Date: Mon, 10 May 2010 23:32:49 -0600
From: Katya_Dee <concertoind@gmail.com>
Subject: The Year of the Salamander, chapter 18

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.


- XVIII -



            He wasn't a single bit surprised when he came home and found Sam
scrubbing the floors with furious desperation. He looked very determined.
Desmond glanced around. "Good God!" he thought. The house literally
sparkled.

   "Did you do anything besides cleaning today?" he asked and took a step
forward, thinking of making some tea.

   Sam straightened up with speed of lightning, the rug jerking violently in
his hand when he shot his arm towards Desmond.

   "Don't!" he barked, and Desmond froze. For a second, he had a nightmarish
thought that Sam sat explosives around the house. "Don't even think about
getting in here in your boots!" Sam said in a more normal tone of voice, and
Desmond blinked.

   Boots? He looked down and realized that he indeed had his boots on. He
carefully took them off and looked at the kid.

   "I am not leaving them behind the door," he said. "I like these boots; I
don't want some dipshit to steal them."

   "You don't have to leave them behind the door," Sam returned to his
scrubbing. "Put them right there," he glanced up and nodded towards the
wall. "Just don't wear them in the house..."

   "Okay," Desmond said in what he hoped sounded like soothing voice. He put
the boots down. "Do I have to take my socks off as well?" he asked, and Sam
snorted.

   "Not unless you have mud on them," he looked up again. "You don't, do
you?"

   Desmond rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen.

   "I am not that hopeless," he muttered. "And not that filthy," he added a
minute later, trying to find the tea bags. "Where the hell is my tea?" he
asked finally after failing to find a single bag.

   "Oh," Sam dropped the rug into the bucket and got up. "Here," he opened a
completely different cupboard, and Desmond blinked at that. "This one is
much better for teas and coffee and such... See, it has..."

   "Kid," Desmond said somewhat calmly. "I liked my tea where it was. All I
had to do was to reach out, grab the bag, and drop it into the mug."

   "You can do it now as well," Sam nodded energetically. "Because I also
moved the mugs."

   Desmond stared at him, completely mute. Finally, he shook his head.

   "Okay," he said. "Okay... Is there anything else you did? I don't know...
Something like, switching the bedrooms, or moving all my crap elsewhere?"

   "I didn't even go into your room," Sam snorted. "You can clean that one
yourself. And no, I didn't move much more... Well," he scratched the back of
his head. "I moved all the paper towels, and I switched pots and pans with
the other dishes... This way it's easier, you see..."

   "Kid," Desmond interrupted him. "I don't care. Explain it to Rayhe when
he gets home, he is the one who cooks in this house. As long as you promise
not to move my tea again, I am good... Oh, by the way, where are the coffee
filters?"

   "Here," Sam opened one of the drawers. "I figured that if they are closer
to the..."

   "Seriously, kid," Desmond shook his head and filled the kettle with
water. "I don't care," he finished after he switched the stove on. "Rayhe
will have fun though," he snorted to himself mostly.

   Sam shrugged almost indifferently, said, "Meh," and went back to his
bucket.

   "Where is the mutt?" Desmond frowned slightly after he realized that the
dog wasn't trying to slobber all over his feet.

   "Oh," Sam sighed. "I locked him in my bedroom. He kept thinking that I
was playing with him... And after I spilled a bucket of water..." he sighed
again, and Desmond nodded.

   "Gotcha," he said seriously and looked at the kettle.

   "I umm..." Sam coughed without looking up. "I am not going anywhere
tonight... In case if you wonder..." he finished in a softer voice.

   "Okay," Desmond said with a small shrug. "I would say let's play cards
but it's not going to happen."

   "Why?" Sam looked up with a frown. Desmond looked at the clock.

   "Because Rayhe will be home..." There was a sound of engine outside and
he nodded. "Now," he said. "And since you moved everything around in his
kitchen, methinks he would like to know where everything went... And since
we have quite a few utensils, it will take a while," he finished with
another nod.

   "Ah," Sam said and returned to his scrubbing.

   Desmond threw another glance at the kettle and went to the front door.
Gabriel walked in and blinked when he saw how clean the house was.

   "If you value your life and well-being," Desmond said in a low voice.
"Take your shoes off right now."

   Gabriel blinked again and slowly took off his shoes.

   "Have fun in the kitchen," Desmond said in the same low voice.

   "What happened in the..." Gabriel started saying with a small frown when
the kettle whistled shrilly.

   "Do me a favor," Desmond said quickly. "Let me make my tea first, okay? I
don't want to spill hot water all over myself."

   He quickly went into the kitchen, leaving very puzzled Gabriel behind and
poured water into his mug.

   "Okay," he said a minute later. "Go ahead now, have fun. I'll just watch
TV."

   He sat on the couch and turned on the TV. He turned down the volume
almost right away, however, his expression intent and curious. Gabriel went
into the kitchen, his frown is somewhat worried by now. Desmond dropped his
head onto the back of the couch, listening intently. There was a sound of a
drawer opening, then there was a slam of the cupboard's door, then there was
some other sound Desmond could not identify, and then there was Rayhe's
incredulous:

   "What the hell...? Sam!!"

   Desmond grinned and glanced at the TV. There was nothing interesting
happening there; it seemed like whatever was about to happen in the kitchen,
would be much more entertaining. He was right.

   "Sam, what the hell...? Where is..."

   "It's right here. See, this way you can..."

   "No! That doesn't go there! Sam, this has to be right here!"

   "That's because you are used to it, Gabriel. Believe me, this way is a
lot easier and..."

   "It's not easier! And it's not because I am used to it... It's because it
makes sense!"

   "Look, just give it a chance, okay? If you just..."

   "Where are my spices?"

   "Here."

   "Are you kidding me?! That's where coffee goes!"

   "No, coffee is right here. This way..."

   "Sam, undo it!"

   Desmond laughed at that silently. He knew that if he makes any noise
right now, he'd get hit by the aftermath.

   "I can't undo it!"

   "Oh, hell yes, you can! Just put everything back where it used to be!"

   "Are you serious? Gabriel, first of all, this arrangement makes more
sense... And second of all... Do you have any idea how long it will take
me?"

   "I don't care! This is my kitchen, my cooking, ergo my order!"

   "Gabriel..."

   "Goddammit... Fine, I will help you... But everything is going back to
the way it was, Sam! I'm gonna eat something and you better finish whatever
the hell you were doing, because you are going to put everything back!"

   "Gabriel..."

   "Ah!"

   "Ugh, fine, fine... Let me empty the bucket..."

   Sam stormed out of the kitchen, grumbling something under his breath,
grabbed the bucket and went into the bathroom. Rayhe was muttering something
that Desmond failed to hear. There was a sound of the fridge door opening,
and then there was another:

   "Sam!!"

  "What?" Sam came out of the bathroom with an empty bucket.

   "What the hell did you do to the fridge?"

   Desmond frowned at that. He didn't look in the fridge. "Goddammit," he
thought with a frown, remembering the leftovers from the dinner Rayhe made a
couple of nights ago. Desmond had no idea what was in there, but it tasted
unbelievably good. "If he threw that out..."

   "Where is all the food?!" Rayhe sounded like he was about to explode.

   "It's in there," Sam's voice sounded puzzled.

   "Where is the fettuccini?"

   Desmond blinked. Is that what that thing is called?

   "That was old, Gabriel... I gave it to Specter..."

   "You *what*?!" Now it was both – Gabriel and Desmond – who screamed that
out.

   "It was old," Sam rolled his eyes. "Guys, it was two days old!" He seemed
completely unshaken, as if he had to deal with some toddlers who were
throwing a fit.

   "Two days is not old, Sam!" That was Desmond.

   "Two weeks is old!" That was Gabriel.

   "It wasn't fresh anymore..." Sam said patiently, and that made Desmond
want to swear up a storm. He restrained himself, however. He knew that
thanks to him and Rayhe, Sam's obscene vocabulary was quite rich by now, but
he didn't want to make it even richer. "Specter liked it," Sam shrugged, and
Desmond felt like strangling that damn mutt.

   "I liked it too, Sam," he said in a very even voice. "Goddammit, kid...
You fed our dinner to the dog..."

   "I can make something," Sam shrugged again.

   "Uh huh," Rayhe said gloomily. "Sorry, Sam, I don't feel like having
scrambled eggs right now, and that is the only thing you can make somewhat
okay..."

   "So not true! I can also make..."

   "Come on," Gabriel sighed. "Put your shoes on. We are going out to eat
something... And when we come back, you are fixing my kitchen."

   "Gabriel, just give it a day or so... You'll like it...!"

   "No, I won't. Go put your shoes on."

   "Ugh, fine... Where are we going?"

   "Don't know, don't care."

   "There is a deli called Pure Luck... It's kinda far away but it's really
good."

   "Fine by me."

   "Umm, Desmond should drive."

   "Why?"

   "Umm, because if you do, we won't get there until nine in the evening..."

   "And if he drives...?"

   "We'll be there in half an hour," Sam nodded.

   "Rayhe, you are riding in the back."

   "Why?"

   "Because I don't want to have another heart attack when you decide to
shove your finger in front of my face for no reason, that's why."

   "Drive like a normal person and not like a maniac, and I won't have to do
that..."

   "Rayhe, you are riding in the back!"

   "Goddammit... Fine, let's go, I am hungry."



****

   "Huh, kid, this place is awesome!" Desmond said an hour later when they
were almost done with the appetizers. "How in the world did you find it?"

   Sam looked at him through his eyelashes. They got here in twenty minutes,
Sam was impressed. It usually took Blair at least half an hour. Granted, the
traffic right now wasn't as bad, but still... Thinking of Blair immediately
darkened his mood. He said that he had to leave around eight in the morning
today, and he wouldn't be back until next Wednesday night, maybe early
Thursday morning. The entire day today, Sam felt like kicking all shit out
of something. He decided to clean instead. The very thought that he still
had nine Blair-less days ahead of him, made him grit his teeth.

   "I umm... I found it," he said and Desmond made a small `huh' sound.

   "Why did you drive all the way up here?" He sounded genuinely curious.

   "I don't remember," Sam shrugged, concentrating on his last several
shrimps.

   He hated himself for lying to both of them, but every time he thought
about coming clean, he would just choke on his own words. "Umm, Desmond, I
am seeing the Fire Guardian..." Yeah, that would be a great conversation...
Desmond would say something nasty about the Guardians at least once every
day; for some reason, the man couldn't stand the very thought of them. Sam
had no idea why and he didn't dare to ask Desmond any questions, knowing
that the man would probably start spitting acid the minute Sam brings up the
subject.

   He knew that he would have to tell him sooner or later, but he decided to
wait until he could come up with a decent excuse for why he waited so long,
and also enough courage. He considered confiding in Gabriel but discarded
that thought almost immediately – Desmond would know if Rayhe were hiding
something from him, the man's intuition bordered on the line of
mythological. Sam was amazed that Desmond didn't smell anything suspicious
about Sam's behavior lately. He was positive that he was a hell of a lot
easier to read than Gabriel. However, Desmond didn't seem a bit suspicious,
and Sam accepted the fact as a gift.

   "Well," Desmond said lightly. "Whatever the reason was, I am glad you
found this place."

   He was about to say something else, but he was interrupted by a loud and
surprised:

   "Sam?"

   Sam blinked and turned his head. Then he felt cold.

   "Eve!" He tried to smile, and it worked somewhat. "Hey!"

   He got up so quickly that he bumped his knee on the table and knocked
over the peppershaker.

   "How are you?" Eve's smile grew bigger.

   Sam knew that she was about to say something along the lines of, `Haven't
seen you in a while!' so he quickly said:

   "Good! Hey, Eve, this is Gabriel..." He nodded at Rayhe. "...and this is
Desmond..." He poked Desmond's shoulder and the man blinked.

   "Desmond..." Eve repeated thoughtfully. "The apple-Desmond?"

   "Umm, yeah..." Sam laughed uncomfortably.

   "Please don't tell me that the smell is still there," Eve said seriously,
looking at Desmond.

   "Somewhat," he sighed. "Almost gone though... Well, it's nice to meet you
finally, Eve... Would you like to join us? We are about to order our food."

   "Please say no," Sam thought feverishly. "Oh, God, please say no...
Please say..."

   "I'd love to," Eve said, and Sam closed his eyes. "But I can't," she
finished with a small sigh.

   "Thank-you-thank-you-thank-you..." Sam thought with enormous relief.

   "I have a bear of an essay to finish until noon tomorrow... And I barely
started on it..." She sighed again. "It's a pity though," she nodded.
"Because I haven't seen..."

   "Let me walk you to your car," Sam said brightly before she could finish
the sentence, and she blinked.

   "Okay," she nodded and looked at Desmond and Gabriel. "It was nice
meeting you!" she smiled and stretched out her hand.

   Gabriel was sitting too far to reach for it, so he just smiled and said,
"Nice meeting you too, Eve!"

   Desmond shook her palm and gave her a small smile.

   "Have fun with your essay," he said, and she snorted.

   "Absolutely!"

   Gabriel watched her and Sam walk towards the exit doors, and he was
frowning thoughtfully.

   "I thought she dumped him," he said, and Desmond glanced at him briefly
above the menu.

   "Nope," he said.

  "That's what you thought as well," Rayhe rolled his eyes.

   "I did," Desmond agreed. "I see now that I was wrong... They never
dated... The last time he saw her was probably when he sprayed that damn air
freshener in my car... Hmm, stuffed mushrooms sound good, don't you think?"

   "What are you talking about?" Gabriel frowned deeper. "He was hanging out
with her for the last two weeks..."

   "He was hanging out," Desmond nodded. "But not with her."

   "Who was he hanging out with then? And how in the world do you know
that?"

   "Have no idea and it is very simple. She acted like she hasn't seen him
in a while, and he looked like she was Devil incarnate. Now I understand why
he acted the way he did..." He hemmed. "Explains guilt and fright," he
nodded with satisfaction. "Can't figure out why he would hide it..." He
frowned slightly, and then shrugged. "Oh, well... Don't say anything, Rayhe.
Let him think we never noticed anything... Well, no. Let him think I didn't
notice anything, because you are, apparently, blind as a bat."

   Gabriel muttered something Desmond ignored, and by the time Sam came
back, Desmond was enjoying his stuffed mushrooms.