Pygmalion

By DocPaul

Chapter Twenty-five: Superman (It’s not easy)…

Superman (It’s not easy)

~Five for Fighting~

Day Thirty-seven: Wednesday, 12:33 am

Kyle rested with one high-heeled foot hiked up against the wall. Feet. Hurt. Ouch. The shoes were making him forget the horror of having the hair ripped off his legs. Barely. Scanning the area, he found Michael in a dark corner with a frown on his face, trying to appear like he was listening to the music. He would occasionally make a comment to passing women who were trying to get his attention. Whatever he said to them had to be bad and biting, because they scurried away immediately.

Spying a geeky-looking guy eyeing him for another dance, Kyle hobbled over to Michael for protection. No way in hell! That guy had not only danced with him already, stepping all over his feet in the process, but also tried to feel him up his damn dress! Men were pigs.

“What’re you doing, Kyle…um, Kylee?” Michael asked, trying to appear uninterested in the tall ugly woman with blonde curls and a tight green mini.

“Man, cut me some damn slack! Geek man cometh! Save me.”

Michael snickered. “Can’t, you’ll blow my cover.”

“Cover? What the hell are you talking about? What is your cover?”

Michael flashed his wedding ring. “Like the music, very married, move along.”

Kyle’s mouth opened in shock. “You’re playing a married man? I’m a married man too! This is totally unfair. Take off the damn ring and dance or slam into something.”

Michael’s face turned dark with a heavy scowl. “I’m not taking off my wedding ring!” He looked up at the sound of raised voices in the vicinity of Sean. Rolling his eyes, he gestured for Kyle to follow his gaze. Sean. Of course Sean. There was a loud ruckus of partiers, and Sean was in the center of attention. Michael cursed and closed his eyes as a large man, about the size of professional football linebacker, lifted Sean up onto a table. The stupid bastard was dancing on a table! Unreal. They couldn’t take that boy anywhere. Whoever had the sense of humor to put Sean in a short tight black cocktail dress and long red hair was going to pay. The boy was catching attention.

Hanson was on the dance floor sweating so hard that his makeup was running a bit. His blackened eyes somehow looked perfect for this setting, giving him a Goth look. He was dancing with three frat boys at once, and when he reached up in the air in abandon, Michael was relieved that someone had had the sense to make him shave. Not that it would’ve mattered much. He had checked out the female regulars and most of them looked as though the concept of a trusty Bic disposable razor was beyond them. Michael nodded to Waters, who mixed in perfectly with a trendy crowd of techno-geeks, all wearing hats and discussing the Selectors. A woman grabbed his tie and pulled him into a long kiss that looked a little too much like sex. Waters barely survived with his eyes uncrossed, and he gestured to Michael that he picked up the signal:  Keep an eye on Hanson’s drinks so the frat kids didn’t slip him a mickey and get a real surprise when they unwrapped him.

Courtney was at the bar listening to a visiting salesman tell her about the Ska movement and the influences of Urban punk to the kettle brass. She was throwing empty peanut shells on the floor, pissing off the bartender who kept suggesting she put them in the bowl set out for that purpose, so he could empty it. Michael sneered. She was just jealous. Max was prettier.

And he was.

Max was the belle of the ballroom. In hot demand, he was busy trying to fend off pursuers left and right as the number of drinks in front of him kept growing in geometric proportions. They were three hours into the operation when Michael noticed Max making a phone call. He kept telling people that he couldn’t dance, that he was waiting for his fiancée. Philips stood close by and ran interference for Max while Michael occasionally circled the floor. This crowd was intermixed, as was typical for The Bunco and they had more available female cops than Major Crimes. Michael recognized a few of them. They also had pulled some uniforms. It was a jostling next to him that made Michael look to his left.

“Morris?” Michael laughed in amusement and recognition. “How the hell are you? You must have recovered from the glass in the ass incident if you can dance like that!.”

Morris swore as he recognized Michael Guerin and was reminded of the most embarrassing moment of his career, being carted out of a warehouse with plate glass protruding from his derriere'. “Guerin.” He wasn’t going to let even Guerin ruin his first time being pulled out of uniform for an undercover assignment.

“So you dancing or not?” Michael asked, amused.

“Yeah, I can dance. Why?” Morris looked at Michael, expecting some added humiliation. “And please don’t mention the glass incident. I’m trying to put that behind me.” Morris cringed inwardly at the word ‘behind’ as Michael chuckled in amusement as he nodded towards Kyle. “Take Cinderella here for a spin in her ill-fitting glass slippers.”

Kyle cursed as Morris followed Michael’s orders. His scowl deepened when he heard Michael’s laugh when Michael overheard Morris ask him if he was sure he was a man and not a woman. Sure looked like one. Bastards.

“Hey!” Michael recognized Eddie immediately. “Eddie! What’re you doing here?”

Eddie laughed, searching the area as he scoped out the men in drag and the other cops. “Maria sent me. She said to tell you to pick her up a copy of the CD of the live band playing tonight’s cover. Also something about barbeque chicken wings and you all being out of bleu cheese dressing.” He thought about what he had just said.  “Actually I think she meant that she ordered barbeque chicken wings, and used all the bleu cheese dressing.”

Michael swore. Nothing left for him then if she had polished off an entire order. Before she was pregnant, Maria hated barbeque, but the kids seemed to lean more to his taste for it along with Tabasco. Michael smiled at that thought. “I take it she wants me to stop at the all night pharmacy for Tums then?”

“That might be it! I was just stopping on my way back to Club Hell. Alex has his people inside and outside the club. The place has an intense ‘watched over’ feel to it, and I promised to come walk his floors until early morning bar call. Maria intercepted me on the way.”

Michael nodded. “So you’re still dating Parker, huh?”

Eddie shrugged. “On and off. She’s a hard one to catch up to lately. Always busy. Maybe I can talk her into another overnight camping trip soon, before the weather turns bad.”

“It’s September, I think you’ve got time.” Michael stopped concentrating on the floor and looked closely at Eddie. “Maria’s talking about coming back to work at the museum.”

“She told me. It would sure be appreciated. She’s the only person that can get Dickie to deliver our mail correctly, and her lecture tours are the highlight of the semester. The assistant curator is good, but Maria’s the brain child. I’m covering her classes this fall, and I’m hoping she doesn’t stay gone all spring too. Her load is tough, so even if she picks up one or two of the classes, I would appreciate it.”

Michael nodded. His life had changed since he no longer had to travel to the University practically every day to find Maria. She had finally gotten her office out of the basement, and it took a huge amount of volunteers to get it transplanted to the upper floor. They hadn’t even got the chance to break it in. Something to look forward to in the future.

“She’s up for three published articles this month, and I think the Chair wanted her to do a small lecture series on them.”

Michael frowned. “She needs to rest. It’s getting closer to her time.”

Eddie nodded, looking at the time as his cell phone rang. “That’ll be Alex in a snit wondering where the hell I am.” Eddie punched Michael on the arm. “The Department is hurting with Price gone, Jahne murdered, and both Tess and Maria on baby leave. They can use all the help they can get. Maria can do the minimum and they will still love her. Don’t worry, Michael. I’ll keep an eye on her when she’s at the University. Make sure she rests and doesn’t get pushed into anything.”

Michael and the man shared a long look. It was almost like looking into Alex Whitman’s eyes. Same feeling. Michael nodded. Okay. That he could live with. Eddie smiled and waved goodbye as he talked to Alex on the phone, reminding Michael on his way out, “Don’t forget the CD.”

Michael watched Eddie leave the club and then turned back to the room. Oh, fuck! Rolling his eyes, Michael leaned back against the wall in the dark and watched the scene unfold in front of him. Jonathan Stiller. Maxwell. Unbelievable.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Max started to flip off the advance when he looked up into Jonathan’s dark eyes. Sighing in relief, he smiled in what he hoped was a feminine ‘happy to see’ you manner. “What the hell took you so long, honey?”

Jonathan took a seat and pushed all the drinks away from Max clearing a space. Looking up he caught a waiter’s eye and motioned for him. “Late meeting.” Jonathan looked up at the waiter. “Could you clear this away and bring a Pellengrino unopened, and Scotch neat with twist of lime.”

Jonathan waited until the waiter took off to pick up one of Max’s hands and, leaning forward on the table, he nibbled on the fingers. “You make a very nice looking woman, honey.”

“Not you too! Give me back my damn hand!”

“Testy! This feels like an anniversary of something. Reminds me of the first time we kissed.” Max forgave him being a pig for a moment. Big romantic. Jonathan’s eyes sparkled in amusement. “You make a wonderfully beautiful woman, Max, but your hands give you away. Completely male.” Jonathan studied his boyfriend, his gaze dark and piercing. “I always thought your hands were one of your best features.” He seductively sucked on one of Max’s fingers and before Max realized it, he had slid a ring on Max’s left hand, on the appropriate finger. “Think you might want to wear this?”

Max looked down at the silver band circling his ring finger. Staring at it almost mesmerized, he was caught speechless in the tantalizing web that was Jonathan Stiller. “You asking?” His voice caught in his throat. Once again with Jonathan, he was out of his depth of experience. What did men do in situations like this? Or women for that matter?

Jonathan pressed a piece of metal into Max’s hand. It was an identical ring, matching the one on Max’s finger. The man was quiet. Watchful. Carefully waiting for Max to react.

“I…” Max gulped hard and looked around the club. He was supposed to be working. Michael was right; things were going too fast. He stared at Jonathan again. Sliding the ring on the other man’s finger, he watched his reaction. There was a flare of light in his otherwise deep eyes. A spark of warmth, and Max knew that he wasn’t going fast enough. So much ground. He had so much ground to make up in his life.

“We need to talk,” said Jonathan.

Max nodded, but discreetly looked around the room, his glance capturing his quietly watching partner’s. Damn. “Yes. But not today. Tomorrow. This weekend? I don’t know.”

“Vanessa is supposed to be coming over this weekend, remember? You invited her.”

Max started to rub his face, but remembered his damn makeup. He couldn’t handle this. Not yet. He needed a few hours alone to have a mental breakdown, maybe stare in a mirror. Practice his 'Hi, love you. I’m an alien. No antennae, but I can turn your body green if necessary to prove it.' Damn. Max groaned under his breath. Michael was right. He was pushing it all too fast. He had to tell Jonathan before he went any further.

“Five days.”

“What?” Jonathan was confused. “Five days?”

Max nodded. “Give me five days. A standard work week. Through this coming weekend. Cancel the dancing Congresswoman and come away this weekend. Anywhere. I don’t care. No talking about this. No questions. Just us. Nothing else. Fun. Food. Sex. Whatever. No work. No talking about weird shit, and no Vanessa. Do that, and I’ll promise to tell you anything and everything after those five days.” God, he just needed a breathing space to really think and be with Jonathan away from Roswell, away from everything, so he would know that he wasn’t being impulsive. He couldn’t just blurt it out without thought, without thinking of the others. They were his responsibility…his family and people. They deserved some consideration.

Jonathan looked around the room. The place was loud and there were people everywhere, but somehow it felt like they were alone. Max had called him on the cell, nearly hysterical, asking him to come save him. It was amusing at first, but soon became less so. Other men where hitting on Max. That didn’t set well at all, even though they didn’t know Max was a man. He had left his meeting immediately and gone home to change into tight slim-fitting black pants, a white shirt, and a long black tie. He was wearing a long loose-fitting men’s jacket over the ensemble. That was all the time he could spare to dress. He undid his hair, and it was long and flowing over his shoulders with his late day beard shadowing his face.

“Can you get off?”

Max shrugged. “I’ll find a way. I spent so many extra hours while Cap was down and Michael away, I think I’m due.”

“No talking. Just being?”

“Right. A breather.”

Jonathan smiled. “Okay, I can do that.” Jonathan moved on the table so he was real close to Max. “So what’re you wearing under that dress?”

Max snorted. “You wouldn’t believe me. It’s a fucking nightmare.” Max scanned the bar and leaned closer to Jonathan. “I’ll let you undress me later and you can find out.”

Jonathan laughed, a deep sound rich and amused. He gestured with his head. “You want to dance to this?”

Max couldn’t breathe in the damn girdle, and his feet were in the weirdest shoes ever devised, determined to teach a person to hate their body. Hell no. “I’d rather die first.” Max noticed people watching them and sighed. Time to get back to work. “But I’ll let you buy me a drink, honey.”

Jonathan laughed and moved closer to Max, the two of them putting their heads together like two lovers lost in each other. “Okay, I’ll look over your other shoulder. Want to tell me what I’m watching for?”

“Good man.” Max snatched back his hand that Jonathan had started nibbling on again after ordering them more drinks. “Stop that. People are watching.”

“I thought that was the point.”

Max turned to look into Jonathan’s dark eyes. The man was enjoying himself way too much. “It is, but I’d rather not have our personal relationship exploited that much. So work with me on this. Light and easy.”

Jonathan nodded, laughing. Light and easy? Who was Max trying to fool? Nothing they had had ever done had been easy, and they sure didn’t do light. But this was a game. He was good at games. He had a lifetime of experience playing them. He could do this.

“You owe me big, Max.”

Max turned darkened brown eyes on Jonathan and smiled. “I’ll pay in full later.”

“Yes, you will.” Leaning in and appearing to be caught up in an intimate discussion, Jonathan kept an eye on the back room over Max’s shoulder, as Max told him what was happening.

~~~

Michael felt it first.

It started as a tingle in the back of his neck. An awareness. Something not usual. Closing his eyes for a moment, he could feel the air of the club seem to rush from the space, almost in a vacuum. He knew this person. Felt them.

Then his hunter’s instinct kicked in, and at the same moment Sean, who was laughing in a corner surrounded by patsys , suddenly stopped. His head tilted to the side in concentration. His eyes narrowed and dilated to fine points as his nostrils flared. He too had picked up the scent.

Max, who was watching over Jonathan’s shoulder, suddenly noticed Jonathan’s jaw tightening. Staring at his mate, he looked around.

“What is it?”

Jonathan motioned to Michael. “Guerin just went on alert.”

Max turned in his seat,  registering that his partner was indeed in full stalker mode. Quickly finding Sean, he watched as the man jumped down from the table and moved with purpose almost opposite to Michael. Max spoke into the mic hidden low on his neckline, listening to the others in his ear. “We’ve got possible movement. Watch Guerin and DeLuca.” What surprised Max the most was Kyle. He was moving from the farthest part of the club in tandem with the other two, his movements not as sure, but pretty damn close to being in sync.

Jonathan nodded. Max was learning. Good. It was important to let those born to hunt do what they were designed to do. Max quickly and quietly issued orders, and Jonathan watched as well, willing to sit back and let Max do what he was born to do.

“Charley, you got anything?” Max waited for a response. He noticed that Hanson was moving from the dance floor and cautiously watching Michael for cues. Courtney scanned the area, her movements too jerky, but alert. Bunco’s crowd was closing together, closer, and moving outward. Faces in the crowd were viewed, and three of the undercover cops entered the bathrooms, as a few went to stand inconspicuously at the exits and cover the back alleyway.

Michael’s eyes narrowed as he spotted a tall figure cutting through the throng. His movement was fluid. Purposeful. The man stopped and spoke to a young woman, blonde, and of average height. She had medium-length hair, silky and swinging. She wasn’t a mark. Michael quickly found the other undercover female cops and men in drag. The perpetrator had selected a target…an innocent.

Sean had picked up on the man too. Both Kyle and Sean were moving to the spot to deflect and intercept him as Michael paced himself slowly across the room. Sean, who was the closest, put on a smile, ready to insert himself in the place of the young woman. Michael moved in a determined pace, yet slow and controlled. Trying to hold back anything that might telegraph his intent, he slowly sidled his way across the club through the smoke and noise and the thrall of moving bodies. The tempo of the music had increased as the gyrating crowd of dancers moved with the beat, and the mass of bodies surged and oscillated to the music.

Max frowned as he noticed his partner’s body appear to be moving to the beat of the music and crowd. It was a deception. Michael moved to the sway, then moved into it without effort, advancing. In a predator mode, he was advancing towards the danger without appearing to do so. Max had seen him do this before. Michael’s ability to blend into a crowd, slicing through it unseen, was a true gift.

Hanson saw the back of the suspect’s head, as Sean slowly danced his way near, moving charmingly from body to body. The suspect was tall. His hair was long in the back, but short at the sides with an obvious punkish flare. Tattoos were apparent, and from a slight profile, Hanson could see a piercing. The man was dressed in black leather pants. Tight. A tee-shirt, also black, and also tight. He looked very much the height and size of Michael Guerin. His back was hunched over, trapping the young blonde woman against a wall, and his head bent to kiss the girl.

Hanson paused. The woman seemed very much into the action. Maybe it was a mistake? The intended victim didn’t seem to be coerced in any manner. It was the intent of both Michael and Sean that kept him moving.

“Hey, you got a light?” Sean asked in his best female voice to the bent back of the man.

“Busy, bitch. Fuck off.”

Sean rolled his eyes. Damn. His original line was a fucking travesty. “I see that.” Sean allowed his hand to run down the back of the man. “Pity. That piece hardly looks worth tasting.” Sean moved in closer, sliding his hand into the suspect’s groin and gripping him hard as he whispered in his ear, “I have a taste for domination and a strap myself. Guess I was wrong thinking you liked something more than schoolgirl vanilla.” 

That got the man’s attention. He didn’t turn, but he moved off his prey a little, still holding her firmly against the wall. She was mesmerized by him. “How much tit we talkin?”

“Flowing. If it ain’t bleeding, then you’re doing something wrong.” Sean pushed the advantage. “There’s always peaches and cream waiting, but this piece would just faint away. I’ve never dropped the ball. Not unless I wanted to.”

Sean could see the man’s eyes flicker, his long lashes moving against his cheek. For a moment, from the gloom of the club and the angle of the head, he felt a rush of recognition. Michael. Michael was close. Sean could feel him, and he frowned. Strange. Michael never telegraphed his movements. He was always a fucking ghost, moving like a hot slicing knife as it cut through the air unnoticed, but Sean could still feel Michael.

The suspect grabbed the blonde in front of him, tilting her head back, his mouth moving to her neck, nibbling. “Hear that, honey bitch? This piece thinks I should dump your ass for her. You feel like walking on, or you want to play?”

Sean looked closely at the young girl. Her eyes were constricted to small points even in the subdued light. Drugs. The girl was on drugs, almost certainly unaware that she had picked up a serial rapist. Sean groaned inwardly. Damn. The girl licked her lips and stared up at the man in rapture. Sean pushed his advantage.

“If the fluff wants to play in a threesome, I’m game.”

There was a harsh laugh from the man. “I like more than one doll at a time. Kiss her.” Moving quickly between the man and the girl, Sean situated himself. Looking down into the smaller woman’s face Sean moved forward breathing heavily in her ear. “Are you into rape?”

The man heard him. “Wha’cha saying to the cunt?”

Sean almost purred. “I asked her if she was into a little tie-up and rape fantasy. Does she like to scream?”

The suspect suddenly moved into Sean’s back hard, pushing Sean into the girl, the three of them moving almost like a sandwich. His mouth rested along Sean’s ear. “I like a tall bitch that can take it.”

“I can take it.” Sean reassured the man.

“Then kiss her.”

Sean rolled his eyes and then bent his own head to kiss the blonde girl being crushed by their combined weight. He concentrated on making it look good. Real good. Sexual. Visceral eye candy for those who were watching. Using lots of tongue, he pushed back against the hard cock pressing into his ass. The man’s hands were planted firmly against the wall on either side of Sean’s and the girl’s heads. Suddenly there was a lick of a tongue along his neck. Sean closed his eyes, ignoring the man that was biting the side of his neck as he continued to kiss the girl.

Guerin. Where the hell are you?

Sean suddenly felt rough hands grab him and pull him back against a hard body as a hand took the blonde young girl and tossed her to the side. “Beat it bitch. I’ll find you later.” The wall was suddenly very close, as the hard body pushed him into it. “Ya gotta a place near?”

“I like it public. How about right here, right now?” Sean asked, reaching his hands back to grasp the man’s hips and pull them tight to him. Gotcha, bastard!

“Nah, I’ll be needing some room to work. I’m going to fuck you up bad, bitch.” The hands turned Sean around, and he stared into eyes of golden brown. Eyes he knew well, but yet were a stranger to him. Michael Guerin. But not. Then the Michael clone kissed him. Rough. Tongue. Sean pulled back in shock.

Sean almost bit his own tongue out. He had telegraphed his recognition. His eyes had dilated, then quickly constricted. The man felt it. He released Sean and stepped back, his head rising slightly almost as if he was sniffing the air. With a malicious grin, the last thing Sean saw was a large fist before it hit him. He had blown it. The prey was on the chase.

Michael was close when Sean intercepted the perpetrator. He hung back for a moment as Sean insinuated himself between the suspect and young woman. It was just a matter of seconds and a quick dialog, but it was enough. Michael began moving again, and this time faster, cutting a swath through the crowd.

He knew the moment Sean made the mistake. The man lifted his head and became alert. Suddenly Sean was sliding down the wall, and the man was off, quickly exiting the club. On the outside two undercover cops tried to stop him. Michael rounded the corner with Max hot on his trail as they saw both cops flying. The man stopped at the end of the alley and looked back at Michael. Their eyes met. Two sets. Identical. Rath smiled cruelly and saluted Michael with a slight dip of his head before disappearing into the night.

“Michael...!”

“I saw.” Michael interrupted in a voice heavy with anger. His Dupe. Sewer Boy.

Sean and Kyle burst through the door panting. Kyle was holding Sean up, and they searched up and down the alleyway along with Michael and Max. Sean started to say something, but he quickly bit it back when Hanson and Courtney came from around the end of the alley. They had exited the club and circled.

“Anything?” Hanson asked breathing hard.

Everyone shook their heads in disgust as Michael ran his hands through his hair. Hanson finally gave up and leaned up against the wall. Running in high heels was something he obviously wasn’t in shape for, and for which he had no skill.

“Did you get a good look at him?” Courtney asked. The other four men remained silent, and finally Max shook his head no.

“He stayed in the shadows.” Max sneaked a look at Michael. “Courtney, go inside and pull the rest of the team to the van. This club is a bust for the night. We need to reassemble at smaller clubs, and go help cover Club Hell. He won’t be back.”

Michael waited for Courtney to leave. The woman bugged him. Something about her was off. Way off. He waited until the area was clear of everyone but those he trusted. “What the hell happened?”

Sean took offense to the tone. “Back off, Michael! What the hell was taking you so damn long?”

“I couldn’t just move there directly. I would’ve telegraphed my intent.” Michael kicked a piece of garbage next to him. “I thought you had his attention!”

Kyle nodded. “It looked that way to me too.”

“So what happened?” Max gestured for the others to back off Sean and let him talk.

“He kissed me!”

Kyle snorted. “You’ve kissed men before. How can this be any different?”

“I never kissed Michael Guerin before!” Sean’s face was red. Embarrassed. Disturbed. Strangely weirded out in a way he didn’t think possible. It was beyond his realm of understanding.

The group was strangely quiet. Michael closed his eyes. “I need to talk to Parker. We have to be sure. She’ll have to run my genetics versus the sperm retrieved from the victims.” Michael paced, his movements jerky and unsettled. “I…dammit, Max! My Dupe a murderer and rapist?” He rubbed his face hard.

Max shared a look with Kyle and Sean. They were all silent, unable to comfort Michael. “Partner, pull it together. He isn’t you. Looks. Genetics. That doesn’t make him you. We’ll get him, and we’ll shut him down.”

Michael shook his head and made for the van. Time to go back to work.

Kyle and Sean followed a few steps behind. Kyle bounced on his heels, and pulled out his makeup compact to repair any damage. Glancing over at his partner, he made sure Michael was out of earshot. “So was it good? The kiss?”

“Shut up, Kyle!”

“Hey, I’m just asking!”

~~~

Alex put his bass down as the band took another break. He was working on a night he usually took off, due to the recent attacks and by request by the Roswell PD. “Keeley, can you have the boys rotate a little during the half hour break? Tell them to relieve the other watchers so they can hit the can.”

“What about us, Alex? We’ve been on stage for forty minutes. I’m going to need a catheter inserted up my dick if this continues.”

Alex just snickered and reached for a cigarette. Empty. Sighing, he looked at his friend. “No way, man! You told me you were trying to quit. I’m not going to be the one to break your abstinence.”

“Abstinence has never been my strong point.” Alex searched Keeley’s face and smiling evilly he decided to give the man until the count of three before he rolled him for a smoke.

“That would be illegal, Whitman. I would suggest the man hit you with a lawsuit if you mug him.”

Alex turned at the sound of Michael Guerin’s voice. Shrugging, he noticed Keeley disappearing into the crowd heading straight for the Men’s. Escaped. Damn. Guerin didn’t smoke, but Alex’s eyes lit upon Sean, and he smiled. Mooch owed him plenty.

“Awwww, Guerin. No dress? I would so like to see you all dolled up.”

“You and the rest of the world, but sorry, I only give private performances.” Michael frowned at Alex’s hungry look. “What?”

Alex ignored him and checked out the female version of Sean DeLuca. Not bad. He looked like rough wild sex, especially with that nice bruise on his face. “Sweetheart, you got a butt!”

“Hard to miss. I’m wiggled into this thing so tight I can’t breathe.”

“Looks good on you.” Alex said kindly. Sean laughed. Whitman coming on to him? Interesting. Wonder what Isabel, the Amazonian killjoy would say about her man hitting on him? At his chagrin, that actually amused and flattered Sean. “Why don’t you come be my groupie tonight. I’ll treat you right.” He shrugged inwardly. One cover was as good as another. He moved next to Alex, sidling up to him like an adoring fan, his entire attitude changing at Alex’s next words. “So you packing heat?”

“Definitely.” Sean discreetly patted his gun. Alex just snorted.

“Not that heat, babe. A smoke. I’d kill to light one up right now.” Alex smacked him hard on his ass.

Sean jumped in alarm and growled at Alex. “A smoke? You bummin’ off me?” Bastard! All men were alike. Only after one thing.

“So? You carrying any?” Alex asked hopefully. Sean rolled his eyes and handed over one of his three prized cigarettes. He had worked hard for them earlier in the evening. Alex’s moan of relief was embarrassing. He quickly lit up and stared at the men in his club. “Thought I was hoofing this beat alone tonight. What gives?”

Michael signaled for Sean to mix and he gestured for Alex to follow him. The two men were finally alone in the back room before Michael bothered to talk. It was hard. His emotions were split over the situation.

 “We missed him.” Michael didn’t go into details. “He cleared out of Two Tone, but he’ll be on the prowl looking for something to take the edge off. Problem is he’ll probably shift his field so I’m not sure where he’ll go. Reason says a smaller club, but my gut is saying he’s going to hit a big one to spit in the eye of the 5-0.” Michael’s dark angry face keyed Alex that there was more going on than just a missed target.

“What is it, Michael?”

“My Dupe. The person we’re looking for is my Dupe.”

Alex looked at the closed door and swore. “This is a fine mess. That means your DNA must match.” An alien serial killer. Alex swore again. That meant powers, unknown and unrealized. He could take out anyone cornering him.

Michael nodded. “I’m not too worried. I was on my honeymoon when the shit started, so I have an alibi. I was also adopted so it is possible that he can be the twin brother I never knew I had.” What Michael didn’t need was for certain people connecting him to what his Dupe was.

“Michael, his genetics must be showing some pretty freaking anomalies.”

Michael hung his head. First day back and he was already tired. Shit. “I know. Simon ran them.” Alex picked up the problem immediately. If his Dupe was exposed that meant he was exposed, and in the process, his unborn children and Maria.

Alex drew on his cigarette in thought. “That means FBI, Michael. They confiscated everything from before, and there is no damn way this hasn’t tripped some wires.”

“You think I didn’t think of that?”

“Sorry.” Alex sat back. “What you want from me?”

“Your source. I want to meet your source and talk to him.”

Alex whistled. It was about fucking time Guerin asked! He had been expecting it long before Michael asked him to deal with the Skins that followed him for information that might help Maria. They had played the fence for a long time. Now it was time to pay the piper.

“I don’t know that he’s going to agree.” Alex stared at the lit end of his cigarette. God, what was he thinking? He loved this too much to give it up. It calmed him. Focused his concentration. “I’ll ask. That’s all I can do.” He reluctantly stepped on the butt. Damn, he would give his left testicle for a pack. “Let’s go check out the girls. Damn, I knew Evans would make a sweet piece, but Sean and Kyle?”

Michael shrugged. He had asked. Now he had to be patient. He’d give it three hours before he would begin chomping at the bit. Following Alex out, he gestured to Hanson who was dancing up close with a man. “It’s Hanson that really shocked me. He’s like Greta Garbo on speed. Normally, that man doesn’t move beyond a snail’s pace.”

Alex’s mouth fell open. “That’s a man? Hanson? No shit! I pegged the skanky blonde, but not him.”

Michael laughed at that. Courtney. Alex thought Courtney was a man in drag. Somehow, that just made his nightmare of a night suddenly so much more tolerable.

~~~

“Hmmm....” Maria moaned softly as Michael’s arms came around her. He smelt so good! The shower had warmed his skin and left it slightly moist. “Michael...” she murmured softly.

Michael smiled against her skin and pulled her close, his hands resting on her stomach. He could feel his babies reaching for him. Then he suddenly laughed softly. Leaving the bed, he went downstairs and searched through the refrigerator. Pulling out jelly and mayo, he quickly made a peanut butter, jelly and mayo sandwich. Adding Tabasco, he poured a glass of milk, and took it upstairs. Mr. Boo appeared magically at the smell of the food and the milk, and followed him, almost running.

“Maria.”

“Hmm?”

Michael put the sandwich and glass on the bedside table as he climbed back into the bed. “Maria, wake up.”

Maria breathed deeply and slowly opened her eyes. Smiling slightly, she sat up a little. Frowning, she seemed to be concentrating for a moment. “Michael, could you get me…”

Michael handed her the plate with the sandwich and the glass of milk. “God bless you!” Maria didn’t even question how he knew what she wanted. Eating the sandwich like she was starving, she quickly drank the milk. Frowning at it, Michael quickly got out of bed again and went downstairs to grab more milk, two bottles and a small dish. Maria smiled when she saw the chocolate syrup and bottle of Tabasco. Michael doctored the milk and while Maria quickly drank it down, Michael poured the milk he just brought into the dish and set it on the floor for the cat. “This is our secret, okay?” He looked up to find Maria watching in amusement.

“You realize that our children and our cat are very high maintenance, right?”

Maria smiled, patting Michael’s stomach as she left the bed to go to the bathroom. Michael put the empty dishes on the table, and leaned back against the headboard watching Maria through the door of the bathroom as she brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth. She stood in the doorway of the bathroom, the light of the room haloing her body. Turning off the light she came back to bed.

Maria looked at him, and they both laughed. Their children were pretty demanding and they weren’t even born yet. It was okay. Demanding or not, they were wanted and loved.

“So you want to talk about it?” Maria asked casually.

“What?”

Maria lay down on his chest as his arms came around her. “What happened tonight.” She moved her hand up to cover the mark on his chest. “I felt your anger and there was something else…disgust? Horror? I think you were appalled.”

He was. That moment, knowing his Dupe, a variation of him, was a mass murderer and rapist horrified him beyond description. That was him. What he was inside without his human essence and morality giving him balance. He had felt him, his counterpart, in that moment their eyes met. It wasn’t just evil looking at him. It was immeasurable pain. His Dupe was in pain.

“I can’t tell you right now. Is that okay?”

Maria looked up at his face. In the dark, he was her husband, but he was also someone else. “Yes. That’s okay.” She rested against him again. “You want to link?”

How did she know what he needed? Perhaps the same way he knew she was hungry, even though she was asleep. “Yes,” he said hoarsely.

Maria reached her hand up to cover his mark again, and his hand joined hers. Closing his eyes, he could feel her clearing her mind. There. It was a prism in the dark. Bright and brilliant. It felt like Maria. Everything she was. Her strength. Even her weaknesses. A gem in the darkest of night, it drew him. Michael could feel the power of his body jump at the sight. Lust. Desire. Need. She pulled at him. Invited him to push his power through the matrix of her very being. His power channeled through the clear pure crystal. One stream of pure energy hit, and it became a full spectrum of distinct bands of power. Michael laughed. Mentally he could reach out and touch the different strands, discern them as they wound around him like tentacles. The Knowing. He knew what they could do. It was the Balance.

“Michael!” Maria’s voice rose as the force of his power hit her. Her body moved beneath his as his hand joined to hers and held her prisoner, clasped to his body as they melded.

The man watched from a distance. He had climbed a neighboring building that gave him an unobstructed view of their bedroom. They rarely shut the blinds. Rath watched as the two figures moved with each other, their bodies tangled and became one, unknowingly pushing the limits of their own physical bodies as they mated in their sheets. His heart raced out of control as he watched. Closing his eyes, he leaned against his arm next to the wall. He could feel the power of the Commander from where he was, hundreds of yards away. The movement of energy was undeniable. The Commander had discovered the secret to his unleashed power that had eluded him in their previous life. He had found a focus. Maria DeLuca, an Earth woman with a special ability to focus raw power. She was clarity, a prism. Unaware, the mated bodies pushed beyond a known envelope and entered another physical plane as the mental apparition of Michael’s power pushed through the pulsating clarity of Maria’s mental prism. Together they created a fusion of energy that resulted in a massive wave of pressure, held and controlled by the Commander.

Rath orgasmed at the exact same moment as they did, when what they were hit him hard in the gut. Pushing away, he left the building. A path of destruction was left in his wake as he walked the dark streets of Roswell. Glass windows in buildings and cars blew into shards, and alarms echoed in the night.

It should’ve been him. He should’ve found her first.

Superman (It’s not easy)

I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
I’m just out to find
The better part of me

I’m more than a bird…I’m more than a plane
More than some pretty face beside a train
It’s not easy to be me

Wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
About a home I’ll never see

It may sound absurd…but don’t be naive
Even Heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed…but won’t you concede
Even Heroes have the right to dream
It’s not easy to be me

Up, up and away…away from me
It’s all right…You can all sleep sound tonight
I’m not crazy…or anything…

I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
Men weren’t meant to ride
With clouds between their knees

I’m only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me

It’s not easy to be me.

~~~

“You look like shit.”

Max ignored him. Michael was in a good mood. Better than he thought he’d be in because of the failure of the previous evening. “Chipper, much?”

“What’s the problem, Maxwell?”

Max shrugged as the door to the elevator opened to admit more people. “Oh, I don’t know... I get home at four in the morning. My feet are killing me. I take another hour getting out of that contraption your wife and my sister shoved me into. I can’t breathe comfortably. I have bruises on my ribs, blisters on my feet, and if you would look at my hands you will notice they have polished nails. What’s not to feel like shit about?”

“Fag.”

Michael and Max both heard the voice in the elevator. Max just shook his head. It was afternoon, and even after sleeping in that morning, he was too tired to deal with a gay-bashing asshole at this moment. Swearing under his breath, Michael obviously was not.

Watching his partner’s eyes narrow with a deadly stillness to his countenance, the entire elevator picked up the vibes, and some people shifted nervously on their feet. Max watched a telltale hint of sweat bead on a man’s neck ahead of them and to the right. Degeneres from downstairs.

He was with two of his buddies. Max vaguely remembered that he had been reassigned to cover shortages in Vice and Narcotics. The elevator opened, and as many people as possible escaped, looking back in interest as Degeneres tried to exit and found his path blocked by Michael’s arm.

“Michael...” Max warned.

Michael ignored him as Morris and his partner entered the door.

“Evans. Guerin.” Morris was oblivious to the mounting tension. “Are we meeting before the operation tonight?”

Max nodded absentmindedly keeping his eyes on his partner. “Two o’clock in the east conference room at Major Crimes. Ask Rhonda. She’ll redirect you.”

Michael hit the stop button. He calmly looked into Degeneres’ eyes, waiting for the man to protest. His two friends shuffled again on their feet, uncomfortable.

Morris and the others looked around. “What’s up?”

Michael shrugged. “Nothing much. Seems that Degeneres has a problem with my partner. Don’t you?”

“I ain’t saying nothin.” The man stared straight ahead. “You don’t intimidate me, Guerin. So cut your bullshit, and hit the run. I don’t got all day to put up with you and your fag partner.”

Morris’s eye narrowed as well. Oh, fuck that shit! Before Michael could do something worthy of a nice report to his commanding officer or at least a reprimand, Morris’s fist came out and popped Degeneres in the chops. Michael stood back in amazement as the two men suddenly got into it, but he was smiling even more when the fight escalated to include the rest of the guys in the elevator.

It was a long wait at the other end of the elevator. Sean kept pushing the call button and the elevator never came. Kyle was standing next to him reading through last night’s reports. “No new rape case reported. We might have missed him, but at least he didn’t find another victim.” Kyle didn’t bother to even look up at Sean. “Pressing the button isn’t going to make it come any faster.”

Sean kicked the silver door that remained closed. Fuck that. He was in a bad mood anyway. He got home late. He still had to wear a dress which was okay, except Julia was busy tonight. She was going out on a date. A date with another man. “What the fuck is this thing’s problem? We’ve been standing here forever! Forever!”

“Get a grip. It’s been ten minutes.” Kyle put down his reading. “Though that is a long time.” Frowning at his partner’s sour face, he patted the man on his back in comfort. “Get over it, Sean. She has a dinner meeting with the DA, not another man. It is not a date.”

Sean kicked the door for good measure. “The DA is a man, Kyle. A young man. A suit. Successful. Rich. Handsome. He’s one of Roswell’s most eligible bachelors.” Sean jabbed a finger at the button again emphasizing his points. “Why should I be worry? His hair…it’s groomed. Neat. Cut. Styled.” Sean rounded on his partner. “He has a damn home! I’m living in my aunt’s spare bedroom.”

The door to the elevator opened to a flood of arms and legs. Someone had hit the run button when they were pushed into the panel. Sean and Kyle tried to discern what was going on, but Sean quickly spied Michael in the fray, and what he suspected was Max’s leg.

“Typical,” Sean said under his breath as he shrugged toward his partner, both Kyle and Sean stepped into the elevator to join the fight.

~~~

“Who started it?” Jim leaned back in his chair. Nine people in his office. Four of them were his men. Guerin, Evans, Valenti and DeLuca. Typical. Felt like old times. A hauntingly familiar event in his normal life. It was nice to be back.

They were all talking at once, except Michael, who seemed inordinately pleased with the split lip that he was dabbing at with a tissue. Jim looked at Sean and shook his head. That man. No matter what, he seemed to come out of scrapes with a higher quota of bumps and bruises. Jim made a note to check on the progress of Sean’s therapy. The man seemed to go out of his way to find a way to get the shit kicked out of him. His aggression level seemed a little tweaked.

Listening to the discussion, Michael smirked as he watched Rhonda talking on the phone. His eyes followed that Crissy girl around the room, noting how many times her eyes darted to find him. He really needed to talk to Hanson some more about his partner. She was bothering him, but with the undercover assignment, he really didn’t have the time right now. Laughing, he watched as Hanson back into the water delivery man, almost making the man drop the water bottle he was carrying on his shoulder.

Hanson’s hands were flying a mile a minute, and he insisted on helping his victim replace the water jug on the cooler in the breakroom. Hanson. He was a strange man. Good and unusual taste in food, but interesting in his own way. Michael was still convinced he was gay as he watched him meticulously help the delivery man.

“Is that all, Guerin?”

Huh? Michael refocused on the room. “Yeah. Sure.” Whatever. He had tuned out the entire conversation. Morris was throwing Degeneres hate looks. Jim finally dismissed the entire group. Watching them file out of his office he called Rhonda for some Tylenol and something long and scratchy to hit an itch on his injured shoulder.

“Morris.” Michael caught the uniform cop that was assigned to the case before he could disappear with the others. “What was up with you and Degeneres in the elevator? I’ve got a beef with him for going at my partner, but what was that all about?”

Morris scratched his neck and tilted it to remove some unseen tension. He shrugged at a curious Max. “Nothing. I have a problem with gay bashers that’s all.” Morris looked around and said in a lower voice. “I’ve got a kid in his second year of Junior college. Good kid. He’s gay, and last year his…” Morris cleared his throat, “boyfriend got bashed pretty bad. It was touch and go, and my son took it real hard. I don’t always understand his choices, or even agree with them, but he’s my kid. He’s a good boy, and I love him. That’s all I need to know, and this kind of attitude it makes the world my son lives in a little more dangerous.”

Michael nodded as the man made a gesture and walked away. Pursing his lips, he rocked on his feet. “He’s not such a bad guy. You know, for someone carted out of a warehouse with a piece of glass in his ass. I like him.”

“Fine testimony, Michael.” Max scratched his ear and found blood on his finger. Dammit. He had to dress up tonight. He better not have a black eye or someone was going to really piss him off. “I like him too.”

~~~

“Maria, we’ve got the wiring and plumbing done in the new unit. When do you want us to come through the wall?”

“That was fast.” Maria looked at her construction foreman, Stan. “How big of a mess? How loud?”

Stan looked at the back wall that separated the other unit and the current loft area. “Two stories, partial brick. We already constructed new supporting walls and beams on the other side. The new outside wall is still needing to be done. I know you didn’t want to open the entire space, but I’m suggesting that you do.” Stan rolled out the floor plans. “See here? This is where you wanted us to end the new wall which is a little over midpoint into the other loft. I’m thinking that if you reconsider the plans, we can take that entire back area and create a two story upper loft bedroom and office beneath.”

“A luxury suite?”

Stan nodded. “A luxury suite that is self contained. It would have a full wall separating it from the house, hold a huge upper bedroom with full dressing rooms and a luxury bathroom. The steps would wind down into a private office or den with a fireplace, desk, comfortable sofas and wall to wall bookcases that can be constructed into the back firewall alongside the fireplace.” Stan looked at Maria showing the plans he had the architect draw up. “The top landing to the bedroom loft will have access around an upper story walkway to the other bedrooms, namely the nursery and children’s rooms, but it will be private.” Stan went in for the kill. “Maria, I can get you a fireplace in your bedroom.”

Maria’s heart stopped. Her and Michael lying in bed, staring at the fire during a cold dark night with the children around them, and drinking hot chocolate snug and warm. Maria ignored the fact that it never got that cold in Roswell. It felt like home. The private den and office would perfect for nights she needed to grade papers late, but close enough to have Michael come down the stairs and harass her to come to bed.

“Maria, I can do it all in a dark teak mahogany, fine grained. Heavy wood. Elegant and old fashioned.”

Maria chewed on a nail. “Michael will kill me! I swore not to increase the loft too much. He hates clutter and too much open space. What about the old bedroom?”

Stan nodded. “Got that covered. Currently you have the nursery there off your bedroom. We leave it your bedroom for now until the new one is created. The new upper level decking will connect to the bedroom and the nursery. After you move to the new bedroom, we can covert your old bedroom into a large bedroom for the twins.”

Maria pointed to another bedroom they already had planned to use as the twins’ bedrooms. “We already have two extra bedrooms planned for them.”

“I know. I was thinking that when they’re younger, they more than likely would prefer sharing a room together. As they get older and being a different sex will make a difference, they will want their own. The new bedroom on the other side of the nursery can be made to be identical to your current bedroom and you can use it as a spare bedroom until one or the other wants it.”

Maria nodded. That made sense. “The other new bedroom?”

“Another spare.” Stan looked at Maria and smiled. “I know. You have the one bedroom downstairs. We already have the new bathroom for it ready to go, and expanding the wall it is now a good size room. A great guest bedroom. The other large room next to it extending into the other loft is the weight and exercise room with a special bar and room for Michael. We put in extra electrical outlets and a running wet bar. The room has some specifics that are on backorder, but we should have it delivered in the next two weeks. The room off that, that is next to the new master suite area is a two story hot tub and Jacuzzi area. I found the tile you requested and light pine. We installed full panel windows in the second story and it opens directly into the weight and exercise room though a sliding glass door. I even found a nice space to put in a steam room.”

“That leaves the new main family room area open?”

Stan nodded. “I talked to the decorator. The special fabrics will be in next month. The sunken conversation area and pit are going to be installed as we build the artificial flooring and deck. It will be padded and completely childproof.” Stan was amused by Maria’s design for basically one large playpen almost the size of her current living room. “ I did as you asked and I had the area left open so the lights from the upper windows can give the room a lot of natural light. The two new top bedrooms will take from that, but basically the entire front of the building will be open running from the kitchen through the living room straight into the family room. The upper loft units and bedrooms will cover the entire north of the building and all along the eastern wall.”

Maria looked at the plans again, and the artist’s rendition of the entire room with upper walkways along the bedrooms. The only open loft area would be the one that was currently open and hers and Michael’s bedroom. Their new bedroom would be a large open room with an upper loft much like the one they had now and a lower open den, but it would be closed off for privacy with an upper floor access to the walkway and stairs, and a lower door into the den area.

“What is this space?”

“That’s a downstairs bathroom in the den. It connects to the hot tub area, and there’s a staircase up from the hot tub leading into the bathroom in the master suite.”

Maria sat down. “I can’t do this. It will be too much. Michael will freak. I promised only a small increase in the size, not a doubling.”

“I understand.”

Maria chewed on her nail some more. “God, it looks great. There would be lots of extra rooms, but enough space for the twins.” Maria frowned. “I don’t know, Stan. I can’t make this decision on my own. We only agreed to open up the space, adding the large family room for the babies, and the exercise room and a special den for Michael. My office was going to be in the room for the twins, and then move back into the nursery when they were out of it.” They were originally going to add a new set of rooms over the exercise room and Michael’s den for the twins after they moved out of the nursery, with a full walkway on the second floor connecting Michael and Maria’s room to it.

“The added addition, Maria, is just under half the remaining size of the other unit. It’s the addition of the master suite with your office, the hot tub area opening into the exercise room.” Stan shrugged. “You can open that space later, but it would easier to do now. The wiring is in place, the plumbing and heating. Problem is that if you don’t want to build that back unit, we’ll have to place an artificial wall between it and the family room equivalent to an outside restraining wall. Later it will be a harder task to remove, and basically a waste of money since we would tear down that wall and replace with a normal interior frame.”

Maria breathed hard. If it were up to her, she would just do it. Time was a concern, and in the future it would be more difficult to do full construction with the twins. There was also the fact that someday she planned to actually return to work, and the time available to do construction and renovation would be decreased.

Maria looked around her home. It was large already. Deceptively large with the open two story living room and kitchen, and the large kitchen literally spanning the entire south wall. Michael wouldn’t be happy.

“What about the interior wall between the living room and the other loft? When do you want to take it down?”

Stan looked at the wall. He could hear his crews on the other side constructing the upper framing for the two new bedrooms with a joint bathroom and the special two rooms that Maria had put in for Michael. They would have it framed and with drywall in the next two to three days. All that was left was the artificial floor in the open family space and constructing the back outside wall to close off the extra unused space. Either way, the loft was large and spacious with barely a room under sixteen feet by twenty-four.

“This weekend. We would tear out the old wall and continue the support beams and close it in with the archways and columns between the living room and the family room. The adjacent fireplace in the family room has to be installed, and I’ve got the bricklayers coming next week. The hardwood floors and carpeting in about two weeks.”

Maria sat back chewing on her bottom lip. Next week most of the worst of the construction would be over. “I’ll talk to Michael and get back with you. Meanwhile, I’ll talk Michael into a weekend away from here. We’ll vacate the premises.”

Stan shook his head. “Maria, you don’t have to do that. It’ll be noisy, but we should have the worst of it over quick. You don’t have to leave.”

Maria leaned over the plans staring at the new addition. Damn. It looked so nice. “No, really. I better get him out of the way. I would’ve had you do it while I was on my honeymoon, but I really didn’t know I was having a honeymoon, so that was out.” Maria peeked up at Stan. “You have power tools, right? Those nail guns that work on pressure?” Stan nodded. Maria nodded her head wisely. “Thought so. I’ll get him out of the way. Trust me, Michael and a high pressure nail gun can only be a problem.”

Stan laughed and showed her the other improvements and changes in the plans. Yeah, that was why he went into construction.

~~~

“Julia.” The tall elegant man stood and politely held out the chair for Julia.

“Jesse.” Julia looked around and immediately spotted Jonathan Stiller in a corner talking to a small group of men at his table. He caught her eye and made a gesture of recognition. She smiled and turned her attention back to her boss. The District Attorney, Jesse Ramirez, was a young man, much younger than most would expect for his position. He had inherited the position when his predecessor was killed in a suspicious accident. Roswell wasn’t a hotbed of legal activity, but for the amount that was normal, lately it was more than just hot; it was fierce.

“Thanks for meeting me for dinner. I know it’s highly unusual, but I swear, if I don’t eat a real meal tonight, I won’t get one all week.”

Julia laughed. Jesse, he was an easy man to like. His smile was quick and sincere. It engaged a person immediately and inspired trust. He was a good man. “You could’ve sent me an inner office memo.”

“I could have. But I noticed that you are spending too many hours at the office as well. Some nights you’re there when I leave, and you’re there when I come in.” Jesse quickly ordered a drink and his meal, politely waiting for Julia to give the waiter her order. “So you want to tell me what has you burning the midnight oil from both ends?”

“The same thing keeping you working eighteen hour days and nursing an ulcer.”

“Ouch. The ulcer is a low blow.” Jesse sat back and smiled as the waiter set their drinks down. “Pierce.” Jesse thoughtful sipped his drink. “Thing is, Julia, I like you. I like you a lot. You were an excellent choice for this job, and I couldn’t find a finer Assistant DA.”

He had her full attention. “I’m hearing a ‘but’ in this talk, Jesse. You want to cut to the chase?”

“Life, Julia. I’ve got a lot invested in bringing Pierce down.” Jesse stared at the table for a moment. “My family lives here. My mother. They’re part of the community that feels the brunt of Pierce’s activities in high taxes and unsafe streets. The DA was my friend. We could never prove it was Pierce, but we knew. Hell, everyone knew.” Jesse rubbed his face. “The message was clear. Well received. You’ve seen Pierce’s messages first hand.”

“I have.” How could she ever forget finding a dead body in her bed? “I have reason to bring Pierce down too.”

“I know you do.” Jesse moved forward and looked at his assistant. She was a small woman. Tall, but delicate in bone structure. Her soft Texas accent made her seem very southern and gentile. All of that was a ruse. She was tough. Strong. Pierce knew that.

“What is really bothering you, Jesse?”

“You.” Jesse didn’t know how to say it without it coming out wrong, condescending or sexist. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

Sighing Jesse sat forward resting his arms on the table. “I know you are. I respect that. I know that Pierce is a large problem in your relationship with Detective DeLuca.” Jesse hurried on before Julia could protest the interference and reference to her personal life. “Thing is, this is more. The pattern didn’t mean much to me at first, and it was obscured by who he was and what we do. It took some time, but I think I’m seeing it for what it is. I can’t tell you how I know, or why it’s so strikingly clear to me, but Julia, this problem we’re having...it’s not just Pierce trying to shut us down and take out the DA’s office.”

“What are you trying to say, Jesse?”