PART 2: "It always comes too quickly."

Chapter 2

Thus began one of the oddest relationships Michael ever had in his life. He and Jesse spent that day together, but Jesse had to go to work that night and so did Michael. They looked at their schedules and decided when to meet. It usually worked out that they were able to see each other once or twice a week. Within a month, Michael had helped Jesse find a place, then helped him move into it.

Helping Jesse move was a singular experience. It was fast and easy. Jesse had very few possessions: some clothes and an incredible amount of books.

"My job," Jesse said with a shrug. "Lots of books all the time."

They continued to see each other on and off, although Jesse moved around a lot. Pittsburgh seemed to be a center of operations for him since it had easy access to the heartland of America. So with Jesse away a lot and Michael working nights, it was difficult for them to see each other sometimes.

It didn't seem to dampen their enthusiasm for each other when they were able to get together, however.

Methos had settled quite comfortably in Pittsburgh. His new place was easy since it came furnished and he had only his clothes and books to worry about. His clothes, his books and Michael.

Methos had no idea how he ever got started in the relationship with Michael, or why he allowed it to continue. The main reason was probably because he was enormously attracted to Michael and couldn't get him out of his mind. Even so, the relationship didn't seem to be getting serious. Not even Michael, who seemed as attracted to Methos, was pushing to get more seriously involved. So since they were just having fun together, at least on the surface, Methos stopped worrying about it and started looking for a gym.

He didn't ask Michael to help find the gym, because he was looking for a very special gym. He wanted a place where he could discreetly spar with someone who could use a sword.

It had been many decades since he had faced anyone, and he wanted to keep it that way, but he never forgot the lesson Kalas had taught him a hundred years before. Not being in the Game is no reason to get rusty. So he was looking for a sparring partner to keep his reflexes good and his edge sharp.

Duncan MacLeod was a perfect partner. MacLeod always sparred as if he were fighting for his life, which was the only way to keep your edge, so that was what Methos was looking for, in Pittsburgh. The difficulty with that, however, is how do you find a mortal in this day and age who would be able to do that--fight as if he were fighting for his life?

A few discreet inquiries yielded a good lead. The gym he showed up at was in downtown Pittsburgh on a small street off of Market Street on the way to the meeting of the Three Rivers.

It was not a pretty place, but everyone there was doing serious workouts. The owner was a sword master who had worked on many stage, television and film projects. Not only that, he was proficient in working with dueling swords and broadswords as well as rapiers. Methos was told that he was one of the best, although he was considered out of the mainstream because he was willing to sacrifice safety, even his own, to get the sword choreography just right. To Methos, this sounded like a plus. He just might be the man for the job.

The gym owner/sword master's name was Ed Lacey. He was older than Methos had expected, in his early sixties, but he was well developed, with muscled, whipcord strength that spoke of his many years with swords and working out to do the sword work. Methos spoke to him for a while to get a feel for the man, asking him about his experience and about the things that he, Methos, had heard about Ed's cavalier attitude toward safety in certain circumstances.

Ed just shrugged at that. "There are times," the old man said, "when it's better to risk a little to get what you need."

This was exactly what Methos needed to hear, so he asked Ed the crucial question, the first time he asked anyone.

"I am quite proficient with a sword, and I'd like to know if you would spar with me with broadswords, as if your life depended on it."

Ed studied Methos's expressionless face.

"Well, Mr. Williams--" Ed responded slowly.

"Please, call me Jesse," Methos interrupted.

"Sparring with you is fine, Jesse, but fighting as if my life depended on it is a bit drastic, don't you think?"

"Well, that's what I need," Methos answered. "I find that it makes for a better swordsman. If you have a problem with that, I can go elsewhere."

"No, no, I don't have a problem with it. It's just that it's an unusual request, and there are other issues."

"Like what?"

"Well, liability, for instance. What if I hurt you? Or you me? And we're gonna draw a crowd. I mean, fighting for your life looks very different from choreography."

"I don't want a crowd. I don't anyone to know about this."

"Well, that will certainly help my liability if nobody knows about it. But what about the other thing?"

"If you hurt me? Don't worry about it. I'll sign anything you need me to. You are not responsible for anything you might do to me. That will work both ways, however."

"Understandable. If I agree to do this, it will work both ways. It will cost more, however," he warned.

Methos nodded. "Of course."

The sword master was quiet for a moment, considering everything he could. The prospect was fascinating to him, and he was more than interested. He studied the young man in front of him wondering why he wanted this, but there was something about the stranger that did not invite inquiries. It repelled them, in fact. Ed found that he did not really want to know why. It seemed better not to know.

"Do you need time to think about it?" Methos asked. "I can came back."

Ed shook his head. "No, that won't be necessary. I'll do it. I'll draw up the papers myself and we'll both sign them. We can start tomorrow, if you'd like, just the way you want it, broadswords, as if our lives depended on it."

"Good! I look forward to it."

" Would you like to see my swords so you can pick one out?"

"Not necessary. I'll bring my own. What time?"

"Well, 10 p.m. would be the best time if we want to do it away from the crowds. Is that too late?"

Methos smiled. It was a bit frosty. "No. That would be perfect. I'll see you then."

Turning on his heel, he left the gym. Ed Lacey watched him go with a puzzled frown. That was certainly an odd young man, and if Ed was not mistaken, a dangerous one. He wondered briefly what he was getting himself into. There was one thing that was definite, however. It would be better for all concerned, especially Ed Lacey, if nobody knew about this new client, especially his wife.

Ed Lacey's wife was not happy that he was coming home later than usual, but whatever he was doing was good for him. He had a new client that was paying him more than usual for a workout, and what ever those workouts were, they were making Ed very happy.

Ed quickly found that he loved the sparring matches with his strange new client. They were exciting and invigorating. Whenever he and Jesse would face off, neither had any idea what was going to happen. They would attack each other with everything they had, and Ed found that he was pulling out every trick he had to "win" the bouts with Jesse.

Jesse had not lied when he said that he was proficient with the broadsword. He was more than proficient. He was good, very good, and it kept Ed on his toes.

He was keeping up, however, and he felt younger, happier, and more in control. It was showing with his interactions not only with people at the gym but at home as well. His wife was reaping the benefits of a more energetic husband who was suddenly filled with life and vigor. The minor cuts, bruises and scrapes he occasionally came home with were brushed off as nothing and so she took them as such, a small price for this new life. For Ed's part, he was taking the minor cuts and bruises as a bonus. He felt he was getting more out of this relationship than Jesse was, at least at first.

The bouts usually started fairly ordinarily. The two men would face off, then one of them would make a move. They were fighting as if their lives depended on it, but it was necessary for one or the other to hold back on occasion or one could have done serious damage to the other, especially to Ed Lacey. The bouts usually ended when one or the other made a feint to an area of the body that would be fatal if stabbed or cut.

This went on for over a month, with Jesse coming to the gym at least three times a week, if he was in town. This night, however, was different.

Jesse was very late. He came rushing in, his sword already in his hand although he still had his street clothes on. He was sweating and looked agitated and hounded.

"Hey, Jesse," Ed called to him. "What's going on? You're late."

Jesse whirled on him, holding the sword at the ready. "I'm late?" he asked. It was almost a snarl. "Well, then, let's get started."

Ed shrugged and went for his sword. "Okay. You gonna get changed?"

"I don't think so."

Ed barely had time to get his sword up before Jesse was on him. With thrust, swing, block and parry, they fought their way across the floor, but it was different. Jesse didn't look as he usually did. Normally, he fought with impassive grace and control, always focused and alert. He was focused and alert all right, very much so, but there was a scary difference to it. His face was set and cold, his eyes hard.

For the first time, Ed was frightened for his life, and for the first time felt that he really was fighting for his life. Neither Jesse's street clothes nor the long raincoat seemed to hamper him at all. Fear coiled in the pit of Ed's stomach, fueling spurts of adrenaline that were pumping through his system.

The rush of adrenaline was helping to keep him focused on every move, every gambit. Everything around them faded and receded out of his awareness and Ed's entire world was the maniac in a coat coming after him with broadsword and murdering eyes. Ed watched Jesse's hands, his eyes and his body movements. It was going much quicker than ordinarily, and Ed knew that this bout would be ending faster than usual. He just hoped he was alive at the end of it.

Ed was right, the bout ended quickly. Jesse came toward him, moving swiftly with his swinging blade. Before Ed could react, the point of Jesse's sword licked toward his gut, and he could not move fast enough to block it. Jesse was in control, however. Before the blade made contact, it was pulled back, and with a quick overhead swing, the edge of the blade swung toward Ed's neck, stopping just short of decapitating the gym owner.

Ed stood stock still, panting, not daring to move with Jesse's sword kissing his neck. Jesse stood just as still, chest heaving with exertion, eyes locked onto Ed's.

"So, Jesse," Ed ventured, his voice hoarse and shaky, "what now?"

Jesse carefully moved the sword away from Ed's neck and let the point sag toward the floor.

"Did I hurt you?" Jesse's voice was weak.

Ed looked down at himself, surprised to find that there was indeed blood on his clothes. He had been so intent on the fight, he had missed when Jesse's blade had made it through his defenses. He had three cuts on his arms and one across his cheek, all light, all minor.

"Not much. You?"

Jesse looked at his own body. There were two cuts on one of his arms and his shirt was sliced open at his side and there was quite a bit of blood on it.

"I'm okay," Jesse said. Then, taking a deep breath, he turned away.

"Are you sure? That cut on your side looks like it bled a lot."

Jesse just shook his head without looking back.

"Hey, just you wait a minute!" Ed called to him.

Jesse turned back to Ed wearily. "What?"

"Just what the hell happened here tonight?"

"We had a bout, same as always."

"Oh, no, this was not the same as always. You came after me like you never have before. I was afraid for my life!"

"As you should have been, Ed. I told you, I wanted a sparring partner who would fight as if his life depended on it."

"I have been, but I've never been afraid before tonight."

Jesse came back to Ed and stood very close to him. There was a line of blood on Jesse's forehead that Ed had not noticed before, but there was no wound. It was probably Ed's blood. Ed forgot all about the blood when he saw Jesse's cold eyes.

"You should be afraid, Ed. Every time we spar you should be afraid. That's what it means to fight for your life. You could die, Ed. As could I."

His shoulders suddenly slumping, Jesse turned away. He had only gotten a few steps when he stopped again. "Oh, by the way," he said, "I'd like it if all our bouts ended that way."

"Which way?"

"Instead of just the feint to the fatal body part, the feint followed by the swing to the neck, like I did before."

Ed's mouth tightened. "That's very different for me. Although I see that it's pretty practiced for you. I'll need some time with that."

Jesse nodded. "We'll practice it."

He turned back on his way to the shower, leaving Ed still gripping the hilt of his sword as if he were about to be attacked. Ed's eyes dropped to the bloody blade, proof that the incident really happened, and he drew a deep shuddering breath. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

After that night, Methos starting pushing Ed more and more during their bouts, being harder and harder on him. Previously, Methos had been holding back with Ed and had been trying to figure out a way to make the bouts more aggressive and dangerous. It had been an accident, but Methos had finally found the way. Sometimes accidents can lead to positive results and that night had been an accident.

Methos had been late getting to the gym because someone, another immortal, was hunting him. He had covered most of Pittsburgh getting away from the immortal, finally ending up on the city's tiny subway system and heading downtown. He finally lost the "presence" in the subway system and he ran the rest of the way to the gym.

He had fought with Ed Lacey while being angry with another immortal, something he should not have done, but the fight had started before he was aware he had started it and Ed had been forced to defend himself against a very real danger. He had done it very well, too. By the time Methos was able to end the bout, he was no longer angry and had no trouble holding back and not really hurting, or killing, Ed. Methos was not sure where the swing at the neck came from, most likely from what had precipitated his flight through Pittsburgh, but it felt good, and it felt right.

He knew that Ed was frightened of him now, but that was okay, too, especially if he fought as well as he had that night. Ed had no idea, but if he, Methos, had been mortal, he might very well have died from the wound on his side Ed had inflicted. When the gym owner sliced through his shirt, he sliced through a number of vital organs, including a kidney. The only reason Methos was able to stand after that blow was because he was filled with bloodlust, and the only reason he survived was because he was immortal.

His main problem now was the immortal hunting him through Pittsburgh. He had to find out who the immortal was and end the hunt. In the past, Methos would have had to hunt that immortal down to find out who he or she was, but Methos was a Watcher again. That meant that he had resources he had been without for over a hundred years. It was time to do some research.

There was no way that Methos could have told Michael, or anyone, that he was not really a researcher for a large book publisher since that story was a cover. Yes, he was a researcher, but he worked for a secret organization of men and women whose lives were spent chronicling the lives and deaths of immortals--like Methos. Methos, under the name of Jesse Williams, was a Watcher.

Methos, as Adam Pierson, mild-mannered researcher, had been part of the Watcher organization for over 10 years back in the late 1900's. It was the perfect cover for an immortal, especially one who kept close to books and libraries and stayed out of the field. The mortal Watchers didn't know he was immortal, and he was able to keep out of the way of other immortals, thereby staying out of the Game, and staying alive.

When he had to leave the organization in 1997, it took him a while to get back into the swing of living without knowing exactly which immortal was where. It was a bit unnerving, but he was able to do it, of course.

In the 2090's, a hundred years later, he felt that it was safe to get back into the Watchers. He hacked into their computer system to make sure that no visual images of Adam Pierson survived. He deleted the few he found while leaving the text references. Adam Pierson had a history with the Watchers and it should remain intact. Methos, a long-time historian, hated to get rid of any history if it wasn't necessary.

He got himself recruited into the Watchers by "happening upon" a fight between two immortals. When he hacked into the database, he made note of where the closest immortals were and who was Watching them. Then he followed the Watcher. When the Watcher's immortal challenged another immortal, Methos made sure he was in the vicinity. He stayed out of sensing range of the immortals but kept the Watcher he was watching in sight.

After the fight, he threw himself into the path of the Watcher he had been following, seemingly in shock, stuttering and babbling about the brutal death and the weird lightning storm he had just witnessed. The Watcher quickly got him off the streets and took him in hand. Within a few days, Jesse Williams began his training to become a Watcher and was soon back in the beloved libraries Adam Pierson had left almost 100 years before.

After meeting Michael Forrest, Methos held to his cover story, it fit so well. As a researcher in the Watchers, Methos had to travel quite a bit, so the cover of a researcher for large book publisher helped explain the necessity of frequent travel.

The affair with Michael was going on its sporadic way, neither growing more serious nor easing off. Methos found Michael a comfortable, familiar presence when he returned from his trips, but Methos tried to deny the fact that there was more to it than comfort or familiarity. He was inexplicably drawn to the skinny DJ. He could not get him out of his mind, and the strange attraction showed no signs of going away.

What was even more confusing was that although it was obvious that Michael was as wrapped up in the affair as was Methos, he showed no signs of pushing for the relationship to go to the next level.

The conversations between them were casual and the dates lighthearted, but their lovemaking was intense and overwhelming. At those times, they became lost in each other. Every so often, Methos wondered if they kept their conversations so light because they were both afraid to deal with the intensity of the more intimate side of their relationship. They were both working very hard not to fall in love, and considering everything, Methos thought that was the best course of action.

Robert watched Michael pack up the records at the end of his set. He had come in the middle of the night, curious to see if Michael's lover, Jesse, was there. He wasn't, again. It was the third week in a row. The last time Jesse was gone for a month, Robert had asked Michael about it.

"Hey, what gives? He's here just about every night, then he disappears for a week, sometimes two, now he's been gone a month."

"I told you, Robert," Michael had retorted, "it's his job. He's doing research for another book for his company. He's somewhere in the Midwest. It's why he's in Pittsburgh. It gives him easy access to the middle of the country so he can drive where he has to go."

At that time, Robert only shook his head. Now, watching Michael pack up the booth, Robert took the opportunity to approach the DJ.

"Hey, Michael?"

Hearing his name, Michael looked up. "Hey, Robert. What's up?"

"You free? You want to go for some breakfast? My treat."

"Sure, I'd love to. But you don't have to treat."

"I'd like to."

Michael shrugged and turned back to the records he was putting away. "Okay."

Robert leaned against the booth to wait. He was not quite sure where this was going to lead, if anywhere, but he intended to get close to Michael, to be his best friend. He had a bad feeling about this vague, tenuous relationship between Michael and Jesse, and he wanted to be around in case Michael needed him.

That was how it started between Michael and Robert. Robert couldn't help but worry about Michael. He had watched Michael with the odd stranger for a few months, and now, Robert was determined to see as much of Michael as he could during those long periods when Jesse was out of town. Robert knew without being told that when Jesse was in town, he wouldn't get to see Michael. Michael wanted to be with Jesse so Robert made himself scarce, but as soon as Jesse was gone more than a week, Robert asked Michael out.

He kept it casual and friendly: a bite after work, a drink before, a vid or a 3-D on Michael's day off. Sometimes he paid for Michael, sometimes he didn't, depending on Michael's mood. If Michael was feeling Jesse's absence, Robert wouldn't pay. It made Michael too defensive.

Robert also kept the conversations casual, talking about mutual friends, music, and the changing face of Pittsburgh. Even if they had plans, however, and Jesse happened to show up at the club, Robert just left. With a friendly wave to Jesse and a "See ya later" to Michael, Robert was outta there because with Jesse back, there was no way Michael would be going anywhere with Robert.

The only question Robert was dying to ask was how Michael felt about Jesse. He would swear that Michael was in love with the pale stranger, but Michael never spoke about Jesse or their relationship, and he never let on how important Jesse was to him.

Things went on like this for over a year. Robert probably would never have asked the question that was bothering him if Jesse didn't give him the opportunity.

Robert finally felt comfortable enough to ask the question one night when he and Michael were out to dinner. It was Michael's night off and Robert wanted to take him out someplace nice. He was surprised when Michael said yes, until he remembered that it was almost two months since Jesse left to go on his last assignment.

They had ordered and were eating their appetizers when Robert gathered his courage to do something he never did: ask a question about Jesse.

"So, Mike, when do you think Jesse will be back?"

Michael shrugged, seemingly very unconcerned. "I have no idea. He's never been gone this long, but he did say that some of his assignments could take months."

"You know," Robert said slowly, "you've never told me how you feel about him. I know you must like him. Whenever he's in town you spend all your time with him, but are you in love with him?"

Michael looked startled. "I've never told you how I feel about him?"

"You never even talk about him."

Frowning thoughtfully at his plate, Michael mused: "I've never thought about it."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is: I've never talked about him, or told you how I feel because I've never thought about it."

Robert regarded Michael for a moment before he spoke. "You mean," he said carefully, "you've never thought about how you feel about him."

"Yep."

"So you don't know how you feel. You don't know if you're in love with him."

"Oh, I know I'm not in love with him," Michael said quickly. He stopped as if listening to the echo of the words he had spoken so quickly. "I am not in love with him," he repeated definitely.

"Okay," Robert retorted, not believing a word Michael had said, "but do you love him at all?"

"I must," Michael answered slowly. "I love being with him. When he's here I don't want to do anything else but be with him, and when he's not here, I think about him and I worry about him all the time."

"You worryabout him?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?"

"Well, he just doesn't look like the type who needs anyone worrying about him. One thing I have to say about him is that he sure seems to know how to take care of himself."

"Well, yeah, I guess. But sometimes he seems so young and so lonely." He shrugged. "I feel like I have to take care of him."

"Does he take care of you?"

Michael smiled wickedly. "He sure does!"

Robert rolled his eyes. "The last thing I want to hear about is your sex life!"

"What sex life?" Michael grumbled. He toyed with the food left on his plate then pushed the plate away. "He's been gone so long, and I don't know when he's coming back, or even if he iscoming back."

Robert's mouth tightened at the fear and anxiety in Michael's voice. "Look," he said quickly, forcing brightness into his voice, "what about his apartment? How much stuff has he taken?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"Wait a minute. What do you mean, you don't know. Don't you go there?"

"Sure, but only when Jesse's in town."

"Why don't you go when he's not around?"

"I don't have a key. I can't get in."

Robert's eyes widened incredulously. "You don't have a key?"

Michael shook his head.

"Why not?"

"He never gave me one."

"Well, that's obvious! Does he have a key to your place?"

"Yeah."

"And you don't see this as a problem?"

Michael fiddled with his napkin. "We talked about it. I wondered why and he said that he has so much stuff in there that has to do with his job, that he'd be nervous about something getting lost or seen. Apparently he works on a lot of confidential material."

"And you bought that?"

"Sure!" Michael retorted angrily. "Why not?"

Robert held up his hands. "Hey, let's not fight," he said soothingly. "It was just a question. I should have found a better way to phrase it."

There was a long silence between them. When the entrees were served, they ate in silence for a while.

When they were almost finished, Robert suddenly put his fork down.

"Look, Mike, I'm sorry I got you upset. I don't mean to pry, but I just get worried, and I worry about you."

Michael waved a hand dismissively. "No, I'm sorry. You're right, of course. It's a double standard. He knows where I am all the time, but I never know where he is. He can leave whenever he wants, but I never know when he's coming back. He's secretive about his work and his travels. He never talks about what he does for a living, and now he's been gone for almost two months. When is he coming back, Robert?"

"I don't know, Michael." Reaching across the table, Robert took one of Michael's hands in his. "I'm sorry I can't tell you that, but I can tell you that I'll always be here for you. Always."

Michael squeezed Robert's hand gratefully. "You've made that very clear these past months. I can't tell you how much it means to me."

The two men smiled at each other. Slowly the smiles faded the longer they held each other's eyes. There was a sudden mood shift at the table and the palm of Robert's hand started sweating. Feeling his heart picking up pace, Robert swallowed convulsively and, seeing that, Michael's deep blue eyes softened. He shifted his hand in Robert's and laced their fingers together. Robert gripped Michael's hand tightly and closed his eyes as realization washed over him. It would happen. Maybe not tonight, but soon. If Jesse didn't come back anytime soon, it would definitely happen.

He would get his chance with Michael.

Quite a while later, Michael was at a party when he ran across an old friend of his. He and Ed Lacey had become friends when Ed was doing stunts in a movie and Michael was acting as a music consultant for the Musical Director. It was an odd friendship, because of the large age difference and the extreme differences in their work, but they got along in a way that spoke of the small-town feel of the city of Pittsburgh.

The reunion at this party was a happy one.

"How's it going, Mike?"

"I'm okay, Ed. You?"

"Hanging in. I miss your friend, though, but I guess you must be okay. I hear you have a new boyfriend."

"Yeah," Michael replied slowly, "Robert. We've only been together a few months."

"You gonna move in together?"

Michael shrugged. It was the same question Robert had been asking the past few weeks. He gave Ed the same answer. "I don't know. I want to take this one slow."

"Can't blame you for that. Jesse is a tough act to follow."

Michael frowned, surprised. "You know Jesse?"

It was Ed's turn to frown. "Sure. He used to work out at my gym. In fact, when I found out that you two were together, I thought you had referred him to me."

"No, it wasn't me," Michael said. He shook his head, still flabbergasted. "How did you find out we were together?"

"Well, it's very odd the way it happened. I'm sure you know he didn't tell me about you guys."

"I'm sure. Jesse does not talk about himself very much."

"Doesn't talk about himself at all is more like it. Anyway, he was a late client. He'd come in very late, when nobody was there, and we'd practice with swords."

"Swords?"

"Yeah." Ed chuckled. "He was a strange one. He came to the gym to practice with swords, but I don't know why he wanted to practice with me. He was so much better then I could ever hope to be. But I guess working at it is what keeps your edge up."

Michael rubbed his eyes. This story was unbelievable. "Go on, Ed."

"Well, anyway, one day I was out with my wife and I saw him and pointed him out to her. There's my late client, I told her. I wanted her to see him because every so often, she'd think that I was seeing another woman on the side. She laughed and said, Oh, stop. That's not your new client. You're just showing me Michael's boyfriend. What? I said. Whose boyfriend? Michael Forrest, she said. He's Michael Forrest's lover. I don't know how serious it is. They're both involved in that retro-disco craze. We all saw them at breakfast that time I asked you to come with us but you said you couldn't because you had been up late with your new client. Now if he was really your client, how come you were too tired to have breakfast with us and he wasn't too tired to have breakfast with Michael?"

"Oh, jeez," Michael broke in, "I remember that. I saw your wife with some of her friends in the restaurant but I didn't speak to them. I didn't want to--"

"Hey, I understand, son."

"What did you say when your wife said that?"

"I told her to look at the difference in our age. I told her that he was just a bit younger than me."

Michael shook his head, trying to get rid of the feeling of unreality that had turned his bones to ice. "I can't believe this," he said. "Jesse was working out with you, with swords? Why?"

"Don't ask me. I sure didn't ask him. He was willing to sign papers and pay a lot more, so I went with it. It was good for me, too. Kept me young and vital, not to mention keeping me on my toes. Whatever happened to him?"

"I have no idea. He left to go on a business trip. That was almost a year ago. I haven't seen him since. I was not about to wait anymore, so when Robert came along--"

Ed nodded and patted the younger man on the shoulder. "You gotta do what you gotta do, son. I miss him, too, but I'm trying to stay young and vital without him. Say, you should come by sometime. A good workout is good for everyone, and my gym runs the gamut!

"So I see!"

"Hey, listen, son. Don't tell anyone about the sword thing. The way we were practicing goes a little outside what I should have been doing as the owner of a public facility."

Michael smiled a bit. "You never learn, do you, Ed? Always going just outside the rules."

Ed shrugged sheepishly.

"Well, don't worry," Michael continued. "Your secret is safe with me. No one will know."

"Thanks, kid. Say, if you ever talk to him again, give him my regards."

"I will, if I ever see him again."

"Well, good luck to you and Robert."

"Thanks."

Michael never told Robert about the conversation with Ed Lacey. Jesse Williams was always a specter over their lives. He was like the third person in their bed and Robert didn't need to know that people were talking about their love life behind his back. He was in too much of a hurry as it was to make the relationship permanent, especially with Jesse gone and out of the picture.

Famous last words.

Less than a month after that conversation with Ed Lacey, Jesse Williams blew back into town. The only reason why Jesse didn't show up at the club was because Michael was not working that night, so he showed up at Michael's apartment.

There was instant awkwardness when Robert answered the door.

"Hey, Robert," Jesse said his voice bright and full of surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Robert stared in disbelief at the ghost in the doorway. "Trying to move in here," he answered abruptly, his reaction fueled by fear and surprise. Jesse was back. What did this mean for Robert's and Michael's fragile relationship?

Jesse's eyes narrowed with confusion. "I don't get it."

"Who is it, Robert?" Michael called as he walked into the foyer, dishtowel in hand.

Michael's eyes and mouth flew open with surprise as Robert answered needlessly: "It's Jesse. I guess he's back."

"Jesse! What--I don't--what the--?" Michael finally stopped trying to stammer a question out. He simply waved a hand, wordlessly telling Jesse to come in.

Jesse obliged, and the two men hugged. Robert closed the door quietly. He debated just walking out as he usually did when Jesse showed up. Old habits die hard, but this time it was different. Before, when Jesse showed up, Michael was still waiting for him, but now, Jesse had been gone for a over a year and Michael was Robert's lover. Robert refused to give this up without a fight. So he shut the door and waited.

"So, what are you doing here?" Michael was able to ask coherently.

"Well, I'm back. The assignment is over and now I'm waiting for the next one."

"Where are you staying? You lost your apartment, did you know?"

"Yeah, I had some people from the organization come and clear my stuff out. It's in storage at the company until I figure out how long I'm staying. I thought I'd crash here until that's all worked out."

"I don't think that's possible." It was Robert who answered.

Jesse turned toward Robert, lifting an eyebrow at the coldness in the blond's voice.

"Come on, Robert, he's an old friend, that's all. I can't turn him away."

Jesse looked at the two men. "What's going on?"

Michael sighed and moved his hands helplessly for a moment. "Robert and I are lovers, Jesse," he explained quietly. "You were gone, I had no idea when or if you were coming back, so--" his voice trailed off.

"Lovers--" Jesse was obviously stunned by the news.

"Listen, Jesse, it's been over a year!"

Jesse shook his head quickly. "No need to explain yourself, Michael. Really." He took a deep breath. "It's what I get for staying out of touch for so long." He looked at the two of them again. "So you both live here?"

"No, no, we don't live together. It's been too soon. So you can stay here, Jesse, that would be fine."

Robert's mouth tightened and he turned away, heading for the living room.

Jesse watched him go thoughtfully. "Thanks, Michael," he answered slowly, "I appreciate it. It's late and would be difficult to get a place."

"Okay, it's settled then. I'm making some dinner. Have you eaten?"

Jesse shook his head.

"Fine. Have a seat. I'll finish up."

Jesse went into the living room and sat near a very sullen-looking Robert.

Robert ignored him, but Jesse finally spoke. "You don't think this arrangement is fine, do you?"

Robert shook his head.

"Why not?"

Robert shook has head again, not answering.

Jesse narrowed his eyes thoughtfully as he chewed his bottom lip. He tried a different tack. "Why don't you live together?"

"Because of you," Robert answered shortly.

"Me? I wasn't even here!"

"Doesn't matter. You're always here. I've been asking Mike for months if we can move in together. First it was too soon, we had to get to know each other better, then it was something else, and then something after that. But I knew the real reason."

"Which was?" Jesse prompted when Robert stopped speaking.

"He was still waiting for you. No matter what he said, or thought he believed, he was waiting for you. So now, here you are, and you'll be staying with him, so, I guarantee it, I'll soon be out of the picture."

"You're talking as if he were in love with me," Jesse said carefully.

Robert finally looked over at Jesse. "He is."

Jesse sat back in his chair. "No, he's not."

Robert laughed bitterly. "You think you know so much. Yes, he is. From the first moment he met you. I had no chance. Nobody had a chance with him since he met you. He, of course, has no idea. He thinks he's just infatuated with your 'mystery.' That's how he puts it, your 'mystery,' and believes there's nothing else. But I know better."

Jesse sat forward again, elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. After a moment, he rubbed his temples and, with a quick glance over his shoulder at the kitchen, leaned toward Robert and spoke quickly and quietly.

"Okay, here's what you're going to do. You are going to suggest that I go to your place for the duration and you'll come here. This way, I won't be in the way, and, even more importantly, I'll have a place of my own until the organization lets me know what's what."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious? If my being here will hurt your relationship, what would your being here do for it?"

Robert frowned suspiciously. "I can see the benefit in it for me, Jesse, but I can't see the benefit in it for you. So, why?"

Jesse sat back, his face growing cold and his voice colder. "Doesn't matter. Now make that suggestion before it's too late."

"I still don't under--"

"Robert!"

The single word came out as an order, and a threat. Putting his brain on hold, Robert went into the kitchen and made the suggestion.

"I don't know how he'll feel, Robert, spending his visit in a stranger's house."

"So why don't you ask him, Mike? I'll go by whatever he decides."

With a sigh, Michael went back into the living room with a beer for Jesse.

"Ah, a beer. Thanks, Michael."

"Listen, Jesse," Michael started hesitantly, "Robert made a suggestion. I don't know how you're gonna feel about it, we'll go with whatever you're more comfortable with."

"What is it?"

"Well, Robert thought that you might be more comfortable at his place. He'll stay here for however long you're in town or until you find a place, and you'll stay at his place."

Jesse stood up. "I think it's an excellent idea, Robert. This way, I can be out of the way, and I can have a place of my own. I think it's great. I have my car. Do you want to do this now?"

"What about dinner?"

Jesse looked at Michael and smiled. "I'm fine, really. I'll get something on the way. You finish cooking and Robert and I can go over there. He can show me the place, get what he needs and by the time he's back, dinner will be ready."

Michael looked at Robert, who was looking at the floor, and then at Jesse, who was watching him expectantly. Michael had the distinct feeling that something was up.

"How's that with you, Robert?"

"Sounds good. I can be back in a hot minute."

"All right," Michael said, turning back for the kitchen, still unsure. "But both of you drive carefully."

"We will," they replied in unison. Michael turned back, but they were both the picture of youthful innocence.

At Robert's apartment, Jesse already had the extra keys and he watched as Robert quickly threw some stuff into a bag.

"I'll be out most of tomorrow," Jesse said, "so don't worry about coming back for more stuff."

Robert nodded. He was starting to get toiletries together. Finally closing the bag, he looked up at Jesse and asked again: "Why, Jesse?"

Jesse smiled tightly, hesitating for only a moment. "It's for the best, and you know it. You're better for him. I'm no good for him."

Robert's eyebrows climbed with surprise at Jesse's unflinching honesty. "I believe you!"

"You should," Jesse answered shortly, turning away. "It's the truth."

"Listen, I want to thank you for this. I don't think he would even consider moving in with me if you hadn't--"

"Doesn't matter," Jesse interrupted. "Look, I've got the hang of the apartment. Thanks for letting me use it. If I have any questions, I'll call."

Robert nodded. He started to say something else, but Jesse had already disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door. Robert shook his head and left.

Suddenly, all the questions went out of Robert's head. He was eager to start on his new life with Michael. They had spent many nights together and had woken up with each other, but they will be doing that every night and every day for who knows how long. Robert couldn't wait to get started.