Fandom:	Houston Knights
Series:	Other Authors
Rating:	NC-17
Pairing:	Joe/Levon
Archive:	Starwinder's
Title:	One Week
Author:	Falcone
e-mail:	Send email to strwndr@surfsouth.com and I will forward
Standard Disclaimer: Houston Knights belongs to Jay Bernstein and Michael Butler and Columbia Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fan fiction, written out of love for the shows. I am making no money off this. I have no money so please don't sue me. Any original characters who may appear in these stories are the property of the author.

One Week
By Falcone

Joey LaFiamma leaned on the door of the white Mercedes and shook. He had been in this god-forsaken stinking sauna of a hell-hole almost a whole week. Every drop of blood, every ounce of muscle and bone *ached* with the yearning to go home. Home, where he knew the territory, the language, even something as simple as the food... which here, was inedible. Everything either was barbecued or fried. The air stunk of oil refining by-products, the noise exhibited as "music" induced migraines... and the slime in the car had just tried to kill him. Only, the Texan had saved his life. Four shots, four shots, in a space no bigger than the palm of his hand, from a distance he would have considered impossible to put one... four.

He reached in on the seat and retrieved the gun and held it. He looked over at Lundy...who gave him a sour look with eyes a flat snake-gray and said, "You migh'ta told me you had friends in town, LaFiamma. I wouldn'a thought you were dogin' it," and looked away in disgust.

Joe felt his stomach roll and then cramp... if that had been Jamie.Ö If that had been Jamie, he would have been in for a rough ride that night. He had been the quarterback's pet tight-end, on the football team, roommate, (the upperclassmen were supposed to keep an eye on the lowerclassmen), lover, and last but far from least, cousin. He and Jamie had been getting it on since they figured out what those things were for. Girls were too difficult to have access to, but they had each other... then Jamie had graduated and gone into the family business, and been sent to Europe. 'N he had gone into law enforcement, instead of Law.

He sighed and crawled into the Jeep as Lundy handled the cleanup from the shooting... and continued to think, if that had been Jamie that he'd given so much grief to... Jamie would've beaten the shit out of him then ordered him on the floor and rode him half the night, without letting him cum. Wonderful what you could do with a shoestring, a smile twitched across his face, but god, he had been nothing but attitude and mouth to Lundy ever since he'd walked up to the slim, gorgeous.... His thoughts came to an abrupt halt... gorgeous? Where had that come from? A picture of Lundy leaning on the counter at the airport popped into his mind, one hip canted slightly, those tight, tight jeans that flaunted his masculinity like a coat of paint over the curve of his hip and down those long legs. A welcoming smile and warm sherry eyes, before he had snarled at Lundy, and the eyes went gray-brown.

Joe gulped, and turned his heated face into the wind coming over the windshield of the Jeep, [Oh damn] he thought. [I've got to work with him. I can't work with him.... I've given him so much attitude, and he has tried to make things as easy for me as he could.Ö] He sighed, they were pulling into the parking garage at Reisner, [I've got to apologize, if he'll let me. 'N then I'm gon'a see how long it will be before I can go home.] He snuck another glance at Lundy, who was busy driving and ignoring him. He sighed again as Lundy pulled into a parking space and hopped out of the Jeep. Looking back, he had been an absolute ass to the Texan.

He trailed like a black clad ghost in Lundy's wake up to their desks and Lundy started putting calls in. He heard Levon say something about 18 indictments then picked up on his voice, "Are you alright? Well, when you gon'a notify your face?" with a flash of grin.

He was flipping through some file in his lap, when Joe finally took a deep breath and said, "Glad you were there, man."

Lundy brushed it off, "No big deal," and continued to flip thorough the file.

Joe offered, "Sorry about your wife," quietly.

That got him a startled wary glance from eyes that had turned back to sherry. "Yeah," Levon returned quietly, "Sorry about your partner." He paused for a second then added, "You ever think it just might'a been his turn?"

Joe turned and looked at him, his eyes full of grief and pain... it had only been two weeks since Szabo had been murdered, and shook his head.

They both looked away. Levon kept fiddling with the file in his lap, then McLaren stuck her head out of her office and asked what they had found.

[Trust Lundy to come up with the link between Hale, Sanchez and Gordon. Like he had said, something about if it included a woman that was all it took.]

They got finished with the Lieutenant and started to leave. There was a message on his desk to meet his Uncle Mikey at one of the local hotels. He walked with Levon down to the Jeep and saw the flash of dismayed surprise on the Texan's face when he turned down the invitation to go get something to eat. One more thing he planned to let the Texan take out of his hide, just before he left. He shouldn'ta been so abrupt, Levon was trying to be friendly, and Joe would've given a lot, to be able to be friends... or more. Uncle Mikey had flown to Houston to tell him something in person, you couldn't be casual with the head of the Family. Somehow, he didn't think Lundy and Uncle Mikey would get along very well.

He walked and thought for hours before turning toward his apartment. What was he going to do? He was stuck in Houston for the foreseeable future. What about Lundy? He owed Levon, owed him big time for covering his ass, when he had been such an asshole. He knew how he wanted to pay him back... let him... if he would... take it out of his hide... to, crudely, screw him blind... if he would, suddenly Joe had a very healthy respect for Lundy's marksmanship. He really didn't want his partner, what an odd feeling, Lundy was a partner, his partner, to shoot him for unwelcome sexual advances.

He sighed as he walked up the steps into his building, and went up to the pool. Distract himself, have a warm body in his bed, if not the one he wanted.

_____________________________________________________________

The next day started with Lundy banging on his door for breakfast, a small war for lunch and wrestling his frenzied partner for dinner.

[Damn,] he thought, [Holding Lundy back from the burning car without hurting him had been like wrestling with a wildcat!] He handed the AK 47 off to an evidence technician and bounced slightly on his toes.

Adrenaline surged through his body, making him twitchy. Jamie... Jamie would've eased him back to earth, smoothed him out, helped him calm down... Jamie was in Amsterdam. He sighed.

There was an "Eagle" in Chicago, the gay clubs were in a number of cities in the northeast, maybe there was one in Houston. They should be in the phone book, and he'd almost gotten the streets in downtown Houston memorized well enough to find the shops he wanted within an easy, easy being relative, walk of the apartment. First, though, he had to take care of Lundy.

"You all right?" He asked as he swung his leg in the driver's seat of the Jeep.

Lundy ignored him. Then he nodded, a time or two.

"Might want'a notify your face." Joe said in a heavy Texas drawl.

Lundy just turned and looked at him.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked more gently.

Lundy just shrugged and said heavily, "We got to do reports."

"Can't they wait till tomorrow?"

"Sooner started, sooner finished."

Well, he couldn't argue with that. But back in Chicago, he and Szabo had let paperwork wait until the next day, after a bust like they had made tonight. He started to say something, until he glanced at Lundy's face as he was starting the Jeep. He looked so tired and sad, Joe didn't want to add a single drop of grief to the load he already carried.

He asked quietly, "How do I get back to Houston?"

Lundy roused up enough to get him back on the expressway to Houston, then lapsed back into the seat, his shoulders rounded, his eyes studying the night Joe drove thorough. He didn't say a word about food, Joe's driving, the radio turned off, anything at all.

Joe had a suspicion Lundy wasn't really aware of who drove his precious Jeep. He pulled carefully into Lundy's regular space at Reisner and parked evenly between the white lines. Levon didn't notice. He just crawled out of the Jeep and plodded in and up to their desks. He didn't look around, or acknowledge anyone, just sat down with his hat pulled low and typed.

Joe ghosted along behind, watching Lundy, not sure of what to say or do. Finally, he got a cup of coffee and sat down at his own desk and started typing, occasionally glancing at his partner.

Lundy ignored him completely. He finished typing his report, signed it, got up and put it in the basket for the Lieutenant to read the next morning and walked back to the desk and started putting things away to leave. "When did you get here, LaFiamma?"

Joe started to correct his usual mispronunciation of his name until he glanced up into Lundy's dull eyes. "I drove." He said dryly, holding up Levon's keys.

Lundy didn't come back with the expected retort. He normally gave as good as he got, sometimes better, but there was something bad wrong here. "Oh" was all he said, as he reached over and took the keys from Joe. He dropped them in his jacket pocket and walked out.

Joe watched with his jaw dropped and Lundy had almost gotten on the elevator before he hopped up and jogged out, "Hey Lundy!"

Levon stopped and turned slightly to face Joe. "What?" softly.

"Where you headed?"

"Home, I guess," although he didn't look Joe in the eye.

"Uh, you want'a go get a bite to eat?" Joe asked hesitantly.

Lundy paused a second, as if he had to think about it, "Not tonight." He said quietly, stepped into the elevator, and was gone.

Joe turned to the stairs and raced down, only to see the Jeep pause before it turned into traffic on the street. [But Lundy had turned the wrong way to go home.] He turned after watching Lundy disappear and caught the elevator back up, finished his report quickly, turned it in, checked an address in the Houston phone book, locked up and left.

He started to go to the apartment, but something made him change his mind, and he headed for the address from the phone book. It really wasn't many blocks down and over, if you were used to jogging 5 to 10 miles, and he covered it with reasonable speed. He didn't understand his own urgency, until he cut through the alley behind the Houston "Eagle" and found his partner's Jeep. He hurried, then to the front door and in, the bar to one side and a dance floor to the other. He produced his "Eagle" membership from Chicago and paid the door fee.

He walked over to the bar and asked the bartender, "Have you seen a blond man come in, in the last little bit, clean shaven, has on boots, jeans and a plaid shirt, light colored western hat? Looks like he might of just gotten off work at one of the refineries."

The man shook his head, no.

"Mind if I look around?"

"Help yourself" he shrugged.

Joe walked around the corner where the pool tables were, one man was playing alone, but it wasn't Levon. He looked around a few more minutes but he wasn't here.

He went back to the bartender, "Is there another club anywhere around near here?"

The other bartender at the far end walked up and gave him a faintly disapproving look. "The Black Saddle is one block over across the alley. It's pretty rough, though."

"Rough as in... leather?" Joe asked, his worry obvious.

Both of the men nodded. "It's no place to go alone." One offered.

"OK, thanks." Joe hurried out the door, headed for the other bar. He expected trouble, he really wasn't dressed to be invading a leather bar. But then, neither was Levon. He pushed his hair back off his forehead and thought as he jogged across the alley... he was a cop, he'd do the cop thing, at least long enough to see if Lundy was there.

The bouncer who opened the door was one of the biggest men he'd seen so far in Houston. The guy made Chicken look small.

"HPD" LaFiamma said quietly. I'm looking for a guy, might of come in a little bit ago, 5'10 or 6', clean shaven, blond, boots, jeans, plaid shirt, vest." He was aware that the description covered an awful lot of men.

"Yeah, boy came in awhile ago. Been sitting off to himself. Seems real unsociable." he rumbled.

"Where?"

The man gave him a wary look.

"I'm not trying to roust anybody, this guy is a killer, blond, beautiful and mean." Joe lied, trying to remember what would be sins in this group.

The big bouncer crooked a finger at Joe and led him around the door. Joe was well aware he stood out like the proverbial sore thumb in his knitted silk sweater, but he had to check. Like so many of these places, it was laid out in an "L" shape, with the bar and bathrooms filling up the missing corner. Thank god, there weren't many people there, yet. He looked around the corner, [Holy Mary, Mother'o'god], Levon sat at a corner table, sideways to the wall. His hat brim up in a chair, the blond hair glowing in the dim light and his belt lay on the table.

Joe gulped. Levon was announcing he was up for grabs to anyone who wanted him, and he wanted Discipline. Or, in other words, he wanted someone to beat the shit out of him, then screw him.

There was an empty shot glass on the table and an empty beer mug. He was working on another shot glass.

[Tequila and beer chasers, ugh!] Joe thought. [What's the best way to play this? Mock arrest the idiot or play the lover?] Joe could feel the swirling excitement in his body begin to sharpen, what he wanted to do, was throw the stupid bastard over the table and take him! Comin' in here, putting his belt out on the table, someone could hurt him bad!

[Lundy isn't paying any attention to what's going on around him.] Joe quickly pulled the edges of his black jacket together and zipped it. He pulled one of his .45's and glanced down to make sure the safety was on before he started moving slowly around the wall. Normally that would have set off every one of his partner's alarms, but he was ignoring everything but the glass he was turning between his hands.

The beautiful fool needed a partner if he was going to do this often. Then Joe made up his mind, [Lundy is NOT coming in here again! If he feels like he needs to be beat on for some reason, well, I'll figure a way to provide, without risking his long elegant neck!]

Joe moved quietly, not watching Levon directly, just moving slow and easy until he was in his partner's blind spot. Then he moved in a few silent strides right in behind him, and slid the barrel of the .45 down his neck under his jaw behind the thick curtain of golden curls. Even if the weapon went off, it would do no more than burn his skin, rather than blow his thick head off.

"Lantrey, you're under arrest!"

Levon jerked in startlement as his head snapped around to challenge.

"You have..." Levon's face went from placid to outraged in heartbeats. "...the right..." He started to ask what the hell Joe thought he was doing. "...to remain silent..." And Joe clipped him squarely on the point of his jaw with the .45. "...and I suggest you do so."

Levon dropped back against the table, out cold, and Joe quickly mumbled the rest of the Miranda rights as he tucked the gun away. He flipped his partner over on his face and handcuffed him. Then he grabbed the belt off the table and wrapped it back around Lundy's waist and buckled it loosely on the first hole. He grabbed Levon's hat and crammed it back on his head as he pulled Lundy up.

Joe was surprised to distinctly feel his partner's ribs as he put his shoulder under the Texan's bony hip. There were more bones than he had expected to feel... especially considering the fight at Mickey Gilley's bar. Lundy had packed a solid punch, quick as a snake, or he wouldn't have marked Joe's face up so much, but without Joe's extra, solid muscle behind it. Hefting his partner on his shoulder, he couldn't weigh more than 150 maybe 160. He got Levon settled over his shoulder, one arm around his knees and turned around.

Several of the bigger men were beginning to look interested.

He quickly pulled his HPD shield out and flipped it open. "Anybody else want to come along for the ride?"

They moved back sullenly.

Joe heaved a sigh of relief. [OK, I got'cha, now, what am I gon'a do wit' cha?] He moved easily out of the bar followed by some interested and surprised eyes, back to the Jeep. By the time he got there he was glad for the weight lifting he had done for over half his life.

Lundy was getting heavy, and he was beginning to come to. He had gotten his partner's hips in the seat of the Jeep when he felt the first spasms shake his body.

Joe quickly stepped to the side and grabbed Lundy's shirt collar and the neck edge of the vest, yanking him sideways as he started to spew beer, tequila, bile and the few bits of food he'd eaten that busy day down the side of the Jeep and in a puddle on the ground. He waited patiently for Levon to either finish or work down to dry heaves, then he quickly shoved him back upright in the seat and fastened the seat belt trapping his still handcuffed wrists behind him.

He dug around for a second for the keys, getting a few uncoordinated twitches from his partner. He moved around to the drivers seat, started the Jeep and quickly headed for a safer part of downtown.

If he had been home in Chicago he could think of a dozen places to stash his partner, but here, well, the apartment was out. Chicken's was out. Reisner was completely out, he wasn't trying to get his partner fired for being D&D in a gay leather bar... anyway, he hadn't been disorderly, just drunk. He was trying to rescue the idiot. And there was still the question of why had he put his belt out on the table? Begged for a whipping? Did he feel that guilty about Rose Ellen?

Joey shivered. He didn't think that his need to protect Lundy was because of Szabo's death. He drove up Westhymer until he was almost to the freeway, then he had a thought... he picked up the mike.

"This is LaFiamma. I was supposed to meet Lundy at his house, and I don't have directions."

The girl on dispatch laughed at him for a second, then she gave him concise and professional directions.

"I can't raise Sgt. Lundy." she said, distressed.

Joey looked over at his semi-concious partner and said, "That's all right, he's probably down in the barn... out." and hung up the mike. He could hear Levon muttering curses as he drove. Oh, well. The directions were clear and concise and it didn't take long to find Lundy's house. Joe watched as he drove, it looked like Lundy's neighbors were gone, driveways empty, houses dark. [There, Lundy's name on the mail box.] He turned down the driveway and went around to the back, parking on the grass.

Lundy raised his head up and tried to snarl, "Damn you LaFiamma, you get these damned handcuffs offen me!"

"What ta hell did you think you were doin', laying your belt out in a leather bar. You out'a your mind, Lundy?" Joe yelled back as he open handed shoved Levon's shoulder, jarring his entire body.

Levon couldn't stop it, the sudden jolt made him retch again, dribbles splattering down his chin and onto his shirt. He moaned, "You don't understand!"

"I UNDERSTAND MY PARTNER WAS TRYING TO GET HIS HEAD BEAT IN!" He roared back at Levon, as he popped the seat belt and shoved Lundy out the opening onto the grass.

He hopped out on his side and stormed around to where Levon was trying to catch his breath. "YOU WANT A WHIPPING, YOU TELL ME! He shouted as he grabbed the Texan, his hand wrapping almost all the way around Lundy's upper arm. He half dragged, half supported Levon as he hauled him into the hallway of the barn where he dropped him.

Joe looked around, one side was empty box stalls, the other storage, cabinets and shelves. He grabbed a couple of 10' nylon lead ropes and quickly knotted the tails together. He flipped the heavy snap up and over the isle beam so that 9 feet of 3/4" nylon lead rope with its heavy bull snap hung over each side of the beam. Then he turned back to the Texan who slowly writhed in the dirt, coughing and retching.

Joe reached in his pocket for the key to the handcuffs, then grabbed the packet of Lundy's shirt and yanked the tails out of his jeans as he pulled the snaps open. He peeled the torn shirt and vest off Levon's shoulder and down his arm as far as it would go... unlocked one handcuff... jerked the shirt and vest off his wrist and hand and yanked him face down... peeled them off the other shoulder, wrist and hand, over the handcuff still locked around that wrist. Flipped him back over and locked the loose handcuff back around his flopping wrist... so that his hands were cuffed in front of him. He grabbed both wrists in one hand and yanked him partially up and after a second of seeing how the snap worked, fastened it to the chain on the 'cuffs. A quick tug pulled the slack out of the impromptu rope and held Lundy mostly on tiptoe. Joe tied it off to a post and came back and grabbed one of Levon's feet to pull his boot off.

The Texan tried to kick him, but Joe just grabbed the other foot, too, leaving Lundy hanging by his wrists.

"God damn you, LaFiamma." Was about the only thing Joe could understand of Levon's cursing, between him retching and coughing. Surprisingly the boots slid off easily and the socks were peeled off too.

LaFiamma dropped his feet and grabbed for the waistband of the jeans and unbuttoned and unzipped in one motion. The loose belt got in his way and he quickly jerked it off, too, flipping it over his shoulder.

At that, Lundy shut completely up.

Joe grabbed the edges of the jeans and peeled them down Levon's legs, leaving them tangled around his ankles. Then he stepped back to view his prize.

The Texan hung by the handcuffs that dug into his wrists, head forced forward, his jaw clenched, eyes shut, every bone in his chest and back showed under the stretched ivory skin. The muscles in shoulders and arms were like a diagram in a doctor's textbook, belly pulled concave between his ribs and pelvis. His legs dangled from narrow hips slim, almost bony, with only a fine coat of blond hair with a small thatch of dark gold at his groin. For a second Joe couldn't even see his genitals, drawn up tight against his body. Then he realized, Lundy expected to be beaten, to be hurt, to be whipped. This was not sex play, not a turn-on. Expected to be beaten and raped. [Why, WHY, had he invited this?]

Joe pulled the belt off his shoulder and looked at it. At first glance, it was just a western belt, rich dark leather, with a braided trim along each edge. The standard palm sized, silver oval buckle. Then he turned it around, the buckle settled in the palm of his hand like it had been made to fit. He ran a finger along the braid and realized, it was plaited, like a whip and realized the damage the thing would do. It was inches too big for Lundy, he flipped it around his own bigger waist and it was still inches too big for him. He threw it on the floor, and moved toward his partner.

The light made the sweat on Lundy's skin glow, almost like pearl and Joe could see every scar, every imperfection... every line of small dots, [Connect the dots,] popped into his mind. [Where the thing on the floor had been used on him.] The traces across shoulders, chest, belly and back, legs... his entire body had the small fine scars that had to be years old... Joey felt sick. He couldn't add to this... he could not add to this.Ö He could not add to the collection of scars on the Texan's body. Mute testament to years of abuse... or one hell of a working over. He swallowed hard and moved over to the post where the end of the lead lines was fastened. He untied the end and wrapped it around his forearm several times then moved to Lundy's side. He slid his arm around the Texan's chest, catching him as he eased off on the rope with the other.

Lundy's arms dropped over his and he settled gently on the floor supporting Levon's body as he sat down crosslegged. He shifted the Texan so that he was braced between Joe's body and the arm around his shoulder as Joe unsnapped the lead line.

Lundy moaned.

LaFiamma dug around in his pocket and found the key to the handcuffs. A few quick turns had Levon's wrists free and Joe tucked the handcuffs away in his jacket pocket. He reached up and ran the back of his fingers across Lundy's cheek, it was wet with icy sweat and hot tears.

"Lundy... Levon, look at me."Joe commanded quietly.

Lundy's eyes opened at the command, but they were dilated to thin sherry rings by terror. He blinked blindly, and Joe realized he was trembling with fear and shock? Or maybe alcohol poisoning. He slid the other arm under Levon's knees and pulled him up into his lap, then put both arms around the thin shoulders and tucked his head in the hollow between Joey's shoulder and jaw. He started rocking, a slow comforting rhythm. [The bloused western shirts and jackets hid a lot.] More than Joe would have given them credit for. "Who whipped you?"

"C...C...C...Caroline's daddy came over the day af...af...af...after the f...f...f...funeral a...a...a...a...and beat me" he stuttered softly."S...S...S...Said I deserved it...f...f...f..f...for getting C...C...C...Caroline ...k...k..k...killed."

Joe's arms tightened. "Anyone else?" softly.

"M...M...M...M....My D...D...D...D...Daddy, a...a...after h...h...h...he'd been drinking." Lundy tucked his face tighter into the curve of Joe's neck, and started sobbing.

"If...if...I...hadn't been...at...the...Eagle..." The sobbing grew harsher.

The words went through Joe like a jolt of electricity. "What were you doing at the Eagle?"

"Helping Caroline's girlfriend."

Joe blinked, several times. "Who is she?" He asked in a soft neutral voice.

"S...S...S...Sandy's the owner...o...o...of the C...C...C...Cowgirl."

The crying was working down to an occasional sob, and Joe moved back a little only to have Levon burrow deeper into his shoulder, "Shuuush, I'm not going anywhere." He ran his hand down Lundy's back and side in a soothing sweep.

The Texan's skin was dripping icy sweat, and it was getting cool in the barn. He needed to move this party to the house before long, but the revelations were too important to understanding his partner. Right now, Lundy would give him any answer he asked for, and it would be the truth as far as he, Lundy, knew. Shock, alcohol, and some level of trust, would get him the answers to any questions he had. He was also aware that if he betrayed the Texan, at some point, he would probably kill him, or let him be killed. "How did you meet Caroline?"

"We was running buddies growing up... but then she never stopped just being a buddy...'n I thought girls 'n periods were disgusting. Me and Bobby were getting together... but we stayed friends all the way through high school. She went to TWU (Texas Women's University) and I went to A&M. She 'n Sandy wanted kids, without having a man underfoot... Sandy don't like men at all..." he stopped and coughed, then rambled on. "Me and Bobby were at the Eagle one night, and Sandy 'n Caroline stopped in to talk to the managerÖ. Something about a beer delivery they were having a problem with. I don't know..."

Joe kept up the gentle rubbing up and down Levon's back. "Who's Bobby?"

"We went to High School together, and roomed together in college. Then he got int'a his Daddy's oil business 'n he didn't have any time for me, anymore."

"You and he were lovers?"

"Uh, huna."

"How did you and Caroline get together?"

"Her family was on her case to get married and have kids...she wanted kids... 'n then she found out she couldn't have kids, and she started drinking more and more..." the tears started up again.

Joe judged they wouldn't last too long, this time, Lundy was too tired. "How much did you have to drink?"

"Four..."

"Four tequilas or four beers?"

"Uh huna."

Joe grimanced, Lundy needed food and rest. "Levon, we need to go in the house."

Lundy's breathing was getting deeper.

"Lundy, we need to go in the house."

"Umph" as he turned his face even deeper into the comfort of Joey's shoulder.

"Damn" Joe said resignedly. [The Cowboy is either out cold or asleep. He *still* needs food and sleep... and a shower... he stinks!]

Joe shifted around until he had one arm under Levon's knees and the other behind his neck, under his shoulder and worked his way around until he was standing up. He looked around, the shirt and vest were in a tangled knot where he had thrown them, the belt on the floor where he had dropped it.

He could hear a large animal moving around, outside, but didn't have a clue what to do for it. Lundy needed taking care of first. The whatever wouldn't die of thirst or starvation until Lundy could come out and take care of it.

He turned and walked across the yard and up on the porch. [Now, where in the hell were the keys? Lets' see,] Joe thought back, then sighed. [They're in the Jeeps' ignition.] He shifted the sleeping Texan higher in his arms and went back to the Jeep. [Yep, right there in the ignition, where I left them when I shoved Lundy out on the ground.] He worked his way around the steering wheel and fished them out, then went back up on the porch and sorted through them with the fingers of the freer hand until he found the one that fit the back door.

Surprisingly, there was only one lock. [One good kick would pop that old door wide open.] He thought. He looked around, kitchen... he walked through the doorway, aha, parlor and a davenport. He gently lay Levon down on the sofa and worked his tangled jeans and briefs off his ankles and dropped them on the floor. Then he covered him with the quilt folded on the back.

He went back in the kitchen and turned on the light. [Lets see, what do we have to fix?] His own kitchen was well stocked, and he subconsciously expected the Texan's to be, too. He was in for a rude surprise.

"Damn" he muttered as he prowled through the cabinets. "Does he eat every meal out? No wonder he's so skinny!" There was one, wrinkled strip of bacon, a can of biscuits, maybe an inch of milk in a gallon jug, salt and pepper on the table, a big canister with some white flour packed in one corner, a little sugar in a smaller canister and a couple of TV dinners in the freezer, and nothing else.

Curious, Joe went over and poked in the trash-can. Grocery store sack folded for a liner, coffee grounds, coffee grounds, hamburger wrapper, rib bones, hamburger wrapper, no french fries, a beer bottle, and that seemed to be all. No fruit, no vegatables, no fruit juice, no other beverage but coffee and beer.

He sighed. [Well, there's got to be a coffeepot here somewhere.] It took him a while to recognize the thing on the back of the stove as a coffeepot. It took him longer to get it washed out and fit to use. He hunted around some more, and finally found the coffee in a canister over the stove. After he made a pot, he poured himself a cup and then went and checked on the Cowboy. Sound asleep, and seemed comfortable. He ghosted around the house, no clothes thrown down, the furniture bareish but waxed and dusted. The beds made with hospital corners folded on the sheets. The floors were clean and swept, there weren't even any whiskers in the bathroom sink. He went back in the kitchen. By his standards, there wasn't any equipment, but what there was, was neat and spotless. No dirty dishes or pans, no dirty anything.

He dug out a black skillet, [Damn, the thing is heavy, iron? No, it's not rusty...] and put it on the stove to heat. He fished out the strip of bacon and cooked it crisp. There was an aluminum pie tin in the oven, he used it to bake the biscuits. Then he sprinkled some of the flour into the bacon grease to make a roux and added a little salt and pepper. When it was ready, he added enough milk to make a white sauce and crumbled the bacon up into it. The biscuits were a delicate brown and he piled them on a plate and poured the white sauce in a soup bowl. He dropped the skillet into the dishwater and rinsed off his hands, poured two cups of coffee and piled everything on a platter and carried it into the parlor.

He set it down of the end table and squatted down by Levon's shoulder. "Cowboy, Lundy...?"

Levon roused up a little.

"I've got something for you to eat..."

He sat up a little as Joe slid in behind him, giving him something to rest against. He still wasn't quite sober or awake, and didn't question the presence of the Yankee.

Joe handed him a cup of coffee and helped support it when his hands weren't quite steady.

Levon sighed, if this was a dream, it was a nice one. No one had taken *care* of *him* since he lived with his Grandmother Minnie. The dream Joey fed him a fork of biscuits and gravy... the biscuits delicate and tender, the gravy flavored with bacon... delicious! Another swallow of coffee, it didn't taste as rich as the coffee he usually made, weaker, more biscuits and gravy. The dream Joe was combing his hair back off his forehead. [Why can't the real LaFiamma be like this, he's damned beautiful, but a real pain in the ass.] "Why can't the real you be like this?" he muttered to the coffee cup.

"Like what?" asked softly from above his head.

"It even sounds like LaFiamma."

"Like what?" The voice sounded quietly amused.

"Like this dream, beautiful, but not such a pain in the ass, gentle, quiet, loving..."

"Well, I've been called a dreamboat before, but never just a dream."

All of a sudden things clicked back into focus, and the delicious food dropped like a rock in a stomach that started to rebel. He froze. "You gon'a tell the Lieutenant?"

"What? That you've got bigger balls than any five men I know?"

Lundy's hand involuntarily crept towards his genitals.

LaFiamma chuckled, quietly, "No, I meant you've got more guts, more courage than anyone I think I've ever met. I think she already knows that."

LaFiamma's hand continued to comb his hair. Gentle, on a head that was studying about having a hangover. "Hangover?"

"No... not really."

"You shouldn't... you chucked most of it behind the 'Eagle'"

"How long did I sleep 'n what time is it?"

"A couple of hours, it's about 3 in the morning." LaFiamma paused. "You need a shower, partner, and I'm beat." He leaned down and lightly kissed along the side of Lundy's neck. "Could I get a shower with you and... maybe, some sleep?"

Lundy abruptly recoiled and jerked out of Joey's lap. "I AIN'T EASY!"

"You for damned sure aren't! Obnoxious, arrogant Texan, yes... easy... no." Joe reached over and picked up Lundy's hand, gently rubbed his thumb along Levon's knuckles then lifted them to his mouth and licked across them. Then he feathered butterfly kisses across the back of his hand, rolled it over slowly and sucked on the pulse point, "Please?"

Involuntarily, Levon's nose twitched. He sniffed, then sniffed again and the tension drained out of his body... he did stink. He needed a shower, bad. Then the thought struck, "Where's Grandpaw's belt?" He slowly pulled away from Joe.

Joey looked at him, "You mean the belt you had on?"

"Yeah"

"That's your Grandfather's belt? It's out in the barn with your shirt."

"I better go get it... where's my pants?" He asked as he stumbled over the jeans in question on the floor.

"Lundy, Levon, it'll keep for a couple of hours. We got to go in and report, early. I promise it's safe."

The Texan swayed on his feet, and Joe quickly grabbed his arm. "Come on, let's get a shower and a few hours sleep. Please, Levon?"

Levon let his head roll back on his neck, did it really matter? Caroline's father had said that if he ever let another innocent person die, he was going to come geld Lundy, and whip him to death, for shaming his Grandfather, for not being as much of a man. He had let Rose Ellen die... it was his fault... he would let LaFiamma have what ever he wanted, until it came time to pay up.

He turned and stepped into Joe's arms and wrapped his around Joe and hugged him. "I don't guess it'll make any difference." he murmured and sighed. [It wouldn't change anything], "Bathroom's this way." He said as he stepped away. He picked up the quilt and quickly refolded it, and replaced it on the back of the sofa, then picked up his jeans with one hand and led the way.

Joey followed, watching the flex and play of the muscles in Lundy's body. God's teeth and toenails, he was beautiful, like a Grecian statue of a runner, come to life.

Levon flipped the light switch on and stuffed his dirty jeans in the hamper, turned the hot water on, pulled two big bath towels out and put them on the sink counter.

"Where's the shampoo?" Joe asked quietly. His partner's hair was stringy with sweat, he was going to make sure it was returned to its normal beauty.

"Here," He turned around to get the shampoo off the shelf and froze. Joe had almost finished stripping, and [Oh dear Lord, he's beautiful. Why would he want me?] He asked himself, then found part of an answer, [Well, I'm clean and safe... and willing, why not.] He got the shampoo and stepped over in the tub, pulling the shower curtain partially closed and backed up under the water, soaking his hair. He heard the curtain rattle and then felt Joe's fingers in his hair, and Joe... rubbing his thigh? He cracked his eyelids, that was Joe's cock rubbing lightly on his leg... to his surprise, he felt his mouth start to water, it had been so long since he had such a beautiful cock to nibble and suck. Joe was slightly longer and a bit thicker, but cut.

Joe poured shampoo in one hand, rubbed his hands together and delicately started massaging Levon's scalp. His cock was rubbing on Lundy's leg and the subtle friction teased him. He could feel the heat gathering in his groin, as he got harder. He used the pads of his thumbs on Levon's fine jawbone to tilt his head back, and he tilted his head over and nibbled down the long neck as his fingers worked thru the silky hair. He washed and rinsed it twice, both times nibbling and sucking on the long neck and finely shaped ears. He didn't want to mark Levon up, too many people had already done that, just pleasure him, and enjoy giving that pleasure. He soaped his hands and washed along his partner's collarbones, shoulders, the long slim arms and fine boned hands. He sucked on each finger as he washed it.

Levon blindly grabbed for something to hold on to. He wound up with one hand on the curtain rod and the other grasping the ceremic soap dish, as Joe slid his cock in and out between his balls and the inside of his thigh, while his hands slid from nipples to navel around on skin that hadn't been touched in years. It felt so good... but he just wasn't getting hard... then an unbelievable touch, Joe's mouth nipping and sucking at his foreskin... his tongue slipping in to touch the slit in his cock... gentle fingers sliding his foreskin up and back over the head of his cock while the crown was licked made shudders of pleasure run up and down his back.

Joe sucked the crown... and a wave of heat swept him up and he was drowning in fire... cumming and cumming. His knees buckled and Joe's arms caught him, and guided him down to sit on the floor of the tub and lean back against the tile. He panted for a few heartbeats with his eyes closed, then opened them, Joe's cock was right there, right there within reach... two shaky fingers guided it to his hungry mouth, the crown with the salty taste of pre-cum... firmness rubbing on the ridges in the roof of his mouth... the silky length of the shaft, in and out on his tongue. He ran his hand across the soap then up Joe's leg to his balls, gently rubbing on them and back to the little pucker behind them. One long slim finger slipped in and over the spongy nub. His mouth was flooded with the sweet taste of bitter/salty cum. Joe's bitten off, "Not yet!" as he swallowed and sucked and swallowed.

Then Joe was leaning on the wall over him, trying to catch his breath. Then finally a sigh, "Come on, Cowboy, we better hit the sack... that wasn't what I had in mind, but it was good."

Joe pulled him, up drying him with a towel. The light was on in the bedroom, how had Joe known where it was? The bed was turned down. He was being helped into bed, and the light off... a warm body slid in behind him, holding him.

Behind him, Joe was turning over in his mind the things that had happened in one week...

The End