Fandom:	Houston Knights
Series:	Other Authors
Rating:	NC-17
Pairing:	Joe/Levon
Archive:	Starwinder's
Title:	Buttons and Bows
Author:	Glo
e-mail:	Goglow@mailcity.com
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.

This disclaimer will apply to all sections of the story. The song, Buttons and Bows, was originally sung by Bob Hope in the movie, PALEFACE. It subsequently won the Oscar in 1948 for best song. No copyright infringement is intended when quoting and MIS-quoting from the song.

Part 1...

Oh, East is east and west is west
And the wrong one I have chose...

"I said NO, not now, LaFiamma, and I meant it," Levon Lundy growled from his desk, blonde head down facing their latest stack of paperwork. The Houston police detective was really getting irritated with his partner who seemed to have decided that this was the day for a heart to heart about their personal problems. Trouble was, once Joseph Anthony LaFiamma got his teeth buried in something it took more than 'no' to get him to let loose.

LaFiamma was hovering. He didn't mean to but he knew that he was. He'd only meant to snip a few errant bits of his bonsai, and incidentally chat up his beau. But he and Levon had been having some difficulties lately. Six months ago, when they first opened their eyes to the possibility of a new, different kind of relationship, Joe dived in with eyes wide open and joy in his heart. Levon had cautiously dipped his toe in and kept an eye on the exit door. Later, when things had gotten more intense, Lundy had moved into the relationship, the love affair with greater surety. Or so it had seemed at the time.

The brunette hadn't meant to start another argument. It seemed that those started all too easily these days. The nights were still good, at least most nights were. Sometimes, though, Joe would wake to find himself alone in bed, his cowboy long gone.

Aware of the tension in the slender blonde westerner, Joe sat back down in his desk chair across from his partner and looked out across the Major Crimes Unit bullpen of the Houston Police Department. There were other detectives in the room at the moment. Joe realized that at least two of them were monitoring the 'tag-team' as he and his partner were known these days.

Carol 'Legs' O'Brian was ostensibly typing at a computer console but she seemed to be having trouble finding her place in the documents she was using. Esteban Guiterrez had been standing at the coffee urn for more than four minutes now, no reason, just standing there.

LaFiamma hunched his rather substantial shoulders forward over his own paperwork, shutting out the world. He and Levon had been very open and casual about their pairing back then. The whole division knew they were a couple within a few weeks of the Lorenzo case. That case, working undercover in the world of professional wrestling had left Joe with a permanent scar buried under the dark hair above his temple, plus stiff shoulders and neck. Usually Levon would sense Joe's pain and give him a rub down, but lately even that had stopped.

**************************

Levon Elmer Lundy had never expected to be in a permanent, monogamous relationship with another male. Back in high school and later college, when he and Bobby had tried it out, for Bobby it had been a diversion, and for him, well, Bobby had made it pretty clear that Levon's wishes were secondary. Then, Bobby'd called him names and ridiculed him for wantin' to continue. Lundy sighed. He'd gone t'other way after that, married Caroline, became a widower, started seeing Jamie for a bit, then some other right nice ladies. But it wasn't until Joe that he'd felt anything deep, anything to rock his soul, touch his heart in ways both wonderful and painful.

Lundy sat sipping coffee and jotting down notes on their cases. He'd have to talk to his partner soon. Trouble was, Joey was getting' all worked up over their personal lives and it was hard to keep him on track at work. Closing his eyes for a moment, Levon thought about that. Joe wanted to dominate their relationship. He'd not said it in so many words, just in his actions. And it was simply becoming too much for the lanky blonde cowboy who'd been independent since he'd been a small fry.

He still hadn't figured out how to tell his lover that he was feelin' suffocated by the Italian's love, smothered in the constant attention that had once made him feel so special, so loved. He still loved Joe, no question there. But talkin' about all this was just beyond him. So he knew that he'd jest gotten a bit colder, more remote, quieter day by day. 'Til now there was a real big chasm between'em and it was of his own makin'. Damn.

LaFiamma studied his partner. Levon was looking particularly tired today. He was cross with Joe and the Italian was not certain why. Something had been going wrong for a while now between them. Nothing he could put his finger on, but Levon was simply unhappy and not talking. The ex-Chicago cop was nearly at explosion level himself. He'd tried everything he could think of but his Texas lover was uncommunicative. Nothing new there, really. Ever since Joe had arrived, an exile from Chicago, a mobster's hit out on him, the cowboy had been rough, tough, and hard to talk to. When they finally became a team, things got better. Friendship followed, and things had been easier. They still argued, still disagreed, but their teamwork had smoothed out and become a well-oiled machine.

Joe fingered the white-gold ring on his ring finger, head down as he thought about what that represented. Love and commitment, a partnership in life as well as at work. It had been like living a dream. Lately, though, the dream had turned sour. It hurt so much that LaFiamma was afraid lately that he'd simply start crying, right in front of everyone in the Houston MCU bullpen. That would really do wonders for his reputation.

Carol "Legs" O'Brien was getting worried about her two favorite co-workers. She had seen them grow into lovers right in front of her eyes while on the Lorenzo case six months ago. Now, they were falling apart in front of her. She could tell that Joe was frustrated and upset, she'd seen the watery look to his blue eyes lately when he would steal silent glances at his mate. She'd also seen the fidgety way Levon had been avoiding touching Joe, moving just too quickly when near him.

She knew that at least one other had noticed. Esteban Guiterrez, the ex-Matamoras cop was watching, too, she'd caught him at it a few times lately. He was a good friend to them and she knew he'd not do anything to jeopardize them, but neither he nor she really had the right to interfere.

Maybe she should talk with Joanne Beaumont, their boss. Joanne was Levon's ex-partner, she might be able to help. Beaumont had come around to accepting the new relationship after a private talk with Joe LaFiamma. No one knew what Joe had said, but Beaumont had left that meet and gone to Levon to tell him that everything was ok with her. And, after that it had been. So, maybe, Carol thought, she should talk with Beaumont.

***********************

The tension between LaFiamma and Lundy was beginning to be noticed by others, too. Their normal spates of temper and argument over a case were nothing like this almost cold, careful attentiveness that kept them civil most of the time, but too quiet. Annie Hartung pushed her lightweight wheelchair into the bullpen. She was determined to do something about this. A good friend of Levon's for years, she had a soft place in her heart for Joe LaFiamma, the displaced northerner. Joey and she had come to terms early on, he treated her with a grace and gentleness that was refreshing, and she gave him the mothering he so missed being away from his large extended family back in Chicago.

"Hey, Annie," Joe greeted her as she rolled to a stop facing the joint desks of the tag-team. Levon looked up at her and nodded.

"Hi, Joey, hey, Levon," she answered, smiling that slow, wicked smile of hers. She had already decided to try Joey first. He was the talker of the two, though she knew he seldom talked about the things that meant the most to him. "Joey, I need some help down in my office," she continued, "I was wondering if Levon could spare you for a bit?"

"Shore, Annie, take him fur as long as you want." Levon actually looked relieved.

LaFiamma stood quickly and came around his desk to her side. For once, he didn't speak, just waited to follow her. She spun her chair and led the way, knowing he'd come after.

Once in the hallway, she spared a look up at his face. The brunette was not looking at her, his head was down and he was clearly in a world of thought of his own.

"Sit down, Joey," she said gently as they came into her small office, papers and files stacked everywhere. The northerner sank easily into the wooden armchair beside her desk. She pulled her wheelchair around to sit behind it, then reached out and touched his cheek softly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He started and pulled back, bringing a hand up to his face. The tough look that swept over his face darkened his eyes to midnight blue. "Nothin' to talk about, Annie."

"Oh, Joey, we are all so worried about you and Levon. We can all see that things aren't right between the two of you. What's wrong?"

LaFiamma stared at her like she was alien for a moment, then he seemed to crumble. His head fell, his shoulders sank and his large hands whitened in their grips on the wooden arms of the chair. "I wish I knew." He took a deep breath and seemed to be disciplining himself. "Annie, Levon is unhappy. If it's something I did or something I didn't do, I just don't know. I love him so much and I think he still loves me, but he's been so close-mouthed that oysters are easier to open."

Hartung smiled sadly. "Levon is a Texan. We don't tend to wear our hearts on our sleeves, Joey. You have to be patient with him."

The brunette ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. "I'm trying."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Hopeful blue eyes met the woman's soft ones. "Can you talk with him? He won't talk to me. If I just knew what to fix..."

"Okay, Joey, I'll try to get Levon to talk with me. See what I can do."

"Annie, you're great." Joe leaned forward and kissed her soundly on one cheek, then rose and strode from the room, looking happier than he had in a while.

********************

This did not seem like the best time to be assigning a case like this one to Levon and Joe, Beaumont thought as she walked through the lobby of the Reisner Building. Nodding to one of the uniformed sergeants at the police desks just inside the door, she squared her shoulders and headed for the elevator up to the MCU.

The meeting with Captain James Phillips had been a surprise and the assignment was distasteful to the dark-haired Lieutenant. Her men had plenty to do without participating in some hair-brained scheme like this one. An undercover assignment from hell as far as she was concerned. That Phillips would dump it on Lundy and LaFiamma should not have surprised her, but it did. The fact that the Houston gay community was getting abusive and noisy in public was the mayor's problem, and, maybe, Homicide's. It shouldn't be MCU's. She wanted to strangle someone.

Pushing into the bullpen, she saw that both Lundy and LaFiamma were bent over folders at their desks. She frowned, they'd been awfully quiet lately, even for old marrieds, as she thought of them these days. "Lundy, LaFiamma, my office, now."

Two heads had come up, both men standing and following her into her office without a word.

"Sit down. You have a new case." She circled her desk and sat, preparing herself for the scene she was certain would follow.

"Another one? Joanne, we got half-a-dozen we're workin' right now," Levon protested, sinking into one of the chairs in front of her desk.

LaFiamma was alert and looking at the lieutenant as he, too, sat down. "What's this about, Lieutenant?"

She stared at them silently for a moment more, then said, "Joe, close the door."

LaFiamma reached over and pushed the glass door shut without rising. He made no comment.

Beaumont put both hands flat on her desktop and pressed them down, studying the hands as if their shape had changed since last she'd looked. Bringing her eyes up, she fixed on her old partner, Levon Lundy. "I'll be reassigning all your cases as of right now. You two are going undercover again."

Lundy sat up straight, a worried frown appearing on his face as he spared a quick glance at LaFiamma. "Not back...?"

"No, not pro-wrestling," she answered his unspoken question. It was good to see that protective spirit of his again. Annie Hartung had warned her only yesterday that the boys were not doing well. "This one comes direct from the mayor's office. Captain Phillips himself picked you two. It seems your success on the Lorenzo case made him think you two could handle this. That, and, to quote him, 'they're both the right profile for this.'"

"For what?" Joe LaFiamma's deep voice was curious.

She still hesitated, felt her color rise. Dammit, she was embarrassed about this one. Still maintaining eye contact with Lundy, she answered LaFiamma's question. "Going under as a gay couple." She waited.

There was absolute silence. Then, "He knows?" That was Lundy.

"No, I don't think so. We have all been quiet about you two, no unnecessary talk. I think he just believes that you both did well on that really strange undercover case with the wrestling. You both have a look that would attract the other men, according to Phillips. He thinks that you'll be able to do this. Go in posing as a couple, set up an apartment in a known gay section of the city, make connections. The serial killer who's been raping and killing those boys is stirring up that community, they've been on the mayor's case. He came down on Phillips and the Captain picked you two to go in and catch this guy."

"Homicide Division know about this?" Lundy's tone was very flat.

"No," she answered, "and they aren't going to. This is another deep cover job. The theory is that the killer is getting inside information on patrols and the investigation. We send you in without anyone in the Homicide Division knowing. You make yourselves available as bait, try to draw out this guy, then get him." She had to suppress the anger in her voice, no need to make things worse for these men.

"I haven't been keepin' up on the case, Joanne," Lundy said, still no inflection in his tone. "What kinda boy is the killer favorin'? Woulda thought we were a bit too old?"

She shook her head, eyes sliding toward LaFiamma now. "He's been picking what the detectives describe as 'hunks' - muscle beach types, tall, dark, and handsome."

"No." Levon managed to put so much power in the one word that Joe, who'd been about to say he could handle this, sat back and shut up. His cowboy was back!

Joanne blinked. "There is no choice here, Levon. That's your new assignment. Believe me, I argued until I was blue in the face but I didn't make a dent in the Captain. He's taking orders from the mayor and he's giving them to us."

"I ain't letting Joe anywhere's near that crackpot killer. No way." Lundy looked ready to do damage to Beaumont.

Joe LaFiamma actually smiled. Then, clearing his countenance, he spoke, "You'd be there with me, Levon, watching my back. It's a chance to stop a killer, stop anymore innocent folks from getting killed."

Lundy glared at his partner. "Joe - "

"Levon," LaFiamma paused then threw out some ammunition, "I want to try but I can't do it without you. Please?"

The blonde was plainly fuming, but he turned back to Beaumont. "If we do this, you let us find our own way in. No set up by anyone else. We find our own contacts, we don't use anyone that is already known to cops. We go in, we go in with no wires, no surveillance."

"Be reasonable, Levon," Joanne was willing to argue this, even though she could see that Lundy was determined.

"I am, Joanne," he answered. "Sounds like someone might be leakin' things to this guy. Ain't no way I'm gonna let LaFiamma loose out there without every possible protection, an' bein' anonymous is prob'bly the best protection of all."

Beaumont looked between the two men thoughtfully. LaFiamma was not talking, leaving it to his partner. Lundy was adamant and he had a point. It really was a reasonable request. Whatever was wrong between them couldn't be very bad, they were acting like a good team as far as she could see. "Okay, you're on your own. We'll arrange money and cover of your choice, you need to be ready to start by tomorrow."

The two men rose as one, and headed for the door, LaFiamma opening it, Lundy leading the way through. Beaumont watched their backs and thought about what Annie had said. After a moment, she thought about the meeting just over and what hadn't been said. Neither man had objected to the idea of them going in as a gay couple. She gazed straight out at nothing, thinking. Jumped as her telephone rang, then answered it.

***********************

"Levon."

Lundy stopped mid-way back to their desks. Joe's single word was full of demands and he knew they were heading for a confrontation. Now. Mebbe best anyway. If this new assignment was to work, they couldn't afford to be less than in complete agreement, about everything.

LaFiamma waited. He was certainly learning patience these days, something that as an Italian had always been hard for him. He could see that Levon was thinking things through from his stance. Read him like a book, some ways. When the cowboy turned to face him, Joe began to hope.

"Let's take this home." Lundy was not going to risk this discussion to the open bullpen, even if only friends were here to witness it.

Together they gathered their things, dropped their case files on Dale's desk with a word to take them in to Beaumont when she was free again. They could all see her on the telephone through her glass-enclosed office. Dale nodded and laid a hand on the files.

LaFiamma held open the door for Lundy then followed him out and down to the garage where their Jimmy awaited them.

************************

At the ranch, Levon couldn't face the thought of going inside for this particular talk. He led the way to the rail of the barn's corral, then stopped, one booted foot on the bottom rail, and leaned his folded arms on the top rail. Fooler and Matty were out in the pasture beyond and looked up momentarily before dropping their heads to continue grazing. Levon's chin rested on his forearms as he gazed out blindly. "Okay, Joe. Talk."

"Think you got that wrong, partner," LaFiamma spoke calmly, his deep resonant voice insinuating itself in Levon's senses. "I've been doing nothin' but talk for months now. It hasn't helped and you've gotten quieter and quieter. I'm beginning to think I chose wrong when I thought we could be together for life, maybe Chicago and Houston really are too different, I don't know any more. I'm talked out. Got nothing left to say, Levon, I figure it's your turn."

Lundy closed his eyes and simply rested. After a moment, he felt a warm hand press on his back and begin to move in slow circles, leaving a trail of warmth behind. God, he loved Joe so much. This was so hard. "I ain't good at talkin', you know that Joey."

This was met with silence, and the continued movement of the hand stroking his back.

"Okay. I'm sorry, sorry for not saying anythin'. Jest been gettin' a feelin' of bein' trapped. Like someone put a pillow over my face and is holdin' it down and I cain't get it off."

LaFiamma considered this. "You saying you're feeling smothered?"

"I guess."

"By me? Yeah, you mean by me." There was hurt in that tone. "I'm trying too hard, huh? Keeping too close? Pushing too much?"

"Gawd, Joey, I don't know 'xactly. Jest know that I never seem to have no time to think, to be alone."

"Too close," Joe's voice was low, almost like he was talking to himself. "Levon, I am sorry. I can see what's happening now. I just tried to make us into an Italian family, like I've always been part of. You know, everyone knows everything, does everything together, talks alla time, lives in each other's faces. It's what I know. How I was raised. I just never stopped to think that it might be different for you. For what you need."

Levon came away from the rail and caught up the remorseful Italian in his arms. Burying his face in the other's shoulder, Lundy growled, "What I need is you. Don't go takin' all the blame, I shoulda said somethin'. Us Texans ken be right reserved, keep to ourselves a lot. I'm sorry, too."

"Levon, I'll try to learn you better. Honest. Just, give us another chance? Please?" Joe's arms were tight around his lover now, hands clenching the leather vest that his partner wore. His head was down as he spoke softly into the nearest ear.

"Joe, I love you so much. You didn't choose wrong. I ain't ever gonna let you go, boy. We'll work it out." Levon looked up into the ghostly blue eyes of his lover, his friend. Then they were finding each other's lips and sealing new understandings with a deep, binding kiss.

... end of part 1: "...the wrong one I have chose..."

Part 2...

A western ranch is just a branch of Nowhere Junction to me
Give me the city where living's pretty and the guys wear finery

"Chicken's not gonna be much help on this one." Levon leaned back in his chair and toyed with a pen. He and Joe were in the kitchen, sitting at the table, trying to decide how to get a handle on their new undercover assignment.

Joe was tapping a finger on the table, his face a mix of pensiveness and weariness. The confrontation with Levon had taken a lot out of him. Lundy seemed to be ready to move on but Joe was still absorbing the blows and trying to realign himself. He knew that Levon still loved him, and that was a relief. The thing was, Levon needed something that Joe wasn't certain how to give, much as he might like to. Space. It was a totally foreign concept to the Italian. He recognized it and wanted to be able to give it to Levon, but he wasn't sure how. So, now his mind fluttered about, like a trapped bird, between the problems with Levon and the problems with the case.

With a bottomless sigh, Joe stood. "I'll call Orchid. He or Harvey, his friend, can probably tell us who we need to see, where we need to go. They've proved we can trust them."

Levon looked up. He could see that Joe was still unhappy about something, probably about us, he thought. It'd get better, he'd see to it, even if it meant speakin' up more so they both knew where they stood. If Joey was willing to learn to live a new way, who was he to not try also? They had something much too important to lose. He let the pen fall from his fingers and replayed Joey's comment in his head.

"Sounds like a good idea. You want to call him now?"

Joe nodded. "Yeah, sooner the better." He headed over to the wall phone.

Half an hour later, the detectives had a name, a lead, and the address and telephone number of a landlord with the perfect apartment for rent. That call was made and they'd get to take a look at the place in the morning. The rent was high, but they'd settled on a couple of cover jobs. Levon would be a buyer for a horse dealer. Joe would be a brokerage consultant. That left both free to work out of their new apartment and keep their own hours. It also meant two very respectable incomes could be implied. The rent would not be a problem. Setting up the bankrolling with Joanne would wait 'til later in the morning after they saw the place tomorrow.

The Orchid, Sammy Wilder, was a personal friend and old college buddy of LaFiamma's. He and his friend Harvey were gay, Wilder as the Orchid was a pro-wrestler who had helped them on the Lorenzo case. Now he was their entrée into Houston's sub-culture of homosexual life. Orchid had suggested the Tamarind Bar for a meeting place with someone named Carousel. This man was a match-maker in the underworld of gay life; a kind of broker for men who had trouble finding others of similar interests...and needs. Carousel, as Sammy so humorously put it, had been around the block a few times, hence his 'name.'

Harvey, when consulted hurriedly on the side by Wilder, had suggested that they would have more luck if Joe were properly attired to attract others and then they moved about in the gay nightlife circuits. There were rumors that the three dead men, all young, dark and handsome, might have been spotted at one of several nightspots known to be habituated by gays. With this lead, the contact with Carousel, and the meeting with a landlord set, Joe and Levon called it a night.

They'd have to set up a system to report to Beaumont, but didn't want to be seen openly near Reisner. Joe suggested they use the café they'd used during the Lorenzo case, the Café Romeo. It was not a gay hangout, but was tolerant and Joe and Levon had been there undercover before. Levon agreed and called Beaumont at home to report and suggest using the café for meets.

LaFiamma had left Lundy on the telephone in the kitchen. He'd gone on to the bathroom to shower, shave and prepare for bed. Usually he hung around and kind draped himself over Levon as the cowboy went through the same nightly rituals. Tonight, Joe quietly opened their bed and slipped under the covers. He left a light on in the bathroom for Levon and the lamp on at the cowboy's side of the bed. Then he turned over and tried to get to sleep.

Hopeless. But, at least he'd given Levon some space. It was a start.

Lundy turned off the lights in the kitchen and walked down the hall. He was surprised to find the bathroom steamy but empty. Joe always left it immaculate. He usually hung around and picked up after the cowboy. Tonight he was missing. Uncomfortable and concerned, Levon stepped into the bedroom. He saw the waiting light at his side of the bed, and the lump of blanket that had to be Joey on the far side of the mattress. Impossible to tell if the brunette was already asleep.

Levon stood a moment. This was a change. Joey was trying to give him some space, that was obvious, but to Levon's surprise, he found himself missing the attention. Dang, no point in being contrary, the boy is trying. Lundy walked back into their bathroom and got ready for bed.

Crawling under the covers a while later, Levon switched off the light and slid all the way over to Joe's back. Plastering himself up against the wonderfully smooth, soapy smelling skin, Lundy curled an arm over Joe and kissed his shoulder blade. "You awake?"

Joe answered, "Yes." Then, he was turning in Lundy's arms and facing his lover, sliding his own arms around the slim body of the blonde. Tucking in close, LaFiamma kissed along the top of Levon's shoulder, then laid his head there.

"Joe - " Levon squeezed his arms tight around the brunette, "- sleep well, baby."

Joe smiled into the shoulder supporting him. "You too, love, you too."

***********************

Wearing one of his stylish suits, Joe looked like a million dollars, Lundy decided as he let his partner lead the way up the stairs to the third floor apartment they were about to see. The landlord, Mitchell Voder, was ahead of LaFiamma on the staircase. Voder turned out to be a raging queen, dressed in casual bohemian style with an incongruous, at least for Houston, beret. Lundy adjusted the tie he was wearing with one of his dress western suits. His snake skin boots had earned him a second look from Voder, who had been torn between the two of them, eyes flickering hungrily between them.

Knowing it was best to establish their roles early, Levon had simply leaned in close to Joe and put a possessive arm over his shoulder, letting his flat palm rest against the Italian's chest. Joe had automatically leaned back into the caress and placed one of his hands over Levon's. Voder had sighed and led the way up the stairs. Levon released Joe and gave him a slight push. The Italian had heaved a sigh of his own and followed Voder.

The apartment turned out to be airy and light, with large, square rooms built around the central staircase, which opened into a small entry room. The other rooms all fed off this one. Walking into the living room, Joe was struck by the elegance of the clean Mies Van Der Rohe style furnishings.The framed Hockney print on the wall was of a swimming pool and a pair of legs disappearing in a splash at the left end of the water.

Lundy looked into the bathroom and almost groaned in pleasure. The sunken bathtub was large enough for two and had a Jacuzzi attachment. There were twin sinks at one end, the commode modestly hidden in an alcove.

When Joe saw the kitchen, he was enchanted. The modern stainless steel refrigerator and stove gave way to a suspended rack of pots and pans, all stainless too, hanging over an enormous island, complete with cutting board of butcher block parquet and deep sinks. There was a serving area at one side where people could eat, like a breakfast bar. The French doors led to a medium sized balcony, which had its own fresh herbs growing in boxes hung from the railing.

Both men met to see the dining room/den. The grand dining table was large enough to seat eight comfortably. The sidebar hutch had a complete service inside, in a rakish 1920's motif. There was a computer center in one corner, complete with a wall of bookcases and shelves, only partly filled with dark leather tomes. The opposite corner had what looked like a swing out bar in dark wood that matched the table, chairs, bookcases and desk unit. The mellow look, somehow not too heavy despite the colors and textures, shouted masculine territory.

Together, they followed Voder into the bedroom, the final corner of the apartment. Joe inhaled sharply and Lundy once again put an arm around his shoulders as they stood in the doorway. The bed was king-sized and canopied. Four tall, rice-patterned posts reached high to support the simple mosquito netting above. A wall of closets and several light mahogany chests of drawers, nightstands, and lamps, completed the room. Here, too, French doors led to a simple balcony, this one with redwood slats for privacy and enough space for sunbathing.

The deal was done with a handshake, fund transfers set for the afternoon. They could move into the furnished apartment in the evening if they wanted.

********************

Heading back downtown, Levon swung the Jimmy over into the turn lane and switched roads without comment. LaFiamma recognized the streets heading toward the quiet Café Romeo.

Once parked near the bar, Levon spoke. "I'll call Joanne from a pay phone and ask her to come on out and meet us now, you git us a table."

LaFiamma nodded and stood from the cab of the truck. After locking up, Lundy followed his partner across the street and into the dark interior of the upscale little café-bar. He could see Joe ahead of him, sliding into the same booth they'd sat at all those months ago, when they'd met with Beaumont a final time just before wrapping the Lorenzo case. The memories flooded back as the blonde reached the row of telephones at the back. Dialing, he turned to face the room and watch his partner who was speaking quietly to a waiter.

Joe really is beautiful, Levon thought as he listened to the ring. Beautiful and mine. "Hello, Beaumont." Joanne's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"It's Levon. Can you meet us now? We've got a report and need to set up the money." He listened, then said, "Yeah, same place. We'll be waiting." Hanging up, he looked back over at his partner and mate. LaFiamma was leaning back now, arms draped over the back of the banquette. The dark wing of hair that fell forward shaded one side of his face, accenting that strong, clean profile. The deep-set eyes were unfocused, dreaming. Lundy felt a pulse in his groin. The man was his, his alone. He ached to take possession of the Italian now, knowing it was impossible. But tonight, he'd be showing Joe that there was still a strong fire burning in him for the northerner. Lundy's lips tightened as he thought about how far away tonight seemed just then.

LaFiamma started slightly when Lundy swung into view and sat down next to him in the table nook. He smiled as he felt Levon's hand grope his thigh, warm and heavy, squeezing suggestively. Joe arched back, then let his closer arm drop down from the bench back onto the cowboy's shoulders. Levon turned his head within the embrace and found LaFiamma's lips waiting for him. After a light peck, Levon pulled back, "Too public, Joe," he said regretfully.

The brunette smiled and pressed against his lover for a moment, then sat back, arm coming free of Levon's shoulders, hands coming to rest on the table. The waiter arrived at that moment, a small tray in his hand. There was a large porcelain pot on the tray and two china cups, a small plate with lemon slices.

Joe gestured to the waiter to leave it and watched Lundy's face, smiling at the look of incredulity. "I thought tea might be better just now. We have to wait for the Lieutenant, then we still have that meet with Carousel later this evening."

Lundy agreed with a nod. LaFiamma was right, though he'd a preferred coffee, he'd take the tea without complaint. "Don't forget we got to get us moved into that apartment, too. And set up our money."

LaFiamma was serving, pouring steaming fragrant cups of tea. At Levon's questioning sniff, he said, "It's Earl Grey. Nice aroma, distinctive taste. You may not even want the lemon, once you've tried it."

Levon took up one of the delicate floral decorated cups, taking a cautious sip of the steaming liquid. It was nice, kinda stimulating on the tongue. "Not bad, LaFiamma. What else you got up yore sleeve?"

Joe grinned at him. Levon felt a pang of guilt, it was the first full-fledged grin he'd seen on Joe in quite a while. I been too hard on the boy, he thought sadly. We got to work at this, make this work for us. Joe answered now, "Oh, lots of stuff, cowboy, just you wait and see. I'm gonna see that life is interesting for you."

"'spect to have a long life, Joe. You aim to be able to still come up with new stuff, fifty years down the road?"

Joe's eyes were suddenly full. He blinked and dipped his head. "Hey, Chi, what?" Levon asked, tipping the brunette's head back up with a finger under his chin.

Blinking back tears that threatened to fall, the Italian caught his breath and tried to speak, nothing came out, he took a deep breath and tried again. "You figure we'll be together still in fifty years?"

"Yup."

"Yup?" Joe's flashing smile was back, bathing his cowboy in sunlight warmth and love. "Then I reckon," Joe continued in a very heavy drawl, "ah'll find somethin' new fur you each and ever' day."

Levon touched his blonde head to his friend's, "Promise?"

"Yup."

A lot of unsaid things going on here, Lundy thought, but good things. We getting back on track. Guess I gotta learn to speak my mind more often. He sat back and sipped his tea, eyes turning now to survey the room. No matter where or what, cop instinct rode strong.

LaFiamma looked down at the tea leaves gently gathering at the bottom of his cup. He swirled the light amber liquid, thinking of Levon. The cowboy was loosening up since their talk yesterday. Now that he knew what had been bothering Levon, he would try hard to make sure he left the blonde with breathing space. It really wasn't such a tough thing to do, as long as he kept a close watch and took heed of the early warning signs. Back off then, and things will be fine, Joe assured himself. Least ways, I hope so. Taking a sip now, he held the small cup in his hand and joined Lundy in watching the room.

******************

When Joanne Beaumont arrived, a short time later, both men were on their second cups of tea and Joe had asked the waiter to bring a fresh pot and a third cup. The young server was just setting the tray down when the lieutenant walked in.

She sat down without speaking, waiting for the waiter to leave, then accepted a cup of tea from LaFiamma. "So, what have you got?"

Lundy described what they'd done so far, giving Beaumont the address of the apartment and name of the landlord. She agreed that it was going in the safe in her office. LaFiamma described the contact they would meet later that evening, a kind of clearinghouse person that his friend Orchid had recommended. Beaumont nodded in remembrance at the name Orchid.

She handed over a bank account number, pin number, and signature card for them. "It's in both your names, you're going in under your own names since we figure you won't be known to this segment of the population."

Lundy agreed, then went on to describe their covers. Beaumont took a few notes on a pad and promised to get them a dummy telephone drop number where messages could be relayed in code in case of an emergency. "Although," she added, "I really don't think you'll need to worry about it because we're after a serial killer here, not a conspiracy."

LaFiamma frowned, "Maybe Lieutenant, but we can't be too sure exactly what we're facing since there's suspicion of departmental leaks helping this guy."

"I know, Joey," Beaumont looked from face to face, "You both need to be very careful. Report progress to me, either directly by phone or through the dummy relay."

"We'll give you an update tomorrow after we move in the apartment and have the meet with Carousel at the Tamarind," Lundy reassured her.

Beaumont made no comment but was relieved to see that the partners were more relaxed around each other than she'd seen in some time. Some things showed, the way they were resting against each other, the affectionate look Levon had thrown at Joe when he poured the tea, LaFiamma's smiling eyes. Eyes that had been sad for far too long of late.

Details set, they parted company, LaFiamma going to the cashier to pay while Lundy walked out to the sidewalk with Joanne. When Joey joined them, Beaumont got in her unmarked sedan and waved good bye. The two men crossed the street to their Jimmy.

*****************

Once they had stopped at the bank and set up their account, they took a cashier's check for Voder and left that with their new landlord while picking up the key to the top floor apartment of the refurbished old Victorian mansion. Again admiring the clean lines of the interior rooms and the amenities, they made a list of what they needed to bring, mostly clothing, linens, and food.

The mid-day was spent packing clothes and hauling them, together with towels, and bed linens, over to their new place. LaFiamma asked Lundy to take him to a neighborhood supermarket, suggesting that the sooner their presence was noted in the area, the better. Lundy agreed, they needed to start establishing themselves - not just as new neighbors, but as a couple.
By now, Levon was dressed in his tightest jeans and a short denim jacket. He kept on the snakeskin boots and one of his fancier Stetson's. Joe had opted for his exercise clothes, softly clinging gray sweatpants and a black, sleeveless tee shirt that seemed to be painted on. With high-tops on his feet and a single gold chain at his neck, he seemed to be exuding sex appeal, Levon thought uncomfortably. The cowboy was totally oblivious to his own magnetic attraction in the narrow silhouette of his Levi's, his long neck rising above the collar of the jacket, the blonde curls clustering at the back of his neck, churning out from under the tall hat. Together, they were causing a good many heads to turn as they went down one aisle and up the next.

Filling the basket with his favorite staples, plus a few unusual items that caught his fancy, LaFiamma was engrossed in the shopping. Lundy, strolling behind his partner, admired the smooth muscle tone of the exposed arms, definition and firm shaping stirring his libido as he watched. He had early become aware of the sensation they were creating. Tugging his hat brim down to hide his high color, he kept careful watch for anyone who seemed suspicious. Trouble was, ever'one in the damn place seemed to be ogling Joe not to mention the cowboy himself.
By the time they reached the check out counters, Lundy was sweating and cursing beneath his breath. They had added a couple of cases of beer, some wine, and mineral water to the cart. As the bagged groceries were replaced in the cart, Levon sighed. Joe, now paying at the cash register, still didn't seem to notice the circle of eyes that Lundy decided were trying to strip them right there in the store.

Once out in the parking lot, Levon led the way to the Jimmy where, together, they loaded up. "That ought to hold us for a while," Lundy commented as he closed the tailgate on the truck. Relieved to be through the gamut of the interested store customers, he let his hand rest on the small of Joe's back, fingers slipping possessively down into the waistband of Joe's pants.

"Enough to get us through a few days, anyway," Joe answered, mind obviously elsewhere. He did wriggle slightly in response to the exploratory touch from his cowboy.

"LaFiamma, something wrong?"

"Umm? No," Joe answered finding Levon's eyes, "I was just thinking about tonight."

Lundy smiled, thinking of bedding his Italian, thinking of slow, hot love making in that big bed at the apartment. "What about it?"

"I think I'm gonna need some new clothes."

Levon blinked, reality pitching him back into their conversation. "Joe? You ain't got enough clothes already?" Levon was shocked, picturing the closets at the ranch, mostly filled with LaFiamma's wardrobe.

The Italian now smiled as he turned the cart and pushed it into one of the cart pens in the lot, "Not for what we want to do."

"And that is?"

"Attract a killer."

Levon stopped and stared at LaFiamma across the front of the truck as they each reached for a door. Climbing in, Levon fixed Joe with a look as the Italian buckled the safety belt on the passenger side. "I know what we need to do, but you want to explain yore thinkin' a bit more, son?"

LaFiamma settled back into the corner formed by the seat back and passenger door, where he could admire his lover while they traveled. "My western gear is mostly work stuff. My regular stuff is trendy but not revealing enough for the gay circuit."

"The 'gay circuit'?" Lundy sounded unsure as he guided the truck out into traffic, flashing a quick look at the brunette.

LaFiamma smiled. "Yeah. I have to get something a little outrageous, otherwise, I'm not going to be much use as bait."

Lundy was struck with the nature of their assignment again. Joe was right, he was being set up as bait, based upon the killer's known preferences. All the victims had been brunettes, fairly young, and very athletic looking. Joe fit that description, but he wouldn't attract much notice in his normal elegant attire - it was the wrong style for this audience. Yeah, he'd need something different, though Lundy couldn't quite imagine what. He suddenly knew that he was going to be VERY unhappy with the outfit, whatever it might be, that Joe would pick out.

He hadn't expected this assignment to be difficult this way. Jealousy, no question, and they'd barely begun. Gawd alone knew what he'd be like once Joe started getting feelers. Oh, my god, 'feelers!' Lundy felt his pulse start to race and a circle of pressure start to cause discomfort around his temples.

Hauling their purchases and their packed belongings up to the third floor proved less arduous than they'd anticipated. It turned out there was a dumb-waiter in the back that worked for all the apartments in a daisy chain. With one of them stationed at the top and one at the bottom, they made short work of the transport and delivery. Levon, who'd stayed with the truck, parked it now in their reserved spot along the street and went upstairs.

He found LaFiamma busily putting away the perishable groceries. Lending a hand, they worked efficiently together. Moving on to the bedroom, clothing was hung or folded away and then they were making the bed. As Joe smoothed over the duvet, Levon leaned across and captured his hand. LaFiamma looked up and smiled, tugging gently, pulling the willing cowboy down on to the bed and rolling in to join him.

Clothes hit the floor in quick succession and then they were sliding against each other. Their dicks hard and slick with perspiration and pre-cum, the organs slid and bumped against each other pulling groans of passion from both throats as hands fumbled for grips on each other, teeth and tongues grinding together. They exploded in a timeless moment, cuming in a dazzle of sensations, crying out and breathing raggedly, both reeling from the heated responses they gave each other, as excited as they'd been on their first time together. Sagging down at the center of the bed afterwards, they cuddled and kissed, then drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

Joe spared a moment's thought of gratitude to his name saint for Levon's generous sweet love. Lundy let his fingers play with the Italian's dark aureoles briefly, basking in the beauty and love of his mate. Two heads, one blonde, one brunette, tipped together, as breathing shallowed and slowed. The soft sounds of their sleeping lingered into the late afternoon's warmth.

... end of part 2: "the guys wear finery"

Part 3...

Don't bury me on this prairie
Take me where the cement grows
Let's move down to some big town
Where they love a guy by the cut o'his clothes

The twittering of birds in the tall sycamore trees outside their new bedroom window woke Lundy first. His stretches woke LaFiamma. They ended up stretching against each other, chests scraping briefly before they kissed deeply and parted.

"We better git up and git going, Joe. Got to be ready for tonight's meet with Carousel at the Tamarind."

"Yeah. I still need to find some clothes for tonight, too." Blue eyes laughed at the sudden flicker of reservation in the cowboy's face.

"Suppose so. Ain't gonna happen iffn we stay here." Lundy let his fingers trail down the brunette's face and neck, to play with the line of LaFiamma's sternum. Joe caught the tickling fingers in one hand and brought them to his lips.

"Levon, it will all be role play, you know that, don't you?"

"Yeah," came the uncertain answer. Stronger now, Lundy cleared his throat. "Ah'm having a little more trouble with this than I 'spected." There, he'd spoken his mind. Was easier than he'd thought it would be.

LaFiamma's face was a picture of quiet sympathy. "I'm sorry, Levon. I guess I didn't think about what this would feel like for you. I was just thinking about it like a cop, thinking about catching a killer. Not about how, or what that might do to us."

"Won't do nuthin' to us, we won't let it." Levon said firmly. He pulled the Italian into his arms and hugged him tightly, pressing his nose into the thick dark hair, inhaling deeply.

Joe hugged back and smiled to himself. He didn't know what else might come of this case, but it was bringing them back together and he was relieved about that. Levon actually talking about what he was feeling was another break through, Joey knew and he was grateful for the generosity and courage of his friend. His heart felt ready to burst with his love and happiness at that moment.

*****************

"The jacket is okay," Levon conceded, then added, "don't rightly care for the rest of that stuff though." Fact was, he was very unhappy about the way LaFiamma looked just now, very unhappy. Joe looked ripe for picking - up, which was of course the goal. Thing wuz, it jest didn't sit right with Lundy, and the cowboy knew it.

Joe looked down at himself awkwardly, then went back to examining the effect in the mirror. Despite his friend's concerns, Joe was certain that this was golden, the perfect kind of outfit for attracting the attention they sought. He already had a scenario playing out in his head but hesitated to share it with Levon for fear that the cowboy might not want to go along.

Lundy was watching closely and saw the indecision on the Italian's face. He knew LaFiamma wasn't thinking about the clothing, he was clearly comfortable in the, to Lundy, outrageous outfit. Instead, Joey was holding out on him. "Out with it, LaFiamma."

Joe turned expressive eyes on his blonde cowboy and cocked his head to the side. "I think I see a way to make this work faster, but it means doing some acting."

"We're undercover, LaFiamma. What do you call that?"

"No, I mean in the way we act toward each other - in public."

Intrigued, Lundy waited, then when LaFiamma was not forthcoming, encouraged, "Come on, LaFiamma, spit it out, boy."

The tall, dark Italian came closer to his blonde partner, clearly concerned about being overheard in the changing rooms at this store. "What if we make it look like we're having troubles as a couple and that I might be in the market for new meat."

Levon's head shot back like a rattler ready to strike. His wide brown eyes were full of some undefined emotion, strong but hidden. Damn, that's hittin' close to the bone, Levon thought. LaFiamma stood still, letting Lundy absorb the concept. Levon knew they'd need to talk this over more and in private. "We need to flesh this out a bit, son, but better somewhere's else."

LaFiamma nodded and began to remove the new clothing so that they could make the purchases.

**************************

The area around the Tamarind was deceptively quiet. The music club and bar was at the deep end of an alley, off one of the strips of nightlife in this part of the city. Neither cop was pleased by the setting or lack of people in sight. There was a small, unobtrusive sign, in Arabic-style script, above the inset door. It was illuminated by a series of high intensity spot-lights, tiny but bright.

When they reached the door, it opened and a thin man, dressed in tailored black jumpsuit with red cuffs and collar, points sharp and long, held it. He bowed them in silently, plainly evaluating the two strangers with a penetrating stare. They must have passed the screening because he waved them toward the steps which led downward in a wide spiral, lit with low, hidden lights in a rainbow of colors. The outer walls of the stairwell were old brick, with niches filled with tall amphorae of terra-cotta, unmarked and narrow, standing in black wrought-iron bands with tripod legs. It was all very restrained, elemental.

Then they began to feel the beat, vibrating against their skeletons. Setting their teeth on edge. They continued to follow the curve of the stairs. The music, when they began to hear it was largely bass, rhythmic and heavy, with a melody of rock music riding the crest above these undercurrents.

Levon moved closer behind LaFiamma, putting one hand flat up against the Italian's back. He felt his partner respond with pressure back against the hand. The stairs shallowed out to a low ramp and the channel widened out into an enormous room. The place was full of people, standing at tall pillars, which seemed to hold up the roof, shelves at counter height running like skirts around their bases. Other people were hunched over tables in booths or in alcoves and corners formed by the wavering surrounding wall. A tall protruding wall, encased in glass, held the DJ who was sharing his cubicle with at least one other person. They seemed rather involved at the moment, Lundy thought trying not to gape.

Joe felt the hesitation in his partner and figured that Lundy was new to this kind of place. Joe hadn't been here before, but in Chicago, he knew several and had spent time in two. He put a hand behind to grab Levon's and pull the cowboy up beside him. Standing together, they surveyed the scene. Joe leaned into the slender blonde who automatically put an arm up and around him, then froze. Joe turned to whisper in Levon's ear.

"Relax. Keep your arm there, this is what we're here to do."

Levon suddenly realized that there were no women in the entire place. Most of the men present were dressed in casual or even conservative style, but there were a few more flamboyant types. He instinctively pushed Joe ahead of him toward an empty table. The Italian let him guide them there and sat easily on the curved bench, sliding in to make room for Lundy.

Once settled, Levon resumed his hold on his brunette, more confidently now. Joe smiled at him and moved in for a kiss. He surprised a deep response from the blonde. The deafening music and the constant undertow of conversation was enervating. Levon felt tired and exposed. Somewhere's in here was Carousel, but damned if he could even think, no less figger out how to find the man.

Levon sat back against the bench, his silky rust shirt, all paisley and dark, called attention to his fair skin and blonde good looks. Open at the throat, the silk was just loose enough to move against his skin. It was tucked into the snug fitting deep burgundy suede trousers, which felt like he wuz wearing gloves instead of pants. He shot his cuffs, the links glittering, gold nuggets in the light.

He looked over at his partner. Joe was like some Asian martial artist or disciple of Buddha, his dark black silk pajama outfit was absorbing light rather than reflecting it. The high mandarin collar framed his face, leaving the sallow olive skin smooth and placid below the shining cap of dark, gently falling hair. The pajama bottoms pleated completely around his narrow waist, hiding and revealing when he walked, draping over him now that he sat. Levon was grateful that Joe was further in on the bench and largely hidden by the table. Looking down, he could see that Joe was already aroused. He looked up and found the light blue eyes catching his as Joe shrugged his acknowledgment of his weakness. "For you, love," he murmured, moving his face right up against the Texan's and licking the outside rim of the nearest ear.

Levon shook his head away and leaned back, frowning. He knew they wuz supposed to act this way but ever'one wuz watchin' and it wuz just plain private what Joe and he did t'gether. He frowned some more. Leastways, this playacting was fitting his mood - he felt irritated and thet's how he wuz supposed to be pretendin' to be jest now.

Others were watching the two new arrivals now, some simply curious, others fascinated or even hopeful. So far, no one had approached them, though.

As the current piece of music drew to a close, Lundy noticed that there had been a number of people dancing in among the pillars, near the DJ's stand. They broke off their movements now and stood waiting for the next selection to begin. Picking his way rapidly among them, a young man came swiftly up to their table and produced a small pad. "Can I take yore order?"

Lundy, as they had pre-agreed, answered for both, "Two beers."

"Any particular brand?"

"Got eny on tap?"

"Sure, several, Coors, Bud, Michelob Lite, Pilsner Urquell."

LaFiamma muttered something in his partner's ear.

"A Lite and a Pils." Lundy tugged his partner closer and ignored the waiter now that he'd placed the order. He kissed again, making it plain that this one was his.

After a time, the beers arrived and with them, a fold of paper. Palming the bit of white paper, Levon held it behind the table where they could both read it. 'Put your telephone number on the bill. No way I'm coming near you two in this place. I'll call you tomorrow. Carousel."

Two sets of eyes flicked up and around the room, but there was no way to tell who had written it. Orchid had not been able to give them a physical description of this man, only his deeds. Lundy's face set into a grim look as he sat up, crumpling up the message. He scribbled their new telephone number on the bill, then paid it.

Looking to Joe as the waiter left he asked, "Plan B?" He was not looking forward to the playacting they would now engage in for someone who might not even be here. Damn, he was really unhappy about all this.

"Yeah, guess we shouldn't waste the evening." Joe stood. Lundy sat back, looking stubborn. LaFiamma tried to force his way out of the bench, past the immovable cowboy. His face painted with anger and frustration, looking very like a pout, LaFiamma slid out the other side and stood. He faced Lundy, his whole body communicating his irritation. Lundy pretended to ignore this show.

Joe spun to face the room and stood again, waiting. When nothing happened, he looked over his shoulder and smiled. The smile was slow and not pleasant. His hands came up and he was unbuttoning the loose-fitting black silk jacket, fitted with a row of tiny buttons down the front. Lundy pretended uncaring patience, picking up his beer and sipping it, looking away.

Joe had the entire jacket undone now. He let it slide slowly off his shoulders. By now he had half the room watching with glued attention, quite a few swallowing with difficulty as his heavy, nearly naked torso was exposed. He had on a sheer tank top in some kind of pale blue spandex that gleamed like satin but clung and revealed everything. Around his neck was a powder blue satin ribbon, a small bow at his throat. The hard nubs of his tits pressed out, his washboard of muscles rippling the tank top. Around one large, muscled upper arm was a circle of metal, bright silver, a braid of fine strands of the precious metal, as intricate as any Celtic knot, as wide as two fingers side by side.

Joe's skin was shiny and smooth in the flashing lights of the dance hall. He swung to face Levon now across the table. He could see the worry and anger in his partner's eyes. Lundy no longer seemed to be acting, LaFiamma thought fleetingly as he flung the jacket toward the table where it floated down next to the two tall beer glasses. Joe tipped his head up, looking down his straight nose at his partner, pout firmly in place. He tossed his head theatrically, and twisted away, walking directly out onto the dance floor.

He began to dance slowly, sensuously, alone. He was letting his shoulders rock to the rhythm, losing himself in the sounds with eyes half closed when he felt two very large hands close around his bare forearms and slide suggestively up and down.

Facing him was a tall, sandy looking man, pudding faced but with sharp hazel eyes. Well built and firm, the man was also moving to the beat and smiling encouragingly at LaFiamma. So far no words had been spoken. Joe let himself be pulled closer and smiled up into the face that loomed above his.

"Joe!" The sharp crack of Levon's voice carried through all the hubbub and music. Joe ignored it. "Git yore ass back here now, boy." Lundy must be standing right behind him, LaFiamma decided. He was about to edge closer to 'sandyman' when a new hand gripped one of his shoulders and he was dragged around to face his partner.

"Leave me alone!" Joe raised his head in haughty anger. "I want to dance."

Smack! The sound of Levon's hand connecting with Joe's face was like a gunshot. Men nearby stopped dancing and began to back away. Sandyman, as Joe was thinking of his still silent dance partner, interrupted now. "Hey -"

"Butt out." Levon's voice was cold and commanding. Smaller by far than both his partner and this new man, the cowboy projected such an aura of menace that the sandyman fell back and Joe's shoulders slumped. LaFiamma, very aware of their riveted audience, fingered his cheek. It burned and he could imagine the red outline of a handprint there.

"Now," Levon snarled, one finger hooking into the front of Joe's waistband, "Move. Offa the floor, we're leaving." He pulled and Joe walked forward as if hypnotized, led by the one finger latched onto his middle.

When Joe began to slow, Lundy let go of the pants and grabbed the chin and jaw in an obviously iron grip. "You git yoreself covered and we're outta here." Joe flushed and lowered his eyes, then picked up his discarded jacket from the tabletop and pulled it up over his torso and arms.

A collective sigh was expelled as the buttons closed off sight of most of the brunette. Lundy threw some more bills on the table and then marched out, Joe following reluctantly behind, casting little shy looks to the sides as he left. The message was there for all to read. Those two were a pair but one of the pair was less than enthusiastic and, in fact, seemed interested in expanding his horizons.

The gossip mills were already grinding fine this newest grist as the team reached the top of the stairwell and left through the front door. Levon was still leading, LaFiamma still hanging back but following, a dark shadow again in his black silk pajamas, his feet clad in some kind of dark leather sandals.

**************************

Once out of the bowels of the Tamarind and into the dark, empty alley, both men relaxed slightly. They could not afford to put down their guards completely but they no longer had hundreds of eyes on them either. Lundy slowed slightly and waited for LaFiamma to catch up, then pulled the tall Italian into a tension-tight hug.

LaFiamma felt the cowboy's trembling through the hug. He squeezed back and held on. Neither said a word. Finally, Levon's shakes diminished and he and Joe walked back out on to the main thoroughfare. Here the lights were brighter and the streets becoming surprisingly full and busy though it was now nearly midnight. Strolling along, Joe slid his arm through Levon's, knowing that they made a striking appearance together in their finery.

They garnered some raised eyebrows but no comments from others conducting the passaggiata, the evening parade of flesh on these very exclusively gay streets of Houston. Levon began to wonder at the expressions until he spared a glance up at Joe. The red hand print on Joe's face was still vivid and looked likely to turn into a bruise. He ducked his head unhappily. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was mark his lover that way.

Joe watched the changes on Levon's face and realized that this was not working tonight, they had overstrained Lundy's ability to play out this particular scenario. Joe pulled the trapped arm of his lover tighter against his own body and tilted his mouth down to the nearby ear. "Enough for one night, don't you think?"

Gratitude in the brown eyes answered any doubts Joe might have had. Lundy swung them around and back towards where they'd parked their vehicle. That's when they faced their next surprise of the evening.

Behind them, a group of rather large men had gathered and had been following. The four were all Caucasian, tall, light brown to blonde hair, and heavily built. Dressed in what appeared to be some sort of uniform, brown shirts and trousers, an emblem of what looked like a lightning bolt on chest pockets, they too stopped and now faced the two undercover cops.

The area around the two groups emptied in a few quick moments. Men simply melted into doorways, down alleys, or backed away. LaFiamma released Lundy's arm, letting his own drop to his sides. He felt Lundy stiffening at his side. They each stood easily balanced with knees flexed and a slight forward tilt to their bodies. They didn't know what they were facing but they were as ready as they could be.

The four brown-uniformed men facing them spread out now, forming a long arc in front of the pair. So far, no one had spoken. Now, the tallest of the foursome said, "Lover's quarrel?"

Joe knew that his face was still bright with Levon's slap. Is this an invite to a party? he wondered.

A second of the men spoke now. "Can anyone play?"

Lundy took a short pace forward and curled a lip at them. "We ain't botherin' no one. You jest find someone else to play with, boys."

"But yore boyfriend looks like tender meat, cowboy." This was the tallest again, perhaps the leader. "Tasty, yes. And I'd say you was not being very good to him."

Joe stepped forward now, even again with his partner. "I'm just fine where I am, thanks. Just had a small misunderstanding. Solved it and we're heading home."

No guns, no guns, the litany kept running through Levon's head as he weighed up their chances in the confrontation they'd somehow become embroiled in. He was more worried about his partner than himself. That outfit Joe had on was no protection at all, and an invitation in a way.

Evidently the other men thought so too. After a quick exchange of looks and nods, the four closed the distance, two hauling off at Lundy's arms, the other two grabbing at LaFiamma.

Levon had tried to shake them loose but their towered over him and held his arms in iron grips. They lifted and he was suspended in the air, kicking wildly, twisting to try to do damage. With a vicious shake, they held on and Lundy's world went dark as the motion snapped his head back. Levon hung between the two men.

Joe had dealt a quick kick and chop to the first man who now sprawled on the sidewalk, also unconscious. The second man got under LaFiamma's guard as he was recovering his balance from the preemptive strike. The swift jab into his side was punishing. Joe rocked on his feet, hands up to defend himself when he saw, from the corner of his eye, his partner's black out. "Lundy!" Joe whirled to grab at the men holding the cowboy, to knock them away and free his partner. He never even saw the blow that landed on the back of his neck.

*********************

"Sugar, honey, you okay?" The falsetto was worried, concerned, not threatening. Levon swam up to consciousness slowly, fighting his way through veils of darkness. There was a sharp pain at his neck, one in his side. Someone was holding him partly off the ground, supporting him.

Blinking away the last of the clinging fog, Levon opened his eyes to sky blue ones. The bright eyes were surrounded by heavy mascara, the face heavily powdered and rouged. Bouncy blonde hair framed the worried face. "Yeah. I'm okay."

He tried to sit up more and the supporting arm helped. Everything wavered for a moment and the ache in his side felt like a deep bruise. Looking around now, he saw he was in the alcove of a closed store's entry. The sidewalk in front of him was full again, men in various states of dress parading up and down, many walking arm in arm with others. Few spared glances his way.

His companion was dressed in a sequined dress, a full evening gown, such as a chanteuse might wear. 'She' was about his size, he decided and beginning to show a bit of evening shadow. Beyond her was a man standing impatiently in the background, looking at his watch, not them.

"Babs, we got to go or you're gonna be late for your show."

"Conway, I am NOT going to leave this poor boy like this. Those monsters have struck again, our streets aren't safe anymore. Someone has to take a stand!"

Levon was thoroughly confused now. But beyond that, he suddenly realized that Joe was no where to be seen. "LaFiamma! Where's my partner?...my friend?" He was asking the wrong people he figgered as he saw the looks of incomprehension on their faces.

"Honey, you were here alone when we found you." Babs helped him to stand. "Conway asked around, someone said the brown shirts got you. If you had a friend, they must still have him."

Eye-level now with the slender, shapely man in drag, Levon found himself responding to 'her' as if 'she' were a real woman. "Ma'am, thank you fur yore help. Did yore friend find out where they went?"

Babs' companion had stepped up beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. "One of the streetwalkers said they'd dragged someone off into the alley up the street, on this side." He gestured with his chin.

Levon's eyes widened, fearful for Joe. He nodded his thanks and left the couple. With quick strides, he headed up the street toward the indicated alleyway trying to ignore some recurring dizziness. He had no idea how long it had been, but if Babs and Conway hadn't seen anything themselves, then Joe had been in trouble for a while now.

When he reached it, the alley looked empty. Hesitating, glancing back over his shoulder, he was getting ready to leave when he heard a sound. Like a whimper. Head snapping back around he was running into the darkened passageway. "Joe! Joey?"

A cough and another whimper answered him, further back, past some large dumpsters against one wall of the alley. Reaching the source, he saw a bundle of dark cloth heaped on the ground. Then the heap stirred.

"Oh, god, Joe!" Levon was down on his knees, pulling the limp body into his arms. A sharp cry froze his actions. LaFiamma was hurting and the movement was not helping. Easing the man back on to the ground, the blonde gently straightened limbs and brushed back hair from the dirt-smeared face. The Italian was only semi-conscious. "Easy, Chi, easy."

Levon's busy fingers searched amid the shreds of black clothing. Finding the waistband torn apart, the cloth in little better than strips at the back, he suspected worse and reached back to touch Joe's spine and buttocks.

The brunette's eyes opened, terror making them look black. "It's me, Joey, it's Levon. Yore safe now, boy, jest let me check you. Can you talk?"

"Levon? Oh, god, it hurts so bad." Joe launched himself into his lover's arms and clung tightly, grunting with pain but holding on anyway. He put his head against the cowboy's chest, face pressed into the silky shirt. Lundy leaned over him protectively, laying one arm down to wrap around his boy's back.

"We got to get you to a doctor, son. Can you stand?"

"No, no doctor. I'll...I'll be all right. Just help me to stand, take me home." LaFiamma's was quieter now, calmer. But Joe had not relinquished his grasp of Lundy's torso where his arms had clamped around the cowboy.

"Do you need any help?" It was Babs calling from the mouth of the alley. She stood there in the neon lighting, looking vivacious and concerned, Conway a tall shape behind her.

Lundy looked down at his armful of Italian and decided that help would be right welcome. "Yes, ma'am, thet would be good. My boy is hurt and I'm not certain ah kin lift him alone."

"Conway, help the cowboy, please." The imperious tones produced results.

The tall serious man, who joined Levon, helped lift LaFiamma to his feet. The extent of the damage was easier to see now, Joe's outfit was hanging in tatters from him.

"Oh, poor baby," murmured Babs as she came into the alley to touch the Italian's face where it rested against Levon's shoulder. Turning to her man, she said, "Conway, give him your jacket. This poor boy needs something to cover up with."

The large evening jacket enveloped LaFiamma and hung to mid-thigh on him from its drape across his shoulders. It did provide a modicum of privacy. "Much obliged, ma'am, Conway," Levon said, getting a better grip on LaFiamma. The Italian was listening, Levon could tell, but not talking. Sure sign things were not well.

"Where is your car?""

"About a block from here," Lundy answered, eyes on Joe.

"Give your keys to Conway, he'll fetch it and I'll stay here with you." Babs was evidently used to giving orders because Levon found himself responding, digging out the keys and handing them over. Conway wasn't arguing, looked resigned, used to his 'lady's' vagaries.

Joe was slumped against Levon now, going in and out of consciousness. Levon had pulled one arm over his own shoulders to help support his lover. He stood now, grateful for the help from this good Samaritan and waited for their truck to arrive.

Babs leaned close and spoke again. "I don't know your names, but you two are new to the strip and I guess those bastards thought they had a clear shot at your friend here. I'm really sorry, most of us are much nicer. Once your friend is better, you two come over to my place and we'll talk. I own the Blue Dahlia, perform there. Conway is my manager, and a dear friend."

The red Jimmy filled the end of the alley as it pulled to a stop in front of them. Together with Conway's help, Levon got LaFiamma up into the front seat then gave Conway back his jacket with a nod of thanks. Lundy kept one hand on Joe's chest to hold him against the seat as Levon turned to thank their helpers. Babs waved and walked on down the street on Conway's arm, not looking back.

Levon faced his partner now. In the light of the street lamps and interior light of the Jimmy, LaFiamma looked tired and bruised. Joe didn't have any new marks on his face, but Levon was more concerned about other injuries. He carefully strapped Joe into the seat and closed the door.

Levon thought hard about whether to go to the ranch or to their new apartment. The deciding factor was that big bath. It would help with most of the bruises and ease a lot of pain, so he ended up turning the truck toward their new place, keeping a worried eye on his partner the whole way. Joe sat numbly, head back against the headrest eyes shut.

When they reached the apartment, Joe was conscious again and able to stand on his own. With Lundy's help, LaFiamma managed to get out of the truck and up to the front of the old house. Levon wasn't too sure about the two flights of stairs to their apartment but grimly started up them, supporting Joe's faltering steps.

They had to stop several times to let LaFiamma rest, but Levon's relief was short lived when they reached the landing to their apartment and Joe sank to his knees. "Aw, Joe, we're almost there, boy. We still gotta git you inside."

LaFiamma muttered something about being so tired, but he tipped forward on to his hands and crawled toward the door. Levon quickly opened it and walked slowly beside his friend, keeping fingers in contact with his back.

... end of part 3: "...cut o' his clothes..."

Part 4...

I'll love you in buckskin
Or shirts that are homespun
But I'll love ya'longer, stronger where
Yer friends don't tote a gun

Inside the apartment, Levon closed the door and sank to the floor beside LaFiamma. The Italian just toppled into his arms. "Joey?" Levon's arms circled the broad shoulders and held his lover tight against him.

"Levon, I hurt 'n I'm tired." Joe groaned softly.

"We'll take care o'that soon's ah kin git you inna tub." Levon's Texan strong in his anxiety. He stroked the arms he held and laid his cheek alongside Joe's. "Tell me what they did to you."

LaFiamma hunched suddenly and his head went down. Silence. [Oh, Levon, how can I tell you what they did? I can barely stand to think of it myself.] Joe felt ashamed and dirty. He tried to pull free from his friend's embrace but Lundy was having none of that.

"They raped you, didn't they?"

Now the brunette shuddered in Levon's arms and tried again to break away. "Stop that! You'll hurt yoreself! Joe. Joey? Lissen to me. Nothin's changed between us, ah still love you. Ah hope you still love me?" Levon butterflied soft kisses across the wrinkled brow in front of him.

Finally, LaFiamma looked up. "Yeah." He closed his eyes, face pained. "Gang bang, I think you'd call it. They took turns holding me down and doin' me." He opened his eyes and looked away. "They kept saying I was pretty meat and they were hungry." His voice shook with revulsion.

"THEY are dead meat, pardner. We'll see they never see another day." Levon's hard tones cut through LaFiamma's misery. The brunette grabbed hold and clung to his partner's shoulders.

"No, Levon. No. I'll be okay. Really. Ain't like I'm a virgin or anything. It was just so humiliating. I felt so helpless." He shook his head and, eyes clearing, the blue changing to a teal, almost green light, he said, "It's okay. We'll get them the right way. I'm not their first victim. But, they didn't kill me..."

Levon sat back on his heels and pondered this, keeping Joe close to his chest, arms still wrapped around the brunette. "You mean these men aren't what we came in looking for? Yeah, I see what you mean." He paused to consider that, rubbing Joe's shoulders gently, absent-mindedly. "Looks like we'll be doing more than one case here. We still have that call from Carousel to git, tomorrow...umm, today," he corrected himself.

Joe rested for a moment more against his blonde, then stirred. "I think I can get up now if you'll give me hand."

Lundy hugged for a moment then braced Joe and rose to his feet. "Shore, pardner." Taking Joe's hand, he helped the heavier man stand and took one arm over his shoulder, leading him toward their bathroom.

Joe looked regretfully down at his ruined outfit. "Too bad," he murmured. Levon gave him a puzzled look, then seemed to realize what Joe was talking about.

"You don't want to wear that git-up agin enyways. We'll git you some new duds, but maybe not so sexy."

Joe flashed a weary grin. "You thought they were sexy?"

"Whaa-ellllll, not them 'xactly. More you in'em." Levon managed to blush even as he half-carried his friend into the tiled bathroom and settled him on the low edge of the large bath.

"Yeah?" Joe smiled up at the blonde.

"Yep." Levon was divesting himself of his clothes now. He hid his grin beneath his shirt as he pulled it off over his head. Wriggling out of his glove-tight suede pants and smooth black boots, he reached over and turned on the tap water, adjusting the mix to medium-hot. He glanced back at Joe who was simply sitting there in his own ragged clothes, admiring the blonde's body possessively. Levon couldn't miss that light in Joe's eyes. Good. The boy was bouncin' back well, better'n I expected."Come on, Joe, let's get you outta that stuff."

It took both of them to pull the clothes off the brunette. The tattered jacket and trousers fell away easily, and the sandals dropped off. The neck ribbon that the Italian had been wearing was gone, a dark mark on the neck to show where it had been ripped free without being untied. The spandex tank top, though, offered a real challenge. It had become soaked with blood and filth and stuck to Joey's skin. In the end, Levon got scissors out of the first aid kit in the bathroom toiletries cabinet and cut it off. Joe studied the pile of ruined clothing with the strangest expression - a mixture of regret and revulsion.

Levon coughed to cover the laugh that had bubbled up. It wouldn't do to have Joe think he was being laughed at, even lovingly. Not jest now. Memories of the last few hours sobered the Texas cop. "Okay, Joe, let's git you in the water."

Lundy stepped over the edge of the tub and standing knee deep in the water, helped his partner into the tub. The tile built affair was more than double the size of a normal tub and had a low bench or step against one side. It was well constructed so that there were no sharp edges, even to the step, just smooth curves and roundings. The Jacuzzi attachment was removable and had to be pulled down into the water, rather like an outboard motor on a boat. Levon eyed it. Not yet. Mebbe after he'd finished washing his boy and checking him over for damages.

Joe let himself be steered and tugged onto Lundy's lap in the water, relishing the contact with his lover, the warmth of the water and the smell of soap. Levon was careful but thorough. He wasn't taking Joe's word for it, he'd check for any serious injuries. Soaping his hands, he ran them over his beloved's body, smoothing on lather and then washing it away.

LaFiamma winced as soap stung various scrapes and abrasions, but Levon didn't find anything too bad. [Joe must hurt though, they's a lot of marks on 'im.]

Finally, Levon thought that the Italian seemed to be relaxed enough. It was time to check his genitals and anus. He rubbed his hands with some antibiotic/antiseptic cream that he'd put on the edge of the tub when he'd got out the first aid kit earlier. He spoke directly into the brunette's ear now, "Joe, I hafta check out your privates now, make sure nothing is damaged bad."

LaFiamma nodded resignedly. "Do it." He slid to the side in Lundy's lap to allow for better access. Levon leaned forward and kissed his northerner before proceeding. With careful, gentle fingers, he stroked, prodded and squeezed Joe's penis and balls. Although clearly uncomfortable, Joe showed no pain nor did Levon see any signs of injury except for some bruising to the general groin area.

"Turn over, baby." Levon's voice was little more than a whisper, but Joe obeyed easily, rolling onto his stomach and coming up on to his knees and hands. He offered his buttocks to his lover. Levon put more cream on his hands, then knelt close by and gently separated the cheeks. He could feel the jerk in LaFiamma at the contact there, but the Italian remained in his grasp. "Easy, Joe."

He delicately touched the tight wrinkle of skin at the anus, no tearing visible, he thought with relief. Then, with infinite care, he inserted one finger into the hole, pushing at the ring of muscle. Joe shifted and grunted. Levon pulled the finger out. [No blood.] He sighed in relief. He applied more cream to the finger and its adjoining ones, then began to force the cream up into the hole, loosing the muscle ring and spreading the medicine gently. Joe had been silent and unmoving but sighed when Levon finished - ending with a soft loving stroke to the pucker of flesh.

"All done. You look okay down there, no tearing or bleeding."

Joe sunk into the water and rolled back around to face Lundy. "Told you, most of the damage was to my pride." He shrugged and grimaced. "Body still hurts a bit, there was a lot of pounding, but I'll be okay."

"You look mighty good from here," Levon smiled, lounging back in the warm water and hooking elbows over a tub edge.

"You," LaFiamma glided through the water and bumped up against his partner, flicking his hair back with a toss of his head, "look terrific!" He climbed the narrow body and lay against the slender, strong chest, finding and kissing those, oh, so kissable lips.

Joe was so relieved to be safe in his cowboy's arms that he didn't give a damn just then if they ever left that bath. Everything had been so sore, and he'd felt so dirty, used. Now he felt better, cleaner and loved. Safe.

Levon rested there with Joe in his arms until he felt the strong regular breathing begin to slow. Joe had fallen asleep. Good. Sleep always helped with healin' - all sorts of healin' - ever'thin' from physical injuries to emotional traumas. Yeah, sleep would help Joe and that meant enythin' else that Levon might have a hankerin' for would have to wait for another time. He looked regretfully at the Jacuzzi motor, but decided that right now, the heated water soaking and the gentle soaping was all that Joey needed. Mebbe later, mebbe tomorrow, they could climb back in here and explore this tub proper. Levon smiled and kissed the top of the brunette's head.

*****************

In the end Levon had to rouse LaFiamma, as the tub's water cooled and Joe showed no signs of waking. With the drowsy Italian half-slumped against him, Levon managed to get them both out of the tub and dried off, then into the bedroom where Levon lowered Joe onto their bed and covered him with a blanket. For a moment, Lundy stood there and looked at the man lying on the bed. Ex-Chicago cop, Joseph LaFiamma had only been down here in Texas for about three years now. He'd become Lundy's partner, then his friend, and, only six months ago, his lover. Levon Elmer Lundy was now linked inextricably with this northerner, someone he hadn't even known a little over three years ago. Levon folded his arms and leaned against the doorjamb, studying the brunette, who slept on in their new bed. Joe was the center of his universe now and he wouldn't have it any other way. For a while there, they'd been having trouble finding a way to make their new relationship work. He blamed himself for much of the difficulty, he'd been his usual reticent self. Not told Joe when Joe's constant intimacy had become too overwhelming for the loner in Lundy. They'd just begun to get that straightened out, thanks to their strong love and the help of friends.

Levon remembered the conversation he'd had with Annie Hartung only a few days earlier. She'd had Joe down to her office on some pretext and whatever had been said, the brunette had come back looking happier than in a long time. Then Annie had reappeared in the doorway of the MCU bullpen and called out to Levon.

"Levon, I wonder if you could sit with me for a spell? I have a puzzle that needs another brain on it."

He'd answered, "Shore, Annie." And flashed a look of suspicion at LaFiamma who wouldn't meet his eyes, the brunette had his head buried in files at their adjoining desks. Shrugging, Lundy had walked out to join Annie in the hall and gone down to her tiny office, holding the door for her as she pushed her wheelchair into the small room.

"Levon, close the door and set down with me."

Lundy had done that. Then she'd proceeded to give him the third degree. And a lecture on talking, telling people what bothered him. He'd finally broken in to her diatribe to say that she was right, that he'd do it. At least, he'd try.

She had sat there with her mouth hanging open for a moment, then her whole demeanor changed from concerned and almost schoolmarmish to happy friend. Her lovely smile lit her face and she placed her thin, delicate fingers on his wrists. "Oh, Levon, honey, I'm so glad. You and Joe are so good together, you give the rest of us such hope for the future when we can see a love like that blossom."

Levon had blushed at this, stuttered something about trying to make it better with Joey. Be more understanding, tell Joe what he was feeling instead of bottlin' everything up inside.

Annie kissed him lightly on the cheek and touched his shirtfront in a familiar gesture of caring. "Levon, you are such a good man. You're so lucky to have Joe love you, too. I know you love him, I can see it in your eyes. You make it better now, hon, and I won't bother you anymore."

"Twern't no bother, Annie," he'd said, "mebbe I needed a kick in the pants. Ah don't want to lose the boy, when ah jest found him. Thanks." He kissed her back on her cheek and left, intent on mending fences. Beaumont's assignment came up so soon after that that they'd barely had time for themselves since.

Standing here now, watching Joey sleep, thinking about them, thinking about what had just happened to Joey, Levon was full of thankfulness that his lover was alright and that their love was still strong. He felt as if he'd die if he lost this man, even the few moments of panic and despair earlier in the evening before he found his partner had been enough to cut his heart open, make him feel a black emptiness open up before him.

Gotta call Joanne, he decided, coming away from the doorjamb. Gotta tell her about the rape and the perpetrators. We need to have it on record that this was reported in right away. She can make notes on it, then they'd squelch it for now, so's not to spoil the ongoing investigations undercover, but those four boys were gonna go down, Levon promised himself. He'd do it the right way, like Joe wanted, though he'd a made them disappear, with the help of a few friends iffn Joe had jest said the word. Trouble wuz, Joe was such an honorable cop, at times, Levon felt almost humble next to his friend.

Quietly, he closed the door to the bedroom and went into the living room to make the call. Beaumont answered on the first ring. "Joanne, it's me, Levon." He listened for moment, then continued. "I gotta report a crime. Thing is, we don't want nuthin' done about it fur a while. It'd mess up our case here." During the pause, as he listened to Beaumont's questions, he marshaled his thoughts and arguments. "We made first contact with Carousel, he's gonna call us today. We also met up with two folks who might be a help - names are Conway, a big galloot who manages a place called the Blue Dahlia... yeah... and someone goes by the name o' Babs and says she's the owner of the Blue Dahlia.... Ah, no, actually she's a he... in drag, uh-huh... enyway, they gave us a hand last night, and Babs suggested we drop by the Dahlia today to chat when Joey is better... yeah, thet's what I'm calling about. We wuz assaulted on the main strip, near the Tamarind. Me? Jest beat up a bit, nuthin' ah cain't handle. ....yeah, it was Joey got it...four men. They knocked me out and then took Joe inta an alley..." Levon swallowed hard, blinking away sudden moisture at his eyes, "and raped him."

There was silence at the other end of the line, then Beaumont was asking questions rapid-fire. "No, Joanne, he's okay. I checked him over myself. He's in bed now, sleepin'. He's the one thet pointed out that these jerks couldn't be our target, they didn't kill him... yeah... jest left him in the alley... so ah'm jest reporting the incident for our records but you take no action yet, Joanne, you hear? ...umm, yeah, Joey's gonna be fine, he's the one who suggested we do it right so's we kin put them away, likely they done this afore from what Babs said."

After a few more exchanges and promises to keep her updated, Levon hung up the telephone. A sudden sixth sense told him he wuz no longer alone. Spinning around he faced his partner who stood stonily in the doorway, draped in the blanket that had been over him on the bed.

Levon narrowed his eyes, "You heard?"

LaFiamma nodded. "Yeah, most of it. Enough. Had to call her so soon?"

The blonde sighed, "Better that way, Joe, you know that. It won't go further than her, she'll bury it for now. Jest need to have it on record and timely. Thet's all." He added hopefully, "She said to tell you she hopes you're okay."

"'m okay." The dark haired Italian shrugged the blanket up higher on his shoulders and pulled it tight in front with crossed arms. "Just missed you." Blue eyes, the color of slate now, met the chocolate brown ones of his lover.

Levon was over in three fast strides, wrapping his arms around the blanketed bundle that was his lover, kissing gently at pouty lips. "I love you so much, Joe."

LaFiamma emerged from the kiss and pecked Lundy's nose tip with another. "Love you, too, cowboy." Before either could say anything more, the telephone rang.

"Beaumont calling back?" Joe asked.

Lundy shook his head negatively, "Not likely."

He released Joe and went back over to the telephone, turning to watch LaFiamma half-walk, half-stumble into the room and drop down onto the large couch. "Yes?"

Levon listened and then was grabbing a pen and paper from the coffee table where he'd put them what seemed like years ago... yesterday.

After scribbling briefly, he spoke again. "Okay, at ten. We'll be there." He hung up and stared at his notes for a moment before looking back up at LaFiamma. "That was Carousel. He said he'd meet with us this morning at ten, at a bar over on Haggerty, one street over from the strip. Asked that we both come."

Joe's fingers flexed on the edges of blanket he was holding. "What time is it now?"

Levon glanced at the pendulum wall clock. "'bout 3:30 in the morning."

Joe closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the couch back. "Joey?" Levon spoke again. "How 'bout we go to bed fur awhile, jest sleep?"

LaFiamma's mouth curled into a warm smile. "Sounds good. You wanna help me get back in there?"

Going to his partner, Levon reached down and helped him to his feet, then kept a hand on his shoulder as they wandered back into the bedroom.

Climbing into the bed, both were asleep within minutes.

************************

"Hey, boy, how you feelin'?" Lundy's quiet voice made LaFiamma smile as he turned from contemplating the ceiling of their bedroom.

He started to stretch, then at the cacophony of twinges and cramps, thought better of it, rolling instead closer to his lover.

"Like a mile of bad road, huh?" Levon sympathized softly, enfolding the Italian in a warm embrace, careful not to press anything too hard.

Joe grinned through their kiss. When lips parted company, he said, "Levon, you Texans have a saying for everything."

Lundy smiled back, eyes twinkling. He relaxed onto his back and looked up at the ceiling now, "Yep, but that's because we've already done ever'thin' and seed ever'thin'." He knew that would get an additional rise outta his partner. Shore enough, a pillow landed on his face, then a heavy warm body landed on top of his.

Levon shook the pillow off with a twist of his neck, then looked up into the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. Joe hung above him for a moment. "Thanks for everything last night. I wasn't doing too well."

"How 'bout now?" Lundy turned serious again.

"I'll live. Been better but I can manage." Joe glanced over to the side, evidently spotting the bedside clock. "Looks like we need to get going, it's already nine AM and we hafta be at that bar by ten."

"Yeah." Levon snaked his arms up around his boy and pulled the brunette down and close, kissing him thoroughly.

Released, Joe smiled and touched Levon's face for a moment, then rolled free of the bed and walked toward the bathroom, "I'll start the shower water running."

***********************

Joe adjusted his shirt collar, the high necked Nehru jacket was a kind of burgundy color, but the sheen was metallic, giving it the look of old burnished bronze. The fabric was hand-spun, woven madras cloth from India. From the outside of the collar, he hung a long string of iridescent black beads, in another era, they'd have been called love beads. Now they just reminded him of his rosary, tucked away in the top drawer of his dresser. He'd put the silver armband there, too, all that was left of his outfit from the previous night. He paused to shudder momentarily at the memories, only to feel a warm hand on his back.

Turning, he found Levon standing there watching him. "I'm okay, really, just thinking about last night again." Joe's voice was level, calm. He hoped Levon believed him because it really was true. He was all right, thanks to his partner, lover. They'd get those bastards eventually, meanwhile there was business to do.

Lundy nodded and didn't answer right away, but handed Joe a small derringer. "You still got thet fancy holster for your leg?"

Nodding, Joe accepted the small gun, checking it carefully for load and safety, then went to his chest of drawers and brought out the holster Levon had asked about. He strapped it to his calf and added the gun before pulling on the plain, stovepipe pants, narrow and tight, black cord. He adjusted the gun lower, toward his ankle, in order to be able to get to it in the pants.

Levon was putting a second small gun into a special holder inside his right boot. Legs O'Brien had given it to him at the end of the Lorenzo case, Joe's and his first undercover assignment. At the time, she'd said she just wanted to make sure they both had back ups and she knew about Joe's hideaway gun already. He was grateful for the small armament now, though at the time he'd accepted it only to humor Carol O'Brien, his friend.

He tugged the boots, brown leather ones this time, up over dark blue straight leg Levi's. Then he pulled on a finely sewn tan buckskin shirt that he'd bought out at one of the reservations the last time he'd been in central Texas visiting some of his grandpappy's Texas Ranger friends. The finely worked leather was so soft and smooth that it felt like cloth. The light yellow-white color was like warmed butter. A fringed edge hemmed the bottom and along the under seam of both sleeves. The open neck collar ended in more fringe that turned to tassels tied off with abalone shell beads, glowing pearlescent in the light. The shirt hung on his wide-shouldered, thin frame, swinging freely, making the fringes and tassels dance. He fixed a long, dark leather rawhide strip down around his neck, a small old-lookin' leather bag depending from it, half hidden inside the neckline of the shirt. The bag had been worked with tiny beads and had some bits of bird feather, like fluff, hanging from it. It had a lumpy look, like there was something inside.

"Ready, cowboy?" Came his partner's voice from the front room. Levon checked the mirror once, before carefully setting his light tan Stetson on top of his head, his blonde curls pressed down and swept back to the nape of his neck.

Joe looked positively charmed by Lundy's appearance. Licking his lips, he walked up to the westerner and smiled slowly, pressing close to feel the body warmth through the buckskin. Levon responded with a hip grinding kiss, hands clamped tight on Joe's ass cheeks, which were round and tight, like he liked them, in the black cords.

For a moment, both contemplated remaining there, then each pulled back, mutual smiles of regret and longing met as they came free. "Gotta go." Levon said.

"Yeah," Joe agreed.

*******************************

The bar, called "Oysters," was only a few cross-streets down from the Tamarind, on the next street over from the strip, but on the other side of it from the dance club. The front was rather plain, just brown shingle, with a wide wood door, the sign in neon, covered the entire second floor of the front in bold block letters, even in the daylight the neon was blazing an orangish-pink color, framed in a white lit neon border. If there'd ever been a window, the shingles and wood had covered them. A small sign was attached to the door itself, a kind of metal frame like a car license plate might have. Slid inside was a rather spotted paper sign that said OPEN in red letters.

The detectives had left their Jimmy parked on a nearby cross street, largely empty at the mid-morning hour. The strip, they noticed as they drove through, was asleep. It was so deserted that it was hard to imagine the bustling nightlife that had filled it only hours before.

Walking together, shoulders touching, they came around the corner and up the street to the bar. Oysters had a couple of oldish looking cars and one tall private van parked in front. The van carried a handicapped sign hanging from the rearview mirror and on the license plates.

Blocking instincts to burst into the bar with guns in hands, the two approached the door with caution. At a nod from LaFiamma, Lundy pulled the handle and opened the door, letting the Italian enter ahead of him. He followed closely.

The inside of the bar was dim. Daylight had no entry. A bar ran along the wall to their left, with low lighting, a short, squat looking woman standing there wiping a row of glasses. She ignored them. LaFiamma scanned the room. There was only one other occupant, a man sitting at a table way in the back, near a sign for toilets. The table was in the corner, not a booth, but a round table with several chairs. The man, arms on the table, had a cup of coffee in front of him, and a tall bottle.

Lundy touched LaFiamma's wrist, made a motion with his eyes and then strode forward toward the seated customer. Joe, at Levon's signal, had hung back, looking around and watching for trouble.

Levon's eyebrows rose for a moment as he approached the table and realized that the man was sitting in a wheelchair. Dark brown eyes rose to meet Lundy's and the man, fortyish and grizzled looking, smiled. "You from Orchid?"

"Yeah, you 'Carousel?'"

"That's what I'm called, real name's Tyler, Tyler Hogan." He looked past Lundy toward LaFiamma who had stopped near the bar. "You and your friend want to join me so we can talk?"

Lundy nodded, and made a short motion with his chin to LaFiamma. The Italian casually walked past the two men and out the door marked toilets. He returned just as Lundy was seating himself. "Nothin.'" The ex-Chicago cop joined them and sat, giving no indication that he had noticed the wheelchair.

Hogan turned to LaFiamma now, his receding hairline gray-brown, his forehead shiny. "Tyler Hogan, folks call me Carousel."

LaFiamma nodded, then looked to Lundy to play it out. The Texan spoke slowly, "You kin call me Levon and this here is my friend, Joe."

Carousel eyed the brunette slyly, "Once known as "The Italian Stallion?"

Both men stiffened and looked alarmed. Hogan was quick to reassure them. "Relax. None of my business. I did see you fight one time though, you were good, even if the other guy didn't seem to be trying too hard. Orchid is pretty popular 'round here. I try to see some of the matches because of him, even though he don't know me personal."

LaFiamma folded his hands on the table but didn't speak. Lundy picked up the conversation. "Orchid's a friend o' ours. Joe don't wrestle eny more. He's retired. We jest moved inta Houston and heard tell, from Orchid - who's heard a'you, thet you might be able ta hep us with somethin'."

Carousel nodded. "Saw you two come into the Tamarind. Woulda talked then, but you two were attracting too much attention for me to talk with you like that. I figured this would be more private."

Joe suddenly spoke, "You were in the Tamerind?"

Hogan gave a short sharp bark of laughter. "You mean the stairs? I'm a good friend of the management and they let me use the freight elevator." He didn't elaborate.

Levon picked up the conversation. "A good friend of ours was kilt here recently." This is where the homework he and LaFiamma had done would pay off. "Name of Tommy Lee Harper."

"You mean one of the boys that serial killer got to?" Hogan looked grim.

"Yes. We want to do somethin' about that. Bring that bastard to accounts."

Carousel reached out and took the neck of the cheap bottle of brandy, poured enough into his cup to put the level back to full. "How about some coffee?" Not waiting for an answer, he called over their heads to the woman at the bar, "Hey, Sheila, bring over a couple of cups of coffee." She waved slightly and turned to the large coffee urn at the back of the bar.

Looking back at the two detectives now, he said, "Hope you like it black." He pushed the bottle to the center of the table. "This'll ease the bitterness in the flavor."

The two cops looked at each other and waited.

Sheila appeared with two white crockery cups of coffee and placed them, with saucers, on the table, then left without a word.

Carousel seemed lost in thought and Lundy helped himself and Joe to some of the brandy. They could both use a little something for the aches and pains from last night.

"Heard tell that the brown shirts gave you two a welcome out on the strip last night."

Joe flushed and looked down at his cup. Levon could feel the shame radiating from his friend. He reached across and laid a gentle hand on Joe's face, turning it toward him. He did it because he could, there was something to be said for living the truth within this undercover assignment. He tucked his head to the side and leaned in to place an easy kiss on Joe's sad mouth. The blue eyes looked startled, then grateful, as LaFiamma's hand came up to cover Levon's at his face. They simply looked at each other for another moment, then Levon dropped his hand to the table and captured Joe's, which he held tight.

"Yeah." Levon knew his voice had altered, become cold, hard. "They had a little party with Joe. I aim to see thet it's their last."

"The brown shirts are poison." Hogan had watched the interplay between the partners and something about the casual openness of their love had reassured him. "I don't think they have anything to do with the killings but if you can stop those creatures, there'll be a lot of grateful folk here."

Joe spoke now. "And the killer?"

Hogan nodded. "Get him and we'll be dancin' in the street." He smiled humorlessly when both detectives automatically looked down at his wheelchair. "Figuratively speaking for some of us."

When neither undercover cop answered this, Hogan flushed and pushed back from the table. Able to see all of the man for the first time, they saw that he ended at mid-thigh on both sides, no legs. Hogan waited for them to look, then pulled back in to the table and took a sip of his coffeed brandy. "Lost 'em both in Nam. A land mine." He sighed and looked up at them. "The marines aren't too partial to gays, didn't spend a lot o' time trying to rescue me. When I finally got to an aide station, it was too late to save them."

There didn't seem to be anything to say to that. Hogan stayed quiet for a bit and the two cops tasted their coffee and brandy mixtures. When Hogan spoke again, it was clear he had put the past back into its box. "There isn't a lot anyone knows about the boys who got killed. Each of them was out dancing with friends, not alone. Then they each disappeared directly from the dance floors. Next time anyone saw them, they were dead. Two were found in an alley behind the Tamarind. One was outside by the kitchen dumpster at the Blue Dahlia."

Joe and Levon exchanged looks at the mention of Bab's place.

Hogan continued. "Whoever did it had fun first," he exhaled loudly, "if you can call it fun to brutalize someone, cut'em up pretty raw, then strangle them."

"What we need is street talk, stuff you might not hear iffn you wuz police," Levon encouraged.

"Yeah, they ain't done much, have they?" Hogan shook his head. "Never even done anything about the brown shirts and so no one's particularly surprised. Gays don't get much sympathy from cops."

Joe leaned forward, both hands circling his cup. "If you hear anything, will you give us a call?"

Hogan studied the two men considerately. "You sure you're okay after what happened last night?"

The question seemed to be to both of them, but Joe answered. "I'm okay. I'll be better when Levon and I get those jerks behind bars, but meantime, we still want to get the rabid dog that got Tommy Lee."

"Then, I wish you luck. If I hear anything, I'll call your number. You might want to get an answering machine, don't know when I'll call." Hogan paused, then added, "I'll talk to people. Lotta folks'll tell me things, they won't tell cops. I'll see what I can find out."

Levon stood. "Thank you." He started to reach for his wallet.

"My pleasure, Levon. And - your money's no good here, so don't get out the wallet."

Joe stood now too. "Thanks, Tyler."

"Don't mind if I don't stand up," Hogan said, leaning back in his chair. The other two nodded again, Lundy touching his hat brim in a quasi-salute, before they left.

... end of part 4: "...I'll love you in buckskin..."

Part 5

Let's go where I'll keep on wearin'
Those frills and flowers and buttons and bows
Rings and things and buttons and bows

Out on the street, both men eyed the van again, making mental notes of the plate numbers, make and color. It was a fairly safe assumption that it belonged to Tyler Hogan, aka Carousel and knowing that might be useful at some point in the future.

It was nearing eleven o'clock in the morning now. It would be a stretch, but they could walk to the Blue Dahlia from here. Levon suggested it and Joe agreed readily. They stopped briefly at the Jimmy and Levon checked to make certain it was still locked, then they strolled on past it to the street everyone called "the strip." Rawlings Street was a wide boulevard. Closer to noon now, some cafes and small stores were open, there were people on the street and traffic flowed seamlessly through the artery.

Joe stopped in front of a small, artsy looking book-store that had a sign declaring it to be "The Leafery" and encouraging all to "turn over the leaf of a favorite book." The glass plate window had no bestsellers, no pyramids of the latest fad book. Instead, it was simply clear and one could see inside to tables piled high with books, the walls covered in dark brown wood bookcases, with a balcony railing running around above, to a second level of wall-surround bookcases. All the bookcases were full, the books both hard-cover and paperback. Several customers were wandering about inside, noses buried in various tomes. Behind a tall counter to the side of the door, a frail looking man in round spectacles was perched on a high stool, scribbling away in what looked like an old-fashioned ledger. A large brass and chrome cash register, of the sort seen thirty years ago, sat crouched on the counter top.

Levon had started to walk on when he realized he'd lost his partner. Stopping and returning to where the tall Italian stood, nose nearly pressed against the windowpane, he came to a halt and stood observing, hands on hips. "You need a book, LaFiamma?"

Joe blinked and swung around to see Lundy standing there waiting. He smiled cajolingly, "We have enough time to look, don't we?"

Levon smiled, there really was no hurry. They weren't expected at a special time at the Blue Dahlia, Babs might not even be up yet. "We got time, go on in."

"You'll come, too?" The question was so shy that Levon picked up on Joe's tentativeness immediately. Yeah, they still had unresolved places in their relationship, and Joe had unerringly fingered one. He was giving the option to Levon to wait out here or come in, letting his partner mark his own space.

Levon felt a tiny ache deep inside, [God, I really let us drift into troubled waters, didn't I?] "Might as well see what they got. More people we meet, see us, the better."

Joe moved eagerly to the door, throwing a flash of white teeth at his partner. The smile was so warm and happy, that Levon hurried to catch up. A tiny tinkle told them that a small jingle bell was hanging from the door. No one seemed interested, yet Lundy suddenly felt like he was being minutely studied from all directions.

With an innocent fascination, Joe was walking directly over to one of the center tables where a large, a very large cat sat grooming itself. Levon following, was alarmed by the look of the beast, it could easily be a wild cat, lynx or bobcat, except that it had a long, bushy tail. The tans, browns, and blacks with white, were so much of the feral cats' colorings that Lundy paced forward and placed a restraining hand on LaFiamma's arm as he reached out to touch the animal.

"Joe, ah wouldn't, it looks a bit wild."

LaFiamma gave him a look of sheer disbelief. "But Levon, it's in the middle of a book shop!"

"It's quite all right, gentlemen, Carson is a Maine Coon, quite tame, just bred to look on the wild side." The voice was a surprising bass coming from the small man on the stool.

Joe smiled and asked, "Carson?"

The answering smile wreathed the small weathered face behind the spectacles. "Yes, as in "Kit" Carson."

Even Levon joined in the chuckle at the play on names. LaFiamma's arm free now, he carefully extended a hand, palm up to the giant shaggy feline who was now watching them with large, yellow eyes. A whisker twitched, then one extremely furry paw came up and touched the offered hand. Joe was enthralled. "Hi, there, Carson."

The cat rose with majesty and stretched, back arching, tail up, then turned in a dignified circle and drew his tail close around him as he settle down on top of the larger cloth-bound books piled there. Once settled, he looked rather like a shaggy pillow, head tucked behind the screen of his tail, but two large, fur tipped ears revolved still, obviously a continuing surveillance.

LaFiamma stood admiring the animal for another moment, then moved on to the other tables of books, his curiosity with the cat assuaged. Levon put an elbow on the counter and, keeping one eye on his partner, nodded to the small man. "We're new in this part of town. Just moved in up the street a piece." He shrugged toward the Italian, "Looks like we'll be visiting yore store here onct'a while. My friend, Joe, he likes to read."

"And you?" asked the little man, kindly. "Do any of these things interest you?"

"Never had much time fur readin' on a ranch. Might, now that I'm set up in town." Levon let his eyes wander across the vast variety of offerings. Joe was deep in a book at one of the very back tables now, turning pages with obvious fascination.

"My name is Dennis, Thomas Dennis. Welcome to Houston, Mister?"

"Just call me Levon. And I think ah already tole you that there's Joe."

"Yes. Well, welcome Levon." Dennis studied the tall blonde cowboy for a moment, then slipped from his perch and said, "You look like the sort who would relish a deep, thoughtful read. Let me introduce you to some good friends of mine, Kant, Aquinas, and, maybe, Jefferson."

Levon raised an eyebrow. He knew the philosophers' names, he'd had the basic philosophy class in college, but never really done anything with it. Just now it sounded interesting. Kinda different. Not sure ah'll have much time, but why not? He let Dennis lead him to a wall of books with rather worn looking covers, all in leather.

Browsing among the titles, Levon lost track of time. The hand of his partner on his shoulder startled him and he flushed with guilt. He'd forgotten to keep an eye on his pardner! All thought of a book vanished in relief that Joe was still here and all right.

LaFiamma watched the mixed emotions travel across his friend's face. They really were becoming an old married couple in a lot of ways, he thought. Like now, each keeping track of the other but relaxed enough to let go once in a while. Smilingly, he offered the book he'd found. A Kama Sutra for Today's Men Who Love Men. Levon raised both eyebrows at the title, then reached for the book that Joe pulled back away from him. "Uh-uh, no way. You look in here and we'll never move you." Deftly pulling Lundy's wallet free from his hip pocket, Joe added, "I don't have enough cash on me."

"You really gonna buy it?" The cowboy was astonished.

"Why not? Maybe it will give us some new inspiration tonight." Joe's grin looked devilish just then. He poked his tongue out enough to lick his lower lip suggestively.

Levon felt his rod come to instant attention and grimaced at the lack of room in the crotch of these pants he wuz wearin.' Joe looked down and his smile broadened. With one hand he held book and wallet, with the other he patted the hard bulge at Lundy's groin. "Joe!"

LaFiamma squeezed lightly and took his book, Levon's wallet, and himself away to where Dennis waited back at the counter, watching the whole exchange with kind interest.

There was a soft sigh somewhere behind Levon, and somewhere else a book closed abruptly. Guess we jest entertained the troops, Lundy thought as he carefully, quite bow-legged now, walked over to where Joe was standing at the counter. He gave the brunette a thundercloud look that clearly said, jest wait 'til later.Joe's angelic countenance could've melted butter.

"Mreow?" Carson was poking his head up out of his fur-tailed screen now, watching the men at the counter. Levon grumped a glance his way. Cat wuz a menace, he didn't care what enyone said. Joe called goodbye to Carson and shook Mr. Dennis' hand. Book now securely wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, LaFiamma led the way back out to the street.

The mid-day sunshine caught them by surprise. It had been almost dark, and very cool inside the store. Levon and Joe both pulled sunglasses out of pockets and covered up. Looking very Hollywood, Joe thought, as they continued their stroll up the now much busier strip. There were several outdoor cafes set up in the daylight, the tables hogging the wide sidewalks, each one under it's own large pole umbrella.

The smells of interesting spices and the chink of cutlery prodded Levon to ask, "How about we eat here afore we go on to see Babs?"

Joe, caught up in the joy of openly linking his arm through his lover's, in public, nodded in amiable agreement. "You pick the place."

Levon stopped them at the second café on their side of the street. White table cloths and suited waiters, an almost exclusively male clientele, several of the couples more interested in each other than their food, all screamed of a very different Houston. Levon had never felt so free of constraint, he took Joey's hand and pulled him to a table, and then, right out there on the sidewalk, kissed his dark, tall Italian lover on the lips. And that same tall, dark ex-Chicago cop, kissed his lanky blonde cowboy right back, thoroughly.

They broke apart when they started to garner cheers and claps from several cheerful couples at nearby tables. Both red-faced but smiling, they eased into wire chairs and held hands on top of the table cloth, Joe setting his purchase on a third chair. A waiter materialized in front of them, tipping up two small wood-framed slate boards with a few items carefully lettered in chalk.

They both agreed to try the spinach quiche, though Levon looked skeptical, and settled on cold bottled beer, an import that Levon had never heard of. Salad arrived unasked, along with homemade breads. Sitting there in the umbrella's shade, the bright sunlight cutting bold shadows on the ground, Lundy felt his world had just expanded somehow and he wondered if he could ever go back to his old, pinched existence.

Joe LaFiamma was feeling like a sponge, absorbing sights, sounds, smells all around him. He basked in the moment, heart full of joy at his Levon's presence, at Levon's relaxed state and obvious acceptance of the atmosphere here. He'd been thrilled at the way Levon had gotten lost in the book stacks at the shop they'd just left. He knew that his partner was an intelligent, complex man, but sometimes he hid it well, and lately, Joe had not been privy to much of the hidden Levon. Well, up until Annie Hartung had intervened anyway, and then, this case, and this wonderful, no, glorious undercover assignment. His face clouded as the incident of the night before surfaced, then sighed. With Levon by his side, even that experience was one he could get past. Yeah, keep his cowboy close and all was right with his world.

...see the rest of Part 5 as...

"Buttons and Bows" continues in 2nd segment...