building, he sent all the girls
home, but he adopted LiAnn because she tried to pick his pocket. Neither
of us was ever innocent." He could feel the comprehension dawning in
Victor.

"Then there's you. Ex-cop who's seen everything. None of us are
innocents. OK, you're naive at times. Too trusting, but not innocent. No
one in this damned organization is an innocent!"

"But Angie was."

"I know, it sounds crazy. But... for a while... I mean, they were like
something out of a sixties sitcom, even if they were thieves. For a while
I could pretend... I know... it doesn't make much sense..."

"It makes a lot of sense, Mac. I understand." As the arms wrapped around
him, pulling him in tight, Mac realized that Victor was telling the
truth. He did understand. Just like his experience with the mob let him
understand how Mac and LiAnn felt about the Tangs.

"Vic?"

"Mmm?" came the sleepy reply.

"About stealing the diamond..."

"It was fun, wasn't it?" Mac could almost *see* the grin in the dark.

Yep. Vic understood.

* * * * *

Victor woke the next morning to warm sunshine streaming through the
windows and the delicious feeling of someone licking his nipples. He
shifted with a sigh.

"It's about time you woke up, old man. I thought the elderly were
supposed to need less sleep."

"Watch the 'old'. I'm not *that* much older than you." He bit back a moan
as Mac's chuckle vibrated his nerve endings. Mac switched attention from
one nipple to the other, while wrapping one long hand around Victor's
cock.

He kept trying to participate, but Mac was doing a very good job of
keeping him distracted. Obviously the young man was in a playful mood.
Finally Victor gave up on trying to show any initiative, letting Mac have
his way. He moaned when he felt slick fingers start to probe him. He
moaned again when they stopped.

"What...?"

"Why... why do you act like that feels good?"

Victor struggled for coherence. "'Cause it *does*. God, Mac, please...
Don't stop!" The fingers started moving again, while a tongue teased at
his erection. It didn't take long for climax to rush in.

Mac wrapped around him, as he labored to regain his breath, lights
flashing behind his eyelids. Mac was *damn* good at that.

"Vic?" He opened his eyes to look at Mac. "How can that feel good?" He
sighed.

"Mac... Did you know that there's as many nerve endings in your ass as
there are in your cock?" Mac shook his head, looking confused. "Properly
done, anal penetration can be as enjoyable as having someone stroke your
cock." He could see the disbelief on the other man's face.

"Michael..." He could see the flinch on Mac's face. "When he penetrated
you, what sort of preparation did he use?" Silent confusion. "You stretch
me before penetration. Did he do that for you?" Head shake. "Did he use
lubrication?" Another head shake. Victor sat up, suddenly.

"You mean he just went in dry!?" Nod. Victor felt the rage spread.
"Christ, Mac. Did sex with him ever *not* leave you ripped and bleeding?"
Head shake.

"Oh God! No wonder you don't understand. You've never had the *right*
kind of experience."

"Show me?" Victor looked over, shocked. Mac had never offered before.

"Mac... we don't *have* to... I don't *need* to..."

"Please. I've been wondering... You *look* like you enjoy it..."

"Because I *do*!"

"And I want to see *why*. Please?"

Victor sighed. It *was* something he wanted, but Mac wasn't really ready,
no matter what he might say. He could feel the tension in the lean body.
But maybe they could work up to it.

"How about just fingers, for now?" Mac seemed relieved, disappointed and
tense, all at the same time. "Relax. Nothing you don't want, just like I
promised before. Now, why don't you roll onto your back and try to relax."

Mac did roll over, but tension was written all over him. Victor knew that
if Mac *didn't* relax, he wouldn't be *able* to enjoy it. He got out of
the bed and went into the bathroom to grab a bottle of baby oil. Climbing
back into the bed, and poured some into the palm of his hand.

"Mac, I'm just going to give you a massage. It'll help you relax."

"You make a *damn* good masseuse." The humor in the tone was promising.

"Oh, I have *lots* of talents."

He started with the feet, moving his way up, keeping his touch firm, but
soft, not trying to arouse. He stopped at the top of the thighs, not
approaching the groin, then started from the neck and worked his way back
down. Mac was soon purring under the attention.

"Roll over so I can take care of your back."

Mac rolled over, but some of the tension had returned. He had expected
that. Again he worked the legs, up to just below the curve of the ass,
then moved up to the base of the neck. He was straddling Mac, but propped
himself up high enough that his own genitals wouldn't brush against the
body beneath him.

This time he didn't stop when he reached Mac's ass. Instead, he continued
to massage, using firm, but impersonal strokes. Gradually he slowed them
until they were more light caresses. He let his hand drift closer and
closer to the crevasse between the cheeks. Mac didn't seem to notice,
been half-asleep again. Victor rubbed his thumb, lightly, up and down the
crevasse until Mac was squirming.

"Does that feel good?" A moan was the only answer, so he increased the
pressure slightly, still not doing more than rub across the sensitive
anus. When he pulled his hands away, Mac made a noise of protest.

"Easy. I'm just getting some more oil on my hands." He made sure that his
hand was well coated before he went back to the stroking motion. This
time, though, he used even more pressure, and rubbed his index finger in
a small circle around Mac's anus.

"Mac, I'm going to slip one finger in. It won't hurt." Mac tensed
slightly, but nodded. Victor kept up the circling motion, pressing harder
with each pass, until the tip of his finger slipped past the tight
muscle. Victor held still until Mac realized what had happened. As he
realized there was no pain, Mac relaxed. Victor started moving the
finger, ever so slightly, in a thrusting motion. Mac moaned.

When he felt Mac trying to move back against the finger, Victor started
moving it in a circle, loosening the anal muscles. Once he was happy with
the slackness, he added a second finger, keeping to the same motion. He
couldn't tell if Mac had noticed the addition.

He crooked the fingers, searching, until Mac bucked under him. Bingo!

"Oh God!"

"That's your prostate. Remember how good I said it makes you feel? Am I
right?" Mac didn't answer. He was too busy thrashing around at the
sensation.

"Mac, roll over again." Mac protested as the fingers slipped free, but
turned over, obediently. His cock was fully erect and leaking. Victor
slipped his fingers back into Mac's ass, then bent his head to take in
Mac's cock. By this time, the young man had lost all semblance of
coherence.

Victor knew that Mac wouldn't last long, so he set himself to bringing the
other man to orgasm. When Mac froze, arching up off of the bed, he was
yelling Victor's name. Victor moved to pull Mac into his arms, nuzzling
at his face and neck.

"Well?"

"That was... incredible. It was..." Mac stopped, obviously unable to find
the words.

"Yeah, it was, wasn't it?"

Mac snorted. "You don't have to be so damned modest about it."

Victor just grinned. "C'mon. It's almost time to get going, and we both
need a shower."

* * * * *

Mac was whistling as he got out of the sports car. It had been a great
day. They'd stopped a gang that had developed a new, and highly-addictive
drug. Then, when they'd reported back to the Director, he had learned
that Dobrinsky had gotten food poisoning, and would be off for a week.
Now, the day was done, he was home with dinner from his favorite Hong
Kong style restaurant. From the pickup truck parked a few spots down, it
looked like Vic was already upstairs. Life was good.

He was headed for the stairwell when three men came out of the shadows.
Somehow, he didn't think they were there just to say 'Hi'. Maybe it was
the ski masks rolled down over their faces.

"Let me guess," he quipped as he carefully placed the takeout bag on top
of the car next to him. "You're in town for a Thugs-R-Us convention."

The only response was an attack, coming from three directions
simultaneously. Mac lashed out with a snap-kick, striking the man on his
left in the solar plexus, dropping him to the ground immediately. Without
stopping, he spun to strike at the second man.

Unfortunately, he wasn't able to move fast enough to stop the blow from
the third man from impacting with the back of his head. As he went down,
the first kick hit him in the ribs. Thankfully, everything quickly went
black after that.

* * * * *

Victor was putting one of his tapes into Mac's ridiculously over-powered
sound system when he heard the thump against the apartment door. He
froze, pulling his gun from it's holster. Mac was late, and he was
starting to get a little worried.

He went to the door, and peered out through the peep-hole. Nothing. He
eased the door open, gun ready and safety off. What he saw shocked him.

"Mac!?"

* * * * *

Mac slowly swam back to consciousness. He could hear voices.

"How is he, doc?" Victor. God, he loved that voice.

"Two broken ribs, and three cracked. Sprained wrist. Massive bruising,
but no internal bleeding. Probably concussed." Ouch. Sounded like someone
got put through the wringer. Oh, yeah. *He* was the one who'd been put
through the wringer.

"But he's going to be all right, isn't he?" LiAnn. You'd almost think she
was worried about him.

"Yes. He just needs time to rest and recuperate." That was a relief.

"Mac. Wake up." The Director. Of course she'd be there. He managed to
pull his eyelids open. They felt like they were made out of lead.

"Mac. Who attacked you? Did you see them?"

Answering was difficult, but he managed. "Three men. Waiting. In the
garage."

"Describe them."

"Black."

"Negro?"

"No. Black pants. Black shirts. Black jackets. Black gloves. Black masks.
Black."

"Can you give me something a *little* more useful?" She sounded
exasperated.

"Shorter. Couple inches. Well built. Like Vic? Similar." He thought about
it for a moment. "One. Blue eyes. Others... brown. One oriental? The
eyes. I think..."

Suddenly, staying awake required too much effort, and he drifted away
again.

* * * * *

"Mac? Mac!" The doctor pulled the Director away, ignoring the glare she
aimed at him.

"You'll have to leave now. We'll keep him overnight for observation, but
he should be able to go home tomorrow." With that, he firmly pushed them
from the room.

Out in the hallway, the Director nodded at the agency stationed outside
the hospital room. "Well, I'd say we now *know* that Mac is the target.
LiAnn, start pulling the records on every case Mac has worked on. Look
for anyone who might match the descriptions Mac gave." She paused. "Pull
Mac's prison records too. See if anyone with a grudge from Hong Kong has
been released recently. Victor, work with the forensics team checking the
parking garage. When Mac goes home tomorrow, stick to him like glue. I
have no intention of loosing any more agents this year. Love was bad
enough. Now *move*."

They moved.

* * * * *

Late that night, the window to Mac's hospital room opened, and a figure
stepped through. If anyone had seen, they would have been amazed, since
the room was on the fifth floor, and the windows weren't supposed to be
able to open.

The figure stepped to the bedside and looked down at the sleeping man.
The mouth curved into a cruel smile, and a hand reached out to caress
the bruised face. Then the intruder turned, and went back out the window,
sealing it again. Only one word had been spoken.

"Soon."
 

----------------------------------------
Choices
by Lianne Burwell
May 1998
----------------------------------------

Mac took a deep breath, releasing tension with it, and moved into the
opening moves of the kata. Move flowed into move, block and counter, and
his mind emptied as he flowed around the room, until he had reached peace
at the completion of the exercise.

But then he stepped out of the final position and winced. He still hurt
from the beating he had taken, and the events since then hadn't helped.
He felt... unsettled. Like he was facing disaster. Or facing a choice.

Choices.

Like hanging from a burning rope, terrified that he would drop. Even
more terrified that the antenna that Vic was hanging from would give way,
Waiting for LiAnn to choose who to save.

When she chose to save Vic, he hadn't been sure *what* to feel. Relief
that Vic was safe? Anger that LiAnn had made her choice, and it wasn't
him? Or just fear as the rope gave way? As he grabbed for the brick face
of the building, he could hear Vic calling his name. When he pulled
himself up onto the roof, the tear tracks on Vic's face had shocked him

LiAnn had practically jumped through hoops, trying to make it up to him
later. He hadn't done much to reassure her. Like he'd said, you can't
unmake a choice. He was more concerned about Vic, though he tried not to
let it show. The tough ex-cop had clung to him in silence that night.
Then they'd been thrust into a new assignment before they could really
deal with what had happened.

And what an assignment. Guarding a drunk who wasn't a drunk. Harry had
played them all for patsies, including the Director. Assassin delivery
boys, feuding sets of children, neither batch terrible bright, a crime
lord's legacy, a bomb, and LiAnn having to chose who to save. Again.

Only *this* time, she *hadn't* chosen. She'd turned her back on the two
gunmen, trusting her partners to save her. If they hadn't both had backup
guns that Harry *hadn't* know about... She'd taken a terrible chance.
Both she and the Director had said something about there always being
a third door, whatever *that* meant.

And no sooner was that done, one of Vic's old choices had come back to
haunt him, and Mac hadn't been able to be there to help him. Instead,
he'd had to guard a ditzy fur-coat designer at his own apartment. A ditzy
designer who was dating one of the Cleaners, the Agency's top assassins.
She'd drugged him and handcuffed him to the bed with a message written in
red on his *feet*, for crying out load. Even worse than that was having
the Director show up to let him look. As far as he could tell (and he
wasn't trying very hard), all she'd been wearing was that fur coat,
stockings and high-heeled shoes.

It was weird, but he'd never known how Vic got dragged into the Agency.
Turned out that he'd been in the same boat as Mac. They'd both been
forced into a choice by their "families" - the Tangs for Mac and the
police for Vic. They'd both ended up in jail as a result of that choice -
Vic because he'd been framed by his "family". They'd both been offered a
choice by the Director to join the Agency or else - else Mac would be
released onto the streets of Hong Kong where he'd die, and Vic would
*stay* in jail. They'd both chosen the Agency,

He still wasn't sure why *LiAnn* had joined the Agency, though.

But Vic's choice had come after him, and had nearly gotten him killed. Of
course, that wasn't as bad as getting shot by a gang of *clowns*, but
still... He'd woke Mac with nightmares the night before. He was brooding
and moody. Mac had found a copy of a picture of Vic in uniform (good
thing he lost the mustache) on the coffee table that morning. Someone -
probably Vic - had drawn a clown's face on it. A sad clown. Mac was
worried sick, but he didn't know what to do about it.

Mac headed for the Agency showers. This time of the morning the place was
empty, so he didn't have to worry about anyone else turning on a shower
or flushing a toilet. As a result, he could turn the water on as hot as
he liked. He waited while the heat relaxed sore muscles. A glance down
showed the last bruises fading from his body. He still kept his ribs
taped, but he was almost healed.

Choices.

There *was* a choice that he'd been thinking about. One that scared him,
thrilled him, made him flush with heat. A choice that had been a while in
the making. A choice he thought he was finally ready to make.

Tonight.

* * * * *

Victor rolled over in the bed and looked at the clock. His attempt at a
nap had been a dismal failure. Insomnia was making his life hell.

Closing his eyes just led to a steady stream of nightmarish images. Mac
lying in the hallway outside the apartment, beaten to within an inch of
his life. Mac in that hospital bed. Mac hanging from that burning rope.
Mac falling to his death, even though *that* hadn't happened. Not to
mention those *damned* clowns!

Add to that his run-in with his old copy buddies/betrayers, and it was
obviously leading to a lot of sleepless nights. He'd even considered
taking sleeping pills, except that Mac's attackers were still on the
loose. Not to mention whoever had cut through the hospital room window.
They wouldn't even have known about *that* if Dobrinsky hadn't leaned
against it, sending the glass plummeting to the ground. Thank God that no
one had been underneath the window.

Mac would be home soon, once he finished the errands that the Director
had sent him on. With attacks at both apartments, it hadn't really
mattered where they slept. They didn't even *have* to buddy up any more,
but they did, automatically, when they weren't playing bodyguard to
someone. They switched back and forth between apartments on a whim.
Tonight, they were staying at Victor's place, because he wanted his own
kitchen. He planned on cooking dinner for Mac. His last attempt, while
they were guarding Harry, had been a disaster, but that was because Mac's
kitchen was woefully under-stocked.

Well, he might as well get started, rather than lie here and brood.
Victor rolled out of bed and headed for the kitchen.

* * * * *

Mac opened the apartment door and stopped, letting it swing shut behind
him. The air was filled with the scent of... curry? It smelled pretty damn
good, too. He locked the door behind him, then moved further into the
apartment. The dining table was laid out with linen and fine china. Vic
was lighting the candles.

"Great! You're just in time."

He stepped in close and pulled Mac into a deep kiss. When he stepped away
again, Mac had to stiffen his knees to keep them from buckling. Vic was
too damn good at that. Vic brushed a finger across Mac's lips, and he
couldn't stop them from parting. Couldn't stop his tongue from darting
out to tickle the finger.

"He was wrong," came a whisper.

"Huh?" Thinking was not really a priority when all the blood had rushed
to the groin.

"Harry. He called LiAnn 'the exotic beauty with lips that could change
weather patterns'. That doesn't describe her, it described *you*."

Mac was embarrassed to realize that he was blushing. Then Vic stepped
away with a grin.

"Anyway, dinner is ready, so sit!"

* * * * *

Mac was surprised at how good dinner was. Curry chicken, saffron rice
with raisins, a drink made with yogurt instead of wine or water. It was
completely unlike what he usually ate, but it was *good*. Plates were
cleaned, compliments were made, the disaster of a kitchen was cleaned.
Low music played on the stereo providing a pleasant backdrop.

Nothing was said, but they moved as one towards the bedroom. Mac stripped
Victor first. The dress shirt in that ridiculous shade of green came off
first, followed quickly by his undershirt. Then his jeans were undone,
and slipped down over his hips. Mac knelt to remove them, taking Vic's
shoes and socks off with them. He nuzzled at Vic's cock for a moment,
amazed at how natural it felt now. Back when he was in prison he'd had to
fight to keep from being *made* to do this, but here he was, eager to do
it. Maybe that was the difference. It was his *choice* now.

Vic pulled him to his feet and proceeded to kiss him senseless. Then he
pulled at Mac's clothing. Silk shirt and dress pants were removed from
his body, and tossed in a corner. He knew he'd have to take them to the
dry-cleaners to get the wrinkles out, but he really didn't care right at
that moment.

The bed had been freshly made with crisp, clean linens, and the covers
had been folded back in anticipation. Mac shifted, enjoying the contrast
between the cool sheets beneath him and the warm body above. He gave into
the sensations, not caring if half the Agency was watching them. They'd
taken to sweeping both their apartments for bugs and cameras, especially
the bedrooms and bathrooms, but just because they'd found some of them,
that didn't mean they'd found them *all*.

But that didn't matter. He was too busy memorizing Vic's body with his
hands again. Every inch was touched and caressed. Mac knew that no matter
what he said, he had fallen hard for Vic. All pretenses otherwise were to
protect himself against the inevitable pain when Vic changed his mind.
He was sure that if LiAnn beckoned, Vic would go back to her in a flash.
He said he wouldn't, that Mac was the one he loved, but still...

But that didn't really matter right now. He'd take what he could get.
What mattered now were choices. Mac rolled them both over and reached for
the lube sitting on the bedside table. He took Vic's hand and poured some
into it. Vic smiled as he reached out to coat Mac's cock, but the younger
man fended him off. Instead, he landed back on the mattress beside Vic
and rolled onto his stomach, pillowing his head on his forearms.

Vic hesitated. "Are you sure about this Mac?"

Mac nodded. "I'm sure. I want to. Just... go slow, okay?"

Vic leaned over and kissed his partner's shoulder blade. "Slow and
gentle. Nothing but pleasure," he promised.

Mac tensed a little as the slick fingers teased at him, but he relaxed,
remembering how much he'd enjoyed having Vic's fingers in him before. One
finger, then two. That was familiar. Three fingers, though, brought on a
moment of pain, and he tensed up, but Vic was patient, stroking his ass
cheeks and gently sliding his fingers so that they rubbed his prostate,
until he was loose and relaxed and moaning.

Then the fingers were gone, and he felt the peculiar sensation of cool
air inside of him. The space was quickly replaced, though, with something
large and solid, hot and slick. He groaned and shifted, then froze as he
realized what it must be. He reached back, feeling his way with his
hands, to find that Vic's cock was already a couple inches inside of him.
They held still for a moment, while Mac discovered that it didn't hurt.
Then he pushed back, and Vic slipped in a little further.

Inch by inch they moved, until Mac could feel Vic's balls against the
curve of his ass. For long moments they held there, Vic with his arms
wrapped around Mac, until neither could hold still any more. Vic started
to thrust, slow and gentle, like he had promised. The slight friction
not stopped by the lube, caused a warmth that spread through Mac' mid-
section. Then there was the electric shock of his prostate being touched.

Mac pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, wanting to get better
leverage, and starting pushing backwards into the thrusts. A slick hand
gripped his cock, drawing a shout from him. They were moving faster, now.

"Vic! I can't hold on any longer!" His muscles trembled with the strain
of trying to hold back. The hand on his cock picked up the tempo.

"Then come for me, Mac. Fill my hand up. Come for me, love."

A tongue licked the sweat from his neck, and Mac arched and shuddered,
calling out Vic's name. He could feel his muscles spasming around Vic's
cock, buried deep inside of him, and felt a flood of warmth inside. Vic
had come too. This was nothing like he'd ever felt before. Like fire
rushing through him, burning but not harming.

When Vic pulled out, Mac couldn't suppress a moan of disappointment. Vic
pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Did you enjoy?" There was a small tone of anxiety in the other man's
voice.

"Mmmmm..." Mac replied, satisfaction plain. Maybe they were right. Maybe
you *did* just need the right partner.

As he drifted to sleep, he heard Vic murmur against his forehead.

"Love you."

But he was asleep before he could respond.

* * * * *

"See! I told you."

LiAnn pushed back from the table and the listening equipment there. When
Jackie had taunted her, claiming that Mac and Victor were lovers, she'd
refused to believe it. But Jackie had claimed that she'd gotten an earful
when the Director had told her to run surveillance on Mac, and had
offered to prove it. She'd accepted, not expecting it to be true.

"So they're lovers. So what?"

Even to her own ears, she sounded defensive. Jackie just smirked, and she
had to fight the urge to wipe the expression off the blonde's face.

Okay, so she was still a little confused about how she felt about the
guys. After all, she'd worked like hell to keep Mac from marrying that
blonde bitch with the nuclear grenade. But then she'd run to save Victor
when she'd had to choose who to rescue first.

She was still trying to figure things out, and she'd foolishly thought
that the guys would wait until *she* had decided. The fact that neither
seemed to date a woman more than once, and even seemed to try to *avoid*
women, except for her, had just reinforced that assumption. Finding out
that they were... together. That changed... everything.

Distracted, she left the room, not bothering to notice the appreciative
once-over that her "partner" gave her as she left.

Once she was gone, Jackie put the earphones back on and leaned back in
her chair. After all, they sometimes went for a second round later.

* * * * *

In another room, at another table, a man pushed back from a video screen.
On it, in fuzzy black and white, two men lay on a bed, wrapped around
each other so tightly that the watcher couldn't tell where one ended and
the other began, fast asleep. He picked up his glass and drained it. The
glass impacted the wall, hard, spraying the area with tiny shards.

"You're *mine*, Mac Ramsey, and I keep what is *mine*."
 

----------------------------------------
Family
by Lianne Burwell
May 1998
----------------------------------------

Mac watched with a grin as Vic continued to shower advice on his little
sister. Alice - or Allegra, as she preferred to be called - took it all
in stride, just rolling her eyes as her brother continued to warn her.

"And if there's any problems, *call* me. I'll be there as fast as a plane
can get me there."

"Give me a break, Moose. I'm quite good at taking care of myself, you
know."

"Right. That's why you were delivering a bomb."

"I didn't *know* it was a bomb!"

"No, but you were at Pinball Couriers because you overheard us talking
about them and bombings at the same time. Put two and two together,
Alice."

"Allegra!"

"Whatever."

Luckily, Alice's flight was called at that moment, so Alice hugged her
brother, then hugged Mac.

"Take care of him," she whispered.

"I do my best," Mac whispered back. He and Vic had taken her out to
dinner before the flight and it hadn't taken her more than a couple of
minutes to figure out what was up between her brother and his partner.
She hadn't even blinked at finding out that her big brother was bi, just
said it was cool with her.

The both waved, cheerily, as she boarded the plane, then turned to head
for Vic's truck. Mac slung an arm around his partner's tense shoulders.

"Cheer up, Moose," he said, ignoring the muttered 'Don't call me Moose'.
"She'll be fine. This Leadership Corps has an excellent reputation. I
checked."

Vic looked a little surprised at that. "I know," he said. "It's just... I
don't like the Agency taking such an interest in her."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the Director was going on about how 'promising' she was, using
aliases at such an early age, and all."

Mac frowned for a moment. "You think she plans on recruiting Allegra -
sorry, Alice - in a few years?"

"Yeah. I mean, I don't *like* the Agency. It uses assassins. It uses
blackmail to get its agents to work for them. Even when it does good, it
still scares me, and I don't want them anywhere *near* my little sister."

"I know what you mean. Well, I'm sure that between us, when the time
comes, we'll be able to figure out a way of preventing it."

Vic smiled at that. "C'mon. Let's get going. I have been going nuts, not
being able to be with you while Alice was around. Not to mention having
to watch her throw herself at you at every opportunity."

"Hey, she only did it once. Besides, she already figured out that we were
sleeping together."

"She did?" Vic stopped dead, turning a deep red. Mac just grinned and
dragged him towards the truck.

* * * * *

Despite Victor's comments, they ended up spending a very quiet evening.
Victor was watching the late news - something he did almost religiously.
Mac was lying on the sofa, his head on Victor's lap, reading a book in
Chinese. Victor didn't know what it was about, and he was almost afraid
to ask. After all, Mac might *tell* him. But, all in all, the scene was
positively *domestic*.

Mac shifted against his thigh, then put the book down.

"Vic."

"Hmm?"

"I was wondering..."

"Yeah?" Victor turned his attention to Mac. The younger man sounded...
uncertain.

"I was talking to Alleg... Alice while you were checking on her flight.
She said something about you leaving home real young. She said it had
something to do with your dad. What was it? I mean, you don't have to
tell me anything, if I'm out of line. I don't exactly have the greatest
father-son relationship in the world, but I wondered... Never mind.
It's none of my business."

Victor lay a finger of Mac's lips to stop the flow of babble. "I don't
mind. We just didn't get along. I wasn't the son he wanted. He wanted a
doctor, or a lawyer - someone he could show off to the neighbors. I
wanted to be a cop, which *wasn't* something he considered brag-worthy.
We fought a lot. When I was eighteen, I told him I'd been accepted at the
police academy, he took a swing at me. Almost broke my jaw. I walked out,
and never went back. The only time I ever heard from him after that was
when I got put on trial. He wrote a letter to tell me what a dismal
failure I was, and how disappointed he was in me, and saying he no longer
*had* two sons, just one."

"Just one? You have a brother?"

"Yeah. He's a couple years younger than me. Jonathon. He's a sleaze-bag
corporate lawyer. Just the sort of son that dad wanted. Anyway, Alice was
only about two when I left home. Mom sent me letters and pictures, so
that I could stay in touch. I wrote Alice a lot, and whenever dad was out
of town on business and Jonathon wasn't around, I'd take Alice out for
the day. Just because dad and I didn't get along, didn't mean I didn't
want to be part of my sister's life. That ended when I went to jail. I
hadn't seen her since."

"Well, now that she knows what you've been up to, you can keep in touch
again."

"I know. I just wish she were going to be... closer."

Mac rubbed his cheek against Victor's leg. "C'mon," he said. "It's late,
and we need to get to work in the morning. Bed-time for Moose."

"Don't call me 'Moose'." But Victor was smiling as he said it.

* * * * *

Mac rolled over, and off the bed.

"Hey, what the..." He sat up on the floor, sputtering, then froze. This
wasn't his bedroom. It wasn't Vic's bedroom. It was...

Hong Kong Prison. His old cell.

"Wake up Ramsey. Time to go."

Mac looked up at the shadowy figure in the guard's uniform. "Go? Go
where?"

"Where do all convicted criminals go?"

Mac turned around, slowly. Behind him was an electric chair. He whirled
around to find himself back in that nut case's kangaroo court.

"You have been found guilty of crimes against society, and the penalty
is... death."

The guards grabbed his arms and dragged him towards the waiting chair.

"No. This isn't happening. It's just a dream. It's just a dream," Mac
repeated to himself.

"Excuse me."

Mac looked to see the Director. "Thank God!"

"You don't think you can stop us, do you?"

The Director frowned. "Why would I stop you? He's just a criminal, after
all. And a rather incompetent one, too. And as a agent, he is a dismal
failure."

"I left the family because of him, and look where it got me." LiAnn?

"And, like, he's just so *lame*." Jackie?

"Wait a second," he protested. "They're going to *kill* me. You can't let
that happen!"

"C'mon, Ace. Take it like a man." Dobrinsky.

"You don't think the Agency cares, do you? You're just a jackanape
agent." The Cleaners.

Mac's head whipped around, but everyone was ignoring him. No friendly
faces, until a figure stepped out of the shadows. Mac sighed in relief.

"Vic! You gotta help me!"

"Why should I? C'mon, Mac. You've been using me for all these months,
after all. Good old Vic. Great in bed, but that's all I want."

"That's not true! I love you!"

"You never said so before, so why should I believe you now?"

"Because it's true!"

"No it isn't. 'The sex is great, I can't deny that. But don't try to get
serious, cause we both know it won't last.' Isn't that what you told me?
No. I need someone who *really* loves me. Who'll commit to me. Someone
who'll be there for the long run."

"I'll be there," Mac whispered, his face crumpling.

Vic stepped back, and LiAnn and Jackie immediately latched onto him. He
slung his arms around the shoulders of the girls and watched,
expressionless, as the guards strapped Mac into the chair.

"This isn't happening. It's just a dream," Mac told himself. "This isn't
happening. It's just a dream. This isn't happening. It's just a dream."

He was still repeating the phrase when they pulled the lever.

* * * * *

"Mac. Mac! Wake up!" Victor shook the shoulder of his thrashing bed-
companion. Mac sat up suddenly, almost knocking him over. "Mac! Are you
okay?"

Mac shook his head and ran a hand over his sweat-covered face. "Yeah.
Just a bad dream. Sorry I woke you."

Victor was a little dubious. "You wanna talk about it?"

Mac looked like he was going to say no, but then he slumped back onto the
bed. Victor pulled him against his chest and cuddled him.

"Memories."

"Michael?" Victor could have kicked himself. He shouldn't have given in
to Mac that night. Mac had enjoyed the sex, but the trauma was so deep-
set...

"No. Prison. And that fake courtroom. The chair. It was all muddled
together, They were going to kill me. Everyone was there, but no one was
going to save me. Not even you."

Victor flinched. "Yes I would."

"I know that. It was just a dream. Personal fears, and all that. But you
know what really got me? The Cleaners."

"The Cleaners? You dreamt about the *Cleaners*? Now *that's* scary."

Mac snorted. "They said 'You don't think the Agency cares, do you? You're
just a jackanape agent.' And they're right. The Agency doesn't care. They
blackmail us into working for them. They pay us next to nothing. The
Director told me, once, when I complained about her having keys to my
apartment: Your clothes, your life. The Agency owns it all."

Victor shivered - it was an accurate, but uncomfortable idea - but Mac
went on. "And what do we have to look forward to? Winning in the Agency
Awards? That's bullshit! We've only seen two cases, so far, where people
were allowed to retire, and that was because they were too nutso to be of
any use. Let's face it, Vic. If we continue with the Agency, all we
*really* have to look forward to is an early grave.

"And it's changing us. A few years ago, LiAnn wouldn't have hit me. At
the couriers, when I asked you to hit me, to keep my cover intact, you
hesitated. She didn't. She almost knocked me unconscious. That's *not*
the old LiAnn. It made me wonder: if I stay here, what am I going to
become. I don't like that thought. I..." Mac sighed. "I want out, but
they aren't going to allow it, will they?"

Victor closed his eyes. "No. I don't think they will."

"Sometimes I get a little scared, thinking about it."

"Me too."

They lay together, quiet, after that. Mac's head resting on Victor's
chest, over his heart. Victor's cheek resting against the dark hair. As
he drifted back to sleep, Victor felt, more than heard, a soft voice
against his chest.

"And I *do* love you."

But they were both asleep again before he could respond.

* * * * *

When Victor opened his eyes, bright sunlight was streaming through the
windows. Mac was still curled up, half-blanketing him. He looked over at
the clock.

"Shit!" he said, sitting up. "We're late. *Really* late."

Mac sat up, rubbing at his face.

"Huh?"

"We were supposed to be there more than an *hour* ago. C'mon, partner.
Move!"

Victor tried to hurry his Mac up, but didn't have much luck. Bathroom,
brush teeth. Then Mac headed for the shower.

"We don't have *time*," he snapped at Mac.

"Too bad, Vic. I'm covered in dried sweat, and I stink. I am going
nowhere without a shower. You could use one too, y'know. C'mon," he said
with a grin. "We can share. Save water, and all that."

Victor knew it was a bad idea - the two of them in a shower inevitably
led to... - but he let Mac coax him into it. They *did* both smell a
little strong, and they didn't have time to take separate showers, but...

They deliberately kept the water temperature tepid, to try and wake
themselves up. Victor started to use a sponge to soap himself up, but Mac
took it out of his hands and started to do that for him.

"Mac... We really don't have time for... mmm..."

Mac was ignoring him. First Victor's back was covered in suds. Then, Mac
pressed up against Victor's back and reached around to wash his front.
The strokes were firm, and no-nonsense, but they left his skin tingling,
and his cock was rising at attention. The erection pressed up against his
backside felt like it was burning hot, compared to the water.

When he was done, Mac pressed the sponge into Victor's hands and stepped
back.

"Your turn," he said with a grin.

Following Mac's lead, Victor started with the young man's back and legs.
Like Mac, he used business-like strokes that left the skin clean and
pink. He was pleased to note that a swipe up the cleft of Mac's ass
resulted in a shiver, but not the terrified tensing that might have
occurred a month or two ago.

When he was done with the back, he turned Mac around and leaned him up
against the shower wall. He put fresh soap on the sponge and started on
the chest. The thick, dark hair held a lather beautifully. The sponge was
run along the underside of Mac's arms, and Victor leaned in to take a
deep breath, inhaling the scent of soap and Mac, a heady combination.
Next was the stomach, and Victor slowly dropped down to his knees. As he
washed Mac's legs, he leaned forward to nuzzle the erection in front of
his face, making Mac groan.

"Damnit, Vic! Drop the damn sponge and get up here."

Grinning, Victor stood up and pressed Mac further into the tiled wall.
Kissing, they started to move against each other, already lubricated by
the cool water and remaining traces of soap. Neither one of them was in
the mood to drag it out, so they traded off sucking on each other's
tongues, while their hips moved together in a rhythm that was very
familiar now and when orgasm came, it was very, very sweet.

They clung together under the spray, letting the water wash away all
traces of their activities. Victor chuckled.

"Now we are going to be *really* late. The Director is going to be really
pissed off. And she'll probably know *exactly* why we're late"

Mac snorted. "So what's she going to do? Fire us? But let's get going,
Moose."

"Don't call me Moose!"

* * * * *

The Director looked up as Mac and Vic entered the room. "You're late,"
she snapped. "Sit down."

They took their seats, across the table from Jackie and LiAnn. Mac was
trying to cover a grin when he noticed that Jackie was smirking at them,
almost leering. LiAnn looked... uncomfortable.

The Director stood up and walked around the table, a bundle of envelopes
in her hands.

"Well, children, it looks like we have a lead on who's been trying to
remove Mac from the game."

All four agents sat up. In the weeks since the first shots were fired at
Mac, no clues had been found, even *after* he'd been put in the hospital.

"Well?" Mac asked, a little impatient at the Director's casual posing.

"It seems that someone you... know... was released from Hong Kong prison
two months ago. He arrived in Toronto three days before the first attack,
then disappeared. We have people looking for him, as well as trying to
find out how he would have known you were here."

"And this person would be..." Mac prompted, getting more than a little
annoyed.

"Kevin Chang."

Mac gave a sharp exhalation, like he'd been gut-punched, and slumped back
in his chair. The other three just looked puzzled. The Director turned to
them.

"Kevin Chang was in prison for drug smuggling. While there, he developed
a taste for handsome young men, and a *dis*taste for 'no's. According to
the prison records, he tried to... attack Mac. The result was a broken
arm, a broken jaw, two cracked ribs and a badly twisted knee. On his
part, that is. Mac was only bruised, and was put into solitary
confinement at that point - for his own protection, of course. That was
about a week before I went to see him. Apparently, Chang was quite
miffed about the whole business. Swore revenge, and all that." She gave
an airy wave of the hand, eyes focused on the folder in front of her.

"Anyway, here's his information. Do keep an eye out for him."

She slid a bundle to each of the agents, then left the room. Vic opened
his and winced. "Ick. 5'11", built like a professional wrestler, scar
down the right cheek, tattoo of a dragon across the neck. You're not
going to miss seeing *him* walking down the street."

"No," Mac said. "He's rather... unmistakable. And he *wasn't* one of the
men who attacked me. Doesn't fit the body types."

"Well... maybe he hired some muscle."

"You've got to be joking. Not his way of working. He prefers to do his
dirty work himself. Enjoys it to much to give it to someone else."

LiAnn frowned. "Well, maybe he *knew* you'd recognize him. Whoever it was
obviously wanted you to survive. Maybe he's... playing first?"

The two men glared at her. "*That* is a *gruesome* idea, LiAnn."

"But a possibility," she shrugged.

All of them stared at the pictures for a long moment. Finally, Vic spoke
up.

"Well, let's keep our eyes peeled."
 

Got to Drowning Sorrows Part Two