Maybe Sandy could be the one to teach Alex, because he didn’t say a word, just tugged on Alex’s arm and gathered Alex to him. Running his hand through Alex’s hair, Sandy started at the nape, raking upward with his fingers against its natural fall. When he reached the top, he slipped his hand out and started over at the bottom. Over and over again.
They lay that way for a while, Sandy petting Alex’s hair and Alex, tucked up under Sandy’s arm, tracing Sandy’s tattoo across his beautifully broad chest again. Alex was determined to understand what the symbols meant, if he had to ask Sandy every day to explain them again.
“Alex?”
“Hmm? What? Don’t stop -- that feels good.” Sandy resumed stroking Alex’s hair again and Alex hugged Sandy close, luxuriating in the feeling of being safe. Sheltered. He’d always wanted his very own white knight. Alex tilted his head back, all the better to take in the rugged beauty of Sandy’s face. Planting a kiss on Sandy’s chiseled jaw, he rested his head on Sandy’s shoulder again.
All of that smooth, warm skin to snuggle up to; his very own personal space-heater. Alex had never associated being naked with a feeling of security before. Before Sandy, he doubted he could even hold the two thoughts in his head at the same time. “So, what were you going to say?”
“Just…” Sandy, unsure of himself? What was that about? “What would you think about moving in here?”
Alex laughed. “Isn’t that what I just did, pretty much?”
“Not just as a temporary thing, though. I mean, what if you stayed?” The hand stroking Alex’s hair paused. “You’d have more time to look around for a good job, instead of feeling pressured to take the first thing you found, if you didn’t have to worry about paying rent.”
“That’s… wow. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes.”
“But…” Alex tried to read Sandy’s expression, but he was wearing what Alex thought of as his soldier look. Stone-faced. “I can’t let you do that, Sandy. You’ve done too much already. I just need a place for a few nights until I get a -- Oh, crap! What time is it?”
“I don’t know. Fourteen-hundred, maybe? Uh… yeah, fourteen-twenty-five.”
Alex scrambled out of bed and began frantically searching for his clothes. “Crap, crap, crap. Sandy, where’re my shoes? Damn it. I’m late!”
Rolling out of bed, Sandy reached under the mattress’ small overhang. “Right here. What are you late for?”
“The interview. At The Busted Flush.” Having hurriedly climbed into his pants, Alex stuffed an arm into one of the uncooperative shirt’s sleeves. “I can finish buttoning on my way to the tram. Quick! Hand me my shoes. Aw, damn it! I need this job.”
His stomach suddenly a ball of anxiety, Alex shoved his feet into his shoes and looked around. What else did he need? A coat? Probably wouldn’t hurt to wear one. His hair was a mess, no doubt. Shit. Henry had offered to help him with his hair. Wouldn’t make enough difference to matter anyway. No big loss there.
“The interview? What interview? Here.” Pants and shoes on, Sandy stood, offering a comb with one hand while he reached for his shirt with the other. “I’m coming with you. How long do you think it will take?”
“I have no idea. Probably not all that long. They’ll already have my work record -- not much to write home about there. I mix a few drinks for them. Maybe take a math test. Sandy, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. I’ll just comm them on the way, explain that I’ll be a little late.”
“Calm down, okay? You’re not doing yourself any favors by giving yourself a heart attack.” Mostly dressed himself now, Sandy took Alex’s chin in one hand, the other resting on Alex’s shoulder. “I’ve been in the Flush and they’d be lucky to have you, so don’t stress, all right? Getting yourself all excited won’t get you there any faster. Ever heard the saying, ‘Make haste slowly’?”
“No.”
“It means move ahead, but do it deliberately. You’ll be fine. Besides, I’m going to come along, too. Don’t worry -- I’ll wait outside. All right?”
It was easy to see what made Sandy such a good leader. That big hand on his shoulder felt like it was the only thing keeping Alex’s mind and body from separating, the sensation of calm flowing into him through it was almost palpable.
Alex had to reach up in order to loop his arms around Sandy’s neck and lock them in place. Resting his head on Sandy’s powerful chest, even for just a moment, was reassuring and when he leaned back, breathing deeply as he let his lower body come into contact with Sandy’s again, Alex smiled up into Sandy’s eyes. “Thanks. You’re the best. I don’t deserve you. Listen, Sandy, you don’t have to do that, though. Just walk me to the thing -- the whatever -- the tram. I’ll be fine.”
Sandy looked doubtful. “I don’t know. I think I’d better come with you.”
“I’m not some stupid kid, you know. I think I can make it from the tram to the saloon.”
Not budging a millimeter, Sandy took Alex’s chin in his hand again. “I didn’t say you were, honey, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t bad guys out there who’d take you out without blinking an eye. Everybody can use a friend. There’s no shame in wanting a little company.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Alex got a funny feeling in his chest at the idea that Sandy was offering friendship to him -- to the guy who didn’t know much of anything except sex and booze. He brushed a finger over Sandy’s stern mouth. “I’d like it if you were my friend.”
“Good. So let’s quit wasting time and get you over to your new job.” Sandy dropped a quick kiss on Alex’s mouth and, caught off guard, Alex staggered a little beneath the force of it.
Out the door and headed down the hall now, Alex continued to argue his point. “Sandy, I’m sure you have more important things to do than play my chauffeur. Like, why don’t you take a nap or something? You’d probably like to catch up on some of your sleep.”
An arm looped casually around his shoulder, Sandy argued right back. “I’m sure Sarhaan and Kai will find some pain-in-the-ass job or other for me -- as soon as they manage to track me down. In the meantime, though, I want to spend some time with you. If that’s okay with you?”
“Sandy, you know I—”
The heavy thunk of boots pounding on the metal grating below their feet reached them and Sandy turned to face the oncoming rush. Instantly on alert, Sandy’d already stepped between whatever it was and Alex when the details of Naslund’s breathless shout told them it was friendly.
“Chief! Thank God! Can you come quick? The water treatment system’s exploded. There’s water everywhere. We need you to triage!”
“Goddammit. Shit. Fuck. What happened?”
“I don’t know, but there’s water all gushing and Kai says you’re the only one who knows what’s critical to save now and what we can fix later. Chief, please!”
Alex realized his hands clutched the loose fabric of Sandy’s shirt, the urgency in Jake Naslund’s voice coming through loud and clear and transmitting itself to Alex and Sandy. Sandy glanced down, craning his neck around, seeking Alex’s gaze with his own. “Alex, shit, I think I gotta go. I’ve got to go take care of this.”
“I told you, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Unless they want me to start right away, I’ll be back after the interview.” Naslund was inching closer, as though prepared to pry Sandy loose if he had to, and all but vibrating with anxiety. Smiling understandingly at Sandy’s teammate, Alex placed a hand on Sandy’s chest. “It’s okay. Go save the day.”
Sandy stared hard at Alex, covering Alex’s hand with one of his own. “Okay. You’ll come straight back?”
“Yes, mother.” Alex couldn’t resist a smile at Sandy’s over-protectiveness.
“Be careful, would you? I’m not fooling around, here.”
“Chief, please.” Naslund actually reached out to Sandy’s arm now, for emphasis.
“Okay. I’ll be fine. Now go.”
Giving Alex’s hand a final squeeze, Sandy
took off -- in the direction of the water treatment room, Alex presumed -- and Alex stole another few seconds to watch Sandy’s long, purposeful strides taking him away from Alex and back to his crew. Sandy’s duty. Alex tried to squelch the little stab of jealousy that flared up.
What would it be like to have Sandy look at him that way?
***
The Busted Flush was a solid two notches below Durty Nelly’s. Where Nelly’s was clean and first class all the way, the Flush was clearly a working man’s bar. Instead of floors spotless enough to eat off of and live entertainment, Alex’s shoes squeaked from the sticky residue while zoned-out miners and meat farmers watched a three-d simulation on a raised dais in the corner that would only look real after several of the house’s cut rate drinks.
Alex followed the employee who’d met him at the door to the manager’s office in the back. Not the most promising signs, to be sure, still… he needed a job. Sandy’s good will wouldn’t last forever and Alex had better have some kind of reliable income going when it finally gave out. The glassy look in several of the patrons’ eyes was equally daunting, since it meant that drugs were present to a degree they weren’t at Nelly’s.
“Here you go.” The doorman would never have made it to an actual interview at Nelly’s with his low personal grooming standards and ill-fitting clothes. The man’s pants hung low enough off his well padded butt to give Alex a peek at assets he would rather not be forced to acknowledge, as well as smelling like he and decent hygiene were no longer on even a nodding acquaintance.
“Thanks.” Alex smiled weakly, grateful that at least the man didn’t appear to be the leering type. On the contrary, he barely acknowledge Alex’s existence. “How do you like working here?”
“It’s a job.” Not bothering to make eye contact, the man swung a cheap synthetic door aside and gestured for Alex to enter. “Good luck.”
Alex knew things were going south when he found himself hoping he didn’t get the job, just so he wouldn’t have to work with the greasy doorman. The greeter was the customer’s first contact with the establishment and any smart business owner knew that first impressions counted.
“Mister Valentine, won’t you come in?”
The distinctive accent sent a chill skittering down Alex’s spine as he froze in place, one foot inside the door.
“Come, come. So nice to see you again.” Vasily Brasov sat behind the battered desk, the new, expensive-looking chair he occupied an incongruous mate for it. “Don’t be shy. We are all old friends here. I hope you’ll let bygones be bygones, Mister Valentine?”
Alex tried to back quietly out of the office, only to find that the unkempt greeter blocked his retreat.
“Where are you going? Don’t tell me you’ve decided you don’t want the job, after all?” Brasov stood. “That’s all right. I think you’ll forgive us when you see what else we have to offer. A much better position with perquisites that… well, let’s just say I don’t think you’ll even dream of considering turning it down. Am I right, Jim?”
Brasov turned his head and it was only then that Alex spotted, tucked away in a corner, far from the room’s only light, the man seated in a nondescript, high-backed leather chair. The man stood and moved easily toward Alex, trapped as he was by the doorman’s big body.
The chill that washed over Alex confirmed the identity in a way that the light finally falling on his well-bred face couldn’t.
It was him.
“Hi, Alex. It took a while to find you, but I couldn’t lose you. You mean too much to me. We mean so much to each other. I had to find you. You look well -- a little heavy perhaps, but we can fix that.”
In a brutal, visceral flash, it all came crashing down on Alex.
The memories.
The beatings.
This one liked pain -- not his own, of course, Alex’s -- so there’d been no salvation of unconsciousness for Alex when this man visited Earthly Delights.
Drugs there had certainly been, though. Plenty. To keep him aware. Erect. And, most of all, compliant.
Resistance was futile and old behaviors came back with the sickening familiarity of long habit. Alex averted his gaze, ducking his head respectfully. “Master James.”
He wanted to die.
Alex hoped that this time it finally killed him.
Chapter 18
“That’s it. I’m done.”
Sandy threw down the phase wrench he’d been wielding like a cudgel for the past several hours, trying to beat the ship’s water treatment system into submission. He still hadn’t figured out the original source of the problem, being too caught up in trying to stem the flow of water, but he’d managed to get things marginally under control. Enough to stop and catch his breath, anyway; flex his hands and rub the aching joints. He’d had to do some major rerouting as a stop-gap measure. Who knew how long tracking the problem back to its source would take him?
Xuwicha and Naslund gave him measuring looks and Sandy wasn’t surprised when Nas let Kai speak for both of them. “We’re not done, though. How long do you think this patch job will hold?”
Bent over giving his bad knee a surreptitious rub, Sandy straightened, glancing over at the monstrosity of a jerry-rigged job he’d decided to call good for the time-being. “Don’t know. A day or two, at least; maybe longer if we don’t have to run it under load. Do we know when our next run is scheduled for?”
“The deal with the Martian miners guild doesn’t kick in until next month. We were hoping to pick up something short term between now and then.” As wet and grubby as Sandy, Kai’s face nonetheless reflected nothing. No hint of emotion marred his flawless mask of calm -- probably what had made him so good at Intel for so long. Or maybe he’d mastered the ability to reflect all the fire and emotion of a mid-level bureaucrat as a result of the job, Sandy’d never figured out which.
“For now, I’d recommend against it. Too many things still need fixing and I don’t think I need to point out that if something’s going to fail, I want it to fail while we’re here in port, not a million kilometers from a stable source of oxygen.”
“Good point.” Naslund was putting tools away, meticulously wiping down each one before stowing it back in the cabinet. One of the reasons Sandy never minded having Nas on his team: the man respected his tools. “You going to tell Sarhaan we’re knocking off for the night?”
“Yeah. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had one helluva week and I’m ready for things to slow down a little. I’m gettin’ too old for this shit.” Sandy retrieved the wrench and handed it to Nas to put away. “I think I’m ready for a vacation.”
Kai just laughed at him. “Listen to you -- you even sound like a civilian. Vacation. What? You start getting it regular and suddenly you’re ready to retire?”
“We’re not all married to the job, Xuwicha. You could stand to de-stress a little bit yourself.” Sandy pressed the call button on the nearby comm unit.
“Bridge -- Adams.”
“Hey, Cal. I’m looking for Sarhaan. Is he there?”
“Yeah, sure thing. Just a second.”
While he waited for Sarhaan to pick up, Xuwicha caught Sandy’s eye as he grabbed his package and mouthed ‘de-stress,’ before heading for the door. Sandy grinned and nodded as Naslund trailed Kai out the door.
“D’abu, what’s the status?”
Folding his arms across his chest, Sandy shoved his hands under his armpits, the warmth of his body there easing the ache in his fingers. “We’re okay for now. It’s going to take some major reworking, though. I just hope we didn’t lose so much that I have to start over cycling the system again. Jesus, I’m so done with that.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. So. You’re finished for tonight?”
“Done and then some. Hey, do me a favor?” Work out of the way, Sandy’s brain had time to process personal things again.
“What’s that?”
“After I get to my quarters, don’t call me for, oh say, eight or ten hours?”
> “I admire the scope of your ambition, friend.” Sarhaan’s tone was as close to actual laughter as it was likely to get in a work situation.
Things had gotten a lot looser since they’d left Earth and Sandy could say what he thought without the need to filter it. “Fuck you. I’m outta here.”
“Okay, I’ll-- Whoa, hold on a second. Caleb wants to say something.”
Cal’s voice, came on. “Sandy, when you see Alex, would you have him comm me?”
“Sure, but why don’t you just comm him yourself? He should be back by now. Did you try my quarters?”
“Yeah, I did. He’s not there. Ship’s log shows him leaving, but nothing after that.”
Off World 2: Sanctuary Page 21