Off World 2: Sanctuary

by Stephanie Vaughn

  “Big fucking job, man.”

  Settling back into his chair, Sandy massaged his temple with one hand. “No shit.”

  “How’s it coming?”

  “Like I said, it’s coming.”

  Sarhaan sat up a little. “Help me out here and give me number. I don’t even care what the number is. Just something.”

  “Sixty percent, maybe. I’d say definitely over half-way -- God willing and the river don’t rise.”

  “Okay, that’s good. What else do you need to get the job done? You need help besides Naslund?”

  “Nah, we’re okay. In fact, most of the cleaning and prep that we did the first time doesn’t need to be redone; it’s still good. I could probably handle it myself if you need Nas for something else.”

  “Not necessary. I don’t want you stretched any thinner than you already are.”

  That last comment caught Sandy’s attention. “You don’t have to baby-sit me, Sarhaan. I can do my job.”

  Suddenly Sarhaan’s gaze was glued to the empty ale bottle that sat on the table. He reached out one hand and began rocking the bottle in circles. Stalling. “I didn’t say you couldn’t.” Sarhaan’s gaze flicked up to meet Sandy’s. Withdrawing the hand that toyed with the bottle, he used it to smooth the close-cut beard he’d worn for as long as Sandy had known him. “I don’t think you can do two jobs at the same time, though.”

  “Two jobs?”

  “Chief engineer on the Vigilant and personal bodyguard.”

  Well. He really must be preoccupied if he hadn’t seen that one coming. “You want me out, just say the word, Sarhaan.”

  Sandy’d known Sarhaan for a lot of years. Long enough to be able to spot the flicker of surprise that flashed through his eyes before he covered it up by looking down at the ale bottle again.

  “I didn’t say that. You know I don’t want you out, D’abu. I want you here, doing your job. We’re all in this together and a lot of people are counting on you.”

  Every bit the commanding officer now, Sarhaan hadn’t been when they’d run for their lives from a Republican Army that had turned on its own, but he’d grown into the role as the months had worn on. Gazing back at the man who’d been not just his comrade but his friend, too, Sandy weighed his loyalties. “Yeah, people are. You asked me to look out for Alex. Remember that? So what are you saying -- job over? Mission accomplished?”

  “I’m saying I need to know what your priorities are. Doing your job, making sure this bucket of bolts doesn’t fall out of the sky and us with it? Or getting some tail?”

  Anger -- instant and visceral -- flashed through him. Half-way out of his chair before he caught himself, Sandy had the bottle clenched tight in his hand.

  No. Oh, no, no.

  Forcing himself to sit down, Sandy drew in a long breath before trusting himself to speak. “That’s pretty funny coming from you.”

  “You think so?”

  “Considering you not only brought your boyfriend on board, you put him on the payroll and gave everyone else one more mouth to feed.” Sandy knew he ought to stop -- bite his tongue until tempers were cooler. But, damn it, who did Alex have to stand up for him? “And considering Alex wouldn’t be in the position he is if you and Kai had kept your promises way back when.”

  Sarhaan’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed. When he finally spoke, his words were slow and measured. “You, my friend, are very, very close to the line. You do not want to cross it, believe me.”

  “Oh, please. Are you trying to intimidate me? You can’t be serious.”

  Far from backing down, Sarhaan leaned forward hard on the chair back, crowding in close to the table. “D’abu, listen to me. I’ve known you a long time. You’ve saved my butt and I’ve saved yours. We make a damn good team.” Bracing an elbow on the table, Sarhaan edged closer still. “But I need to know if your head’s in the game. Too many people are counting on you.”

  Not about to let Sarhaan think he had the upper hand, Sandy leaned in, too. “Listen, old friend, I am not about to sit here and swallow a bunch of ‘do as I say, not as I do’ advice from somebody who was in my shoes not that long ago.”

  “Oh, really. And what shoes would those be?”

  “Overmatched and clueless.”

  That threw Sarhaan back in his seat. Both hands braced on the table, he sat staring at Sandy for a long moment, before the tension in his body began to ebb and a small smile began to play about one side of his mouth. “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  Unbelievably, Sarhaan began to chuckle. What began as short bursts ran together until his shoulders shook and eventually Sarhaan was wiping his eyes with his thumbs. “Oh, this is sweet. In fact, it’s beautiful.” The belly laughs had subsided into irregular bouts of repressed hilarity, with Sarhaan going off into another fit of laughter every time he so much as glanced Sandy’s way.

  “Yeah? Well, fuck you, pal. I’m glad you’re enjoying it, ‘cause it’s killing me.”

  “No, no. Sorry, man. It’s just, you’re always mister calm-cool-and-collected. No man too big, no situation too tough for you to handle. It’s just too beautiful to see you finally taking your lumps like the rest of us.”

  “What do you mean ‘finally’?’ Sandy made a conscious effort to relax his grip on the ale bottle and set it carefully back on the table.

  “I mean, you just seem to sail through stuff pretty easily. Water off a duck’s back. Nothing ever seems to get to you.”

  “Not everything. Or don’t you remember Sai?”

  “Sure I do.” Sarhaan paused, taking a long look at Sandy. “I wasn’t sure you did. You never talk about her.”

  Sandy shrugged. He never knew what to say. “I’m not exactly proud of it, if you know what I mean.”

  “You did the best you could. What else were you supposed to do?”

  “How about stick by her? Do the right thing.”

  Catching Sandy’s gaze, Sarhaan fixed him with a hard stare. “You got something against living? Because if you’d stayed with her -- ‘done the right thing’ -- you never would have run with us. You would have stayed and you’d have been killed, just like Salinas, just like Procter, and just like all the rest. I remember them, too.”

  Sandy nodded. “My head says it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t ever give her what she needed. She couldn’t… I didn’t…” Putting it into words and speaking those words, to even just one person, brought all the shame and pain rushing back, like it was yesterday and not years ago. “She thought I was fa'afafine. It’s a Samoan thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “What about Alex? Does he understand?”

  Lifting his gaze from where his finger absently traced a stain in the tabletop, Sandy tried to read his friend’s face. “I don’t know. Alex has a lot of things going on in his head -- makes it hard for him to focus.”

  “Listen, your business is your business. When I asked you to keep an eye on Alex, that’s all I meant. Just watch out for him; try to be there if he needs help. Not that he’d ever ask. But if it’s more than that, then I’m happy for you. Both of you. You’re both past due for a decent break, I’d say.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.” Sandy hated self-pity, but the sullen tone in his voice was unmistakable.

  “Too early to plan for a spring wedding?”

  “Probably. But it’s not too late for me to take this bottle and shove it up your ass.”

  “Huh. Appreciate the offer, but I think I need to check with Caleb first. You know we agreed to be exclusive and I’m pretty sure he’d consider that violating—”

  “Yeah, violate this, pal.” He gestured with one hand.

  “Whoa, whoa. What’s with all the aggression? Xuwicha said you finally got laid last night.” Sarhaan’s smile was only faintly mocking; ten-percent just-fucking-with-Sandy to ninety-percent faked utter sincerity.

  “You know what? Just fuck off -- both of you.” Sandy rose to leave. “I’ll be in life support if you need me. I want to ge
t this thing done right this time. A lot of other things could use my attention right now.”

  “Okay. Say the word if you need any more help, all right? And, uh, D’abu?”

  Half-way to the door, Sandy turned back. “Yeah?”

  Sarhaan blew him a kiss. “Good night, sweetheart.”

  Sandy resumed his walk, not bothering to watch for the reaction as he gestured with both hands this time, Sarhaan’s laughter echoing after him.

  ***

  When Sandy finally rolled into his rack, fourteen hours had elapsed and it was a full cycle-and-a-half since he’d left Alex’s bed. Scrubbing his gritty eyes with a thumb and forefinger, Sandy closed his eyes for a moment while he punched in Alex’s co-ords on his comm unit.

  No signal.

  Damn it.

  Now that he had the filtration system beaten into submission, Sandy had a few hours to call his own before he had to get started on the next task. The entire time he’d been focused on getting the new water system going, the Alex situation had been running on a loop in the back of his mind. Sandy’d had plenty of time to think about all the things he’d done wrong, the ways he’d put his own needs ahead of Alex’s, and the things he could have handled better.

  Mostly, though, it had been the look in Alex’s eyes that had kept coming back to him. The squirrelly way Alex’s gaze had bounced around the room, never lighting anywhere for long; the uncontrolled babbling about anything and everything.

  It killed Sandy -- fucking killed him -- to see Alex that way. To see Alex reduced to that level by the drugs that had been used for so long to control him. And to know that it had been the pressure Sandy had put on Alex that had led him back to them.

  Shit.

  Why couldn’t he have just kept his mouth shut instead of saying what he had? Poor Alex. Of course Alex had try to do what he could to make Sandy happy. Sandy knew that Alex felt beholden to him. He knew that. So what had he done? Just put Alex in the position of knowing that the one thing he could do to make Sandy happy was the very thing Alex had sworn off of. Way to fucking go, buddy.

  Sandy tried comming again, but still no dice.

  Where the hell was--? Check the time, genius. How about at work?

  That was another thing Sandy had to work on: finding Alex a new place of employment. That had to work on Alex’s head, seeing the floor shows at Nelly’s every night.

  Alex was smart. There had to be some other way he could make a living.

  Needing to see Alex, talk to him, pet him -- no, keep your damn hands off him. That’s how you got him into this mess -- Sandy let out an exasperated sigh at the thought of everything that was involved in getting to see Alex. Waiting through the airlock system again. Climbing onto the tram for the long, circuitous ride from the docking station to the city proper. The walk from the tram station to Nelly’s. Fuck. He was rapidly learning to hate the whole tediously drawn out process.

  Alternately cussing and muttering, Sandy cast a weary glance at his pillow and hoisted himself up. Five minutes later, after throwing on fresh clothes and checking the tram schedule, Sandy made his way down the corridor to the first set of airlock doors.

  ***

  “Shots up.”

  Slapping the two drinks on the bar, Alex checked his monitor for the next order, more to confirm than anything else. Two ales, a gin and tonic, and one tequila shot. Pouring the shot one-handed, he set the first of the two ale glasses beneath the spigot and let it begin to fill. The shot was finished first, so Alex started on the G-and-T while the ale poured.

  The place was busy. As busy as Alex had seen it in a while. Amateur night always drew a crowd and nowhere more than the men-with-men room. Seemed like every guy from here to the Horsehead Nebula thought he had what it took to go pro.

  Glancing briefly up at moans from the stage, Alex snorted. He’d seen the guy in the middle trying out last month and here he was back again. Starting the second ale, Alex gave the guy’s technique a cursory review. More enthusiasm than finesse, the poor shmuck apparently harbored expert aspirations when he wasn’t even a gifted amateur. He’d never make it to the pros if he couldn’t go any deeper on a cock than that.

  “Shae, order’s up.” Alex pulled down glasses for the two martinis due up next and began measuring the vodka. The four drinks from the previous order sat unclaimed. “Shae, order’s up!”

  Scanning the room, Alex’s gaze quickly located the missing server. Near the back, away from the noise and lights of the stage, Shae stood deep in conversation with Nick. Head tilted, eyes intent, Shae seemed to hang on Nick’s every word. Nick bent attentively low over the much shorter Shae, one hand resting on the bare skin of Shae’s lower back as they talked.

  “Hey Alex, watch what you’re doing.”

  So busy watching Nick and Shae, it took Alex a moment for Teddy’s warning to register. Tearing his gaze away, Alex realized he’d been so distracted that he’d over-poured the vodka, wasting more than a shot’s worth. “Thanks, Teddy.” Alex quickly cleaned up and started the drinks over but the image of Nick, flirtatious and intent on seduction, wouldn’t leave his head.

  Alex knew that look. He knew the exact shade of blue of Nick’s eyes. He’d been on the receiving end of that devastatingly wicked grin. He’d let himself be lulled by the promises made by those inviting pink lips.

  “Hey, barkeep. Can I get an ale when you’re done there, maybe?”

  The voice was distinctive, so much so that visual identification wasn’t really necessary. Still, sliding his gaze sideways, Alex fought to keep a neutral expression on his face. Bartok, everyone’s friendly neighborhood drug connection. “You bet.” Alex swung his gaze back to the task at hand, then on further to his right to see whether or not Teddy was within earshot. “That it? Just an ale?”

  The sandy-haired man grinned amiably at him. “I can’t think of anything else. Can you?”

  “No. I can’t.” Beyond Bartok, Shae smiled teasingly up at Nick, whose hand slid easily down the slope of Shae’s ass as Shae turned to go.

  “I’ll be here for a while -- if you think of anything.”

  Alex started the ale as Bartok’s hand tapped the bar restlessly, turning something half-hidden in his hand end over end. Smiling a little too smugly, Shae picked up his order, a little extra sway in his hips as he walked away. Nick only added to Alex’s hell by coming to stand behind the bar and watch the bartenders work.

  “Get you something tonight, boss?”

  Nick tossed him a variation of the same smile he’d given Shae moments ago, this one with the same easygoing charm, but minus the heat. “They’re keeping you busy tonight, huh?”

  Setting Bartok’s ale in front of him, Alex held out his hand for the man’s credit chip and came away with the chip, plus a little something extra. Alex palmed them both.

  “Yeah, but nothing we can’t handle.” He glanced down at Teddy’s end of the bar, then quickly back to the hand that held Bartok’s card. Alex’s stomach rolled at the small packet tucked discreetly beneath the card. Two small crystals, pink in color, the color that gave the drug its name: pink diamond. “Receipts should be good tonight.”

  Alex nearly came out of his skin when a hand clapped down on his shoulder. “I’ll get out of your way and let you get back to it, then.”

  “You bet.” So grateful that Nick was leaving, it was only when he gulped a hurried breath that Alex identified the light-headed sensation overwhelming him as the effects of stress. Nick’s departure brought it down a notch below overload, but Alex’s heart still pounded and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

  “Well, well. Aren’t you the popular girl at the dance tonight?”

  Alex looked at Bartok and tried to figure out what the hell he was talking about. Bartok just smirked, though, and cast his gaze in the direction of the door. Following the direction of Bartok’s gaze, Alex looked in time to see Sandy making his way across the room.

  The little leap of happiness in Alex’s chest was immediately quash
ed by guilt over what he held in his hand.

  Sandy didn’t approve.

  But Sandy didn’t understand.

  Crap.

  Swiping the card, Alex rang up Bartok’s drink and handed both items back to the man. Bartok’s eyes barely flickered. Just glanced down before pocketing both. “Not what you’re looking for tonight?”

  Sandy was just meters away now.

  “Some other time, maybe.”

  It was eerie, the way crowds seemed to part for Sandy as if by magic, almost. There was no mistaking either the power behind the muscle or the determination in his dark eyes.