Date: Sun, 2 May 2010 17:06:16 -0600
From: Katya_Dee <concertoind@gmail.com>
Subject: The Year of the Salamander, chapter 6

   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.




- VI -



            The play turned out to be quite entertaining, and after it was
finished, Sam and Eve migrated to the other area of the park where they
discovered jugglers and mimes. Sam didn't really like mimes -- they always
gave him creeps -- but Eve seemed to enjoy the show, so he just shrugged to
himself and watched the silent performers with a small sigh.

   ...They spent the entire day in that park, and Sam didn't look at his
watch even once. He did it finally after he realized that it was rather dark
by now. His eyes widened slightly when the watch informed him that it was
9:45.

   "Good God..." he muttered. "It's almost ten in the evening," he explained
when Eve looked at him with a silent question. Her eyes widened just like
his did a minute ago.

   "Seriously?" she asked in disbelief, and Sam nodded and demonstrated his
watch. "Holy crap..." she muttered. "I better head home, Sam..."

   "Yeah," he sighed. "Me too. Do you live alone or with someone?"

   "Technically, with someone," she nodded. "I have a roommate..."

   "Technically?" Sam repeated.

   "Yeah," she said after they started slowly walking towards the park's
front gate. "He shows up at the apartment maybe twice a month. He stays at
his girl's place mostly. He pays his half of the rent though, so I am not
complaining," she shrugged.

   "Why won't he just move in with her?" Sam asked with a small frown. "Why
is he wasting money on rent?"

   "Beats me," Eve answered seriously. "Oh, God..." she closed her eyes for
a few seconds when they got to Sam's car.

   "What?" he asked.

   "Apples," she muttered and opened her eyes.

   "Oh, right..." Sam winced slightly. This time, he didn't even say
anything about him hoping the smell weakened by now; he could smell those
waves of scent rolling through the slightly open windows. "Desmond is going
to kill me," he thought and said nothing.

   "Just hope that Delvin loves apples," Eve said when they were driving out
of the parking lot.

   "Delvin...?" Sam frowned.

   "The guy who owns the car..."

   "Oh..." Sam hemmed. "Desmond, not Delvin... And I doubt that he loves
apples *that *much," he added bitterly.

   "I don't think anyone loves apples *that *much," Eve snorted, and Sam
agreed with her.

   ...They got to Eve's car in twenty minutes or so, and she got out of
Sam's vehicle rather hastily. Sam sighed and climbed outside as well.

   "It's not you I am getting away from," Eve said quickly. "It's..."

   "...the apples," they said at the same time and laughed together.

   "Right," she said after they stopped laughing. "Today was really great,
Sam... Thanks," she finished in a soft voice, eyeing him from underneath her
dark-bronze bangs.

   "Yeah," he nodded without looking away from her eyes.

   They stood in awkwardly tense silence for several minutes, and then Sam
took a step forward and carefully put his hands on her shoulders. She didn't
move away, and she didn't flinch, as he was afraid she would. He leaned
closer to her face and closed his eyes when his mouth found hers. Her lips
were warm and very soft. She sighed somewhat shakily into him and parted her
lips slightly, inviting him in tentatively. He immediately accepted the
invitation and started carefully exploring her mouth with slow licks and
caress.

   Eve's hands slowly made their way onto his shoulders, and one hand kept
moving until it buried its fingers in Sam's hair after pulling off his hair
band. He loved the feeling of her fingers in his hair; he loved it so much
that he shivered. She immediately caught his reaction and started caressing
his head, running her fingers through his dirty-blond long strands. He
moaned softly into her mouth and she pressed herself harder against him, her
tongue becoming bolder with each minute. Sam slid his hands off her
shoulders and wrapped both of his arms around her, feeling her heartbeat as
if it was his own.

   They kissed for what felt like an eternity, and Sam didn't want this to
end. Finally, Eve pulled away, and he hated the feeling.

   "I..." she drew a quick breath. "Sam, I gotta go..."

   "Okay," he said with a small sigh. "Okay... I'll see you tomorrow...?"

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

   He smiled at that.

   "I'll see you tomorrow," he nodded, and pulled her closer, locking his
mouth on hers once again.

   This time, it was Eve who moaned softly, and then she pulled away for
real.

   "I really gotta go, Sam..." she said with regret. "It's late and I need
to stop by a gas station on the way home..."

   "Okay," he sighed deeper this time. "Good night, Eve..."

   "Good night, Sam..." She looked like she was about to start kissing him
again, but then she shook her head, sighed, and got into her car.

   He watched her car disappear in the dark, sighed once more, and returned
to his apples.



****



   He was not too far from the same gas station he stopped by on his way to
Blue Rain, when suddenly, there was a gunshot sound, and then the car jerked
violently and skidded to the right.

   "Shit!" Sam exclaimed and grabbed the wheel tightly, making sure he
doesn't slam on the brakes with full force.

   The car whined and screeched, and finally, it came to a reluctant stop on
the side of the road. Sam took a deep breath, threw the gear into `Park,'
killed the engine, and got out of the car. The front right tire was
shredded.

   "Son of a bitch..." Sam muttered. He went towards the open door of the
car, after patting his jeans' pockets absent-mindedly, and remembering that
he left his phone on the passenger's seat. He dove inside the car, but
before he grabbed his phone, he frowned slightly, as if remembering
something, and popped the trunk open. He emerged from the car and quickly
walked towards the back of it. He looked into the trunk with great hope,
praying silently for Desmond to have a spare tire. Of course, that would be
too convenient. There was a half-empty bottle of water, a canister of
window-cleaner, a dirty rug, and that's it.

   "Goddammit..." Sam muttered with frustration and slammed the trunk shut.

   He walked towards the open door of the car, and suddenly, there was a
sound of someone's engine behind him. A minute later, the other vehicle
stopped next to Sam, and the window rolled down.

   "Car trouble?" someone asked in a deep voice.

   "Yeah," Sam said, wondering why he feels uneasy all of a sudden. "Tire
blew..."

   "We can help," the same voice smirked.

    Sam blinked. `We'?

   The doors of the car opened and three men climbed out.

   "I have a spare," the driver nodded at his trunk. "You can have it."

   "Umm..." Sam said uncomfortably. "Thanks... Are you sure...?"

   "Yeah," the driver nodded with a small smile that Sam didn't like a
single bit.

   "On one condition though..." The smile grew bigger. "A blow for a
blow..." He nodded at the shredded tire. "...how's that? I think it's fair,"
he nodded again.

   "Excuse me...?" Sam blinked, and the man laughed.

   "Come on, kid," he said and stepped closer, both of his companions
following him silently. "You have a hell of a mouth... It looks like it
could suck my brains out..."

   "Fucking A..." Sam thought desperately and threw a frantic look around.
There was nobody in sight; he was alone in the middle of the dark road with
those three creeps who were getting closer and closer to him.

   Sam knew how to take care of himself even though he didn't look like the
type. Both -- Desmond and Gabriel -- taught him quite a few moves over the
past two years, and Sam felt confident about his safety. Until now. He had
great doubts that he would be able to defeat all three of them.

   "Come on, kid..." the driver repeated, and suddenly, he moved with
unexpected speed, and before Sam could back-pedal, the man's hand grabbed
onto his arm tight enough to leave a bruise.

   Sam's fear grew so quickly that it made him nauseous. "Not again!" he
thought wildly and headbutted the man in the face. There was a dry crunching
sound, and the hand slid off Sam's arm. The man groaned something
unintelligible and pressed his palms against his face.

   "Oh, you little shit!" one of his companions cried and lunged at Sam.

   Sam fought with desperation of a cornered rat. He managed to land several
heavy kicks and blows on both men who were attacking him at the same time,
thus causing some furious and loud cursing. He tried to back up into the
road, hoping that maybe he could run, but then a heavy fist collided with
the back of his neck, and Sam saw the stars for a few seconds. Someone
kicked the back of his knees hard, and he collapsed on the ground with a
loud groan. His arms were twisted very unkindly behind his back, and Sam
groaned again, when someone slapped the back of his head.

   "You little bastard..." the first man growled, and his voice sounded
nasal because of the broken nose. "I am going to fuck you until you can't
scream anymore... And then I'll fuck you some more," he added furiously.

   He grabbed a fistful of Sam's hair and jerked his head back. Sam screamed
out involuntarily. "Open that mouth of yours, bitch," the man hissed. "Open
it! Or I swear to God, I'll do it for you, and you won't like that...!" He
jerked his hair again and Sam squeezed his eyes shut, involuntary tear
escaping through his eyelashes.

   He pressed his lips tight, clenching his teeth, and when the man slapped
his face, his head flew sideways, and his ears started to ring.

   "I said open your mouth, bitch...!" the man growled, and Sam prepared
himself for another slap, when suddenly, there was someone's voice that
sounded vaguely familiar.

   "What the fuck?" the voice said incredulously.

   The grip on Sam's hair tightened.

   "Get the fuck outta here!" the man growled. "Unless you wanna join this
little bitch..."

   The voice started to laugh; the laughter didn't sound humorous, however.
The man sounded like he was getting more and more pissed off.

   "Three against one...?" he squeezed through his dark laughter.
"Brilliant! And judging by the way all of you look, he managed to kick the
shit out of you before you finally got him down... Let him go, fucktard!"

   "Get him," the man growled and jerked Sam's hair again. Sam felt like his
scalp was about to pop off his head.

   There was a sound of rushed footsteps, more laughter, and suddenly, there
was an agonizing shriek of pain, and Sam's hair was free. He shook his head
and swayed forward. He slammed both of his hands into the ground before he
fell onto his face.

   "Oh, fuck me!" the man who jerked Sam's hair a minute ago, screamed in
pure horror.

   "In your dreams, you piece of shit!" the vaguely familiar voice laughed
again. "See, I am quite pissed off right now, and it's never a good thing...
You have five seconds before I let myself go..."

   Sam shook his head again and looked up. What he saw made him blink
rapidly. The owner of the vaguely familiar voice was standing with his arms
spread out slightly, flames streaming from his fingertips. One of the men
was frantically slapping his chest with panicking whimpering. Apparently, he
got burned, Sam realized. He looked at the flaming stranger and blinked
again, as rapidly as before. It was the same guy from the gas station; the
one Sam bumped into this morning, causing him to drop his beer. His eyes
were completely yellow right now, fire ripping the darkness apart. The black
pupils made his eyes look beyond eerie. Sam thought that he was right back
at that gas station when he thought that the guy's eyes lightening rapidly
was *not *a good thing.

   The man didn't have to repeat himself -- all three of Sam's attackers all
but dove into their car, and a second later, the vehicle took off so quick
that the tires let out a shriek of angry surprise. The man took a deep
breath and closed his eyes. Sam just stared at him when all the flame
suddenly started running back to him, absorbing itself into the man's
fingers. Finally, he took another deep breath and opened his eyes. Now that
the fire was gone, it was dark again, and Sam couldn't see his eyes, but he
was pretty positive that the color was back to normal.

   "You okay?" the guy asked in somewhat normal voice and walked closer.

   "Yeah..." Sam breathed and grabbed onto the outstretched hand, expecting
it to be hot from the fire that was streaming out of it several minutes
earlier. The skin, however, was rather cool, and it felt good against Sam's
trembling fingers.

   "Son of a bitch..." the guy said in startled voice when Sam stood up, and
started to laugh softly once again; except now, his laughter didn't sound
pissed off, it was amused instead. "It's you!" he said after Sam looked at
him with a silent question. "Holy hell! There I was, fantasizing about beer,
figuring that I'll just walk here, and that there was no way in hell for me
to bump into you again and drop the damn beer..." He laughed again and shook
his head. "I guess it really is a sign," he muttered. "No more beer...
Damn," he sighed with regret, and Sam let out shaky laughter.

   The guy let go of Sam's hand and looked thoughtfully at the shredded
tire.

   "Let me guess," he said. "You don't have a spare?"

   "I do," Sam said seriously. "This is not my car."

   "Ah, that's right," the guy nodded. He frowned slightly and sniffed the
air. "Dear God..." he said with the same small frown. "Did you spray the
entire can in there?"

   Sam immediately knew that he was talking about `Winter Garden Apple' and
he sighed.

   "No," he said. "But apparently, I sprayed more than enough..."

   "Oh yeah..." Now the guy looked almost embarrassed. "I forgot to mention
that you should go easy on spraying, huh... Sorry about that..."

   "It's all right," Sam smiled, even though his knees were still shaking.
"It'll be gone eventually..." He frowned slightly. "It *will *be gone
eventually, right?" he asked in a low voice, and the guy snorted.

   "Yeah," he nodded. "It will be. Come on," he sighed. "Let's get to the
gas station. They will fix your tire... I am Blair, by the way," he added
and stretched his hand once more.

   "Sam," the young man nodded and shook his fingers.

   "Well, let's move it, Sam," the flame-thrower nodded slightly, and
started walking.

   Sam grabbed his phone from the car, locked the doors, and followed him.