Eyes 2

[maderr]

Ki-chan, feel free to correct if you like. I'll fix'em, I was just too tired and frustrated to go through another round of editing right now. You're the best ^_~

*~*~*~*

"Fire him," Cameron said, hands splayed on Sullivan's desk. "The bitch is a menace. I can't go anywhere in this house without tripping over him and his latest disaster."

Sullivan didn't look up from the contract he was looking over. "You could try to get along with him, Cam. That alone would kill half the mayhem he creates around this place." He looked up, eyes frosty. "Or did you conveniently forget that you started the fiasco in the garden?"

"That's another thing," Cameron said. "What sort of tech goes outside to play in the garden? He's always been an oddball, but lately he's been a few bullets short of a full clip. My suggestion? Fuck him and then off him."

Grimacing, Sullivan shoved his paperwork aside and leaned back in his chair. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Cam, but I'm relatively certain that I am the boss and you are the subordinate."

"Correct me if I’m wrong boss, but lately you've spent more time panting after that little bitch than you have putting him in his place."

Sullivan stood, voice taking on a hard edge as he leaned close to his secretary. "He does his job, he does it well. And if you ever again state that I'm not doing my job for want of a fuck, Cam, you'll find yourself out on the streets begging for a fuck. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Cameron spat. "But that still won't change the fact that it's true. You look at him like you would a Christmas present. Is it because he reminds you of a certain someone?"

"You're on thin ice, Cam."

"Story of my goddamned life." Cameron pushed away from the desk, folding his arms across his chest. "It doesn’t take a goddamn genius to figure out why you're so fond of him - at least for those of us who remember what the late Azura was like as a kid. But just remember this, Sully - if he's like Curtis in one way, he could be like him in others."

Sullivan gripped his cane. "I hired you to be my secretary, Cam. Not my goddamned parent. I am well aware of why I was initially fond of him. And I don't need you reminding me as to how complex people can be. But I will remind you that one rule I do not bend is mixing business with pleasure. Tybalt works for me, that's the end of the matter. Will that suffice, mother? Or do I need to remind as to why I don't break that rule?"

"No, sir." Cameron said tightly.

"Then get the fuck out of here and get back to doing what I pay you for." Sullivan sighed as he watched his secretary walk away. "I appreciate the concern, Cam. But I assure you I'm not going to fuck anything up."

Cameron shrugged, "He drives us all insane, Sully." He grimaced, obviously not liking what he was about to say. "But he also makes you smile a lot. Just tell him to chill the fuck out and stay away from me. Though I'm serious about him not showing all his cards. You've been hurt twice, I don't want to see number three."

Before Sullivan could reply, they were interrupted by the slamming open of his door.

"Found something of yours, boss." Ron threw a dazed looking Tybalt to the floor, toeing him over so that he lay on his back. "He was snooping around the yards."

Sullivan frowned, grabbing his cane and moving around the desk as Tybalt slowly picked himself up. "Tybalt…what were you doing at the shipping yards?"

Tybalt made a face. "Working."

"Working?" Cameron jerked his head in a sharp negation. "I don't think so. Your job is the house. You've got nothing to do with the yards."

"Look," Tybalt snapped. "I was working. Just because you don't know what that looks like don't mean I ain't doing it."

Ron shook his head, disagreeing. "You weren't working. I know a sneak-thief when I see one - especially a lousy one."

"The only lousy thing about me," Tybalt suddenly didn't seem very dazed anymore. His voice was hard. "Is that I didn't shoot you when I should have. But that's more stupid than lousy, really."

Dead silence fell, and Sullivan suddenly felt cold.

"So the little bitch finally plays his hand. I knew you were a backstabber."

Tybalt laughed, and the sound of it was frigid. Unlike Tybalt - or at least the Tybalt Sullivan had talked to at breakfast that morning. Cameron's words of just minutes ago echoed painfully in his head. "On the contrary, bitch. I'm on the level, pristine and fucking sparkly clean. You, however, had better have some good explanations."

"Explanations for what?" Ron asked, hand going to his gun before Sullivan motioned him off with a shake of the head. "Why I haven't already laid you out with a hole to the head?"

Tybalt sneered, "You're aim ain't that good. As for explanations, you can start with laying out why you've been chatting with Bella."

"Bella? Who's Bella?"

Sullivan felt sick and closed his eyes. "Bella is a known contact for the Emperor." He opened his eyes, and his gaze was steel as he looked at his foreman and long time friend. "Somebody in this room is a traitor, and if things aren't cleared up right now I will kill you all and destroy the bodies myself."

Ron gaped at him, looking hurt and offended. "Boss, you can't tell me you're believing that sneaky little bitch over me? How the fuck does he even know who this Bella is?"

"Bella. Real name Katy Andrews. Used to be a hooker until she played her cards right. Liaison for the Emperor, in communication with an insider at the Sterling Shipping Yard." And suddenly Tybalt was holding a gun; Sullivan hadn't seen him pull it. Tybalt lifted his free hand to touch his ear, speaking to thin air. "Mick. Here. Now."

Sullivan was having trouble comprehending what was going on. He'd been in messes worse than this - so why did it feel like he was drowning?

And who was the stranger that looked like Tybalt?

"Don't fire!" he snapped, as Cam and Ron were about to do just that. "This is a fine stalemate. I want all guns put down."

"Ain't gonna happen, Liv." Tybalt spoke to Sullivan but didn't take his eyes off Ron. "I was paid to protect you and even though I've fucked up quite nicely, I'm still going to try to do that."

Sullivan cursed. "You're the bodyguard?" Why had that never occurred to him? But Sully knew - he'd been too distracted and Tybalt had never given any indication of being more than what he'd said he was.

Tybalt's answer was drowned out by the sound of a gunshot and shattering glass…and Ron's body as the foreman dropped to the ground, dead.

"Ron!"

"Drop it, sourpuss." Mickey said from the window. "I mean it, Cam. Drop it or I'll make you."

Cameron dropped his gun. "What the fuck is going on here?"

Tybalt looked at Sullivan, then tore his gaze away. He glared at Mickey.

Mickey glared back. "Trouble in Denmark?"

"Wrong play, asshole."

"Don't snap at me. You're the one that fucked up hardcore. What the hell were you doing at the yard?"

Tybalt's lips were pinched, eyes dark. "Double checking."

"Double checking?" Mickey echoed, shouting. "Since when did you turn that goddamned fucking stupid, Tyb? You don't second-guess yourself. Never!" He reached out and grabbed Tybalt's tank top, shaking him hard and then throwing him to the ground. "At least you don't when you're thinking with the right mind. Fucking bloody hell, Tyb. You almost got him killed!"

"I know!" Tybalt shouted. "I don't need you to fucking remind me, Mick! And it'll be a cold goddamned day in hell before I take a lecture from you on which head to think with." Breathing heavily with anger

Sullivan slammed his cane down on his desk, trembling with grief and anger. "Somebody had better explain to me right now what in the fuck is going on here. Who are you, Tybalt? And why is one of my oldest friends dead?"

Silence fell, and Tybalt turned away, looking everywhere except at Sullivan.

Mickey shot his friend an angry look and then turned to Sullivan. "May I introduce you to Tybalt Capulet, Azura's best and most highly prized bodyguard for hire. Although after this fuck up he's probably going back to the bottom of the list."

"Shut up, Mick. Just shut up. I've got a long way to go before I match you for fuck ups."

"Maybe so," Mickey said. "But my fuck ups don't get people killed."

Tybalt ignored him, finally facing Sullivan. Behind them, Mickey motioned Cameron from the room - and knocked him out when Cameron turned his back, shoving his unconscious form into a corner. "There," he murmured quietly. "That should get him out of our hair - even if I never hear the end of it later." Casting one eye toward the other two, Mickey then proceeded to move Ron's body out of the room. When he came back, he helped himself first to a bourbon and then to Sullivan's chair at the desk.

"I'm sorry," Tybalt said, looking Sullivan in the eyes. "If I'd done my goddamned job instead of waffling, it wouldn't have come to this."

"Come to what?"

Tybalt looked away, miserable.

Mickey took pity on him. "Ron was working with Bella to off you, Sully. Pierre had been a part of it, but he was just the part that got caught. Tybalt should have taken care of both of them yesterday, when he confirmed that Ron was the Emperor's insider here. He's pretty damn good at playing jolly old blockhead, it took us until yesterday to figure out he's your double-crosser."

"Why?"

Mickey gave a derisive snort. "Let's just say the Emperor is good at making pretty offers. I'm sure Ron had his own petty little reasons. Pardon my disrespecting the dead."

"I always forget how cold you can be, Mickey." Sullivan eyed the man sitting casually in his chair.

"What do you want from me? My mother was a whore, my father loved taking all the wrong kinds of pictures. I'm good at fucking and spying." He grinned. "Though I admit a preference for the former. The latter just pays the bills."

Sullivan sighed and cast his eyes back toward Tybalt. "Why didn't you kill him when you were supposed to?"

"I…" Tybalt closed his eyes, the picture of misery. He holstered it a moment later, and finally looked back up into Sullivan's eyes. "He was your friend; I kept hoping to learn I was wrong."

Mickey started laughing.

"It's not funny, asshole." Tybalt hand twitched, and he barely kept from pulling his gun back out.

"No, it's not. Except that it is." Mickey downed the last of his bourbon and stood. "The mighty Icicle thaws at last. What is it you're always preaching, Romeo?" Mickey tapped his chin, pretending to think, grinning as Tybalt's face turned red - though from anger or embarrassment, it was hard to tell. "Oh, yeah!" He snapped his fingers. "A bodyguard is only as good as his detachment."

The look Tybalt gave him was nothing short of murderous. "I know, all right? I fucking get it." Pulling his gun out once more, Tybalt made for the door that led to the hallway. "I'm going to go check things out. Everyone and his brother must have heard that gunshot and I'm certain some of the Emperor's men are still lurking about."

Sullivan shook his head, something that had been nagging at him finally coming together. "What in the hell does the Emperor have to do with any of this?"

"He's the one who dipped his hand into the Azura cookie jar and stole a Pierre cookie. Pierre turned around and stole Ron. When Pierre was offed, the Emperor maintained the connection with Ron." Mickey smirked. "We would have told you sooner, but we didn't know how many more of your men were in on it - though for what it's worth, Trick never once doubted you."

Sullivan's hands shook. "I feel like a fool."

"Well, in your defense, you were supposed to not know. Sterlings don't turn traitor, so the best way around that was to make you oblivious and then off you. They would have done it sooner, except that a certain little sex kitten has been watching your back hardcore - even had me working the fucking perimeter."

"Mickey!" Tybalt snapped. "Shut up."

Mickey grinned, "

"Can I trust you to watch him and keep him alive?"

"Where the fuck do you get off asking if you can trust me?"

Tybalt paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Trust me, Mick. Nothing about you gets me off."

"Yeah, I'm a little too young for you I guess."

"MICKEY!"

"Okay, okay. Get. No one goes in or out, except over my dead body."

"And wouldn't that be a mercy to the world?" Tybalt muttered. He cast one last glance at Sullivan, though he didn't quite meet his eyes. "Ignore everything he says." Then he was gone.

Mickey started laughing as the door closed behind him.

"Are you always that mean to him, Mickey? And how long have you two known each other?"

"Always. And we grew up together, sort of." Mickey shrugged. "I was busy picking up the snooping business, Tybalt was taught how to be a cold bastard - I mean bodyguard."

"Taught?"

Mickey shrugged again. "It's the family business, sort of. Tybalt's family has a hell of a debt to pay off. They pay it with pounds of flesh, so to speak. Lucky for them, the Azura isn't too fond of whorehouses." He grinned, shedding his somber mood as if it were nothing. "Not that Mr. Cool Cucumber ever complained. I wasn’t kidding when I said he's the best in the business. Trick charges $2000.00 a day for his services, minimum. Someone like you? Easily double or triple that. At least until he fucked up. But Tyb had it coming to him."

"Coming to him?"

"Oh, yes." Mickey hopped up to sit on the edge of Sullivan's desk. "I almost feel sorry for him. He always stood hardcore by that whole 'a bodyguard is only as good as his detachment' spiel. And you're supposed to be ignoring everything I say."

"I am." Sullivan managed a weak grin.

Mickey grinned back. "Have I mentioned I like you, Sully? You have my full endorsement to molest Tyb. Anyway - bodyguard. Detachment. Tybalt could give a snowman lessons on being cold. I'm not kidding. Probably hard to believe what with his 'I'm a loud, obnoxious, sexy little computer geek' thing, but he's usually a regular Frosty. He's good at what he does - I guess you'd have to be to work for Azura. He's been doing it solo since he was eighteen and hasn't fucked up once - not even the time this chick he was watching kept crawling into his bed naked. But damn - you so much as look at him and it's all he can do not to lose focus. I don't know what you do besides walk around looking old school sexy, but it's got him in triple knots."

Sullivan could not think of a single thing to say. At last he laughed. "You really don't think about much beyond sex, do you Mickey?"

"Sully, I inherited all my mother's skill and twice her looks. My world's been colored by sex since before I knew what the word meant. You either learn to hate it or love it. And life is better if you go with the happy side of the coin."

"I see," Sullivan said. "It's no wonder you and Tybalt are such good friends."

"Eh. We both know a lot about isolation. Bodyguards and snoops don't get invited to parties a whole lot, except to work. Tyb and I got close comparing notes and helping each other out."

"I see," Sullivan repeated. His mind ached, trying to reconcile all that he'd seen and heard so far. He was briefly distracted by the body stretched out in the corner. "What did you do to Cam?"

"He felt like taking a nap." Mickey laughed at Sullivan's look. "Okay, okay. I felt like he should take a nap. He's so damn noisy."

Silence fell, as Sullivan forced his thoughts into order. "You'll take care of Ron?"

"Yeah, Sully. And I'm sorry I shot him, but orders are orders and mine were to back up Tyb and see that any threat to you was put down."

Sullivan nodded. "I understand. I'm thirty-seven, I know the business I'm in. I'm not happy about it, but I understand it. What will happen to Tybalt after tonight?"

"We're both leaving. The job is done, and he's got some nasty music to face at HQ."

As if on cue, the door opened to admit an exhausted looking Tybalt. "Three down in the east quadrant."

"I'll call assistance in," Mickey replied. "Now come on, it's time for us to go." He glanced at Sullivan, "Get to your room, we'll take care of everything."

Sullivan nodded. "Tell Trick thank you for me."

"I will. And don't worry, he's already plotting to use you to help clear some rats out."

"Of course."

"Let's move, Tyb."

"I'll meet you outside."

"Ty--"

"Outside!"

"Yeah, yeah." Mickey rolled his eyes. "Make it a quickie, would ya?" He eyed Cameron, slowly waking up on the floor. "I'll just take him to his room first. That should give you a couple of extra minutes."

Tybalt ignored him, though his cheeks were red with embarrassment. He barely noticed as Mickey left, lugging a pissed off Cameron with him.

The room seemed fare too quiet with Mickey out of it.

"I guess the first thing I should say is thank you," Sullivan said at last. "All this time you were watching me. I feel like an idiot, never putting two and two together."

"Don't," Tybalt said tightly. "I'm trained and paid to fool the very best. If you'd figured it out before I fucked up, I really would have been failing at my job."

"That won't stop me from feeling like a fool. And from being severely disappointed that you're the bodyguard."

"Disappointed?" Tybalt's head shot up, hurt in his eyes.

"Yeah," Sullivan said. "After I was safe - relatively, anyway - I was kind of hoping to break one of my own rules and ask a certain tech out to dinner."

Tybalt's cheek went pink, eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"I'm guessing you can't stay?"

"That'd be breaking my contract," Tybalt replied. "Bailing out to stay, as much as I'd love to, would get more than just me in trouble. And without your needing protection, I've no reason to stay."

Sullivan wanted to protest, but as he'd said before to Mickey - he was all too familiar with the world they lived in. Instead he simply held out his hand. Tybalt didn't hesitate, merely placed his own hand in Sullivan's and stepped forward as the other man tugged, wrapping his free arm around Sullivan's neck and meeting him in a kiss that was fervent, heady and urgent.

Tybalt tasted like strawberry candy, and Sullivan remembered the bag of hard candies he'd seen the one night he'd visited Tybalt's workroom. He tasted sweet, of fruit and sugar and the faintest hint of salt.

There was no way he'd be able to look at strawberries ever again and not be reminded of how they tasted in Tybalt's warm mouth, blending with the whiskey Sullivan had been sipping before his night went to hell.

Tybalt broke away, breath ragged, lips wet and well kissed. "Bye, Liv. It was a pleasure." Reluctantly he pulled from Sullivan's embrace and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Sullivan watched him go, standing in his study for several minutes, the taste of strawberry candy on his lips. Finally he forced himself to move, up to his room where a no doubt thoroughly missed Cameron waited to get a full explanation.

*~*~*~*

"Ah, Sully. My favorite person."

Sully reached for his aspirin without bothering to look up from the papers he was skimming - or pretending to, anyway. "What do you want now, Mickey?" He finally forced himself to look up. "You never visit without a reason."

"Jeez, don't look so happy to see me." Mickey rolled his eyes. "I'm an errand boy, not a messenger of death."

Cameron glared at him from where he sat in front of Sullivan's desk. "You'll forgive us if we find that hard to believe," he said acidly. "The Azura's favorite henchman never comes with happy news."

"Show how much you know, baby doll."

"Baby doll?" Cameron repeated, hand wandering near the gun he kept in a shoulder holster beneath his jacket.

"Mmm, yes." Mickey winked. "I bet that's exactly what you are between the sheets, despite that tough boy goatee."

Cameron turned murderous "Why you--"

"Enough," Sullivan said.. "If you two want to debate that, you can settle it out of my office please. While you're in my office, I prefer we stick to business."

"Yeah, yeah." Mickey grabbed the seat beside Cameron's and propped his feet on the edge of Sullivan's desk. "Got a proposition for ya, Sully. From Trick."

Sullivan blinked. "I'm always happy to help, Trick knows that."

"Yeah, well. This is a bit unusual."

"How so?" Sullivan asked slowly, sitting back in his chair and giving up entirely on getting any work done.

"Well, I hear you're having trouble keeping a reliable tech on hand…"

Sullivan reached for more aspirin. "What can I say? They don't measure up."

"I'd imagine not," Mickey said, grin all mischief.

"Shut it, Mickey." Sullivan snapped. "Get to your goddamn point."

"We've got an injured man, rather a valuable one. He needs a place to shack up for a bit, to make a full recovery. A couple of months, maybe three, to give him time to heal and for the ruckus he caused to calm down. In return, he'll keep an eye on your security systems."

"Ruckus?" Sullivan's brows went up. "What sort of ruckus? And why on earth isn't he recuperating at Trick's manor? There really aren't many places safer."

"Details, details, Sullivan. You can ask him yourself. And Trick says you get to deal with him all snarly and pissy because it's your fault he screwed up again anyway."

"My fault…again…" Sullivan stared at Mickey in shock, as comprehension began to dawn. "What happened, is he okay? Where is he?"

Mickey threw his head back and laughed. "He's fine, maybe a little dozey from the pain killers I made him take. He took quite the beating a few days ago. And he's in your bed, like a good boy toy should be. I took the liberty of assuming you'd say yes."

Sullivan was already striding from the room.

Cameron rolled his eyes and stood, helping himself to both Sullivan's forgotten whiskey and his bottle of aspirin. "One of these days, Mickey, you're going to get exactly what you deserve. I can't wait to meet the man or woman that puts you in your place."

"You should stop by the house more often then, baby doll." Mickey didn't blink at the look he was given. "Sam 'puts me in my place' every single time I talk to him. But that don't stop me, just makes me try harder."

A soft snort of disbelief. "If you don't mind, I have work to do. Seeing as no one else around here is going to be getting any done. Christ, I was enjoying the silence while it lasted."

Mickey gave him a considering look. "Maybe you just don't know how to appreciate the noise, baby doll."

"Stay away from me," Cameron said, giving him a warning look. "And quit calling me that absurd name." He turned to go into his own office.

"Make me," Mickey called after him, before getting up to follow Cameron, a grin on his face.





Sullivan paused just inside his bedroom, closing the door quietly shut behind him. Only a lamp by the bed shed any light; someone had pulled his heavy curtains shut, no doubt with the intention of easing the room's other occupant.

His furniture was all soft pine, stained dark. The furniture and fabrics were a range of blues, mostly dark accented with lighter colors. Facing the bed, Sullivan stared at the man stretched out on the left side, eyes closed, back rising slowly as he breathed, hair black and remarkably plain - but no doubt the loud streaks of purple were not something he normally sported.

Tybalt lay on his stomach, head resting on folded arms, bare from the waist up except for bandages wrapped around his arm and stomach. Livid bruises ranged across his arms and back, making Sullivan wince. He frowned and sat beside Tybalt on the very edge of the bed, one had smoothing gently up his back, carefully avoiding the bruises and just brushing over bandages. "What happened to you, Tybalt?

"Hmm…" Tybalt opened his eyes slowly, as if it were hard to do. "What…" he turned onto his side, wincing slightly in pain, staring at the man beside him. His eyes went wide as comprehension dawned, and suddenly he didn't look quite as tired. "Liv!"

Sullivan smiled softly. "You're the only one who call me that."

Tybalt tried to sit up.

"Lay still. You're here to recover."

Cursing softly, Tybalt conceded defeat and lay still. He closed his eyes, "I really fucked up, Liv. Got my ass trashed trying to fix things."

"What happened?"

Tybalt opened his eyes, looking at Sullivan. He laughed weakly, "I was too busy moping over you to focus on my job. I'm lucky Trick didn't just have me put down."

"You're not a dog to be put down." Sullivan reached up to stroke the cheek facing him, the other still pressed against his arms.

"Feels like it sometimes," Tybalt said. "Not here though. I liked it here - even with Cameron." He leaned up just a bit into the hand on his cheek, sighing softly. "Why am I here? I was told to stay away."

Sullivan frowned at that, but he wasn't surprised. "Someday you'll have to tell me why you're more or less enslaved to the Azura."

" It's kind of a boring story, really." Tybalt replied sleepily. "I'll tell you after I kill Mickey for drugging me. The rat bastard knew I'd protest coming here. "

"Why protest?" Sullivan asked, carefully soothing the tense muscles of Tybalt's back.

Tybalt hummed softly, enjoying the gentle touches. "Protest because there's no way I'd leave a second time if I came back." Tybalt opened his eyes again, hesitant and uncertain. "I…I've missed you a lot, Liv. Life hasn't been the same since I met you, and it's sucked lots since I had to leave."

"The house has been empty without you around to wreak havoc," Sullivan replied fondly.

"Was just trying to protect you," Tybalt said, voice growing longer and softer as the medicine began to once more get the better of him.

Sullivan's hand lingered on the tattoo along the back of Tybalt's shoulder, only slightly marred by a small bruise. Two black roses, their stems intertwined.

"A rose by any other name…" Tybalt said. "S'what my mother used to say. Her favorite play."

"Yet she named you after Tybalt?"

A quiet laugh. "She liked the name. And the whole rose thing…"

Sullivan leaned down to press a kiss to the tattoo, "I'm glad you're back, and I'm not letting you leave."

Tybalt smiled and managed to open his eyes again. "Cool. Ugh, I'm going to kill Mickey for drugging me. Where am I, anyway? This isn't my room." He frowned in thought. "This is your room, isn't it? I remember the blues…"

"Yes," Sullivan said with a smile. "Mickey said it was where you belonged."

A soft snort of derision. "I know exactly what Mickey said, and as soon as I'm not drugged up I'm going to shoot him." He struggled to sit up again, this time ignoring Sullivan's protests. Hanging onto Sullivan's shoulders for balance, he leaned forward and gave the older man a sleepy, clumsy kiss on the lips. "Are you busy? Take a nap with me?"

Sullivan smiled and slid a hand up to gently grasp Tybalt's hair, leaning in to give the younger man a proper kiss, tasting medicine and orange juice, and something that only came with kissing Tybalt. "Of course I'll stay."

"Oh, good." Tybalt replied with a sleepy smile, then leaned forward to fall asleep against Sullivan.