After the Fall 2: Holding Together [Union]
Author: mice (just_us_mice@yahoo.com)
Rating: NC-17
Category: xover, Lone Gunmen/Dark Angel: Logan/Byers, and a 
special toy surprise
Disclaimers: Ain't no money being made here, babes. These 
aren't the 'droids you're looking for. Move along, move 
along.
Summary: Logan Cale heads east with a message.
Author comments: AU (of course) -- All characters are as 
they appear in their respective shows. The year is 2003. 
The world changed for the worse a few years ago in The 
Collapse. Nobody's entirely sure what caused it. Seattle is 
a trashed out mess of a police state, just like in Dark 
Angel. So is most of the rest of the world. This story is 
the sequel to Manticore -- In that story, John Fitzgerald 
Byers met Logan Cale and Max when he went to Seattle to 
investigate the Manticore project. Thanks to Sally and 
Anndie for brilliant beta. I Ching quote from the 
Wilhelm/Baynes translation, used without permission.

~~~~~
"Holding to him in truth and loyalty;
This is without blame."

I Ching, hexagram 8, six at the beginning

~~~~~
DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA
DECEMBER 4th, 2003
7:13 P.M.

Byers waited nervously at the gate, watching the flood of 
people leaving the plane. The traffic he'd seen today had 
been mostly military, area residents, or business travelers 
who could not avoid the area. Food riots had been sweeping 
the DC area for several weeks, and civilian travel was 
being discouraged. He ran a hand through his chestnut brown 
hair, mussing its usual perfection slightly. With a flick 
of the wrist, he brushed a speck of lint off his somewhat 
threadbare suit, worn under a black wool-lined trench coat 
that had also seen better days.

He knew that Logan would be offloaded last, treated more or 
less as luggage because of the wheelchair. To remove him 
earlier might "inconvenience" the passengers who could 
walk. He'd been there half an hour early, even though he 
knew that the flight would probably be late. All flights 
were these days, after all. They flew more on "suggestion" 
than "schedule." It reminded him of some of the places he'd 
traveled in South America a few years ago, while he and his 
friends had been tracking down information on yet another 
drug-financed American political coup in a small Latin 
American nation. They'd nearly been killed when the weekly 
plane didn't show up on the right day, and had been forced 
to escape the country on foot through a mountain pass.

Finally, a tall, handsome man with spiky dark blonde hair 
wheeled out of the corridor and into the gate area. Byers 
sighed and relaxed slightly, then went to meet his lover.

"John," Logan said with a smile, taking his hand and trying 
to pull Byers down for an embrace.

"Not here," Byers whispered to him, his voice tight. He 
glanced around nervously. "Being out is okay in Seattle, 
but around here these days, a public hug could get us both 
killed."

Logan nodded. "Later then." He squeezed Byers' hand and let 
go.

Byers smiled. "Definitely later. Did you check any bags?"

"I have one, yes."

"Let's go and pick that up, then." Byers took the handles 
of Logan's chair and set off for the baggage area. "How was 
your flight?"

Logan shook his head. "Uneventful, unless you count the 
thunderstorm over the upper Midwest. Chicago, as usual, was 
barely navigable for the flight transfer."

"Any trouble with the paperwork?" The slender, bearded man 
asked.

"None." Logan cleaned his glasses on his shirt. "I did have 
to tell them I was coming here on business, though. They're 
not allowing any tourist traffic into DC right now."

Byers nodded. "I figured as much. I was worried; the riots 
have been spreading. I'm not sure it was wise to come right 
now. Waiting until January probably would have been 
better."

"I would have done that, but I needed to pass a message 
along from Max."

"It must have been urgent." Byers pulled the bag Logan 
indicated from the moving track filled with bags, 
suitcases, and boxes of various shapes and sizes. "She 
couldn't just call Yves?"

Logan shook his head. "We haven't been able to raise her 
for close to three weeks. Do you know where she is?"

Byers thought carefully. "You know, I don't think that any 
of us have seen her in about that long either. She doesn't 
make a habit of checking in with us on a regular basis, 
though. She comes and goes pretty much on her own whims. Is 
there reason to think she might be in trouble?"

"I'm not sure," Logan said. "Max gave me the message for 
her, but didn't tell me what it was. All we know is that we 
haven't been able to locate her."

Byers sighed. After punching a combination on a pad on the 
side of the ancient blue VW microbus, he took the key out 
of his pocket, opened the passenger door, then opened the 
side door. "Here, let me help you up into the van."

The two men worked together to get Logan into the high 
bench seat, allowing their touches during the process to 
linger slightly longer than necessary, their heads close. 
"I've missed you," Logan whispered as John helped him shift 
his weight into the seat.

"I've missed you too," Byers replied, not looking up from 
his task. "More than you could imagine."

Logan chuckled. "I can imagine a lot, John."

Byers blushed slightly. "I hope you're imagining what we'll 
be doing tonight," he said quietly.

"Oh, definitely," Logan replied with a grin as Byers folded 
the wheelchair and slid it into the back of the battered, 
heavily modified microbus. 

"Once we get out of here, we can talk a little more 
freely," Byers said, getting into the driver's seat and 
starting the sputtering vehicle.

Logan looked around at the vintage van, taking in the many 
modifications, and the equipment behind the curtain that 
separated the front seats from the rest of the vehicle. 
"Are you sure this thing still moves?"

"Combination of solar and new fuel cell technology," Byers 
said, "but Gilgamesh here still rattles like an old VW." He 
patted the dashboard. 

"Gilgamesh?"

"Frohike named it," Byers said. "You can blame him. I would 
have called it Rocinante. 'Formerly a van.'"

The younger man laughed. "I knew I should have pegged you 
for a Don Quixote fan."

"Tilting at windmills. Story of my life. And if you start 
singing tunes from 'Man from La Mancha,' you can get out 
and walk."

The two men laughed together.

Gilgamesh rattled and sputtered through streets crowded 
with people and bicycles. DC had fared better than Seattle 
in The Collapse, at least in a structural sense, but 
ultimately, the population still suffered the effects of 
the electromagnetic pulse and the subsequent technological 
disaster. More money and effort was expended in the 
District than in much of the surrounding region because of 
its political importance, but poverty still ruled the 
masses, and the middle class had entirely vanished. Byers 
and the other Gunmen, once barely hanging on, had slid into 
a harsh and difficult poverty along with the rest of the 
population.

Byers guided the van through areas where buildings had 
recently been burnt out. Some streets were still blockaded 
with rubble, and he avoided these as best he could. The 
city had become a maze in the last few years, almost 
impossible to navigate without a local guide. Fortunately, 
he had years of experience negotiating the area even before 
The Collapse.

A nasty December slush beat down from the mica sky as they 
got to the city sector gate. A guard approached the rickety 
van.

"Pass?" he demanded.

Byers showed a battered official zone pass as hoverdrones 
observed overhead.

"Business?" 

Byers looked at the guard. "Returning home after picking up 
a business associate at the airport."

Logan waved and gave the guard a cheery smile.

"Move along," the guard said, motioning the van through 
with a tired gesture.

Once past the gate, Byers relaxed visibly. "I hate going in 
there," he said tightly. "Half the time, they try to search 
the van. They want to know about the equipment we have in 
here. I've been arrested a couple of times for it. I didn't 
like the idea of driving in, but at the moment, the only 
other way we have of getting around is by bicycle. I didn't 
think you'd be too thrilled with that idea."

Logan looked over at Byers, and said "Not really." He took 
a deep breath. "So what happened out here? How did things 
get so bad? I thought the scene here was still relatively 
safe."

Byers moaned. "A cadre of ultraconservatives took over the 
local government about three months ago. They've imposed 
martial law along some very harsh Biblical lines, and 
anybody who argued got shot. Can you believe we've had 
public stonings?" He shifted uncomfortably as he spoke. 

"The guys and I are trying to figure a way to get out of 
Dodge with enough of our stuff to survive on, but we're not 
sure how long it will take. I hear things are better up in 
Pennsylvania right now. It's still rough, but at least I'm 
not likely to get shot up for holding your hand in public. 
The guys and I... well, it's a good thing we live in a 
warehouse district, or people would be asking questions and 
we might have gotten burned out of the building by now. I 
mean, four guys -- three of whom have been living together 
for years. Even though the other guys are straight, all it 
takes is an accusation these days. It's like the medieval 
witch craze around here. All we need are the public 
pillories and the bonfires."

Logan looked around at the buildings as the van moved 
along. "I had no idea it had gotten like this, John. Why 
didn't you say something before?"

"It's been too dangerous to email any sensitive information 
outside the area. Most outgoing email is tightly monitored, 
and even for us it's been difficult to get information out. 
The situation is really unstable right now," Byers said 
with a sigh. "Things seem to change every other day. We've 
been more concerned with the food riots though, really. The 
violence there is completely random. With the homophobic 
and sectarian violence, at least if you know what and where 
to avoid, you aren't likely to get caught. With the food 
riots, you can be anywhere and the rocks start flying. Then 
the bullets start. None of us have been going out much 
unless it's been absolutely necessary."

"Have you guys been able to get the supplies you need?" 
Logan's voice echoed with deep concern.

Byers turned left at a burned out stop light. "Most of the 
time. We had the foresight to install hydroponics about 18 
months ago, so we're growing a good bit of what we need, 
but it's damned hard to get basics, like flour or sugar, 
and you can forget the luxuries. We haven't seen coffee or 
tea in over six months. Food and tobacco are the de facto 
currency here right now. We've been trading food to the 
local clinic for Langly's asthma medications."

Logan nodded. "You have enough to trade?"

"We grow a lot of what we need for ourselves, but we also 
decided to grow things other people would be willing to 
trade for. You know what one vine ripened tomato will buy 
these days?" Byers grinned. "We had to give up most of our 
actual living space for the hydroponics, but it's kind of 
nice to have your bedroom in a garden... ah, here we are."

They had entered a shabby warehouse district about a mile 
back. Buildings were in various stages of disarray all 
around them, some abandoned, others burned out, but most at 
least marginally in use. Squatters moved in and out of the 
alleys, watching furtively as Gilgamesh rolled by. Byers 
turned the van down an alley and parked near a set of 
stairs, some leading up, some down.

"Wait here," Byers said. "I'll get one of the guys to come 
out and help get you into the building."

"You live here?" Logan asked in disbelief, openly gaping at 
the decrepit building. "This is worse than that hole Max 
lives in... no offense."

"It's the best we can do," Byers replied.

Logan watched as John vanished down the stairwell. Moments 
later, he returned, followed by a tall, buff man with short 
blonde hair.

Byers introduced his roommate to his lover. "Jimmy, this is 
Logan Cale. Logan, my associate, Jimmy Bond."

"So you're Byers' friend. That's so cool. I'm really glad 
to meet you." Jimmy smiled and offered Logan a big hand.

Logan smiled back and completed the handshake. "Pleased to 
meet you, Jimmy."

Byers looked around the alley, checking to make sure that 
no one was watching. "Okay Jimmy. You need to carry Logan 
up into the living quarters. I'll get the wheelchair and 
his bag."

Jimmy nodded and picked Logan up in his arms. Carrying the 
tall, well-dressed man carefully, he hurried up the stairs. 
Byers took the wheelchair and bag from the van, closed the 
doors, armed the security and alarm systems, then followed 
Jimmy with the chair and the bag.

When he got inside, Jimmy had already seated Logan on the 
couch. "Got him into and out of the bathroom," Jimmy said.

"Rather efficiently, too," Logan added.

Byers nodded. "Thanks Jimmy. Why don't you go see what the 
guys are up to?" He opened the wheelchair and placed it 
next to the couch so that Logan would be able to move 
around if he wanted to, and took the bag to his room. When 
he returned, he sat down with Logan on the couch and the 
two embraced.

"Quite the place you have here," Logan said, waving at the 
room around him. Hydroponics tanks were everywhere and the 
place was crowded with greenery. Plants and grow lights 
filled every available space, and the couch was settled in 
a tiny oasis of clear floor, with a couple of chairs close 
by. A small table stood amid the arrangement, covered with 
books and magazines, and a chess board attempted to carve 
out space for a game in progress.

"It's a lot safer than it looks from the outside," Byers 
said.

Logan nodded. "It would have to be. If people knew what you 
had in here, they'd be breaking down the doors."

"Don't think it hasn't been tried," Byers said wearily. He 
sank back into Logan's embrace. They were silent for 
several minutes, simply soaking in each others' presence. 
Byers looked into Logan's eyes, about to speak, but was 
silenced with a soft, passionate kiss.

"We can talk later," Logan whispered. He leaned into Byers 
and kissed him again.

The two were busy running their hands over each other and 
unbuttoning each other's shirts when Frohike coughed. Byers 
looked up with a start, then blushed. He hurried to 
rebutton his shirt.

"Sorry, guys. I just wanted to make sure you were doing 
okay. And... well... I wanted to meet 'Eyes Only.'" The 
short, scruffy older man grinned sheepishly.

"We were doing just fine, Frohike. You could have had 
better timing, though," Byers complained.

Jimmy looked down at Frohike. "They were, like, kissing."

"This *was* better timing, man," Langly said, the tall, 
lanky blonde appearing on the stairway from the office 
behind his shorter companion. "Another five minutes and you 
guys woulda been all naked on the couch. I mean, jeez, 
Byers, you got a room."

"Yeah, Jimmy," Frohike answered. "They were kissing. "

Logan laughed. "Your infamous partners, Ringo Langly and 
Melvin Frohike, I take it?"

Byers, his eyes covered with one hand, nodded in 
embarrassment. "Infamous barely begins to describe it."

"So, you had time for your greetings and all, let's get on 
with the tech talk, dudes," Langly said. "How do you keep 
those guerilla broadcasts up, Logan?"

Logan looked over at the long-haired, skinny blonde man. 
"Actually, I have something I need to ask you first."

Frohike and Langly looked at each other. 

Jimmy smiled. "He's gonna ask *us* something! Man, these 
guys are the best. They can answer just about any question 
you've got. They're the experts."

"They certainly are," Logan said, running a hand down 
Byers' back. Byers let out a nearly silent sigh. "But this 
isn't a tech question. I need to find Yves Harlow. I have a 
message for her."

Byers nodded. "He says that he and Max haven't been able to 
raise her in about three weeks. This could be serious."

"Yeah, well, she disappears on us like that all the time," 
Langly said.

"I worry about her," Jimmy said, a glum expression on his 
face. "She does a lot of stuff that could really get her in 
a bunch of trouble. Even more dangerous stuff than we do."

"Why do you need to get in touch with her?," Frohike asked.

"Max said that she needed to talk to her. I assume it's 
more Manticore business," Logan replied. "I have a disk for 
her, but I don't know what's on it. Max insisted that it 
was for Petra's eyes only."

Jimmy's face clouded in confusion. "Who's Petra?"

"Another one of Yves' names," Byers said patiently.

"If she were able to contact us, she would have by now," 
Logan said. "Petra and Max have been staying fairly closely 
in touch since John got them back in contact." He gazed 
over at Byers and ran his fingers gently along the man's 
jaw line, tracing the thin trail of beard to his chin. John 
closed his eyes and let his head lean subtly into the 
touch.

After a moment, Byers looked pleadingly at Frohike. "Could 
you guys please give us some time by ourselves? I know you 
want to talk shop, but we'd really like to get 
reacquainted, okay?"

Frohike chuckled. "Yeah, sure. We'll go see if we can turn 
anything up on Yves. Meanwhile, why don't you two take it 
to your room? I don't wanna come up here in a couple of 
hours to read and find you still on the couch."

"But I wanna know about the guerilla video broadcast stuff, 
man," Langly bitched.

"Yeah, and Logan's here for a week," Frohike snapped back. 
"You'll have time to ask him. Now get your skinny blonde 
ass down the stairs and give these boys some privacy!"

The two got up, but Jimmy sat frozen in place, looking at 
Logan and Byers.

Frohike clapped a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "You too, 
Gigantor." He jerked his thumb at the stairway.

"But they're guys," Jimmy said as he stood. "You said we 
don't hug, but Byers and Logan were kissing. What's with 
that?"

Langly laughed. "They're gay, Jimmy."

"Well, I know they're happy to see each other. But you guys 
don't kiss when you're happy to see each other. Or, I mean, 
I've never seen any of you do it. Or is this one of those 
things like Carl who turned into Carol?"

The men's voices faded as they headed down the stairs into 
the office.

"Is he really that stupid?" Logan asked.

Byers sighed. "He's not stupid, exactly. He's just led a 
very sheltered life, and he's a little slow on the uptake 
sometimes. He'll be okay with it when he understands what's 
happening between us. He's very open minded. I don't think 
there's a hateful bone in the man's body. But we may get 
some... interesting questions later." He smiled. "Would you 
like me to fix you some dinner?"

Logan kissed Byers again. "Yeah. I'm starved, and not just 
for food."

Byers laughed. "Oh, I like the sound of that."

***

"No, Jimmy, it's not really like Carl turning into Carol, 
although sometimes that has something to do with it," 
Frohike replied. They passed a row of 50 gallon barrels as 
they entered the office space, each of which contained a 
growing potato plant.

Jimmy thought Frohike's response over carefully as Langly 
started outlining parameters for their evening's task. "So 
you're saying that Byers and Logan are, like, dating?"

"That's about the size of it, dude," Langly said. He 
motioned Frohike over to a keyboard. "Come on, Fro. We need 
to get started on this. You know how slippery Yves gets 
when she doesn't wanna be found. Bitch."

"You can't talk about Yves like that," Jimmy protested.

Frohike laughed. "Yeah, she may still have the place 
bugged." He turned his attention to his monitor, typing 
swiftly. "Wonder what she's got herself into this time?"

Jimmy smiled. "Maybe she's got a hot story?"

"She is a hot story," Frohike replied.

"She sure is," Jimmy said, wistful. "But if Byers and Logan 
are dating... well, how can they... you know. I mean, guys 
don't have anginas."

Langly snorted and turned to Jimmy. "That's *va*ginas, 
dipshit."

Frohike choked back a laugh. "Even the virgin knows that, 
Jimmy." He jerked a thumb at his lanky blonde companion.

Langly glared at Frohike. "Asshole. You know I haven't been 
a virgin since... uh... never mind."

Jimmy looked over at Langly. "Well, okay, but still, how 
would two guys do something like that?"

Langly and Frohike looked at each other. Frohike looked up 
at Jimmy and said, "We ain't even going there, pal. You 
want to talk about the mechanics of guy sex, you have to go 
to the experts."

"Yeah," Langly said. "And that would be *Byers.* And 
*Logan.*"

Jimmy looked puzzled. "But I thought Byers loved Dr. 
Modeski?"

"He likes girls too," Frohike observed.

"Oh." Jimmy turned and started for the stairs back to the 
living quarters.

"And where are you going?" Frohike asked.

"Up to ask Byers and Logan about --"

"Not right now, you idiot!" Langly shouted.

"Wait until later, Jimmy," Frohike said. "I'm sure they'll 
answer your questions, but they want some privacy tonight."

Jimmy grinned. "Oh, right! Does that mean they're..."

"B-I-N-G-O," Langly replied, turning his attention back to 
the work at hand.

Jimmy's blue eyes grew large and round. "Whoa. Byers 
scores," he said appreciatively.

***

John and Logan lay together in John's bed, naked, their 
bodies pressed in a comforting embrace. The room was barely 
large enough to contain a bed and a dresser, and even then, 
most of the dresser's top was crowded with basil plants. 
Pepper vines grew in profusion, guided by a grid of strings 
along two walls and across the ceiling of the room. Dinner 
had been quiet and fairly simple, a thick, hot vegetable 
stew to drive back the cold of the December night. Logan's 
head rested on John's smooth chest as they caressed each 
other slowly.

"You're finally here," Byers said gently, tracing a finger 
along Logan's ear and down his stubbled jaw.

Logan hmmed his approval, a soft rumble in his chest. He 
passed his fingers over John's small, brown nipples, and 
the bearded man's breath caught. 

"God, I missed you," John whispered.

Logan said nothing, but nibbled and licked his way along 
Byers' chest. He paused for a moment and nipped at a 
nipple. John responded with a delighted sound, not sharp 
enough to be a gasp nor throaty enough for a moan; the 
noise seemed to come up from his abdomen and escape as a 
not-quite-sigh. 

"I like the sound of that," Logan said. He nipped again, 
and was rewarded with a similar sound. He ran a hand down 
John's side, over the hollow of his hip, and along the 
inside of his thigh.

John's body was ablaze with the soft sensation. He closed 
his eyes and allowed himself to sink into the sensual touch 
of his lover. "Please don't stop," he said.

Logan chuckled. "Did I ever tell you that you talk too 
much?" he asked.

"I..."

"Stop that, or I'll stop what I'm doing."

John silenced himself instantly at the terrible threat. 
Logan's fingers continued tracing the lines of his body, 
sliding along the edges of muscles, pressing gently into 
sensitive spots. He allowed himself a contented sigh, but 
restrained the expressions of pleasure that gathered on the 
tip of his tongue.

The need for restraint didn't last long, as Logan's mouth 
covered his, tongue probing gently between his lips. His 
own tongue joined the caress, and the kiss electrified him, 
adding to the sensation of Logan's moving hands. He could 
feel his pulse and breathing quicken as his world melted 
slowly into pleasure.

Byers' own hands moved over Logan's body as well, taking in 
the strength and definition of the other man's upper body, 
toned by the exertion of life in a wheelchair. John's hands 
moved down Logan's back and followed the curve of his ass 
down to his thighs, and his desire rose, filling his chest 
and causing his breath to catch.

He started to turn and roll Logan to his back. "Let me --" 
he began, but Logan cut him off again.

"No. It's been too long, and I really want to do this for 
you. You were doing most of the work last time, after all."

"But..."

Logan looked into John's eyes. "What did I tell you? Now 
hush; no talking. We can talk later, about anything you 
like." He ran a gentle hand along John's hard cock to 
emphasize his words.

Byers moaned and nodded. He gasped as Logan's hand moved 
away from his cock and down along his inner thigh again, 
barely managing to hold his tongue as Logan's mouth traced 
patterns down his abdomen and into the hair at his groin. 
When Logan took him into his mouth, John groaned loudly at 
the intense heat and wetness.

Logan chuckled, then started caressing John's cock with his 
tongue. Byers ran his hands through Logan's hair, his body 
responding to the pleasure of his lover's lips and tongue. 
Logan caressed John's balls and his fingers roamed 
everywhere along John's ass as he sucked. The bearded man 
groaned and pulled him tighter to his body as Logan licked 
and sucked more intensely.

"God..." Byers whimpered, trying to obey Logan's 
restriction, but failing. Logan made a low, growling sound 
in his throat as he sucked, and John gave up on words, 
settling for a long, deep moan as the sensation raced 
through his body. He wanted more, needed more, but without 
speaking, all he could do was press more deeply into 
Logan's mouth, hold the man's head more tightly to himself, 
and tremble from the pleasure he felt as Logan's hands 
moved over his body to caress sides, chest, legs and ass.

When Logan slid a finger into his ass, John let out a 
sound; half whimper, half groan. He could hear Logan 
chortle before he latched onto John's cock again and sucked 
hard. Byers wanted to beg, wanted to scream for Logan to 
fuck him, wanted to cry out for the other man's cock to 
pound into him, deep and hard. He choked back a howl of 
ecstasy and frustration, instead producing a keening cry. 
The mouth around his cock released its hot, tight grip, and 
Byers panted and tried to push Logan's head back down.

Logan grinned. "Oh, believe me John, you want this." He 
pulled himself up along John's body, and together they 
fumbled to line up Logan's cock with John's opening. When 
Byers finally got a good grip on Logan, he realized that 
his lover's cock had already been slicked, and he had been 
too lost in his own sensations to notice. Then Logan's hard 
cock pierced him, filling him, and his body took over 
again.

The two rocked against each other, and John gasped and 
moaned as Logan moved deep inside him. Byers hadn't 
realized Logan would be able to manage this kind of 
penetration and motion, depending only on his arms and his 
upper body strength, as his own approach tended to rely 
heavily on the use of his legs. Ultimately, though, the 
mechanics were utterly unimportant in the face of Logan's 
hard, deepening thrusts. Logan's grip on his body was 
tight, fierce. He wrapped his legs around Logan's hips and 
used them to intensify the thrusting, to bring Logan yet 
closer to him, as though allowing any space to exist 
between them would negate the feeling of wholeness he felt 
as their bodies pressed and slid together.

John's hands gripped Logan's ass, fingers digging into 
muscle, caressing the mounds of his flesh. The pressure of 
Logan's pelvic bone, and the sensation of his rough pubic 
hair rubbing against John's cock was bringing him to a 
rapid peak. Part of him wanted to slow down, to enjoy the 
sensations for as long as possible, but the rest of him was 
rushing toward orgasm as Logan's cock pounded deep inside 
him. He gasped and cried out, wordless, begging for more as 
his lover's pace quickened.

"You like that, don't you?" Logan asked, his own breathing 
harsh and irregular. "Harder?" he asked.

Byers answered by pulling Logan even more deeply into him 
with legs and hands, and Logan responded just as John hoped 
he would. Thrusting deep and hard, both lovers grunted and 
moaned, savoring the edge of orgasm, then the fullness of 
it as it rushed over them, pushing them headlong into a 
dizzy abyss of overwhelming sensation that left them 
spasming together, sweating and sated. As aftershocks 
rocked their bodies, they clung together, conscious only of 
each others' presence. John, energy drained, held tight to 
Logan and let a fathomless wave of love roll over him, 
tossing him like a branch in the tide.

The two panted harshly, catching their breath.

"God, you're good," Logan gasped.

Byers waited until he thought he could speak a whole 
sentence before replying. "You are the most amazing man I 
have ever met," he said quietly. Having offered his 
opinion, he kissed Logan; a deep, intense kiss that lasted 
a small eternity. As they gently broke the kiss, he traced 
a finger along Logan's lower lip and said, "I really have 
missed you. I'm so glad you're here."

Logan nodded. "So am I." He smiled and kissed the tip of 
John's finger.

Slowly, the two drifted into sleep.

***

"Oh, man, this is just getting nowhere," Langly groaned. He 
was too tired to slam his head against the keyboard. He 
sighed.

Jimmy looked up from the filing cabinet. He had been 
concentrating on remembering not to put the files beginning 
with "The" in the "T" section. "You still can't find her?" 
he asked, surprised.

"When Yves doesn't want anyone to know where she is, she 
doesn't generally get found," Frohike observed.

"But why would she be hiding?" Jimmy asked.

Langly snorted. "If we knew that, we'd know how to start 
looking for her."

Frohike wafted a paper airplane across the room, where it 
tapped the back of Langly's head before fluttering to the 
ground. "Maybe we're looking the wrong way," he suggested.

"Oh yeah, Doo-hickey? So what's your big idea?" Langly 
picked up the plane, added a paperclip for better 
aerodynamics, and launched it back at Frohike from a rubber 
band. It hit Frohike's stomach with a low 'thwack.' Jimmy 
watched with quiet amusement.

Frohike picked up the plane and flung it back at Langly, 
missing wildly. The plane landed on a top shelf of 
electronics clutter. "Well, I was just thinking that it's 
possible somebody else found her. Maybe they don't know who 
they've got their hands on?"

"You think somebody's caught Yves?" Jimmy asked, worry in 
his voice. 

"Oh, no way," Langly said. "She'd lay out anybody who put a 
hand on her. You know that Fro."

Frohike reached over to his screen and tapped it with a 
forefinger. "Maybe. Or she could have been careless." 

Langly got up and leaned over Frohike's shoulder to read 
what he was pointing at. Jimmy joined them, reading the 
screen with moving lips, then looked at both of them 
solemnly. It was a black market posting, advertising an 
"exotic item" for sale. 

All of the Gunmen had read enough of these postings to know 
what the code meant. The peddling of flesh had only become 
more outrageously blatant since the coup that had 
overthrown the local government. The junta had been so busy 
persecuting the people it had identified as 'dangers to the 
moral fabric of society' that it missed the festering sores 
growing openly under its collective nose. Jimmy had never 
understood why the new government thought people who were 
simply a little different were such a threat to society.

"We don't know that this is Yves," Jimmy said.

"No," Frohike agreed, "we don't. But it's worth looking 
into, wouldn't you say?"

"That would never be her." Langly shook his head and leaned 
his hips against the shorter, scruffy man's desk. 

"Under normal circumstances, I would tend to agree." 
Frohike leaned back, putting his feet up on his desk, hands 
behind his head. "But nobody's seen her in three weeks. 
This popped up on one of the local boards less than three 
hours ago, according to the time stamp. I say we toss them 
an email and set up a deal to see the merchandise."

"No way," Langly said. "That would just be too convenient. 
Besides, how would anybody catch her?"

"She's gotta sleep sometime."

Jimmy's fair face creased with concern. "Yves is too smart 
to get caught by anybody."

Frohike looked up at the tall, blonde jock. "We've caught 
her before."

Jimmy nodded. "Yeah, but you guys aren't just anybody. And 
besides, she knows you wouldn't hurt her."

"All the same," Frohike said, getting up to hunch over his 
keyboard, "I'm sending them a message and asking them for a 
meeting. At worst, we can ask if they know anybody who's 
seen a similar... item on the market recently."

Within ten minutes, Frohike received a response from the 
black marketeers, photo attached. With Langly and Jimmy 
gathered round his computer, he opened the graphics file. 

"It's her," Jimmy said, shocked.

"Man, she looks in bad shape, too," Langly said.

Frohike nodded, shaken. "I'll start negotiations and set 
the meeting."

Another hour passed before a deal was struck. Jimmy paced 
nervously through most of the procedure. 

"She's going to cost us a fully loaded 286 with a working 
motherboard, a dozen tomato sets, one set of night-vision 
goggles, and six teabags. And they want it by ten o'clock 
tomorrow morning," Frohike finally announced.

"Ten o'clock?" Langly asked. A look of panic crossed his 
face. "Where the hell are we gonna get six tea bags by ten 
o'clock tomorrow?"

"Does it matter?" Jimmy asked. He felt his anger rising in 
him. It was just like Langly to complain about the 
difficulty of the task ahead, even when something as 
important as one of their friends was concerned. "This is 
Yves we're talking about. You know she's worth a lot more 
than that. We're just lucky we have most of that stuff here 
already."

Frohike nodded. "But these guys don't. It's obvious they 
have no idea that she's an X5. I'm not sure how they're 
keeping her under, but they say she's drugged. I'm just 
worried that she might be hurt so bad that she's 
unconscious. Unfortunately, I couldn't persuade these guys 
to let us take a look at her tonight. They did agree to 
honor our bid though, and take her off the for sale list."

"Well yeah," Langly said, "that's understandable, man. More 
riots tonight. Hit southeast DC the worst. Hoverdrones 
everywhere, the streets are hip deep in heat, and we don't 
have any tea."

"At least we can work on that," Frohike said. "Jimmy, I 
don't think there's much more you can do tonight. Why don't 
you go hit the sack while Langly and I try to find a source 
for those tea bags?"

Jimmy thought for a few minutes. He didn't really feel 
sleepy, but Frohike usually said that when he wanted to 
hang out with Langly or Byers alone. The guys always had 
late night conferences after he was in bed, he knew.

"Okay," Jimmy agreed. "G'night guys." He climbed the stairs 
up to the living quarters and headed for the bathroom. He 
could hear quiet snoring coming from Byers' room, and 
noticed that the door was partly open.

Curious, Jimmy peeked inside. In the dim room, he saw Byers 
and Logan lying together in Byers' small bed. The two men 
were twined around each other, their faces peaceful. Jimmy 
had seen Byers asleep before, and always felt that he 
looked sad and tired. John always looked as though there 
was something missing in his life while he slept, Jimmy 
thought, something that he carefully hid away from the 
world, but right now, he looked... happy. Content, even.

Byers moved restlessly, changing the angle of his body, 
pulling Logan closer. The sleeping Gunman sighed. Jimmy 
smiled. John Byers was a hero to him, and a good friend. 
John always stood up for him when the others treated him 
like an idiot. Sure, he knew he wasn't as smart as they 
were, but John could look past that and see his heart; he 
was sure of it. John believed in him. And he was happy to 
see his friend so peaceful for once. He still didn't quite 
get how this worked between John and Logan, only knowing 
what men and women did together, but whatever it was that 
the two men did, it sure seemed to make John happy, and 
that was good enough for him. With a sigh of his own, Jimmy 
idly wished that he had someone he could be happy with. His 
thoughts turned to Yves, and he worried for her safety. 
With a last glance at John and Logan, he turned and left 
his friend asleep.

***

TAKOMA PARK, MARYLAND
LONE GUNMEN OFFICES
DECEMBER 5th, 2003
7:14 A.M.

Jimmy padded through the living area, intending to start 
breakfast in the kitchen, when he was distracted by the 
sound of voices. They were coming from John's room.

"... it will take to move to Pennsylvania?" Logan was 
asking.

Byers sighed. "I really don't know for sure. First we'll 
have to work up travel papers to cover all four of us."

Jimmy poked his head into the room. "Good morning, guys!" 
he said cheerfully.

Byers and Logan looked up. John pulled the covers up over 
his chest. Jimmy knew Byers was always awfully shy. "Good 
morning, Jimmy. What's up?"

"Oh, since you guys are awake, I was wondering if you could 
explain this whole sex with other guys thing to me."

Logan looked at Byers and chuckled. Byers blushed. "Ah... 
sure Jimmy. Hang on a sec. Logan, would you lean over and 
pull my laptop out from under the bed?"

Logan leaned over, exposing a fair amount of his side and 
hip. Jimmy looked on, fascinated. He'd certainly seen 
enough naked guys in his three seasons with the NFL, but 
Logan was really quite good looking for a guy in a 
wheelchair, he thought. Great muscle tone in his chest, and 
really nice legs. After a moment of feeling around under 
the bed, Logan pulled the errant laptop up onto the bed, 
carefully avoiding tangling the wires.

"Here you go," Logan said.

Byers flipped it open and turned it on.

"You're gonna explain with a computer?" Jimmy asked.

Byers nodded. "It would be a little... easier if you could 
see what we're talking about, I think."

Jimmy walked into the room, and Logan patted the bed, 
moving his legs to make room for Jimmy to sit.

"Do you always have to use your hands like that, to move 
your legs?" Jimmy asked.

Logan nodded. "Most of the time, I can't feel them or move 
them. This is just how I have to get around."

"You're in real good shape though," Jimmy said.

Logan smiled. "Yeah, I do physical therapy almost every 
day. I stay on top of it."

"And me," Byers muttered quietly to himself as he opened a 
net connection.

Logan laughed. "I heard that."

Jimmy looked over at John. "Heard what?"

"Never mind," John said, blushing again. With a few clicks 
on the keyboard and a tap or two on the touchpad, he 
brought up a site that he figured Jimmy would be able to 
grasp. He turned the laptop toward his friend. "Here you 
go."

Jimmy looked, fascinated. "Why do guys do this, anyway?" he 
asked.

"Well," Byers said, "sometimes people fall in love. Even if 
it's two guys, or two women, they still want to be close to 
each other. They still... they still want to make love."

Jimmy looked at the two of them. "So you guys are in love."

John nodded, and looked at Logan. The two joined hands. 
Logan leaned over and kissed John softly.

"Yeah, we are," Logan said, not looking up from John's 
eyes.

"That's cool." Jimmy took the laptop and read for a few 
minutes, looking at the pictures. His eyes widened. "I 
didn't know that guys could do this," he said, awestruck.

"Those are only some of the things guys can do together," 
Logan said.

"Really?" Jimmy's face was open and astonished. "What about 
this?" He pointed to a particular photo. "Can you guys do 
that?"

Logan and Byers looked at the photo, then at each other.

Byers turned bright red from his hairline all the way down 
to where the covers met his chest, Jimmy noted.

"Uh... well, some guys can, Jimmy, but I don't think Logan 
and I are athletic enough to try something like that. And 
really, I don't think I'd be strong enough to hold him up 
anyway."

Jimmy tilted his head. "I dunno. It looks kinda... fun. I'm 
pretty strong and athletic. I bet I could do it." He 
thought for a few moments, watching as John and Logan 
stared at each other. It really did look interesting. He 
wondered what it would be like.

Logan grinned. Slowly, an answering smile spread across 
John's face. It wasn't long before the two were laughing.

"I bet you could, Jimmy," John said shyly.

Logan looked over at the half-open door. "Why don't you 
close the door, Jimmy, and we can see if it'll work."

Jimmy blinked, confused. "If what'll work?"

Logan pointed to the picture.

"You and John are going to try that?"

Logan grinned. "No, actually, you and I are going to try 
that."

"We are?" Jimmy looked at Logan, then at John. "Does this 
mean that you guys love me?" Jimmy asked. If that was the 
case, it was awfully sudden.

Byers looked up. "What it means right now, Jimmy, is that 
we like you and since you've asked about this, we... we 
thought maybe you would have fun with it. If you like it, 
then we'll see what happens."

"Oh, okay," Jimmy said, slightly relieved. He knew that 
John didn't usually do anything in a hurry. "Because, like, 
I really love you and the guys, John. I don't know what I'd 
do without you guys."

Byers nodded. "That's a different kind of love, Jimmy. I 
think you know that."

Jimmy nodded. He did understand. He just didn't want to 
assume anything. 

When he and John had been undercover in a Texas death row 
prison, he'd been afraid for John's safety, even his life. 
He knew Byers wasn't a fighter, and had done his best to 
protect his friend. He thought about what they'd been 
through during those three days sometimes, and wished he'd 
been able to get into that fight instead of John. He wished 
he'd been able to take care of his friend when John had 
been hurt. 

Sometimes, deep down, he loved John the way that he knew 
John felt about Logan; that he loved John enough to be his 
lover, enough to want to share his nights with him. He'd 
never thought it was possible though, and besides, he liked 
women -- he loved women, especially Yves -- and he'd always 
thought that gay guys didn't like women that way; if he 
loved women, he couldn't really be gay himself. Jimmy also 
figured that John wasn't gay because he loved Dr. Modeski, 
so there was no way John could love him like that. But here 
was John, loving her, and Logan too. Maybe it was possible 
to love both a man and a woman and not have it be strange. 
He wasn't sure what it was, though. He always thought that 
people wanted one or the other, but you couldn't do both.

He knew that sometimes when he touched Byers, he felt more 
than just friendship for him. And when they'd stood there 
in the rain, outside the death house, after Mrs. Pfeiffer 
hit John in the face, he knew he loved him then, more than 
he'd ever loved anyone else. He loved John for being brave, 
for caring about others more than he cared about himself, 
for being the kind of hero Jimmy knew he was. 

Mrs. Pfeiffer didn't have any idea what John had been 
through trying to prove her son's innocence, or that he'd 
saved an innocent man's life despite the fact that her son 
really had been guilty. It wasn't John's fault that Douglas 
was executed. When he'd put his arm around John that night, 
he wished that the guys did hug, so that it would be okay 
for him to hug his friend, to try to make him feel better.

"Uh, does it hurt when you do that stuff?" Jimmy asked. 
"That... the being inside each other?"

"It can, if you don't take it slow at first, and you don't 
use enough lube," Logan said. "But I'm used to it, and I 
like it, so if we lube you up, you won't hurt me. Actually, 
when you're used to it, it feels wonderful."

Byers reached over Logan and pulled lube and condoms out of 
the bedside drawer. "You'll need to use these," he said, 
handing them to Jimmy. "I assume you know what they're 
for."

Jimmy took them, nodding. "Yeah, I've used them before."

Logan looked at Jimmy with a bit of a leer in his eyes. 
"But you do have to take your clothes off first," he 
observed.

Jimmy looked down at himself. He was half dressed in his 
robe and jeans. "Oh, right. Clothes."

The next thing he knew, Logan's hands were at the belt of 
his robe, untying the loose knot. John moved closer, and 
was running one hand gently along Jimmy's neck and 
shoulder. It amazed him that they would share something 
this private with him. It also excited him. Their hands 
moved along his body, and then Byers closed the computer 
and Logan slid it back under John's bed, and the two of 
them pulled him close and slid his clothes off him. He 
decided it was time to try something he'd wanted to do for 
a long time.

Putting his arms around John, he pulled him close, then 
leaned awkwardly to kiss him.

Miraculously, John responded, but stopped him after a 
moment.

"Am I doing something wrong?" Jimmy asked, worried and 
uncertain.

"There are a lot of ways to do this," John said. "It just 
takes a little practice. Here, let me show you how I like 
it." And the next thing Jimmy knew, John's mouth was 
covering his, and John's tongue was sliding softly and 
slowly over his own. Jimmy concentrated for a few moments -
- Logan's hands sliding around his hips were very 
distracting -- on how John moved his tongue and his lips, 
then carefully imitated the movements. He caressed John's 
tongue softly with his own.

Byers leaned into the kiss, moaning, and Jimmy felt an 
electricity in it that he'd never felt from a kiss before, 
even when he'd kissed Mary Sue Morgan back in High School. 
His whole body was tingling. His breath quickened. He 
moaned and pulled John closer to him, letting the wave of 
pleasure pass through him. Yes, this was definitely 
something wonderful, something he wanted more of. He felt 
his cock stirring in his lap, and Logan's hands drawing 
closer to his hardness, then he was conscious of Logan's 
lips on his shoulder, warm and soft.

Logan's hand found Jimmy's cock, and he could feel Logan's 
breath on his back.

"My, you're a big one," Logan said, his voice husky. "Very, 
very nice."

Jimmy was too busy kissing John to say anything, but the 
feel of Logan's hand and the sound of his voice only served 
to make him harder. It was almost overwhelming. He found 
himself trembling.

Byers broke the kiss, panting. He looked into Jimmy's eyes. 
"Are you okay, Jimmy? Are we going too fast for you?"

Jimmy shook his head. "No, it feels... it feels great. I 
just..." 

Logan stroked Jimmy's cock.

"... uuuuhhh... god, that feels good..." Jimmy let one of 
his hands stray over to Logan's hip. He looked back at 
Byers. "I didn't know it could feel like this," he said, 
then whispered, "I didn't know you could feel like this..." 
He pulled Byers back in for another kiss. He felt John's 
hands run slowly up and down the sides of his chest. He 
wondered if John appreciated the years he'd put into 
building his body, taking the slow way, without the 
steroids a lot of the other guys he trained and played with 
had used.

As the three men moved slowly together, the covers fell 
away from John's body. Jimmy cautiously stroked a hand down 
John's back to his hip. He hadn't often seen his friend 
nude, but he'd always thought John was handsome, if a 
little thin. Touching him like this, touching Logan, and 
the two of them touching him was intense. None of them 
spoke, but their explorations began to branch out, hands 
and arms and mouths moving over each other. Jimmy tasted 
John's skin, warm and slightly salt. It was turning him on 
more than even his occasional fantasies suggested. The 
slowness of everything was starting to drive him crazy.

When Byers licked, then sucked one of his nipples, Jimmy 
thought he would die from the pleasure. He groaned loudly. 
Then Logan started sucking his cock, and he didn't think 
anything could be better. At least, not until he took 
John's cock into his own mouth. He watched as John's back 
arched, and ran his hands up along John's bare chest. Byers 
took Jimmy's hands and moved them gently to his nipples, 
and Jimmy caressed them, rolled them gently between his 
fingers and squeezed them carefully. The reaction from John 
was beautiful to watch, an expression of ecstasy crossing 
his bearded face; eyes tightly closed, mouth open, gasping 
for breath. Jimmy knew he had to have more of this. He had 
to share this feeling with John whenever he could. And he 
felt a deep love for his friend rising in his heart.

Logan's tongue teased him, and he had to pause in his own 
treatment of John's hard cock, afraid he would spasm and 
accidentally bite him. Then Logan's mouth moved away.

"Do you want to try that athletic bit?" Logan asked, 
grinning up at Jimmy. 

Jimmy sucked hard on Byers, who gasped and moaned, wrapping 
his fingers through Jimmy's hair.

Panting, Jimmy said, "Are you sure you want to do that?"

Logan nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes. Very sure."

"You'll have to hold him up against the closet door," Byers 
said, trying to regain control of his voice. "There's no 
room anywhere else without damaging the pepper vines."

John got out of bed, helping Jimmy move Logan across the 
small room between them, then Jimmy leaned Logan's back 
against the door and slid him up a bit.

"You'll need to get my legs up over your shoulders," Logan 
instructed.

Jimmy did as he was told, with John helping, then gasped as 
John rolled the condom down over his cock and lubed him up. 
He wished for a moment that it was just him and John, with 
John's hands on him just like that, but Logan was warm and 
handsome and wonderful too, in his own way. He watched as 
John slicked lube along the crack of Logan's ass, then slid 
a finger inside his lover's opening.

Logan, eyes closed, gave a humming sigh of approval.

"Okay, Jimmy," John said, "now all you have to do is just 
slide into Logan. Be careful. You don't want to hurt him. 
You're a lot bigger than me." Jimmy thought he detected a 
tiny note of envy in John's voice.

He nodded, sweating slightly as he held Logan up. John's 
hand guided him up to Logan's hole.

"Are you sure this is okay?" he asked Logan.

"Believe me, Jimmy, it's more than just okay," Logan 
replied, his arms around Jimmy's neck.

He moved slowly, following Byers' direction, and pressed 
the tip of his cock up against Logan's opening. The touch 
was arousing. "Like this?"

"Like that," Logan said. "Now just push a little until you 
get inside me."

Jimmy pushed, feeling resistance at first, then gasped as 
the head of his cock entered Logan. He was tight and hot, 
and the feeling was amazing.

Logan gasped as well, then offered encouragement. "Keep 
pushing," he whispered, his eyes locked with Jimmy's, "it's 
okay. I want you deep."

Jimmy pushed slowly in, savoring the tightness and the 
feeling of closeness. He kissed Logan softly, as he had 
kissed John, and Logan responded eagerly. The only thing 
that would make it better, Jimmy thought, was if it was 
John he was sliding into.

He stood for a minute, motionless. "Is this okay? Am I 
hurting you?"

"Oh, no," Logan sighed, smiling. "You feel great. Now you 
should move a bit. Just... oh yeah... start thrusting in 
and out... oh, like that... yeah..."

Jimmy did as he was asked, moving carefully at first, then 
with more freedom as he settled into the pleasure of the 
movement. He leaned his head against Logan's shoulder and 
moaned softly as he thrust. "Oh, God, that feels good..."

A few moments later, he felt John close against his back, 
hard cock pressed along the crack of his ass.

"John?" he asked, trying to control his breathing.

"It's okay Jimmy. If you'd like, I'll do what you're doing 
with Logan. Do you want that?"

Jimmy tried to think, the intense pleasure of his cock 
sliding in and out of Logan's body overcoming what few 
brain cells he was managing to bring to bear. Logan seemed 
to be really enjoying it, and he knew that being in Logan 
felt really good to him. Maybe he would like John inside 
his body, too. Anything to have John touch him, to be 
closer to him.

He nodded. "Yeah... please..."

He felt John's warm, slicked hands sliding over the opening 
of his ass, and after a few moments, something small -- a 
finger? -- slid inside him. He gasped at the sharp, slight 
pain, but as the initial shock passed, John's finger began 
moving slowly. It was an... interesting sensation. The heat 
of his cock inside Logan was a stronger stimulation, 
though.

"Is that okay?" John asked gently.

Jimmy panted and whispered, "yeah... yeah."

Another finger joined the first. It was a little tight and 
painful at first as well, but actually not at all 
unpleasant. In fact, he was beginning to enjoy the 
sensation. "More?" he asked, pushing deeper into Logan's 
body.

Logan whimpered and asked Jimmy to push harder and deeper. 
Jimmy, always wanting to please, increased his pace a bit 
and thrust deeper.

The fingers left, and Jimmy wondered what was next. Then he 
felt the round bluntness of John's slippery lubed cock 
pushing at him. John wasn't tall enough to do that, he 
thought, and looked around for a moment to see that Byers 
was standing on a pile of pillows and clothes.

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" John asked again.

Jimmy nodded, unable to speak with the effort of his 
thrusts into Logan. He felt John push harder against him as 
his own body moved back and forth between the two men. 
There was a harder push, and suddenly John was inside him, 
moaning with pleasure. He yelped at the pain of 
penetration.

"Slow," Byers gasped, "just take it slow for a minute."

Logan whimpered as Jimmy stopped moving.

John stroked Logan's hip. "It's okay. We'll get started 
again in a minute. We just have to make sure Jimmy's 
comfortable. You okay?" he asked.

The momentary pain faded. "I... I think so," Jimmy replied. 
It felt strange to have John inside him, but it also felt 
so... right. John slid further into him, slowly and 
carefully. He breathed into the pain, as he did when he was 
working with a strained muscle. It would be okay. If John 
and Logan liked this, it must not hurt for very long, he 
decided.

John paused again, then pushed further in. As he went 
deeper, a sharp wave of intense pleasure hit Jimmy. He 
cried out and pushed into Logan.

John chuckled. "That's your prostate gland, Jimmy." He slid 
back out a little and thrust slowly in over the pleasure 
spot again. "All guys have them. It feels really good when 
you rub it with fingers or your cock." Jimmy felt his knees 
going weak, it felt so good. He wobbled slightly, but Byers 
leaned into him, cock moving in deeper, helping support him 
as his own body held Logan up against the door.

"Oh, man..." Jimmy whispered, "...feels so good... John... 
God..."

Settling into a rhythm for their pleasure, the three men 
thrust together, moving into and against each other. They 
moaned and caressed each other, kissing and nipping, 
thrusting harder, urging one another closer to the peak.

Jimmy felt Byers' arms around him, John's body hot and 
close against his back. This was better than he'd ever 
imagined. No wonder the guys had wanted privacy last night. 
After being away from each other so long, it must have been 
incredible to be together again. He didn't know if John 
would want him when Logan was away, but if John did, he 
wouldn't let the man spend another night alone, ever again. 
There was no need for John to be lonely anymore. Or for him 
to be lonely either, for that matter. If John would have 
him...

The thought of being with Byers at night, making love to 
him, being inside him, being penetrated by him was 
intensifying the physical sensations beyond belief. He 
heard Logan calling out as he came, felt Logan's cum 
between their bodies as Jimmy thrust hard into John's 
lover. He was pleased that he could do this, that he was 
doing it right the first time, and neither of the other men 
were telling him to do anything differently. It felt good, 
and having John inside him, hitting that sweet spot, was 
bringing him closer and closer to his own peak. 

"Please, John... more," he panted, and John's thrusting 
grew deeper and harder. He could hear John's ragged breath, 
feel it against the back of his neck, feel the sweat 
slicked between them. Breathing in the musky scent of sex, 
he heard John whispering and gasping, felt his friend's 
cock fill him. He wished the pleasure would never end, but 
as John drove into him again and again, Jimmy was finally 
pushed over the edge, slamming himself into Logan as he 
came.

He could feel John spasm against him as his orgasm rocked 
them both, John calling out breathlessly. The three 
trembling men clung together for a few minutes before 
John's legs started to give out.

"Have to... move," he panted, sliding out of Jimmy. Byers 
staggered to the bed and fell into it.

Jimmy moved very carefully, carrying Logan the few steps to 
the bed and letting himself slide down onto it as well, 
watching Logan's legs to make sure they weren't caught 
under his body. Logan, panting, pulled himself off Jimmy, 
and Byers took him into his arms. Jimmy curled up with 
them, cuddling Byers as Byers held Logan.

They all looked at each other, still breathing hard. Byers 
peeled the condom off of himself, depositing it in the 
trash can next to the bed, and Jimmy followed suit.

Byers got his breath back first. "Oh God."

Logan nodded. "Hoo yeah."

"So how did it feel, Jimmy, your first time?" John smiled 
at him.

Jimmy held John close. "That was awesome." He paused, then 
kissed John as he'd done earlier. Byers kissed him back. 
"I... I hope we can... we can do that again..."

Byers looked into Jimmy's eyes, blue reflecting in blue.

"Are you sure you want that, Jimmy?"

Jimmy nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure. I..." He stopped, unsure of 
what to say.

"It's okay," Logan said. "Say whatever you like. We're okay 
with it." 

Byers nodded in agreement.

Jimmy closed his eyes. He was afraid to tell John how he 
really felt. "I'm not sure I can," he said.

"Is something wrong?" Byers asked. Jimmy could hear the 
concern in his voice.

"No. Let's just... later," Jimmy said.

There was a knock at the door, and Frohike's voice rang 
out. "Are you guys ever gonna get out here? We've got work 
to do, and we're on a deadline!"

***

"Six teabags?" Byers asked.

"Yeah, but I traced down a source," Langly replied. "No 
thanks to Doohickey over there. He almost blew it when he 
offered them three porn tapes."

Frohike glared at Langly over the last minute work he was 
doing on the 286 they needed to trade for Yves. "Fuck you, 
Langly. They were good ones."

"What?" Logan asked. "You offered a source porn tapes?"

"Woulda worked, too, under normal circumstances," Frohike 
said, "but it turns out we're dealing with the dyke couple 
a few blocks over. You know 'em Byers. Mar and Louise."

Byers rolled his eyes. "Why on earth would you offer Mar 
and Lou porn tapes?"

"Because he didn't know it was them, dude," Langly said. 
"We were dealing anonymous online. They're gonna give us a 
break on the tea though, 'cuz I told 'em it was for Yves."

Byers let himself smile a little. "Well, that's a relief. 
What was the final price?"

Langly picked up a baggie and waved it at John. "Half an 
ounce of primo weed. Had to drag it out of my personal 
stash of Ringo's Primo Pokalolo."

Frohike grimaced. "Hell of a sacrifice, the way he guards 
that stuff. It's funny though, that this kind of 'tea' is 
cheaper than the stuff that comes from China these days."

"'Specially when you grow your own," Langly observed. 

Frohike shook his head and snorted. "You can get all the 
recreational substances you want, but you can't get a 
goddamned cup of tea."

"At least they weren't looking for coffee," Jimmy observed.

The other three Gunmen shook their heads in unison. "Ain't 
that the truth," Langly sighed.

"What's the deal for the pickup?" Byers asked.

"They said to send you over," Frohike replied. 

Logan looked over at John. "Mind if I go with you?"

John nodded. "You sure you want to go out in this weather? 
It's a lot colder than what you're used to in Seattle at 
this time of year."

"I don't think a little snow is going to hurt me," Logan 
replied.

John smiled. "Great, then let's get going." Langly tossed 
him the baggie, which he tucked in the inside pocket of his 
suit jacket. He went to the coat rack and took his and 
Logan's coats from it. "Jimmy, we're going to need your 
help getting Logan up the stairs."

"Hey man, don't stay too long over there. Remember, we 
gotta be at the rendezvous by 10 am, or we're gonna have a 
hella trouble getting Yves back," Langly snapped.

Byers sighed and turned to Ringo, pausing before he started 
out the door carrying the wheelchair. "Don't worry. We'll 
only be a few minutes. It's only three blocks, and I'm not 
going to stay and hang out."

"Get a move on," Frohike growled, rummaging in the 286 box. 
"Langly, where's that damned tweaker I put down a minute 
ago?"

John chuckled and followed Jimmy and Logan up the stairs to 
the alley. Once Logan was settled in his chair, they set 
off down the alley and into the maze of warehouse district 
streets as a light snow fell from the dim, overcast sky. 
The streets were cluttered with moving bicycles. The edges 
were crowded with tarp shelters, shacks of scrap wood, 50 
gallon drum fires for warmth and cooking, dead pre-Collapse 
vehicles serving as homes or temporary shelters, and a 
lively street trade in the things of daily life. Sometimes 
people greeted Byers with a nod or a wave as he and Logan 
passed, while others stared at Logan and the wheelchair. 

John suspected it wasn't so much the chair that people were 
staring at as Logan's clothing -- obviously of better 
quality than anyone else in the street had seen in some 
time. Better than his own had been for the past couple of 
years, in fact. He'd have to talk to Logan about it when 
they returned to the office. The conspicuous nature of 
Logan's attire could put a serious hitch in the meeting 
with the people who had Yves. If they were typical black 
marketeers, they'd probably jack the price, thinking that 
Logan could afford it.

They cut through a couple of alleys, taking half a block's 
walk off the distance of their trip. It didn't take long 
before the men found themselves at the back of a ratty 
three story office building. A chain hung near the ground-
level freight door, and Byers tugged it twice. A few 
minutes later, the familiar growl of a freight elevator 
sounded, then the freight door opened. A short, rather 
round dark-haired woman of about 45 appeared, dressed in 
black leather pants and a thick, cream wool fisherman's 
sweater.

"Hey Mar," Byers said.

Mar looked at Logan. She looked up at Byers with an odd 
expression, then smiled at him. "Buenos dias, Byers," she 
replied. "This the hot young thing you were telling me 
about this summer?"

John blushed as Logan looked up at him. "Hot young thing?" 
Logan asked, a grin on his face.

"Those were not my words," John insisted, with a warning 
look at Mar. "Logan, this is Mar Fuentes. Mar, Logan Cale."

The two shook hands briefly, and Mar said, "Come in before 
you freeze your cojones off."

As Logan wheeled into the storage bay, John helped Mar 
close the door. The room was loud with banging, whooshing 
sounds and the roar of a large fire. Byers looked over and 
saw Louise at her forge, busy building metal fence sections 
of old rebar. Off to one side, a very buff young man was 
pedaling hard on a stationary bicycle, shirt off, his upper 
body glistening with sweat. His ride was for more than 
exercise, though, as the cycle powered the bellows that fed 
the forge with forced air to make the fire hot enough for 
working metal.

"What's all this?" Logan asked.

"Lou's forge," Byers replied, raising his voice to be heard 
over the sound. "She's a blacksmith; does welding and 
carpentry too. Makes a lot of useful stuff. Repairs 
things."

Louise looked up from her work for a moment, waving at 
Byers, hammer in hand as her tongs held a short section of 
rebar in the forge coals. She wiped sweat from her forehead 
with one muscular forearm. "Hey dude!" she shouted.

"Hey," Byers shouted back, waving. "Who's the new guy?" he 
asked Mar.

"Oh, that's Harold," Mar replied, heading for the elevator. 
"Come upstairs, we can talk for a few minutes where it's 
quieter." 

Byers and Logan followed her. Mar pushed the button for the 
third floor.

"I didn't see Jane," Byers said.

Mar shook her head. "Three months ago, Lou said Janie'd 
earned her journeyman status, and Janie took off for a 
commune up in Vermont. They still let us marry up there, 
you know. And even if the State didn't approve, nobody 
there would care. I hear they're going more and more 
Anarchist in northern New England these days. Hell, me and 
Lou, we're thinking about making the trip ourselves, come 
April or so when the weather there's better."

Byers nodded. "Yeah, the guys and I are talking about 
Pennsylvania. So Harold's the new apprentice, I take it?"

"Oh yeah, " Mar said as the elevator cage opened. They all 
moved into the hallway. "It's great. Everybody thinks 
Harold's in bed with Lou. It's been great cover. Makes 
things a little easier, poco a poco." She indicated a tiny 
bit with her thumb and forefinger. "These days, anything 
helps. It doesn't hurt that Lou's the most gorgeous 
blacksmith in three states, don't you know." She grinned.

Two kids ran down the hall. "Mama," the boy, about ten, 
shouted. "Mama, Ximena hit me!"

Ximena, a girl of about fourteen, whined, "He stole my 
makeup!" She turned to her brother. "Puta!"

Mar launched into a Spanish diatribe that sent her son and 
daughter both running back up the hall. She laughed. "Kids, 
man. You think you raise 'em right and they turn out like 
this."

John smiled. He knew that Mar's kids were actually pretty 
good about most things, and that this was just very typical 
sibling dispute territory.

The trio entered the kitchen. "Sit down, Byers. Let me heat 
up some water, I'll make you two some nice orange peel and 
cinnamon tisane. Good for a cold winter day."

Byers shook his head regretfully. "Sorry, Mar. We're 
working on a tight deadline here. We really only have time 
to make the trade and run."

Mar nodded, disappointed. "Si, si, bueno. You need to come 
over later this week then. You been busy too long and 
haven't come to see us. It's terrible news about what 
happened to Yves. I'm glad we can help her out like this. 
She's helped us before. She's one good amiga, and oooh, is 
she hot. "

Byers laughed. "There are days when you sound just like 
Frohike."

"Hey, I know what I like. But you're right. If you guys are 
on a tight schedule, we should get down to business."

Byers pulled the half ounce of home-grown marijuana from 
his pocket and handed it to Mar for inspection. She opened 
the baggie and sniffed deeply.

"Oh, that Ringo, he grows some mighty fine weed." She 
smiled and sealed the baggie, then tossed it on the kitchen 
table. "Here Johnny, I'll get you that tea." Mar turned and 
rummaged in the back of one of the kitchen cabinets, 
emerging a moment later with a small tea tin. She opened it 
and took out eight teabags. "I know you need six for my 
chica, but you take these other two for yourself and your 
new sweetie. Then you bring him over for a visit while you 
still got him here, or I'll send Lou after you." Mar 
deposited the tea bags in two small baggies and handed them 
to Byers. "It's not good to piss off my Lou."

John grinned. The gift of two tea bags was quite an 
expensive one. "Thanks Mar. I really appreciate it. I 
haven't had a cup of real tea in..." he looked up, puzzled. 
"I can't even remember. If there's anything the guys or I 
can do for you, just let me know. I owe you one."

She nodded. "You bring your pretty boy over here," she 
smiled at Logan, "and I'm willing to call it even."

Logan laughed. "Sounds like you have a deal," he said.

John gave the tea to Logan, who put it in a small leather 
bag hanging from one arm of the chair. "We need to be 
going," he told them both. He looked impatiently at his 
watch, knowing that Frohike and Langly were probably 
fidgeting back at home, waiting for his return.

"It's nice to meet you, Logan," Mar said, hugging him. "And 
don't forget Byers, you bring this boy by soon." She gave 
Byers a brief hug as well. "Let me go down to the door with 
you."

As Byers and Logan retraced their path down the alleyways 
back to the street, John looked around briefly. He scanned 
the sky for hoverdrones, and, seeing nothing that caught 
his attention, leaned down and kissed Logan on the cheek. 
Logan looked up, smiling, and returned the rapid kiss. John 
knew it was risky, but he hadn't seen anyone who might have 
witnessed the display. 

A rattle from a fire escape above their heads startled him, 
and he and Logan looked up. "Oh, shit," John whispered. 
He'd been careless. He should have known that lack of 
obvious observers didn't mean there weren't any. Where the 
hell had his faithful paranoia gone? His gut knotted as he 
realized that this mistake might be his last. 

Two figures emerged from a pile of blankets about two 
stories up. He hadn't noticed them in his quick scan. They 
hadn't been moving. John damned himself for his stupidity.

One man, who looked in his mid-20s, said. "Hey, it's a 
couple queers."

The other man, not much older than the first, laughed. 
"Open season, man. They won't even lock us up." The two men 
started down the fire escape.

"Yeah," the other replied. "Like they'd bother to even look 
for us."

Byers' heart stopped for a moment, then he turned and ran, 
pushing Logan in front of him.

The younger man shouted after him, "That's right, you pansy 
assed wuss! Run!"

John heard their laughter behind him and pushed himself to 
run faster, but with Logan's weight in the chair in front 
of him, and the slippery, freezing slush on the ground, he 
didn't have much traction. Logan's pushing on the wheels 
wasn't helping their progress either. He could hear the men 
as their feet hit the ground. He had no idea what kind of 
weapons they were carrying, but he had no intention of 
being around long enough to find out.

"Get out of here, John," Logan said. "I can cover you."

"No," John panted, stumbling. He stayed on his feet due 
only to having both hands on the handles of the chair. 
Getting his feet under him, he pushed again and started 
running. The young men were getting closer fast.

Logan opened the bag the tea was stored in and reached in. 

Byers' foot met a slick of black ice and he went down hard. 
As he staggered to his feet, the men caught up. The older 
one, wearing a Redskins jacket, shoved Logan's chair over, 
tossing him to the ground, while the younger pulled a 
bicycle lock chain from out of the pocket of his torn wool 
coat. Both turned to face John, moving in different 
directions to flank him.

John knew better than to leave home unarmed. He refused to 
carry a gun, but there were other useful weapons out there 
that he was willing to use. He reached into his coat pocket 
as the man with the chain swung at him. He tried to block 
the blow with one arm, but the chain wrapped around it, and 
the lock struck hard near his elbow, shocking the arm into 
numbness. Byers grunted, then pulled out his kinetic force 
stick and took a swing of his own.

The man with the chain danced back as he pulled the chain 
away from Byers and drew his arm back for another strike. 
John's arm swung back in a sharp, wide arc that kept the 
metal stick extended, backhanding the other man with it. He 
had to keep them away from Logan. He didn't care much what 
they did to him, as long as he gave Logan time to get out 
into the street, where he could try to lose himself in the 
crowd and get back to the office to send help.

"Fucking fag!" the man shouted, doubling over and grabbing 
his ribs with one arm. There was something in his other 
hand, and before Byers realized what it was, the razor 
blade of the packing knife slashed past his open coat, 
through the front of his suit jacket and shirt, and dug a 
bloody trail across his chest and down his abdomen. John 
yelped in pain and stumbled. 

The younger man took advantage of Byers' shock and loss of 
balance and struck him again with the chain, this time 
hitting him cleanly in the head with the lock. John went 
down, hitting the pavement hard, face first.

"We're gonna cut your dick off and feed it to your crippled 
up boy toy, faggot," the older man growled.

The younger one laughed. "You tell 'im, Sam. Make him 
watch."

Byers struggled, trying to get up to defend himself and 
Logan. He knew that the men intended to make good on their 
threat, and that he and his lover might be dead in a matter 
of minutes. He didn't even make it to his knees, however, 
before the young man struck him with the lock end of the 
chain again, this time across his shoulders. Byers rolled 
to his side with the force of the blow, trying to dodge as 
Sam moved in. Instinctively, his arm came up to cover his 
head, and this time the razor slashed into his exposed 
wrist. 

There was blood everywhere, all of it his. Byers was 
terrified, knowing that even if help came, he might bleed 
to death before anyone could get him to a clinic. Sam 
leaned down and grabbed John's belt, apparently intending 
to cut his pants open, when two muffled shots sounded. Both 
of his attackers fell. Sam dropped across Byers' body, 
still conscious.

"Gonna kill you, fucker" Sam snarled, panting in his own 
pain. He leaned into Byers, opening another long cut with 
the knife. John wailed in agony. The back of Sam's head 
exploded from the impact of a third shot.

"John!" Logan shouted. He dragged himself the short 
distance over to Byers, pistol in hand and panic in his 
eyes.

Byers blinked, then squeezed his eyes shut as tears of pain 
ran down his cheeks. "Phone..." he gasped. "Speed dial... 
one..." The words had taken all his energy, and he slumped 
into the slush, barely conscious.

He felt Logan's hands on him, pulling the phone from his 
pocket. A breathless moment, and Logan was shouting into 
the phone. He could hear Logan, knew that he was talking to 
one of his partners, but he was dizzy and nauseous from the 
searing pain of the razor wounds, and his attention was 
flickering. The last thing he remembered as he slipped into 
the dark was the pressure of Logan's hand clenched hard 
around his bleeding wrist.

***

The microbus turned into the alley through a gathering 
crowd of people, and slid to a halt. Jimmy had the side 
door open and hit the ground running before Langly could 
get the passenger door open. Jimmy's eyes were fixed on the 
scene before him, and what he saw scared the hell out of 
him.

Logan was propped against his toppled wheelchair, leaning 
into Byers, holding his coat down over John's bloody body. 
John's tie was wrapped tightly around his arm, slowing the 
bleeding from a long wound. Lying slumped next to Byers was 
a man with the back of his head blown off, and a few feet 
away, another man, bleeding, but apparently still alive.

"Get over here, guys!" Jimmy shouted. Langly ran toward 
him, carrying a blanket to use as a stretcher.

Logan turned toward the other Gunmen. "He's lost a lot of 
blood," he said, fighting back tears. Jimmy was on his 
knees next to them, and Langly skidded to a stop just 
before he tripped over Jimmy.

"We gotta get him to a doctor," Jimmy said, frantic.

Langly rolled the blanket out and he and Jimmy slipped 
Byers' limp form onto it.

"Get Logan into the van, Jimmy. I'll get Byers." The blonde 
hacker grabbed the top corners of the blanket and skidded 
Byers across the slick pavement toward the van as Jimmy 
picked Logan up. 

Logan wrapped his arms around Jimmy's shoulders and Jimmy 
could feel him shaking hard. "Oh God, oh God," Logan was 
muttering.

"He's gonna be okay," Jimmy whispered, "he's gotta be." He 
ran for the van, sliding Logan across the floor in the 
back, then helped Langly lift Byers up and into Logan's 
lap. Logan once again began applying pressure to John's 
wounds. 

Langly stayed to help Logan as Jimmy ran to grab the 
wheelchair, folded it quickly, and slid it into the back of 
the van beside the three men. With a jerk, he slammed the 
side door, then climbed into the passenger seat next to 
Frohike and slammed the passenger door.

"Dammit," Frohike growled. Jimmy looked up and saw a 
hoverdrone approaching, probably drawn by the growing 
crowd. Frohike reached into a pocket, pulling out a small 
electronic device. He pointed it through the window, pushed 
a button, and the hoverdrone let out a squeal then crashed 
to the ground. Stuffing the device back into his pocket, 
Frohike jammed the old van into gear and made their 
getaway.

"This whole day is fucked," Frohike snarled. Jimmy knew 
that Frohike was scared for Byers and worried about being 
able to get to the meeting location in time to get Yves. 
"Everything's fucked. We're fucked."

"Shuddap and drive," Langly snapped from the back. "We 
gotta get Byers to the clinic, fast."

The five mile trip seemed endless. Frohike worked hard 
trying to negotiate the crowded streets as quickly as he 
could, honking and cursing at the people blocking the way. 
Jimmy sat quiet next to him, twisted around in his seat to 
watch Langly and Logan in the back as they tried to 
minimize John's bleeding. Langly was pulling blankets out 
of a storage space and wrapping them around Byers, then 
tossed one over Logan's shoulders as well.

He could see Logan was on the verge of tears. Since Byers 
never carried a gun, Jimmy assumed it was Logan who had 
shot the other two men in the alley. His guts knotted, and 
though he'd always felt he would never be able to kill 
another person, he realized that if he had been faced with 
a similar choice, to shoot another man, or watch John die 
in front of him, he would shoot just as Logan had. He 
remembered how he felt a few years ago, when he thought 
that the guys had died inside a collapsed missile silo, and 
how he'd spent hours trying to dig through tons of concrete 
and rubble to get to them. He was feeling the same way now, 
frantic and terrified. He prayed for the man who, just a 
few hours ago, had shared a bed and the closeness of sex 
with him. 
 
"What happened out there?" he asked.

Logan looked up, his face and arms blood-spattered. There 
was exhaustion in his eyes. "It was our fault," he said. 
"We weren't being careful enough. I didn't realize how 
dangerous it really is out here."

"How can you say this was your fault?" Langly asked, his 
voice shaky. "You didn't do this to him."

"We looked. We looked all around, and didn't see anything. 
And John kissed me." Logan's voice cracked. He took a deep 
breath and started again. "Then these two guys dropped down 
off a fire escape, and the next thing I knew, I was on the 
ground and they were beating John, cutting him up. He was 
bleeding everywhere." Logan paused, trying to collect 
himself. "He... he..."

Langly leaned reached up to lean into the wound that Logan 
covered, and Logan released his pressure. Choking back a 
sob, he wrapped his arms around John's unconscious body.

"Oh, man," Langly muttered. "God."

"That doesn't sound like your fault, or John's," Jimmy 
said. "I don't understand why these guys would attack you 
just for kissing each other."

Logan opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't speak. He 
buried his face in John's shoulder, weeping silently.

"It's because of the people in charge of the government 
right now," Frohike said. "They hate anybody who's 
different than they think people should be. That includes 
guys who love other guys, and women who love other women. 
People who aren't committing any kind of a crime, except 
the crime of being different."

He pulled up in front of the house that held the free 
clinic they usually visited. Frohike turned to Jimmy. 
"C'mon Jimmy, let's get Byers inside."

Everyone moved but Byers, and Logan, who remained huddled 
with his lover on the floor of the van. Within moments, 
Jimmy had Byers in his arms. He ran for the clinic door.

***

FREE CLINIC
1709 CHESTNUT STREET
TAKOMA PARK, MARYLAND
9:14 A.M.

Jimmy lay his friend on the examining table in what had 
once been a bedroom. A tall black man and a heavyset black 
woman, both in greying lab coats, helped him ease John into 
position.

"What happened, Jimmy?" the woman asked, not bothering to 
look up at him as she took Byers' pulse and timed his 
breathing. Her patient was soaked with blood and dirty, 
melting slush, and his skin was freezing.

"You gotta help him, Sonya," Jimmy said, pleading.

Sonya turned to her partner. "Mark, I need a saturate 
saline IV and Ringer's lactate, stat. Then get his chart 
and check his blood type. He's gonna need some, from what I 
can see here." She turned back to Byers and started cutting 
the clothes from his upper body. "Help me with this, Jimmy, 
and tell me what happened."

She turned and shouted into the hallway. "Tom, warm 
blankets, now!"

Jimmy took the scissors Sonya shoved in his hand and 
started cutting away at the sleeves of John's coat, suit 
jacket and shirt, peeling them quickly away from his 
friend's slashed wrist. "I... Logan said they got attacked 
in an alley. John got all cut up. I'm not sure what 
happened, but Logan will be here in a minute. He can tell 
you."

Sonya pulled away the last of the clothing, leaving Byers' 
smooth, slender body exposed to the waist. Jimmy stared at 
the long, bloody slashes across his friend's chest and 
abdomen, and noted with a start how pale the man had gotten 
during the drive. Byers' face was ghostly white, lips 
nearly blue, and his breath was ragged. John looked so... 
fragile, Jimmy thought, like those delicate Italian glass 
animals he saw once when he visited Venice with his family 
as a kid.

"Get me the Betadine, Jimmy," Sonya snapped, pointing to 
the bottles on a side table as Mark returned with two IV 
bags. As swiftly as he came, he dashed out of the room 
again.

"Be right back with the chart," he said, disappearing down 
the hall.

Tom, a short Asian man, entered carrying an armload of warm 
blankets. As Jimmy handed Sonya a large bottle of Betadine, 
Tom arranged two of the blankets over Byers' legs and 
packed two more along his sides, tucking his uninjured arm 
under a fold. He left the hand exposed for the IV.

Sonya swabbed down Byers' hand with the Betadine, then 
prepped and inserted an IV needle, hooking the bleeding man 
to the IV fluids. She grabbed a penlight, lifting Byers' 
eyelids and testing quickly for pupil response. "Did he get 
hit in the head?" she asked.

"I don't know," Jimmy said.

Logan's voice interrupted from behind. "Yes, he did." Jimmy 
looked over his shoulder to see Langly wheeling Logan into 
the room.

"How is he?" Langly asked.

"Don't know yet," Sonya said, "everything looks 
superficial, from what I can tell so far." She began 
irrigating Byers' wounds with the Betadine. "You Logan?" 
she asked.

Logan nodded. Sonya continued. "What happened to him? What 
kind of weapons were used?"

Logan took a deep breath. "Bicycle lock chain. He got hit 
several times, once in the head. It knocked him off his 
feet. The other guy had... I think it was a packing knife." 
Logan's voice was unsteady, wet trails on his cheeks where 
tears were falling.

"Okay. That helps. Wounds are probably going to be shallow 
then."

Mark hurried into the room past Logan's wheelchair, 
carrying Byers' chart. "Type A positive," he said. "I've 
got Tom checking the fridge for that and O positive right 
now."

"Great," Sonya said. She handed Mark the Betadine. "Get the 
wound on his arm." Sonya grabbed the blood pressure cuff 
and wrapped it around Byers' good arm, inflating it, then 
watched the dial carefully for the results.

She shook her head at the reading. "90 over 60," she said. 
"Not good." She jotted some hurried numbers in Byers' file 
then turned back to her patient to start examining the 
wounds in his exposed chest and abdomen.

Jimmy stood back from the commotion, huddling next to 
Langly and Logan. The three were silent as they watched 
Sonya and Mark work on their friend.

"I want you guys out of here," Sonya snapped when she 
noticed Frohike entering the room. "It's too damned crowded 
to work."

Frohike turned to Langly. "He gonna be okay?"

"They're not sure yet, " Langly said.

Frohike grimaced. "We can't afford to wait here and find 
out. We've gotta make that meeting." He turned and spoke to 
Jimmy. "We're gonna leave you and Logan here. You take care 
of them, okay?"

Jimmy nodded. Frohike and Langly turned and ran back out to 
the van.

"You two. Out!" Sonya said, staring at Jimmy.

Jimmy started to protest. "But --"

Logan took Jimmy's wrist. "She's right. They need space to 
do their work. Let's go back to the waiting room."

Jimmy looked down and saw the fear in Logan's eyes. "Okay," 
he said. He turned and took the handles of Logan's chair, 
and they returned to the waiting room. He found an open 
spot for Logan, then sat on the floor next to the 
wheelchair. The clinic was in a fairly large house that had 
been hastily converted into medical offices shortly after 
the Collapse. The "waiting room" had once been a living 
room, and there were about three dozen people crowded into 
it, sitting on chairs, couches, or the floor. Sonya and 
most of the rest of the small staff lived upstairs or in 
the converted garage, on call for emergencies at any hour. 
Jimmy knew they were at one of the few places in the region 
where people could get help for their ills and injuries 
without having to produce identification and proof of 
church membership, or answer any political questions, and 
they wouldn't be turned away for being too poor. The clinic 
worked on barter, or for medical supplies, and he and the 
Gunmen had been coming here for three years now. Most 
often, the Gunmen paid for their health care in produce 
from their hydroponics, or by servicing the clinic's 
computers and medical equipment.

Kyle, the clinic's receptionist, came over and crouched 
next to Jimmy. "I saw Byers, man. You okay? Either of you 
guys want some peppermint tea or something?"

Jimmy shook his head. "I think I'll be okay," he said 
quietly. "How about you, Logan. Did you get hurt when the 
guys attacked you? You want some tea?"

Kyle looked up at Logan. "You were attacked as well?"

Logan nodded. "I didn't get hit, though, just tossed out of 
my chair. I doubt I have anything but a couple of bruises. 
But I'm freezing, so yeah, I'd really like that cup of hot 
peppermint. Maybe a  warm blanket."

Kyle nodded and stood. "I'll be right back." With a sigh, 
he turned and disappeared into the next room.

Jimmy leaned on the side of Logan's chair. "You're not 
really all right." He took Logan's hand. It was cold, and 
Logan was still shaking. His clothes were soaked, as Byers 
were. "You should take off that wet blanket. It'll be 
easier for the new one to warm you up that way," he said.

"No, I'm not," Logan admitted, as Jimmy helped him peel the 
cold, damp blanket from around his shoulders, then lifted 
it up and out. Logan settled back again, and Jimmy set the 
sopping item on the floor next to him. "I just want to be 
back in his room, holding him, like we were a couple of 
hours ago," Logan whispered.

Jimmy wrapped an arm around Logan's shoulders. "Me too," he 
said. "More than anything."

Kyle returned with two warm blankets, and Jimmy helped him 
wrap one around Logan's back and shoulders, and the other 
around his legs.

"Tea will be ready in just a minute," Kyle said. "In the 
meantime, Jimmy, are you and the guys going to be able to 
come up with anything to pay for Byers' treatment? Looks 
like it's going to have to be more than just some produce 
this time. From what Tom said, he's going to need 
antibiotics and pain meds. That stuff's expensive."

"I don't know," Jimmy replied. He wasn't the one who 
negotiated these things. That usually fell to Byers, who 
wasn't going to be doing any dealing today. "Byers usually 
does that," he said quietly.

Kyle nodded, sympathetic. "Yeah, I know. Why aren't Frohike 
and Langly here with you?"

"They... they had something real important they had to do," 
Jimmy said. "They'll be back later, though, if everything 
goes okay."

"I can pay," Logan said.

Kyle turned to him. "I don't know you." The words were 
spoken kindly, but Jimmy knew that who a person knew was 
real important in a place like this. 

He spoke up for Logan. "He's okay, Kyle. He's... he's a 
real close friend of John's... and mine. He's visiting from 
out of town."

Kyle nodded. "What do you have to offer?"

"Northwest creds," Logan replied, sotto voce, "and, if you 
need it, a connection to a reliable medical supplier who 
can get things into the area."

Kyle's eyes widened. "Come back into the office," he said 
in a whisper, standing, and heading back to the room he'd 
emerged from moments earlier.

Jimmy got up and retrieved the damp blanket from the floor 
as Logan followed Kyle. As they passed through the kitchen, 
Kyle handed Logan a steaming mug, then led them out through 
the hallway toward the back of the house. 

As they passed the exam room, Jimmy opened the door a crack 
and looked in. He heard John moaning and whimpering 
quietly, then saw that his eyes were open, but they didn't 
look focused. Sonya and Mark were stitching him up. He and 
Logan paused at the door.

"Do you... do you want someone here for him?" Jimmy asked.

Sonya looked up, startled, then went back to her work. 
"Yeah, I think he needs that right now. You can come in and 
hold his hand while we work on him, Jimmy."

"Okay," he replied. Logan and Kyle continued back to the 
office as Jimmy entered the exam room. Mark handed him a 
surgical mask, and he put it on. He pulled up a chair and 
sat at Byers' head, stroking a hand through John's wet 
hair. 

"Why is he awake?" Jimmy asked.

"He started coming around once he got sufficiently 
rehydrated," Sonya said, not looking up from her work. 
"He's not really aware of much right now, though. We gave 
him some morphine for the pain, but we have to keep him 
awake because of the knock he got on his head. We'll have 
to x-ray his skull to see if there are any fractures, but 
we have to get him stitched up first."

Jimmy nodded, leaning his face close to John's. He spoke to 
him quietly. "It's okay, John. It's Jimmy. I'm here. 
Logan's close by. We're here for you." His voice seemed to 
comfort John, and the moans quieted, replaced by the sound 
of Byers' ragged breathing.

"That's good, Jimmy," Mark said. "Keep talking to him. He 
needs to know he's got friends nearby. You need to help us 
keep him calm and awake, okay?"

Jimmy nodded. "Will he... will he be okay?" 

"Yeah, as long as there aren't any complications, he should 
be good as new," Mark replied as he worked. "He's going to 
hurt for a while, probably feel pretty sick for a few days. 
Might run a fever for a bit while he's recovering, but it 
should be minor. The worst thing will be the headache. 
It'll be a mother. When Frohike gets back, we'll tell him 
what to do to take care of him, don't worry."

Jimmy nodded and turned his attention back to John. 'I 
should have told him,' he thought. 'I was too scared to 
tell him, but I should have told him.' He knew that he 
could never say the words here, not in front of anyone but 
John himself, and maybe Logan or the guys. John lying here 
was proof enough that admitting to loving another man was 
dangerous. It could have been deadly, and he would never 
intentionally put John at risk. He watched his friend's 
vacant eyes, whispering to him, telling him that he would 
be all right, that he'd be home soon, safe, that everyone 
would take care of him.

For a moment, John's blue eyes cleared and focused on his 
own. "Jimmy..." he whispered.

Jimmy couldn't hold his tears back anymore. "I'm here," he 
said. "I'm here." He stroked John's cheek softly. "I'll 
always be here for you."

Byers blinked and moaned again softly. "Hurts," he mumbled.

"I know," Jimmy said. He sniffled behind his surgical mask. 
"I wish I could make it stop." He stroked John's shoulder 
gently.

Byers' eyes lost their focus again, and he drifted. Jimmy 
leaned his forehead on John's, and let his tears fall.

***
DOCKSIDE WAREHOUSE
LOCATION UNKNOWN
10:04 A.M.

Frohike and Langly watched nervously as they waited next to 
the microbus for their contact to show himself. Melvin 
shook his head impatiently.

"They should have been here five minutes ago," he growled. 
"If they screwed us, I'm gonna find these guys and rip 
their nads off with my bare hands."

"I'll hold 'em down for ya," Langly said. "This sucks." He 
shivered in the cold. "I'd rather be with Byers, man."

Frohike looked at his tall, wiry companion. "You and me 
both. God, I hope we didn't make a mistake, leaving Jimmy 
there to watch out from him and Logan." He wasn't sure if 
Logan was in much shape to watch out for himself right now, 
and it had been obvious that Byers wasn't. Someone had 
needed to stay with them, and he wouldn't trust Jimmy to 
make the exchange, even with Langly's help, so he had been 
the only logical choice to stay at the clinic. He looked 
around again, waiting for something -- anything -- to 
happen.

He and Langly turned in unison as they heard a vehicle 
approach. It was a black electric van, as described by 
their contact. Frohike held his breath as the van rounded 
the corner and pulled into the alley, stopping next to 
Gilgamesh. 

The driver's window rolled down partway. "You got the 
stuff?" a man's voice asked.

"You got our merchandise?" Frohike asked gruffly.

The driver snorted. "Yeah." The door of the black van 
opened and the driver stepped out, an Asian man in his late 
50s, wearing a warm, very new-looking wool coat. Frohike 
felt a pang of jealousy. "Let's see it."

"We want to see the girl first," Langly said.

The man looked up at him and shrugged. He motioned for them 
to follow him around to the other side of the van. The men 
all scanned the sky for hoverdrones as the black van's side 
door opened. Frohike and Langly looked inside.

On the floor of the van, bound and unconscious, lay Yves. A 
second man sat on a bench seat above her, gun in hand.

Frohike leaned in to look her over.

"Hey, careful," the Asian man said.

"We just have to make sure she's not going to die on us 
five minutes after you drive off with our stuff," Frohike 
said, projecting his best 'tough biker' vibes.

"Not like we wanna pay for damaged goods," Langly added. 

The armed man looked at the Asian, who nodded. "Certainly," 
the Asian man replied. "We don't deal in damaged goods."

Relieved, Frohike and Langly crowded into the door next to 
Yves. Frohike took her pulse. Strong but slow, as was her 
respiration. There were some bruises, but most of the cuts 
they'd seen in the graphics file were already healing. He 
took out a pen light and shined it into her eyes, looking 
for pupil response. Yves' responses were healthy but 
appeared drugged, as he expected.

"Okay?" Langly asked.

Frohike nodded. "We accept the trade," he announced.

"Where's the merchandise?" the Asian man asked.

"Just a minute," Langly said. He started around the van. 
The Asian man started to follow him.

"I have the tea," Frohike said, pulling the plastic baggie 
from his pocket. He handed it to the man. Melvin didn't 
want the Asian getting a good look at the equipment in the 
back of the van, and fortunately, the tea distracted him.

Opening the bag, the Asian quickly eyed the contents, 
sniffed the tea and nodded. "Satisfactory," he said, as 
Langly rounded the corner carrying the loaded 286 box.

"Set that in the seat," the Asian said. He pointed at the 
box, and his assistant brought out a laptop, hooking it up 
to the older box. Langly disappeared again as the assistant 
plugged the 286 into a power source, and ran basic 
diagnostics on it.

"Tomato starts," Langly announced, carrying the dozen young 
plants in a cardboard box. The Asian examined them as 
carefully as Frohike had examined Yves.

"Very nice quality, gentlemen." He slid the starts into the 
back of the van, past Yves' head.

Frohike nodded. "We provide the best," he said, a hint of 
pride in his voice.

"And the night-vision goggles?"

Frohike pulled them out of a deep pocket inside his leather 
jacket. "Best military surplus in the business."

The Asian smiled, and reached for the goggles.

Frohike pulled them back. "Get the chick, Blondie." He 
looked at Langly, then at the Asian.

The Asian man looked to his assistant. "Is the box as 
advertised?"

"Yeah, checks out," the assistant said.

"Take her," the Asian said to Langly. Langly picked Yves up 
in his arms with a grunt, and carried her to the van.

"Here you go, pal. Use 'em in good health." He handed the 
night-vision goggles to the Asian, then hurried back to the 
van.

Langly had slid Yves into the bench seat, between himself 
and the driver's seat. As Frohike climbed in, he was 
working on releasing her bonds. "Let's get out of here, 
dude. This is fuckin' creepy."

"I'm with you," Frohike agreed. He put the van into gear 
and took off, watching the rear view mirror in case their 
contact decided to welsh on their contract. He breathed a 
sigh of relief when he saw the black van take off in 
another direction.

"Thank God that's over," he said.

Langly nodded. "Like, I hope Yves wakes up soon. She's 
drooling on my shoulder."

***
FREE CLINIC
1709 CHESTNUT STREET
TAKOMA PARK, MARYLAND
11:21 A.M.

"You okay?" Frohike's voice rang across the waiting room as 
he approached.

"I will be in a while," Logan said. He looked for Langly, 
but the blonde hacker wasn't following his shorter 
companion.

Frohike nodded. "Where's Jimmy?"

"In with John. They're checking his x-rays right now to see 
if there was any serious damage to his skull." Logan 
shifted restlessly. "Is everything all right?"

"Went off smooth as a baby's bottom," Frohike replied. 
"How's Byers, and why is Jimmy with him instead of you?"

"They said John would be okay, and the x-ray room is 
upstairs." Logan sighed, frustrated. "Jimmy was a little 
better equipped for the trip than me."

Kyle joined them. "Hey, Frohike."

Frohike looked up. "Hey, Kyle. What are we going to owe you 
for all this?"

"It's taken care of," Kyle said softly. "Actually, if 
everything works out, Langly should be getting his asthma 
meds for free next year, and if anything happens to Byers 
again, he's covered, anytime."

Frohike's face opened in astonishment. "What the hell did 
Jimmy promise you?" he asked, incredulous, with obvious 
worry in his voice.

"It wasn't Jimmy," Logan said, "it was me. And don't worry, 
it's taken care of."

Frohike stared for a moment, then smiled. "Thanks."

Logan shook his head. "Don't mention it. I needed to do 
this."

Sonya came into the room carrying several sheets of paper. 
"Oh, Frohike, I'm glad you're here." She reached out and 
shook his hand. "Looks like your boy's going to be just 
fine. We've got him on IV Rocephin, his blood pressure's 
back up to something vaguely approaching normal, and while 
he has a concussion, there's no serious damage. You're just 
going to have to keep him awake for the next 24 hours or 
so, then you can let him sleep. He'll need it. I've got 
full instructions for you for taking care of him at home. 
We'll release him to you in about fifteen minutes." She 
handed Frohike the papers she'd been holding.

"You sure he's okay to travel?" Frohike asked.

Sonya sighed. "Other times, other places, I'd put him in a 
hospital for observation, but we don't have any beds right 
now, and I know you guys will take good care of him. 
Besides, you can call Dr. Scully, right?"

Frohike nodded, smiling. "Oh, yeah. Any excuse is a good 
one."

***

IN THE VAN
12:26 P.M.

Yves groaned and stirred. 

"Hey girlie, welcome back," Langly said.

Yves' eyes opened and she looked at him. "Oh my God. What 
in bloody hell are you doing here? And where is here?" She 
looked around.

"We rescued you from the bad guys," Jimmy said.

"Bad guys?" Yves asked, confused.

Logan watched from the back of the van, cradling Byers 
carefully in his lap. He held him close to cushion the 
roughness of the van's bouncing as they made their way 
through the last mile back to the Gunmen's offices.

"We'll tell you about it later," Frohike said. "Now, what 
we want to know is, where the hell have you been for the 
last three weeks that you couldn't bother getting a message 
to Max?"

"Max was trying to contact me?" she asked, confusion 
evident in her face.

"Yes," Logan said. "And we couldn't find you anywhere."

"Logan?" She blinked. Everyone looked at her but Byers, and 
Frohike, who was watching the road.

"I was... I was out of the country for the past three 
weeks," she said, "following up on a lead I was chasing for 
some reward money. I got back... what day is it?"

"The fifth," Langly said.

Yves sighed. "Christ, a day and a half ago now."

"How did you, of all people, manage to get grabbed?" 
Frohike asked.

Yves blushed. 

"Come on, Yves, you gotta tell us," Langly insisted. "We 
had to pay a 286, a dozen tomato plants, some night vision 
goggles and six tea bags to get you back!"

"What?" Yves shouted, "a 286? You cheap bastards, you know 
I'm worth at least an Octium IV machine --"

"Yeah," Frohike interrupted, his annoyance clear, "but 
don't bitch too hard, babe." He pointed over his shoulder 
into the back of the van. "Byers paid the highest price for 
you."

Yves turned in the seat and saw Byers lying in Logan's lap, 
an IV line in his hand. His eyes were half open, unfocused. 

Logan looked up at Yves. "This happened when we were out 
trading for the tea bags we traded for you," he said 
quietly, knowing she could hear him over the rattle and 
whine of the microbus's engine. John whimpered as the van 
hit yet another pothole, and Logan turned his attention 
back to his blanket-wrapped lover. "It's all right, John," 
he whispered, "we'll be home soon. This will all be over 
soon."

"Oh my God." Yves lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry, boys. I... 
I had no idea."

Frohike pulled the van into the alley near their stairs. 
"Okay folks, all out."

Jimmy and Langly opened their doors and started to move 
Byers gently out of the van.

"Please," Yves said, "let me help."

Jimmy and Logan looked at each other. Logan nodded.

"Okay," Jimmy said.

Yves picked Byers up effortlessly. Langly took the IV and 
followed her up the stairs to the living quarters to settle 
Byers in his room.

Jimmy carried Logan up the stairs after them, leaving 
Frohike to watch the van until Langly could make a second 
trip for the wheelchair and to help Frohike carry medical 
supplies in.

Logan leaned into Jimmy's arms, putting his own around the 
man's broad shoulders. "Take me into John's room so I can 
be with him," he asked.

"Don't worry," Jimmy said. "That's where we're going."

They entered Byers' room as Yves was carefully laying him 
on the bed. Langly hung the IV bag from a hook holding part 
of the grid of strings that supported the pepper vines. 
Logan watched as she and Langly unwrapped the blankets from 
around John's body and carefully stripped the rest of his 
still-damp clothing off. Langly pulled a pair of worn 
flannel pajamas from one of the dresser drawers, and they 
slipped him into the pajamas. John moaned as they moved 
him, and Langly's forehead creased with concern. He ran a 
long, thin hand across Byers' forehead and sighed.

"I'm gonna go help Fro get the rest of the stuff in," 
Langly said. "Could you warm up a couple clean blankets for 
him, Yves? He's kinda sweaty. I don't want him to get a 
chill or anything."

Yves pulled the covers up around Byers. "As soon as I find 
them," she said. She left the room to look for blankets as 
Langly hurried out to help Frohike.

Logan settled himself as Jimmy gently set him on the bed 
next to John. "Jimmy, can you help me get my shoes and 
pants off? It'll help keep John warm if I get into bed with 
him." In truth, it wasn't just for warmth that Logan wanted 
to lie naked next to his lover. He needed the comfort of 
John's heartbeat in his ear, to press himself to the man's 
slim form. He needed the warmth of John's body as much as 
he suspected that John needed his.

"Yeah," Jimmy said. As Logan unbuckled his belt and slid 
the zipper down, Jimmy untied his shoes and pulled them 
off, then pulled the damp socks from Logan's feet.

"Here," Logan said, lifting his hips from the bed by 
putting his weight onto both hands. Jimmy tugged the pants 
and briefs down over Logan's legs and tossed them into the 
corner, where he'd tossed Logan's shoes.

Logan unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it into the pile as 
well, then Jimmy helped him slide under the covers with 
John, avoiding the IV tube attached to the man's hand. As 
Logan adjusted his weight, Jimmy started peeling his own 
clothes off too. Logan looked up at him.

"If one body's good, maybe two will be better," he said.

Logan nodded. "Maybe it will, Jimmy." The athletic blonde 
slid in on the other side of John's quiet form. The two men 
curled themselves carefully around the exhausted, injured 
man, arranging the covers carefully. 

John rolled his head to look at Logan. He blinked, and his 
eyes focused again. "So tired," he whispered. "Hurt so 
much..."

Logan's chest tightened. He ached for his lover, wishing he 
could stop the pain and let him sleep. He ran his hand 
carefully along John's chest, avoiding the dressing over 
the two long wounds. "You need to stay awake, John. You 
have to stay with us for a while before you can sleep."

Jimmy ran his hand gently down John's injured arm. "We're 
going to make sure you get better," he said. Byers turned 
his face to his friend. He tried to speak, but couldn't 
summon the energy. Logan watched as Jimmy leaned in and 
kissed John softly. Byers sighed and Logan could feel some 
of the tension seep out of John's muscles.

"I should have told you earlier," Jimmy whispered. "We 
could have lost you. I was just... I was afraid to say it."

"To say what?" Logan asked.

Jimmy looked up at him, then back down to John. "I... John, 
I love you. I have since I met you. I know you don't love 
me back, but that's okay. I don't mind. I'll always be here 
for you anyway. I won't --"

Byers moved slowly and painfully, placing two fingers over 
Jimmy's lips to silence him, then taking Jimmy's hand in 
his. "Never... never knew," he said.

"Don't talk," Jimmy said. "It's okay."

Logan's eyes met Jimmy's as he looked up from John's face. 
"I'm sorry," Jimmy said, his voice filled with sadness. "I 
don't want to mess things up for you guys."

Logan shook his head. "I don't think you will," he said. He 
felt a stab of jealousy, but the feeling that overwhelmed 
him was, strangely, relief. "I'm... I think I'm actually 
relieved to know that he has you here with him." He looked 
back down to John, stroking his cheek. "We're both here for 
you," he said gently, "whatever happens."

Byers leaned his head on Logan's shoulder, still holding 
Jimmy's hand, and nodded weakly. The three men lay 
together, silent.

A few minutes later, Yves entered, carrying blankets. 
"Well, aren't we a charming sight?" she said. "Three boys 
in a blanket." She set the blankets down on Jimmy's hip. 
"I'll let you two take care of these. Put them over Byers 
under the covers." She turned to leave.

"Petra," Logan said. She stopped and turned to him.

"Yes?"

Logan pointed. "In the bottom of John's closet, on the 
right hand side, there's a brown duffel bag. In the zip 
pocket along the front, there's a disk for you. It's from 
Max. She asked me to bring it to you."

She opened the closet and found the disk. "What's on it?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. She said you were the 
only one who should see it."

Yves nodded. "Thank you, Logan." She pocketed the disk and 
left.

***

LONE GUNMEN OFFICES
DECEMBER 12, 2003
5:17 P.M.

Byers sat in his bed, propped on pillows. Jimmy was perched 
on the edge of the bed, while Logan sat in his wheelchair 
next to them. John was tired, achy and sore from his 
wounds, and they'd begun to itch like crazy. He'd had a 
mild fever for three days, but it had broken five days ago, 
and he'd been getting up for a little while every day since 
then, to build up his strength.

Dana Scully, a doctor since the F.B.I. had gone from a 
criminal investigation organization to a paramilitary unit 
shortly after the Collapse, had visited at least once a day 
since the incident. She brought antibiotics and pain 
medications for him, along with news of how she was getting 
on, and Mulder's continuing strange adventures.

Logan and Jimmy had been sleeping with him every night, one 
on either side. Despite the pain, he found a great sense of 
security and comfort in their presence. Their touches, the 
sound of their breathing in the night, and the kisses and 
caresses they all shared made him wish that Scully would 
release him for... strenuous activity.

Among the caresses and kisses, there had been a lot of 
talk, as well. In the first two days, he hadn't had energy 
for it, but he'd at least been able to give a response now 
and then. Over the past several days, though, he'd been 
able to participate rather more actively. Jimmy had been 
afraid that John wouldn't want to be close to him again 
after Logan left, while Logan admitted to jealousy at the 
idea of Jimmy being so close while he lived on the other 
side of the continent. John felt that if the two of them 
could work it out with one another, he was willing to try 
being with both of them. That led to Jimmy and Logan 
spending a lot of time talking on their own while he 
rested.

He'd slept a lot in the last week as well, and knew from 
his conversations with Langly and Frohike that Logan had 
been spending time engaging in shop talk with them. Langly 
had come into his room yesterday, all excited, and told him 
how Logan had helped them set up some new equipment. He 
refused, however, to give any details. John had felt some 
annoyance, but was glad that Logan and the guys had hit it 
off so well. After what had happened, he would have been 
angry if they hadn't accepted his lover.

John's emotions were in flux after being attacked. He felt 
a terrible need to isolate himself from the world, to steep 
himself in the paranoia he had cultivated for so many 
years, shutting out his friends and lovers. He felt unsafe 
even thinking about going outside. He doubted his own 
judgment now, worried that he would make yet another error, 
this time fatal.

Yet, through his fears, Logan and Jimmy encouraged him. 
Their constant company eased the anxiety he felt. In the 
last week, they'd never been far away. But Logan had to 
leave in only a few minutes, and John wasn't ready for him 
to go. He was just starting to feel well enough to actively 
enjoy Logan's company again.

"It'll be all right, John," Logan assured him, "I'll make 
sure to contact you as soon as I'm back in Seattle." Logan 
took his hand and squeezed.

John sighed and squeezed back. "It's not the same, Logan. I 
wish you could stay longer. I wanted to be able to spend 
time with you, but not like this," he said. Jimmy slid an 
arm around his shoulders, and John leaned into him.

"He'll be back," Jimmy said. "Soon, I hope."

Logan nodded. "I will, don't worry."

Frohike stuck his head in the door. "Sorry guys, time for 
Logan to go. I'll go get the van ready. Jimmy, you bring 
Logan down. And let's keep the sniffly goodbyes to a 
minimum, eh?" He grinned.

"Okay, Frohike," Jimmy said. "We'll be just a minute." 
Frohike nodded and ducked out.

John slid forward on the bed as Logan opened his arms. The 
two embraced tightly and kissed each other deeply. The kiss 
was long and sensual, and both were breathless when they 
finally parted. "I'll miss you," John whispered in Logan's 
ear before releasing him.

"I'll miss you too," Logan said. He drew something from his 
pocket and handed it to Byers.

John opened his hand. A key lay in his palm. "What's this 
for?" he asked.

"My apartment," Logan replied with a wink. "I want you to 
use it as often as possible. Come on, Jimmy. Frohike's 
likely to rip my lungs out if he thinks we're going to be 
late."

"I'll be back in a minute, John," Jimmy said. He and Logan 
left the room. Byers slumped back into his pillows, 
depressed.

A few seconds later, Langly came in carrying a small TV. 
"Hey, man, I got something for you."

"I don't want a TV in here, Langly," he said.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Just bear with me for a few, okay? 
It's a surprise."

Byers rolled his eyes. "Let me guess, you've managed to 
find half a dozen Godzilla flicks and you're going to wire 
up a marathon for everyone tonight."

Langly grinned as he hooked up the TV. "Hey, Godzilla 
flicks are an art form. But in this case, it's way better 
than that."

"God, I hope so," Byers said, a little of his sadness 
lifting as he engaged in their familiar banter. "I'm not in 
the mood to watch him stomp Tokyo yet again. But I suppose 
I could live with a couple of Errol Flynn movies, if you 
can find them."

"Yeah, right, like I'm gonna go looking for some 
swashbuckler flick made by some Nazi spy."

Byers smirked. "Okay, so he was a Nazi sympathizer, but 
you've got to admit, he made some great movies."

Langly plugged the TV in. "Well, maybe, but I liked Douglas 
Fairbanks, Jr. better. He ruled, dude. I mean, how can you 
possibly beat 'The Black Pirate'?"

Jimmy came back and sat next to John. "Are we gonna watch 
TV?" he asked. "I mean, it's not like they play much that's 
any good anymore, but maybe they'll have some Bugs Bunny or 
something."

Langly flicked the TV on. The picture resolved to show a 
heavily censored local news program.

"Nothing new there," John said, feeling impatient. "Where's 
the surprise you were talking about?"

Langly stood and examined his handiwork, then laughed. "You 
just keep your narc ass parked right there, Byers. You'll 
see soon enough." He continued his delighted chuckle as he 
left the room.

"What's supposed to happen?" Jimmy asked, climbing over 
Byers to lean against the wall. John waited until Jimmy 
settled down, then snuggled up next to the bigger man. 
Jimmy wrapped his arms around John's waist, careful not to 
press too hard and hurt him.

Just as they were getting comfortable, the screen went 
black. Jimi Hendrix's riff on the 'Star Spangled Banner' 
blasted from the speaker, and an American flag waved across 
the screen. John and Jimmy looked at one another, then back 
at the screen. The volume of the music lowered, and an 
electronically distorted voice began to speak.

"Do not attempt to adjust your set. We control the 
horizontal. We control the vertical. We are the Lone 
Gunmen, and for the next sixty seconds, you'll hear about 
what's really going on outside your door -- the stories the 
government goons won't tell you..."

John laughed.

End