Date: Sat, 8 May 2010 10:39:19 -0600
From: Katya_Dee <concertoind@gmail.com>
Subject: The Year of the Salamander, chapter 13

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All the resemblances are completely
coincidental. All the characters, situations, and everything else in the
story is owned by myself beloved. Contains descriptive sexual scenes between
males. If you are not supposed to read it, do not read it! Feel free to
e-mail me.

   This is a sequel to Specter' Gamble
</nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/specters-gamble/>.  You don't have to read the first
one in order to get this one, but it would make it easier to understand the
characters in this story.



            "So, how does the whole Guardians thing work anyway?" Sam asked
an hour or so later, when Blair's arms were wrapped around him tightly, as
if Blair was afraid that Sam would take off running the minute he lets go of
him.

   "It's a job," Blair shrugged. "More intense than the others, but a job
nevertheless."

   "Well..." Sam shifted slightly next to him, the back of his head resting
on Blair's shoulder. "What do you do, exactly?"

   "We..." Blair entwined his fingers with Sam's. "Okay, each month has four
weeks, right?"

   "Uh huh..."

   "Well, each week corresponds to a certain element. Mine is the second. So
when I say something like, `It's my time of the month,' don't freak out..."

   Sam laughed at that.

   "For that entire week, I'm gonna be gone, and when I come back, I will
probably sleep for two days in a row... Well, a week and a half now, to be
exact," he sighed. "Used to be just a week but..."

   "Right," Sam muttered. "The Air, huh?"

   "Yeah," Blair sighed again, more heavily this time.

   "Why did he do it?" Sam shifted again, and now he was looking into the
other man's eyes.

   "I don't know," Blair shrugged. "Neither of us does. It came out of the
blue, without any warning... One of those days, he simply took off and never
came back... And then we were informed about the Pledge... The worst thing
was that even Daniel had no idea about anything..."

   "Who is Daniel?"

   "Earth," Blair's fingers wrapped tighter around Sam's hand. "They used to
be mates... Oh, man, Daniel was a mess after that whole thing... The first
year or so, he wouldn't even talk to anyone... I mean, he would answer
questions, of course, say something job-related, do his usual rounds, but
that was about it... He is somewhat better now, even though he is a hell of
a lot less friendly than he used to be. Can't blame him though..." he
shrugged again. "Shit like that would make me lose it completely if I were
him... But he was always the levelheaded one, the composed one... The
Earth," he gave Sam a small smile. "Fire is a bit different," he coughed.
"When I am not pissed, I control it like nobody else ever could... When I am
pissed, however, it kinda..." he coughed again. "Kinda starts controlling
me," he finished with a small nod.

   "I remember Harald story," Sam nodded solemnly, and Blair grinned.

   "Yeah," he said. "After that I realized that I needed to start getting
some self-control discipline... Can't just walk around burning random
idiots."

   "What do you do on `your time of the month'?" Sam asked, and Blair
snorted at that.

   "Getting no sleep whatsoever," he sighed. "Checking out everything,
making sure that nothing is out of the ordinary, keeping yourself tuned to
the balance... The last part is more complicated now," he sighed again. "The
balance is screwed up, so there is much more pressure to deal with... When
everything was equal, it was no problem, but now..." he shook his head.
"Everything constantly feels wrong, so you have to figure out when it's the
normal kind of `wrong,' and when it's not..."

   "What happens if it's not the normal kind?" Sam asked seriously without
looking away from Blair's eyes.

   "Then you start praying that it's just a figment of your sleep-deprived
imagination, and call for everyone else. Get all four... Three together,
analyze it as much as you can... If it's a figment, you get a thump on the
head for false alarm, and if it's not..." Blair shrugged. "If it's not, then
you prepare for all hell to break loose."

   "Has it happened?" Sam asked with a frown.

   "Not yet," Blair shook his head. "But it's been two years, and there are
still only three of us... Claudia can't find the new Air, and believe me
when I say it, she's been looking nonstop... I don't think she sleeps more
than fifteen hours a week if that... Damn Air is..."

   "The hardest element to find a Guardian for, I know," Sam nodded, and
Blair blinked at that. "Gabriel told me," he nodded calmly.

   "I see," Blair said thoughtfully.

   "So, wait," Sam shifted again, and ended up pressing his chin into the
other man's collarbone. "It's the last week of August... That means you'll
be gone in two weeks?"

   "Yes," Blair sighed. "I'll be back though... I promise," he said in a
soft voice, pressing his lips against Sam's forehead.

   Sam slid his arms around the older man's neck, and those lips, somehow,
ended up on his mouth again. He didn't mind that at all.



****



   Sam had no idea how and when he fell asleep. Blair turned on the TV, and
they were paying attention to whatever was happening on the screen for ten
minutes or so, and then the TV became nothing but white noise. Some time
after that, Sam passed out, his face buried in Blair's chest, their fingers
entwined together. He dreamt strange dreams. In his dream, he was walking on
some cliff, next to the ruined abandoned watchtower, wild water splashing
far beneath him. He was walking towards a silent call, which was calling him
desperately. It wasn't a voice he was following; it was just some silent
urgent signal that was pulsating under his skin, making him itch with desire
to hurry up already.

   He wasn't exactly sure if he *wanted *to go there; he felt, however, that
he *had to* do that. He walked slowly, trying to resist the call, but the
power of it was simply too much, so he kept on walking. His left shoulder
blade was pulsating and itching viciously, as if he was bitten by some very
angry ants. He scratched it absent-mindedly, but the itching only got worse.
He frowned when he realized that he could feel flaming heat brushing against
his fingertips the second he touched that itching spot. He turned his head
and pulled off his shirt slightly, trying to see what was on his skin. The
only thing he saw was some golden glow.

   Suddenly, he heard mad barking behind his back, and he turned around. A
big white dog was chasing after him with desperate speed. "Specter," Sam
muttered and tried to stop. His body didn't obey and he kept on walking. The
dog ran faster, barking nonstop, as if saying, "Stop!" Sam's fingers wrapped
around the old wooden doorknob on the door of the watchtower, and he turned
it, wincing slightly from the screeching angry sound the open door produced.
He tried stopping himself once again, gritting his teeth in the impossible
effort, when his right foot crossed the threshold and he...

   "Wake up! Sam...! Wake up...!"

   He moaned and his eyes flew wide open.

   "What..." he muttered, realizing that his heart was racing and his hands
were shaking.

   "You were shaking," Blair said softly and ran his fingers across Sam's
face. "Bad dream?"

   "I guess..." Sam frowned slightly. "I..." he frowned deeper. "I don't
remember..." he muttered finally. "I just remember Specter was there..."

   "Specter?" Blair repeated with a confused frown.

   "My dog," Sam muttered and straightened up. "What time is it?" he looked
around with puzzlement. "It's dark..."

   "It's..." Blair tried to look at his watch, and suddenly, Sam's phone let
out a shrill ring.

   Sam reached for the table where he left it earlier, flipped it open, and
pressed it against his ear.

   "Yeah..." he muttered.

   "Kid," the phone said darkly. "Where the hell are you? I want to go to
sleep, but Rayhe just glares at me every time I say something... Are you
coming home tonight or what?"

   "Oh..." Sam coughed. "I... Desmond, what time is it?"

   "It's one in the morning, Sam," the phone said even darker.

   "Oh..." Sam said again. "Crap, sorry about that... I fell asleep... Yeah,
I'll be there..."

   "Since I am going to wait for you apparently," the phone's intonation got
colder. "Get your ass here sooner rather than later... I want to go to
sleep! I have to go to school tomorrow morning! I have less than a week
until the semester starts."

   "Ugh, yeah," Sam sighed guiltily. "Sorry, Desmond, I..."

   "Just move it," the phone interrupted him, and then the line clicked
dead.

   Sam sighed and snapped his phone shut.

   "It's one in the morning," he said.

   "Yeah," Blair said in somewhat guilty voice. "Sorry, I didn't realize how
late it was... You are not going to be in troubles, are you?" he frowned
slightly. "That guy... Desmond..."

   "No," Sam shook his head immediately, small smile crossing his lips. "He
might fume for a bit, but he'll be fine."

   "Who is he?" Blair let go of Sam's fingers reluctantly. "What does he
do?"

   "He is an instructor at the military school," Sam flipped on the light
switch and winced when the bright light attacked his eyes immediately.

   "Oh, the military type then?" Blair got up as well.

   "Kinda," Sam said vaguely.

   "Hard-ass, shaved head, and such?" Blair followed him into the hallway
where Sam put on his sneakers.

   Sam remembered Desmond's skinny frame and long black hair, and he
blinked, trying to hide the smile.

   "Not quite," he said and straightened up after the sneakers were securely
on his feet. "Blair, I need to go. He is waiting for me, and he needs to go
to school tomorrow morning. When he doesn't get at least six hours of sleep,
he is pain in the ass... Plus, if that smell is still present in his car..."
he sighed without finishing the sentence.

  "Right," Blair nodded. "Come over tomorrow," he said when Sam pulled his
car keys out of his pocket. "After you wake up..."

   "Yeah," Sam threw him a quick glance. "I will... Do you want me to call
you or..."

   "No," Blair didn't smile this time. "Just come over."

   "Okay," Sam said quietly.

   He opened the front door, and right before he walked outside, Blair spun
him around and Sam almost forgot about Desmond and how big of a pain in the
ass he would be tomorrow if he didn't get his sleep tonight. He remembered
about him when he started wondering why the hell they are kissing on the
front step of the house instead of moving to the couch where it would be
much more comfortable.

   "Mmm," he breathed and pulled away. "Blair, I need to go..."

   "Yeah..." Blair breathed in the same panting manner. "Yeah, sure... I'll
see you tomorrow..."

   He watched Sam get into his car and drive away, and then he locked the
door and went into the kitchen. He was wiping the counter absent-mindedly
with a paper towel, his mind replaying this entire evening, taste of Sam's
mouth on his tongue, his heartbeat tingling in his fingertips... He blinked
when he realized that his fingertips were indeed tingling. He looked down
and saw that the paper towel he was wiping the kitchen counter with, was
ablaze.

   "Shit!" he hissed, and threw it into the sink. Then he stared at the
black burnt spot in the middle of the counter and sighed deeply. Finally, he
unplugged the coffeemaker, sat it on top of the black spot, looked at it for
a minute or two, and shrugged. "The cord is long enough," he muttered after
making sure that it was indeed. "It's all good."



****



   When Sam finally got home, it was 1:45. He let out a small sigh before
walking inside the house.

   "Finally!" Desmond rolled his eyes and got up, pushing the chair aside.
"Good night, everyone!"

   "Desmond..."

   "Night, Sam," Desmond waved his hand in the air. "Rayhe, don't even think
about waking me up!" He walked away without waiting for any reply. Sam
winced slightly when he heard the bedroom door slam.

   "Gabriel, sorry about that," he said with another sigh. "I fell asleep."

   "It's okay," Gabriel seemed to be in his usual mild mood. "I just wanted
to make sure everything is okay before going to bed."

   "Why didn't you just let him go to sleep?" Sam kicked off his sneakers.
"You know how he gets when he doesn't get his sleep..."

   "Yeah, well," Rayhe grinned. "I do it on daily basis, and he had three
months off, so I wanted him to be in the same boat with me for once."

   "I see," Sam hemmed. "Where is Specter?" he looked around with a small
frown.

   "In your room," Gabriel sighed. "I didn't want Des to get even more
pissed off. Well, night Sam," he got up and fixed the chair that Desmond
shoved aside a few minutes earlier.

   "Night, Gabriel," Sam smiled.

   "How's Eve?" Gabriel paused before getting into the bedroom. "I mean,
apparently everything is going great," he shrugged. "Bring her over
sometimes... Well, when he gets enough sleep, that is," he muttered and
nodded towards the bedroom.

   "Yeah," Sam made sure he didn't cringe. "I will... Night, Gabriel..."

   Rayhe gave him a quick smile and disappeared in the bedroom. Sam felt
guilty and embarrassed. He never lied to either one of them before. Not like
he is lying now... Technically, he never said that he spent the last two
days with Eve... Both -- Desmond and Gabriel -- simply assumed that was the
case...

   "Dammit..." Sam grumbled and turned off the lights before going into his
room. Specter let out a high-pitch yelp the second Sam walked in, and Sam
quickly hushed him. Suddenly, the dog stared at him with confusion and took
several steps back.

   "What?" Sam frowned. The dog kept staring at him without moving, the tip
of his tail jerking tentatively, as if the dog wasn't sure whether he wanted
to lick Sam to death or to dive under the bed. "Specter, what the hell is
wrong with you?" Sam whispered with frustration. "You were fine yesterday
with his scent all over me... What is it now?" The dog didn't answer, of
course, but his ears moved nervously.

   "Specter, come on..." Sam reached out for him, and the dog stepped away.
"Goddammit..." Sam muttered. "I don't know what your problem is, Specter...
I am going to bed, good night!" He pulled off his clothes without even
bothering with the pajamas, turned off the lights, and dove into bed.

****



   Gabriel slid under the blanket and glanced at the pretending-to-be-asleep
figure next to him.

   "I know you are awake," he muttered and ran his fingers through that
black long hair.

   "I am opposite of awake," was the reply he got.

   Rayhe grinned and scooted closer.

   "No you are not," he whispered and traced the neckline under all that
hair with his fingertips.

   "Rayhe, do you want to die?"

   "Not at the moment, no," Gabriel said sincerely and his fingers became
more insistent.

   "Goddammit... Rayhe, all I want to do right now is sleep, okay...? Ohh,
son of a..."

   "Really," Gabriel hemmed, his hand sliding downwards under the blanket.
"Hmm, I beg to differ..."

  "Rayhe, stop this right... Mmm... Yeah, right there... Mmm..."

   "Stop right there...?"

   "Asshole..."

   "You told me to stop..."

   "I am going to murder you one of those days... You started it, don't stop
now..."

   "Des, go easy on him... He seems happy... He finally met someone, that
is... Ohh, do that again... Uh huh, that... Mmm..."

   "I know that's great, but there is something..."

   "Mmm... What? `There is something' what? You can talk and do that at the
same time, you know... Those are two different functions... You can
multitask, can't you?"

   "Yes, I can multitask... Prove enough?"

   "Ahhh... Yeah... Keep... Ohh, keep going..."

   "There is something... I don't know... Something feels off, you know?"

   "Mmm..."

   "Rayhe, concentrate for a second, will you?"

   "I am concentrating... Go on..."

   "As I was saying, something feels off... He looks guilty somehow...
Guilty and scared..."

   "Well, of course he feels guilty; it's almost two in the morning... As
for scared... Have you looked at yourself in the mirror when you are pissed?
Can't blame him, really... I didn't tell you to stop..."

   "Nonsense! It doesn't matter how pissed I am; I will never do anything to
him, and he knows that. It's something else. Different kind of guilt and
different kind of fright... Rayhe, are you even listening to me?"

   "Uh huh... Mmm... I am... Ohh... I am listening... Different..."

   "Dammit... Rayhe, I am telling you, something is off... You are working
at the bank; you should have a fairly decent database, right...? Rayhe!"

   "Huh...? Why did you stop?"

   "What did I just say?"

   "Database, I've heard you... What do you want with the damn database?"

   "Look up that name; shouldn't be too hard. It wasn't very common."

   "Evelynne, right?"

   "Evelienne."

   "Right... I'll remember..."

   "Like hell you will... I will write it down for you in the morning. Look
her up, see who she is, what she does... I suspect she is not much older
than Sam... Hmm, or at least she doesn't look much older... Okay, forget the
age, just look up the name... You will remember, right?"

   "Yeah, yeah, don't stop...!"

   "Damn you, Rayhe! This is a legitimate worry, you know... If I sense that
something is off, do you know what it usually means?"

   "That something is off?"

  "Exactly! I might've changed my name but I didn't change myself, okay?"

   "You didn't change your name... You simply are using your actual name,
and not a nick, that's all..."

   "Semantics..."

   "Okay, Des, I promise I will look her up tomorrow morning! I will do it
as soon as I get there, okay? Do you want me to sign something with my blood
now?"

   "No, that would not be necessary..."

   "Good, now stop talking... Oh, by the way..."

   "Mmm...?"

   "If I don't find her in our files, it's not going to mean anything... It
would only mean that she is not on our files... We don't have every single
person in the city in our system, you know... We are a bank, not militia
headquarters..."

   "I know that... If you don't find her... Oh, holy hell! Rayhe, I was...
Oh!"

   "You were saying...?"

   "Goddammit... Mmm... If you don't find her, I will... Ohh... I will do it
myself... Oh, yeah, right... Ohh... Right there... Oh, bloody hell, yes!
What are you... What are you doing...? Are you singing? Rayhe, what the
hell... Oh my God... Make that song a long one, will you? Take every single
chorus... Oh God, and I thought you were tone-deaf... Oh, shit, Gab...
Gabriel, slow down... Seriously... Ohh..."

   ...Desmond didn't fall asleep until almost four in the morning, and when
the alarm went off at 7:30, he seriously contemplated a very gruesome
murder.