Chapter 57 - Dancing With Fire
Jack tends to Ian's wounds, both physical and mental, while Vin and Hugh drink and plot.
Back to Chapter 56
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)
'I Hope You Dance' Lee Ann Womack
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q6ZFAwByaKA
Vin shushed Ian's protests and just held him tighter when tears welled in the beauty's blue eyes. In one smooth motion he stood and pressed Ian's face into his shoulder, away from prying eyes. He caught the eye of the first staff member he saw.
"Warrick, find the doctor. If he's not here, have him summoned." The milling partygoers parted before his growling countenance as he marched in the direction of the kitchen. "...And our Boone wants Craig. Find him and send him in," Vin called over his shoulder to Warrick's nod of understanding.
As soon as Greg had disappeared, Hugh stood back and looked for Vin, but the wolf was busy with one of his pack. He moved away from the stairs, feeling as though thousands of eyes were on him, and made for the bar instead. Once he had a hand on the wooden surface he felt a little less baffled, although no less alone. He had caught sight of Sawyer but the bunny had apparently turned vampire and was definitely not going to be impressed if he was disturbed.
Sighing, Hugh thanked Billy for the drink and made his way to a shadowy spot and a seat he could view the room from.
It took some doing and minor histrionics, clutching of and dampening of his shirt, and shrill ear-piercing squeals of shock and dismay when Craig made an appearance. But, Ian was ensconced in the breakfast room (once Cook had satisfied herself that Ian wasn't at death's door, she'd shooed them out of her busy kitchen to the cozy room next door), safely in Craig's arms, mugs of chocolate in hand, and Warrick ordered by Cook to stand guard now that the doctor had been summoned.
Desperately in need of a beer or stiffer drink, Vin took the outer hallway straight to the bar. Brushing ineffectually at a large chocolate stain, Vin frowned at the sorry state of his shirt while Billy poured a shot and then drew a beer. As Vin tossed back the rum, a shadowy figure in the corner momentarily caught the wavering light from a wall sconce.
Beer in hand, Vin moved over. "This a party for one, or can a weary survivor join?" he asked Hugh in a low rumble.
Hugh had sunk a little lower on his chair as the time went on, more than happy to take an opportunity for a quick breather. He looked up at the wolf and smiled gently before waving a hand to the nearest seat in invitation.
"Help yourself. You, uh, lost your friend?" Hugh eyed the somewhat messy shirt and grinned a little more. "And you might look a little neater if you took your shirt off, y'know."
"Thanks," Vin lowered himself into the chair with a heart-felt sigh. Once he'd swallowed a healthy slug of beer, he heaved a deeper sigh and rolled his eyes at his companion. "I swear, the boys can be more girly than the girls at times. Once I knew Ian wasn't seriously harmed, I couldn't escape all the feminine frippery and squealing fast enough."
He drank again, sliding a little lower on the seat himself. Lazily he waggled a finger at Hugh, "You just want me stripped off again; think I'm tired enough to be a pushover."
Hugh considered that prospect and grinned.
"True. And are you?"
Nearly choking on his next swallow, Vin clapped Hugh's shoulder and laughed uproariously. "Only in your dreams, mate. And for that, the next round's on you," he purred, eyes twinkling at the double entendre.
"I hope not, I've already bathed twice today. One more and I'll turn into a prune," he snorted, and glanced at Vin's glass. "Same again or something stronger?"
"This'll do." Content to stay put for a while and just shoot the breeze, the beer was just the right type of lubricant to keep Vin on an even keel.
"Thank god for that. I'm not sure I could cope with you swinging off the chandeliers," Hugh commented idly, relaxing in his chair as he surveyed the surroundings. "You're a little large to catch, for a start."
Hugh paused to take a mouthful of his own drink, then glanced at Vin thoughtfully. "So... how often d'you get a chance to play?"
Vin snorted softly and rolled his eyes before drinking again. "Normal nights, depends on how busy, or how many newer members are about and need 'watching'," he responded with a half-smirk and leer, "Advantage to this being a private, members-only house. Incidents like you just saw are rare, but they do happen when a man's too far into his cups, or feels the need to test the laxity of our security. The fear of wondering how closely Wang-zu and his boys are connected to the Tongs keeps most of the rowdier souls in line whenever Eric or I are 'playing'."
He drained his beer and flicked a meaningful look between Hugh and the empty glass. A low chuckle erupted as he thought back to the minor altercation. "That bastard is damned lucky. That tiny knife pinch coulda severed a vital organ if it hadn't been Wang-zu's favorite nephew hurdling the bar and covering the bastard's 'tender' bits.
Hugh winced, mostly as he considered the problems that could happen if Vin worked out what the actual situation was with Bana. If a little knife fight was all in a day's work for the man, sorting out a kidnapping was probably going to be a piece of cake. Jackman found his gaze wandering to Vin's hands; big, powerful and probably able to break a fully grown grizzly bear in half.
"You're really impressive when you get going," he commented.
Waving off the statement with an audible 'pfft', Vin gave credit where it was due. "Between Stokes and the servants, was over before I even arrived."
He sized up his drinking companion in turn. "You have the look of one who'd be mighty impressive yourself. Definitely would prefer to be on the same side in a fight."
"Yeah?" Hugh grinned back at him and stretched lazily, looking at Vin with even more thought. He was right. It would be much easier to be on the same side, even if Vin wasn't aware what that would actually entail.
"Fancy perhaps... experimenting?" Hugh's voice dropped to a velvety purr worthy of royalty.
About to less subtly remind Hugh that the next round was on him, an involuntary shiver skated down Vin's spine. The tone alone had his flesh twitching in interest before the words penetrated.
"Experimenting?" he repeated huskily, "How; with what?" Before too much good sense flowed south, one eyebrow lowered. "Thought you weren't into the kinkier side of things?"
"I can do kinky. I just need to know the people beforehand." Hugh licked his bottom lip lazily, eyeing Vin thoughtfully. "And I was wondering whether you'd like to help me out with Mr. Bana. See whether he'd like to join us."
"Eric?" The front legs of Vin's leant-back chair hit the floor with a thud. "Why would you want to involve that toadying sheep bug... uh..." Lips snapping shut, Vin leaned forward conspiratorially, "What do you have in mind?"
The lusty interest Vin was trying to project was probably ruined by the gleeful light in his eyes at the thought of getting one over on (and hopefully both of them into) his irritating yet sexy roommate.
Hugh raised an eyebrow at the comment, and grinned to himself. Toadying sheep buggerer, eh? Well, that was a good start.
"Well," he dropped his voice a little lower, turning it into a purr. "Perhaps we could get him a little more..." Hugh paused for dramatic effect and to work out the correct word, "...flexible. He seems remarkably straight laced, and straight laces really need to be untied, don't you think?"
"Mmm, yes," Vin rumbled. Finally, he thought. Someone who understood how frustratingly irritating was Eric's unbending attitude to him (and obviously to his new friend Hugh). Often too talkative, eager to please anyone else, just like a massive lap dog. Hell, the man even had curls flopping over his the liquid brown eyes of a pooch. Alone, Vin knew it would take too much effort to convince Eric he was a natural bottom. With Hugh's assistance though... endless and delicious were the possibilities.
"Plotting is thirsty work. Go arrange refills. Hell, have Billy bring over a bottle and fill a pitcher. This may take a while, yes?"
"Yes sir!" Hugh gave a smart salute and went off to the bar to arrange the hardest drinks he could without being too obvious. Orders given, he sauntered back and settled himself into the chair, wearing a grin that the Cheshire Cat would probably be impressed with. Oh, this was getting better and better! No doubt Vin could persuade the man to turn up to secluded areas with ease, and at least it saved him trying to find an explanation on why they really had to meet in a security light spot.
"Thought you and he were quite close," he commented, "Don't you share a room or something?"
Pouring shots for both, Vin explained the shared sitting room flanked by two small and separate bedrooms over the carriage house. Warming to his subject (as the smooth whiskey warmed his innards), Vin regaled his drinking buddy with small tales about sharing just the common room and bath with Eric.
"Lordy, there are days I seriously consider marching downstairs and finding a way to adapt a bridle to muzzle him when he's in an excessively chatty mood."
Hugh gave him a brilliantly innocent smile.
"I'm sure we can do that if you wish," he murmured softly, "Wouldn't take much, you know. Could even adapt a saddle to use if you could get him in the right position..."
Legs stretched out and settling well back into his chair, a shit-eating grin broke over Vin's face. His eyelids fluttered, nearly closing as he envisioned Eric's tight and shapely rear upended for their delectation.
"Saddle, yeah. Like the way your mind works; wickedly, deviously delicious," he rumbled at long last.
"Me? I'm sweet and innocent," Hugh grinned back. "So, how d'you think the best way is to persuade him he should be doing this? A bit of alcohol, a sweet whisper in his ear, that type of thing?"
"Nah, that'd be too subtle for the likes of Eric." Vin poured more whiskey and sipped lazily from his glass. "We'd need a more direct approach. You, drenched in melted chocolate, might do the trick." Vin leered at Hugh, recalling their small adventure with honey and other sticky substances.
Hugh grinned back at him, at ease with the fooling around. God, if they managed to get Eric tied up in a little, out of the way spot, then suddenly the task seemed that much closer to being fulfilled. And hell, it was always better to plot in pairs than on your own. Two dubious minds were better than one, and Vin seemed to possess one of the sneakiest, devious minds out there.
Oh yeah, Hugh mused as they settled back to watch a pair of dancing girls take to the center of the room to swirl around like peacocks. Things were looking up.
Ian was having more trouble with this whole thing than he ought to, but he just wanted Jack! How hard could it be to find him? One of the servants said he'd seen the doctor there earlier, and now Ian knew that, he was losing the plot in a serious way. After the other night when he'd told Jack his story, Ian had somehow felt more fragile than ever before, and the only one who could calm him when he got worked up seemed to be Jack.
All the people fluttering around Ian had made him lose his cool and he practically threw half his hot chocolate at Vin in his fury. Luckily it hadn't been too hot and it wasn't long after that when the big bouncer had admitted defeat and left him to the women and Craig's tender mercies. Even the usually quiet Warrick was catching the sharp end of Boone's tongue tonight. He'd shifted uncomfortably at the insult tossed at him and then discretely disappeared seconds later.
Cook had insisted they go into the breakfast room and Ian found he couldn't stand the thought of Kate and Claire being there to see him at his weakest either. The idea of them whispering about him behind his back later about how much more of a sissy he was than most of the girls was enough to make his blood boil.
"You two can fuck off as well," he hissed at them as he rolled his sleeve back down again and moved into the other room, "Haven't you see a bruise before? Go ask Sawyer to show you his ass after Naveen's flogged him sometime! It looks a damned sight worse than this! Come on, Craig," he growled, grabbing Craig by the hand and practically dragging the other whore after him.
Craig gave the girls a hopeless smile and then apologised softly to Cook, whose countenance was starting to look very dark as her patience at Boone's antics wore thin.
Shutting the door behind them, Craig cooed, "Come here, sweetie. Let me give you a proper cuddle? That ugly ogre had no right to manhandle you like that. Warrick'll find Jack soon, don't worry. Are you hurt anywhere else?"
"My ribs ache," Boone admitted, nodding as he let Craig wrap him in warm and comforting arms.
By rights, Ian and Craig should be a couple, if Ian could feel anything beyond a kind of grateful warmth that his friend never lost his patience with him, no matter how horrible he was being to everyone around him. But somehow, although he'd had sex with him on more than one occasion and he did love him, he couldn't make himself feel anywhere near in love with the kindly New Zealander. That was reserved for-well, he had to admit it to himself now, really-Jack. Not that he'd tell anyone else, but Jack at least knew it and that meant something, he supposed, even if anything beyond the relationship they now managed seemed out of reach.
"Where is Jack?" he mumbled into Craig's soft neck and held on tighter.
The party certainly was a lively one, especially in Jack's eyes. There were more people packed into the parlours then there usually were over several nights combined. It seemed like every client was in attendance, even those who weren't regulars, along with at least one potential customer. Friends of the house were in there as well, from other proprietors to former staff. Music was playing as well, and everyone was in a gay mood. Jack had overindulged in drink even more then usual, and when the festivities began to overwhelm him, he had stumbled off to find an open bed.
He wasn't sure how long he had been sleeping for when one of Wang-zu's uncountable family members began calling his name. For the most part he ignored the noise, until another voice joined in and a warm hand began to shake him awake. He blearily opened his eyes, and his swimming vision focused on the bright green of Warrick's eyes.
The next few moments passed in a blur. All Jack knew for sure was that somehow he had ended up in the kitchen, with a mug of coffee being forced upon him by Cook. No one would really tell him what was going on; just that he was being summoned and that he needed to sober up.
Everyone seemed rather flustered, and no one was answering any of his questions. Cook, especially, didn't seem to want anything to do with him, and her face was tight as she moved about the kitchen. Jack himself found himself growing rather frustrated at the lack of answers, and began to seriously contemplate going back to bed if no one was going to even tell him who wanted to speak with him.
Wishing he'd been able to escape when Vin did, Warrick stuck it out as long as he could. Granted it was only a tongue lashing and not the outright hissy-fit melt-down from earlier. Once Boone's attention was directed elsewhere, he slipped off to see what could be done to hasten the doctor.
Other than a small bruise, Warrick couldn't discern further injury, but if fetching the doctor put an end to the shrill histrionics, he was all for it. By the time he mounted to the second floor where he assumed Dr. Jack was washing up after his nap, a servant tidying one of the rooms nodded Warrick back down, stating in broken English that the doctor wasn't ready to see the patient.
Grumbling the whole way down the back stairs, the sight in the kitchen halted him in his tracks. The creature lolling on the bench with a gaggle of servants milling around him was not the man who had treated Warrick a few short weeks ago. Though quiet, that man had been efficient, and for the most part steady-handed. The close cut hair was the same, but this one was puffy and pasty faced, frame shaking as if palsied. Warrick stared agog at the countenance of a drunkard. He'd only had a glimpse earlier when he found Dr. Jack upstairs, the servant with him having hustled Warrick back out of the bedroom.
He sidled as close as he dared, staying out of reach from a flailing arm batting away a mug of strong coffee. "He's in no condition to even see young Boone, let alone treat the child." Warrick spoke to one of Cook's helpers.
It had taken one word, one simple word, and Jack was on his feet. He nudged staff aside until he had a clear view of Warrick. The doctor stumbled closer, and when he stood in front of the tall mulatto, he held out one hand in hopes of pausing any possible movements. His other hand covered his mouth, as he tried to still his rolling stomach.
"Did you just say what I think you said? No one told me that it was Ian who wanted me, and certainly no one mentioned that he was injured."
Jack glanced around at the others, trying to read their expressions to see if he could get any hint at just how badly his dearest one was hurt. "Where were the bouncers? Why didn't anyone stop what was going on?"
The doctor's stomach churned harder, and a cold sweat broke out on his face. "For Gods sake, I'm his doctor! Why aren't I with him? He needs me! Where is he?"
The sour, boozy breath wafting into his face had Warrick reeling more than the doctor's sudden appearance right before him. "Dieu! Good God man yourself." Warrick reached out to grasp the man wobbling on his feet. "The incident was minor and handled within moments. You are in no condition to go into the breakfast room like that."
"Breakf..." Jack trailed off, looking in the direction of the closed door. Ian was right there, harmed and in need of him. "I have to go to him..." Ian needed him; Warrick wouldn't understand; couldn't understand. Ian wouldn't care what state he was in, but he couldn't let him wait.
He tugged away from Warrick, his entire focus on getting to the one that held his heart.
The door to the breakfast room being tugged open made Ian lift his head from where he was comfortably cuddled up still in Craig's arms. He'd heard some small commotion outside the room, but honestly didn't care if it didn't involve Jack being showed straight in here now!
Eyes opening wide at the familiar visage appearing, Ian jumped out of Craig's arms and flew across the room, smashing into the doctor's chest with a breathless, "Jack!" as his tears started anew.
Craig watched from where he'd been abandoned, not terribly surprised to see how quickly he was forgotten once handsome Dr. Jack was in the room. Boone had been smitten with him for months-no matter how much he protested-and despite the man's deep love affair with liquor, there was no one else the man visited, so perhaps he did care more than a little for Ian. Craig hoped like hell the man had enough feeling for his pretty young friend, anyway, because Boone had clearly had a hard life (although Craig suspected he knew only the smallest part of Ian's story) and he deserved some kind of happiness, even if he did seem to act out far more than was good for him. If Jack ever did anything that Craig thought was likely to hurt Ian, he would have Craig to answer to, anyway.
Narrowing his eyes as the two men embraced in front of him, Craig wondered just how much the doctor had drunk tonight-he was looking even more seedy than usual.
Jack's eyes stung with tears as soon as Ian collided with him, and he hugged the slight figure as close to him as he possibly could. From the moment he'd first heard his beloved's name mentioned until this very moment, a panic unlike Jack had ever known filled him. All he'd been able to think was, if Ian was harmed, why hadn't they rushed him in? Warrick's explanations were worthless. The only time you delay the doctor was if... No, Jack wasn't even going to think along those lines, not now that he had Ian in his arms.
The doctor pressed frantic kisses to wherever he could reach, still desperate to reassure himself that Ian was safe and whole. Words escaped him, as they often did, but he wished he could tell his lovely how much Ian's mere presence eased his heart and all his pains. How thankful he was that all injuries seemed minimal.
Without even a glance at Craig, Jack ushered Ian towards a chair. "Let me look you over; make sure you're alright."
Seeing how superfluous he was, Craig stood up, murmuring, "I'll just leave you to it then..." and realising the other two weren't paying him the least amount of attention, he smiled wryly and moved out the door, closing it quietly behind him. He might not have even been there, for all the notice Jack had taken of him.
Ian nodded as Jack directed him into a chair, his heart bouncing about like crazy. Jack was so... so... caring. More caring than he should be really, especially concerning Ian, but Boone was glad of it anyway. The delicate kisses rained upon him had proven Jack was at least a little bit in love with him, anyway, and after their discussion the other day, Ian's heart was melting just a tiny bit. He was frightened to be too dependent on this man, considering what happened to every other person he'd loved, but... he needed Jack now.
"I don't know if they told you what happened? I have a couple of bruises, but they're not really that bad. I just..." he paused, taking a careful breath and looking up at Jack with tears brimming near the surface. Why was he so weak? He really should be a girl by rights. "Well, you know, with... everything I told you... I don't... when someone... I can't handle it." Shaking his head, Ian dropped his eyes again and began to roll up the sleeve of his robe again so Jack could see the darkening bruise on his upper arm.
"They told me nothing. Made me wait." Jack hated them all the more for keeping him out of the room, especially when this was enough to make his Ian cry. He should have been able to be there for Ian, not ridiculed by Warrick. Who was he to say Jack was unfit, anyway?
At the sight of the bruise, the doctor carefully took Ian's arm in his hands. It was bad, and would most likely be tender for a few days, but thankfully, once the color faded there would be no lasting signs. And there wasn't much that Jack could do for it, except maybe ice it to reduce inflammation.
And kiss the wound away. Jack felt silly doing it; he was a doctor and there was no real healing to be found in such a gesture. But nonetheless, the pressed his lips gently against the mark.
Ian wasn't sure he wanted to tell Jack what had happened now. It seemed so minor, and usually he was quite able to handle the grabby customers in public. This one had been a little more insistent than some, though, and as Jack shifted to kiss his arm, Boone felt a twinge in his side at the other place the man had grabbed. He hadn't even looked at that yet, and a sense of shame at being so unable to deal with this right now stopped him from saying anything to Jack.
Closing his eyes, Ian swallowed hard, trying to control the tears so close to the surface. When he felt able to speak, he opened his eyes slowly, focusing back on Jack kneeling beside him, the doctor's soft lips still caressing his bruised skin. The simple gesture of comfort was the most touching thing Boone had experienced in a while, and the tenderness almost set off his tears again.
Blinking, he fought them and murmured, "Will you stay with me tonight?" A sudden fear that Jack would think him too bold for asking such a thing made a cold shiver run eerily down his spine. "I'm... I can't go out there again; not tonight."
Jack looked up at Ian with wide eyes, his surprise obvious. He masked the emotion as quickly as possible, but it had taken a moment. "You want me to stay with you?" They'd never done that; purposely slept next to one another only to wake up together the following morning. "Of course I will."
Without letting Ian respond to his assent, Jack stroked his fingers through the boy-girl's hair. "Are you sure you don't want to rejoin the party? We could find a quiet place to sit; just you and I. We could have some food, enjoy the music..." He would be willing to do anything, if it meant that Ian could calm down and possibly enjoy the rest of the night.
Jack's horror at Ian's suggestion seemed evident and Ian dropped his eyes, knowing he'd pushed things too far by asking what he had. Even though Jack then went on to say he would stay, Boone wasn't sure he believed him. He was probably only agreeing to get Ian to calm down, and when he suggested they go back to the party, Boone felt this was just confirmation of his unwillingness to sleep with Ian when it wasn't about sex.
"Okay, sure, yeah," he managed, holding his emotions back and keeping his eyes downcast.
No matter what they had said to each other the other day when Ian had given away more of himself to Jack than he'd ever done with anyone before, he was still far too scared about their relationship--such that it was--to believe that Jack wasn't just trying to ease himself away as carefully as he could without upsetting Boone further.
It was foolish of him to believe Jack would even want someone so damaged as him in any way other than as a whore, in any case, no matter what assurances he'd given.
"Let's... let's go back out there now. Just a quiet corner somewhere; have something to eat, like you say. Maybe Billy will be playing something soft and..." Ian stopped, blinking away the rest of his tears and managing to dredge up some kind of cool façade from God knew where; the one he kept for his usual clients but that he so rarely wore for Jack any more. He certainly couldn't let the man know this was the last thing he felt like doing.
And if the barman was playing some old folk song by now, chances were Sawyer would be singing, if he wasn't still busy fucking whichever of tonight's conquests were still hanging around. That would really rub things in good and proper, wouldn't it? Boone gave another cool smile and stood up. Sawyer was actually a very good singer, and Ian could forget it was him-Jack's former lover-if he closed his eyes.
"Let's go," he told Jack, holding out a hand and waiting for Jack to take it.
Something wasn't right about Ian, but every time Jack came near to putting his finger on what the issue was, Ian's face would change and the doctor would be clueless once more. He decided finally to take Ian's word for it, and took the offered hand in his own.
It took Jack a moment to stand, but as soon as he had his feet he helped pull Ian up to meet him. He ran his fingertips along Ian's jaw, before cupping the base of Ian's skull and bringing the much-loved mouth to meet his own. The kiss was a short but firm press of lips against lips, but it was enough that Jack pulled away with a soft smile.
In the parlour, it appeared that most people had moved elsewhere. Which was fine, as far as Jack was concerned. He didn't take note of who was where; the only thing he felt worth noticing was the open booth in a dim corner. He ushered Ian into the seat, before pressing a soft kiss to the boy-girl's forehead. "Stay right here, beauty. I'll go get you something tasty."
Ian looked around while he waited for Jack to return with food, but luckily there weren't too many people about just now. Thankfully, Sawyer wasn't one of them; he would have been the hardest to deal with. After carefully tossing his hair back over his shoulder and offering an aloof stare around the room, just daring anyone to try anything with him, Ian turned his eyes back towards where Jack had disappeared just in time to see the man returning with a plate of tidbits.
He offered him a cool smile as Jack put the plate down, and shifted enough to allow his favourite client room to sit next to him on the leather seat of the booth, rather than take a chair opposite. No matter how confused Boone still was about their relationship, he needed Jack's warmth near to him now. It held some of the only strength he could find and he wasn't sure what he'd have done if Jack hadn't come when he needed him.
"Thank you," he said as Jack slid in beside him and pressed his warm side against Ian's. Boone put a hand on Jack's thigh - not to stir his desire, but because he needed to touch him and it was the closest thing he could hold while still attempting some pretence of normality.
"Wang-zu?" he caught the servant's attention as he walked past, "Could you please bring some whiskey for Dr. Jack? And two glasses."
Wang-zu nodded and disappeared towards the bar as Ian turned back towards Jack, his careful façade of aloofness still in place. "I'm sorry about before, Jack. And about the other night. I... I ask too much of you. You don't have to stay with me tonight; I'll be fine."
Jack couldn't help smiling. Just a small, pleased grin, but it was there to stay. The hand on his leg made happy butterflies dance in his stomach. He knew it probably meant little to nothing, but it was comforting and it made him feel wanted.
And while it wasn't that odd for Jack to want whiskey, the fact that his darling had taken the initiative to order it made him feel as warm as if the liquor was already in his belly. Ian often fetched the doctor drinks, especially in private. But this felt different. The number of glasses made him pause, but he didn't comment on it.
When Ian finally addressed him, the words were so shocking it made Jack let out a surprised noise. "What? No, no. I want to. I'd spend all the time you'd allow pressed up against you."
Ian smoothed the hand he had on Jack's thigh back and forth a little as he smiled at the man. A funny tickling sensation had started inside him and Boone wasn't sure he understood it, but perhaps it meant that things were alright. He had no wish to force his best client into anything he didn't want, and asking him to stay overnight after their emotions had been swirling around so confusedly over the last few days may have been a mistake, but if Jack was willing, then Ian wasn't about to let him slip away now.
"Thank you," he offered simply and softly.
Dreams they may be, but at least they had something substantial and real attached; a warm body holding him close, and one large enough to protect Boone from any evil nightmares.
Wang-zu appeared then with the drinks, and Ian nodded his thanks and began to pour a large whiskey for Jack and a smaller one for himself. He'd not get too drunk, just tipsy enough to take the edge off his worry.
Billy was playing something soft and low on the piano by now, and the couple of girls still in the parlours were dancing; one of them, Claire, with the dealer, Dom, and the other, tall and stunningly beautiful Livvie with a customer who'd evidently had what he needed for the night going by the flush on his face.
Ian watched them as he sipped at his drink and then offered a shy glance at Jack. It wasn't usual for Jack to dance, but then by this stage of the night he was often too drunk to stand properly or else he was the one playing the piano, so it was hardly surprising. Boone wondered if Jack did dance; surely he knew how? Few men of what Ian assumed was a better upbringing than his own wouldn't have learned. He wouldn't ask though, not tonight; it was enough that Jack had agreed to stay. He turned his eyes back to Livvie, trying to forget that his body was so different from hers and imagining himself in her shoes, dancing with Jack in a much different place and time.
The food remained untouched, but Boone continued to sip at his drink.
Jack took long, slow drinks of his whiskey, cradling the tumbler against his chest when he wasn't drinking. He watched the couples dance, and hummed under his breath in counterpoint to Billy's playing as his fingers tapped out the melody on the glass.
When he looked back at Ian, Jack tilted his head to the side. "Ian, you should eat something if you're going to be drinking." Not that he was any better, but Jack was much more used to it. He nudged the plate towards Ian, a concerned look on his face.
"Please?" He lifted his darling's hand off, only slightly surprised to see the ring he gave Ian, and pressed a kiss to the soft skin. He twined their fingers together, giving them a squeeze.
"It's sweet, isn't it? Their dancing?" Jack glanced over once more to the couples on the floor. "They look like proper ladies and gentlemen."
The touch to his hand made Ian smile, his heart warming at the kiss.
"Yes, they do," he replied, pulling his attention away from the dancers and studying Jack's expression. Rather than hope Jack might ask him to dance too, he turned his attention back to the food.
He didn't want to eat, really, but it was hard to refuse when Jack had gone to the trouble of getting some obviously delicious things, and he was being so insistent. Boone picked up a canapé of some type and nibbled at the edge of it.
"You should eat too," he suggested, his eyes drifting back to Livvie again.
"No, I'm okay sweets, I'll eat later. Before we go to bed." Jack turned again to look at where Ian was gazing. The dancers. A glance over revealed a wanting look in his darling's eye, and the doctor's lip quirked as he looked down at the table.
Surely Ian wouldn't want to dance with him, of all people. Jack wasn't light on his feet by any means, and everyone knew it. But it would be nice if he could hold his love close like that, and sway to the music...
"I would think that you're a fantastic dancer."
Ian knew that trying to convince Jack to eat was probably a lost cause - the man hardly ate in his presence, if he even did at all, but Boone still attempted half-heartedly to convince him when he could. Not that he was probably much better himself, but there was a reason for that - Ian had to keep his figure slim for work, or he'd never convince anyone he was a girl.
Jack's next words surprised him, and Ian's eyes flew to Jack's face, his eyes widening.
"Me?" Ian smiled nervously, "No, not really, but I can follow reasonably well."
His heart thudded for a moment, remembering lessons with Donnie when their father wasn't around; the only lessons Ian had ever had that didn't involve sex in some way.
"Well, I'm no dancer by any means... but if you think I'd be a good enough partner, maybe we could...?" Jack reached over to Ian's plate with his free hand, turning it ever so slightly. He just hoped he wasn't wrong, and that Ian really didn't want to.
The last time he had danced had been with Josh, before Matt had started drinking. They'd been so in love, and as the music played, it was like the whole world melted away leaving only the two of them.
Jack knew it would be the same with Ian, especially since the conversation they had the other day. When he had told Ian about his... feelings. It still felt odd, knowing that his lovely was aware of how he felt, even if they weren't going to talk about it.
Jack was really offering to dance with him? Ian could barely believe it, and simply stared at him for a few moments, blinking owlishly.
He finally found his tongue. "You... you'll dance with me? Are you sure?"
It just seemed so unlikely, but if Jack was willing, then he shouldn't really hesitate, should he? A small smile managed to find a home on his face and he nodded, touched more than the simple gesture seemed to warrant.
Jack scooted out of the booth, then held out his hand to Ian. "May I have this dance?" The doctor's voice was quiet, as he was sure that every eye in the room was on them. But this was what Ian wanted, and it deserved to be done right. Jack wasn't going to let anything get in the way of that.
He stayed silent as they walked to where the others were dancing, only offering Ian a small smile when he turned toward Ian. He took one of his darling's hands in his own, and wrapped the other around Ian's waist.
It'd been too many years since he'd danced with a partner. He still had been Matt, the charming young doctor who would lead the young ladies around the dance floor during all the big soirées held by the hospital. Josh would be there too, also keeping the single women company with his superior dancing skills.
No one ever seemed to question why Josh was there, and those who guessed never were anywhere close to the truth.
But how could they ever know? It was so much easier to believe that Matt was trying to introduce him to Boston's well-to-do than to realize the secret glances they shared as they danced with partners they weren't interested in. And surely they had no idea that after they left the party, they would return to their home and Josh would sweep Matt off his feet, singing off-key as they danced through their living room. Or that it would be followed by a night full of long, passionate loving.
Jack rested his head on top of Ian's curls, his chest tight with painful memories and the even more painful knowledge that he'd never be able to make new ones like it with the beautiful creature in his arms.
Ian couldn't believe how wonderful Jack was being. He led him to the dance floor exactly as if he was a woman, and held him so close... The music was a soft sad song he recognised well as one Billy often played towards the end of his night-time sessions like this; one Sawyer sometimes sang softly to, although he never danced when it was on. Ian didn't want to be thinking of Sawyer right now, but it was hard not to during this particular tune; one where Sawyer actually looked so sad and lost that Boone had been tempted on occasion to ask him what it was he was remembering then. He never would now though; it could involve Jack and Ian didn't want to know about things like that. Steadfastly, he shut out the thought, and hoped Sawyer wasn't about to show up. He could imagine how caustic the man would be if he saw Boone and Jack dancing together.
Inhaling Jack's sweet but masculine scent, Ian nuzzled into his beau's neck and kissed the heated skin there. Tonight, he just wanted to be close to Jack; to hold him and pretend that there was nothing more real than this. And with luck, Jack would come to bed with him, and whether they made love or not, he would stay overnight for the first time-other than by accident of his drunkenness-holding Ian as if their love could exist in a place other than Freeman's.
In their corner, Vin topped off Hugh's glass then his own. Both were pleasantly lubricated as they watched the couple dancing. Vin hated to admit it, but from the twitch of a smile from Hugh along with an arched eyebrow, he knew his companion had heard the small 'aww' noises he made. Dr. Jack and sweet Boone did make a cute couple as they swayed to the music.
Movement in the other parlour snared Vin's attention and he wondered mildly about it as a handful of servants and eventually all three proprietors made their way to the kitchen. If it was trouble, Wang-Zu and Eric could deal with it. If it was serious trouble, he and Hugh weren't that far into their cups to be effective.
Word Count: ~ 7276
A few chapters ago, Dom said something big was coming. Make sure to tune in next week to see what it is.
Back to Chapter 56
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)
'I Hope You Dance' Lee Ann Womack
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q6ZFAwByaKA
Vin shushed Ian's protests and just held him tighter when tears welled in the beauty's blue eyes. In one smooth motion he stood and pressed Ian's face into his shoulder, away from prying eyes. He caught the eye of the first staff member he saw.
"Warrick, find the doctor. If he's not here, have him summoned." The milling partygoers parted before his growling countenance as he marched in the direction of the kitchen. "...And our Boone wants Craig. Find him and send him in," Vin called over his shoulder to Warrick's nod of understanding.
As soon as Greg had disappeared, Hugh stood back and looked for Vin, but the wolf was busy with one of his pack. He moved away from the stairs, feeling as though thousands of eyes were on him, and made for the bar instead. Once he had a hand on the wooden surface he felt a little less baffled, although no less alone. He had caught sight of Sawyer but the bunny had apparently turned vampire and was definitely not going to be impressed if he was disturbed.
Sighing, Hugh thanked Billy for the drink and made his way to a shadowy spot and a seat he could view the room from.
It took some doing and minor histrionics, clutching of and dampening of his shirt, and shrill ear-piercing squeals of shock and dismay when Craig made an appearance. But, Ian was ensconced in the breakfast room (once Cook had satisfied herself that Ian wasn't at death's door, she'd shooed them out of her busy kitchen to the cozy room next door), safely in Craig's arms, mugs of chocolate in hand, and Warrick ordered by Cook to stand guard now that the doctor had been summoned.
Desperately in need of a beer or stiffer drink, Vin took the outer hallway straight to the bar. Brushing ineffectually at a large chocolate stain, Vin frowned at the sorry state of his shirt while Billy poured a shot and then drew a beer. As Vin tossed back the rum, a shadowy figure in the corner momentarily caught the wavering light from a wall sconce.
Beer in hand, Vin moved over. "This a party for one, or can a weary survivor join?" he asked Hugh in a low rumble.
Hugh had sunk a little lower on his chair as the time went on, more than happy to take an opportunity for a quick breather. He looked up at the wolf and smiled gently before waving a hand to the nearest seat in invitation.
"Help yourself. You, uh, lost your friend?" Hugh eyed the somewhat messy shirt and grinned a little more. "And you might look a little neater if you took your shirt off, y'know."
"Thanks," Vin lowered himself into the chair with a heart-felt sigh. Once he'd swallowed a healthy slug of beer, he heaved a deeper sigh and rolled his eyes at his companion. "I swear, the boys can be more girly than the girls at times. Once I knew Ian wasn't seriously harmed, I couldn't escape all the feminine frippery and squealing fast enough."
He drank again, sliding a little lower on the seat himself. Lazily he waggled a finger at Hugh, "You just want me stripped off again; think I'm tired enough to be a pushover."
Hugh considered that prospect and grinned.
"True. And are you?"
Nearly choking on his next swallow, Vin clapped Hugh's shoulder and laughed uproariously. "Only in your dreams, mate. And for that, the next round's on you," he purred, eyes twinkling at the double entendre.
"I hope not, I've already bathed twice today. One more and I'll turn into a prune," he snorted, and glanced at Vin's glass. "Same again or something stronger?"
"This'll do." Content to stay put for a while and just shoot the breeze, the beer was just the right type of lubricant to keep Vin on an even keel.
"Thank god for that. I'm not sure I could cope with you swinging off the chandeliers," Hugh commented idly, relaxing in his chair as he surveyed the surroundings. "You're a little large to catch, for a start."
Hugh paused to take a mouthful of his own drink, then glanced at Vin thoughtfully. "So... how often d'you get a chance to play?"
Vin snorted softly and rolled his eyes before drinking again. "Normal nights, depends on how busy, or how many newer members are about and need 'watching'," he responded with a half-smirk and leer, "Advantage to this being a private, members-only house. Incidents like you just saw are rare, but they do happen when a man's too far into his cups, or feels the need to test the laxity of our security. The fear of wondering how closely Wang-zu and his boys are connected to the Tongs keeps most of the rowdier souls in line whenever Eric or I are 'playing'."
He drained his beer and flicked a meaningful look between Hugh and the empty glass. A low chuckle erupted as he thought back to the minor altercation. "That bastard is damned lucky. That tiny knife pinch coulda severed a vital organ if it hadn't been Wang-zu's favorite nephew hurdling the bar and covering the bastard's 'tender' bits.
Hugh winced, mostly as he considered the problems that could happen if Vin worked out what the actual situation was with Bana. If a little knife fight was all in a day's work for the man, sorting out a kidnapping was probably going to be a piece of cake. Jackman found his gaze wandering to Vin's hands; big, powerful and probably able to break a fully grown grizzly bear in half.
"You're really impressive when you get going," he commented.
Waving off the statement with an audible 'pfft', Vin gave credit where it was due. "Between Stokes and the servants, was over before I even arrived."
He sized up his drinking companion in turn. "You have the look of one who'd be mighty impressive yourself. Definitely would prefer to be on the same side in a fight."
"Yeah?" Hugh grinned back at him and stretched lazily, looking at Vin with even more thought. He was right. It would be much easier to be on the same side, even if Vin wasn't aware what that would actually entail.
"Fancy perhaps... experimenting?" Hugh's voice dropped to a velvety purr worthy of royalty.
About to less subtly remind Hugh that the next round was on him, an involuntary shiver skated down Vin's spine. The tone alone had his flesh twitching in interest before the words penetrated.
"Experimenting?" he repeated huskily, "How; with what?" Before too much good sense flowed south, one eyebrow lowered. "Thought you weren't into the kinkier side of things?"
"I can do kinky. I just need to know the people beforehand." Hugh licked his bottom lip lazily, eyeing Vin thoughtfully. "And I was wondering whether you'd like to help me out with Mr. Bana. See whether he'd like to join us."
"Eric?" The front legs of Vin's leant-back chair hit the floor with a thud. "Why would you want to involve that toadying sheep bug... uh..." Lips snapping shut, Vin leaned forward conspiratorially, "What do you have in mind?"
The lusty interest Vin was trying to project was probably ruined by the gleeful light in his eyes at the thought of getting one over on (and hopefully both of them into) his irritating yet sexy roommate.
Hugh raised an eyebrow at the comment, and grinned to himself. Toadying sheep buggerer, eh? Well, that was a good start.
"Well," he dropped his voice a little lower, turning it into a purr. "Perhaps we could get him a little more..." Hugh paused for dramatic effect and to work out the correct word, "...flexible. He seems remarkably straight laced, and straight laces really need to be untied, don't you think?"
"Mmm, yes," Vin rumbled. Finally, he thought. Someone who understood how frustratingly irritating was Eric's unbending attitude to him (and obviously to his new friend Hugh). Often too talkative, eager to please anyone else, just like a massive lap dog. Hell, the man even had curls flopping over his the liquid brown eyes of a pooch. Alone, Vin knew it would take too much effort to convince Eric he was a natural bottom. With Hugh's assistance though... endless and delicious were the possibilities.
"Plotting is thirsty work. Go arrange refills. Hell, have Billy bring over a bottle and fill a pitcher. This may take a while, yes?"
"Yes sir!" Hugh gave a smart salute and went off to the bar to arrange the hardest drinks he could without being too obvious. Orders given, he sauntered back and settled himself into the chair, wearing a grin that the Cheshire Cat would probably be impressed with. Oh, this was getting better and better! No doubt Vin could persuade the man to turn up to secluded areas with ease, and at least it saved him trying to find an explanation on why they really had to meet in a security light spot.
"Thought you and he were quite close," he commented, "Don't you share a room or something?"
Pouring shots for both, Vin explained the shared sitting room flanked by two small and separate bedrooms over the carriage house. Warming to his subject (as the smooth whiskey warmed his innards), Vin regaled his drinking buddy with small tales about sharing just the common room and bath with Eric.
"Lordy, there are days I seriously consider marching downstairs and finding a way to adapt a bridle to muzzle him when he's in an excessively chatty mood."
Hugh gave him a brilliantly innocent smile.
"I'm sure we can do that if you wish," he murmured softly, "Wouldn't take much, you know. Could even adapt a saddle to use if you could get him in the right position..."
Legs stretched out and settling well back into his chair, a shit-eating grin broke over Vin's face. His eyelids fluttered, nearly closing as he envisioned Eric's tight and shapely rear upended for their delectation.
"Saddle, yeah. Like the way your mind works; wickedly, deviously delicious," he rumbled at long last.
"Me? I'm sweet and innocent," Hugh grinned back. "So, how d'you think the best way is to persuade him he should be doing this? A bit of alcohol, a sweet whisper in his ear, that type of thing?"
"Nah, that'd be too subtle for the likes of Eric." Vin poured more whiskey and sipped lazily from his glass. "We'd need a more direct approach. You, drenched in melted chocolate, might do the trick." Vin leered at Hugh, recalling their small adventure with honey and other sticky substances.
Hugh grinned back at him, at ease with the fooling around. God, if they managed to get Eric tied up in a little, out of the way spot, then suddenly the task seemed that much closer to being fulfilled. And hell, it was always better to plot in pairs than on your own. Two dubious minds were better than one, and Vin seemed to possess one of the sneakiest, devious minds out there.
Oh yeah, Hugh mused as they settled back to watch a pair of dancing girls take to the center of the room to swirl around like peacocks. Things were looking up.
Ian was having more trouble with this whole thing than he ought to, but he just wanted Jack! How hard could it be to find him? One of the servants said he'd seen the doctor there earlier, and now Ian knew that, he was losing the plot in a serious way. After the other night when he'd told Jack his story, Ian had somehow felt more fragile than ever before, and the only one who could calm him when he got worked up seemed to be Jack.
All the people fluttering around Ian had made him lose his cool and he practically threw half his hot chocolate at Vin in his fury. Luckily it hadn't been too hot and it wasn't long after that when the big bouncer had admitted defeat and left him to the women and Craig's tender mercies. Even the usually quiet Warrick was catching the sharp end of Boone's tongue tonight. He'd shifted uncomfortably at the insult tossed at him and then discretely disappeared seconds later.
Cook had insisted they go into the breakfast room and Ian found he couldn't stand the thought of Kate and Claire being there to see him at his weakest either. The idea of them whispering about him behind his back later about how much more of a sissy he was than most of the girls was enough to make his blood boil.
"You two can fuck off as well," he hissed at them as he rolled his sleeve back down again and moved into the other room, "Haven't you see a bruise before? Go ask Sawyer to show you his ass after Naveen's flogged him sometime! It looks a damned sight worse than this! Come on, Craig," he growled, grabbing Craig by the hand and practically dragging the other whore after him.
Craig gave the girls a hopeless smile and then apologised softly to Cook, whose countenance was starting to look very dark as her patience at Boone's antics wore thin.
Shutting the door behind them, Craig cooed, "Come here, sweetie. Let me give you a proper cuddle? That ugly ogre had no right to manhandle you like that. Warrick'll find Jack soon, don't worry. Are you hurt anywhere else?"
"My ribs ache," Boone admitted, nodding as he let Craig wrap him in warm and comforting arms.
By rights, Ian and Craig should be a couple, if Ian could feel anything beyond a kind of grateful warmth that his friend never lost his patience with him, no matter how horrible he was being to everyone around him. But somehow, although he'd had sex with him on more than one occasion and he did love him, he couldn't make himself feel anywhere near in love with the kindly New Zealander. That was reserved for-well, he had to admit it to himself now, really-Jack. Not that he'd tell anyone else, but Jack at least knew it and that meant something, he supposed, even if anything beyond the relationship they now managed seemed out of reach.
"Where is Jack?" he mumbled into Craig's soft neck and held on tighter.
The party certainly was a lively one, especially in Jack's eyes. There were more people packed into the parlours then there usually were over several nights combined. It seemed like every client was in attendance, even those who weren't regulars, along with at least one potential customer. Friends of the house were in there as well, from other proprietors to former staff. Music was playing as well, and everyone was in a gay mood. Jack had overindulged in drink even more then usual, and when the festivities began to overwhelm him, he had stumbled off to find an open bed.
He wasn't sure how long he had been sleeping for when one of Wang-zu's uncountable family members began calling his name. For the most part he ignored the noise, until another voice joined in and a warm hand began to shake him awake. He blearily opened his eyes, and his swimming vision focused on the bright green of Warrick's eyes.
The next few moments passed in a blur. All Jack knew for sure was that somehow he had ended up in the kitchen, with a mug of coffee being forced upon him by Cook. No one would really tell him what was going on; just that he was being summoned and that he needed to sober up.
Everyone seemed rather flustered, and no one was answering any of his questions. Cook, especially, didn't seem to want anything to do with him, and her face was tight as she moved about the kitchen. Jack himself found himself growing rather frustrated at the lack of answers, and began to seriously contemplate going back to bed if no one was going to even tell him who wanted to speak with him.
Wishing he'd been able to escape when Vin did, Warrick stuck it out as long as he could. Granted it was only a tongue lashing and not the outright hissy-fit melt-down from earlier. Once Boone's attention was directed elsewhere, he slipped off to see what could be done to hasten the doctor.
Other than a small bruise, Warrick couldn't discern further injury, but if fetching the doctor put an end to the shrill histrionics, he was all for it. By the time he mounted to the second floor where he assumed Dr. Jack was washing up after his nap, a servant tidying one of the rooms nodded Warrick back down, stating in broken English that the doctor wasn't ready to see the patient.
Grumbling the whole way down the back stairs, the sight in the kitchen halted him in his tracks. The creature lolling on the bench with a gaggle of servants milling around him was not the man who had treated Warrick a few short weeks ago. Though quiet, that man had been efficient, and for the most part steady-handed. The close cut hair was the same, but this one was puffy and pasty faced, frame shaking as if palsied. Warrick stared agog at the countenance of a drunkard. He'd only had a glimpse earlier when he found Dr. Jack upstairs, the servant with him having hustled Warrick back out of the bedroom.
He sidled as close as he dared, staying out of reach from a flailing arm batting away a mug of strong coffee. "He's in no condition to even see young Boone, let alone treat the child." Warrick spoke to one of Cook's helpers.
It had taken one word, one simple word, and Jack was on his feet. He nudged staff aside until he had a clear view of Warrick. The doctor stumbled closer, and when he stood in front of the tall mulatto, he held out one hand in hopes of pausing any possible movements. His other hand covered his mouth, as he tried to still his rolling stomach.
"Did you just say what I think you said? No one told me that it was Ian who wanted me, and certainly no one mentioned that he was injured."
Jack glanced around at the others, trying to read their expressions to see if he could get any hint at just how badly his dearest one was hurt. "Where were the bouncers? Why didn't anyone stop what was going on?"
The doctor's stomach churned harder, and a cold sweat broke out on his face. "For Gods sake, I'm his doctor! Why aren't I with him? He needs me! Where is he?"
The sour, boozy breath wafting into his face had Warrick reeling more than the doctor's sudden appearance right before him. "Dieu! Good God man yourself." Warrick reached out to grasp the man wobbling on his feet. "The incident was minor and handled within moments. You are in no condition to go into the breakfast room like that."
"Breakf..." Jack trailed off, looking in the direction of the closed door. Ian was right there, harmed and in need of him. "I have to go to him..." Ian needed him; Warrick wouldn't understand; couldn't understand. Ian wouldn't care what state he was in, but he couldn't let him wait.
He tugged away from Warrick, his entire focus on getting to the one that held his heart.
The door to the breakfast room being tugged open made Ian lift his head from where he was comfortably cuddled up still in Craig's arms. He'd heard some small commotion outside the room, but honestly didn't care if it didn't involve Jack being showed straight in here now!
Eyes opening wide at the familiar visage appearing, Ian jumped out of Craig's arms and flew across the room, smashing into the doctor's chest with a breathless, "Jack!" as his tears started anew.
Craig watched from where he'd been abandoned, not terribly surprised to see how quickly he was forgotten once handsome Dr. Jack was in the room. Boone had been smitten with him for months-no matter how much he protested-and despite the man's deep love affair with liquor, there was no one else the man visited, so perhaps he did care more than a little for Ian. Craig hoped like hell the man had enough feeling for his pretty young friend, anyway, because Boone had clearly had a hard life (although Craig suspected he knew only the smallest part of Ian's story) and he deserved some kind of happiness, even if he did seem to act out far more than was good for him. If Jack ever did anything that Craig thought was likely to hurt Ian, he would have Craig to answer to, anyway.
Narrowing his eyes as the two men embraced in front of him, Craig wondered just how much the doctor had drunk tonight-he was looking even more seedy than usual.
Jack's eyes stung with tears as soon as Ian collided with him, and he hugged the slight figure as close to him as he possibly could. From the moment he'd first heard his beloved's name mentioned until this very moment, a panic unlike Jack had ever known filled him. All he'd been able to think was, if Ian was harmed, why hadn't they rushed him in? Warrick's explanations were worthless. The only time you delay the doctor was if... No, Jack wasn't even going to think along those lines, not now that he had Ian in his arms.
The doctor pressed frantic kisses to wherever he could reach, still desperate to reassure himself that Ian was safe and whole. Words escaped him, as they often did, but he wished he could tell his lovely how much Ian's mere presence eased his heart and all his pains. How thankful he was that all injuries seemed minimal.
Without even a glance at Craig, Jack ushered Ian towards a chair. "Let me look you over; make sure you're alright."
Seeing how superfluous he was, Craig stood up, murmuring, "I'll just leave you to it then..." and realising the other two weren't paying him the least amount of attention, he smiled wryly and moved out the door, closing it quietly behind him. He might not have even been there, for all the notice Jack had taken of him.
Ian nodded as Jack directed him into a chair, his heart bouncing about like crazy. Jack was so... so... caring. More caring than he should be really, especially concerning Ian, but Boone was glad of it anyway. The delicate kisses rained upon him had proven Jack was at least a little bit in love with him, anyway, and after their discussion the other day, Ian's heart was melting just a tiny bit. He was frightened to be too dependent on this man, considering what happened to every other person he'd loved, but... he needed Jack now.
"I don't know if they told you what happened? I have a couple of bruises, but they're not really that bad. I just..." he paused, taking a careful breath and looking up at Jack with tears brimming near the surface. Why was he so weak? He really should be a girl by rights. "Well, you know, with... everything I told you... I don't... when someone... I can't handle it." Shaking his head, Ian dropped his eyes again and began to roll up the sleeve of his robe again so Jack could see the darkening bruise on his upper arm.
"They told me nothing. Made me wait." Jack hated them all the more for keeping him out of the room, especially when this was enough to make his Ian cry. He should have been able to be there for Ian, not ridiculed by Warrick. Who was he to say Jack was unfit, anyway?
At the sight of the bruise, the doctor carefully took Ian's arm in his hands. It was bad, and would most likely be tender for a few days, but thankfully, once the color faded there would be no lasting signs. And there wasn't much that Jack could do for it, except maybe ice it to reduce inflammation.
And kiss the wound away. Jack felt silly doing it; he was a doctor and there was no real healing to be found in such a gesture. But nonetheless, the pressed his lips gently against the mark.
Ian wasn't sure he wanted to tell Jack what had happened now. It seemed so minor, and usually he was quite able to handle the grabby customers in public. This one had been a little more insistent than some, though, and as Jack shifted to kiss his arm, Boone felt a twinge in his side at the other place the man had grabbed. He hadn't even looked at that yet, and a sense of shame at being so unable to deal with this right now stopped him from saying anything to Jack.
Closing his eyes, Ian swallowed hard, trying to control the tears so close to the surface. When he felt able to speak, he opened his eyes slowly, focusing back on Jack kneeling beside him, the doctor's soft lips still caressing his bruised skin. The simple gesture of comfort was the most touching thing Boone had experienced in a while, and the tenderness almost set off his tears again.
Blinking, he fought them and murmured, "Will you stay with me tonight?" A sudden fear that Jack would think him too bold for asking such a thing made a cold shiver run eerily down his spine. "I'm... I can't go out there again; not tonight."
Jack looked up at Ian with wide eyes, his surprise obvious. He masked the emotion as quickly as possible, but it had taken a moment. "You want me to stay with you?" They'd never done that; purposely slept next to one another only to wake up together the following morning. "Of course I will."
Without letting Ian respond to his assent, Jack stroked his fingers through the boy-girl's hair. "Are you sure you don't want to rejoin the party? We could find a quiet place to sit; just you and I. We could have some food, enjoy the music..." He would be willing to do anything, if it meant that Ian could calm down and possibly enjoy the rest of the night.
Jack's horror at Ian's suggestion seemed evident and Ian dropped his eyes, knowing he'd pushed things too far by asking what he had. Even though Jack then went on to say he would stay, Boone wasn't sure he believed him. He was probably only agreeing to get Ian to calm down, and when he suggested they go back to the party, Boone felt this was just confirmation of his unwillingness to sleep with Ian when it wasn't about sex.
"Okay, sure, yeah," he managed, holding his emotions back and keeping his eyes downcast.
No matter what they had said to each other the other day when Ian had given away more of himself to Jack than he'd ever done with anyone before, he was still far too scared about their relationship--such that it was--to believe that Jack wasn't just trying to ease himself away as carefully as he could without upsetting Boone further.
It was foolish of him to believe Jack would even want someone so damaged as him in any way other than as a whore, in any case, no matter what assurances he'd given.
"Let's... let's go back out there now. Just a quiet corner somewhere; have something to eat, like you say. Maybe Billy will be playing something soft and..." Ian stopped, blinking away the rest of his tears and managing to dredge up some kind of cool façade from God knew where; the one he kept for his usual clients but that he so rarely wore for Jack any more. He certainly couldn't let the man know this was the last thing he felt like doing.
And if the barman was playing some old folk song by now, chances were Sawyer would be singing, if he wasn't still busy fucking whichever of tonight's conquests were still hanging around. That would really rub things in good and proper, wouldn't it? Boone gave another cool smile and stood up. Sawyer was actually a very good singer, and Ian could forget it was him-Jack's former lover-if he closed his eyes.
"Let's go," he told Jack, holding out a hand and waiting for Jack to take it.
Something wasn't right about Ian, but every time Jack came near to putting his finger on what the issue was, Ian's face would change and the doctor would be clueless once more. He decided finally to take Ian's word for it, and took the offered hand in his own.
It took Jack a moment to stand, but as soon as he had his feet he helped pull Ian up to meet him. He ran his fingertips along Ian's jaw, before cupping the base of Ian's skull and bringing the much-loved mouth to meet his own. The kiss was a short but firm press of lips against lips, but it was enough that Jack pulled away with a soft smile.
In the parlour, it appeared that most people had moved elsewhere. Which was fine, as far as Jack was concerned. He didn't take note of who was where; the only thing he felt worth noticing was the open booth in a dim corner. He ushered Ian into the seat, before pressing a soft kiss to the boy-girl's forehead. "Stay right here, beauty. I'll go get you something tasty."
Ian looked around while he waited for Jack to return with food, but luckily there weren't too many people about just now. Thankfully, Sawyer wasn't one of them; he would have been the hardest to deal with. After carefully tossing his hair back over his shoulder and offering an aloof stare around the room, just daring anyone to try anything with him, Ian turned his eyes back towards where Jack had disappeared just in time to see the man returning with a plate of tidbits.
He offered him a cool smile as Jack put the plate down, and shifted enough to allow his favourite client room to sit next to him on the leather seat of the booth, rather than take a chair opposite. No matter how confused Boone still was about their relationship, he needed Jack's warmth near to him now. It held some of the only strength he could find and he wasn't sure what he'd have done if Jack hadn't come when he needed him.
"Thank you," he said as Jack slid in beside him and pressed his warm side against Ian's. Boone put a hand on Jack's thigh - not to stir his desire, but because he needed to touch him and it was the closest thing he could hold while still attempting some pretence of normality.
"Wang-zu?" he caught the servant's attention as he walked past, "Could you please bring some whiskey for Dr. Jack? And two glasses."
Wang-zu nodded and disappeared towards the bar as Ian turned back towards Jack, his careful façade of aloofness still in place. "I'm sorry about before, Jack. And about the other night. I... I ask too much of you. You don't have to stay with me tonight; I'll be fine."
Jack couldn't help smiling. Just a small, pleased grin, but it was there to stay. The hand on his leg made happy butterflies dance in his stomach. He knew it probably meant little to nothing, but it was comforting and it made him feel wanted.
And while it wasn't that odd for Jack to want whiskey, the fact that his darling had taken the initiative to order it made him feel as warm as if the liquor was already in his belly. Ian often fetched the doctor drinks, especially in private. But this felt different. The number of glasses made him pause, but he didn't comment on it.
When Ian finally addressed him, the words were so shocking it made Jack let out a surprised noise. "What? No, no. I want to. I'd spend all the time you'd allow pressed up against you."
Ian smoothed the hand he had on Jack's thigh back and forth a little as he smiled at the man. A funny tickling sensation had started inside him and Boone wasn't sure he understood it, but perhaps it meant that things were alright. He had no wish to force his best client into anything he didn't want, and asking him to stay overnight after their emotions had been swirling around so confusedly over the last few days may have been a mistake, but if Jack was willing, then Ian wasn't about to let him slip away now.
"Thank you," he offered simply and softly.
Dreams they may be, but at least they had something substantial and real attached; a warm body holding him close, and one large enough to protect Boone from any evil nightmares.
Wang-zu appeared then with the drinks, and Ian nodded his thanks and began to pour a large whiskey for Jack and a smaller one for himself. He'd not get too drunk, just tipsy enough to take the edge off his worry.
Billy was playing something soft and low on the piano by now, and the couple of girls still in the parlours were dancing; one of them, Claire, with the dealer, Dom, and the other, tall and stunningly beautiful Livvie with a customer who'd evidently had what he needed for the night going by the flush on his face.
Ian watched them as he sipped at his drink and then offered a shy glance at Jack. It wasn't usual for Jack to dance, but then by this stage of the night he was often too drunk to stand properly or else he was the one playing the piano, so it was hardly surprising. Boone wondered if Jack did dance; surely he knew how? Few men of what Ian assumed was a better upbringing than his own wouldn't have learned. He wouldn't ask though, not tonight; it was enough that Jack had agreed to stay. He turned his eyes back to Livvie, trying to forget that his body was so different from hers and imagining himself in her shoes, dancing with Jack in a much different place and time.
The food remained untouched, but Boone continued to sip at his drink.
Jack took long, slow drinks of his whiskey, cradling the tumbler against his chest when he wasn't drinking. He watched the couples dance, and hummed under his breath in counterpoint to Billy's playing as his fingers tapped out the melody on the glass.
When he looked back at Ian, Jack tilted his head to the side. "Ian, you should eat something if you're going to be drinking." Not that he was any better, but Jack was much more used to it. He nudged the plate towards Ian, a concerned look on his face.
"Please?" He lifted his darling's hand off, only slightly surprised to see the ring he gave Ian, and pressed a kiss to the soft skin. He twined their fingers together, giving them a squeeze.
"It's sweet, isn't it? Their dancing?" Jack glanced over once more to the couples on the floor. "They look like proper ladies and gentlemen."
The touch to his hand made Ian smile, his heart warming at the kiss.
"Yes, they do," he replied, pulling his attention away from the dancers and studying Jack's expression. Rather than hope Jack might ask him to dance too, he turned his attention back to the food.
He didn't want to eat, really, but it was hard to refuse when Jack had gone to the trouble of getting some obviously delicious things, and he was being so insistent. Boone picked up a canapé of some type and nibbled at the edge of it.
"You should eat too," he suggested, his eyes drifting back to Livvie again.
"No, I'm okay sweets, I'll eat later. Before we go to bed." Jack turned again to look at where Ian was gazing. The dancers. A glance over revealed a wanting look in his darling's eye, and the doctor's lip quirked as he looked down at the table.
Surely Ian wouldn't want to dance with him, of all people. Jack wasn't light on his feet by any means, and everyone knew it. But it would be nice if he could hold his love close like that, and sway to the music...
"I would think that you're a fantastic dancer."
Ian knew that trying to convince Jack to eat was probably a lost cause - the man hardly ate in his presence, if he even did at all, but Boone still attempted half-heartedly to convince him when he could. Not that he was probably much better himself, but there was a reason for that - Ian had to keep his figure slim for work, or he'd never convince anyone he was a girl.
Jack's next words surprised him, and Ian's eyes flew to Jack's face, his eyes widening.
"Me?" Ian smiled nervously, "No, not really, but I can follow reasonably well."
His heart thudded for a moment, remembering lessons with Donnie when their father wasn't around; the only lessons Ian had ever had that didn't involve sex in some way.
"Well, I'm no dancer by any means... but if you think I'd be a good enough partner, maybe we could...?" Jack reached over to Ian's plate with his free hand, turning it ever so slightly. He just hoped he wasn't wrong, and that Ian really didn't want to.
The last time he had danced had been with Josh, before Matt had started drinking. They'd been so in love, and as the music played, it was like the whole world melted away leaving only the two of them.
Jack knew it would be the same with Ian, especially since the conversation they had the other day. When he had told Ian about his... feelings. It still felt odd, knowing that his lovely was aware of how he felt, even if they weren't going to talk about it.
Jack was really offering to dance with him? Ian could barely believe it, and simply stared at him for a few moments, blinking owlishly.
He finally found his tongue. "You... you'll dance with me? Are you sure?"
It just seemed so unlikely, but if Jack was willing, then he shouldn't really hesitate, should he? A small smile managed to find a home on his face and he nodded, touched more than the simple gesture seemed to warrant.
Jack scooted out of the booth, then held out his hand to Ian. "May I have this dance?" The doctor's voice was quiet, as he was sure that every eye in the room was on them. But this was what Ian wanted, and it deserved to be done right. Jack wasn't going to let anything get in the way of that.
He stayed silent as they walked to where the others were dancing, only offering Ian a small smile when he turned toward Ian. He took one of his darling's hands in his own, and wrapped the other around Ian's waist.
It'd been too many years since he'd danced with a partner. He still had been Matt, the charming young doctor who would lead the young ladies around the dance floor during all the big soirées held by the hospital. Josh would be there too, also keeping the single women company with his superior dancing skills.
No one ever seemed to question why Josh was there, and those who guessed never were anywhere close to the truth.
But how could they ever know? It was so much easier to believe that Matt was trying to introduce him to Boston's well-to-do than to realize the secret glances they shared as they danced with partners they weren't interested in. And surely they had no idea that after they left the party, they would return to their home and Josh would sweep Matt off his feet, singing off-key as they danced through their living room. Or that it would be followed by a night full of long, passionate loving.
Jack rested his head on top of Ian's curls, his chest tight with painful memories and the even more painful knowledge that he'd never be able to make new ones like it with the beautiful creature in his arms.
Ian couldn't believe how wonderful Jack was being. He led him to the dance floor exactly as if he was a woman, and held him so close... The music was a soft sad song he recognised well as one Billy often played towards the end of his night-time sessions like this; one Sawyer sometimes sang softly to, although he never danced when it was on. Ian didn't want to be thinking of Sawyer right now, but it was hard not to during this particular tune; one where Sawyer actually looked so sad and lost that Boone had been tempted on occasion to ask him what it was he was remembering then. He never would now though; it could involve Jack and Ian didn't want to know about things like that. Steadfastly, he shut out the thought, and hoped Sawyer wasn't about to show up. He could imagine how caustic the man would be if he saw Boone and Jack dancing together.
Inhaling Jack's sweet but masculine scent, Ian nuzzled into his beau's neck and kissed the heated skin there. Tonight, he just wanted to be close to Jack; to hold him and pretend that there was nothing more real than this. And with luck, Jack would come to bed with him, and whether they made love or not, he would stay overnight for the first time-other than by accident of his drunkenness-holding Ian as if their love could exist in a place other than Freeman's.
In their corner, Vin topped off Hugh's glass then his own. Both were pleasantly lubricated as they watched the couple dancing. Vin hated to admit it, but from the twitch of a smile from Hugh along with an arched eyebrow, he knew his companion had heard the small 'aww' noises he made. Dr. Jack and sweet Boone did make a cute couple as they swayed to the music.
Movement in the other parlour snared Vin's attention and he wondered mildly about it as a handful of servants and eventually all three proprietors made their way to the kitchen. If it was trouble, Wang-Zu and Eric could deal with it. If it was serious trouble, he and Hugh weren't that far into their cups to be effective.
Word Count: ~ 7276
A few chapters ago, Dom said something big was coming. Make sure to tune in next week to see what it is.