Date: Sun, 07 Mar 2004 18:30:25 +0800
From: paul sung <psun@hotmail.com>
Subject: Shanghai 2

DISCLAIMER
==========

This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is
entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights
(copyright (c) 2004 - psun@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not
copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this
disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males:

- if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON,
- if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON,
- if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.

And any comments - brickbats or bouquets, send them over to
psun@hotmail.com And if you find that you like what you're reading, visit
my page at http://www.geocities.com/savante_2002


Lieutenant Adam Li was nothing if not thorough in his examination as he
slowly, exactingly went through every minute of that day. After
ponderously going through with the detective what he'd said earlier in
the initial interview, Quinn finally relented and agreed to show him the
family's prized collection of daggers. It had been in the family for
generations, started by the redoubtable Lady Jasmine Post and had been
added on by the succeeding genertaions. It not only housed daggers and
weapons from various Asian countries but also priceless instruments of
death from other cultures as well. The Post family had always been
fascinated with death, it seems.

Slightly overawed by the collection, Adam ran his fingers lightly over
the glass casing and Quinn wished the cop would do the same on him. "You
have quite an extensive collection of daggers."

Adam's enthusiasm was palpable and Quinn had to smile at his enthusiasm -
certainly understandable with his martial arts background and I wondered
just what he could do with one of those elegant blades in his hands. The
dangerous looking, two-handed sword he was looking at would suit those
hands, strong, capable hands. Thoughts of what else his hands could do
prompted him to add enthusiastically. "If you like this, Lieutenant, you
should really see my etchings."

"My God." The cliched expression finally had the detective laughing as he
turned to Quinn with a twinkle of amusement in his serious dark eyes.
"You really are impossible."

Funny what brings a man to his downfall but the sound of that laugh
easily brought Quinn to his knees. Deep, resonant, almost hypnotic. It
almost had Quinn falling to his knees with a ring in hand. Almost. "Glad
to see you have a funny bone somewhere in that starched-up suit."

"Mr Post, this is a murder investigation .."

"Yes, as you keep reminding me." Quinn sighed quietly as he watched Adam
return to the cool cop persona. Hoping to distract him from whatever he
was thinking, Quinn drew him back to the collection and started his
spiel. "Everyone in the family has a dagger. Since my great-great
grandfather escaped an assassin's knife with his own years back, we've
all been given a dagger on our 12th birthday. Dangerous times, I should
think, and the Posts have always had their enemies. Although it doesn't
serve its purpose anymore as a source of protection, the ritual has
become quite the tradition in my family."

Drawing his attention to a particular case, Quinn's smile slowly faded as
he recognized his own. Usually it brought a smile to his face but this
time, it would always be tainted by the memory of that slim blade
embedded deep into his uncle's chest. "Since I had a love for family lore
and antiques obviously, my grandfather gave me the daggers that belonged
to the first Lady Post. Elegant twin pearl-handled daggers, one of them
that you see here and you already know what's happened to the other."

Lieutenant Li bent over the case, studying the blade. "So logically,
you'd be the first suspect?"

"Yes, I believe so." Quinn gripped the edge of the table hard, his face
hardening. It was difficult enough to imagine the thought that one of his
own cousins had tried to implicate him in his uncle's death. Or at least
meant for it to be a sign of some sort. But what? He had been brought up
together with Makoto and Ai Ling, almost side by side. And although we
had moved apart geographically, Quinn had always believed that he still
maintained a close bond with the rest of his cousins. The thought that
someone in the family had meant for this to hurt him in some way was
chilling. "It is hard for me to believe something like that, Lieutenant.
Hard to believe that someone in my family could be involved in this.
Although I admit we don't see each other as often as we should, I've
always believed that we maintained a close bond with each other."

Whatever his thoughts on the subject, the detective maintained his
silence. Instead of lingering over the dagger he had mentioned as
expected, Adam moved on to the next exhibit, a singularly menacing
looking blade with a scowling demon-head for a handle. "These daggers for
a 12 year old?" Adam frowned in disapproval.

The inflection of horror in his voice was enough to make Quinn smile
again. "Barbaric, I know. But then again the Post family loves
tradition." he shrugged easily. "Each dagger is unique to the owner,
almost like a signature sign. Like Makoto's dagger was made as a replica
of his Japanese grandfather's samurai sword. I believe he uses it as a
letter opener in his office."

"Letter opener?" The detective's voice shook as he shot a quick,
surprised glance back at Quinn.

There was a laugh in the detective's eye again and Quinn added with a
pleased grin. "Quite useful. For the occasional old-fashioned mail.
Another tradition in our family."

"And is murder also a tradition in your family?"

It was a question that he'd asked of himself since the death less than a
week ago and he didn't quite like the answers that he received.
Activating the code for the case, Quinn lifted the cover and slid the
blade out of its delicately carved stand. "Yes. I believe the first Post
dispatched quite a few ruffians in his time. And since my great-great
grandfather survived that knife, I assume the assassin didn't survive for
long. No one has been involved in any such crime recently however." It
was a hope that Quinn carried but he couldn't be sure. In the next few
weeks, he would no doubt be slowly drawn into the quagmire of family life
- and the heavy responsibility of the company that came with it. His
far-flung relatives from all four corners of the globe - and even those
from off-planet would return for the reading of the will and then he
would face his enemy.

But the time for that would come and Quinton Post was a man who knew how
to enjoy the present. A tall, cool drink of water was standing in front
of him and something told him that the upright young Lieutenant Li would
be quite a distraction. Turning to the handsome detective, he flashed a
devious smile. "But that's not the only tradition that we hold dear."

"No?" Disrupted from his rapt study of the blade, Adam looked up in
surprise.

"Oddly enough, the men in the Post family have always had a predilection
for those from the Fuzhou region. Where did you say you're from,
Lieutenant Li?"

"I never said."

Although the detective turned away, the colour staining his high
cheekbones betrayed him and Quinn smiled to himself. No doubt Lady
Jasmine Post would be pleased to have one of her own kin back in the
family.

"I think that's enough for now, Mr Post - I mean, Quinn," Adam corrected
himself as he excused himself. His face was perfectly grave but the
slight tremor in his measured tone revealed his feelings. "I hope you
will remain in contact.."

Faced with personal questions, the man couldn't find his escape soon
enough and Quinn grinned. "No worries about that. You won't be losing
sight of me anytime soon, Lieutenant."

Adam's face flushed and he turned to walk away. The flush colouring his
cheekbones only made him all the more intriguing to Quinn. This was a man
reputed to be able to use anything - even a blunt-edged pencil as a
killing weapon. This was a man who leapt from the second floor to face
down a gang of musclebound thugs in the seamy streets of Shanghai armed
only with his bare fists. And yet Mr All-around Resourceful Tough Guy
blushed when Quinn made an innuendo.

As Adam turned to leave, Quinn reached for him and placed a hand on his
broad shoulder. The man made no reply, only turning his head to look at
Quinn. If Quinn had earlier imagined him cold and emotionless, his doubts
were laid to rest forever. Those dark eyes were hot with so much lust and
emotion that it almost knocked him back on his feet.

Quinn's pulse speeded up. "Lieutenant.."

"Master Quinn." The one constant in his life was Cheng, the tall, slim
butler his father had hired years back. Since he was a small child
romping through the endless corridors of Post Mansion, Cheng had stood
guard, watching him with those implacable eyes. Despite the obvious
deference showed to him on occasion, with one cool look, Cheng could
still reduce him to a six year old child again.

Seeing the dour old man standing at the doorway, Quinn flashed an impish
smile. "Yes, Cheng. I was just about to put the moves on the Lieutenant."

"Quinn." The faint flush on Adam's cheekbones turned darker and he batted
my hand away from his shoulder.

Used to Quinton's odd brand of humour, Cheng was unfazed. "Be that as it
may, master, I believe dinner is ready."

As silently and unobtrusively as he'd appeared, Cheng took his leave,
heading back towards the dining room. Knowing the request for what it
actually was - which was an order, Quinn turned back to Adam with a
barely repressed grin. "Lieutenant Li? Adam?"

The colour in his cheeks had faded away. He looked back at me and there
was a different expression on his face, something almost comically
fearful. "I think it's quite alright. I think I should be going then, Mr
Post. Enjor your dinner."

Quite unlike the self-assured man who'd stepped into my apartment, he
know looked uncommonly like a frightened fawn caught in the headlights
and that came as a surprise to Quinn. There was no perceptible wavering
on the Lieutenant's part and anyone glancing over the surface wouldn't
have noticed the palpable fear in those dark, near unfathomable eyes. "As
you said, the interview's done. The official part is over. Surely even a
dedicated cop takes some time off for a meal?"

"I.."

"It's red wine chicken." Quinn promised. "Real meat, I swear, none of
that vegechicken stuff. From our farms on Delta IV."

The detective flushed but his grin widened slightly. "You've done your
homework."

"I always try to find out as much as I can about the things that interest
me," Quinn moved forward, slowly propelling him to the door with an
insistent hand on the detective's back. Red wine chicken was a local dish
the detective favoured and Quinton had made it a point to remember. The
fragrant, tangy chicken wine soup was evidently a famous delicacy from
Li's hometown.

Pausing at the open doorway, Adam turned to him, the beginnings of a
smile turning up his lips. "Do you always come on this hard on
unsuspecting men or is it just me?"

"No one can say that I don't go for what I want." And right now, it
seemed as if the detective was on Quinton Post's main menu. From what he
could feel under the detective's heavy jacket, the man's enviable
physique certainly lived up to expectation and although Quinn would have
enjoyed sending his hand even lower down for a quick grope, he realized
that it was too much too soon.

Adam replied coolly. "Even someone who isn't interested?"

"And you're not?" he countered easily. They were standing close together
at the doorway, their faces barely inches apart and Quinn breathed in the
clean, sharp scent of the detective's sweat. Sunshine, male sweat and
Adam Li. It was an aroma that Quinn felt he could certainly get used to.

Faced with Quinn's intent scrutiny, the detective's intent gaze fell.
"Look, Quinn, this can't go anywhere."

If Quinton could stand up and begin the dance of victory, he certainly
would have but he figured Adam didn't need to know that he was a bigger
freak than he already appeared to be. Trying to avoid the subject, the
detective didn't make any attempt to deny the fact and his cautious reply
only made Quinn's confident smile become wider. For all intents and
purposes, it hadn't been a no. So perhaps he had made more of an
impression on the unflappable cop than he'd imagined. "Just dinner. Food,
drinks, pleasant conversation. Nothing up my sleeve, I promise."

That made Adam smile reluctantly. "That's what they always say."

"No poison in the food." Pleased that the detective was finally seeing
his way, Quinn grinned. "Well, maybe an aphrodisiac or two."

That certainly got the cop's attention as Adam raised a dark brow.
"Illegals?"

Although the rules for certain chems had been relaxed in the past decade,
there were still some chemicals rated illegal. It would be easy enough
however for a man like Quinton Post to get his hands on a few chemical
inducements, enough dosage to put even the buttoned-up detective in the
right mood. Imagining Adam Li hard, pliant and ever so willing under the
influence was titillating to be sure but that wasn't Quinton's style. Not
only did he not need to resort to such underhanded tactics, he also
preferred his lovers to be perfectly aware of their actions. "You gonna
cuff me, Lieutenant?"

The serious look in his face faded away and Adam's lips twitched with
amusement. "I would but I think you'd probably enjoy that just a little
too much."

Quinn laughed at his droll expression. Humour rated high in his criteria
for eligible men and he was glad that beneath the starched-up suit, there
was evidently some small glimmer of humour. "See, you already know me so
well. Move in with me then."

The laughter in his eyes faded away. "I don't.."

"Did I actually say move in? So terribly sorry, that came out six months
too soon." Quinn teased him with a warm smile. The detective had reached
his hand back to massage the back of his neck and he wondered whether the
man was quite as nervous as he. "Dinner only."

"You're very persistent." Adam sighed.

Bargaining was always Quinton's best quality and in the family, he was
known for having a way with words but for the first time, he found
himself almost stumbling over them as he tried to find a way to keep Adam
from leaving. Truth seemed to be the easiest way to disarm the man.
"Don't worry, Lieutenant. I promise not to proposition you tonight.
You'll go home tonight, untouched and unmolested, while I toss and turn
in my bed, dreaming of you."

"Damn." The quick flush of colour flooded his dark face again. Painfully
aware that he was acting like a terrified Victorian virgin, Adam laughed
nervously. "Fine. Just dinner. You'd better live up to your end of the
bargain."

"No propositions. At least not tonight."

Adam finally smiled, a flash of humour glinted in his dark eyes. "You
know I'm doing it only for the real chicken."