Underground

Wow, this has ended up being a lot more involved then anticipated. And also, Bumstead! I love AUs.
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Simms tugged off my blindfold when we were a few blocks from my club, and I untied Daniel's, giving a soft smile in response to his questioning look. I thanked Simms and helped Daniel from the car as we stopped, keeping a hand on the small of his back protectively. I needed to go into work, to talk to my manager and the few of my staff who would be involved in the undertaking, but I didn't want to submit Daniel to that, not yet. There would be too many questions, and I wasn't prepared to explain them yet. I wasn't even sure if I could explain myself to Daniel.

Instead I hailed a cab.

"This is my club," I told him, keeping close to him as I watched the cabbie pull up to the curb. "I'll bring you back once you're settled in, if you like."

"Settled in?" He looked up at me in confusion. "John, I don't understand... what's going on? He said I was going home with you...."

"I asked for you," I said softly, stepping forward to open the cab door for him. "It's part of the deal I set up with him tonight. You won't be going back." I shut the door behind him and got in the other side, giving the address of my apartment to the driver. Daniel was watching me with wide eyes, and I gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry I didn't ask you first, I just wanted to get you out of there. I have the means to set you up wherever you like, or send you back to find your family. But if you'd like to stay here, you're welcome to stay with me. I'll take care of you."

Daniel nodded slowly, seeming almost overwhelmed. "I think that would be best," he said slowly. "I'll stay with you. John... thank you."

Something about his thanks and the open vulnerability in his manner made me feel almost shy, and I found his hand again, squeezing it gently. "My apartment isn't far. We can talk more there."

He nodded again, watching out the windows of the cab almost incredulously as we drove through the streets and stopped in front of my building. How long had it been since he'd been in the outside world like this? I paid the driver and helped Daniel out, keeping my hand on the small of his back, which seemed to ground him a little.

"There isn't much we can do tonight, I'm afraid," I told him, speaking softly as we took the elevator to my floor. "I have an extra toothbrush and a razor and such for you, we can go shopping for anything else in the morning. Will that be all right?"

I had the penthouse suite in the building, which was was large and upscale enough to support my front as a wealthy club owner involved in questionable dealings. I loved the vaulted ceilings and the huge bay windows, the small rooftop patio and swimming pools, and thought, a little ironically, that I would have never been able to afford the place on a cop's salary. I glanced around with a soft sigh. "I'm sorry about the clutter. I have a cleaning service in once a week, but...."

"It's all right," Daniel replied softly, giving me a smile as I glanced over at him. "I'll clean for you."

I frowned. "You're a guest. You will do no such thing."

"A guest?" He looked almost upset at that. "John, you purchased me. I won't take advantage of your good nature by pretending otherwise."

"And if I want you to pretend otherwise?" I turned to face him, resting a hand on each shoulder. "Daniel. I didn't bring you here to serve me. I won't put any of those demands on you here."

"Then why did you bring me here?"

I glanced down, my thumb stroking slow circles on his shoulder. "I like you," I said softly. "I didn't want him to hurt you anymore."

Daniel's fingers touched my jaw tentatively, guiding my gaze to his, searching it. "You really mean that... don't you?"

"Of course I do." I gave into the urge to press my lips to his forehead, but if anything he only grew more tense. "I realize that Hand likely expects you to spy on me," I tried to reassure him, stroking my fingers up into his hair. "You can tell him whatever you wish, though I recommend the truth. Tell him that I am completely enamoured of you."

"Are you?"

I slipped an arm around his waist, nuzzling his hair. "Yes."

Daniel shuddered against me, then pulled away without warning. "You shouldn't be. John, I - I've lied to you."

"Lied? Daniel, listen. I don't care if he's asked you to spy, he would be stupid not to take advantage of my interest in you - "

"It's not that." He cut me off, agony in blue eyes. "This was planned from the start, John. He told me that he would somehow arrange for you to ask for me. He told me to seduce you, to play on your sympathy so that you'd ask for me as payment. He told me to get close to you so that I could report back to him. I'm sorry, John."

His words were like an icy chill down my spine, but I kept it from my expression, watching him calmly as he spoke. "Then why are you telling me this?"

Daniel gave a soft laugh that sounded almost more like a sob. "I didn't expect that you would be kind. I thought you'd be like all the others. I didn't expect to like you. I know I can't ask you to believe anything that I say at this point, but it's true."

"So what happens if you don't report back to him?"

He glanced back to me, helpless. "He'll find me and take me from you, and the scar on my eyelid will seem like nothing when he is done with me."

I stared at him for a long minute, feeling my lips part. "He did that. Hand scarred you? He said it was a client - "

"No. He sold me to a business partner to spy on him, much like he has to you. The man betrayed him, and I hadn't known to warn him. Hand killed him and did this to me, made me undesirable to take away what little influence I had in his world. My punishment for failure." Daniel let out a shuddering sigh, folding his arms across his chest, fingers digging into his own biceps. "I didn't have to lie to you to play on your sympathies, John. He is as horrible as you believe, and I fear him more than anything else in the world."

"Then we'll find something for you to report," I mused, thinking more on the idea. Perhaps it could be a help instead of a hindrance. Perhaps I could feed him misinformation of some kind. "I'll make you privy to things that I don't mind being passed on to him. I won't let him hurt you again."

"You'd protect me from him? Even though I lied to you?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

Daniel seemed so lost, so alone, and I had to fight the urge to pull him into my arms. This was just a job for him. He didn't truly want me, and I wouldn't take advantage of him. "I told you," I said softly, "I like you. For the first time since I got into this business I feel something for someone that isn't based on how much money they can make for me. So regardless of how you feel, I'll protect you like I promised."

"You shouldn't," he muttered, and I reached out to touch his arm gently, feeling him shiver under my touch.

"Daniel. Let me decide what I should and shouldn't do, yes? For now, you are my guest. I need to go back to the club and take care of some things, follow up on the deal. Will you be all right here on your own?"

He gave a little nod, wetting his lips and looking up at me. "Is there anything I can do for you while you're gone?"

"You can relax," I replied, trying to reassure him with a smile. "Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. If you get tired, the guest room is down the hall and to the right. Feel free to use the shower or go for a swim outside if you like... or use the television or read. Anything you like."

"Thank you," he said again, and gave me a brave smile.

I changed my clothes quickly, locking the door to my study, and headed out. The first order of business was to use the pay telephone on the bottom floor of my apartment building, which was located in a small booth out of the way. It was one of the reasons why I'd been set up in this apartment building, and while I didn't make a habit of using any one specific phone on a regular basis, it was very convenient at times like this. The number I dialled was an answering machine, and I left a short, coded message - first to report on the results of the meeting, and the second to request a meeting with my contact for the following day, in one of the three places we normally met. To anyone listening in, it was simply a grocery list, one of several codes my contact and I had worked out.

Hanging up the phone, I caught a cab back to my club, knocking at the staff entrance and giving a nod to the security guard who opened the door for me. "Evening, Stephans. Is Ray still here?"

"You know he wouldn't leave before close, Mr. Murdoch," the guard replied with a smile. "Check your office."

"Thank you. If Peterson or Fowler head your way before I see them, send them up to my office, will you?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Murdoch."

"Good man." I patted his shoulder and disappeared up into the club. Apart from the wait staff and the bands that played I was very choosy about my employees, and made sure they got kickbacks under the table from any payouts the clubs took in related to any questionable business that happened here. Only three were privy to where I had been tonight - my head of security, my general manager, and my head bartender. I met with them now in my office on the second floor of the club, outlining what had happened - minus Daniel - and the arrangements that had been made with Hand.

"I'll be the only one with direct contact with The Hand," I told them, sitting at the head of the small conference table. "I'll be the only one officially collaborating with these people, handling the books and the money exchanges. If we're raided, you'll have plausible deniability, the same as the rest of the staff. But you'll be dealing with the meeting requests and security. Ray, I need one of our meeting rooms left open at all times for their use, and they will have priority in booking the others. We'll set up a code with the servers and front of house, and anyone using it will be referred directly to you. Fowler, I want you to be the only one going in and out of those rooms, they need priority service. Peterson, it's likely they'll have some security requests, so make sure there's at least one bouncer on staff every night that will do the job without question."

"Big and stupid," he noted, and gave me a grin. "You got it, boss."

"Thank you." I leaned back in my chair, feeling a little buzzed on the adrenaline of actually doing this, actually setting this up. "Keep your eyes and ears open for me, gentlemen. If anyone is doing anything behind our backs, I want to know about it, pronto. Especially if there's any rumours - any at all - of The Hand making an appearance. Understood?"

They voiced agreement, and I dismissed them, keeping Fowler back as the other two disappeared out into the the club. I locked the door behind them, turning back to him. "There's one more thing I need to ask you about, of a more personal nature. It needs to be kept quiet. Can you do that for me?"

Greg Fowler wasn't much older than I, but he'd been in the city and on the fringes of the black market for a long time. When I'd come into the city undercover and bought the club three years ago, I'd hired him as my head bartender and never regretted it. "Anything you need, Mr. Murdoch. You know that."

"Thank you." I paused, and drew a deep breath. "I need an opium set. A pipe, lamp, and so forth. It's a gift," I explained to his quirked eyebrow, and he shrugged.

"None of my business what you do with it, sir. Will you be needing a reliable source of the opiates as well?"

"Not yet," I replied, "Though I would appreciate it if you could find out for me the safest and most reliable way to detox, and anything I need for that."

"I'll have it for you tomorrow," he said with a wink, and I thanked him, following him out of my office.

The best thing about being a club owner, I'd discovered, was that it gave me the illusion of being busy without actually putting much on my plate. Ray took care of most of the administrative duties for me, leaving me time to do my real job, slowly worming my way deeper into my cover. I met with a few contacts that night, had a few drinks, and delivered a few unmarked parcels that had been safely locked away in a back room. As soon as I could escape I took my leave, about an hour before last call, trusting my staff to take care of the handful of private gatherings that were taking place after the club closed.

When I returned home the apartment was dark and quiet, but tidy. The kitchen was spotless, and my laundry was sorted into bags and ready for pickup. I gave a soft chuckle under my breath and shook my head. He was resourceful at least, I had to give him that.

I didn't bother with the lights, knowing my way through the apartment in the dim light from the moon outside and the tiny night light plugged into the wall just inside the door in my bedroom. I stripped off my clothes by touch, leaving them over the back of my chair. I was exhausted from everything that had gone on that evening and wanted little more than to sleep until noon. It wasn't until I was drawing back my comforter, dressed in nothing but my undershorts that I suddenly realized that not only was there someone in my bed, but that he was completely naked, blinking up at me sleepily in the darkness. "Daniel."

"Welcome home, John," he said softly, making no room to move. "How was your night?"

"It was fine," I said distractedly, staring at the play of the dim light on his bare skin, suddenly very much awake. "Daniel... what are you doing here?"

"Warming your bed," Daniel's reply was calm. He moved, fluid and languid as he got to his feet. I couldn't move, couldn't pull away when he stepped close to me, his fingers stroking slowly up my bare chest to rest on my shoulders as he leaned in to press his lips to mine, warm and inviting. I returned the kiss with a low groan before I could stop myself, stroking my hands hungrily over his hips as his lips parted to mine. The feel of his skin under my hands, the scent of his hair was so familiar to me after our earlier activities that my body responded instinctively, pulling him closer as I tasted him, wanting to claim every part of him, erase the touch of anyone who had hurt him before.

But that included me.

I broke away, drawing a deep breath and trying to force my racing pulse to slow, force myself to start thinking with my head instead of my cock. "Thank you," I managed to say. "Please feel free to return to the guest room."

Daniel's lips parted, looking up at me in what almost seemed like hurt before finally speaking. "John, what are you talking about?"

"I told you. I didn't bring you here to serve me, Daniel. I don't want this."

"You do want this," he replied, stepping close again, stroking his hands slowly up my biceps to rest on my shoulders. "You want this, and so do I. Come to bed with me."

"I won't take advantage of you. You're my guest, not a slave."

"John," he said softly, hands not moving from my shoulders, "I - please, let me do this. This is what I am."

"Not anymore," I said softly, catching his hands in mine as I stepped back. I lifted one to my lips to kiss the back of his fingers, trying to ignore the hurt in his eyes. "Get some sleep, all right?"

"I - I'm not trying to manipulate you...."

"I know." I let go of his hands and stepped back, taking a button down shirt out of my closet and helping him into it. Then I pressed my lips to his temple with a soft sigh, trying to tell myself that I didn't want him as badly as I did. I spotted his glasses on my bedside table and handed them to him. "Get some rest, Daniel. Please."

"All right," he whispered finally, head lowered as he turned from me and left the room.

I closed the door behind him and let my head fall against it with a soft thud. What had I gotten myself into? My body ached for him, and it took every ounce of willpower not to follow him and give him exactly what he'd asked for. But I couldn't give in. I couldn't be like those other men.

The idea of sleeping was a laugh, so I had a cigarette to settle my nerves, then slipped out of my shorts and took a shower. With the steaming water pounding against my back it was even harder to push away my desire for him. Finally I leaned back against the shower wall and closed my eyes, stroking myself helplessly as my mind replayed the events of the afternoon. I couldn't forget his kisses, the feel of being inside him, the memory of his slender form straddling my lap. When I brought myself to climax it quieted the physical ache, but it didn't stop the emotional longing to be close to him, to hold him tight and love him and protect him. My bed retained traces of his body heat and his scent, and when I fell asleep it was only to dream of him, of everything I wanted and couldn't have.

~~~~

Blessedly, I managed to sleep until a little before noon, even if my dreams were filled with restless images of the day before. I showered and dressed, leaving my room to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. I found Daniel curled up in a chair in my living room with a cup of tea, reading the morning paper. I seemed to startle him as I entered, and he folded the paper and stood quickly. "John. Good morning. I'm sorry, I borrowed your paper...."

God, he was adorable when he was flustered. "You're welcome to it. I don't read it as much as I should. You enjoy it?"

"It was one of the few things we were allowed. He wanted us well versed in current events. Enough to be a decent conversationalist." He gave a soft smile. "I'm sorry, I was uncertain as to what to cook for you, but I've brewed coffee...."

"You cook?"

Daniel looked faintly embarrassed. "The man who owned me before had a personal chef who let me learn a little. I can make something now?"

He seemed a little on edge, and so eager to please that I was sorry to turn him down. "I have a breakfast meeting that I have to leave for - well, I suppose it's a lunch meeting if you're hung up on specifics. But the coffee smells wonderful, thank you." He followed me hesitantly into the kitchen, watching me as I poured a cup, sipping it black. "Have you eaten, Daniel?"

"Toast. Thank you. I don't eat usually eat breakfast."

I stepped towards him, setting my coffee cup down on the counter and meeting his gaze seriously. "And the drug?"

Daniel flushed and glanced away. "I'm all right. He gave me a little. I can ingest it, it should keep the edge off for a day or two. After that it may be a little... difficult."

"I have more," I said softly, and watched him close his eyes for a moment in what seemed almost like relief, letting out a shuddering sigh. "I'll have a pipe for you by the end of the day, as well as the stuff for detox, if you'd like."

"Thank you," he whispered, still not looking up, and I reached out to touch his shoulder gently.

"I told you that I'd take care of you," I said, squeezing his shoulder. "I meant that. Anything you need, Daniel. Just ask."

"And what can I do for you?" Daniel's voice was small and helpless, and I gave into the urge to hold him, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my lips to his hair.

"You can be my guest. You can be safe," I murmured, feeling him shiver against me. "I'm sorry about last night, Daniel. I didn't mean to be cruel."

He gave his head a little shake. "No, I - I shouldn't have assumed. I'm sorry for overstepping my bounds."

"It's fine. Really." I forced myself to pull back, sipping my coffee. "I shouldn't be long at lunch. Can I take you out afterwards? Have you to be fitted for some clothes?"

"I don't need anything nice...."

"Of course you do," I replied, giving him a teasing smile. "How would it look if I dressed my guest in bargain bin suits? I do have a reputation to maintain. So it's nice clothes or nothing at all."

Daniel gave a very soft laugh at that, just as beautiful as it has been the day before. "I can arrange for nothing, if you like." His smile was teasing, and I couldn't help but grin, despite trying to push back the very nice mental images of Daniel beautifully naked.

"Hey - no. I have a lunch meeting, and if you keep talking about that I'm going to be very distracted."

"My apologies," he replied, his eyes bright with merriment betraying that he meant nothing of the sort.

I finished my coffee and indulged in a light kiss to his forehead before grabbing my coat and heading out. Despite the helplessness I'd felt the night before... maybe everything was going to work out all right.

~~~~

Frank Bumstead was what the underworld called a dirty cop - he took bribes, he leaked information, he conveniently looked the other way. Except in all actuality, he wasn't dirty at all. Bumstead's reputation had been painstakingly cultivated through rumours and carefully planned dealings with the underground world of organized crime over the past five years. He was in it for the same reason I was, currently - to take down the human trafficking ring. Before that, he'd had a quiet hand in taking down several large drug dealers, though to the underworld, he was completely on their side. Bumstead's knowledge and contacts were what had allowed me to work my way undercover over the past three years, and he made the perfect contact - no one would look twice at a club owner meeting with a dirty cop to pay him off once or twice in a month.

I slipped into the booth at the back of the small diner, ordering a hearty breakfast for myself and Bumstead's customary club sandwich. I sipped at a second cup of coffee while I waited, which was rather disgusting, but the heat and caffeine cleared my head. When Bumstead arrived he greeted me only with a silent wave, hanging his trench coat and fedora on the hooks at the edge of the booth. Then he set his briefcase on the bench beside him and taking out a wand that was attached to a spiralled cord. He quietly passed the surveillance detector over the banquet seats and the table, then over the length of my body before tucking it away with a satisfied nod. "How are things going for you, Murdoch?"

I gave a little shrug, thanking the waitress with a smile as our food arrived. "Things are to be as expected. How about you, Frank? How's the missus?"

Bumstead chuckled softly, laugh lines at the corners of his gray eyes crinkling. I'd found out about his relationship quite by accident, something that he worked very hard to keep quiet at the precinct, and I enjoyed teasing him about it more than I should. He was a fairly handsome gentleman after all, and even if he was a little older than I preferred there was never anything wrong with a little harmless flirting. "He's fine. You wanna tell me why you needed to talk to me?"

I poured a healthy dose of syrup over the waffles and sausages on my plate, taking a large bite and chewing. I was famished, and always found it less suspicious not to rush lunch with a friend. "Well," I said finally, washing the bite of waffle down with coffee, "things last night went as we'd hoped for. I'm not sure how it will work in practice, but when things have been running fairly smoothly for a couple of weeks we can come up with a plan."

"Mmm." He munched on the club sandwich, watching me. "If you just wanted a pat on the back, there's safer ways to do it."

"I wish that was it." I speared a piece of sausage with my fork, swirling it idly through the drops of syrup that slid across my plate. "I seem to have a little bit of a... situation."

"A situation." He raised an eyebrow. "I don't like to hear those words, Murdoch. 'Situation' usually means 'problem', and you know as well as I do that neither of us can afford that right now."

"It might be a problem," I admitted, "or it could be an asset, depending on whether or not we can play it right." I took another bite, watching him set down his sandwich, leaning closer to me.

"Stop playing games with me, Murdoch. Tell me what the hell is going on here."

I took a deep breath. "I have one of his spies in my apartment right now. Living with me."

"You what? What is she, a whore?"

"He," I replied with a little smirk, setting my fork down. "And yeah, something like that."

Bumstead gave another soft chuckle. "Mm, he knows you well."

"Apparently." The waffle was almost too sweet, saturated in pancake syrup, but I took another bite anyway. "My guest told me himself that he'd been asked to spy on me."

"I hope you'd already figured it out before he told you. You want me to arrange to have him picked up for something?"

"No." My reply came a little too quick even to my ears, and I tried to cover it with a sip of coffee. "No, it'll make him too suspicious. Besides, I think we can use this to our advantage. I can control the information my guest has access to. With a bit of careful planning and preparation, we can feed him only the information that we want passed on. Even false information."

"Hmm." Bumstead finished the first half of his sandwich silently, but I could see the wheels turning. "You know... lets say we give you some kind of... partnership with someone. Some kind of shady business dealing, something that brings in a good amount of cash. We cook you a new set of books for the past three months, adjust the history of a couple of your shill accounts. Something that will take his attention away from anything else that you're doing. You think you can arrange to leak it without being too obvious?"

"Yeah. I'll figure something out." Truthfully I'd had a similar idea myself, but I lacked the resources to carry it out on my own. "Thanks, Frank."

He nodded. "I'll get fraud and embezzlement working on it right away. There's just one thing that puzzles me, Murdoch... why would this man tell you that he'd been sent to spy on you? It doesn't make any sense."

I swallowed the rest of my sausage and egg, abandoning the remains of the sticky waffle. "Two reasons I can think of. I think he's a lot more intelligent than he lets on, and it could be a play to manipulate me. Make me trust him, open up to him about what I'm doing. He's been very open about hating his master, and from what he says he has a lot of reasons to. So he could easily be playing on my sympathy to get me to open up. Or... he might not be manipulating me at all. It might be real, in which case... he could be a valuable asset."

"You seriously think that he's anything more than a plant? Come on, Murdoch. You're smarter than that."

"I know. But the thing is, Frank... I asked for him. As part of the deal last night. Him specifically."

Bumstead sat back against the bench with a low groan, running his fingers through salt and pepper hair. "Oh lord." He looked up at me and sighed. "Don't tell me. You have feelings for this man, don't you?"

I glanced away before he could see the truth in my eyes. "It's just a job, Frank."

"Don't give me that bull." He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Look. You know that I understand more than anyone else the messed up things that feelings can make you do. I'm not going to tell you something stupid like not to fall in love. Shit happens, especially in your line of work. But John... no matter how you feel, no matter how much you think you can trust him and how pretty those eyes are when he looks at you or how horrible you feel about lying to him... don't break. I don't want to be fishing you out of the canal with a new pair of cement boots."

"I know," I said again. "I'll be careful. Just... can you do something for me, Frank? Promise me something?"

"Depends on what it is."

I stared down at the remains of the coffee in my cup. "If something happens to me... take care of him for me. Don't let Hand get him back."

"This honey have a name?"

I smiled just thinking about him. "Daniel. Sweet little blond with big blue eyes. Figure he's about... twenty-three, twenty-four. Scar on his right eye. Says He gave it to him...."

"Jesus, you're a mess." The words were fond, though, and he shook his head. "If this was a broad he'd fit the stereotype to a t. T for trouble, that is. Try to be careful, okay?

I gave a soft snort and finished the coffee, setting it down before pulling a few bills from my wallet to pay and leaving them on the table, along with a fat envelope from the inside of my coat. It contained only scrap paper, but anyone watching from a distance would assume it was a payoff. "Thanks, Frank. I'll catch you around."

Daniel had moved on to my bookcase by the time I returned home, and was curled in the same armchair with a novel called 'I, the Jury' that I'd bought for show more than interest... like most of the books on my book case, actually. He set it aside as soon as he saw me, standing. "John. Welcome back."

I stood in the doorway of my living room for a moment just to look at him, trying to apply everything Bumstead had said. I knew it wasn't the wisest decision I'd ever made to bring Daniel here, and I knew Bumstead understood that Daniel had gotten to me more than I was letting on. He did understand the pressures of loving someone he definitely shouldn't, though in his case it was his subordinate and not a potential agent of the enemy. But it was hard to see Daniel as anything other than the victim. I smiled, handing him the paper bag I'd gotten from the diner which contained a carefully wrapped chicken salad sandwich. "Have a bite while I change, and then we can head out."

He flushed and glanced away. "I'm fine, I'm not hungry...."

"Eat," I said, setting the bag down on the coffee table. "You're a guest, guests get fed. I'm not having you starve on my watch."

Daniel gave a little rueful smile and picked up the bag. "All right. Thank you."

I had to admit that it was more than enjoyable, going shopping with Daniel. We picked up the necessities - toiletries, undergarments and so forth - and then I took him to my tailor of choice. I was a regular enough customer that they set to making alterations to an off the rack suit immediately while they measured him for five others that I ordered - along with one for myself, since we were there - and left laden with the newly altered suit, button down shirts, ties, suspenders, and a couple of pairs of casual slacks.

Daniel had been quiet for most of the session, leaving me to converse with the tailor, but caught my elbow as we left the store. "John... this is too much."

"The clothes?" Truthfully, I had gone a little bit overboard, choosing fabrics that I knew would look expensive on him. But I had the money thanks to the business, and as dirty as some of it was, I was authorized to make any purchases that were needful to sustain my cover. Daniel, I rationalized, was part of that. "Not at all. If I take you out, I want my companion to look as good as he's worth."

He glanced away uncomfortably. "You don't want me on your arm, John."

"Why not? I can't think of anyone I'd rather have on my arm."

"Why not?" Daniel stopped in front of a shop and turned, looking up at me. "One, I'm ugly. Two, I'm a whore."

I frowned. "You're not ugly, no matter what he did to you. I don't want to hear any more of that, Daniel. You're beautiful. As for the second, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. All of the women around me are whores. Women who hook up with men like me do it for money, for flashy diamonds and beautiful dresses. They do it for the glamorous lifestyle, because it's the only way for women like them to be part of high society. Unlike you, they had a choice in the matter." I shifted my bags to one hand, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "You'll see. And then men treat them like fashion accessories."

"But I'm not the kind of accessory that you should be seen with. If one of my clients sees us - "

"Then they'll know that I'm a very lucky man." I reached up to cup his cheek gently, feeling him shiver under my touch. "Just trust me, all right? Let me take care of you."

Daniel sighed, leaning into my touch just a little. "If it makes you happy, John...."

"It does," I replied, pulling away a little regretfully, placing my hand on the small of his back to turn him. "Come on. We need shoes, and then we'll head home. We can change and freshen up, and then go to dinner."

When we were done I piled him and all the purchases into a cab. I instructed the cabby to stop in front of my club, asking him to wait while I made a pickup. I glanced to Daniel. "You can wait here for me if you like, or you can come with me. I won't be long."

He hesitated, lips parting slightly. "Can I stay with you?"

"Of course." I helped him from the cab and took him around to the back entrance, which was the only one manned at this time of day. Peterson's second waved us through without comment, and I took him in through my club, which was generally empty at this time of day apart from the cleaning staff and a few of the wait staff, who were polishing glassware at the two main bars.

I found Fowler counting stock behind the bar. He grinned when he saw me, leaning on the bar top. "Afternoon, boss. Who's your friend?"

I realized with a start that Daniel had never given me his last name. He'd leaned across the bar and offered his hand before I could react. "Daniel Schreber. Pleased to make your acquaintance, mister...

"Greg Fowler."

"Daniel's a friend of the family," I said, knowing that he'd assume that I meant it in reference to organized crime as well as personal background. "Daniel, Mr. Fowler here is my head bartender. I'd be completely lost without him."

Fowler shrugged, grinning. "He exaggerates. What do you do, Mr. Schreber?"

"I'm a bookkeeper." Daniel spoke again before I could, and I fought to keep from showing my surprise.

"Really?" Fowler's grin widened at that. "I don't suppose you're planning on sticking around? I've been telling the boss to bring on an accountant for months, you can't imagine how much our general manager bitches about juggling the numbers."

"Perhaps he will," I said slowly, my mind already racing with the possibility. I was already used to double checking the books myself - numbers were certainly not Ray's strong suite - and it would save me the trouble of figuring out how to make Daniel look at the books without seeming obvious about it. "Did you have a chance to look into that thing that I asked you for yesterday? I need to deliver it."

"Sure thing, boss." He disappeared behind the bar, reappearing with a large box wrapped in paper and a paper bag that was stapled shut. "The set's a nice one, it's an import. Should impress. The bag has everything else you asked for including written instructions, minus the bananas."

I stared at him. "Bananas?"

He shrugged. "Hey, don't ask me, I've never had to come down off opiates." I watched Daniel stiffen out of the corner of my eye, but Fowler didn't seem to notice and continued talking. "Now, if you decide you want to give a little something along with that pipe, or if the recip needs a reliable source, you let me know, boss."

"I will. Thanks. Stop by my office tonight and I'll get you some cash for that."

"No rush." He grinned. "You gents take care."

I caught up the bag and tucked the box under my arm, heading back outside with Daniel. He didn't say anything, and when we got in the car he wouldn't meet my gaze. I took the parcels into his room, but set the box with the pipe and the bag on the counter in my kitchen before finally breaking the silence. "Tell me about being a bookkeeper."

Daniel had been waiting uncertainly in the hallway, but joined me in the kitchen when I spoke. He managed a small smile "I'm sorry, John. It has been been a while. I kept the books for my father. I'm not certain I can help you."

"Well, lets give it a trail run. I don't think you can be any worse than Ray, I have to check over his work anyway. I'll get you on payroll and we'll see how things go."

He stared at me. "... payroll."

"Labour laws are one thing I do not break."

"But...."

"Daniel." I reached out to take his hand in both of mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Would you like to work for me?"

Daniel gave a soft, shivering sigh. "I don't... I don't want to make more work for you. I know you're just trying to make me feel useful."

"Maybe," I admitted, and gave a little shrug. "But it would make my general manager stop bitching, and that is something that I'd really appreciate."

He pulled his hand from mine, turning to lean back against the counter. "I'm sorry, John, I just... this is a lot for me to take in all at once. You treat me like I'm just like everyone else...."

"Because you are."

"But I don't feel that way." He looked up at me helplessly. "I'll do anything you ask me to, John. Just... don't treat me like something I'm not."

I sighed, feeling about as helpless as he looked. "I'm sorry. Look... lets just take things one day at a time. If you don't want to go out tonight, I can have something brought in. I need to spend a bit of time at the club, but... other than that I'll be here with you." I stared at the box that was still wrapped on the counter, then took the package hand had given me out of the inside pocket of my jacket, setting it on top of the box without looking at him. "If you need more... let me know. If you decide you want to get off of it, well... just tell me." I touched his shoulder gently, then left it with him. I took care of some paperwork in my study, and when I came out some time later to call for food, the box and the opium had disappeared, though the bag remained. I tucked it away in a cupboard with a soft sigh, wondering what on earth I'd gotten myself into.

~~~TBC~~~