Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All the resemblances are completely coincidental. All the characters, situations, and everything else in the story is owned by myself beloved. Contains descriptive sexual scenes between males. If you are not supposed to read it, do not read it! Feel free to e-mail me.
This is a sequel to Specter' Gamble </nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/specters-gamble/>. You don't have to read the first one in order to get this one, but it would make it easier to understand the characters in this story.
- XVIII -
He wasn't a single bit surprised when he came home and found Sam scrubbing the floors with furious desperation. He looked very determined. Desmond glanced around. "Good God!" he thought. The house literally sparkled.
"Did you do anything besides cleaning today?" he asked and took a step forward, thinking of making some tea.
Sam straightened up with speed of lightning, the rug jerking violently in his hand when he shot his arm towards Desmond.
"Don't!" he barked, and Desmond froze. For a second, he had a nightmarish thought that Sam sat explosives around the house. "Don't even think about getting in here in your boots!" Sam said in a more normal tone of voice, and Desmond blinked.
Boots? He looked down and realized that he indeed had his boots on. He carefully took them off and looked at the kid.
"I am not leaving them behind the door," he said. "I like these boots; I don't want some dipshit to steal them."
"You don't have to leave them behind the door," Sam returned to his scrubbing. "Put them right there," he glanced up and nodded towards the wall. "Just don't wear them in the house..."
"Okay," Desmond said in what he hoped sounded like soothing voice. He put the boots down. "Do I have to take my socks off as well?" he asked, and Sam snorted.
"Not unless you have mud on them," he looked up again. "You don't, do you?"
Desmond rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen.
"I am not that hopeless," he muttered. "And not that filthy," he added a minute later, trying to find the tea bags. "Where the hell is my tea?" he asked finally after failing to find a single bag.
"Oh," Sam dropped the rug into the bucket and got up. "Here," he opened a completely different cupboard, and Desmond blinked at that. "This one is much better for teas and coffee and such... See, it has..."
"Kid," Desmond said somewhat calmly. "I liked my tea where it was. All I had to do was to reach out, grab the bag, and drop it into the mug."
"You can do it now as well," Sam nodded energetically. "Because I also moved the mugs."
Desmond stared at him, completely mute. Finally, he shook his head.
"Okay," he said. "Okay... Is there anything else you did? I don't know... Something like, switching the bedrooms, or moving all my crap elsewhere?"
"I didn't even go into your room," Sam snorted. "You can clean that one yourself. And no, I didn't move much more... Well," he scratched the back of his head. "I moved all the paper towels, and I switched pots and pans with the other dishes... This way it's easier, you see..."
"Kid," Desmond interrupted him. "I don't care. Explain it to Rayhe when he gets home, he is the one who cooks in this house. As long as you promise not to move my tea again, I am good... Oh, by the way, where are the coffee filters?"
"Here," Sam opened one of the drawers. "I figured that if they are closer to the..."
"Seriously, kid," Desmond shook his head and filled the kettle with water. "I don't care," he finished after he switched the stove on. "Rayhe will have fun though," he snorted to himself mostly.
Sam shrugged almost indifferently, said, "Meh," and went back to his bucket.
"Where is the mutt?" Desmond frowned slightly after he realized that the dog wasn't trying to slobber all over his feet.
"Oh," Sam sighed. "I locked him in my bedroom. He kept thinking that I was playing with him... And after I spilled a bucket of water..." he sighed again, and Desmond nodded.
"Gotcha," he said seriously and looked at the kettle.
"I umm..." Sam coughed without looking up. "I am not going anywhere tonight... In case if you wonder..." he finished in a softer voice.
"Okay," Desmond said with a small shrug. "I would say let's play cards but it's not going to happen."
"Why?" Sam looked up with a frown. Desmond looked at the clock.
"Because Rayhe will be home..." There was a sound of engine outside and he nodded. "Now," he said. "And since you moved everything around in his kitchen, methinks he would like to know where everything went... And since we have quite a few utensils, it will take a while," he finished with another nod.
"Ah," Sam said and returned to his scrubbing.
Desmond threw another glance at the kettle and went to the front door. Gabriel walked in and blinked when he saw how clean the house was.
"If you value your life and well-being," Desmond said in a low voice. "Take your shoes off right now."
Gabriel blinked again and slowly took off his shoes.
"Have fun in the kitchen," Desmond said in the same low voice.
"What happened in the..." Gabriel started saying with a small frown when the kettle whistled shrilly.
"Do me a favor," Desmond said quickly. "Let me make my tea first, okay? I don't want to spill hot water all over myself."
He quickly went into the kitchen, leaving very puzzled Gabriel behind and poured water into his mug.
"Okay," he said a minute later. "Go ahead now, have fun. I'll just watch TV."
He sat on the couch and turned on the TV. He turned down the volume almost right away, however, his expression intent and curious. Gabriel went into the kitchen, his frown is somewhat worried by now. Desmond dropped his head onto the back of the couch, listening intently. There was a sound of a drawer opening, then there was a slam of the cupboard's door, then there was some other sound Desmond could not identify, and then there was Rayhe's incredulous:
"What the hell...? Sam!!"
Desmond grinned and glanced at the TV. There was nothing interesting happening there; it seemed like whatever was about to happen in the kitchen, would be much more entertaining. He was right.
"Sam, what the hell...? Where is..."
"It's right here. See, this way you can..."
"No! That doesn't go there! Sam, this has to be right here!"
"That's because you are used to it, Gabriel. Believe me, this way is a lot easier and..."
"It's not easier! And it's not because I am used to it... It's because it makes sense!"
"Look, just give it a chance, okay? If you just..."
"Where are my spices?"
"Here."
"Are you kidding me?! That's where coffee goes!"
"No, coffee is right here. This way..."
"Sam, undo it!"
Desmond laughed at that silently. He knew that if he makes any noise right now, he'd get hit by the aftermath.
"I can't undo it!"
"Oh, hell yes, you can! Just put everything back where it used to be!"
"Are you serious? Gabriel, first of all, this arrangement makes more sense... And second of all... Do you have any idea how long it will take me?"
"I don't care! This is my kitchen, my cooking, ergo my order!"
"Gabriel..."
"Goddammit... Fine, I will help you... But everything is going back to the way it was, Sam! I'm gonna eat something and you better finish whatever the hell you were doing, because you are going to put everything back!"
"Gabriel..."
"Ah!"
"Ugh, fine, fine... Let me empty the bucket..."
Sam stormed out of the kitchen, grumbling something under his breath, grabbed the bucket and went into the bathroom. Rayhe was muttering something that Desmond failed to hear. There was a sound of the fridge door opening, and then there was another:
"Sam!!"
"What?" Sam came out of the bathroom with an empty bucket.
"What the hell did you do to the fridge?"
Desmond frowned at that. He didn't look in the fridge. "Goddammit," he thought with a frown, remembering the leftovers from the dinner Rayhe made a couple of nights ago. Desmond had no idea what was in there, but it tasted unbelievably good. "If he threw that out..."
"Where is all the food?!" Rayhe sounded like he was about to explode.
"It's in there," Sam's voice sounded puzzled.
"Where is the fettuccini?"
Desmond blinked. Is that what that thing is called?
"That was old, Gabriel... I gave it to Specter..."
"You what?!" Now it was both – Gabriel and Desmond – who screamed that out.
"It was old," Sam rolled his eyes. "Guys, it was two days old!" He seemed completely unshaken, as if he had to deal with some toddlers who were throwing a fit.
"Two days is not old, Sam!" That was Desmond.
"Two weeks is old!" That was Gabriel.
"It wasn't fresh anymore..." Sam said patiently, and that made Desmond want to swear up a storm. He restrained himself, however. He knew that thanks to him and Rayhe, Sam's obscene vocabulary was quite rich by now, but he didn't want to make it even richer. "Specter liked it," Sam shrugged, and Desmond felt like strangling that damn mutt.
"I liked it too, Sam," he said in a very even voice. "Goddammit, kid... You fed our dinner to the dog..."
"I can make something," Sam shrugged again.
"Uh huh," Rayhe said gloomily. "Sorry, Sam, I don't feel like having scrambled eggs right now, and that is the only thing you can make somewhat okay..."
"So not true! I can also make..."
"Come on," Gabriel sighed. "Put your shoes on. We are going out to eat something... And when we come back, you are fixing my kitchen."
"Gabriel, just give it a day or so... You'll like it...!"
"No, I won't. Go put your shoes on."
"Ugh, fine... Where are we going?"
"Don't know, don't care."
"There is a deli called Pure Luck... It's kinda far away but it's really good."
"Fine by me."
"Umm, Desmond should drive."
"Why?"
"Umm, because if you do, we won't get there until nine in the evening..."
"And if he drives...?"
"We'll be there in half an hour," Sam nodded.
"Rayhe, you are riding in the back."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to have another heart attack when you decide to shove your finger in front of my face for no reason, that's why."
"Drive like a normal person and not like a maniac, and I won't have to do that..."
"Rayhe, you are riding in the back!"
"Goddammit... Fine, let's go, I am hungry."
"Huh, kid, this place is awesome!" Desmond said an hour later when they were almost done with the appetizers. "How in the world did you find it?"
Sam looked at him through his eyelashes. They got here in twenty minutes, Sam was impressed. It usually took Blair at least half an hour. Granted, the traffic right now wasn't as bad, but still... Thinking of Blair immediately darkened his mood. He said that he had to leave around eight in the morning today, and he wouldn't be back until next Wednesday night, maybe early Thursday morning. The entire day today, Sam felt like kicking all shit out of something. He decided to clean instead. The very thought that he still had nine Blair-less days ahead of him, made him grit his teeth.
"I umm... I found it," he said and Desmond made a small `huh' sound.
"Why did you drive all the way up here?" He sounded genuinely curious.
"I don't remember," Sam shrugged, concentrating on his last several shrimps.
He hated himself for lying to both of them, but every time he thought about coming clean, he would just choke on his own words. "Umm, Desmond, I am seeing the Fire Guardian..." Yeah, that would be a great conversation... Desmond would say something nasty about the Guardians at least once every day; for some reason, the man couldn't stand the very thought of them. Sam had no idea why and he didn't dare to ask Desmond any questions, knowing that the man would probably start spitting acid the minute Sam brings up the subject.
He knew that he would have to tell him sooner or later, but he decided to wait until he could come up with a decent excuse for why he waited so long, and also enough courage. He considered confiding in Gabriel but discarded that thought almost immediately – Desmond would know if Rayhe were hiding something from him, the man's intuition bordered on the line of mythological. Sam was amazed that Desmond didn't smell anything suspicious about Sam's behavior lately. He was positive that he was a hell of a lot easier to read than Gabriel. However, Desmond didn't seem a bit suspicious, and Sam accepted the fact as a gift.
"Well," Desmond said lightly. "Whatever the reason was, I am glad you found this place."
He was about to say something else, but he was interrupted by a loud and surprised:
"Sam?"
Sam blinked and turned his head. Then he felt cold.
"Eve!" He tried to smile, and it worked somewhat. "Hey!"
He got up so quickly that he bumped his knee on the table and knocked over the peppershaker.
"How are you?" Eve's smile grew bigger.
Sam knew that she was about to say something along the lines of, `Haven't seen you in a while!' so he quickly said:
"Good! Hey, Eve, this is Gabriel..." He nodded at Rayhe. "...and this is Desmond..." He poked Desmond's shoulder and the man blinked.
"Desmond..." Eve repeated thoughtfully. "The apple-Desmond?"
"Umm, yeah..." Sam laughed uncomfortably.
"Please don't tell me that the smell is still there," Eve said seriously, looking at Desmond.
"Somewhat," he sighed. "Almost gone though... Well, it's nice to meet you finally, Eve... Would you like to join us? We are about to order our food."
"Please say no," Sam thought feverishly. "Oh, God, please say no... Please say..."
"I'd love to," Eve said, and Sam closed his eyes. "But I can't," she finished with a small sigh.
"Thank-you-thank-you-thank-you..." Sam thought with enormous relief.
"I have a bear of an essay to finish until noon tomorrow... And I barely started on it..." She sighed again. "It's a pity though," she nodded. "Because I haven't seen..."
"Let me walk you to your car," Sam said brightly before she could finish the sentence, and she blinked.
"Okay," she nodded and looked at Desmond and Gabriel. "It was nice meeting you!" she smiled and stretched out her hand.
Gabriel was sitting too far to reach for it, so he just smiled and said, "Nice meeting you too, Eve!"
Desmond shook her palm and gave her a small smile.
"Have fun with your essay," he said, and she snorted.
"Absolutely!"
Gabriel watched her and Sam walk towards the exit doors, and he was frowning thoughtfully.
"I thought she dumped him," he said, and Desmond glanced at him briefly above the menu.
"Nope," he said.
"That's what you thought as well," Rayhe rolled his eyes.
"I did," Desmond agreed. "I see now that I was wrong... They never dated... The last time he saw her was probably when he sprayed that damn air freshener in my car... Hmm, stuffed mushrooms sound good, don't you think?"
"What are you talking about?" Gabriel frowned deeper. "He was hanging out with her for the last two weeks..."
"He was hanging out," Desmond nodded. "But not with her."
"Who was he hanging out with then? And how in the world do you know that?"
"Have no idea and it is very simple. She acted like she hasn't seen him in a while, and he looked like she was Devil incarnate. Now I understand why he acted the way he did..." He hemmed. "Explains guilt and fright," he nodded with satisfaction. "Can't figure out why he would hide it..." He frowned slightly, and then shrugged. "Oh, well... Don't say anything, Rayhe. Let him think we never noticed anything... Well, no. Let him think I didn't notice anything, because you are, apparently, blind as a bat."
Gabriel muttered something Desmond ignored, and by the time Sam came back, Desmond was enjoying his stuffed mushrooms.