Date: Tue, 30 Mar 2010 10:37:54 -0600
From: Katya_Dee <concertoind@gmail.com>
Subject: Specter's Gamble - chapter 22 - 23

This is a work of fiction; all the resemblances are completely accidental. I
am the one who owns all the ideas and characters in the story. Contains
violence and descriptive sexual scenes between two males. If you are not
supposed to read it, don't do so. Feel free to e-mail me with praises or
insults (former preferred).


- XXII -



            He went into some tavern; he didn't even notice the name
of it. He ordered a drink, and after it arrived, he just sat there,
staring at it blindly. He sat in that tavern until almost one in the
morning, his drink untouched, his gaze empty. Finally, at one in the
morning, the waitress tapped him on the shoulder slightly.

   "We are closing, hun," she said, and Rayhe jerked slightly as if
she woke him up. He looked at her with a small frown, as if he was
trying to figure out what she just said. "We are closing," she
repeated patiently.

   Gabriel blinked several times.

   "Right..." he muttered finally and got up.

   "Your drink, hun," the waitress said after glancing at his glass.
Rayhe looked at her quizzically. "Aren't you gonna finish it? It looks
like you barely touched it..."

   "No," Gabriel muttered and carefully put several bills on the table.

   The waitress smiled and swiftly put the money into her apron pocket.

   "Thanks, hun," she called after Rayhe stumbled towards the front
door. He just nodded without saying anything or even looking back.

   ...He walked home. Well, to Desmond's apartment – that was his home
now. (*"Desmond, Desmond, Desmond...") *He gritted his teeth.

   He walked slowly, so it took him almost an hour to get to the
apartment finally. He fiddled with the door lock for a minute, trying
to fit the key into the keyhole in complete darkness. Finally, he
succeeded and the key turned in the lock smoothly. "I need to change
that light bulb," he thought absent-mindedly while walking inside and
kicking off his shoes. He was so tense right now that his muscles
ached.

   He went into the kitchen, opened the window, and lit a cigarette.

   "Did he buy it?" a quiet voice asked behind his back, and Rayhe
turned around slowly, relieved smile stretching his mouth. He flicked
his cigarette out of the window.

   "Yeah," he said in a low voice. "He bought it."

   "Good," Desmond muttered when Rayhe pulled him closer and buried
his face in his hair.





 - XXIII -



*Three days ago*



               "It's a miracle," Desmond said as seriously as before.
"Let's go eat something, I am hungry."

   They went outside and Rayhe felt as if he had a lead bar in his
left pocket; that vial was getting heavier and heavier with every step
that he took. They went to a small café on the side of the road and
Gabriel forced himself to eat something. Later, he couldn't even
remember what it was that he ate. He kept up the mindless chatter,
answering Desmond's questions, throwing jokes and mocking insults back
and forth between them. By the time they finished eating, Rayhe felt
worse than ever.

   "Ate too much?" Desmond asked him on the way back, his eyes
narrowed slightly.

   "Why?" Gabriel stopped himself from flinching just in time.

   "You are quiet all of a sudden," the assassin shrugged, his eyes
still narrowed.

   "I guess," Rayhe sighed. "Those mushrooms didn't agree with me."

   "Ah," Desmond nodded and stopped talking until they finally got
back to the apartment.

   Several hours later, Gabriel couldn't take this anymore. "Screw
it," he thought desperately. "I can't... I just can't..."

   He went into the living room where Desmond was watching TV,
mindlessly flipping through the channels. Rayhe walked closer to the
couch, sat down, and took the remote control out of the assassin's
hand. He turned off the TV and put the remote away. Desmond looked at
him silently, his expression slightly curious. Gabriel pulled him
closer without saying anything and buried his face in his hair.
Desmond slowly wrapped his arms around Rayhe's neck. He didn't say
anything either. They sat in silence for several minutes, and then
Gabriel muttered into the assassin's hair:

   "I am sorry... I lied to you... About the house..."

   He was startled when Desmond replied calmly:

   "I know."

   Rayhe straightened up and looked at him, his eyes wide. Desmond
shrugged, his arms still around Gabriel's neck.

   "When you came back, you looked lost," he said with a small smile.
"Also on the way back from the café you said that the mushrooms didn't
agree with you..."

   "So?" Rayhe frowned. "Is that sign of lying number one? Mushroom
indigestion?"

   "You didn't order any mushrooms," Desmond said and Rayhe just
blinked at that. "What happened?"

   Gabriel took a deep breath and told him the entire story. When he
finished talking, Desmond's arms slowly slid off his neck, and Rayhe
hated the feeling. The assassin sat in silence for several minutes,
his expression solemn, arms folded in his chest.

   "Why did you tell me?" he asked finally.

   "Do you even have to ask?" Rayhe said quietly. "If you knew that I
was lying, what were you going to do?"

   "I don't know," Desmond shrugged. "I would probably leave if not
tonight, then tomorrow night for sure," he turned his head and looked
at Gabriel, small smile playing on his lips. "My self-preservation is
still present in spite of what Salamander might think."

   Gabriel closed his eyes for several seconds.

   "You need to leave," he said finally and opened his eyes. "I mean,
if you leave, you'll simply disappear; they won't find you. You have
to leave."

   Now Desmond's expression was a little bit more curious then a while ago.

   "If I leave," he said slowly. "You'll end up in some very deep
shit, Rayhe, and you know it."

   Gabriel shrugged almost indifferently.

   "I'll figure something out," he said. "And if not..." he shrugged
again. "It won't last forever, right?" he grinned.

   Desmond cocked his head slightly to the left, his curiosity slowly
trading places with thoughtfulness.

   "Huh," he said finally, and Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

   "What?" he asked.

   "I am not going to leave," Desmond said calmly.

   "Des, you..."

   "I am not leaving," the assassin interrupted Rayhe. "Deal with it.
I am, however, going to finish this thing once and for all..."

   "You gonna kill him?" Gabriel frowned. "That would be..."

   "No," Desmond leaned on the back of the couch. "Killing him would
only create yet another problem... Right now, you have a very good
shot at getting your clean slate; if I take Julian out, then it will
never happen, since he is the only one in his entire family who is
willing to give it to you. He is also the only one who is able to make
it happen. Therefore, killing him is out of the question..."

   "Then what?" Rayhe asked after Desmond just sat there, frowning
thoughtfully, his fingers tapping fast rhythm on the couch cushion.

   "Give me the vial," the assassin said finally.

   Gabriel handed him the small container.

   "If you open it, he'll know..." he said, and Desmond shot him a dark look.

   "You think?" he muttered with a crooked smile.

   The vial was made out of glass; the top of it, however, was
plastic. The plastic part was sealed tightly, secured to the glass. It
seemed like it would break off easily, however, when the time came to
use the liquid inside the container.

   "Why is the top plastic?" Rayhe asked when Desmond got off the couch.

   "Breaks easier," the assassin answered absent-mindedly. "Also,
there is no danger of cutting yourself on the glass."

   "I see..." Gabriel muttered. "What are you looking for?" he asked
after a few minutes, watching Desmond dig in the drawers of the big
desk that was sitting in the corner.

   The assassin just muttered something unintelligible and kept
digging through the drawers.

   "What was the name of the mark you told me about?" Rayhe asked
suddenly, and Desmond looked at him. "The one with the scars?"

   "Yeah," Desmond said indifferently. "Vivienne; it was the same
Julian after all..."

   "At least he doesn't know that you slept with her..." Rayhe said
thoughtfully.

   "Yeah," Desmond said again and straightened up finally. "I knew it
was here somewhere..." he muttered with satisfaction.

   He held a syringe in his hand. Rayhe watched him with interest when
Desmond took the vial and walked to the window. He critically studied
the plastic top of the vial, turning the small container back and
forth in the sunlight. Finally, he pulled off the plastic tube that
was covering the needle of the syringe with his teeth, and very
carefully inserted the needle between two plastic ridges on the top of
the vial. He bit his lip while slowly making all the liquid to flow
into the syringe. Finally, the small container was empty and Desmond
emptied the syringe into the flowerpot that has been sitting on the
windowsill. The plant in that pot was completely and hopelessly dead.

   "If this doesn't make it grow, then I don't know what will..."
Desmond muttered, and Gabriel let out weak laughter.

   The assassin caught the last drop that was dancing on the tip of
the syringe with his finger, and carefully tasted it.

   "Thought so," he muttered after a few seconds, and spat into the
same flowerpot.

   "What is it?" Rayhe sounded genuinely curious.

   "This shit doesn't knock you out," Desmond said and walked into the
kitchen. "It incapacitates you," he called from the kitchen, and a
second later, Gabriel heard the water running. It stopped after a
minute or so, and Desmond came back into the living room. "You can't
move but you feel everything," he finished.

   "The same drug they gave me?" Rayhe frowned.

   "No," the assassin repeated the whole ordeal with the syringe and
the vial. This time he filled the vial with water. "That one knocks
you out for a few hours... This one doesn't. It doesn't heighten your
senses either. It just incapacitates you."

   "There might be some traces left in there still," Rayhe frowned
slightly after Desmond handed him the vial.

   "I know," the assassin nodded. "I don't want to tamper with it any
more though... Whatever is left in there is not enough to affect me
much anyway."

   "So, I take it, you have a plan?" Rayhe said after Desmond lit a cigarette.

   "I guess..." the assassin said slowly. "This whole thing could be
played out in two ways. Scenario A is Salamander kicking you out of
the house after you do your part, and having his way with me. I know
that he told you he's not gonna make me suffer, but I have trust
issues. Especially, when it comes to the Salamander family, call me
crazy," he shrugged. "Scenario B is him doing something to the house,
like setting it on fire."

   "There also could be a scenario C," Gabriel frowned. "He might wait
for us at the house and ambush you or something like that..."

   "No," Desmond shook his head immediately. "He won't. He wants you
to drug me; he wants me to know that you are the one who sold me out."

   "Why?" Rayhe asked.

   "Because he wants me to taste the betrayal," Desmond answered with
serene smile. "Betrayal sometimes feels worse than physical pain."

   "Right..." Gabriel muttered, unable to look into assassin's green
eyes. He almost did betray him, he thought. He considered the deal and
accepted it; never mind the fact that he couldn't go through with it
later. He *accepted* it.

   "Therefore," Desmond continued as if not noticing Rayhe's guilty
look. "We need two different strategies. If it turns out to be
scenario A, then I won't have any choice but kill him, clean slate or
not. In case if he is not alone..." he lit another cigarette. "You
might need to get inside that house because things might get hairy."

   Rayhe nodded silently.

   "If it's scenario B, however..." Desmond thought for several
minutes. "You'll need to go to that house tonight; make sure that the
back door is unlocked. I am pretty positive that he is going to set up
a camera or two inside the house, to make sure that you do everything
he said and not tip me off. I mean, that's what I would do," he
shrugged. "So when we get there on Friday night, act well. Whatever
you do," he looked at Rayhe seriously. "Do not pull on your hair."

   "Right," Gabriel was finally able to look into Desmond's eyes. "If
he indeed is going to set the house on fire, you might not have enough
time to get far away from it... I mean, to get far enough. You might
end up getting burned. And I won't be able to get you."

   Desmond chewed on his lower lip for a minute.

   "I might have a solution for that," he said finally. "Let's go."

   "Where?"

   "We are going to visit someone," Desmond said with a small smile.

   "Des..." Gabriel said quietly when they were by the front door.

   The assassin turned his head and looked at him with a silent question.

  "Des, I..."

   "Forget about it," Desmond interrupted him when Rayhe's eyes became
almost haunted. "You had your reasons... Plus," he shrugged. "You told
me. That makes the whole thing somewhat all right."

   "No, it doesn't," Rayhe said in the same quiet voice. "It doesn't. I..."

   "I said, forget it," Desmond interrupted him again.

   He looked at Gabriel for several seconds, and when Rayhe's
expression remained miserable and guilty, he rolled his eyes, grabbed
the other man's collar, and pulled him towards himself. Gabriel
shivered when Desmond's mouth assaulted his. He wrapped both arms
around the assassin and kissed him back hungrily.

   "Did this make it better?" Desmond asked several minutes later
after he pulled away, breathless.

   "Yeah," Rayhe nodded, relieved smile stretching his mouth. "A hell
of a lot..."

   "Good," Desmond nodded. "Let's go."