Oak '03: The Sadist's Grin

Chris gripped the arm of his chair. As if holding tighter could propel them faster. So fingers and knuckles could tauten white, enjoying passive violence instead of meting out what he'd prefer.

Bashing Buck upside the head.

Then downside as well.

He glowered, body curled to the side as he fell to internal brooding.

Today was the day. His silently promised day, the time where he'd put an end to the miserable dance he'd led them all into. But it was a deadline as well, the benchmark grasped in his mind thanks to extenuating circumstances beyond his total control.

And now he was late.

Chris shut his eyes, choking back a growl.

He cursed, not even thinking on the ifs of being too late. He wasn't ready to endure the consequences of that just yet. Without wanting them to his thoughts of when this began filtered in, obscuring all else.

******

"Ah! Captain. So good to see you again."

Chris smiled. It was bullshit and they both knew it. But he still smiled.

He had finished his business dealings here and had strolled over to the bar for a drink, nodding at Led as he approached. The spindly alien was already pouring him a healthy measure of gratiean ale, a swill of a drink that burned the insides raw and made the feet feel like lead. Chris had days where he couldn't get enough of the stuff. A short, orange frosted glass appeared on the bar and he lifted it, tipping his head in thanks. His first of the day was always on the house, the owner of the ill-named 'Saloon' knowing a good thing in keeping Larabee coming back time and again.

Chris was a businessman. Full time ship captain, full time smuggler, part time pirate - all depending on the needs of any given situation. He had a bare claim to legitimacy, one that allowed him to continue his operations without too much interference. That and the upkeep of bribes and favors he dealt in as part of the cost of doing business. And right now business was good.

The Sadist's Grin

His last meeting had just concluded. Chris thanked the stars for that. He was a damn good smuggler; his diplomacy and business tact was for shit and he could care less. It was a good thing he and his crew were so damn good; even better Buck took lead in most of the more bullshitting meetings - his approach to handling clients would have run them bankrupt within months otherwise.

He was thinking on ordering another when Led came close again and pointed towards the center of the room, leering grin crossing the leathery face, the purple-taloned finger moving back in to streak along his pointy chin.

"New merchandise today. Just arrived…"

Chris followed the bony appendage's direction. The bar was bustling, filled with the din and detritus of several hundred people. 4C was the largest of its kind this far out. It showed - in its populace, its diversity and its general air of seediness.

Chris narrowed his gaze, honing in on the goods.

"Full human?" he asked, voice gruff, disinterested.

"Purebred. And they're clean." Led's yellow teeth were exposed when he tried to smile, orange eyes gleaming, the vertical blue slits of his pupils dilating to mere lines.

Chris scoffed. "Pure human and clean?" His face twisted disdainfully at the Mesteric, a species known for making good of anything and having little truth to back it. "Prove it." He tore himself away from the two figures, feigning nonchalance and impatience as he bored his glare back into Led.

The potbellied alien poked a finger into the brightly lit panel on the console in front of him. A holographic readout appeared between them, Led apologizing profusely but without sincerity that it was in the wrong direction for Chris to be able to read. Another few taps and the glowing document spun. He scanned it quickly.

Criminals. Both of them. They each carried a life sentence and were to serve their time as property, specifically forced labor. Duties to be performed as present owners see fit with the rider that profit was allowed - criminals to be worked until they have no more use, either through physical termination or debilitating injury. Euthanasia would be the result if they caught an incurable bug or were crippled in some way.

Chris read the fine print, searching. Sometimes criminals were allowed to work a set number of years, the amount based on the severity of the crime. If the convicted survived the labor - for no one was concerned about conditions and equitable treatment - they would be allowed their freedom, debt paid. This was not the case for these two. He stifled a sigh.

It was apparent what Led was putting them to work doing. Their first year condeed holder had done the same. Chris certainly understood why. He wanted to see them again so allowed himself another look, barely flickering a glance out of the corner of his eye.

Chris raised a bored brow. He ignored the acceleration of his heart, pulled back the twinge of interest that speared through his groin. He kept reading.

One was a murderer, the other in for sedition. They came from the same sector, a small one that was light years from here... one just on the cusp of being consumed by Federated Space. Chris wondered if their crimes were linked, but it was a passing muse he easily allowed to fade from his consciousness.

He paid special attention to their condeeds. Without wanting to he branded today's date into his brain. They had expirations on their deeds, present owners only being able to secure owning rights for a single year's time. After that passed they'd be automatically reupped, refreshed with FedSpace, the bidding on who owns them next open for anyone to try and win. Just another way for Feds to make money and not have to expend any of its own keeping the criminal justice system well oiled and running smooth.

Chris vainly hoped they'd bring no profit to Led, that the Mesteric would have no interest in trying to win them again. And that no one else would either.

Chris nodded his head backwards, loosely indicating the men in question. "What of them?"

Led sneered, grating voice working at burbling hustling. "They are beautiful and fresh! What more they're clean, healthy as drayc horses! I should think it obvious 'what of them!' " The thin drapes of skin that fell from under his ears swayed as he gestured grandly.

Chris pursed his lips. "How fresh?"

When Led hesitated the barest moment Chris planted both hands on the counter, shaking his head and made to push away.

"Wait! Wait." The raspy, slithery voice implored him.

He settled back onto the stool, crossing his arms. Chris glared. "I'm listening."

Led leaned in close, as if to impart a secret of particular succulence. "They've been held for a year's time now. Only one year! Their last owner could not pay the reup charge to own their sentence for another year. When I learned of their availability I knew it was an investment I couldn't allow to get by. This is their first day as mine. They haven't entertained a soul since their arrival!" Yellow points glinted in the half-light of the bar, jutting past Led's lower lip when he grinned.

Chris remained unresponsive. A year. They'd been on the whore circuit only a year… a whole fucking year. He hissed out, "Where were they before?" tone making it clear he was quickly losing interest or patience. Or both.

"It was very quiet there! Very few customers! How do you think it was their last sponsor lost money on such pretties!" Blue pupils spread into diamonds then pulled narrow again.

He shook his head. "No. I asked where."

Led's face shadowed into a frown, orange eyes dimming to spit a burst of red. The anger was quickly concealed, mottled face clearing from the greenish cast to become gray once again. "Only Luna Mesa." The 'only' came out a whine, the 'Luna Mesa' hastily knocked aside with a breath as if to conceal it.

Chris barked in a near laugh. "Fuck you, Led." He shook his head in disgust and stood abruptly.

3B was larger than 4C. Its olden name was Luna Mesa, but thanks to the steady progress of the insidious fingers belonging to Federated Space and their designators, 3B it had become. Just as this bog of a station had once been called Aurora's Nebula. It was named for the sparkling cloud of blues and greens that spanned the area - a fancy that was nothing more than space junk and noxious gas.

"But Captain! Don't you at least want to hear all about what they can do? Natural green eyes! How often do you see such rare green eyes anymore!?"

Led's voice followed him, a dying thread that hovered as he weaved through the crowd towards the exit. In spite of himself he turned to look at them again, taunted by Led's final words. How long had it been since he'd seen real greens? More to the point, he did want to know what they could do, wanted badly to know… and that was just the problem.

Chris slowed his progress, bodily moving to face the two men. Without being aware he came to a stop, an immovable barrier amidst the throng that had descended into this hub of 'humanity.'

They sat close together, a familiarity about the two that told him they knew each other well - whether from before or from their time servicing, he couldn't tell. But it was likely at the least they watched out for one another. They looked bored, but Chris could tell they were alert. Keenly so. One had long hair and a long muscled body. The other's hair was dark and short, thick and luxuriant looking. Just like the body that unfolded beneath it. The two had been perched on a small platform, raised and at the ready. Nondescript clothing didn't hide anything, didn't flaunt anything either. Floating near them were garish, flashing strobe advertisements pulsing their availability and price.

Pretties indeed.

Chris was almost near to shrugging them off. It was true pure humans were a rarity in the flesh trade, especially this far out, but he could do without. It wasn't like he hadn't been doing without all this time before. Still, he couldn't prevent his interest or his arousal. It pissed him off to feel it; it raced through his veins akin to something like life.

He observed them with an unrelenting glare. Theirs was just one of many platforms that made a loose circle near the center of the huge barroom. Others held more exotic species, sexes of all kinds, furs and scales and skins of all variety. Some bred specifically for pleasure; some built to last and others that would snap in his grasp if he applied enough force. But Chris' eyes were for the two humans alone. His learned smuggler's eyes had told him the document Led showed him wasn't a forgery. The bastard hadn't lied about that at least. These two actually were clean. And a year's use wasn't that long, all things considered. Especially not for humans... humans within his reach.

They were hard to come by, even harder to keep alive, what with all the virulent alien diseases that corroded; alien body parts that were forced into human crevices, both working to make their lives short and usually unpleasant. He wondered how much interest they'd gotten already; wanted desperately to be their first, even if it was just their first here.

Worse still to his crumbling resolve was just how damn fuckable both were.

Chris tightened his jaw and wrenched away, starting again his unconcerned weave as he knocked this person and that out of his way.

Mere steps from the main door he threw a last glance over his shoulder. He didn't know why he bothered, but he couldn't prevent it from happening. As soon as he had he wished he hadn't; was perversely glad that he did.

A hulking Zambath - a notoriously vulgar and bloodlusting warrior species of alien - was examining the two. They were bent this way and that, three thick fingers checking inside mouths and ears for marks of disease, the other hand slipping into pants to knead groins thoroughly, making sure all proper equipment was intact. The Zambath stood them up then forcibly shoved them back down again, testing. Chris assumed it was for reaction and strength. Whatever it was, he could care less.

Rage flew through him like insanity, possessive jealousy nearly causing him to rampage to the platform and demand those probing hands - and now a probing tail - stop lest they be blown off. He grunted then swung to stride back to the bar, back to Led.

The few ground-eating paces it took to get back he kept his focus on the two, eyeing the inspecting Zambath warily. He wouldn't be beaten in their purchase.

Chris clamped a steely hold on the counter, gaze never leaving the 'pretties' for sale. "I'll take them," he hissed.

Getting no answer necessitated he turn. Mottled skin lifted over an orange eye, an approximation of an arched brow.

Chris clenched his jaw and leaned close. He didn't like having to repeat himself. "I'll take them. Both."

He shoved a thin rectangle of bluish titanium at Led and waited. It was snatched from his waiting hold, then inserted into the register, the readout quickly examined before the transaction was accepted then closed. Chris stifled a sardonic grin. He had more than enough; a condition he'd never have shared with Led, but circumstances were beyond that now.

"For how long then Sir?"

He snorted. So now it was 'sir,' eh? Chris leaned across the rounded countertop and jerked his credit from the scanner, pocketing it before Led could get any ideas. His lip curled. "Until I'm done with them."

Led twittered a few times but he didn't bother with listening. All he wanted now was to be in a room, his two paid companions under his fingers, under him.

Chris snarled in the direction of the bar, "Deliver them. Now." Then he charged up the stairs behind the bar that led to the balcony that overlooked the Saloon in a huge ring to claim the largest of the empty rooms.

*******

Vin smiled at Ezra. It was a trace curling of his lips, the gesture more in his eyes than anything else. He was working so hard not to fall apart - working so hard not to have hope he shouldn't allow.

They were waiting together. Waiting for whatever was to come next. Just another couple of whores in a nondescript holding cell, buried within the bowels of this heap of a space port.

Their time with Led had run out. The Mesteric had told them he'd intended to reup their deed, wanted them for at least another year. The whole day the gangly alien had been hovering and looking satisfied with himself, then the day had ended and so had everything else.

Abrupt change didn't particularly bother Vin or Ezra any longer. It was a forced conditionality they'd gotten used to long ago. They wouldn't have minded staying under Led - at least with him they knew the score. They weren't purposefully mistreated and they were relatively well kept.

And they were together. A bit of luck that could never be guaranteed and kept both of them filled with the certain dread that it, by all rights and likelihood, had to end.

Vin watched green eyes, tried to say so many things with just his own; knowing and sharing Ezra's fears and hopes that neither were willing to give voice to. Thinking about it within a secret inner self was bad enough.

Vin couldn't help himself. He thought his thoughts anyway.

They shared a precarious perch, barely held by painful tenterhooks, near breathless as they waited to find out who their next owner would be.

So many possibilities.

Would it be worse than they had now. Would they go together. Would Ezra be sold to one, he to another, the two riven without any recourse.

Vin didn't even let his mind finish the most fervent of his desperate wishes. He knew who he wanted to come - knew Ezra wished it as well.

Green eyes continued to hold his, mirroring his attempts at reassurance, deep with sorrow and brimming with resignation.

He reached out and dusted a bare caress down Ezra's arm, just enough to tickle the hairs, careful against being seen. His thoughts took him again to the first time they'd serviced the one person who represented the nearest thing to salvation...

*******

Vin shifted. He held his breath when Ezra followed the movement, not wanting to have disrupted the other man's sleep. After a tense moment Ezra settled again and he relaxed back into the bed.

His hands trailed lazily along the cooled flesh of his lover. Vin let out a snap of air. It was a term Ezra scoffed at - one others would find cruelly amusing as well. But that's what he and Ezra were, lovers and in love, despite their situation.

It was hard, so damn hard, watching Ezra being sold off, being watched as he answered the beckoning call of the buyer of the moment.

He pushed it away. Vin was weary… deep within he was weary. He felt the same in Ezra, knew they were both close to breaking. One day Ezra would go for a trick and not come back - whether in the actual physical sense or mentally he didn't know, but it was going to happen. The reality of this truth haunted him, a taunting, persistent companion.

It was what he feared most from the mindless, endless fuckfest his life had become. Vin didn't care anymore about being sold. Wasn't worried about all the various bugs and silent killers that could enter his system; didn't even blink at the demands made of his body to accept and respond to parts never meant for humans. He didn't care who he spread for, what it was that came in him or told him to come within. For the most part he was detached. Gone. Save for the small part he kept fiercely protected for Ezra.

If Ezra died, so would he. Simple as that.

Today was as different as he could remember since this nightmare had begun. Their john had been mostly human. Mostly in the sense that all of him looked human save for the glittering, near glowing amber eyes that had silently demanded so much of them with such fiery insistence. They were engaging, implacable, like nothing he'd ever seen. A small part of Vin admitted they held an undeniable appeal.

He'd also been relatively considerate. As it was Vin and Ezra were spending the rest of the night in a paid room, their time paid out as well so they could be left blissfully alone if even just for a few hours.

Vin didn't want to think on the blond who had caught his and Ezra's eye. Wasn't sure how to feel about Ezra knowing they'd be 'visited' by the commanding man in black as soon as he'd walked into the bar.

All he wanted was to sleep; to lay unmolested in Ezra's steady embrace.

If he woke up tomorrow still filled with thoughts of their trick then so be it. He'd find a way out from under the visions then. But for now he was having none of it.

Vin cupped his hand around Ezra's head, fingers twining in the dark hair. He snuggled closer and willed himself to sleep.

*******

"You sure this is what you want?"

Chris' head snapped up at the quiet voice that intruded, his reminisces shattered and splintering away. He narrowed his gaze at Nathan. "What do you mean?"

Dark eyes held his evenly. "Them."

He decided to be stubbornly oblivious as to what his medic was referring to. Chris shook his head. "Who?" His voice was sharp, laced with hints of warning to tread lightly.

Nathan shook his head and rolled his eyes, the purple-green scales that surrounded them shimmering in the light. He served the Sadist's Grin as ship's medic, had been a part of Larabee's crew long enough to not get himself killed for insolence. Chris understood they both knew the words would be absorbed and accepted instead of simply batted away. Especially if the medic made a good point, which the man usually did. He'd also been around long enough to know he had no real reason to fear doing just that.

Nate was only half human, the other half Ss'tze - a reptilian race who were covered in the black pearly scales. Nathan carried mere traces of the smoothly textured skin: a flare that dusted his collarbones; a trailing patch on his hairless scalp; two rings around his eyes, barely there at the brows then thickening and spreading to reach near the end of his nose; a long, thin path all along his spine and starbursts on each hand.

The silence between them stretched, Nathan not bothering to repeat himself, Chris not bothering to answer.

Finally Jackson flinched first. "It will be different, having them all the time."

Chris gritted his teeth and looked away. He hadn't been exactly secretive about his vice; he hadn't considered it open for discussion either.

Nathan continued almost without pause. They both knew what he was talking about. "They won't be anonymous pretties anymore; won't be there until you've tired of them or it's all suddenly too close and too much so you decide you need out again. Buying them means you'll own them, their lives beholden to your beneficence."

"I know that," he ground out. The words brought him distaste he couldn't swallow down - buying… own…

Black eyes challenged him. "Owning them means they'll be yours. Yours to bring here. Here - as in on your ship. With you, with us. Yours as in your responsibility. That's a lot to suddenly be faced with, Chris. A big change. Want them in this crazy, driving way that you do you're still not prepared for what it means to own them." Nathan's voice held admonition and a sad knowing.

Chris flicked his eyes to the front then back to meet Nate's again. He decided not to answer the part about his crazy needs; didn't want to pursue how the man knew it was so, whether from his own transparency or other reasons.

His voice was dry when he spat out, "I think I can handle it."

"I think it's best to be sure. Treat them as you should, Chris. Decent at the very least." Nathan's voice roughened. "I'll be here, watching you, making sure you do. Get me?"

Chris regarded Nathan. He understood where the medic's words came from. Ss'tze were a people subjugated. They had been as long as the race of man had first tiptoed into space; and man, being what they are, had never taken pains to see that reality changed. Nathan was a half-breed, born of a human master and a Ss'tze "worker."

They'd met when he'd raided a cargo ship - a job he'd agreed to for consideration in a large percentage of whatever was found aboard. He'd expected valuable goods. Instead he'd found the vessel crammed tight with Ss'tze who had just been rounded up and were being sent to market. Chris had been livid with the corpulent, fool alien who had hired him. He'd threatened the idiot with painful death, cursed that he was no goddamned lizard wrangler. In truth he was sickened that this was the intended bounty, sickened at the idea of making profit off the huddling people he'd found in that limping ship.

Nathan had been aboard. Josiah had found him administering aid to the wounded. In return for liberating the ship and looking the other way as it floated back out into cold space and relative safety - a simple matter for JD considering it was an unmanned drone - he asked for Nathan to stay on his ship, tend to his crew.

The dark man had agreed, but to be certain Chris invoked his right and proclaimed Nathan his S'ident - shorthand lingo for a Ss'tze indentured servant. He'd explained it was only a precaution, that he wanted guarantees. Nathan had grudgingly accepted that; but it was tenuous, morally ambiguous ground. A place Chris was all too comfortable being.

"You haven't complained so far." Chris lifted a brow. "What's more you've stayed."

Nathan sighed sharply, muttering a few hissing, clicked curses. "Not like I had a choice in the matter. It was stay on board and have you leave the ship running to the slave trade or go with you… some rescuer you turned out to be." The voice was accusatory but teasing, wry without heat.

Chris snorted. "I'm a damned smuggler, Nate, not some fuckin' saint."

They both knew he wouldn't have abandoned the Ss'tze to that fate. He wouldn't have crusaded and forged a certain, forgiving path for them, but he was neither a monster nor a slaver. Threatening Nathan had been a calculated risk. Both had seen the advantage in the arrangement and both had agreed.

Both were still living the benefits of that bargain, now two years later.

"I know that." Nathan smiled. "I also know I'd never find better than here; I make a fortune as part of your crew and you give me the dignity to earn and keep it."

Chris shrugged. "You do earn it. That's good enough for me. I needed a medic - one who wouldn't be in any position to baackstab me for something better. Being who you are makes you exactly that for me." He tried to sound smug and self-serving.

It didn't quite work.

Nathan nodded, black eyes sly, lit with a spark of humor before they dulled serious again. "But I'm also telling you, saint or not, treat your "property" right or you'll live to regret it. In more ways than one, I'm sure." He paused meaningfully, head tilting so colors swirled across his face. "I might not find better, Chris. Might be just a half-breed lizard - but there are still things I know about you that can hurt. Things I wouldn't hesitate to see done if you turn those two into what you weren't willing to do me - or even that ship full of nameless Ss'tze."

The blond shook his head, eyes narrow. "You threatening me here?"

Nathan's smile grew, but the eyes were hard. "No threat involved, Larabee. Just letting you know where I stand and what I'd do about it if you and I end up seeing things differently."

Chris held Nathan's gaze. He searched the dark orbs, staring hard with his own that were filled with amber fires of anger, helpless desperation and hopeless acknowledgement the man was right.

Instead of giving voice to any of that he grunted with a tossed, "Hell, they're only crimhounds."

Nathan's scales shimmered their dark opalescence. He raised a brow, black eyes knowing. "Huh. Really."

Chris clenched his jaw tighter and glared a hole through the back of his unconcernedly retreating medic.

*******

Vin and Ezra had been in their room only a few minutes. Led had bustled over importantly, pushing through the crowded barroom to their platform. The Mesteric's orange eyes sparkled, yellow teeth losing strands of thick saliva as he laughed. They'd been ordered here, told to get ready. Their favorite customer was on the way - 'Captain' as he and Ezra had come to call him. It had been meant to sound mocking and demeaning, a word of rank and respect twisted foolish to slap on the man to keep him removed. It hadn't managed to achieve that goal.

Anticipation, strange and sure, had sped through him. One look in green eyes and Vin knew his mounting flutters of arousal and expectancy were mirrored within Ezra. He cupped his hand around Ezra's flushed cheek, leaning close for a kiss, stealing one while he could.

It was answered deeply, Ezra's mouth opening for his, their tongues dueling. Their bodies fired for one another; fired with excitement added that he would soon be there.

They jerked apart when the door was wrenched open. The man stood - jaw clenched, body rigid, anger and seething need swirling in with his long black coat.

There was no foreplay, no adjustment. Not even a moment for Captain to slide out of his coat, lose his weaponry. The blond ate the room in two large paces then grabbed Ezra from where they stood still loosely embraced. Captain crushed the man close for smothering kisses, hands furious as they stripped. Vin moved a step away, watching, blue eyes hungry and fascinated. After a moment he started circling, round and round them to remove clothing as they all journeyed to the bed.

A last, voracious kiss then Ezra was turned, lowered onto the bed knees first. Captain pushed until Ezra's cheek was against the mattress, his toes hooked over the edge, shapely ass ripe for the taking jutting into the air. Vin swallowed and prepared Ezra quickly when amber eyes commanded it.

He was watched with fierce intensity. Vin didn't take his time but he also worked to please Ezra, stroking deep to encourage the hidden sweet spot, watching as his lover shuddered under his sure assault. He also knew it would please Captain, the idea causing his own wracking shudders.

When Ezra was loosened he eased away, kissing one pale globe then the other before sinking onto the bed, knowing it was allowed. He watched Captain push home, watched the bright eyes slide shut, the distinctive features of the man's face opening as he sighed.

Ezra's body rolled and responded; hips rocking, thighs working, hands wide on the bed, elbows locked for greater leverage. A rhythm was established and held, Captain standing next to the bed hammering into Ezra, the green eyed man working Captain in return, drawing him back and forth again and again.

Vin observed it all as it pounded on and on, nerves on end, his heart hammering and his cock hard and hurting.

"Finish… him…."

A gritted, harsh voice penetrated Vin's awareness.

Captain was straining over Ezra's curled body, feet planted wide on the floor, quivering body sheened with sweat, already so close to the near madness that now overtook them all when together. Vin knew very well what a distraction topping his lover could be, knew all the wiles and ways Ezra could destroy a man with. He saw the need for control Captain couldn't assert with Ezra leading their coupling and answered the rough command.

Vin rolled on the mattress. He lifted Ezra's head in his hands, demanding a kiss. When the answer came in form of a probing tongue he pulled away, purposefully creating want denied. He moved along Ezra's side, kissing and biting as he went, hands busy as they played over the pale skin. Captain lifted Ezra off the bed some, enough so he could fit his head within the coil of his lover's body. He went down on the weeping erection, letting Ezra fuck his mouth as he held, knowing how much Ezra needed and wanted a fast release; feeling Captain urging them both on.

It didn't take long, his hands and mouth bringing Ezra to quick devastation. When Ezra quaked his last Vin moved away again, listing onto his back to stare up at his lover and the man filling him. Captain's back arched, his leg muscles bunching as he surged, fingers clenching into pale flesh as they tightened their securing grip. Ezra's body was now lax, open and receptive, no longer the taunting, coy lover of moments ago. The blond's head fell back, teeth bared, a barely leashed roar leaving him as he thrust rapidly, setting and holding a bruising pace. Captain's arms shook with effort, then his body stilled to a single, vibrating line where he stood, buried deep inside Ezra.

Vin rolled his head so he could see his lover, watched the handsome features contort, heard the sigh that escaped. He knew they weren't signs of restrained protest or discomfort. He reached out and idled a finger up Ezra's sweat covered neck, wanting to share the feelings, wanting to have it be known he shared them. A trace of a smile on his lover's face told him it was.

Vin looked back up in time to see a whisper of a kiss dusted against the small of Ezra's back, hands gracing a fleeting caress over heaving flanks. The amber eyes were closed, the distinctive face as near to relaxed as he'd ever seen. It shimmered away abruptly, the lean body stiffening then jerking up from Ezra's bent form. Two long fingers ringed Captain's spent organ at its base and held, then the man loosened free and stepped away, eyes dim and narrow in a glare.

Vin watched him go, knew he was going to get cleaned of their scent and feel, as always. He also knew the man would return. As always. He scooted closer and gathered Ezra in. Another thing softening him to this man - the allowance granted that he be able to touch and have such unchallenged familiarity with his love who was, for the moment, considered someone else's property.

He laid in silence, listening to Ezra's breath, the movements of their consort within their room. Footsteps then nothing. Vin opened his eyes. Captain stood next to the bed, looking down at them.

"Your turn."

It was an order, certainly. But lacing the curt tone was something else… a raw need Vin could sense more than prove. He didn't argue - didn't want to. His only concern was if Ezra would be up to this or not. As if in answer his lover rolled, arms spanning to lock around his frame. Green eyes flashed, still capable of the heady alchemy that were Ezra's secrets, Ezra's love, meant only for him. Vin nodded, more in answer to his other than for the man waiting for them to perform.

They rolled together, Vin moving with sureness to gain position between legs, now wide with ready invitation. He entered Ezra with a steady, smooth thrust - gritting his teeth against the brief surge of rage that remnants of Captain's wet release greeted him, finding it harder to ignore the undeniable escalation of his arousal that the traces of the man created.

Heat shimmered down his spine - burning trails left from fingers, the touch enflaming, almost gentle. They splayed in a light touch at his hip and started to tighten. Then they were gone.

He wasn't aware of Captain's retreat to the chair but could feel it all the same. Vin closed his eyes and responded to Ezra - responded for Captain.

*

The lightest of a returned caress feathered across Vin's knuckles. He met Ezra's eyes, distance leaving his blues as he came back into the moment.

He wanted to tilt his head in, cup his hand around Ezra's head, stroke deep into the silky hair and kiss the man senseless, take the hollowness from the green eyes he knew so well and was starting to lose.

Was terrified of never seeing again.

Instead he rippled his fingers, one after the other in a small undulation, each one bumping up to hit Ezra's hovering thumb. Green eyes warmed, nearing the Ezra that Vin had met and fallen in love with.

The uncertain silence stretched on and on they waited.

*******

Chris turned in his chair. He managed not to grumble.

Josiah had come to the bridge. That wasn't anything to cause annoyance.

What was annoying Chris specifically was that Josiah had come to the bridge for a reason. And Chris knew that reason. But the damned stubborn man was waiting for him to ask why.

He shifted again, for whatever reason unable to keep still as was his usual habit. Chris wasn't one for fidgeting; but today and all that it meant combined with Josiah's obvious study of him was getting the better of his physical patience. Chris muttered darkly under his breath, watching his mechanic work.

Josiah was Pakarian. A race of people older than known time as far as humans were concerned. They were built similarly to them; two legs, two arms, head at the top of the a-frame body. But inside was vastly different, with parts built to last that made them near to juggernauts with their resilience and strength. Pakarians had used this to their benefit. They'd started out a vicious, violent race, intent on conquest. This was carried out more for the joy of the fight and the following chaos that ensued than expanding their empire. They'd war mongered their way from one end of the universe to the other for centuries. Some planets they enslaved, others they scoured clean of all life just for play.

Then a turning point came. A strange series of events that made the Pakarians change their minds.

They'd found God.

Or at least their version of some higher power.

Now they were a race that practiced only penance, making up for an eon of sins.

No one knew where exactly Josiah fit into all of it. Pakarians were notoriously tight lipped about their pasts, speaking in cryptic turns of phrase and making everything into muddled parables. But the mechanic was a further conundrum. He didn't preach nor did he chase the elusive prey that was converts. He was troubled, burdened; yet he sought to unburden others.

And he wasn't always all peace and goodness either.

It wasn't anything Josiah had offered upon - nothing anyone sought clarification about. For all his peoples' recent decision to be a passive, caring species, the hardwiring of a brutal warrior race ran deep. No one wanted to be the one to ask Josiah a question that sparked a bad memory. Being on the wrong end of a Pakarian temper did not make for a long life.

Josiah fiddled with something under one of the side consoles. Chris continued to watch while they both continued to wait.

The same process was repeated again and again; a filament exposed then tested then reset, then onto a new bundle to be opened and tested. Josiah was running an unnecessarily thorough diagnostic on a computer station that had no problems.

It wasn't work the Pakarian would mind. He saw everything as meditation, taking the 'opportunity of the mundane' to help him work towards enlightenment.

Chris snorted. That was all well and good until something didn't work right and Josiah couldn't figure out why. Then the enlightenment was usually meted out rather forcibly upon whatever it was that was refusing to cooperate.

Crystal blue eyes shifted over to him from under the console. Josiah stared at him a moment then made a short 'eh' noise. He went back to work.

After counting to five hundred then making a mental chart of the fastest route through the Aburments Abyss - a tangle of collapsing suns seething on the brink of black hole - Chris finally gave in.

"All right. Spit it out," he snapped.

Josiah didn't even move, hands still buried in the console where they reached up from where he was laying. The big mechanic shrugged. "Nothing to spit, Chris."

He was singularly unamused. "Fine. Then tell me. Or say it. Or fuckin' preach it. I don't give a damn. Just get to your point."

Broad hands paused. Glinting blue eyes met his glare.

"No point to this, really. Just making sure."

Chris narrowed his gaze. "Making sure of what?"

Josiah's hand waved casually through the air. "Sometimes everything looks fine. It's running fine, doing what everyone expects of it. Usually that means that it is. But sometimes," here a brow arched meaningfully, "sometimes you should check. Make sure. Just so you know."

He rolled his eyes, teeth gritting. Great. Josiah was in an analogy, learn from this life example mood.

Chris figured his best option was to play along. "And? So? How's it going then?" His tone was tight but he couldn't quite mask his pique.

Josiah's face broke into a grin. "So far so good."

He grumbled. Just what the fuck did that mean. Chris jerked his chin. "Meaning?"

"Everything is responding precisely as I'd expected."

Sometimes Chris hated the fact that it'd likely break his hand to crack Josiah one across the jaw. He bit out, "And that's a good thing?"

"It isn't a matter of good. Or of bad. It simply is." Josiah stuck his hand into his toolbox, rifling through it without looking. After a moment he made a sound of satisfaction then pulled the tool loose and set back to work. He shrugged again. "Like I said, I'm just making sure."

Chris sighed. He really wished he just knew what the hell Josiah was talking about.

He had the feeling he did and didn't want to admit it.

So what if he was coming slightly unglued. It wasn't anyone else's damn business to keep watch over him as he slowly untethered.

Chris' tone was softened with his growing tiredness and reluctant appreciation. "Will this job take you all day?"

Josiah paused again to look at him. "Might. Have to wait and see."

He nodded. "Be here tomorrow too?"

Blue eyes were steady. "Depends. Might have other things to make sure about come tomorrow. I'll know once I find out how today's work turns out. If anything new comes up, I'll probably be checking on it instead."

Chris' brow knitted as he nodded absently. His head turned and his eyes grew distant and Josiah let him go, keeping steadily on with his diagnostic chores.

*******

It was amazing what could come to be thought of as luxury when bleak comparisons became a reality by which to measure.

Ezra rolled on the bed, ever mindful of Vin's sleep. He allowed his body to relax back into the mattress by increments. His chin was propped on his wrist, green eyes staring at the far wall. He lay on his stomach, body in a diagonal across the bed, as if it were a line to cut off a triangle from the end of the mattress. Vin was curled up on the other end, bony spine pressed into his flank a point of contact remaining between them.

He could almost hear the sounds that should have greeted them if this were a true dawn, sun breaking over the distant hills protecting the sweeping valley he and Vin had built their house nestled within. He could nearly see the wood floor, knew how it would feel under his soles when he crept off the mattress to make breakfast before his lover awoke, returning to their bed with tray in hand so they could languidly feed one another. Ezra sighed, his foot rubbing absently against the sheet. The rough, worn quality reminded him. This wasn't home.

Even such it was the best they'd had in a long time. They had been under hire four days running. They had been informed they'd be used several days more. Ezra let his eyes drift shut and he pulled in a long breath of air. It felt so good lying here, alone with Vin, away from the noise and ogling and bartering that ruled their existence.

It even felt good to have the luxury of time and solitude to allow his idle, useless fantasies to flourish, if only for a brief moment.

Captain was in port and would be for some time. So here he and Vin were, ready and waiting, bought and paid for to be available for whenever the man wanted.

He yawned, smiling sleepily, the grin growing when his stretch passed over into Vin, lean body arching out then curling back tighter to his.

This morning they'd woken up alone. Something happened that Ezra had come to believe he may never be able to indulge ever again.

The natural desire to make love with his chosen.

Vin had been pillowed against his chest, their legs tangled, bodies sprawled on the huge bed. Ezra had caressed the bronze skin, lazy traces with his lifted fingers, back and forth, back and forth over the silken expanse.

Then his fingers had wanted more. He'd continued his venturing, combing through the long hair that had always held such attraction for him. He'd shifted so he could cradle Vin better with his legs, at the same time allowing room for his hardening erection.

Vin had answered; hands insistent but measured, filled with desire not command.

They'd come with deliberate simplicity, their bodies locked and surging, sensitized cocks pressed between them as they thrust. He'd held the loving blue gaze as the rippling heat overcame and he abandoned, daring to whisper Vin's name, able to stay in those strong arms and keep Vin in his as they floated back down.

When they'd stirred again Vin found the food, a relatively generous larder laid out and waiting for them - nothing lavish, but everything had actual flavor and held appeal to spark his appetite, unlike the rations they were normally given each day.

They had speculated about how much this was costing Captain. Ezra knew the man dealt in shady operations but he could care less. He was certainly none to cast stones against making profit through such means. His calculations told him a small fortune was being burned through to keep them this way.

Ezra was determined to soak in every moment of it.

He cracked an eye open, gaze flitting around the large room. He found himself not wholly covetous of time alone with Vin, wanting Captain to be there with them, thinking about the man when he was gone. Ezra knew it was the same for his lover.

These past few days had been like all the others Captain had arrived and paid for their time. Sometimes Captain would storm through the door and want action, hard and fast and now. Other times he'd lead them slow, wanting all three in the bed. On occasion Ezra had watched, while others Vin had.

If there was to be a voyeur, most often it was Captain doing the watching. The brusque command of 'go on' would be thrown at them - and they would. Ezra would top a night through. The next it would be Vin topping. Captain didn't seem to care which as long as they fucked good and hard. It was as close to together as they'd had since the whole nightmare of their incarceration began. They'd writhe on the bed, hands and eyes and thoughts only for each other. Captain would remain, a dour shadow curled as a low menace in the chair that tilted out from the corner of the room, one hand gripping bottle after bottle of gratiean ale, the other the man's erection.

Ezra eased his body in a slow roll, turning to capture Vin in an embrace. He tucked the slumbering form close, enjoying the security of Vin's breath and the instinctive insinuations that his lover had followed to snuggle back in against him. As he drifted back towards sleep a realization filtered its way in.

It was no longer the same. These past few days had followed the same course, true, but they'd felt different. Ezra knew what had changed. It didn't take pretending Captain wasn't there to feel close and alone with Vin anymore.

It was starting to take Captain being there.

*

Vin tensed and Ezra snapped his attention to focus sharply on what was happening around them, banishing his musings. The lean body was almost vibrating, his lover's hands clenching tight around the edge of the narrow metal bench they were sitting on.

Ezra scanned the area, senses alert and seeking. Noises of movement. Approaching footsteps. He wondered if the time had finally come.

He held his breath until it hurt then he held it longer. Vin looked ready to strike, body coiled and poised, reminding Ezra of the times before... before all this.

The footsteps rapped smartly now, sharp and clear and only inches away.

Ezra allowed his right hand to shoot out - he gripped Vin's elbow tightly, the gesture concealed between their bodies. Vin leaned into him with a subtle increment.

They were passed by, unnoticed, the chattering aliens oblivious to their presence.

The footsteps grew dull and discordant as they echoed away.

Ezra let his eyes close, his breath leaving him in a tightly controlled stream.

*******

Chris growled when Buck forced him into the small conference room that adjoined the bridge. It was more a useless bit of dead space between the bulkhead and the conveyer that had been converted, but they gathered here to discuss matters on hand and to come, so the moniker 'conference' had stuck.

He batted at the strong grip, wanting to get free. He wrenched away, whirling, amber eyes promising violent, painful death.

He'd finally lost control of the wrath that had been barely reined within him, standing on the bridge and cussing a blue streak at Buck while the others gaped in soundless astonishment. Chris had a temper, that was for certain. And often it was Buck who managed to get their captain going - but never had it been like that. So ruthless; so personal.

Midway through Chris' diatribe Buck had grabbed him, dragging him into the small room so they could have privacy as he vented out the rest of his frustrations; furied words masking the fear that time had truly run out for him... and his pretties.

Now that he was here he found he had nothing to say. He'd lost momentum, adrenaline and words failing him as he stood in the quiet room. One minute then two passed. Chris sucked in breaths, head spinning, heart hammering. Buck waited; patient, silent, ready.

Chris started from scratch, ignoring the spiteful attack he'd just spewed, just like he knew Buck had and would. "We're late because of you. I'm late." He felt it necessary to make that clarification.

Buck shrugged. "Did what I thought I should."

Chris snorted. "You thought it was a good idea to set up a meeting with a potential interested party then bail on them just as they were about to board?" He bared his teeth briefly and glowered.

Buck pushed his breath out through his teeth. "Yeah, that's about right." Blue eyes narrowed to match Chris' glare. "When I first arranged the meet it seemed the best idea - once I'd done some thinking on everything, seen more than I knew before, I realized it wasn't."

"What… you find out they didn't have the credit to bank the job? You find out they were gonna burn us to the Fedders?" Chris' voice became mocking. "Oh, I know. You decided the job was just too damn dangerous and more than we could handle."

Buck's chin rose defiantly. "I decided there was something going on that was getting dangerous - something already not being handled. That's what got us here at least."

Chris' whole face tightened. "Explain that," he gritted out.

Blue eyes shuttered to mere slits. "You know what I'm meaning."

He did. He just wanted to hear it from Buck. Wanted to have the blunt trauma of the words "you're losing it, asshole, and figuring out a way to make you miss the bidding on those damn whores was the only way I could think up to dredge a modicum of sanity back up into that mucked brain of yours."

Wanted it but feared hearing it, knew he'd fly into a greater rage if he did.

Buck had hustled and danced and kept him distracted long enough so that he missed the bidding. Missed it because of a damn bogus would-be meeting the lanky man had wrangled them into then reneged on just as clandestinely.

Today was the day. A year. A year since he'd seen them… perfect pretties on display, Led's knowing, manipulative ways bringing them into his life. He'd also known because they were new - that day - that their deed would be up, leaving it open for anyone else to snatch for their own. Chris had been determined for a long time now to buy them for himself.

That's what he was supposed to have been doing - staying firmly entrenched in his quarters, safe from distraction, bidding and winning them then traveling to claim them. Not finishing one job Buck had purposefully run them late on. Not moving on to the next that turned out to be nothing more than a bullshit meet and greet for a job he hadn't even know was available for the taking; a job they didn't even end up getting, that miserable cut just adding to his ire.

Chris should have brought it all into the open, this fucked up mess his existence had become: his anger and his shame and the whisperings of 'more' he was fighting so hard not to hear; the terrifying need he couldn't explain to anyone, not even himself, even if part of him believed Buck would just understand the way the man always did. He didn't want to face his seething rage that it could be possible he'd be denied them; didn't want to feel the grudging warmth of gratitude that Buck still looked out for him with the same thorough concern as always. Instead of giving voice to all that his lips pursed into a bitter line.

He spat out, "Yeah? Well it was your fuckin' decision to take the extra job. A decision you made without clearing anything with me first… a decision you couldn't even bloody finish!" Chris' eyes blazed.

"I know." Buck's voice was soft, the syllables almost nonexistent.

It kicked Chris right out of his angered indignity. He blinked a few times then sighed heavily, drooping into a chair. "It was on purpose." He made it a declaration of fact. They both knew it was the truth.

Blue eyes met his, steady, filled with unexpected repentance. "Yes. It was." Buck shook his head then looked away.

Chris chewed on his lip for a while before wanting to say anything else. He didn't have any good questions and he'd used up all his driving anger. Finally he landed at and settled on a lamely pushed out, "Why?"

"Cause it scared me, what was going on - what they were doing to you!" The normally smooth voice was rough, leveled up with an acceleration of anxiety. Buck continued. "It scared me that something could be happening to you that shouldn't… that I was watching you get lost into it right in front of me… I thought if it was just stopped long enough you could step back and see how wrapped up in them you'd become and be able to ease away... get something of yourself back for god's sake."

Chris sighed. He really had lost control. His eyes closed, some in defeat, all in weariness.

Buck's tone softened. "You'd never been that far gone - not even after Sarah and you drank yourself from one black hole to another. I thought… well…" He made a sharp noise of impatience. "It seemed like the best idea."

Chris rubbed at his eyes with his fingers. "And now?" His voice was muffled, his head bent against his chest.

"Shit. I don't even know. I just know… it became even clearer you need them… and that's the first thing I've seen you need in a long time, Larabee. So if you need them then you got them…" Buck's breath whooshed out when he dropped into the low seat across from Chris'. "I also know how hard they have it, how bad. If owning you while you own them is a way out, it's 'bout as good a one I know. Hopefully for all'a ya."

He did open his eyes at this. Opened them to look with intensity at his friend. Blue eyes waited, clear and readable; dampened with burdens new now shared and as old as the man carrying them. He nodded but didn't answer. There were no good words anyway.

Buck was a rare thing indeed. A full human son of a space whore. Children were odd enough, most pros choosing sterilization or being forcibly led to the choice. Full human was even rarer with all the couplings and interminglings available. He'd been borne to a loving couple who had forged a brutal life as star pioneers, leaving the known confines of agreeable, easy space to inhabit a faraway moon as colonists. Buck had been come into life on that merciless rock floating so many millions of light years away from anything else - and soon after it had gotten even harder.

Buck's father had been killed. Who knew how, really. Certainly not Buck. He was just an infant when it happened and his mother refused to speak of it when he'd come of age to ask. No one else deigned to enlighten him either. He was nothing more than a bit of baggage clinging to a piece of used goods that were now decaying on a colony that had seemed doomed from the start to fail. Because Buck's mother hadn't been directly employable - no jobs or room within the tight, rigid economy anyway - she'd fallen to the universally timeless way of finding means. Prostitution.

Chris clenched his jaw. If anyone, Buck would know what that life would do to a person. He had been told a few stories of what it had been like growing up; before Buck had been able to escape, the empty shell of his mother left behind, the engaging, vivacious personality she'd gifted to her son drugged and rutted out of her.

Finally he roused himself. "Sorry…" It was almost not said. He wasn't even sure why he had. Chris had felt compelled to. Wanted to. Wanted it to be for everything even though he knew it couldn't fix anything. He figured that was enough.

"S'okay, Pard. I'm sorry too. Shouldn't have interfered. Even if I thought I was helping." Blue eyes apologized through a wan smile.

He nodded. "You can make up for it by helping me get them back." Chris looked away, seeing the question in Buck's eyes. He didn't know how the hell he'd get them either. "I'll figure it out. You just be ready." He tilted his head, glaring back up.

Blue gleamed then pricked like chipped ice, hardening over with determined purpose. "Anything you need, you got. Just lemme know. Owe you that for messing this all up…"

Those familiar eyes told him and for everything else shared between them. When he would have answered Buck's hand shot out, effectively cutting him off, not letting him say he knew and it was the same. The man shook his head then rose slowly, coming to stand in front of him.

"Stay here a bit, cool off… then c'mon back out to the bridge. I'll see what I can find out in the meantime."

Chris bobbed his head, their eyes locking and saying and sharing more than either of them would ever admit aloud, then he went back to brooding while Buck eased silently away.

He'd used violence to get them before… he'd be willing to take it to a greater extreme. Willing to try and alter the reality of not owning them as he'd been determined to, but had been prevented from achieving.

His head sunk back, eyes closing. Chris tried to formulate a plan, any plan, that he could set into motion once at 4Cport, some way of getting them and smuggling them back out again. They'd have IDtags to be rid of. The winner of their condeeds would likely have put tracers in them as well. Of course there was security and the confinement cell they'd be held in if Led somehow hadn't won the bidding. Chris ground his teeth. He wasn't the best damn smuggler for no reason. He'd find a way.

His thoughts carried to them, Chris' body relaxing instinctively in response. Instead of staying focused on his plans, Chris' mind drifted…

*******

Chris strode into the Saloon, eyes active. They quickly became impatient, restive when what they sought was not immediately visible. He clenched his fists at his sides and headed for the bar.

Led was nowhere to be seen, other employees seeing to customers and doing the busy work of tending bar. Chris' frown grew, his eyes narrowing. He scanned the upper balcony, searching.

Rabid heat flared through him at what he saw.

Green eyes being lead into a room - Led smiling nearby, closing the deal with the customer.

Chris growled low, the sound an animalistic vibration. The bartender who had been about to offer a drink made a hasty retreat, humming wings carrying the delicate creature as she sped away.

It was bad enough Led was trying to sell green eyes out from under him. The damnable Mesteric knew he was arriving today. But that would be a mere aggravation he'd settle with a bare show of menace and money. This situation called for much more.

The client was an alien Chris had warned before. An Urgen - an ugly creature that could choose to be bipedal among the hominids, but found greater speed and agility when using all four sinewy appendages in a strange, sideways gait. A thick patch of hair grew on its back, the rest of its green-brown body hardened and leathery. Their clothing styling of choice was to cover only the essentials. Chris had always thought they looked something like ridiculous tortoises.

Urgens weren't particularly repulsive unto themselves. They didn't cause trouble as a general rule; he'd even smuggled for a few and made a tidy profit within an agreeable deal. But this one specifically had harmed green eyes, Chris showing up just in time to see the pale flesh so freshly marred; the newly bruising eye, the long cut down green eyes' back caused by the Urgen's hooked thumb that grew from the base of its wrist, the bruising further down that had made Chris nearly crazy to see…

He'd seen the Urgen leave as he'd arrived. Had cornered the rotund little shit after securing green eyes for the night and ordering medical treatment. Then he'd threatened. Go near him again and you won't live to regret it.

Apparently he wasn't taken seriously.

It wasn't exactly common for whores to have protectors; it wasn't completely unheard of either. He'd known then the Urgen hadn't liked the warning, but he could give a rat's ass. That fuckin' turtle should have known better.

Chris snorted. So should Led.

He took the stairs two at a time, long coat twisting around to slap his calves as he ran. The blond rested his hand on his weapon. He was behind them just in time to hear Led finish with:

"And I do hope you enjoy yourself…"

"Not this time," he gritted out, voice a low, hostile rasp.

The trio's attention shifted to him. Green eyes met his glance and he nodded once tersely. The Urgen dropped to all fours, readying itself, blunt, dirty teeth bared. Led flew around to look at him, skin whorling panicked colors, hands flying.

"Ah… Captain! I … well, I wasn't expecting you, you see, and… if I'd only been certain you were about to arrive…"

Chris sneered. "Shove it Led." He didn't bother to give the Mesteric time to answer. He reached out and grabbed Led's shoulder, pushing the floundering alien aside. Chris loomed over the Urgen. "Thought you and I understood each other about this."

Led made a last ditch attempt at intervention.

"The other one you fancy! He's not quite started yet… with a most forgiving client too! I might be able to…"

Chris didn't let him get further. Nor did he turn around to answer. "Go get him," he snapped out.

Tense seconds passed while he waited, then air shifted behind him, his peripheral vision picking up movement. Led, hugging the balcony railing to squirm past his barely coiled violence. The Mesteric trundled quickly away. Chris paid attention long enough to know what room the shifty alien had disappeared into then he focused entirely on the Urgen.

"I don't like to repeat myself." Chris' nostrils flared.

A thick purple tongue appeared to swipe over the brown teeth. Chris widened his stance, shifting his weight so his center became lower. The next moment the Urgen was careening towards him.

Chris grappled with the alien, one hand digging to hold in the thick hair, the other reaching back to grip around the top of the railing so he wouldn't topple over. He grunted when he was forced against the metal slats, the Urgen's fist managing to knock a blow at his solar plexus.

He pushed up onto the balls of his feet, yanking hard then tossing aside the clump of hair and diving back in to pull out another. The Urgen screeched. Chris kicked. Once, then twice. The Urgen fell away but he didn't abate.

Chris spun around when strong arms started to clamp around his thighs. He bashed closed fists down, blows landing at the same time on each of the Urgen's shoulders. A low grunt but still the beast held; Chris smashed again. The arms loosened and he swung down to hammer another drop.

The world undid, lights streaking, a deafening roar entering his head when it thudded against the metal balcony. The Urgen gained its feet, rising over Chris where he'd been tumbled. He gritted his teeth and waited.

The Urgen lowered to crouch again, muscles tensed, ready. Chris watched him closely, ignoring the growing throb in his head and the protesting muscles where his legs had been strangled. The Urgen's back end wiggled and Chris knew.

He raised both feet, locking them close together then he kicked out. The heels of his boots stabbed square in the Urgen's chest, stopping the flying tackle midair.

Chris rolled to his side and pushed up then stayed low to the ground, hands open, arms swinging loose. He should just pull his gun and blast the fucker and be done with it. Too much of him was enjoying the Urgen's punishment to do so.

They wrestled for another round, Chris landing several satisfying blows, the Urgen managing only a few as the lithe man stayed a step ahead. Again and again they circled until the blond managed an upswing to crack into the Urgen's chin, an oozing line of purple blood beginning to seep from its mouth. They staggered away from each other.

They were both sucking in harsh gasps now, a small crowd gathered around to see where this would end. Green eyes was anchored in the doorway, watching and waiting like everyone else. Chris couldn't help but feel that green eyes would help if he could. But whores who fought any client were quickly - and painfully - dispatched.

The Urgen's all brown eyes flickered, then they took on a predatory, sinister gleam. Chris watched as the alien changed direction of its next attack.

He turned in time to see the new target. Blue.

One of the Urgen's arms was raised, spiked knife lifted in its meaty hand, plunging in an arc to plant into blue's chest.

Chris' whole face contorted when he roared. He lunged forward, left arm snaking out, right drawing his weapon.

His nails bit into leathery flesh where he grabbed, arm muscles straining. His hold on the Urgen's shoulder momentarily weakened but Chris surged on, blind fury powering him. He knocked out with a foot, cracking into the Urgen's ankle, then he gave a hard yank.

The Urgen twisted awkwardly.

Chris lifted his gun and fired.

A metallic clatter sounded in the silence that followed, the jagged knife falling harmlessly onto the grated balcony to skitter a few inches from the Urgen's hand. The alien was crumpled on the metal floor, a smoking crater denting where its face had been.

Chris stood sentry, eyes blazing, weapon still drawn and ready, daring anyone to defy him. No one did.

He was vaguely aware of Led's voice, knew that green eyes and blue were being hustled into the room they always used when together. Chris didn't answer the solicitous whines that followed, stopping Led short by glaring at the Mesteric for a beat then dragging his fiery gaze away again.

The duplicitous alien took the hint.

Within moments the scavengers descended. The Urgen's personal effects were neatly stripped to the last: clothing, weaponry, credit marks, even the teeth and its hooked thumb talons were ripped free. All these items slipping into the pockets of the horde of scurrying aliens that had come to claim their share of the newly liberated goods.

The carrion eaters would venture out next, soundless, almost seeping along the shadowy floor. They'd cluster in a huddle to devour the fresh offering. It wouldn't be long before all trace of the slain Urgen was eradicated.

Chris heaved a few more breaths then spun on a heel. He didn't bother to holster his weapon as he strode into his room, slamming the door shut as he went, voice barking at it to lock. His fingers were already busy undoing his belt, then they moved on to start dragging at his coat.

He watched blue, his heart betraying him for an instant when long fingers caressed in a slow, open weave down green eyes' face. Green eyes smiled, a small and soft gesture, hand lifting to cover blue's. Both their hands hovered over where green eyes had sported the bloodied then blackened eye after the Urgen's last visit.

Chris bit back his intense wave of jealousy. The maddening, endless want for more from them he'd long ago vowed to himself he wouldn't allow to intrude.

He shook it away, growling in his chest when he started towards them again.

They turned away from one another, hands still caught in a tangle, waiting for him. Their eyes were as close to pleased as Chris ever seen. Whether at his arrival or in thanks for killing the brute he wasn't sure, but he also didn't care. He just liked seeing it - thrilling and arousing and reassuring to his inner tumult - and for now that was good enough.

Chris kicked out of his boots, gripping blue's elbow as he continued unabated towards the bed. He hauled the lean man with him as he went, free hand busy with his fly. He tried to be the same but couldn't quite, his touch gentler, his maneuvering of blue part order, part entreaty.

He stopped at the foot of the mattress, lowering blue onto the bed, one hand supporting where it still clasped an elbow, the other burrowing into long hair. The man went easily. Chris combed his fingers out of the sienna waves then stood, his right hand maintaining contact with blue. He narrowed his eyes then flickered them up to meet green. Chris crooked a finger and wiggled it in a small 'c'mere' motion. The last of green eyes' clothing fell away as he journeyed towards the bed.

Chris waited until they were both lying in front of him. He laid down slowly, one hand lightly stroking his cock, the other pressing into the mattress as he eased down. Hands met his flesh, gripping to hold his hand that held his erection, playing like fire over his nipples, up his ass, over his entire being. Then more than hands were busy in their pursuits.

He wanted the same, wanting to feel them; wanting to soothe and be soothed in return, these driving emotions sliding right into place next to raw desire without his being truly aware. Chris reached for blue, their mouths meeting. Then he turned to green eyes, wanting a kiss… wanting so much more…

No further instruction was required.

*******

"Acknowledged and Verified. Sadist's Grin, you are cleared for docking."

JD ignored the continuing babble of the computer as the ship was piloted to their assigned port. He looked over at Buck and rolled his eyes, the two shaking their heads that the rules and new Federated Space mandates added to the "greeting" were even longer than the last them they'd been here.

The ship lurched, then a dull shriek of metal groaned. They were locked in. A low whine sounded all around them as Buck powered down. JD jerked his chin, blue eyes following his gesture and nodding understanding.

JD popped up from his chair, words half out of his mouth. "So, Chris, before you go…" He blinked twice then sighed deeply. The captain was already gone. He flopped right back down again.

Buck's hand fell onto his shoulder, warm laugher rumbling. "Make it quick, kid. And whatever you do, don't get in his way. Liable to lose your head." A blue eye winked, but they weren't filled with the playful humor JD expected.

It seemed his friend knew all about it as well, was just as worried as he. JD wondered at the guilt he saw in Buck's eyes, understood the deep concern. He hoped what he'd done would help put all this to rights again.

He shook his head, rolling his hands and huffing, but he still smiled to further the illusion of their bantering, careless chat. JD stood then sped his steps, following the retreating sound of footsteps. He rounded one corridor then another. A fourth finally presented him with the blond's back.

JD cupped a hand around his mouth and called out, "Hey Cap'n!"

Chris didn't even slow down, much less acknowledge JD had spoken. He started into a trot and tried again. His third attempt wasn't as cordial. "Dammit Chris! Wait up already." His voice was sharp with impatience.

Chris threw a glance behind him, sparing a second to look at the younger man over his shoulder. Their eyes met in a brief flicker then the blond turned to the front again, the rapid stalking never faltering. It was apparent the man wasn't willing to give more.

"For fuck's sake…" JD hissed with a sigh, not really intending for Chris to hear it; not bothering to make sure he didn't either.

A second passed then Chris asked, "What is it?"

The words were tight and unforgiving, thrown out to hover in the air, waiting until JD broke through them as he kept on. He'd almost caught up and was keeping pace just behind Chris' shoulder. He lengthened his stride, trying to come even.

"I had to use your name - forged your IDcode so credits could be accessed." He licked his lips then added, "It wasn't any small amount."

He watched as Chris' teeth ground in annoyance. A moment later the captain's hand sliced though the air in a dismissive gesture.

"Fine, JD. Tell me the details later."

JD almost reached out to try and physically bar Chris from going further. Almost, but he knew better. Instead he charged, "But that's what I'm trying to get at - the details are important now." His voice went up a measure, tremoring with insistence. It's not like he hadn't done this before; Chris trusted him - with the captain's money and how best to put it to use if such occasion called. But despite his pleased sputter the confidence displayed lurking beneath the short impatience enlivened, JD felt it necessary to press on.

Chris came to a stop and whirled around. His hands shot out, cupping around JD's shoulders to stop the younger man from running smack into him. He narrowed his gave and spat out, "Not. Now." His jaw continued to work, the amber eyes blazing.

When Chris stepped back a pace JD opened his mouth. Chris slammed his eyes shut and he held up a single finger - in warning and in stilling. He spun back around on his heel and stormed off without another word.

JD watched him go, sighing in admission of defeat. It had taken no small amount of effort to get berth here on this ship; proving himself the best computer tech and handler to Larabee hadn't been easy. But here he was, doing what he'd set out to achieve. JD still questioned his sanity at what had made his motives to get here from time to time. A longer moment of brooding he allowed then he shook his head slowly. He turned about to trail back towards the bridge, muttering as he went, "Stubborn… Damn ingrate… Miserable bastard…"

He'd give Chris hell for this one, that was for certain. And he'd have well earned the right to do it.

*******

Led smiled at his approach, orange eyes giving away the Mesteric's displeasure. A frosted orange glass of ale appeared, as always. Chris reached to take it, but Led's fingers stayed fast about it. He narrowed his gaze.

Blue pupils widened then became nearly invisible in narrowness. "Congratulations are in order, Captain." Led inclined his head, yellow teeth breaking through the insincere grin.

Chris didn't answer. He had no idea what he was being congratulated for or what game Led was playing at. He just grunted, claiming hold of his drink then downed it in a long swallow. When he righted again Led was pointing a finger at him, waggling it back and forth, purple talon catching the multicolored lights that danced through the bar.

"Very tricky, very tricky indeed. A maneuver almost worthy of one of my own." Led laughed, a peculiar sound that had not an ounce of humanness in it. "It certainly rates another drink!"

Larabee tightened his jaw. It was usually a bad thing when two drinks came his way free of charge.

"Oh now!" The Mesteric frowned, face flushing an annoyed green. "This is no way to look after winning the bidding war! Especially not seeing as how you handled it with such… aplomb."

Chris raised a brow over his unamused glare. He wouldn't bet on it, but he was almost certain Led had learned that word specifically to throw at him right now.

Led's hands flew up into the air, mottled skin kaleidoscoping in brilliant irritation then settling back down to tepid gray. "All right, all right! Forget the festivities and good cheer." Folds of skin that hung off the very long, very gaunt arms bunched when he leaned down behind the bar. Led popped back up and held out a data cylinder, smiling, orange eyes splotched with yellow, a sure sign of anger.

Chris took the small canister and cracked it open. Before him sprang a series of communications. They appeared to be credit transactions. The last was at 23:59 4C Standard - the amount bid was exactly one credit higher than the one that had been standing winner for the past few hours. Led's bid. Chris' thoughts slammed into a single name: JD. He almost reacted, but long years of practice at implacable negotiation disallowed it. He might actually have to thank the little shit when he was back aboard the Sadist's Grin. Instead of voicing a reply he merely shrugged.

A metallic tisk rang through the air. "However did you manage it? Making only the one bid, waiting until the last possible second to do so! When the day opened I was sure I would see your name lurking on the long list of interested parties."

As he prattled on about some nonsense Led waddled from the bar, getting the two items that now belonged to Chris from a concealed compartment. When he returned he set the two condeed cylinders on the gleaming bar. One was green, the other blue. So, Led wasn't entirely without superfluous, sentimental touches. Inside each cylinder hovered a platinum rod, so thin they were almost invisible. Chris didn't waste any time. His hand had already found his ID marker, had been closed around it and ready ever since realizing what JD had done, that his tech operator had won the two by forging his name and accessing his accounts. Chris couldn't begin to speculate how the kid had done it with such brilliant simplicity. He'd have to add asking how to his attempt at a thanks. The blond snapped each cylinder into the marker, waiting for the muted strobe of light to blip within, then he pocketed it again. Chris left the condeeds on the bartop for show.

Relief filled him in a rush, then tumbling over that other emotions warring inside he was having trouble seeing through. Mixtures of pleasure and need, hope and want, desire and a breathless sense of 'more.' Chris couldn't stop the flood at first, but with practiced discipline he waded through and asserted his cool and detached bearings, knowing the turmoil would have barely registered. Now was not the time or the place.

Led fanned his hand through the air over the condeeds then leaned close. An orange eye winked, the inner lid closing left to right. "I was beginning to think I'd finally be proven wrong about my flawless expertise concerning my customers and their vices."

For a brief moment Chris idled with the idea of taking his damned orange frosty glass and spearing it through Led's jugular. The violence was easily repressed. He depended on this place for his business; this place depended on Led to flourish. Chris loosened his hold on the small cup, letting it knock back down onto the bar.

He smiled, a cruel twist of his humorless lips. "Fools bid early. Greater fools bid often. Both only serve to artificially inflate the cost of goods."

Led's bald head shifted green, the color flushing down the rotund face. Blue pupils reacted with equal ire. A moment passed then the Mesteric calmed enough for the grating voice to jab, "I just hope you find them worth their king's ransom the end!"

For an instant his want for violence was almost insurmountable. How dare Led question their worth, much less suggest that it was quantifiable. All this time he'd been exacting in his care to never think of it as worth, removing the discomfort the idea brought with replacements like 'transaction,' 'cost' and so many others impersonal in his paradoxically foolish attempt to not make what he was to them exactly what he'd become. Their master; buyer and owner. A second longer he wrestled with the urging desire to tell Led they'd have been worth the credits he'd spent over and again, stayed the hand longingly fondling his holstered weapon.

Instead Chris upped his smile and winked, standing slowly to glare with snapping ambers down at the alien. He wasn't going to bother with dignifying the damned prick's bating with a response. He slapped a nearly empty credit onto the counter, pointing at it with his chin. "For the drink." Chris narrowed his eyes then added, "And a little something for yourself." His tone couldn't be proven for condescending. They both knew he meant it to be. Larabee nodded once then turned away. "See you around, Led."

His answer was a grumbled assortment of mesterian curses.

*******

Ezra turned his body to shield Vin best he could. His shoulders cut across Vin's chest, his hand raised just enough to be ready.

It was time.

The low murmur of 'oh, those two?' and 'over here,' had broken the silence they'd been sharing. An aching, near hollow disquiet that neither could fill no matter how hard they tried.

Vin nudged him. "Don't do anything, Ez. Promise me. Nothing."

Ezra clenched his jaw. He didn't know it was a promise he could keep. Wasn't sure he could watch if Vin was led away; knew he wouldn't allow himself to be. Instead of promising he nodded curtly.

Vin nudged him again. "I mean it. If you get yourself killed 'cause of this I'm never forgiving you. Understand me?"

His eyes fluttered closed. Ezra forced them open again. He took in a long breath then said quietly, "I promise." He didn't look at Vin, knowing his last trace of defiance would be discerned, not wanting to lie to his lover but unable to feel anything else but this fight.

The lean form pressed to his lost a degree of tension, then hands were guiding him until he was once again sitting to look innocuous and compliant. He allowed himself to be placed, knew Vin was right despite his rage and fear.

Time droned on, seconds muddying until they seemed to stretch on and on. He was impatient to know what their fate would be - the whole of him screaming for this moment last forever lest it be their last.

Vin's hand pushed behind him and Ezra let it slip against him. Fingers massaged at the small of his back. He dared to look away from the door, smiling bravely at blue eyes that didn't for a second believe he wasn't afraid. Ezra blinked twice, the smile fading but the fierce greens didn't dim.

He wouldn't be defeated, no matter what. They wouldn't be defeated.

"Leave. I'll see to them."

The roughly barked order was familiar. Ezra sat up straighter. The hand at his back stilled, pressing into him. Breathless seconds passed.

The entryway shimmered blue then orange. The security field had been lowered. Not an instant later Captain appeared from around the corner, amber eyes blazing, face a mask set in determination.

Emotions clashed within Ezra.

Had the man come for them both? He'd feared for so long that his green eyes would curse them, that the added curiosity and value would steal him from Vin.

Would it indeed be he the man took, or would he have to endure watching Vin being sold away?

What should happen if he stood and fought? He'd known how to handle himself, was quite good at it in the before, but he knew the futility of trying. Even if he wanted to; even if he was willing to do such a thing to Vin.

Next came relief followed quickly by a spike of desire. Last came the worst feeling of all. One he'd been so desperate to know again.

Hope.

Captain came to stand in front of them, all of their knees brushing together. He swallowed then his eyes narrowed. Long fingers reached into an inner pocket to retrieve items Ezra instantly recognized.

It brought revulsion and hatred and fear to roil inside of him.

It was inexplicable comfort to see them in Captain's hands.

Vin's arm was indicated and the lean man lifted it. Captain caught the strong wrist, turning it so the paler underside of Vin's arm was revealed. The blue cylinder was pressed into his flesh, just below the heel of his hand. Captain pushed the button at the top of the cylinder and a short, almost nonexistent hiss broke the silence.

The same process was repeated on Ezra.

He couldn't help but grit his teeth at the feeling of having his condeed once again implanted. He didn't want to think further on why part of him thought it was right that it was Captain's ID that branded him now instead of anyone else's.

They regarded one another when it was finished, silence so thick it was deafening. Errant sounds from beyond penetrated, the noise of the port itself as it spun through space, the low hum of the multitudes that inhabited it, the rustle of Captain's long coat when finally he moved a step away.

Amber eyes raked them up and down then they softened a fraction. Captain tilted his head towards the door, his hand lifting as if under its own power, fingers unfolding to beckon they come.

Ezra stood. He had no choice to do otherwise, not really. Vin would be coming with him - that was enough for now.

When they were both up and ready Captain nodded once then spun on a heel. The man hadn't taken a step when he turned back around.

Ezra's brow rose; Vin stiffened next to him.

"Chris. Chris Larabee."

Amber eyes darted around then came back to land on them. The man's brow furrowed as if he wasn't certain where that had come from.

Ezra tested the name out in his mind, running over the syllables, enjoying knowing. Captain growled then twisted away so they hastened to follow.

It wasn't healthy to one's continued existence to become separated from one's owner. Straying brought pain. Too far meant death.

He looked over at Vin and managed a wink. Blue eyes warmed and for a moment they held one another's gaze. Then haunted, beloved eyes moved away.

They followed Chris Larabee to whatever was next.

*******

So, this was it. Their new home.

Vin grimaced at the choice of words. Not really home, this. But at least it wasn't a crowded spaceport bar, filled with an endless stream of customers, would-be customers, gawkers, fellow pros and ceaseless noise. That alone would make this coming year a respite. Vin forcibly stopped himself from thinking on what would happen when their condeeds were up for bidding again next year.

Face this day, this moment, get through this then move on. That was his goal.

Vin waited for Ezra to come even with him before stepping forward, wanting to defend his lover if need be, needing the contact. As they entered he surveyed. The ship was sleek, dangerous looking as her owner. They were in the rear of the craft, standing together at the back entry hatch, a few paces in from the landing where a set of metal steps had lowered for them to climb aboard. The area they were in now was a cargo hold of sorts. Three corridors branched off and away from them. Vin assumed the middle one led to command stations and other vital areas, the other two probably being for quarters and other nonessential rooms.

The middle corridor was filled with a knot of people.

The crew had assembled to meet them. It was unnerving - because Vin and Ezra were faced with meeting strangers in a place they felt like intruders within and because it didn't feel completely wrong being here, being with them.

Vin studied each man, his practiced eyes taking them in. He was surprised at their gazes - not a one held speculative interest as a customer. All simply regarded him with even, measuring stares, sizing him up while he did the same to them.

The tallest had a mustache. Blue eyes were open, almost friendly, looking encouraging and ready to help if need be. More was going on in the man that Vin couldn't begin to identify. He didn't bother with trying, just nodded briefly when a warm eye winked at him.

Tucked in next to the tall one was a kid younger than Vin, deep brown eyes readable and honest, kept from looking facile by an alert intelligence. When the brown eyes met his the kid smiled. Vin couldn't quite stop himself from smiling back.

He narrowed his eyes at the next person in the small cluster. A mix breed. Part Ss'tze, for certain. Vin couldn't help his mental scoff. So, Captain had other toys.

He turned to look at Ezra. A brow was raised over a green eye. Ezra was wondering the same. Then those green eyes narrowed, head tilting towards the little assembly. Vin thought it over. He wondered about the Ss'tze, allowed to be here, looking relaxed and confident among the others. It gave him reassurances he couldn't really define but was unwilling to discard.

The last was a large man. He appeared human but Vin wasn't sure. Something about the way he moved and held himself; the look behind crystal blue, near white eyes in a penetrating gaze. The man's broad face held the same bland friendliness as everyone else.

No one said anything. Vin supposed they were all waiting for Chris to speak. He had no idea what the man might say. Not like the blond knew their names; not like this was exactly a circumstance that required the protocol of formal introductions. But what wasn't said during the slightly awkward quiet was a relief too - no warnings of hands off, no blusterings of property to the crew and admonitions to he and Ezra that they know their place.

It seemed to Vin the men were used to cryptic silences from Chris. It's not like he'd experienced much different. They all stood, wordless yet with a mild acceptance that felt foreign to Vin. They were detached but not impersonal. No one had stepped up to check his or Ezra's teeth, nobody had yanked their pants down to eye their endowments.

It was an amazing thing. A normal way of being and greeting that Vin had almost forgotten. He didn't fool himself into thinking they didn't care that he and Ezra were criminals, bought as whores to boot. But at least Chris and the captain's team had all granted he and Ezra this reprieve, this dignity.

The coil of tension he'd been feeling loosen from Ezra as this first encounter stretched on told Vin it was the same for his lover.

Chris broke it up, stepping between them and the crew. The blond nodded, chin indicating the left branch corridor. "This way."

Vin nodded back then slipped a hand into Ezra's as they started walking, following Chris' lead. He kept their fingers tight together but neither man allowed the hands to swing nor did they stray far enough apart to bring attention to where they were joined. They were too used to the necessity of subterfuge and concealment for that.

Just before he turned away the kid threw a wave, the tall man next to him smiling. Both looked oddly sad and a lot uncertain but hopeful. Vin figured he had to have appeared the same to them.

No one spoke as they paced down the hall. Rooms were to their right and left, going where Vin didn't know. It wasn't a big ship but it was artfully planned, the simple lines appealing to his senses.

The trio came to a halt at then end of the corridor. Chris indicated a door with a raised hand, amber eyes waiting. He and Ezra nodded their 'understanding,' though nothing about this was known.

Would this be where they always stayed? Was this Chris' room as well? Would the rest of the crew come to visit them eventually?

Vin had the feeling he knew the answers. He couldn't say why, didn't want to hope he was right, but he couldn't deny the whispered this will be your room… only yours… only I will visit… that trickled through his brain.

Once inside they were led to the bed. Vin looked down at it then over to Ezra. He nodded, figuring he knew what was wanted next. He hooked his hands under the hem of his shirt then tugged it off. Rustling fabric told him Ezra was doing the same. When his fingers closed about his waistband, a hand touched his - fleeting yet so solidly there.

He looked up, brows knit in question.

Chris stared at them both, amber eyes uncertain but resolute. The blond head shook. "Sleep."

The word was spoken tersely. To Vin it sounded like an endearment.

Neither of them hesitated or even played at arguing. They were too exhausted to carry it out - too wanting of it to jeopardize it happening. Vin sunk onto the mattress and gathered Ezra close. He couldn't prevent his sigh, knowing it sounded relieved and grateful and perhaps even satisfied. He didn't care.

It was answered with a kiss graced against his temple, then Ezra was relaxing and he felt himself naturally follow. Chris stood at their side for a long while, then the shadow of a hand passed over the weak, bluish light and the room pitched black.

All was quiet then there was a bit of shuffling. He heard Chris moving about, heard the man sink into one of the two chairs in the room. Slowly the room took shape again, the spartan furniture managing to find highlights to reveal their shapes as his eyes adjusted. Vin closed his hand around Ezra's, smiled briefly when fingers answered to weave with his. He wondered what tomorrow meant. It was the first time he could remember in what seemed forever that he'd allowed himself a speculation on the future. Their future. One that now had the hint of potential that it wouldn't end as the bleak ruin he'd long ago resigned and resolved himself to enduring.

Vin watched through the tiny porthole as distant stars streaked by. He nuzzled closer to Ezra, reassured and comforted by the strong heartbeat at his ear; settled under the steady amber gaze.

End