Date: Sat, 1 May 2010 07:28:28 -0600
From: Katya_Dee <concertoind@gmail.com>
Subject: The Year of the Salamander, chapter 3

   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.


- III -

Sam drank his cappuccino slowly, looking at several books at once. He was
trying to figure out which one to get. At first, he decided to get all of
them -- those were art books, and he loved art. Then, he looked at them more
closely and realized that quite a few pictures in all the books were the
same. Therefore, he was sitting by one of the round tables in the
bookstore's café, all but scratching his head for the last hour or so,
trying to figure out which book would be the best choice.

He blinked when nothing came out of his cup and took off the plastic lid. He
tutted with slight annoyance when he realized that the cup was empty. There
was nothing left but the foam. Sam liked foam so he licked off as much as he
could, and finally, threw the cup into a trashcan that was sitting
conveniently close to his table. He looked at the books, sighed, and got up,
thinking of getting another cappuccino. He was walking slowly towards the
café counter, digging in his pockets for money, and concentrating on that
task mostly. He didn't even look up until he ran into someone rather hard
and somebody's heavy books landed on his toes.

"Oh, God!" someone exclaimed almost panicky. "God, I am so sorry! I didn't
even look where the hell I was going! Are you all right? I am so sorry...!"

Sam blinked and lifted his gaze from those damn books that made several of
his toes go unpleasantly numb. It was a young woman who bumped into him; she
seemed to be no older than twenty-one, maybe even less. Her frame was rather
small, and Sam blinked again. "How in hell was she able to carry all those
books?" he thought dumbfoundedly.

"Are you all right?" she asked again with genuine worry, her fingers tugging
on the strand of her dark-bronze hair mercilessly.

"Yeah," Sam nodded finally. "Yeah, I am all right, don't worry about it... I
wasn't looking where I was going either so it's all good..." he shrugged
with a smile, and her frown smoothed out somewhat.

"Okay," she nodded with visible relief and let go of her hair, tucking the
strand behind her small ear. She lowered herself into a crouch and started
picking up her books.

Sam immediately started doing the same.

"Here," he said, grabbing several heaviest-looking volumes off the floor.
"Let me get those..."

Young woman (a girl, really) looked at him with a quick smile, which looked
even more relieved than her nod several minutes earlier.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, and Sam nodded with a small smile.

"Yeah," he said with a shrug. "Those books are heavy," he said after placing
them onto the table. "How in the world were you able to drag them all the
way here?"

"With lots and lots of silent cursing," she said seriously, and Sam laughed
at that. "I am serious," she nodded energetically. "That's why I wasn't
looking where I was going... God, I am so sorry about..."

"Don't worry about it!" Sam interrupted her with impatient hand wave. "Let
me help you with all these books... Are you buying all of them?"

"I haven't decided yet," she sighed. "I will probably end up buying a couple
of them, but I am not sure which ones..." She glanced at the café. "I wanted
to get a cup of coffee and look through all of them..." She grinned, and
that made her look even younger. "Coffee makes my brain function a hell of a
lot better!"

Sam hemmed at that.

"Funny," he said with a smile. "I was doing exact same thing..." he nodded
at his table with a small pile of art books on top of it. "I was on my way
to get another cappuccino because I couldn't figure out which book to
get..."

"Oh yeah?" she wrinkled her nose. "You like art?" she asked after looking at
his books.

"Love it," he nodded seriously. "The thing with these books is that all of
them have quite a few pictures that are the same, you see... So I was trying
to figure out which one would be the best choice..." He looked at her books.
"Magic...?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Oh," she sighed. "I know nothing about magic... Unfortunately," she added
in a second. "I am beyond amateur... But I have to write the essay on the
early history of magical arts and rapid development of the usage of the
streams, which..." She stopped talking when she saw his expression. "Oh,
never mind!" she laughed. "Believe me, the topic is insanely boring, but
it's my core class, so I don't really have a choice in the matter..."

"What is your major?" Sam was genuinely curious.

"History," she nodded. "I love history; could care less about this
particular class..." she nodded at the books. "...but I love history," she
finished with a nod.

"Would you like to look at the books together?" Sam offered, and she bit her
lip slightly, and finally, nodded slowly.

"Yeah," she said and smiled. "Sure! I am Evelienne," and she stretched out
her hand. "Call me Eve," she nodded when she noticed his blink. "Believe me,
I keep asking my parents why the hell they gave me such a bizarre name every
single weekend. I prefer to pester them on the weekends because this way,
they don't have `I have to go to work' excuse," she nodded again, and Sam
laughed.

"I am Sam," he shook her palm and liked her strong grip. "Let me get your
coffee!"

"Are you kidding me?" she snorted. "I am the one who should get you coffee!
After all, I am the one who almost broke your feet...! I didn't break
anything, did I?" she added quickly, the worried frown snaking its way back
onto her forehead.

"No," he laughed again. "But I would like to get your coffee... You should
do me that favor," he nodded thoughtfully. "After all, you almost broke my
feet..."

She laughed at that loudly and quickly covered her mouth with her palm.

"Man," she glanced around. "I can never control my laughter... I am always
too loud," she sighed. "I always get yelled at in the libraries and such..."

"Cream or sugar?" Sam asked seriously, even though he felt like laughing. He
liked this girl. She sighed in defeat.

"Plenty of cream," she nodded. "No sugar."

"Okay," he said simply and walked to the café counter.

When he got their drinks and returned to her table, he realized that she
managed to push both of their tables together and now all their books had
enough space.

"Good thinking," he said and handed her the cup.

"Thank you," she nodded seriously. "For the compliment too," she added.

"Wasn't a compliment," he shook his head. "True statement."

"Okay," she drank some coffee. "I'll bite... So," she looked at the pile of
his books. "Which one has the most amount of the repetitive pictures in it?"

"This one," Sam immediately pointed at one of the volumes. "But it also has
several pictures that I really like, which are not repetitive at all..."

"Hmmm..." she said thoughtfully. "That makes it more difficult..."

"I'd say," he agreed. "I am thinking of just getting all of them, would be
easier."

"Probably," she said with doubt. "But maybe you could discard one of them...
Let me see..." she picked up one of the books and studied it for several
minutes. "Hmm..." she said finally and grabbed another one. "Okay," she said
after yet more minutes of thoughtful silence. "This is challenging..." She
glanced at Sam. "I like it!" she nodded energetically, and he laughed.

...They sat in the café until they heard an announcement from the speakers
that the store would be closing in fifteen minutes. Sam blinked and looked
at his watch. It was fifteen minutes to ten, he realized with surprise. Eve
copied his movement and expression to the t, without even noticing it.

"Good God!" Eve said in almost shaken voice. "I was supposed to start on
that stupid essay tonight!"

"Sorry about that," Sam said quickly, and she waved her hand.

"No big," she said carelessly. "It's not due until next Friday, and I am the
queen of procrastination, so nothing new!"

"I'll just get all of them," Sam shrugged and picked up his books. "What
about you?"

She looked at her volumes thoughtfully for a couple of minutes. Finally, she
grabbed two of them (smaller ones) and stood up.

"These will do," she nodded.

"Need help with those?" Sam asked seriously and she shot him a dirty look.

"Just how helpless do I look, exactly?" she asked in a low voice, and Sam
simply nodded solemnly. She snorted rather loudly and immediately glanced
around with guilty look on her face. "I am fine," she said finally, after
making sure that she didn't draw any angry attention to herself. "Thank you
though," she added with a nod.

He looked at her thoughtfully for a minute or two.

"What?" she frowned with puzzlement after he just stood there, saying
nothing.

"Would you like to have coffee again sometimes?" he asked finally. "Without
the books?"

Now it was her turn to eye him thoughtfully. Finally, she nodded.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "I'd like that..."

"Great," he smiled widely. "Let's get the books!"

"Ummm..." she said, and he looked at her with a silent question. "Would you
like my number?" she asked in a low voice, and Sam blinked. `Duh!' was the
only thought in his head right now. He couldn't believe that he didn't ask
for her phone number. He would've slapped his forehead but his hands were
full with books, so he just smiled sheepishly instead.

"Yes, please," he said mildly, and she grinned and sat her books on the
table once more.

She dug in her backpack for a minute, fished out a pen and a small notebook,
wrote something on one of the pages, and ripped that page out. She folded
the paper carefully and tucked it into Sam's shirt pocket.

"Thank you," Sam said as mildly as before. "Let's get the books..."

...They got the books in less than ten minutes, and he walked her to her
car. She unlocked the door and shoved the bag with books and her backpack
into the back seat.

"Thanks for coffee, Sam," she said when she straightened up. "Sorry about
your toes," she added quickly.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled. "I'll talk to you tomorrow...?"

"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "Will you?"

"Yeah," he nodded seriously. "I will..."

"Okay," she smiled as well and stretched out her hand. "Good night, Sam..."

He shook her warm fingers.

"Good night, Eve," he said, and she flashed him another smile, got into her
car, and drove away, after giving him a small wave.

He watched her car drive out of the parking lot, and then he made his way to
his own vehicle that was the only car in the lot by now.

****

When he got home, it was almost 10:30. He saw that the lights were on in the
living room, and winced slightly, wondering if Gabriel or Desmond would
start interrogating him about where the hell he was so late at night. It
wasn't *that*late, he knew that, but he would always be home before nine in
the evening before. He opened the door carefully and walked inside. Specter
immediately bounced towards him full speed. Desmond and Gabriel were playing
cards, and judging by a pile of bills in front of Desmond, and gloomy
expression on Gabriel's face, the ex-assassin was on a hell of a winning
streak tonight. Both men glanced up at him and nodded simultaneously without
saying anything. Sam relaxed and bent down to kiss Specter's wet nose.

"Kid," Desmond sighed after he did that and after Specter licked Sam's face
frantically. "You *do *know what he does with that tongue, don't you?"

"Yeah, well," Sam shrugged. "You also know what Gabriel does with his
tongue, but you still kiss him, don't you?"

Desmond hemmed and looked at him with a smirk.

"Rayhe doesn't lick his own..." he started saying when Gabriel thumped him
on the head.

"Shut up," he commanded, and Sam laughed. He looked at Desmond more closely
and narrowed his eyes.

"What?" Desmond asked him absent-mindedly, watching Rayhe like a hawk when
the other man reached for another card.

"Are you glowing?" Sam asked with stifled laughter. Desmond blinked and
looked at him. "You are glowing!" Sam nodded and looked at Gabriel. "Holy
crap, you are both glowing! Good God, how many times a week do you do it?!
I've heard you going at it last night...! And the night before... And the
night before that... And..."

"Don't make me buy you more ear plugs, kid," Desmond interrupted him in a
very dangerous voice and stabbed his cigarette in the ashtray. Sam shook his
head.

"You know," he said thoughtfully. "Usually, when people live together for a
couple of years, they kinda cool off... Not completely but kinda..." he
shrugged when he saw Desmond's look. "Well, from what I've heard, anyway,"
he said without feeling a slightest bit uncomfortable. "But you two..." he
grinned. "I swear, you do it more often than you did two years ago!"

"We do, actually," Gabriel nodded thoughtfully, and now, it was Desmond's
turn to thump him. Rayhe winced slightly. "Well," he shrugged. "It's
true...! Okay, knock it off!" he winced again. He glanced at Sam sideways.
"I can't get enough of this bastard..." he shifted his gaze to Desmond.
"Thump me again, and you are dead!" he promised in a low voice.

"Wasn't going to," Desmond grinned. "Call!"

Gabriel blinked at that very rapidly and looked at his cards.

"Son of a..." he growled and threw his cards on the table. "That's it," he
said gloomily while shoving more bills into Desmond's outstretched hand. "I
am not playing any more tonight... Tough...!" he added after seeing his
mate's expression. "I am done with losing for tonight! I will get my money
back tomorrow," he nodded, ignoring Desmond's snort. "Black stripe, that's
all..."

"Right," Desmond muttered and swiped the bills off the table in one smooth
move. "So, kid..." he paused and lit a cigarette. "Where the hell have you
been so late at night?"

Sam coughed. He figured that there would be no interrogation this night.

"It's not *that *late," he said reasonably. "It's not even eleven at
night...! At the bookstore," he sighed after seeing Desmond's look.

Desmond looked pointedly at Sam's empty hands, and the young man sighed
again.

"Left it in the car," he said mildly. "Hold on..." he rolled his eyes and
went outside to get his books.

He came back several minutes later and handed the bag with books to Desmond.
The older man looked inside, studied the receipt for a bit, and hemmed.

"You *did *buy these at five minutes before ten," he said, returning the bag
to Sam. "Met someone interesting?"

"W-why...?" Sam stuttered.

"Because you are glowing," Desmond said poisonously. "Spill, kid!"

"There is nothing to spill," Sam shrugged and grabbed the bag out of
Desmond's hands. "I was trying to figure out which book would be the best to
buy, that's all... Then I decided to buy all of them," he nodded after
seeing Desmond's expression. It seemed like the ex-assassin tried his best
not to roll his eyes. "Things like that take time, you know!" he said
defensively, having no idea why he didn't want to tell either man about Eve.

"Right..." Desmond muttered and lit another cigarette. "That dog of yours is
fed, by the way," he added after a second, and Sam stared at him without
blinking.

"Oh dear God..." he muttered. "*You *fed him...?"

"As if," Gabriel snorted immediately. "I did."

Sam blinked.

"Thanks, Gabriel..." he nodded. "Well, good night guys... Specter, come on!"

The dog dropped his unfinished bone and ran after Sam into the bedroom. Sam
was ready for bed fifteen minutes later, after he brushed his teeth and
found his pajamas. Specter immediately jumped up on the bed and curled next
to Sam's feet.

"Just don't do it on the couch," Sam muttered. "I don't think Desmond would
be ecstatic about that..."

Specter shoved his nose under Sam's left foot and let out a deep satisfied
sigh. Sam closed his eyes and was about to slide into sleep, when he heard
muffled moans from behind the closed door. He opened his eyes and blinked
several times.

"You gotta be kidding me..." he muttered and plopped a pillow on top of his
head.