Fire-Born Child

My guess is that no one ever had to explain any of this to Bobby Hobbes; he was probably born knowing which part of the flame had his name on it. Maybe that's why this partner thing between us works, despite all the reasons it shouldn't. We both know the color of our madness.

Watching the needle slide into his flesh as if his arm belonged to someone else, Darien said lightly, trying to hide his worry, "Better hope this goes down without any problems. Selling that whole government agent thing is tricky on a good day; with all the needle tracks on my arms, the local cops are never going to believe I'm anything but a junkie."

Eyes on the green liquid as it disappeared into his partner, Hobbes matched his tone and said, "If that's the case, my friend, you go with the nice uniforms quietly; no going see-through. Better we rescue you from a holding cell than the psycho ward. This is the last of the care package Keepie set up for us."

"You've got the trank darts close, right?" Darien asked, glancing into the empty case on the dirty mattress.

"Relax, it's only a few more hours until The Agency breaks up this little pervert party," Bobby said calmly. "It's gotta be a strain keeping both of us out of sight the past couple of days, but it'll be worth it when we get those kids out of there. Not to mention the look on that bastard's face when he realizes that even his country draws the line at kidnapping little boys and hiding behind diplomatic immunity."

"Too bad their conscience didn't extend to actually giving us permission to enter the embassy. Or maybe even the layout so we could have skipped spending three days scoping the place out," Darien muttered sourly, wincing a little as his partner withdrew the needle. He bent up his arm, massaging at the entry point and flopped back on the mattress.

"Believable deniability," Hobbes said absently, picking up the tranquilizer pistol and looking it over one more time before tucking it back between the make-shift bed and the wall. "His government is going to deny that we came in and got him, and our government is going to claim that he wasn't taken here. All that matters is that those kids get rescued and the sonovabitch gets deported. My bet is his own people will assassinate him before he gets home. We'll get the blame, but you can't have everything."

"And the Fatman gets some major brownie points with a senator who's on the funding committee by saving his son," Darien told the ceiling. It was amazingly filthy: strung with cobwebs filled with dead leaves and insects, along with a year's worth of dust. The small cottage had probably been a nice place when the gardener or chauffeur or whoever had lived in it. That had been a long time ago, to judge by the broken windows and ramshackle walls, not to mention the six inches of dirt on the floor. All the unauthorized renovations to the embassy itself to hide the ambassador's little secrets had probably left the budget too tight to provide upkeep, not that the guards minded since they regularly used the place to either catch a few z's or make out with the ladies on the housekeeping staff.

Taking his gun out of its holster and giving it yet another check, Hobbes said, "I still can't decide if that perv has balls of steel or is just in his own category of stupid. I mean, a *senator's* kid? He either didn't know or just didn't care because he thought that the U.S. wouldn't dare think he was behind the snatch. Or do something about it if we did guess who did it."

"Didn't count on Dad knowing the Fatman personally," Darien agreed, not surprised when his partner began double-checking their radio equipment. Hobbes had his own way of coping with what was going on in the massive mansion a few hundred yards away from them. Who was he to say that his partner's way was worse than his? Personally, he was almost hoping for a case of quicksilver madness, just as he and Hobbes were setting up to bring out the ambassador's harem of stolen children.

"Personally, I'm not leaning toward the stupid theory," Hobbes said, apparently just to keep the conversation going. "This is one of the best defended establishments I've ever seen; nothing between the fence and the house except empty lawns so no sneaking up or surprise attacks, regular patrols even out here where there's no chance of an intruder, state of the art surveillance equipment and security equipment."

"Hey, we're here," Darien protested.

He was rewarded with a gloating grin from Hobbes, who shrugged with his hands. "We, my friend, are a step or two above state of the art anything." His mood swung abruptly, and he asked, "You hanging in there okay? The Keep was worried about side effects from you staying see-through so much, not to mention taking me with you."

"Been better," Darien said. "Even with the fresh shot, I feel edgy, trapped; keep wanting to check myself out in the mirror and make sure I don't have red eyes."

To his surprise, Hobbes shot him a penetrating stare, his mouth a tense line that relaxed only when he saw for himself that Darien was his usual self. He had the grace to duck his head and say apologetically, "Sorry, sorry - I'm a little gun shy after that business with stage five madness."

"Can't say as I blame you," Darien said softly. "You know I'm counting on you to stop me from hurting anybody if that ever happens again, right?"

"You can bet on it, partner." Hobbes swung his fist out for Darien to punch in the first step of their own personal high five, then added, "Except maybe for the mimes."

"Well, yeah, mimes - no loss there, right?"

"No loss; in fact, in my opinion you should have gotten a medal for that, Fawksie."

"A medal?"

"Commendation at the very least," Hobbes said definitively.

"I'm not sure that'd be right; I've wanted to do something like that for years, strictly personal gratification involved. One of the first things I thought of when I started turning invisible."

Perking up with interest, Hobbes said, "Really? Hey, ever wonder why they do that shit to start with? I mean...." He broke off mid sentence, head snapping around. "Nappy time for someone, I think."

"Crap." Cold clawed up his back as quicksilver flowed over him, and Darien snagged his partner's hand to let it cover him as well. After three days they had the drill down pat. Hobbes stood and Darien slid his grip to his friend's elbow, then to the small of his back to grab the back of his pants, giving both of them a reference point to each other's position. As soon as that was done they stood to one side of the door, exiting after the two guards came in, chatting idly in their own language.

Once the door shut behind them, Hobbes murmured, "May as well start getting ready for tonight's party."

"Works for me," Darien agreed. "Fence, first?"

They set to work creating a gap in the electrically charged fence that ran along the stream at the back end of the embassy's property, using wire to by-pass the security system so the hole wouldn't show. They'd chosen the spot because the cameras that scanned that particular area couldn't see the bottom of the chain-links for a dip in the landscape though they would have been in plain sight themselves if not for the quicksilver. It only took a few minutes for them to accomplish their task, then without discussion they headed for the gates to set a small charge on the hinges that could be blown when the time was right.

From there they went to the part of the building where the guard force was stationed with the intentions of putting a similar charge on the communication equipment there, but halfway down the hallway to the office, Hobbes began to slow down, clinging to the wall even though no one could possibly see them. "Smells wrong, smells wrong," he muttered to himself.

Hanging back, willing to admit at least privately that his partner had much better instincts for this sort of thing than he did, Darien whispered, "We're ahead of schedule. This can wait, if you think we should check things out some more."

"Yeah, maybe." Uncharacteristically Hobbes dithered, not going forward but not retreating either, and Darien could hear him nervously tapping his fist on his upper thigh. "Yeah, let's back off; take five back at the cottage. Guards should be through with their naps by now."

He set off at a trot that picked up to a run, then skidded to a dead stop in the cabana next to the pool behind the house. Bumping into him, Darien nearly fell down, taking his partner with him, but Hobbes salvaged them both with a powerful jerk backwards.

"Hey!" Darien protested, keeping his voice down by pure will.

"Want to make sure no one is following us," Hobbes muttered. He turned in a small circle, and Darien imagined he could almost see him peering up at the windows of the embassy and back the way they came.

"In case you hadn't noticed," Darien said sarcastically, "We're invisible; they don't know we're here."

"Unless they've got their own invisible agent," Hobbes said seriously. "The gland's not as much of a secret as the Official might want. Who knows who Arnaud has talked to or who's been spying on the Chinese, learning our secrets from them?"

Baffled and worried, Darien said, "And a child-molesting ambassador is going to get that kind of protection, even though his own government has said we can do what we want as long as there's no scandal?"

"Double cross," Bobby said positively. "Politicians always double cross you when they can." He gave a gentle tug. "Come on, partner. I didn't see any shadows coming this way, and the sun's behind a cloud so ours can't be seen now."

A shiver that had nothing to do with quicksilver chased over Darien's skin, though he followed after his friend obediently. All the way back to the cottage Bobby kept abruptly stopping and spinning in place, as if to catch someone sneaking after them. Despite the pauses, he ran so fast that Darien was breathless when they finally reached the relative safety of the cottage, and all he wanted to do was fall down on the mattress to wait for his heart to either stop beating so frantically or quit entirely. Hobbes wasn't having any part of that, shoving him up against the wall to hold him in place with his own weight.

"Not yet, not yet. Got to make sure there's no booby traps or bugs," Bobby muttered, patting Darien in the middle of his chest. His gun was in one hand, and there was a trembling in the other where it rested on Darien's chest that shot his growing worry straight through the roof.

As Bobby dragged him around the small room, clearly searching high and low for who knew what, Darien said tentatively, "Hey, partner. You know you're not working at one hundred percent here, don't you?"

Bobby didn't say anything at first, but went on with his search. After a moment though, he admitted quietly, "Maybe not one hundred percent, but not too bad, not too bad."

"Want to tell me what's going on with you?" Darien asked, carefully keeping his tone intimately encouraging. "Maybe you need your meds?"

"Took the dose the shrink said to use," Bobby said, with a rattle of the pills in the bottle he carried everywhere. "Sure of that. You saw me take them, right, Fawksie?"

"Matter of fact, yeah, but you know it's been a hard couple of days. A boost can't hurt can it?" Holding his breath, Darien waited for his partner to process that, fear for his friend beginning to slither its way through his worry.

The pill bottle rattled again and Bobby said slowly, "No, no I don't think so. The stuff dulls the edge, and most of the time, that's okay, I can work around it, but we need every advantage we can get here. Last thing we need is for me not to be at the top of my game."

"We don't need you wearing yourself out jumping at every mouse chewing in the woodwork or owl hooting outside the window, either," Darien argued carefully.

"I can handle it," Bobby said evenly, but there was a stubborn bite under the words that warned against pushing the issue.

Uneasily Darien let it drop, and asked instead, "So are we okay in here? I don't know about you, but I'm thinking the guards have the right idea about taking a siesta."

"You go ahead; I'm going to review the layout of the compound, double check on our plans, make sure we didn't over look anything."

Bobby walked away from him, shuddering once, hard, and shedding quicksilver as he retrieved the laptop from its hiding place. Hardly aware of the glittering shower falling from his own body, Darien watched him go, trying to pinpoint exactly what it was about his partner that was bothering him. Then Hobbes turned to sit on the floor cross-legged, giving Darien a good look at his face. "Oh, crap," Darien swore softly. Bobby's eyes were a study in red and black, though not filled completely with madness, yet.

At his words Hobbes glanced up, though his fingers didn't still on the keyboard. "What?"

Judging that his chances of bringing down an agent as skilled as his partner were zero and none, Darien reluctantly opted for his least favorite strategy in dealing with someone who could kill him with a single blow: honesty. Picking up a fragment of a mirror that had once been on the wall opposite the bed, he offered it to Hobbes. "I think we've got a problem."

Taking the glass as if he expected it to blow up in his hand, Bobby gave it a cursory once over, started to throw it down in ire, then with a double-take that would have been comical under any other circumstances, said, "Wow." He examined his reflection closely, turning his head from side to side as if to see his eyes from every perspective. "How's this possible? I mean, no headache, no homicidal impulses. Maybe I'm a little tense." At Darien's glare he amended, "Okay, a lot tense. But quicksilver mad?"

"That time Keep and The Official went red-eye on us, they didn't get headaches either because they weren't getting the invisible from the gland, the way I do. That's what causes the pain; not the quicksilver itself." Keeping loose, but staying wary, Darien squatted down in front of his friend. "As for the rest, maybe it's the meds or maybe it's just because you're used to dealing with irrational notions and paranoia."

Snorting, Bobby said, "You mean I'm handling it better because I'm already nearly crazy."

"No offense, partner."

"None taken, partner," Bobby said, laying a heavy emphasis on the last word. "So what do you think I should do here?"

Uncertainly Darien confessed, "No idea. We could bug out and head straight for the Keeper; she'll probably give you a shot and about a million blood tests, then we can get back here to help finish up his assholiness, the ambassador." He didn't think his partner would go for it, but he had to at least try. It would have looked suspicious if he didn't.

"I'm handling it pretty well," Bobby argued. "Don't think we need to do that. In fact, I don't think we need to do anything but our jobs. If you think I'm going to leave those kids without our protection when the walls come tumbling down, you're very much mistaken. It would be like that cowardly pervert to kill all the witnesses, if you get my drift."

"Hey, I'm with you on that; just thought maybe we could make a detour first, that's all. Maybe you should reconsider taking another dose of your meds, though, just to make sure you don't slide too deep into red-eye land." Darien didn't honestly think that would work either, and if the barely suppressed snarl from Hobbes was any indication, he wasn't wrong.

"Okay, so that's out," he back-tracked quickly. Dragging his hand through his hair, he asked in aggravation, "Do you really think nothing is the best thing to do?"

Bringing up his gun and holding it against his chest, Hobbes asked belligerently, "You got a problem with that?"

"Hey, this is your partner you're talking to," Darien said, throwing up his hands defensively. "You say you can handle it, you can handle it. I trust you."

"Yeah, right," Hobbes said shortly, trigger finger caressing the barrel of his gun. Putting aside the laptop he stood, and looked down on Fawkes in derision. "You trust me."

Standing himself, Darien said as mildly as possible, "Absolutely. Been through some mad times together already. This is just one more."

"Like I'm going to believe *that,*" Hobbes muttered. "Trying to get me to leave my post, or drug me. Maybe you tampered with my meds; maybe that's what's really wrong here. You're tired of me keeping you on the straight and narrow and you're trying to take me out of the picture."

Offering up his wrists, Darien said, "If you really believe any of that, you might as well go ahead and put the cuffs on me; leave me here while you go help those kids as best you can. I swear I won't put up a fight; we both know you're the best man for the job here."

The gun dropped slowly to Hobbes side, and he used his free hand to wipe at his mouth. "I'm supposed to remember what has already happened, not what I think might happen when I get like this. Shrink told me that a thousand times, and it works. It really does."

Darien would have been a lot more reassured if the words hadn't sounded so lost and desperate, and terrified of what would happen to his partner's mind in the long run if Hobbes did lose it, he said softly, gently, "I'll prove that you can trust me. Hear me, partner? I'll prove it."

The gun came up again, and Bobby said warily, "Prove it? How?"

Inching closer, lowering his voice and his head so that he could speak almost in Hobbes ear, Darien said, "Remember what I told you about my prison time?"

"Yeah, so?" Almost unwillingly Bobby softened just a fraction; enough that he was the one to move in even closer.

"So you know that I didn't like it, but I'd do any of that for you, if it'll prove to you that I'm on your side." Darien bent in farther, almost within kissing range. "I couldn't go through with something like that if you weren't too important to me to ever betray. And I can trust you not to hurt me because you know I won't ever hurt you."

To his own ears, his logic sounded shaky, but Darien was counting on the lowered inhibitions and almost impossible to control horniness of quicksilver madness to do most of the persuading for him. When Bobby swallowed hard, tilting his head back almost as if to offer his mouth, Darien coaxed, "Let me show you, okay? I can go to my knees in front of you, if that's what you want. Or I can turn over for you. Either way, or anything else you might want."

"That's a hard offer to turn down," Bobby murmured, eyes beginning to boldly roam over his partner's face. "Have to admit I've wondered a time or two since that kiss if you'd be interested in a little mutual relief once in a while. It's kind of a turn on to think about being the one to show you how good it can be with another guy."

"Now's your chance," Darien said softly. "Bet you could make it good for me, really good."

"We're on the job here," Bobby protested weakly, distractedly. His lower body had drifted into contact with Darien's, and a hard-on was burning a swath over Darien's hip. "Don't want to lose our focus."

"Then we can make this just about you, this time around. Truth is, if I get too excited, I go see-through, and that's not a good idea right now."

Mind clearly in his pants, Bobby still mumbled, "Doesn't seem fair."

"You can always drop by my place and make it up to me later," Darien argued.

"No can do, my friend," Bobby said promptly, lust fractionally clearing from his expression for a moment. "Stopping by your home is what a lover does. There's no fraternization rules for a reason, you know."

"So you can owe me one. That's what partners do for each other, right? And that's the whole point of this exercise, isn't it? To prove that I'm your partner and you can trust me." Using a trick he had seen another inmate use once to keep from being ripped to pieces, Darien pressed lightly against Bobby, torso-to-torso, then sank down to his knees, chest rubbing over every inch of his partner's crotch as he went down.

"Yeah, well, when you put it like that... Damn, you look so hot like that."

"Hot?" Darien said playfully, mildly surprised that was exactly how he felt at the moment.

"Very hot. Forest fire hot. Nuclear hot." Almost timidly Bobby tangled his fingers in Darien's hair, but he didn't exert any pressure. "You really would suck me off?"

"If that's what you want," Darien said, calmly meeting his penetrating look. "Or you can fuck me, if you've got protection. Keep may do blood tests on me damn near daily, but those animals in prison didn't worry about consequences. I don't want to take a chance that the gland is hiding something nasty in my blood."

"Always prepared," Bobby grinned. "Got lube, too. Never know when you might get lucky, and it looks like I'm the one in the winner's circle tonight!"

"So what are you waiting for?"

"For you to take out little Hobbsie there and give him a starting kiss," Bobby said teasingly. "Just one to convince me you're really serious here before I get my engine revved for nothing."

Undoing his partner's zip with more practice than he wished he had, Darien shot back, "Looks to me like you've already buried the needle on the tachometer, here." Bracing himself without letting it show in his expression, he took out the hard shaft, lightly pumping just below the head, halfway hoping he could get Bobby excited enough to come without doing anything else. "And if little Hobbsie were any bigger, we'd have to think of another nickname for him."

"Jumbo Hobbsie," Bobby joked, but it came out thick and rough, and he shoved into the lose grip on him. "Giant Economy Sized Hobbsie. Come on, give it a kiss and let's see if we can go for His Own Zipcode Hobbsie."

Despite it all, Darien chuckled, then gave into the inevitable and swiped his tongue over the spongy crown. To his surprise the taste wasn't as bad as he remembered, or maybe his partner simply had better hygienic habits than the average prison inmate. Encouraged, he closed his lips over the ruddy cap and let Bobby thrust into his mouth, old skills resurfacing as he bobbed in the give and take required to keep from gagging.

After a few minutes he actually began to enjoy what he was doing. There was something, well, sexy, about the soft moans and gentle pumping from his partner, and there was a part of him that liked making Bobby feel good. His friend had too few pleasures and far too many sorrows in his life, and being able to give him something as basic as sexual relief was oddly satisfying.

It was obvious that Bobby was enjoying himself, too. Darien could tell by the frantic edge creeping into his movements that in a moment he was going to have to decide whether or not a quicksilver mad Hobbes would get pissed if Darien didn't swallow. Any other time he would have been glad that he had been able to use his mouth to spare his ass, but a blow job wouldn't leave Hobbs in the condition he needed him to be in, if his half-formed plan was going to work.

With a show of reluctance Darien pulled away, unselfconsciously smudging away the wetness from around his lips. "Nice," he approved huskily, truly meaning it. "But we've got other plans for this bad boy, don't we?"

"Most definitely," Bobby growled. He tugged upward in suggestion and added, "Come on, show me the goods here." Without waiting for cooperation, he rucked up Darien's tee shirt and ran possessive hands over his bared chest. "Speaking of nice... Almost a pity to hide this away. Seriously buff for such a slender build."

With a hum that was part agreement and part appreciation for the gentle touch, Darien said, "Got no complaints." Then Bobby cupped his lax genitals, his face breaking into a frown, and he added hastily, "Easy, easy. We can't afford for me to go see-through too many times, so this is just for you, remember?"

"Going to owe you one," Bobby agreed, but his mind clearly wasn't on the conversation, such as it was. He had undone his pants, reaching around behind to cup Darien's ass cheeks, kneading them eagerly. "Starting now?"

"Starting now." Trying to make a show of it to send Hobbes into over drive, Darien stripped off his shirt, then shimmied out of his pants and underwear after toeing off his sneakers. Deliberately catching those mad red eyes, he turned and sauntered over to the bare mattress, resisting the urge to put a girlish wiggle in his butt, just to get a laugh. Since that was the last thing he wanted, he settled for lying on his stomach, then wantonly lifting his hips in invitation. "Well?"

"And I thought you were hot a minute ago," Bobby all but groaned. He threw himself down on top of him, his clothes rough and unpleasant on bare skin for a second, bringing to mind things Darien didn't want to be thinking about. As if sensing that, Bobby brushed a gentle kiss over the nape of his neck and rolled to one side. "Just me partner. Just me. No pain here, no shame or humiliation."

Without meaning to, Darien asked quietly, "Could you undo your shirt? So that we're skin-to-skin? That's more, uhhhh..."

"Buddy-like, as opposed to rapist?" Bobby finished for him, again eerily almost reading his mind.

A vagrant thought crossed through the recesses of Darien's brain about how his partner knew a bit too much about what it was like to be on the receiving end of rape, but he had no choice but to let the idea go. He'd think about it later, when he wasn't worried about losing Bobby to madness. Aloud he said, "Something like that."

"Done." Bobby knelt up between Darien's legs, apparently matching deed to words, then he caressed the curve of back into buttocks on Darien's behind. "I'm going to lube you up and stretch you with my finger; probably going to be a touch cold for a second."

It was, not that Darien cared. All his concentration was on keeping that part of his body relaxed and receptive, which was especially difficult to do when his immediate impulse was to leap up off the make-shift bed, punching any one within reach. To give Bobby credit, there was nothing particularly painful about what he was doing, and it was even less invasive than expected.

Then Bobby traced one of the ridges of scars left behind from a bad bout with a monster named Crunch, and he bent over Darien, whispering another kiss over the back of his neck. "Oh, damn, damn, Darien. I'm so sorry, Beautiful. So sorry."

"Hey, not your fault, partner," Darien said hurriedly, trying to back onto the finger resting just at the edge of his pucker, not wanting Bobby to get derailed *now* after bringing him so far. "And you're going to erase some of the bad, just like you promised."

"Going to do my damndest." Bobby pressed his lips into Darien's left shoulder blade, repeated the caress on the right, then lightly licked the spine in between. "Have to tell you - you can stop worrying about that whole trust thing. You've convinced me, Beautiful. Permanently."

Slamming down the guilt by telling himself that what he had in mind wasn't a betrayal, but one partner doing what was necessary to protect the other, Darien said, "So you show me, now." Restlessly he reared back, forcing Bobby's finger past the guardian ring of muscle. It felt far better than he had expected; almost good.

"Darien! Careful!" Bobby warned, but he took the hint and began gingerly pumping, spreading slick wet inside and out.

Darien heard the rip of foil and the bed jiggled as his partner put on the condom, and despite all his willingness and practicality, he tensed up, clenching the single digit powerfully. It had the opposite effect of what he intended. Instead of warning Bobby away, it was the last straw that broke his partner's good intentions. With a low moan, he covered Darien's back, his hard-on tunneling along the cleft between Darien's cheeks, his mouth fastening onto the curve of a shoulder.

"Take a deep breath, then let it out slowly," Bobby muttered around his mouthful. "I'm going to go slow; you tell me if it gets to be too much."

Darien did as he was told, then the blunt head of Bobby's cock pressed into him, breaching him carefully. To his vast relief it didn't hurt. There was a sensation of almost unpleasant fullness, then he could feel his channel give way to the intruder, clasping it intimately, nearly in welcome. Squirming to adjust the fit better, he sighed and settled in for the duration, crossing his arms under his chin and closing his eyes as if to nap.

"You're too much, Beautiful," Bobby whispered, hips beginning the steady tempo of sex. "Too, too much."

"You were right," Darien murmured in return. "This isn't that bad; not bad at all."

With a choked laugh, Bobby said, "We can do better than 'not bad.' Much better." He groaned again, then said, "Wish it didn’t have to be later. Want it now. Right now." He picked up the pace of his fucking, shifting positions slightly as if seeking the perfect position. "Now, Beautiful, now. Want you shouting, screaming, coming, begging me for more, begging me to do you all the ways you like it best."

He shifted again, and a sensation like nothing Darien had ever felt shot through his gut, centering in his groin to make his dick stir lazily. Feeling the jolt, Bobby chuckled, low and dirty. "Liked that, didn't you? Oh, yeah, Bobby Hobbes is doing you right now. Fucking your tight, hot ass, making you love it."

Another stab of pleasure grabbed Darien before he could say anything, forcing out a soft cry, and Bobby began pounding away at him in earnest. Without thinking he began to answer the hard thrusts, instinctively seeking more of the sharp pleasure and fighting off the shiver that meant the gland was trying to release the quicksilver. It was clearly a losing battle, but thankfully Bobby finished the war first.

With a triumphant shout he muffled against Darien's back, he came, his seed hot and somehow possessive in Darien's body. Hips working lazily now, trying to prolong the moment, Bobby sagged weakly over his lover, hands coming up to languidly pet and stroke wherever he could reach.

Disappointed and frustrated, angry with himself for feeling both, Darien surreptitiously dug along the edge of the mattress until he found the trank gun. Not giving himself a chance to think about it so his partner couldn't read his intent in the body under him, Darien twisted just enough to get the barrel of the gun aimed at Bobby's thigh, and pulled the trigger.

Stiffening, but amazingly not pulling away, Bobby said sadly, "It was a trick, a diversion?"

"No, not a trick." Darien tightened around the softening flesh inside him. "I meant it. I had to prove to you that you could trust me, and what you're trusting me on right now is that you're in no condition to be making decisions for yourself. This is the voice of experience here. Please, Bobby, listen to me. I'm just trying to keep you from doing something you'll hate yourself for when the quicksilver madness is gone."

"Stage five, mimes," Bobby said sleepily.

"You barely dragged me back; I can't take the chance I won't be able to do the same for you," Darien said earnestly. But Bobby's answer was a breathy snore, and he dug his forehead into the mattress, hating himself, but hating the damned thing in his head even more.

Wearily he rolled until Bobby slipped to one side, then quickly dressed. Gathering together what he absolutely had to have, and leaving the rest for a clean up crew, he hoisted his sleeping partner onto his shoulder, turned them both invisible and carried him out of the compound to Golda's hiding place. Taking advantage of the restraints the Keeper had put in for him, he trussed Bobby up, doing his best to make sure his partner was a comfortable as possible under the circumstances.

Only then did he take the chance of breaking radio silence, just long enough to fill Clair in on what had happened. With a last wondering, sad caress of one finger over Bobby's cheek, he left to finish the job.

***

Avoiding his partner after the mission was successfully finished was pathetically easy. The trank was designed to keep the victim asleep until an antidote was given, and the Keep didn't want to administer it until she was sure that there wouldn't be any repercussions for Hobbes from the counter agent. In Darien's personal opinion she was almost gleeful about this new development on the quicksilver front, but he didn't stay behind to bug her about it. As soon as the Official was through debriefing him, he made tracks for home, fully intending not to show back up at the Agency until dragged back.

When the knock came late the next day, though, he wasn't at all surprised, telling him that on some level, at least, he had been expecting Hobbes to show up sooner or later. Not sure what he was going to find on the other side, he opened the door, hoping for the best but braced to be looking at the wrong end of a gun. It wasn't that bad, though he would have almost preferred it to the beaten, ashamed look on Hobbes face.

"Hey," he said stupidly, hanging onto the edge of the door. "The Keep let you out so soon? I wasn't expecting her to give up until she;d drained you dry with those needles of hers."

"Didn't give her a chance to stop me," Bobby admitted sheepishly, eyes on the ground, the opposite wall, everywhere but on Darien. "Once she let me out of the restraints I booked as soon as she turned her back on me."

"Was that smart? I mean, she's already sure there aren't going to be any side effects or something?" Darien asked, stomach beginning to hurt at the change in his partner.

"We can worry about that later; got something more important that I have to take care of first," Bobby muttered. He made an abortive movement to cross the threshold, held himself back with a jerk, then asked, "Mind if I come in? Not that I have to. Understand completely if you'd rather I didn't, but we got a few things to clear up. Go get a coffee maybe? I know a nice spot not to far away that's got some nice private booths in the back; give the waitress a good tip so she won't butt in."

Hastily stepping back, Darien said, "No, no, of course you can come in. Wasn't thinking, that's all. Late, you know." He winced at the last because it sounded so incredibly stupid, but Bobby didn't seem to notice.

Bobby sidled inside, carefully shut the door behind him, but didn't move too far away from it, as if he wanted to be able to bolt through it at a second's notice. For a long, uncomfortable moment they stood silently, not looking at each other, then said almost simultaneously, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." They came to a stop at the same time, then said together, "You first... no, you first."

They exchanged one long, frustration filled glare, then broke into laughter, shaking their heads at each other and leaning on the wall for support. Without thought Darien reached for Bobby, moving naturally into his arms for a fast, hard hug, then backed away, hands still on his upper arms. "You do know that I couldn't let you run around quicksilver mad, right? Using my body as a distraction was the only thing I could come up with since I didn't have a chance against you in hand-to-hand."

Clearly unhappy, laughter dying completely, Bobby muttered, "You do what you got to do; agent's first lesson in staying alive. I just wish… just wish..."

Bending down so that they were practically nose-to-nose, Darien said softy, “It didn't hurt. In fact..." He paused, lowered his voice intimately, and added, "In fact, I kind of liked it."

"Yeah," Bobby said dubiously.

"Yeah. Big surprise, let me tell you."

"You're not putting me on?"

"Absolutely not," Darien said firmly. Licking his lips, he went on uncertainly. "As a matter of fact, I'm hoping one of these days you'll get around to paying me back for the one you owe me."

Startled but pleased, Bobby said, "You really want that?"

"As long as you don't mind a lover who goes see-through on you at a critical moment," Darien said lightly, bumping his hip against Bobby's.

"Ugh," Bobby said playfully, bumping back. "Can't imagine what that cold would do to little Hobbsie."

"Probably just step him down from Own Zip code size to Giant Economy," Darien said, boldly nuzzling Bobby's temple, lips a fraction away from a kiss. Then he reluctantly made himself step back, fingers lingering for a second before releasing him completely. "One of these days, huh?"

Chasing after him, locking his hands onto Darien's hips, Bobby said, "Why not this one?"

"Difference between lovers and partners giving each other a hand is home turf," Darien reminded him, hiding his regret. "According to your rules, anyway."

"Been thinking about that," Bobby admitted. "I mean, since you can't get your jollies in the field - the whole gland, red-eye thing. Our partnership is unique, got its own special problems. We need to be flexible, adapt to what works best for us."

"So, you're saying that it's okay for us to do it here," Darien said hopefully, letting Bobby mold himself against him. Cold and hot fought for possession of his nerves for a moment, and he clenched his inner muscles around nothing, unwillingly remembering how wonderful it was to have Bobby inside him. The resultant ache was enough to make him sigh unhappily. "Not tonight, though. A bit too sore for fun and games."

Expression lighting up gleefully, cock hardening against Darien's thigh, Bobby said, "No problem. I'm a firm believer in turn about is fair play. Your turn to pitch."

The very idea sent another hot/cold flash through him, and Darien gasped, pressing his own growing erection into him. "You mean that?"

"Bobby Hobbes is a man of his word, and if I say it's your turn to top, then it's your turn to top. Besides, I *want* to get this in me; should be one hell of a ride." Bobby brazenly rubbed their hard-ons together, then tackled his own buttons, shedding his clothes in record time.

Covering his mouth with his own, taking the kiss he'd been unconsciously dying for since the last one, Darien shucked off his own clothes, breath catching when they were skin-to-skin. Tongues and lips busy exploring and learning, the two of them stumbled toward the bed. Though it kept his erection from reaching full length, he fought off becoming invisible, wanting to see all of Bobby for as long as he could.

Finally breaking their kiss so he could sit back on his heels, Darien rubbed his thumbs over the hardening nubs on Bobby's chest, practically eating up the breathless groan he caused. Trailing his fingertips over the well-defined muscles of chest and stomach, he greedily tore more from his lover, then wrapped a hand around the column of flesh jutting straight up from Bobby's groin. The reaction was louder and accompanied with an erotic writhing that nearly sent Darien over the edge.

Dragging himself back from it, he said hoarsely, "Lube, you used lube so it wouldn't hurt."

"Here, here." Bobby hurriedly handed him the condom and small tube he'd been holding, brazenly spreading his thighs wide. "Face-to face,-okay? Even if you have to go see-through. Can't get enough of that mouth of yours, Beautiful. You kiss better than anybody I've ever been lucky enough to bed."

Bending over him, Darien lightly touched his lips to Bobby's, a slick finger finding its way to the center of his partner's body. Using what had been done to him earlier as an example, he carefully opened Bobby up, clenching his jaw at the rush of lust demanding that he hurry the preliminaries and get down to it. His lover opened to him easily and quickly, and when he thought Darien was taking too much time, Bobby locked his legs around his waist and pulled him closer with all four limbs.

"I'm dying here," he muttered, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. "Come on already."

"Oh, crap," Darien muttered, losing the battle to stay visible. With the release of the quicksilver, he couldn't hold back any longer, and he pushed gingerly against Bobby's opening, sinking all the way in with his first thrust. Shouting at the incredible rush of soft, yielding heat over iron cold flesh, he hurriedly withdrew, intending to clutch at enough control to make sure it was good for his lover.

Bobby wasn't having any of that; he surged up, taking Darien's cock inside again. "Don't hold back; fast and hard, that's what I want. Fast and hard."

Darien didn't have any choice but to give it to him that way. His body took over, slamming away roughly at him, going as deep as he could with every thrust. Bobby answered each with one of his own, dirty words spilling from him in a flood of praise and encouragement. "Yeah, like that, like that. Do it, Beautiful. Give it all to me. Yeah! Fuck, that's good."

Lifting his knees to lock them against Darien's sides, Bobby arched, then howled. Distantly, dimly, Darien knew the angle of his penetration had changed and the head of his cock was bumping into something buried in the tender wall of the flesh surrounding it. From then on, every time he hammered in, his lover would buck and cry out in ecstasy, driving Darien insane with the need to wring that ultimate, consuming pleasure from Bobby. He tried to balance himself on one arm so he could work a hand between them to jack him off, but Bobby beat him to it, fist flying over his own cock in time to the pounding Darien was giving him.

"Fuck, oh, fuck," Darien muttered, the mental image of what Bobby was doing flashing across his mind. "Losing it, Bobby. Losing it."

"Go for it," Bobby panted. "I'm right with you, Beautiful."

Freed by the words, Darien buried his head in the curve of Bobby's shoulder and let go, roaring as his finish crashed through him, sending his come into his lover in powerful jets of release that were blinding and deafening, leaving almost unbearable relief in their wake. He never felt the last feeble spurts leave him; he was lost in the haze of joy from being with Bobby so completely, content to stay there forever.

Eventually, though, Bobby had to move, straightening out cramped legs and struggling to take a deep, much-needed lung full of air. Called back by his concern for his lover, Darien carefully withdrew, then rolled to his side, taking Bobby with him and enfolding him in his arms. Suddenly exhausted, he mumbled, "Never would have believed that could be so fantastic."

"Told you so," Bobby said smugly, then yawning himself.

"So you did. Pity we're even now; I wouldn't mind doing that again."

Snuggling deeper into Darien's arms, Bobby said, "By my count, I still owe you one."

Smiling contentedly, Darien said, "So you do, so you do."

Countless poets, authors, wise men and scholars have written countless words on love, all of them trying to capture the essence of what it is to surrender body and self to another. Maybe they should stop trying and settle for one word. Partner.

finis