Thievesandwhores 1

Chris wasn't just having a bad day. He was having a *terrible* day. First, Justin being picked up by the magistrates, and he'd be paying back favors for weeks. Cold slush from the street had slipped into his boot and his foot was freezing. And now, word that the chimneys in his house had been clogged, one had caught fire, and part of the roof was destroyed. He sighed, shoved his hands deeper into the folds of his cloak, and was so busy thinking miserable thoughts that he almost missed the slim, pale fingers that reached for his money belt with little skill and less subtletly. Chris's own hands were fast and strong and locked around that wrist like a manacle, and Chris dragged the yelping culprit around to stand in front of him.

"It was an accident!" he was sputtering, struggling to get away. As though Chris wouldn't know the different. "Begging your pardon, sir, I was just trying to get by. Just trying to get by..."

Chris snorted, tired of the whole thing already, and held on tighter, feeling the bones grind together under his fingers. The boy was tall, taller than Chris, but gangly, just starting to fill out into manhood. Elegant long bones, too-pretty face, and Chris felt the first stir of interest. He didn't *fit*, and Chris loved puzzles.

"It was no accident." He pitched his voice as low and threatening as he could, shaking the boy by the arm. "Do you know what they do to pickpockets around here, you nasty little thief?"

From the way he paled, he knew exactly what they did. But then, he'd looked kind of pale to begin with, pale and drawn. "No, an accident..." he insisted, but when it became obvious to him that Chris wasn't going to buy it, he backed down. "Please, sir," he said softly. "Please just let me go. It was a mistake. Please, I haven't eaten in a week, I'm not thinking straight..."

Chris eyed him. He believed the not-eating-in-a-week bit; the boy looked like he was meant to be carrying much more weight on those big bones. He mentally revised his age estimate upward, too, when he got a good look into desperate blue eyes. Not a child, then, though far younger than Chris.

"You're a disgrace," he informed the boy crisply, starting to walk towards home without letting go of his wrist. "A terrible, terrible thief, did you know that? In fact, I wouldn't call you a thief at all, more an arrest waiting to happen. Come on, stop dragging your feet. I don't bite, but I will feed you if you stop all that flailing about."

That seemed to stop the boy in his tracks, but only long enough to stumble as Chris dragged him along. "I'm not a thief," he said after a moment, his voice wary. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do. It was just a mistake, I swear, I won't do it again. You don't need to do something t-terrible to me."

"You're damn right you won't do it again," Chris informed him, then softened a little as he realized the boy was truly terrified. "Relax, boy. I'm not turning you in or whisking you off to feed you to the dogs. Someone as inept as yourself...well, let's just say I'm feeling like doing a good deed today. I'll put a hot meal in your belly and send you on your way, as long as you swear to pick no more pockets in this city." He took another step, before adding consideringly, "not that you'd succeed in picking them anyway."

He shook his head rapidly, hair flopping. "No, no, I'm terrible," he agreed quickly. "I d-don't know what I'm doing, I just needed to do something and I couldn't..." Whatever he'd planned to finish with, he cut it off abruptly." Are you... are you really going to feed me?"

"Yes," Chris sighed. Gods save him from puppies and lost boys, but he did indeed plan to feed this one. Memories of other cold nights, without food or warmth or shelter, flickered through his mind, and he knew he'd probably be offering the boy a blanket by the fire, as well. "Supper at least, and perhaps you should consider a new line of work." He towed his young guest up the steps, looked grimly at the soot stains all over his door from the fire, and opened the door. "Come in, come in. I think there's still one working fireplace, at least, and I suggest you find it before you turn any more blue."

He nodded, quickly again, and he looked like he was almost beyond shivering. Chris was curious what kind of person would emerge once he was warm and comfortable, if he ever managed to feel safe. "What happened?" he asked, looked up, reaching his hand up, like he wanted to touch. He was going to get into trouble, with all his touching of things that didn't belong to him.

"Chimney fire," Chris answered shortly, scowling at the blackened ceiling as they headed for the parlor. "I think my chimney sweep's been napping on the job. It's alright, though, only *half* the house is ruined." He rolled his eyes at the boy, who looked like he surprised himself by almost smiling. "Here we are. Sit there. Give me your jacket, no, don't look at me like that. The thing's so filthy it's fit for only burning. I'll make sure you have another before you leave." It would be much warmer, too, but Chris didn't need to tell the boy EVERYTHING.

He still seemed to be reluctant to let it go, but since it looked like it might be the only thing he owned in the world, Chris could understand. That still didn't stop him from tugging it away. "Why are you helping me?" he asked, still watching Chris -- and everything -- warily. "I have nothing to pay you with. Unless... unless you're looking for something th-that's, uh, more of a, a service..."

"Gods." Chris finally managed to wrench the jacket out of his hands with a grunt, using brute force. "No, boy, I'm not after your bum, pert though it might be. I'm head of the thieves guild here, and nothing's so bad for us as having a rank amateur running about mucking things up for us. Think of it as self-defense, if you like, me taking you off the street for a night. Maybe you'll be so overcome with gratitude you'll choose another line of work." He saluted the boy dryly, and headed for the kitchen to see what his cook had prepared.

He could hear the boy making noises back in the other room, but payed them little mind. He wouldn't be stupid enough to try to steal anything, and even if he did, he would be caught before he stepped out the front door. As long as he was still making noises, Chris could be sure he was still there.

He found meat pies and wine and was preparing to bring something out to the boy when he heard the noises stop. Peeking back into the other room, Chris saw that he'd removed the rest of his clothes save his underpants, and was shivering in front of the fire.

Chris looked at all that pale, perfect skin and swallowed hard once, then twice, then schooled himself to complete impassivity, and backtracked to retrieve his warmest blanket. "Here," he said a little roughly, as he came back fully laden. The boy looked up, startled and scared, and Chris dropped the blanket over him, setting the food and wine on a low stool within arm's reach. "Wrap up and get warm, and for the sake of all that's holy, stop looking at me like I'll be taking your virtue, your life and the hair off your pretty head. You're safe enough here."

He didn't look convinced, but he did wrap the blanket around himself. And a moment later, started stuffing food into his mouth with his fingers, like Chris might snatch it away at any time. "Ssoodangoo," he said, then choked briefly on a bit of crust. But before Chris could do anything to help, he was back to stuffing food in his mouth again.

"Slow down," he cautioned, pulling the second and third pies out of reach. "You've really been hungry a week, you'll throw all that back up in ten minutes if you eat too fast. Pace yourself." He shook his head at the boy, who seemed to be ignoring his advice. Well, he'd learn soon enough. Chris had. He settled into another chair, tilting it so his wet, cold feet were to the fire, and munched one of the pies himself. "What's your name, boy?" he asked finally, when he'd had to pause to breathe.

"'S'kolas," he mumbled as he sucked off his fingers eagerly. Chris tried not to watch his mouth as he did. A few moments later he looked up at Chris, right in the eye, and repeated, "N-nickolas. Sir."

"No sir, please," Chris requested, making a face. "Makes me feel ancient. You can call me Chris." He broke the remaining pie into small pieces, and handed one to Nickolas. "So, Nickolas." The boy looked at him warily. "Your clothing is fine, if filthy, and your hands are soft. You speak well, when you're not stuffing your mouth, and you're clearly no thief. Do you not have family to go to, to keep you out of the cold? Winter is definitely here, now."

He looked so infinitely sad at the question that Chris almost wished he hadn't asked. "I had better shoes," he said after a moment, wiggling his bare toes near the fire, "but they were taken off me as I slept. I didn't know the city would be like this. I thought it would be like home, only bigger."

Chris snorted. He'd heard a remarkably similar story from Justin. And Lance, and AJ...but Nickolas wasn't doing as well as they had been when Chris had found them. "They almost always go for the shoes first," he answered, trying to sound sympathetic. "It's because they're in short supply. Winter in the city is a very cruel time. If you have another place to go, I'd advise you to seek it out and stay until spring." He haded Nickolas another piece of pie, rationing it out, before pouring him a glass of weak wine.

"I don't," said Nick shortly, gulping the wine and spilling some on his chin. He wiped it off with the back of his hand. "I don't have another place to go. I'll be okay. I won't steal anymore. I can... " He took another hard swallow of the wine. "You might not have wanted... services... but there are others who will."

Chris felt himself starting to scowl. The head of the prostitutes' guild was a personal friend, and Chris knew that Nick could do worse, but something about the way he squared his shoulders and seemed to steel himself to even say the words indicated that he might not be the most cheerful sex worker. "You surely have other options," he offered, pouring more wine. "You've reached, what, eighteen summers? Surely you've learned a trade by now, and you're a fine big lad, you should be able to find work, if you've no desire to move to the Green Feather Street." Nick blinked at him. "Where the prostitutes are," he added helpfully.

"I have no trade," Nick snapped, and he was a piss-poor liar, that was for sure. "I have nowhere to go. I have nothing. I'm no one." And with that, he gulped more wine. Not having eaten in so long, it was sure to go to his head quickly. "I'll do what I have to do."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Well, you could always try acting in melodramas," he told Nick dryly, and handed over the last of the pie. "Seeing as how you're practicing *that* so actively. Relax, boy, and calm down. Nothing looks so bleak when you have a full belly and warm toes, and you're well on your way to both. Now, if you're dead set on selling your body, I can send you to Joseph. But I think you'd best consider other options."

He'd slowed down on the pie, at least, picking off bits with his fingertips to eat, now. At some point in time, he'd learned some manners, forgotten in his haste to get some food into him. "Thank you," he said. "For the food, and the hospitality, thank you. But I'm not sure there are any other options left to me anymore. I'm too clumsy for thieving, too skinny for labour, and there isn't much call for scribes unless you know someone. I was... they tell me I'm pretty. I thought I could use that."

"You are indeed," Chris agreed, looking at his small straight nose, red mouth, the wide arch of his cheekbones. "But I'm afraid Joseph only takes the willing into that guild, and he'd turn you away at the door. Your enthusiasm for the idea is decidedly lacking." He smiled a little at Nick's disgruntled face. "Don't worry, it's not for everyone, that life. You can cipher, and even write? I might perhaps know someone looking for a scribe. Perhaps."

Nick nodded, licking his fingers again. "I write in two languages," he said, as though it was nothing, "and do figures, and I can record alchemical equations. It's not very useful here, seems like, but it's what I can do."

"Hm." Chris sat back comfortably in his chair, thinking about his warehouse and the chaos there, and his need for recordkeeping. "Well, we'll see. In any event, you'll have a warm spot by the fire tonight, more supper once you've kept that down, and breakfast in the morning. And shoes." He eyed the thin slippers Nick had been wearing with distaste. "I'm surprised you still have all your toes."

From the look on Nick's face, he hadn't even thought about that. He wiggled his toes again cautiously. "I thought... I thought I was to leave, when I'd finished eating. Is that changed?"

"Changed if you want to stay," Chris nodded. "I'm sure you're bright enough to keep your hands to yourself in the house of a master thief, and I've no fear you'll make off with the silver, since I have none. I wouldn't throw a cat out into this snow, much less a boy." He looked up as footsteps clattered down the stairs, and AJ poked his head in.

"I'm off to--oh. We have company?" he peered at Nick, curious and a little hostile, black curls falling down into his face.

"I have company," Chris pointed out. "You have work to do. Off with you." He waved AJ out of the room.

Nickolas had already pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, making himself look smaller. Hiding. "Who is that?" he whispered, barely loud enough to be heard.

"That's AJ," Chris said, looking at him carefully. "One of my boys. Guildmember, apprentice thief. Nick." He waited until Nick looked up at him. "You'll come to no harm in this house. I swear it. Would you care to tell me what you're running from?"

Nick's obvious first instinct was to shake his head vehemently and reach for more wine. But he didn't deny that he *was* running from something. Which was good, because it had been patently obvious to Chris all along. "This wine tastes like the ones my father used to get from the neighborwoman," he said, body still curled up protectively. "It reminds me of home."

Chris recalled that the wine was from Bingen, on the coast. A clue, perhaps, though he had a feeling Nick might not be so difficult a puzzle as he'd first thought. "It's a good wine," he answered mildly, nodding and pouring more for himself. "Not too strong, perfect with meat pies. Though I supposed at your home they'd serve it with fish. You must miss the sea."

Nick's eyes shot up, startled., and he fell silent for a long moment. Chris got the distinct impression Nick was trying to figure HIM out, too, but he didn't think he was getting far. "I... it's different here," he said finally, confirming nothing outright but confirming it nonetheless. "Things are different. But it's okay. It's easy to disappear."

"Until they find your frozen body, sure it is," Chris nodded agreement. "And even then, people might not notice. Depends on where they find it, I suppose." He drank more wine and let Nick think about that one for a moment. "I think you'll find that almost anything you're running from right now is better than winter living on the streets. You've had a taste of it now, but it gets much colder and much hungrier, so you'd best think hard about your options."

Nick did seem to consider his options. Or perhaps consider his words, because what came out next sounded very careful. "What I left," he said slowly, and vaguely, "I can't go back to. That's not an option. So I need to find a way to make it here, whatever that may be. No matter how much I may hate it."

"Well." Obeying an impulse, Chris reached out and pushed Nick's long hair back from his face. Nick flinched back away from his hand, and Chris smirked, point proven. "I suppose you could give it a try. Let me see if this scribe position is in fact open, though, before you sacrifice yourself on the altar of lust, hmm? If you're that committed to staying here, you might as well be doing something that doesn't put *that* expression on your face."

"It's not that I don't enjoy it," Nick said, scowling a little and running his fingers through his own hair. "It's just... " He shrugged, and the scowl turned into a look of vague embarrassment. "I would get used to it, though. I would get used to it as being something other than love, if I had to. But... you know someone who needs a scribe? For real?"

"I might in fact need one myself." Chris steepled his fingers together, and regarded Nick evenly over them. "We'll see. And we'll talk about it in the morning. Right now, you need another meat pie, and milk, and then to bed before you fall down, break something and bleed all over my carpets."

"You?" said Nick, and his voice, already high-pitched, climbed to a squeak. "I... don't know what to say." And obviously he really didn't, because nothing else came out other than, "I'll like some more to eat, thank you, Chris." The first time he'd actually said Chris's name.

"All right then." Chris slapped his sore knees, aching from the cold, and rose. Betty was probably heating more at that very moment; she'd clucked at him for bringing home another stray, but had started warming the small pies at a great rate. "You'll sleep here, since the fire's warmest and so many of the rooms are damaged from the fire. So make yourself comfortable." The trip to the kitchen and back was a matter of moments, and when he returned Nick was curled in the other chair, covered entirely by the blanket.

"I'm sorry I tried to steal your purse," he murmured when Chris was close enough to be in his limited sight. And he actually sounded contrite. "I really was just hungry, and you looked like you could spare it. I thought of something I could do, to pay you back..."

"You're planning to clean my house? Why Nickolas, how nice." Chris grins at him, and places a warm pie in the hand that worms out of the blanket and extends towards him. "I can spare it, you're right, but you're lucky you picked me and not some merchant who would have had you thrown in stocks or worse. Don't do it again, all right? At least not until you know how."

Nick shook his head quickly, and Chris thought he'd shaken him up badly enough by catching him that he really *wouldn't* do it again. "I can fix the damage," he said, after he'd taken a big big -- but not big enough to choke on. "From the fire? I know how. I could do that for you."

Chris's eyebrows rose. "I thought you said you didn't know a trade. Carpentering, roofing? That's a trade, boy, and one that pays well. You shouldn't have any trouble finding work." He settled back into his chair, a little disappointed that he'd be losing his prospective scribe.

"It's... it's not carpentry. It's..." He looked very, very reluctant to say any more. "Something else. But trust me, that I can make it as good as it was before. I can do it while you're away... working, or whatever it is you do, since I don't know, exactly."

"Can you now." It wasn't really a question. "Nick, magic? For one thing, you can't be more than an apprentice, not at your age. For another, the guild takes care of its own, and if you *are* an apprentice, why aren't you with your master?" Chris had never heard of an apprentice magician leaving one of the highly coveted learning positions, and he'd never heard one volunteer to practice magic without a guild license.

"Shhhh!" said Nick, looking back over his shoulder like someone could've been listening in on their conversation. Interesting. "I can... I was a very good apprentice. I can help you. But you can't... you aren't supposed to know. You can't say anything."

"Mm-hmm. Like I'd be shouting about an unlicensed magician fixing my roof from the streetcorners." Chris gave him a look. "Don't you think someone might notice, if one day I've got a great burnt hole in my house and no effort shown for it? But..." he considered, looking at Nick's eager face. "It would save me time and money, and I'd get my bedchambers back. I suppose I could tell anyone who asked that I'd hired a magician on my own."

"I'm smart," said Nick indignantly. "I would do it a little bit at a time, one room a day. I have it all figured out how I would do it. If... if you want me to. And if you could pretend that you have no idea how I'm doing it, that would be good too, I think. It's..." He got that sad look in his eyes again, even as he continued to look hopeful. "It's the only thing I'm really good at, and I can't do it openly..."

Chris gave him a smile. "It sounds promising. I'll sleep on it. And you should sleep on it as well. Things'll seem better in the morning, I'm fairly sure." Just as he'd suspected, the wine and food and warm comfort had drawn Nick's eyes down heavily, and he was sprawling a little, looking melted. "Sleep now. I'll bank the fire and close the door, so the comings and goings won't disturb you. We'll talk in the morning."

"You promise I'll be safe?" said Nick, glancing warily at the door and then up the stairs. And yawning. "I'll be nice, to be safe for a night." He look like he needed just that -- a safe night of sleep -- more than almost anything else.

"I promise. The man isn't alive who can get past my people, and they're on guard tonight." He smiled again at the picture Nick made, like a puppy curling up on a pillow. "Just don't try to leave the house, or you'll be stopped. But in here, you're safe." He tossed Nick one more pillow and stood again, feeling old and tired. One more trip to fix Justin's mess, and then he too would be heading for his bed.

"Thank you," Nick mumbled, and he was closing his eyes, the wine on the stool next to him forgotten. What he had already drunk was doing its job well, and Chris felt sure he would sleep straight through until morning. By the time Chris had gotten just a few steps away, Nick was already snoring lightly, fast asleep.

* * *

Justin was lucky that Chris was fond of him, or he wouldn't have been very inclined to get him out of this mess, duty or no duty. He was exhausted when he returned home again, and not at all pleased to find AJ at the top of the stairs, waiting for him.

"You look like hell," AJ said in his typical blunt way, munching on a piece of fresh fruit. Chris wondered where he'd found it, this time of year. "Justin, or the new one?"

"Justin," Chris said, scowling at AJ, who grinned back, completely unintimidated. "And you keep that pointy nose out of it and away from Nick, child, neither of those things have anything at all to do with you. Shouldn't you be out snooping? I'm almost certain that's what you do around here." He pushed past AJ, who moved aside obligingly, but then was stopped by the rush of cold air from the hole in the roof of his bedchamber. "Fecking hells."

"There was a fire," said AJ, master of the obvious. "It's not so bad if you have someone in there to keep you warm. Makes me wonder why that poor Nick child is downstairs all by his lonesome, though he doesn't look like he can keep himself warm, let alone anyone else. He's been sleeping under the bridge, up until now. Did he tell you?"

Chris stared at AJ. "No, he did not," he said carefully, "and you, brat, know better than to think I'd use one of my boys to warm my bed. No wonder he looks so almost-dead, though, there's ice under that bridge. Stupid place to sleep. I don't suppose you know who fingered his shoes, do you? I've told you all about stealing clothes in the cold, am I going to have to break another head or three to get that point across again?"

"Dunno," said AJ, finishing of his fruit and wiping his fingers on his pants. "I only had an hour to find things out, you know. I'm good, but I'm not *that* good. Last couple days he's been trying to find work on a fishing boat, but it's end of the season and they aren't taking anyone new on. At least they would've given him boots, if they were. He should've tried his luck somewhere else."

"He did. Stuck some very untalented fingers into my moneypouch, actually, which is how he ended up here in the first place." He slapped AJ gently upside the head when he started hooting in laughter. "Now now, he's new here and didn't know better. So the fishing boats wouldn't take him, huh? Probably a good thing for him in the long run, those things are death traps. Pity to waste someone who can read and write on some cod-scow anyway."

AJ's expression of amusement changed into something that was as close to impressed as he ever got. "Really," he said, lifting an eyebrow. "I should've figured; he looks soft. But he also looks to damn skinny to be noble blood and most anyone else who can write is *doing* it. He kill someone or something? Sleep with his master's daughter?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Chris lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "Something like that, probably, but he's skittish about it. I think I might keep him on as a scribe if he doesn't decide to run off; I mean, do *you* know anyone else who can read and write and wants to work for us? I have a feeling this boy will work for food and a hiding place. So don't go screaming around that he's here, mind? It's a secret, and a guild secret, so don't sell it."

AJ made a face, but he did nod and AJ's word was good. "He looked pretty cozy down there, I don't think he's gonna be running off anywhere unless you make him. I got a feeling about him." And AJ he people sense that Chris could usually trust. "Find out where's he's come from, though, or you could be bringing a world of trouble down on our own heads."

"Well, hey." Chris slung a friendly arm over AJ's shoulder, smiling at the openly suspicious look the boy gave him. "I figure that's why I have you around, right? So I'm making it your job: find out where he's from and what he's doing here. If he's going to be staying here I want a full history, and I'm feeling generous tonight, so you have till tomorrow night. And spread the word that Nick's a possible guild adoption, and that anyone bleating about him being here answers to me."

AJ nodded quickly and hard; he knew what that meant, and so would anyone else. "I was figuring it would fall on me," he said, pulling another piece of fruit out of his coat and offering it to Chris. "By tomorrow night I should be able to tell you not only everything about him, but everything about anyone who knows him." Chris was counting on it. "Now get some sleep; you really do look like hell. Anything Justin's done now can wait until morning."

"Your respect for my age and authority never ceases to amaze me," Chris answered dryly, taking the fruit. "Get out of here, brat, before your tongue gets you in more trouble. And if you're interested, Justin's staying in the house at Court Street until all this dies down, and I'm sure he'd appreciate some company. What did you say? It's not as cold as long as you've got someone to warm you up?" He looked pointedly at the door. "Go, get out of here. Come back with information, but not until noon."

"Going, going," said AJ, giving him a cocky grin and a wave. "Things to see, people to do, I'll see you sometime after noon meal. I may have to leave the city; I'll leave word at the gate if I do."

"Don't get caught," Chris warned him, the traditional thieves' farewell, "and be back inside city walls before nightfall, no matter what." He gave AJ a fond smack on the behind, and turned to his own cold and very empty bed. He hoped grimly that he wouldn't be an icicle before morning, but hearing the wind whistle by outside the firm walls he knew he was still in far better shape than the city's beggars and wanderers.

* * *

One of the beautiful things about Chris's job was that its nocturnal nature made it possible to linger in bed under warm coverlets sinfully late in the mornings. When he finally crawled out of bed and splashed cold water on his face, the sun was high in the sky. One peek into his parlor showed that his young guest was still sleeping: Chris expected that hunger pains would rouse him soon, and made his own way to the kitchen.

There was no sign of his cook, but there was bread and cold meats on the table and he helped himself to some. It was obvious that he wasn't the first.

"Chris."

The voice came from behind him; Chris had heard the footsteps approaching so he wasn't startled. Lance, he guessed by the pattern of the footfalls. When he turned to see, his guess was confirmed.

"Chris, you have a visitor."

"I know," Chris mumbled, his mouth full of meat and bread. "He's asleep in the parlor. Name's Nick, AJ should have talked to you about him at some point..."

"Not him." Lance regarded him with cool green eyes, only a slight flush on his high cheeks. "Someone else. In the front hall, and he tried to give me a kiss hello and then squeezed my ass."

"It's Joseph!" Chris said, instantly delighted and heading for the entryway. "Well, why didn't you say so, Lance?"

Lance rolled his eyes at Chris and, duty done, he snatched a piece of bread off the table. "So *that's* Joseph?" he said. "I should've guessed. Anyway, he's waiting for you. No one would let him come in any further without your say so."

"Well, that's only right and proper," Chris agreed, patting him on the shoulder as he went by on his way to the door. "Good work, Lance."

The moment he stepped into the hall, he was swept up into huge arms and kissed enthusiastically and thoroughly, before Joseph pulled back and grinned at him from very close range. "Joe!" He spluttered in protest, wiggling.

Joseph didn't let go until Chris thought he was going to have to start gasping for breath. "You never come down to see me anymore," he said, patting Chris's cheek, "so I had to come see you."

"I'm gonna..." said Lance, gesturing at the door and then ducking out it before he could be grabbed up too.

Joe just laughed heartily and gave Chris a smack on the hip. "How's business?"

"Not as booming as yours, I hear," Chris said, punching him in the shoulder in retaliation. "You're just rolling in it, I hear. But I'm not doing so bad, over here, it's just busy, you know? I'm sorry I haven't been for a visit." He shared a private grin with Joe in memory of that last visit. "I've had my hands full working in a whole new crew. But I can't imagine what I'm thinking, come on, come in. There's a fire going in the parlor." He'd clean forgotten about Nick until he opened the door and there he was, standing by the chair in only his threadbare pants, looking around all rumpled and golden from sleep.

"Oh my," said Joe, stopping dead and looking him blatantly up and down. "There certainly is something hot in here, all right."

At the sound of a voice Nick turned and squinted towards them, with a little smile for Chris and a little modest covering of his body for Joseph. "I... my clothes are gone," he admitted, gesturing at the floor where he'd left them. Where Chris had had someone take them away to be cleaned or burned, whichever they needed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, we'll get you more," Chris said automatically, dragging his eyes away from the sunshine on Nick's shoulders. "And you," he slapped Joseph, "stop drooling and hands off. He's not one of yours, he's got no interest, and I won't have you recruiting him away." At Nick's puzzled look, he explained. "Nick, this is Joseph, master of the prostitute's guild. And Joseph, this is Nick, my new scribe. Nick, there's breakfast in the kitchen."

"Sometime my interest IS other than professional," Joe reminded him, certainly making no effort to keep his eyes off Nick. "Though you are a lovely, lovely boy, Nick. You would do well."

Nickolas flushed under the attention, and for some reason that Chris couldn't fathom, he was obviously unused to it. "I'm... thank you," he said politely, staring at his bare feet. "But Chris has already taken me on." He eyes raised to Chris. "I think?"

"Yes," Chris agreed, ignoring the fact that he'd come to his decision sometime in the last thirty seconds. "I need someone to catalogue my warehouse, keep records and calculate value of goods. Since no one in the guild can read or write..." he shrugged expressively, turning away from Nick to shout down the hall. "*Where are those clothes? Someone had better move their feet!*" There was no reason, after all, to put Joey in temptation's way. "I don't pay royally, but you'll have a roof and meals and one day off a week, just like the rest of my boys. And the offer only stands if you're no danger to me or mine." He watched Nick closely for his reaction.

Nick did flinch, but Chris was only able to notice because he was watching. "I think," he said slowly, choosing his words again, "I will be the only one in danger, if there is anyone. You don't need to pay me, you've already done enough -- I'm not cold and I'm not hungry. I don't need anything else."

"Don't be a fool, boy," said Joseph jovially. "Chris will treat you fair, he always does. Everyone needs other things, whether they know it yet or not. Even if it's just a vial of body oil, once in a while..."

"Slut," Chris says affectionately, patting Joe on the shoulder before turning back to Nick. "I'll pay you the same as I do my other junior boys, with advancement possibilities. I don't care what you do with the money...spend it, save it, hells, give it to Joseph, but it's yours. Now, if you accept, go fetch your clothes and your breakfast. If not, well. The clothes and breakfast are still yours, but you'll have to be on your way after that."

Nick's answering nod was quick. "Yes, yes, of course I will, thank you." He looked like he couldn't quite believe it, that he'd fallen into this kind of luck. More than just being a fool for a pretty, needy face, Chris knew that being the receipient of such a kindness inspired loyalty, and Chris thrived on loyalty.

"Believe me," said Joe, giving Nick another appreciative look, "if you ever came to me you would not need to be handing over any money. Keep that in mind."

Nick flushed again and looked back at his feet. "I... still don't know where my clothes are, but I'd like some breakfast."

"Joey, you're terrifying the child," Chris scolded. "Stop. He'll come visit you when he's ready and not a moment before. Nick, your clothes will most probably be in the kitchen...this time of day, it's where you can mostly find anyone you're looking for. And there's warm water in the chamber by the kitchen...this house has only a few rules, but clean hands before eating is one of them." He looked pointedly at Nick's hands and face and neck, still filthy from the soot and grime of the streets he'd been living on. "Go make yourself presentable, and we'll be in shortly."

Nick looked even more embarrassed, enough that Chris guessed that being filthy was definitely not his normal state of being. He disappeared quickly into the kitchen, Joey's eyes following him the whole time. "He's lovely," he murmured, but he was also shaking his head. "Good thing you've got a place for him, though, because he could never work for me."

"No, probably not, though that was apparently his next option after he tried to pick my pocket." Chris was getting a lot of mileage out of the expressions of people he told that little story to. He grinned at Joey. "He IS lovely, and you should have seen him bracing himself to come talk to you. Too pretty to be an unmemorable thief, but he'll be a perfect scribe, and at the very least, it'll keep him out of trouble." He leaned his shoulder against Joey's, flashing back to years ago when he was a starving thief and Joey just a big-eyed, too-innocent whore. "Good to see you, Joe. You should come by more."

"*You* should come see *me* more," insisted Joey, running a hand up Chris's back. "You know you're always welcome, and we both know it's not so far to come. And don't tell me you don't have the time..."

Chris laughed a little. "I don't, I really don't. This crew is running me ragged, ten times worse than the last ones. They're all brilliant in their ways, but that just makes them that much harder to keep under control. Justin almost lost his hand yesterday..." He scowled at the thought. "And now Nickolas, this lamb from the slaughter or whatever he is, who will clearly be needing a keeper at least temporarily. It's like I'm running a foster home for young men of questionable morals, Joe. They keep me dancing, that's for sure. How are things with you? Your business?"

"You knew what you were getting into when you got into the business," said Joey, giving him a grin. "I seem to remember you *were* once a young man of questionable morals in need of a home. You've got a good lot, Chris, but you've *got* to get them to stop working the alley back of my street. I'm losing the repeat business you *know* I'd be getting from all those merchants passing through from the east."

Chris pressed his hand over his heart, adopting his best wounded expression, widening his eyes dramatically. "Joe. Joseph. I am hurt. My boys know better than that." At Joe's skeptical look, he relented. "I really have told them not to, but the >pickings are just too good. If I can get them to only hit there once or twice a week, would that be all right? And I'll warn them off your locals and regulars, too, and make it stick." He poked Joe's side. "If you get your two pretty new ones to stop distracting Justin and AJ and Lance when they're out on jobs. They can't afford you yet."

Joe's grin never left his face. "I'll see what I can do," he promised. "Once or twice a week, I can handle. Try not to make it the first night they're in town, either. I know they're flush with gold, but they'll still have just as much, perhaps even more, a few days later. I do have some lovely new blood, don't I? I do appreciate people who love their work."

"That Angel boy is really quite something," Chris agreed. "And he's got that look in his eye, I can tell he's a real artist. Maybe I *will* come down and visit." He grinned at Joe. "Though you know nothing could ever compare to you. You're the master, the rest of us are just drooling amateurs compared to you, and that includes your boys. But he's awfully pretty, and you know my thing about blonds."

Joe's glance wandered toward the kitchen as Chris said that, unsurprisingly. "You and me both," he murmured, but then turned his attention to Chris again. "Well, that's business taken care of, then. Shall we join your beautiful Nickolas for some breakfast, or would you be interested in spending some time with 'the master'?"

"I want to spend time with the master," Chris said immediately, running a hand up Joe's leg suggestively. He'd had a low hum of heat in him since watching Nick undress last night, and it *had* been far too long, and Joe's eyes were warm and friendly and familiar. But... "But I should probably keep an eye on him. My boys can be a little, hm, rowdy, and I'd hate for him to get terrorized his first day. He's not my usual street rat." He squeezed Joe's hip regretfully. "Another time?"

Joe sighed dramatically, but he obviously understood. They both understood each other, and what they had to do; it was part of why it was so nice when they got together, just the familiarity. The comfort. "Of course," he murmured, nodding his head. "Another time, and I'm going to hold you to that. I wouldn't mind another glimpse of the boy and perhaps a bite to eat before I'm on my way, though."

"As if I'd ever send you home hungry," Chris snorted, leading the way to the kitchen. "And please, try not to drool. I imagine he's even prettier with a cleanface and more food in his belly. It's going to beinteresting having him around. And interesting when he meets Justin. Are you *sure* you don't want tohire Justin away from me? He's going to get himself killed one of these days in his stunts, and he's certainly cute enough for you."

"Oh, he's more than good looking enough," agreed Joseph wholeheartedly. "And I'm sure he'd enjoy the work, but a large part of it is in satisfying the paying customer and that, old friend, is where I think he'd fail. What did he get himself into this time, anyway?"

They passed into the kitchen where Nickolas was curled up on a stool, chewing on a piece of bread. He had a fresh pair of pants on, but still no shirt. "I, uh..." he said when he saw them, and stopped eating. "I didn't know what I was allowed to have."

Chris marched over to the table, and shoved meat and cheese and fruit at Nick, piling it under his nose. "You can eat anything. You live here now, or you will, once I get the roof fixed. Help yourself." He looked around. "Where are those clothes I told Lance to bring? Hells, can nothing get done around here without me?" He waved a hand at Joseph, too. "Sit, eat, I'll be right back. With clothes, so you can stop ogling my clerk. Really, Joseph, show some tact." He had to admit, though, that Nick's well-scrubbed face passed 'pretty' and went straight to 'beautiful,' and that he himself was having trouble looking away.

"No, no," said Nick quickly. "There's a shirt. I mean, there was a hole in the shirt, he's getting it fixed. He brought me pants, though, see?" He kicked up a leg, but Chris had already noticed, and he *knew* Joe had. "I'll... I'm just eating... nothing to ogle here, at all."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," said Joe, giving Nick's knee a pat as he helped himself to the food. "Such a lovely boy. It's a shame about your hang-ups."

"Joseph!" Chris scowled at him, as Nick blinked at them both. "I'm sorry," he apologized to Nick, though he was fighting a little grin of his own. "It's just his way. If you're not out laying everything with a pulse, Joe assumes that there's some sort of hang-up involved. Ignore him, we do." Without a task to perform, he slid into a seat himself, leg jumping with surpressed morning energy. Joe placed a settling hand on *his* knee, then, with a knowing smile.

"Oh," said Nick, staring at his food for a moment before starting to eat it. He was blushing again, Chris could see even even more clearly without dirt smudged on his cheeks. "It's not like I've never or something. It's just... different, back home. Everything's different."

"Yeah, things are like that sometimes," said Joe, with a certain note of sympathy, even as he squeezed Chris's knee. "Things take a little getting used to, but I'm sure you'll settle right in just fine, with Chris in your corner."

"That's because I'm fantastic," Chris said smugly, stuffing his mouth with winter apple and cheese. "And I take good care of my boys. You won't have to worry, you'll get used to things soon."

"Having a personal servant isn't one of those things," Lance said, coming through the door with a shirt and athick felted wool jacket in his hands. "You can sew your own shirts after this, but I figured since you're new I'd help out this one time." He snatched a piece of bread out of Chris's fingers and settled next to Joe.

"As you can see, I rule by fear," Chris said dryly.

Joey just laughed and ruffled Lance's hair until he ducked away. "You're the one who handpicks the boys so you only have yourself to blame," he said.

"I can sew," Nick put in, still taking only tiny bites of the food, in contrast to the way he'd been stuffing his face the night before. Chris knew he still had to be ravenous, though. Would probably have a healthy appetite even when he wasn't half-starved. "So I can do that for you too, if you don't have a seamstress. I'm a terrible cook, though, for things to eat. But there are..." He gave Chris a half-scared, half-serious look. "There are other things that I can make that might be helpful. You know."

"Please relax," Chris begged him theatrically, hoping he'd laugh a little. "You don't have to do anything besides read, write, not rob me blind, and keep yourself healthy and presentable. If you want to sew, do it on your own time, most of us get things repaired by the washerwoman down the street. Lance will show you, won't you, Lance? Give him the tour?"

"No," Lance said, then relented. "Oh, okay, but only for an hour. Then I've got an appointment, I'm meeting a lady for lunch. She's got lovely, lovely pearls." He rubbed his hands together, looking gleeful.

Nick obviously expected there to be repercussions to this, from the look on his face. Chris wondered if he'd even *been* to the city before he'd come running here. Another piece of the puzzle, and hopefully many more to come from AJ later that day, if Nick wasn't going to spill.

"So, um," said Nick, slowly starting to eat more when it didn't look like anyone was going to stop him. "When do I start? Working? What do you need me to do? Do you have supplies? I don't know where to get any around here, but I could figure it out. Do you need me to keep a ledger? I can do that, I did that for my father. Before. Do you need me to write letters? Read letters? I can make signs, too, I'm a very good painter..."

"Hey!" Lance growled at him, deep and low, and Chris wondered if Nick could tell he was kidding. "Quit that, you're gonna make the rest of us look bad. All overachieving and shit. You have to..." he cut a glance at Chris, and smirked a little. "Well, I'll tell you later."

"On second thought, maybe I'll show you around myself," Chris mused aloud, frowning at Lance. "I'd hate for you to fall under bad influences, and Lance has his lady to see. Some high class lady, I'm expecting results, Lance. And Nick, we don't exactly *do* signs in this business. If we ever do, though, I'll give you a call. And I'll explain the job as we go, all right? Now put some clothes on, for heaven's sake."

Nick instantly put his food down and pulled the shirt on, hiding the body that neither Chris nor Joey had managed to keep their eyes off. "Sorry," he said softly, withdrawing again. It didn't look quite right on him, didn't look natural. Chris wondered if that behaviour, too, was a recent acquisition. "I'll just... be quiet? Eat."

"Now the eating I'll go along with," said Joey, "but if you don't keep talking you're likely to get steamrolled, in a place like this. And *I* could use some decent signage, so don't count it out so fast, Christopher. I pay well, too. Keep that in mind if you want to do some outside contracting. And speaking of contracting, I should be on my way soon."

"Got an appointment?" Chris smirked at Joe, but reached out and ruffled Nick's hair at the same time, making sure his touch was gentle. "Go on, Joe. Get some for all of us, because us working men, we've got places to be. And if you want to contract Nick, remember you come to me first, Joe. He's a guildmember now, or at least almost." He turned to Nick with a smile. "And once we get that deal done, there's nothing anyone can do to get you out of here without a formal hearing. So there you have it."

"Believe me, he's right," Lance said over his shoulder. "If it wasn't true, Justin would've been gone the first time he fell off a roof."

"He fell off a roof?" repeated Nick, and almost cracked a smile. "He sounds like he's even worse than I am. And at least there are some things I'm not clumsy at."

"And I can just imagine what those are," said Joe with a wink. "Good day, gentlemen, I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon." Before he made his exit, though, he pulled Chris into a long goodbye kiss. "Especially you."

"Mmmm," Chris hummed happily, kissing him back before watching him go out the door. "Definitely." When he turned back, Nick was gawking a little. "We're old friends," he explained, bustling around and getting the meat and cheese wrapped for the cool room, leaving out large portions for Nick to keep eating. "And it's not so much that Justin's clumsy, as that he's an idiot and takes too many risks. You'll see once you get to know him. Hopefully you won't be anything like that...I nearly had to sell my ass to keep his hand on the end of his wrist last night, because he got caught with his hand in someone's strongbox. Anyway. Once you're finished eating, we'll go see the warehouse, and I'll explain your duties."

Nick shivered and turned a little white, and when Chris remembered what Nick had been an apprentice in, he knew why. The only thing worse would be the thought of losing his voice. "No, I won't be anything like that," he promised, in a voice that made Chris believe him. No one, after all, could possibly be reckless in quite the same way as Justin was. "What do you have in your warehouse, exactly?"

"Oh, various ill-gotten gains that I haven't managed to move yet," Chris said cheerfully. "It's not a very big warehouse, but it's very very secure. And I've got piles of things in corners that I keep forgetting I have, so you see my need for you. I can't read or write myself, but it'll be good to have someone here keeping track of things. I want a catalogue of all the artworks, for example. That way if I hear a collector wants one, I'll know where to look for it." He finished his quick cleanup and patted Nick's shoulder again. "Stay here, eat more. I need to go get my winter things on. There are shoes for you in the front hall, boots really, I hope they fit."

"I have big feet," admitted Nick, looking down at them. They were still bare, which Chris didn't like much but there wasn't much he could do about it just at the moment. "I hope they'll be okay. I miss my good shoes, they were a gift from... they were a gift." Slowly but surely, he was continuing to eat and had made a respectable dent in the food Chris had left out. Best to eat slowly anyway, but Chris could wish he would be a little less hesitant about accepting it. He could understand, though. "I'll need things, then," he said. "To keep records, I'll need things. Paper, ink. Unless you have some, but if no one here writes..."

"We'll get you supplies," Chris promised, nodding. "And good shoes. But I grabbed Justin's second best boots, which are *very* nice and also very big, for you. And we'll get you ledgers and all the ink and pens you can handle. In fact, we might find them in the warehouse. I think AJ lifted a mahogany setrecently. Not that valuable, but good practice." Hegrinned at Nick. "I know it'll take a little while, but you really can relax here."

"I still don't quite understand," admitted Nick, growing more candid again now that they were alone. "I mean, I understand, but I don't get it. Yesterday I tried to steal from you, today I have a home and food and a job. I'm still not real clear on how that happened. I'm grateful! I'm very grateful! Just... confused. I'll do a good job, though, I swear. Whatever you need."

"Life's funny like that," Chris said, made a little uncomfortable by Nick's confusion and clear gratitude. "I mean, sometimes things just work out, right? You happened to try for the right pocket, and have the skills I need, and I like you and you seem like a good kid." He shrugged a little. "I'm sure you'll do a good job. I'm guessing whatever reason you left your other master, it wasn't that he kicked you out for being lazy or unwilling. I've never seen such an eager beaver."

Nick's lips tightened and he didn't say anything for a moment. "I was a very good apprentice," he said finally, "and a very good worker. But it's probably better for you if you don't know why I left. What you don't know can't hurt you, they always say." And they were always wrong about that, in Chris's opinion.

"See, what *I* don't know, if you know it and someone else knows it, can hurt me indeed," he argued, already heading for the stairs to retrieve his long cloak and his waterproof boots. "Especially if I'm in your general vicinity a lot, which it looks like will happen, you know? Also, if I know, I can help. A lot more than if I don't know." He paused to think that through, then nodded. "Yeah, that came out right."

Nick shook his head stubbornly, though. "It's better that you don't," he insisted. "If you don't know, no one can ever say that you do. It's just... it doesn't matter anyway. It doesn't matter who I was. I'm just Nick. Your... your clerk. And that is all."

"Mmm-hmm." Chris gave him a long look before dashing up the stairs, then back down with his things. He tossed Nick's jacket to him, and paused to yank on his own boots. "If I don't know, I won't know which direction to watch in. But you suit yourself, Nick, I'm not going to invade a man's privacy." Except AJ was out diligently doing just that, but Nick didn't need to know that. "Come on, clerk, go fetch your boots and bundle yourself up. I won't have one of my boys losing a toe out there in this snow. And when we get back, maybe you can do something about that hole in my roof?" He shuddered theatrically.

Nick looked up and gave Chris a ghost of a smile again as he slipped on the boots. If they pinched, it couldn't be much because NIck didn't look at all uncomfortable. Then again, after what he'd been wearing before, just about anything would be an improvement.

"I'm ready," he said a moment later, bouncing on his heels and suddenly giving Chris the full force of his smile for the first time.

Chris almost stepped back into the wall, he was so completely floored by that smile and the way it made Nick glow. Trouble, trouble, trouble his mind was screaming at him, but it wasn't like he could take it all back now, and after all...it was just a smile. He dredged up a smile back, hoped it didn't look like he'd been hit by a brick, and gestured for Nick to lead the way out of the house. "The warehouse is only a few blocks away," he said, after a moment of adjustment to the freezing air, and realizing that the top of his head only reached Nick's ear. "We'll get you a proper coat before you start walking it every day."

"Oh no, no," said Nick, tugging on cuffs that were just a bit too short. "This is fine, this is more than good enough for me." He was shivering, though, enough that Chris could see. Even if his teeth didn't chatter and his hands didn't shake. "Which direction? You have to tell me, I don't know my way around here well at all."

"Just follow me." He kept an eye on Nick. "If it makes you feel better, I'll take the cost of the coat out of your pay. But I can't have my people wandering around looking like ragamuffins. Think about what the other guild masters would say." In point of fact, they'd probably either approve or say nothing at all, but Nick didn't need to know that either. "We've got to keep up appearances. Turn left here." He was on the brink of turning back to fetch Nick a better coat, but stopped himself in time, shaking his head at himself. One gangly boy was turning him all around and inside out.

"I thought I looked all right," said Nick, tugging on his cuffs again. "It's a very nice coat, it's more than enough, I think. I was okay with the other one, after all..." Now that, Chris knew, was an absolute lie. If Nick hadn't found a place within another week or less, he probably would've frozen, if he hadn't starved or been hanged first. "Mostly."

"I think we should have a little talk about arguing with your boss," Chris said severely. It had never worked on the other boys, but he never quite gave up hope. "You need a new coat and I will provide you with one, and no arguments out of you, young man. For one thing, your fingertips are turning blue already, skinny thing that you are, and that jacket has no pockets. It would be very hard to write with frostbitten fingers, I think."

Nick's head ducked immediately and Chris heard a mumbled "sorry, sorry" as Nick trudged along. Even knowing there were know pockets, he tried to shove his hands in them more than once. "Um. It's not much further is it?" he asked finally. "I think you spoiled me last night, with the fire and the blanket."

"Just another block. Turn here." He led Nick down a tiny alleyway, walled on both sides by buildings so decrepit they leaned together to stay standing. Turned a corner, walked another block, and knocked three times on a door that only Chris's people knew was a lot stronger and more sturdy than it looked. A *lot*. It swung open, and the stolid face of an older man peered out at them. "Erd, it's me." Chris waved his fingertips, and Erd stepped aside to let them in, the door closing with a solid THUNK. "This is pretty much it." Chris gestured around himself.

It wasn't huge, no, but it wasn't exactly small either. And it was in just as much disarray as Chris had warned Nick it would be, piles of things everywhere, chests, shelves almost to the ceiling. Nick's eyes were wide as he turned all the way around, looking at the contents of the room. "This is going to take a long time," he blurted out.

"Think of it as job security," Chris suggested, peering underneath a rather nice pewter ewer that was sitting on top of a wooden box. There *was* a silver bracelet, heavy and studded and spiky under there, just as he'd thought. He tossed it casually to Nick, startling him into catching it. "That's for you. And don't forget, there'll be more coming in pretty regularly. I mean, this is mostly for stuff that can't be moved right away, so there won't be any gems in here, or coins, or suchlike. Mostly this stuff is the result of overenthusiastic or undiscriminating burgling, but there are some choice items." He patted a stuffed rooster with gleaming black eyes fondly.

Nick's eyes were still so, so wide. "Chris," he said, his voice hushed and awed. "Do you even know what some of this stuff is?" With the hand that wasn't holding the bracelet, he picked up a book and blew some dust off it. "This is... wow."

"I know what all of it is, except the books," Chris nodded, watching him. "I can't read, remember? I'm afraid literacy wasn't a big goal in my young life. But I'm sure you'll be able to tell me, right? And then not only will I know what I have, I'll know what it's worth. That's a big problem," he confided. "If I don't know what it's worth, I have no idea how much to mark it up for resale. Too little and I've lost my edge, too much and I lose customers. It's a problem."

"I... yeah," said Nick, obviously still overwhelmed. Finally he looked down at the bracelet he was holding. "What do you mean, for me? Is this where you want me to start? I need some supplies, before I can..."

"That's for you," Chris said patiently, eyebrows rising. "It's yours, you own it, you should wear it on that pretty wrist if you like it and if not, sell it or something. Signing bonus." Plus, he thought it would look very good on Nick. "I think there are blank ledgers over there, and possibly ink, too. But you don't have to get started right away, you can start tomorrow, once we've gotten you everything you need. It's easier to concentrate that way."

Nick furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, and Chris rolled his eyes. It wasn't that difficult to understand. But a moment later Nick put the bracelet on and gave Chris that devastating smile again. "This isn't even sorted," he said finally, looking around again. "I'll have to do that first, I think, before I can even begin recording everything. Look at that, documents in with gold plates, fine china and pewter all together. There's no logic to this at all. I can help you here."

"Good." Chris beamed at him. "I'm putting you in charge. If you need help moving things, you can use Justin...he's laying low for a while, on my orders. And he's strong, at least. I'll tell him when I intrroduce you two, probably later today. We generally take evening meals together, those of us who can, so you'll meet everyone then. And we still have to get you a bed and at least a corner to sleep in, until the room is fixed." He slapped Nick, who was looking at him strangely, on the shoulder. "Do you have anyone you want to tell you're here? Send a crier, or what have you? Family-type people?"

"No!" said Nickolas, too quickly and too loud. "No," he repeated a moment later, a lot more subdued. "There's no one needs to know I'm here. This is... being in here all the time, working on this? This is perfect, it couldn't be more perfect."

Chris frowned a little. "Well, don't forget that you need to see the sun sometime." He looked around at the dusty piles of bric-a-brac and books and china, and didn't really see the appeal. Nick, though, he was clearly right at home. "All right, I can see you're itching to get started, and I have things to do. Do you want to come back with me, or stay here for a bit? It's your choice."

"I'll be okay in here, if you have things to do," said Nick, his eyes not even on Chris. "There's so much to do. I can only imagine the kind of things I'm going to find in here." He finally glanced over again. "I'd probably just be in your way, if I came with you, I think."

"Possibly," Chris agreed, striving for honesty like always. "Just stay put, then, and I'll be back or send one of the boys in a few hours. I doubt you could find your way back yet, so don't go wandering off." At least it was warmer in the warehouse. And Chris had to go see Justin, hopefully meet with AJ, and he was thinking of taking an hour and going to visit Joe or one of *his* boys or girls. For some reason, he'd been edgy with sexual tension all morning. "And don't worry if you break anything. I'll never notice." He grinned a little again.

"Oh no!" said Nick, his eyes shooting wide again. "I could never break any of these things!" He looked like he really meant it, too. His earnesty was... well, refreshing, among other things. "Believe me, I'm not going anywhere, I'll be right here the whole time. Or maybe there." And he pointed to a far corner of the warehouse, where Chris presumed he intended to start.

"Okay." Chris nodded, not even trying to match that enthusiasm. "Don't bring anything down on your head, though Erd will be here the whole time. Doorman," he waved a hand towards the man in question, who looked asleep. "He stays here during the day. Enjoy youself, don't get lost, and I'll be back for you soon." He had the strangest urge to touch Nick in farewell, but shook it off and headed for the door. It was almost noontime, and AJ had promised him a report. Not to mention, two of his girls were due back from a job, and he always liked to be there for that part.

* * *

It was getting late and there had been no word from AJ, which made Chris nervous. Not as nervous as it might have it AJ didn't consistently forget to send word when plans changed, but word nonethless. It was with annoyance and relief, then, when AJ burst through the door and headed straight for the kitchen.

"Ahem." Chris was standing in the doorway of the parlor, where he'd been planning an art theft in his head. AJ spun to look at him, but then kept going towards the kitchen, leaving Chris no option but to follow him. "Hells, AJ, you'd think you hadn't eaten since yesterday. What's so great about the kitchen?"

"I *haven't* eaten since yesterday," said AJ, grabbing a meat roll for himself and tearing it open. "I just got back, and boy do I have a story to tell. But first--" And he took a huge bite.

"Ugh." Chris watched him spill food all over the floor, dropping some from his too-big mouthful. "Disgusting. I thought I'd raised you better than that." He started tapping his foot impatiently as AJ chewed, swallowed and chewed again without so much as a word, totally focused on his food. "Okay," Chris finally burst out. "Stop eating before you choke. Drink something, and tell me."

AJ nodded and took a cup from the pitcher of water, gulping it all down. "I'll say this for your Nickolas -- he looks pretty good for a dead guy."

"A *what*?" Chris gaped for a moment, then pulled himself back together. "All right, I know I don't pull rank much, but you tell me what's going on right now or I'll have you on pickpocket patrol for the next month. And no teasing, no lying, just give it to me straight so I can figure out if this guy's a danger to us."

AJ was nodding as he gulped back some more water. "You remember, maybe a month back, that fire out at the coast? John of Malachia's headquarters, burnt to the ground? Everyone was talking about it. Your Nick is apparently the apprentice who is supposed to have died in the blaze. Either that, or he looks just like him, came from that area and took his name."

"Also a possibility, but hmm. Seems a little too complex for our Nick." Chris started to pace, tapping his fingers against his thigh restlessly. "So, let's say he's Nick the Apprentice. His castle burns down, but instead of staying by his master's side he pretends he's dead, walks here in the middle of winter, and tries to get a job on a fishing boat. Without changing his name." He spun and eyed AJ. "Is there more? There has to be more."

"There's always more," AJ agreed with him, taking another bite of the roll, and not choking this time. "Rumor is that Nickolas started the blaze himself, meddling in magicks he wasn't supposed to. That dark magicks were involved wasn't much of a surprise to the locals, what with John the Black being his master, but word is he was always a good boy before that. A little tempermental, but goodhearted." He shot Chris an accusing look. "You did *not* tell me Nick was involved with magic."

"Hmm." Chris ignored that last, it wasn't like he was obligated to tell AJ all his secrets. "Don't tell anyone else, I want your word on it. And hmm." He paced some more. "If he was really responsible for the blaze, he wouldn't have been so quick to volunteer to fix our roof, I don't think. Perhaps. Now this is a pretty tangle. I can see why he's so jumpy, though, had I burned down John the Black's castle I'd be a bit paranoid myself."

"No one has any inkling he might be alive," AJ added, "and I didn't give 'em reason to think it either. He noble, you know. Minor, but noble all the same. He left a big family behind to mourn him."

"Ah." That stopped Chris in his tracks, frozen for a long moment, and his mouth twisted in a wry smile. "Of course he's noble, I should have seen it in his hands, the way he has no idea how to survive. Well, there goes my lovely new scribe, I suppose." He scrubbed his hands through his hair. "Good work, AJ. Fantastic work, actually, and thank you for your care. I'd hate to have an avenging mage come down on us, dark magics blazing."

AJ's mouth twisted and he didn't look pleased at all. "There's something not right about this," he said. "I wish I could have gotten more, but Nick's under your protection now and I didn't want to risk him. Something just doesn't seem quite right about it all. but then, when does it, when magic's involved?"

"Never," Chris agreed wholeheartedly. "Never trust anything you can't put your hand on, as I say. Keep your ears open, would you? If it's still common knowledge that he died, I doubt there's a search out for him or anything of that sort, and he'll be safe enough with us until he decides what to do. And if you hear anything that touches that not-right feeling you have, bring it straight to me. No heroics, no stupidity. Magic is not something we play with."

AJ already knew that, though, and just nodded seriously. "I'm going to eat more now," he said. "Unless you have any more questions. But I don't have much else to give you. Poor kid tried about a dozen different places in town, trying to get work, but there's just nothing right now for someone like him, it's not the season."

"Nope." Chris patted AJ on one too-thin shoulder. He reminded himself to send Betty out for more food: with this many boys to keep fed, their grocer bill was absurd. But worth it. "Eat that, and take another," he suggested. "When you're done, go fetch Nick from the warehouse. He's started cataloguing already. And AJ, pick him up a decent coat on your way?" He flipped AJ a gold coin. "A warm one."

AJ eyes the coin with some interest, but Chris knew he could trust him. AJ's loyalty to him was unquestionable. "Eat first, then Nick," he said, pocketing the coin. "Got it. You eat too, Chris. Or find someone to share your bed for a while. You look like you need it."

"I've been waiting for your malingering behind all afternoon," Chris grouched. "Go get him, bring him back and feed him. If you think you can handle that without supervision, I DO actually have somewhere to be that's not here. And I think I'll be on my way." Joey wouldn't mind if he showed up without an appointment, he knew.

"You know I can," said AJ, packing the rest of the roll away and patting his nonexistent stomach in satisfaction. "And I won't mention our little conversation, I think. Go take care of... things. And come back a smiling man, would you? We'll be fine."

Chris just growled at him, the impertinent brat, and stomped out the front door without another word. He did trust AJ, like he'd trust his own right hand, and it wasn't like he was worried. But he wanted to talk things over with Joe, who he could trust. Possibly *after* they'd worked off some of that tension. Sometimes it was nice to have a stranger, but when he was as tense as this, really only a friend would do.

* * *

Chris could barely lift his head to watch Joey gently untying his wrists from the bedposts, he was so relaxed and sated and tired and exhilarated. He wiggled his toes blissfully against the heavenly softness of Joey's sheets, and then rolled his shoulders as soon as his hands were free. He sighed and relaxed as Joey crawled back up the bed and tucked Chris under one arm, cuddling him shamelessly. "God, Joe. I needed that. And as always, you fixed it."

"Anytime," murmured Joseph, kissing his neck. "You really should come by more often, Chris, and that's both a personal and professional opinion. You're far too tense. It's not good for you."

"I've got a lot on my mind," Chris mumbled blurrily, still a little lost in the sensations Joe's mouth had created. I've got a houseful of apprentices almost young enough to be my get, Colin's back in town and working the North Side, and now I've got a noble born wizard-bait boy hiding in my warehouse. Add that to the hole in my roof and the whole Justin situation, and it's been something of a difficult week." He tipped his head and nipped at Joey's chin, just a small lovebite. "I seem to be much more relaxed now, though."

"You ought to be," said Joey, finding his lips for a moment, a slow, sloppy, affectionate kiss. "Relaxed enough to tell me just what this business about 'noble born wizard-bait boy' is?"

"It's Nick," Chris sighed when the kiss ended. "I'm only telling you this in strictest confidence, Joe, and I'll only tell you if you swear your eyes and ears aren't here." He knows better than to think that actual sex is all that Joseph sells: it's amazing what secrets people will spill in bed, and someone will usually pay for them. Which means that someone else is usually listening. "I knew that boy was trouble when I saw him."

"Just between you and me, Chris," Joe assured him. "We have an understanding, you and me. You didn't even have to say." Chris felt a lot more confident saying anyway. It was like a binding contract, when it was out loud and not implicit. "So pretty Nick is more than he seems, is he?"

"Oh yeah." Chris rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling. "He's nobly-born, for one thing. I'm not sure how I missed that, usually I can smell that stink from leagues away, but I thought perhaps he was the son of a merchant. But he's noble, of a large and apparently wealthy family. And here's the worst: he's the former apprentice of John the Black, assumed dead in a fire, and clearly a runaway hiding from something." He peeked at Joey for his reaction.

It wasn't often that he managed to surprise Joe, for real, but it looked like he'd succeeded this time. Joe kept stroking Chris's arm as he considered that information. "He didn't look noble," he said finally. "And usually I can spot that as well as you, old friend. He's obviously been away from the life for a while, to look that ragged. The fire was weeks ago, but perhaps he's been in a rough place even longer."

Chris shrugged minimally. "He's running from something, and I would guess it is his old master, since he's so terrified and clearly isn't *there*. Perhaps the old coot was cruel, but even so..." he shook his head. "It's all a muddled mess. Do you see what happens when I obey my nicer instincts? Messes. At least he's sorting out my warehouse, for however long he decides to stay."

"You could see he was running long before you knew what he was running from," said Joseph, and that was the honest truth. "What are you instincts saying about him now?"

"Oh, I don't know." Chris sighed, frustrated and tensing up again. "How can I trust them when I missed his nobility? Clearly, he's a good boy, and clearly, he's no danger to us directly, at least so far as I can tell. I just hate not having all the information."

"If you're letting him stay and sort out your warehouse," said Joe, leaning in to kiss his neck, slowly and smoothly, "then you already know what your instincts are saying, even if you don't have all the facts yet. Am I right?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure I trust my instincts in this case," Chris explained. "He's too pretty, and it clouds my thinking. Mmm, nice, Joe." He tipped his head back to give Joe better access. "AJ likes him, I think. He seems harmless. Those are always the ones that come back to bite you in the ass, though, and he's already offered to use unlicensed magic to fix my roof."

"Instincts are no substitute for some good, solid information," agreed Joe, "but I'd trust them over my ears any day, and I know you have good ones. I doubt he's harmless, though. Good? Probably. Harmless? Not if he trained with John the Black. Keep both your eyes and your heart open, like you always do."

"I am having trouble picturing him with John the Black," Chris admitted. "I mean, he's sort of like a big clumsy puppy. Hardly a black mage in training, and why on earth would anyone send HIM to John in the first place? I can't imagine anyone more unsuited." He tipped his head against Joey's shoulder. "Keep my eyes open? I've barely closed them since last night."

"Perhaps his family has an arrangement with John, or with the Malachians," suggested Joe. "Do you know where his family is from? What noble family does he belong to? He doesn't really resemble any that I'm familiar with, but my knowledge is limited mostly to the areas near the city. Something I'm working on, that."

"I bet you are," Chris agreed dryly. "But no, I've no idea. AJ did not want to spark any suspicions, so he was as discreet as possible. I'm sure I'd be able to find out, though, do you think it's important? Apparently they're from the coast, somewhere near...I don't remember. But coastal." He sighed. "Do you think I should keep him on?"

"John the Black was on the coast," mused Joe, and Chris wondered what conclusions he was coming to. "I can't tell you what to do, Chris," he said, "but if it was me, I would keep him on. And I'm *not* just saying it because he's one of the prettiest things I've seen in ages. My instincts tell me he's okay. You need to talk to him, though. See what he can add to what you already know."

"I've tried, and he clams up tighter than a noblewoman's chastity belt," Chris griped. "He already looks like he's three steps towards the door at any given moment; if he weren't so close to starving and freezing, I'm sure he wouldn't even have stayed the night. And the scary thing is, I'm trusting him far too fast. I met him yesterday and he's in my warehouse. Am I just...losing it for a pretty face? You can tell me honestly, Joe."

Joe gave it some thought, which Chris knew he could trust him to do. "I don't know," he said finally. "Maybe. But that's how you are with all your guys, Chris. You meet them and you get a feeling and you take them in. Sure, they usually don't have a spectacular past like that, but you usually latch on pretty quick. From the outside, this doesn't seem that different."

"Hmm." Chris made a thoughtful sound, scratching absently at Joe's shoulder, that spot that always itched. "I suppose you're right. I had Lance out on a job in three days, as soon as that wound closed. I just...I"ve never questioned it before." He chuckled a little uncomfortably. "Trust me to temporarily lose my mind over tall, blond and beautiful, huh?"

"Mmm, at least I understand it completely," admitted Joey, his infectious grin back on his face again. "It's okay to fall for him, you know. If it makes you happy, why not?" That, too, was typical Joey -- if it feels good, do it. "You always take in the ones who are most like you were, Chris," he added. "You've never realized that?"

"I was NEVER that green or that helpless," Chris protested indignantly and immediately. And honestly, Joe, what have you been drinking? These boys are as different as night and day from each other, much less from me." He shook his head. "Always were a crazy one, you. Seeing things in beautiful light." He cupped Joe's cheek fondly, and dropped a soft kiss on his lips.

Joey just smiled like he knew something Chris didn't know,; it wasn't the first time. "I've missed you," he murmured, right before Chris kissed him again. "I don't have many old friends, let alone old friends as special as you."

"Same," Chris admitted, like it was anything Joey didn't already know. "I've missed you too. We just have to get together more often, is all. You can come and see if magic has fixed my roof. And I hear you have some exquisite new boy, and the most beautiful girl, just newly with you, so I'm sure you'll have stories soon. We'll drink ale and sit by the fire and talk about all the good new times and none of the old bad." He kissed Joe one last time, drawing back reluctantly.

"So soon?" said Joe, and for one flickering moment Chris could see the sadness, or maybe wistfulness, in his face. "Talk to Nickolas, Chris. Talk to him again, and find out what he has to say. And for god's sake, make sure he keeps his magic under wraps, the last thing you need is someone coming down on you for *that*."

Chris ran a finger down Joe's nose, wanting to banish that look. "Soon, but I'm expecting you, Fatone, tomorrow for sure. If nothing else, getting to stare at Nick should bring you by more often, yes? And there'll always be a place for you at my fire and table." He made a face. "I want to stay, but by now they should be back, and bad things happen when I'm away for too long. Like structure fires. And I'll be most careful with Nick and his magic, believe me."

"Nick *and* his magic, yes," said Joe with a knowing smile. "I have things to attend to as well, seeing that my new people are settling in and such. Not as carefree as we once were, are we?"

"We're all grown up," Chris agreed, ignoring Joe's smirk. "But truly, there are compensations. I can't remember the last time I was hungry." He patted his small belly comfortably, and then patted Joe's. "Remember the starving times? It's good not to be there any more, no matter what. Now, are you going to introduce me to this new boy of yours? The one I keep hearing unbelievable things about?"

Joe lifted his eyebrows at him. "What, I was not enough?" he teased. "And I have two new boys, Chris, both with growing reputations, I'm happy to report. Which would you like to meet?"

"You're MORE than enough for me," Chris grinned at him, stretching muscles that ached pleasantly. "I just want to peek, really, because I've heard things. From Justin and AJ, at least, which doesn't mean all THAT much." He sat up and started searching for his breeches. "I've heard that Angel boy is lovely, all peaches and cream blond. But the other one is the one I'm curious about. People don't even seem to be able to describe him, they just shake their heads and sigh longingly."

"Ahhhh, Jace," said Joe, like he'd known that was who Chris was talking about all along. "Mmm, yes, that's definitely some good word of mouth. He'll be with someone right now, you'll have to follow me if you want a peek..."

"I'll follow you anywhere, Joseph," Chris said dryly, and it wasn't really all that funny, because it was true. But Joseph grinned anyway, and kissed him quickly before rolling out of bed. "And don't work him TOO hard, even if he is that incredible. Especially if. It'd be too bad if he got all hard and used-up. Not that any of your boys and girls ever do." Joe had a real talent for picking the people who took great joy and pride in their work.

"It's hard to keep him *out* of the bedroom," said Joe with laugh as he pulled his own clothing back on. "He has a gift, I'm telling you, a genuine gift. This way." Joe let him to a panel on his bedroom wall -- his private bedroom, which Chris knew he was one of few people to see -- and pushed it aside, exposing a passageway. "He's down at the end."

"Gods, this feels shady," Chris said, delighted. He was in the business of shady, after all, and nothing tickled him more than a secret passageway. "Down at the end, hmm? Let's just see." He scurried down it on completely silent feet, and peered through the shielded hole in the wall, and he would admit later and without any shame at all, his jaw dropped. He glanced back at Joe, who was grinning knowingly, and then stared some more. The customer currently between the legs of one of the most beautiful men Chris had ever seen looked like he would be leaving a big tip. If he could be convinced to leave at all. Chris's mouth was completely dry.

"I've had the pleasure," murmured Joe, to softly for the sound to carry further than Chris's ears, "and it's even better than it look like it is. And Jace is perhaps one of the sweetest people I've ever known. He's a treasure."

Jace tossed his head back and closed his eyes, firm muscle rippling in his legs and arms as he convulsed under his lover, his face a mask of joy. "It can't be better than it looks," Chris muttered disbelievingly. "That's just not possible." He watched for a few moments more, then had to turn away before he found himself begging Joe for a turn. "He IS a treasure, Joe. Incredible. And sweet too? Gods."

"Sweet as sugar," Joe assured him, taking Chris's arm to lead him back up the passage. "You know I won't take them if they don't have the temperament, Chris. No matter if they're as beautiful as your Nick is. He just runs to the sweet end of it more than the surly or the impish."

"Well, you got lucky there, then," Chris declared. "You should snap him up for yourself, except your revenue would probably drop significantly. He's going to have suitors lined up out the door, clamoring for his favors and attention." He shook his head, smiling a little. "Nick would be miserable with you, he's just not made for it. Even though I'd have to put him and Jace next to each other, to determine the more beautiful."

"Jace does not wish to be snapped up by just one lover," said Joseph with a wry grin. "He's uniquely suited to this life, I think. He enjoys his variety. He's never yet been displeased with anyone I've sent to him. Nick... are you even sure he's taken his pleasure of ANYone? It's possible, you know, that he hasn't. He's young, and from a different life than the one we know."

"He claims he has," Chris shrugged, skeptical and not afraid to show it. "He is all bluster about a lot of things, though. Brave enough under it, but I think he's still trying to stay afloat, desperately. But even the nobility fuck, Joseph, as you should well know, and he's got at least seventeen summers, so chances are good that he has. I should give him a gift once he finishes my warehouse, though, perhaps I'll send him to you. Or Jace." He glances back down the corridor before Joe closes the door.

"Everyone does," agreed Joe, eventually. "He wouldn't be the first noble son just reaching adulthood that's come here for his first experience, though. If we got him and Jace together, I could probably retire on the money I could make just letting people watch."

Chris snorted agreement, unwilling to admit that he'd be a happily paying customer himself. "He'd never forgive you, I think. He's a bit, hmm, repressed or something. Probably comes of being locked up in a castle for his entire apprenticeship." He shrugged on his coat and leaned in for a long, sweet kiss. "I must run. I will see you soon, though?" It was part command, part plea, part question.

"Wild horses couldn't keep me from your doorstep and another fine meal from your cook. I do hope your roof will be fixed if we choose to share your bed, though. My arse isn't used to the cold." Joey gave him another quick kiss and patted Chris's ass on his way out of the room.

Chris snickered at him, and almost jogged home, feeling warm and sated and quite comfortable all over. Still, the wind was biting cold, and by the time he shoved through his door and into the pleasant heat of his house, his cheeks and fingers were tingling. He hoped AJ had remembered to buy Nick a coat before dragging him home. "Lance!" he called out, stamping snow off his boots and shedding his cloak. "AJ, Justin, Nick? Who's home?"

"I am," came Manda's voice; a moment later she appeared, carrying a cup of steaming tea to him. "Lance and Justin are eating -- or something in the kitchen -- and AJ went out and... Nick is it? That pretty blond boy? He's upstairs. I told him to keep his pretty behind out of your chambers, too."

"Lovely," Chris sighed, accepting the tea gratefully. "Upstairs where, Manda? And thank you for defending my chambers, but that's really not necessary. How are you? How was the job? You're home a whole day early. Did you get the necklace?" He ushered her back towards the kitchen, where he could at least sit while she told him about the job.

"Upstairs I don't know where," she said, padding gracefully back into the kitchen. "But not in your chambers. He said he had things he needed to do; I thought perhaps he just wanted to be alone." She raised her voice for a moment. "Justin! Lance! Be decent, we're coming in!"

Chris found himself raising his eyebrows; he hadn't known about that. It just figured, though, and it was hardly a surprise, so he just followed her in. "Thank you," he offered Justin and Lance gravely; they were looking suspiciously pink and flushed, but sitting well apart from each other. "Now, Manda. No more evasions. Necklace, yes or no, and if no, why not?" Justin made a soft "ooooh" sound under his breath and sat forward. He was probably interested in someone besides himself being in trouble for once.

She made a face as she slumped down onto a stool. "Someone beat me to it," she admitted softly, regretfully. "The job went perfectly, too, right up to the point where there was no necklace. Such a damn shame. You think it was one of Colin's boys?"

"Fuck." Chris made a face and nudged Lance over on the bench, slumping down onto it and thinking hard. "Maybe. Maybe yes, maybe no, this is outside his usual boundaries. Still, I'll have a talk with him."

"Bring Erd," Lance warned, frowning at him. "Colin plays rough, remember, and he might be short, but so are you." Justin went "oooh" again.

"Thank you," Chris smacked the back of Lance's head, but gently. "And you, Justin, close your mouth. You are still not in my good graces, nor will you be for some time. Manda...good work, not your fault. I'll find out if AJ can discover anything. After all, he did find the necklace in the first place."

"I told him when I got in," said Manda, grabbing herself a piece of fruit off the table, but just picking at it. "I think that's probably where he's at right now, since when I got here he was busy with that pretty Nick boy."

"He's strange," said Lance, nodding his head. "Not AJ, Nick. He's a strange one."

"He's...well." Chris sighed a little. "He'll be around for a while. He's not like you street rats, so take it easy on him, I've hired him to be our clerk and I'll be very upset if one of you runs him off. You need a letter written, he's your boy." He reached out and grabbed some bread and cheese himself.

"I don't like him," Justin declared. "He's too..." he waved his hands in the air, "...pretty, or something. I don't trust him. He's soft."

"Well, you're soft in the *head*," Chris shot back, scowling him into silence. "Trying to steal the magistrate's son's ruby cufflinks, indeed. And if that's your jealousy speaking, you'd best learn to control it, since you'll be assisting him in the warehouse if he needs it. You're off the streets for another two weeks, boyo."

"What?" said Justin, scowling back at him. "No, that's not fair--"

Lance clamped a hand over his mouth before Justin could say something he would regret. "He's off hiding upstairs, he didn't want to spend any time with us down here. Too good for us, maybe."

"Or maybe he just didn't want to have to watch you two with your hands all over each other," Manda shot back at him. "You're shameless."

"I think he might just be shy," Chris offered, and was answered with snickers all 'round. "Yes, well, not all of us could be gifted with Justin's sparkling wit. He's a bit spooky, but I think he'll settle in all right. Don't provoke him." He punctuated that with a stern look at all of them. "Any problems, bring to me. And please, you two, try to keep anything explicit out of the kitchen." He sighed. "People do try to eat in here." He pushed away from the table, determined to find Nick.

There was only one door closed on the second floor, and after glancing in the other rooms, Chris carefully cracked it open. Sure enough, Nick was seated on the middle of the floor, singing softly, intensely. Chris could actually see bits of the roof mending themselves as he did. He knew every magician had a different means to channel their powers -- some used gestures, some wands, some words -- but he'd never seen anyone use song before. Never even really imagined it could be done that way. He stood transfixed by it for a long time, until Nick paused and lowered his head for a moment, and the progress halted.

Chris didn't want to interrupt, wasn't sure when it would be safe to, but after a long moment of silence he cleared his throat quietly. "Nickolas? Do you want me to go, for a while? I can leave you alone..." he couldn't take his eyes off Nick.

Nick's head shot up at the sound of Chris's voice, a quick jerk up and back over his shoulder that had of have hurt his neck. "Chris," he said a moment later, looking relieved if still edgy. "It's... I'm taking a break, it's fine. I thought I should get started on this; there's a lot to do."

"Does that take a lot of energy?" Chris, irresistibly curious, stepped further into the room, looking at the much-smaller hole in the roof. "I mean, you make it look easy, it's not that. But how much can you do before you start getting tired?" He didn't get too close to Nick, he knew better than to invade someone's personal space when they looked that nervous. Especially someone who could turn him into a mouse, theoretically.

"It takes some," said Nick, turning his head to look back up at the roof. "I should've been done this room by now, but... " He gestured down at his body vaguely. "I'm a little run down. I guess I don't have the energy reserves I used to. I should probably maybe eat some more, or something."

"Don't worry about it," Chris said, easing a little closer. He was relieved to see that someone had given the boy shoes. "There's no rush, and there's certainly enough food downstairs. Come down, eat something. You can finish this later, tomorrow even, and in the meantime, tell me about my warehouse. You did, after all, just almost freeze to death. Don't push too hard just yet."

"I need to come back up and finish this before morning," said Nick as he let Chris help him to his feet. "Or it'll look very strange from the outside. You can't tell in the darkness, though. Are... um. Is everyone else still downstairs?"

"Probably," Chris said comfortably, holding the door open for him. "Did AJ find you all right, and get you everything you needed? Nick," he added, seeing Nick's hesitant expression, "they're just kids, just like you. Stand up to them. You have just as much right to be here as they do, and they respect strength. You'll be fine."

NIck just nodded his head and scratched his arm; it looked red and raw already, from the cold. "It's been a rough couple weeks," he said after a moment. "Yeah, AJ got me settled in okay. I, uh, I was going to fix your room first. You know, the roof? But that girl yelled at me and pinched my arm. Then I figured I would wait for you to be home. Once I eat something and warm up a little, I can get it done tonight, too. I can get both done before dawn."

"Oh, Manda?" Chris smiled a little and shook his head. "She's a little protective, I guess. Don't worry about it, you can go into my room whenever." That came out a little differently than he'd intended, and he cleared his throat. "But regardless, you're not doing any more tonight. I know exhausted when I see it, and it's the first thing I teach my crews...work done tired is work done sloppy, so it's better to wait and rest."

"I have to finish the first room, still," insisted Nick. "Once I've eaten. I'm not careless enough to leave an obviously magicked hole in your roof, *that* would be sloppy. The finished work will look like you had a work crew fix it. But partway, it's not the same at all."

"Okay, this room," Chris relented, seeing the logic. "But just this one. Then I can pile people in here to sleep, with a nice fire, and that'll be more than enough for tonight. Now come on, there's food waiting downstairs, and it's warmer down there. You're turning blue again, you should have at least worn your coat in there." He cut himself off, realizing he sounded like a mother.

"Too hard to work with the coat on," argued Nick. The further they got away from where he'd been working, the more animated he seemed to get. "Fixing the roof is more delicate than you think. You have to do each layer of it right, to make it match. It's even harder than creating something whole. It looked good, though, huh?"

"It looked perfect," Chris agreed with a smile. "I'm pretty amazed. So, did John teach you that, or did you pick it up on your own? I admit I don't know much about magic, but that looks pretty complex to me, for someone your age." He kept his tone deliberately light, curious, casual.

Nick stumbled on the first stair as Chris asked him that. Stumbled and went reeling end over end down to the first landing where he lay still as a corpse for a few moments. Just long enough for Chris to catch up to him. When he did, Nick hauled himself up by the railing -- obviously in pain -- and backed away toward the second set of stairs.

"I knew it!" he shouted at him, eyes wide and terrified in spite of the anger in his voice. "I knew I couldn't trust anyone! I'm not going to let you sell me back to them. Get away from me!"

"Shhh, hush," Chris said softly, but with the note of command in his voice that always worked on panicking youngsters, locking eyes with him and not letting him look away. "Nickolas, stop right there, don't walk another step. No one is selling you anywhere, you're staying right here, I swear it." He eased close as Nick stood frozen and latched on to his wrist in a lightning-quick move perfected by years of practice, hauling him forward away from the edge of the stairs. And he didn't let go. "Relax. You're still safe here, no matter what."

Nick was so still and tense Chris was afraid he would snap. 'I've hear that before," he said, his voice gone dead and flat. "Everything I could offer you wan't good enough, was it? You just wanted more, you just wanted the gold John could offer you. Who did you get to send word I was here? Was it AJ?"

"Nick." Chris gentled his voice even further, moving in, closing the space between them until Nick had to acknowledge him. "No one is selling you anywhere. No one knows you're here but us, and Joseph, and Joe wouldn't tell a soul, not for any money. Hey, listen to me." He shook Nick's shoulder briefly. "You don't trust me, that's fine. Think about it this way: if I was really holding you, waiting to exchange you for gold, would I have told you I knew? Or would I have let you just keep on calmly until John showed up to fetch you? I'm not stupid, Nickolas."

Nick was silent for a moment, heaving breaths in and out through his nose. Finally he shuddered and let some of the tension out of his body. The noise had brought the others out of the kitchen to investigate, and they stood quietly on the far side of the room, not interrupting.

"He can't ever know I'm here," Nick whispered finally. "I should leave. It's not safe for you."

"Eh." Chris shrugged, letting some of his own quivering altertness dissipate. "We're thieves, Nick, we live in danger every day. Now come here and sit down a second." He tugged Nick down to a seat on the step, settling beside him, their shoulders pressed together. "You want to tell me about it? Most burdens are lighter when shared, and who knows, I might even be able to help." Also, he was burningly curious about details, but he left that part out.

Nick shuddered again, and Chris couldn't miss that he was favouring his right leg. "It would be safer for you if you didn't," he said again. "I just want it known that I said that, that I told you. What do you know already?"

Chris draped a careful arm around Nick's shoulders, hoping it would help with the shivering and the fear. "Not much, really. Just that you're dead, apparently, in a fire, and that you were apprenticed to John the Black. That you have a large and noble family. And that you're hiding harder than anyone I've ever seen before. You can fill in the holes for me, if you want."

Nick just nodded for a moment, not filling in any holes at all. Then he let out a heavy sigh and started talking. "I was apprenticed to him when I was twelve," he said, "as soon as I showed an aptitude for magic. It was younger than anyone had ever been apprenticed to a mage before, my family was so proud. Especially since I was firstborn son. To be a magician and a landowner was to have great power. I hope... I hope they didn't know what they were getting me into. But I fear they did."

Chris winced a little. He'd heard any number of stories from people whose masters had not treated them well; powerless, apprentices had no choice but to take their lot and live with it. "I take it you weren't happy," he prodded gently, tightening his arm a little. "And that was many years ago."

"It was okay," Nick said, though. "He was... he was powerful and feared, yes, but he was also a very good teacher. And if you ignored the contracts he took, the kinds of things he did, he seemed like a decent enough man. He developed me almost to my full potential... and I'm not bragging when I say that I say I had high potential. The most of anyone he'd ever seen, John told me, and he's a man who's stingy with his compliments."

"So, he's a decent man, mostly, and a good teacher." Chris could feel his brows knitting in puzzlement. "I'm afraid I'm still not understanding what you're running from, here. Did you have some kind of falling out?"

"He *seemed* like a decent man," Nick stressed, which Chris had to agree wasn't quite the same thing. "I found out entirely by accident, too, what he was planning. It wasn't because I was clever or devious. He'd been... there was this contract he had, a long-term contract. It was one of the only things he never told me about, he said it was because his client wanted privacy. It started shortly after I became his apprentice, just weeks. Two months ago, I was in the right place at the right time, and I overheard them."

Chris got an unpleasant feeling in his stomach, a sure sign that he wouldn't like what he heard next. "I'm guessing it wasn't good, if he was keeping it from you," he prompted, not looking at Nick directly, but keeping him pressed close to his side. "Bad enough to inspire you to burn his castle down?"

"I shouldn't be telling you," murmured Nick, but he seemed unable to stop now that Chris had gotten him started on spilling his secrets. "There's this..." He shuddered again, so violently that Chris's arm shook with him. "There's this spell, this powerful spell. It's forbidden everywhere, so forbidden that people can't even talk about it. It... it requires a great deal of power, so much that a mage has to sacrifice himself to cast it. Not just any mage, either; only the most powerful would ever be able to make it work." He closed his eyes tightly. "It's a spell to raise the dead, Chris. All of them, everywhere. Only John wasn't going to sacrifice himself to do it, he was going to sacrifice me. He was going to kill me to raise himself an undead army."

Chris blinked, trying to process that. "Why?" Was the first thing he blurted out. "I mean...gods. Sacrifice you?" He squeezed Nick a little more tightly. "To raise an undead army. To...take over...I can't imagine what. The king is secure on his thone, the people would never be ruled by a necromancer. At least, I don't think they would. Is the man mad?" He shook his head again. "You escaped, though. You got away."

"It wasn't for him," said Nick quietly. "It was for his client. His client, the king of Malachia, his homeland. First John's arm sweeps through our land, destroying everything we love. Then his king benevolently comes in to clean up the mess. Nice and tidy." Nick opened his eyes and hissed out a breath. "I destroyed it all, though -- his notes, his preparations, his spells. I destroyed everything, including the apprentice he paid a handsome sum of gold for."

"Well, except that you kind of didn't, that last part," Chris pointed out logically, though his head was still swimming with new knowledge. "You survived, you're here. And even if everyone thinks you're dead, you're not. You're very much alive." He turned a little, catching Nick's eye. "And you've done something quite splendid, saving the realm and all. Heroic. I feel like I should be giving you a medal." He offered Nick a little grin.

"You think I wasn't destroyed in that fire too?" said Nick solemnly. "I can never practice magic openly now. I was betrothed, and now I'll never have that. I'll never speak to my family again. I have nothing left of that life. The Nickolas that you're talking to is not the same Nickolas that was John's apprentice. He's dead."

"Hmm." Chris thought about that. "Well, you've come to the right place, boy. We're all of us here starting over, except me. Everyone here has a story and a past, maybe not as dramatic as yours, but a story nonetheless. You've got a new life ahead of you. The old one is gone, yes, and I'm sorry about that...with your intended, and all. And your family, those two things must be the worst. Are you sure you cannot tell them?"

"He can never get word that I'm alive," said Nick firmly. "Not ever. And I'm not at all sure my parents didn't know all along, why I was important to him. No, I cannot. They have a second son, Aaron will take over the family lands and that will be that."

"And your intended bride?" Chris pressed gently, his heart strangely heavy. "Surely she would want to hear that you'd survived. It's your decision, though, and I'll respect it either way. No one will learn that you're here from anyone in this house. And if John thinks you're dead, he most probably wouldn't even think to search for you. Who searches for the dead, after all?"

"The same kind of person who raises them?" suggested Nick bitterly. "I was betrothed when I was eight, Chris. She wasn't dear to me, though she was sweet and beautiful. She was chosen by my parents long before I was chosen by John; she may easily have known as much as they did."

"I somehow doubt he was publicizing his plan to raise the dead," Chris noted dryly. "Especially not to an eight year old girl. But you're right, cautious is best. So you'll have to stay here, lie low, and start over." He thumped Nick's shoulder encouragingly. "You can do it, if you simply make up your mind to it. Our guild prizes secrecy over all, so there's no better place for you, really." He stood, then, and extended his hand down to Nick. "And you're still without your supper. We should fix that before making any great plans."

Nick stumbled down another stair when he tried to get up. "You want me to stay?" he said, like he couldn't quite believe that was true. "After all of that, you want me to remain here?"

Chris wondered if Nick had perhaps been dropped on his head as a child, and gave him a look that was supposed to convey that thought. "I told you you had a place here no matter what," he settled for saying simply. "I don't lie. Well, I do, yes, but only for work, usually. Of course you're staying."

"John's still out there," said Nick slowly. "He'll always be out there." He swayed every time he tried to move, and looked on the verge of collapse, with half a flight of stairs to go.

"Hells," Chris swore, catching him under the elbow. "You're shaky as a new colt. Justin!" Justin bolted to his side at the call, and took Nick's other side. "We're taking him to the parlor. Lance, drag the chaise in close to the fire, and Manda, warm watered wine and meat, bread and cheese." His apprentices scattered efficiently and silently, and he and Justin eased Nick down the steps.

"You can't let me sleep," said Nick, even his voice sounding weak, like telling his story had sapped the last of his energy from him. Between that and the fall down the stairs, he was not in good shape. "I have to finish the roof."

"Fuck the roof," Chris said curtly. "I'll send Justin and AJ up to slap some boards over the hole, no one will even notice. You are not moving, you're going to sit there and eat your food, drink your wine and warm up. You're in some kind of shock, I think." He and Justin maneuvered Nick into the parlor and onto the chaise, and Justin dashed off to fetch a blanket without even having to be asked.

"I'm not," insisted Nick, sinking into the soft chair with an audible sigh of relief. "I'll be okay, I just need to... need to get my energy back up."

"You look terrible," said Lance, shaking his head, saying what Chris didn't. "What were you doing up there anyway?"

"Fixing the roof," Chris said, with a glare at Nick. Worry always made him angry. "When he should have been resting, he was fixing the roof. Getting your energy back up, pshaw. You're not getting off that couch again tonight." He pulled over a short stool to place near Nick's hand, and piled the food and wine there, as Justin dropped the blanket over Nick from behind. "Now, eat, and rest."

"Fixing the roof?" Justin sounded appalled. "But it's *snowing.*"

"That's why I was fixing the roof," said Nick, with the patience of the exhausted. "Because it's only going to get colder until I do, and I said I would. I can finish at least one room tonight, I just need to eat more. It's the first time I've..." He glanced up at Chris, as though asking how much he should say. "...done anything that hard in weeks. I just need to replenish."

"You're not finishing anything tonight." How many more times was Chris going to have to repeat that, he wondered? "You're staying right here. Justin, Lance, Nick's a...huh. Well, he's an ex-apprentice-mage, and he was magicking our roof closed, and he overdid just a bit. Do me a favor, go up and throw some boards over the hole, outside? One or two nails should hold the whole thing together."

"But it's *SNOWING!*" Justin's level of appalled had risen about tenfold. "And it's dark!"

"Think of it as practice for the next time you need to make a daring rooftop escape," Chris said, with an edge. "Now go."

Justin didn't look pleased, but both he and Lance were out the door a few moments later. They knew how to tell when Chris was being serious.

"I didn't know," said Manda softly from nearby. "I'm sorry, I didn't know, please don't... please don't hurt me." She was looking at Nick, not Chris, but Nick hardly seemed to notice. "Please don't do anything terrible to me."

"Oh, by all the gods and goddesses." Chris dropped his head into his hands for a long moment, before raising it again. "He's not going to hurt you, kitten. He's a nice boy, who's fixing our roof for us, all right? That's all. He won't do anything terrible to anyone, I swear. Now how about you go see about some tea?" He mustered up a gentle smile for her. She was clearly honestly terrified.

"As long as you don't pinch me again," murmured Nick, which did *not* help matters any. Manda practically fled the room, hopefully in search of that tea.

"Nick..." he broke off, with no idea what to say. Instead, he sat on the edge of the chaise Nick was curled up on, warming himself by the fire as well, handing Nick the goblet of wine and the plate piled with food. "Well, this has been an eventful night. I wonder when AJ will be back? He's probably the most laid-back apprentice I've got."

"How did you know?" asked Nick quietly, sipping carefully at the wine, his hand shaking for the first time Chris could remember seeing. "How did you know who I was?"

"AJ," Chris said simply. "I had to know, you know. You were so obviously running from something, and I had to know if whatever it was was going to hurt me or my kids, so I sent AJ to find out some things." He shrugged a little. "After hearing the stories, and talking to you, I've decided you're worth the risk." He reached out and steadied the goblet.

Nick closed his eyes as Chris curled his hand over Nick's. "I'm glad at least one of us is convinced," he said. "There hasn't been a day since then that I haven't wondered if it wouldn't have been better to have just let the fire consume me, too."

Chris rolled his eyes a little at that kind of heathenish defeatest thinking. "Alive is always better, if your choices are alive or dead. Alive, you've got options. Dead, there are no options left." He rubbed his tumb over Nick's wrist. "I'll keep kicking till they hang me, and I expect nothing less from my apprentices."

"Well I did, obviously," Nick pointed out. "I'm still here, telling you this, after all. But it hasn't been easy, and it's hurt so many people..."

"I don't see how," Chris frowned at him a little. "I mean, sure, John, but it sounds like he deserved it. Your family and your betrothed, but in the doing you saved so many others, Nick. The balance is definitely in your favor."

Nick didn't look convinced, but he did sit quietly and sip his wine for a few moments. "The last month has been hard," he said again finally. "I thought I was wordly, when I was under John's tutelage. I was wrong."

"Well, you're young yet," Chris said, trying to be bracing. "It's all right to learn as you go, as long as you *do* learn. And you're having to learn faster than most, but you seem to be standing up to it well. And." He patted Nick's shoulder gently. "You did well, you know."

Nick snorted, which was actually a good sign, given his state. He put the wine down and started eating what had been left for him. "I got lucky," he said. "But I'll take it. And you should have let me finish with the roof, Chris. I know what I'm capable of. I depleted myself, yes, but after this meal and a nap, I'll be in decent enough shape again."

"If you *keep* depleting yourself, as you put it, you'll never get back to full strength," Chris pointed out. "I think any napping you do right now should extend to a regular night's sleep. You can do it first thing in the morning, if you're so terribly concerned. No more falling down the stairs, though; I'm really too old for that kind of drama." He sighed extravagantly, and threw himself into the armchair.

"Then no more surprises when I'm standing at the top of the stairs," Nick shot back, giving Chris a look that might even have been the beginnings of a grin. "And you're not old. You're not even close to old."

"I'm actually quite old," Chris argued, a little dryly. "Probably ten years on you, anyway, which is ancient for someone in this profession. But I won't leave it till I'm carried off on the knacker's cart, so I must keep my hand in somehow. It's why I keep you whippersnappers around." He did grin at Nick, then.

Nick's smile grew fractionally. "*I* don't think you're old," he insisted again. "Old is, like... my parents are old. John is old. You're young."

"I'm *old*," Chris insisted, his grin widening. "Ask Justin if you don't believe me. Old as the hills, older than the stars. But that's all right, since I get to pass along my hard-earned wisdom to you children. It's compensation enough for the winter aches."

"I think Justin would even think *I'm* old," said Nick, reaching for more food, and Chris wondered if he was finally getting to see a bit of who Nick really was, or really had been once, now that he was really starting to believe he could stay. Intelligent, educated and independent. "Your 'children' are a handful, and I don't s'pose me showing up is helping matters any."

"Eh." Chris waved his hand dismissively. "They're like cats. Each one of them got hissed and growled at when they first came, so of course they all pass it on to the next newcomer. You'll be fine, once they've adjusted a bit. I won't deny the handful part, not even a bit, but to survive in this trade you must be quick, in mind as well as body. I wouldn't have them any other way." He swiped a piece of cheese from Nick's plate, and munched it happily, pleased to see that Nick was eating.

"I *will* do everything for you I can," said Nick, more conversationally than desperately now. "I owe you that much, and more. I don't think you know how much what you've done for me means to me. And I don't think you know just what I may be able to do to help you."

"Nickolas." Chris looked at him, affectionate and exasperated and a little nervous all at once. "All I want you to do is organize my warehouse. Magic is a tricky and unreliable thing, in my experience, no matter how talented the mage. Fix my roof and have done, boy, especially if you want to stay hidden. And if you could refrain from turning Justin into something nasty, even when he gets completely annoying, that would be much appreciated."

"I didn't mean like that," Nick persisted, swallowing his mouthful before continuing. "Nothing... nothing like that. I don't do that, I wouldn't even if it *weren't* stupid. But don't tell me it wouldn't be a handy thing to have some healing elixer on hand all the time. Full-strength, not the piss they overcharge you for on the street. Herbalist magicks are one of the first things I mastered."

"Oh, hmmm." Chris's eyes widened a little as new possibilities opened up to him. "What about sleep potions? Can you turn lead into gold?" His eyes got even wider. "Am I going to be able to retire?"

"Chris, *no* one can turn lead into gold," laughed Nick. His first laugh. "Well, yet, anyway. But believe me, we all try. Sleep potions?" He seemed like he was thinking about it for a moment. "Yes, yes I can do that, but they're not as easy to use as you might think. Have you ever bought one? They're pricey, too."

"We tend to do things the old fashioned, sneaky way around here," Chris admitted, sighing and relaxing back. "Sleep potions are too unreliable, usually, and you never know how long they'll last. Same with confusion charms. I train my crews to take no chances, to take every angle into account, and to never use shortcuts. Potions are usually shortcuts."

Nick nodded; Chris hadn't been sure he would agree. "Well, notice how the healing elixer is what I thought to offer you," he pointed out. "Confusion charms only ever really work on the weak-minded." He looked like he was going to say something else, and looked faintly embarrassed about it. "Um. The reason they're unreliable is mostly because you buy them on the street market, and never really know the quality of the mage who mixed them. I think I mentioned that I'm... well, pretty powerful? It makes a difference. So if you do need something? Like, really need something? You would be better to come to me, even though I'm not licensed. Will never be."

"Well, now that I have you here, you'll definitely be my first stop," Chris agreed. "Oh, can you tell if something, an item usually, is spelled or magicked? Because every once in a while, we run across something that gives Lance the heebies, and we usually won't take it with us. He's been our barometer so far, but I'd love to have a more accurate gauge than Lance's gooseflesh before we leave behind, say, a gold and ruby signet." He patted Nick on the shoulder again. "Have you thought of forging a license?"

"Lance is Sensitive?" said Nick curiously, breaking open a roll and offering Chris half. "That's interesting. Yes, it's very easy to detect something like that. Wouldn't take me but a minute." He chewed on the bread thoughtfully, at Chris's other question he presumed. "It's not easy to forge a license to practice magic. They can *tell*. And it certainly wouldn't help me lay low. Maybe in a few years..."

"Huh, we always just thought Lance was strange. No, don't forge the license right away," Chris agreed, taking the roll and piling meat on it. "Later. After John meets his too-long-delayed end, perhaps. I have a nodding acquaintance with the head of the assassin's guild..." he trailed off thoughtfully, then shook his head. "We can discuss that later, right now we must get you sworn into thieves guild, and you've got to bring an offering."

"A what now?" said Nick, pausing with the rest of the roll halfway through his mouth. "I thought I was just supposed to be your clerk..."

"Well, yes," Chris nodded. "My clerk who is also a member of the guild. Because you *can't* be my clerk unless you are. Don't worry about it, the offering is symbolic, mostly. But it has to be stolen, all on your own and without aid." He grinned and slapped Nick's thigh. "Don't worry. It'll be fun!"

Nick just stared at him, obviously alarmed. "I'm a *terrible* thief," he said, shaking his head. "Isn't that what got me here in the first place?"

"Well, yes." Chris looked at him with mild consternation. Surely he'd stolen *something* successfully in his life. "But you were half-frozen and exhausted and starved, that would throw anyone off. I'm sure you can find something to pilfer, it doesn't have to be particularly valuable. It's more the principle of the thing."

Nick just looked pale, though he finally did nod. "Well, if I don't have a choice, I will," he said firmly, if softly. "I'll find a way. I'm not clumsy all the time, after all."

"No, you're not," Chris agreed, though he glanced at the leg Nick had injured while tumbling down the stairs. "And I have great faith in your determination, at least, and you've proved your industry to me already. And you're clearly quite brilliant, so I'm sure you will be more than equal to the task. But that's for another day." He banked the fire carefully, dimming it down to a hot glow, and handed Nick another pillow. "Now, it's time to sleep. Rest yourself, or you'll be no good to anyone tomorrow."

"Am I to sleep here again?" asked Nick, throwing back the last of his wine, as though already steeling himself for his initiation. "I feel like a nuisance in here. Where does everyone else stay?"

"Here and there," Chris answered vaguely, though it was mostly true now that the roof had holes. "Manda and Justin have cots in my chamber for tonight, since mine is the most intact, and AJ will sleep wherever he lights. Lance may sleep in here on the floor, or in the kitchen behind the stove, where it's warm. Once the roof is repaired, Lance and AJ have one chamber, Manda and Justin the other, with Pink, my most experienced, in a chamber of her own. She's rarely here, though, and you'll probably take her chamber. She's betrothed," he added, when Nick looked puzzled.

"Does that mean she'll be leaving you?" Nick asked him, tucking his feet up under him on the chair. "Is that all of your people, or just the ones who are still apprenticed? Do others still report to you, as guildmaster? They must, I suppose. I don't know how a guild like this works... it's so different from the magician's guild..."

"She will leave me, at least for a time, since she is moving to another city," Chris nodded, settling down himself in the dim warmth of the parlor. "All my people still report to me, though I'm only the guildmaster for the city, not the state. The ones here, these are my own personal apprentices." He waved a hand around. "There are other master thieves in the city, but they're here with my approval and operate under my rules. More or less." He sighed at the thought of Colin, the rogue. "They've got apprentices of their own, and we all report more or less to the Guildmaster Thief, in the capital city. But he doesn't care much what we do, as long as there's no scandal and things run smoothly."

"I saw empty rooms upstairs," Nick noted. "Before I began to fix the roof. They looked recently used. Do you have other people stay here sometimes? People who are not apprentices? I only ask, because I want to know who to be wary of. Your apprentices know I can work magic, but everyone else will not."

"I have more and less apprentices at any given time," Chris nodded. "Sometimes as many as eight, but never more than that. But it's a large house, and when I entertain guests it's good to have a place to offer them. Travelling guildmasters can stay here if they choose at any time, and friends, of course, thieves or not. I would be careful, using magic, no matter what." He slouched down in the chair and watched Nick, curled on the chaise under the blanket. "Will you need another blanket, do you think?"

"I'm warm," murmured Nick, sounding much more comfortable and very sated. He'd stopped shaking entirely. "I'll finish my work in the morning, I think, if you're sure it will be okay. Or evening, as the case may be. Will you be warm enough, in your own room?"

"It wasn't so many years ago that *I* was the one sleeping under the bridge, and four walls and even part of a roof is still rich luxury," Chris answered, with a little smile. "Not that I won't be delighted when it's repaired, but in the meantime, I'll survive more than comfortably with my featherbed." He pushed himself to his feet, checked the fire one more time, and made his way towards the door. "Sleep well, Nick."

"Sleep well, Chris," said Nick, from within his cocoon of blankets. "And thank you. Again, thank you."

"You're welcome," Chris called back, quietly. He wouldn't belittle Nick by refusing to accept his gratitude, and now he just hoped the boy could get his strength back quickly. Chris wasn't one to baby his apprentices, but Nick had looked far too pale that evening. He closed the door behind him, and trudged up towards his room, reminding himself to talk to Manda the next day. She never had brought that tea.

* * *

Nick blew the dust off yet another silver chalice and tried to read the inscription, but it was too worn from years of use to see. At least, not in the dim light he had to work with. If he was going to be working in this warehouse for as long as he thought he was, he was going to have to do something about that.

"Did you steal this from a cathedral?" he asked Justin, rubbing his thumb over an indentation where a jewel should have been. Ruby, Nick though. "You must have. How many is that now?"

"*I* didn't steal it at all," Justin grumped. "That old stuff's been here from before even Chris was around. He just inherited it, I guess, or something, I think. Anyway, that's..." he checked behind him at the pile, before taking a long draw on the canteen he held. "That's twelve of those cup things."

"Chalices," Nick corrected him, looking back over his shoulder at the mess of them Justin had made. "Someone thought the jewels were the only valuable bits. They were wrong." He handed Justin the one he was holding, leaving finger smears in the remaining dust, and put another mark on his ledger. When he picked up the next object from the crate, a knife also robbed of its jewels, he felt a queer, familiar tingling up his arm. "This one is magic."

Justin jumped back almost a foot, watching him and the knife warily. "How, magic?" he finally asked, still keeping a far distance. "That doesn't LOOK valuable. Neither do the cup things. Yikes, keep that thing pointed the other way!" He scowled at Nick threateningly. "I don't want to be a little pile of dust here, you know. It's bad enough I'm stuck in this old museum, it'd be insult on injury if you turned me into a radish by *accident* or something."

Nick scowled at him -- how was it these people knew *nothing* about how magic worked? "I'm not going to do anything to you by *accident*," he said, running a finger down the length of the blade. It was a small knife, and unremarkable in every other way. He couldn't tell what it was used for, but he would set it aside to study later. "This is why Chris has me in here, because I know what these things are. I know what's valuable." It wasn't the whole truth, but Nick liked to think it was part of it. It made him feel more like he had a place in a *thieves'* guild.

Justin just rolled his eyes and perched on a table, one leg dangling in the air. "None of it's valuable, or it would've been sold off ages ago," he argued, not entirely without logic. "Though I guess it's *one* reason why Chris wants you here." He leered suggestively for a moment before taking another drink. "Hey, you want?" He offered the canteen to Nick.

Nick put the knife down and turned around. "What is it?" he asked, taking the canteen tentatively. "And if there's another reason Chris wants me here, I don't know what it is. I haven't been much more than a nuisance, so far."

Justin rolled his eyes again and shoved the canteen at Nick. "It's just wine," he said, a little impatiently. "It'll warm you up, in this cold old place. Hey, listen, can you make love potions and suchlike? Because there's this boy..." he licked his lips and looked dreamy for a moment. "He's delicious, but he won't give me time of day. ME! So I've been looking into love potions, but they're all expensive and not guaranteed."

Nick blushed as he took the canteen, unaccustomed to people talking to him about their desires like that. "Thank you," he said, before taking a sip. It was definitely *not* watered down. "Um. Love potions don't work very well, actually. They mostly just enhance what's already there. Who's this, um, boy? It's a boy? That you like."

"Do you always blush like that when anyone talks about sex?" Justin took the canteen back. "God, you must be from the country. Anyway, he's just a boy. Man, I guess, he's all pretty and mmmm, but I don't have the money for him, so I'd need to be a freebie. But he works for Joey, so, I need the love potion." He sulked a little. "I just wanna try him, see what everyone's screaming about. I mean, seriously. No one can be that good."

"You're in love with a whore?" Nick blurted out, without thinking. "I mean. You know what I mean. It's... I'm sorry. I can't help you. You'll just have to get by on your own charms, which I'm sure aren't inconsiderable."

"I'm not in *love* with him," Justin said, scandalized, his cheeks flushing a little. "Not with *him*, with...nevermind. But I still want to try him out." He shook his hips a little, taking another long drink. "He's all the talk right now, man, even you must've heard. I mean, considering he works for *Joey*, and he's getting all that talk, he must be wow." Justin picked up an enamelled box, playing with the catch. "What's this?"

"There are darts inside, if you open it they will prick you and kill you," Nick said, just because he could. "Joey. Hmm. Joey was... are you all like that? So... open, about your relations? Chris didn't seem to be."

"That's because Chris is old," Justin said casually, though he set the box down quickly and carefully and pushed it away from himself. "Joey's not, though. Joey's fuckin' awesome, you should see him, when he's got a nasty customer? He's all nice and stuff, and then he just *looks* at them with this look and they go running. Joey's...yeah." He picked up a book. "This one can't have darts in it."

"Are you willing to take that chance?" Nick asked, giving him a wicked little grin. This knowledge, his learning, was the only thing he seemed to have over these new friends of his. "Chris isn't old at *all*. Have you even ever looked at him? Definitely not old."

"Old," Justin declared, eyeing him suspiciously before putting the book down as well, and holding his hands carefully clear of everything around him. "Very old, like, parents-old. He's all about being caaareful, and not getting into trouble. Though," he allowed, honestly, "he does always come through when we mess up. He's good like that, a really good master to have. And he never beats us or anything, not like my OLD master." Justin grimaced, took another swig, and offered the canteen again.

Nick could sympathize with the evils of old masters, and nodded as he accepted the canteen again. "Chris seems like a really good person," he said. "And just cause he's responsible doesn't mean he's OLD. He's just smart and likes his comforts. And he didn't send me back to die, so that's good."

"Well, yeah, from your standpoint, completely," Justin agreed. "Were you really sleeping under a bridge?" He wrinkled up his nose a little at the thought. "AJ said you were, but AJ'll say anything in bed, really. Remember that when he gets you, because you really can't believe a word he says when he's naked, mostly." Oddly enough, this seemed to be Justin's version of an olive branch, since he smiled sincerely for the first time at Nick after, almost blinding him.

Nick just blinked at him a few times, startled. "I've never bedded a boy," he said, and wished a moment later that he hadn't. Wished he was better at keeping his mouth shut about things that other people didn't need to know, even when he was feeling safe with them. "It sounds like you've bedded a lot. And how did *AJ* know I was sleeping under a bridge?"

Justin stared at him for a long moment, clearly shocked. "You've never...oh, do you only like women?" He peered at Nick like he was a specimen in a zoo. "I've met a few boys like you before. Oh, and AJ...he knows everything. He probably even knows who stole your shoes." Justin shrugged like that was no big deal. "But really, only women? How do you do that?"

The ways of the city were something Nick was still very much not used to; he hadn't had nearly enough time to learn. He hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "I was betrothed," he confessed to him. "So... just her. Except for one time, but no one else knows about that."

Justin raised an eyebrow at him, and offered him the canteen, this time with an air of condolence. "Oh, I...I suppose I see. Um. I'll warn AJ?" He looked rather confused by the whole concept. "I mean, he would hate to offend, but AJ sleeps with everyone, at least so far, so I assume he'd have tried with you. I mean, except I'll warn him." He hastily picked up a candlestick and shoved it into Nick's other hand. "There, make scratches in the ledger about that one."

Nick swallowed nervously and took the candlestick, setting it down again. Justin was looking at everything like it might be magicked, but so far it had only been the knife. "I'm not saying I wouldn't, ever," he said, confessing that for real for maybe the first time. "Just that I haven't. I'm not betrothed anymore after all. I'm dead."

"Um." Justin looked at him like he was probably a little deranged, and possibly dangerous. "No you're not. You're right here." He handed over a brass ewer, just as quickly. "And anyway, if you're not betrothed anymore, you'll probably sleep with AJ, then, right? So I shouldn't warn him? And you'll make me that potion for Jace. Even though he's NOTHING compared to his boss." Justin looked dreamy again for a moment, and then crossed his legs.

"You're very confusing," said Nick, taking a moment to make a few more notes in the ledger. It was odd, to be writing something that only he would ever read. His whole family could read the common language, at least, though none were as educated as Nickolas was. "I'm not even sure anymore I know who you want to bed. Or who you want *me* to bed."

"I want to bed everyone," Justin declared, toasting the world with his canteen. "Everyone should be so lucky as to sleep with me. And you should sleep with whoever YOU want, because that's only right. You're all pretty and things, and yeah." He looked a little puzzled by his own words, but then rallied, his eyes a little glassy. "But definitely AJ, because that's only right. And Chris, because I can tell you are interested."

Nick felt himself flushing again and shook his head. Though he wasn't sure what he was saying no to, or if he even was. "Is there any wine left?" he asked, reaching out his hand for it. "I think I could use some now. How do you bed so many people? Don't you ever want just one?"

Justin handed over the wine, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, I figure I've got my whole life for just one. I'm only young...now." He nodded approvingly as Nick took a deep swallow. "It's nice. Fun, you know? And nice, and hot, and sexy, yeah." He looked at Nick through half-lowered lashes, almost teasingly. "We're all alone in here, you know. You could try it out. See if you're really interested, or just pretending."

Nick almost choked on his wine. Perhaps he should have -- he was getting to know how these people were -- but he hadn't seen that coming. "I..." he began after clearing his throat, but he didn't know what else to say. It wasn't as though Justin wasn't *very* attractive. And Nick certainly wasn't pretending his interest. "--don't know," he finished lamely.

Justin laughed. It wasn't a mean laugh, just genuinely amused, and it damped down the aura of sex that he'd been projecting just moments before. "Well, when you figure out if you'd like a boy to take you in his mouth and, you know, you just say the word," he grinned at Nick. "It's sort of sexy, knowing you've never been with anyone who's not a girl. Now." He waved a vague and aimless hand at the warehouse. "Aren't you supposed to be marking this down like a good boy?"

"I, uh..." said Nick, and quickly looked down at his ledger again. He was not supposed to be thinking things like that about Justin, no matter that he was offering. He had a job to do, and work always came before pleasure, of any sort. "Right. Yes. Of course."

Justin smiled at him knowingly, and started juggling three goblets deftly, keeping them all spinning in the dim light of the warehouse. "That's right," he said cheerfully. "You'd hate to be less than conscientious about this. It's not like this stuff hasn't been here for a thousand years or anything. It's not like you didn't already fix the roof today. You really *are* trying to make us look bad." Clearly struck by a thought, he almost dropped a cup. "Wait, are you really?"

"What?" said Nick, eyes darting up from his work to meet Justin's. "What are you talking about? Why would I do that?"

"Any number of reasons," Justin said slowly, frowning a little at him, "and if you can't think of 'em I'm not gonna share 'em. But...you remember, he was ours first, and there's one thing about Chris, he never ever throws anyone away. Not even Colin."

"I don't want to make anyone look bad," said Nick, shaking his head at Justin's frown. "I've never... I've only ever been one man's apprentice before, and I was his only apprentice. AllI know how to do is my best work." He tilted his head to the side, getting a clearer view of Justin's expression that way. "Who is this Colin? You guys have mentioned him before."

"Colin's a pain in the ass," Justin said with a sigh. "He's one of Chris's old apprentices who got Chris locked up in *jail* and fined and stuff, and then banned from the city. He ran after that, but even after Chris always let him stay in the house when he was sneaking through. He thinks he's the gods' gift to the thieves world, too, and he's definitely not." Justin snorted a little. "*He* sure didn't know how to give his best work."

Nick tried to think that one through; he knew Chris now to be kind, and trusting, but he didn't think him to be naive. "And this Coliin is still here, making trouble for you?" That was what he had gathered from the conversations he had overheard, anyway.

"He's back," Justin nodded, grimacing. "He waited out the ban, and he's back, and he's over on the North Side. But he didn't get approval from Chris to run a crew there, so it's all...messy. I think he and Chris were really close, like brothers or lovers or something, and I know he did good things for Chris at one time. So Chris doesn't want to go in all enforcers and drive him out, but at the same time..." He shrugged with a sigh. "It's messy," he repeated finally, setting down the goblets.

"I would think," said NIck slowly, still laying out all the pieces in his head, "that if someone betrayed me like that, especially someone that close to me, I would not forgive so easily, let alone tolerate that kind of insubordination. Why would Chris? He seems smart."

"Chris is the *smartest*," Justin replied instantly. "He speaks almost fourteen languages, did you know that? And he's the longest-lasting Master Thief the city's ever had." Justin looked proud. "But...history. Chris has a very long memory for things good and bad. I suppose Colin's bad hasn't blanked out the good. But I heard him talking the other day, and I think Colin has finally reached his limit." Justin shook his head. "I wouldn't want to be him, when Chris finally gets angry."

Nick did not think he would even want to *see* Chris truly angry. "He speaks more languages than I do," he said instead of commenting on Colin any further. "I didn't know that."

Justin rolled his eyes and started kicking his feet against the cupboard he was leaning on. "He's smarter than anyone," he repeated. "Do not make the mistake of thinking that because he can't read like you, that he's not smart. That would be a very big mistake. Chris thinks faster and sharper than anyone I've ever met." He watched Nick absently turn the page of the ledger. "You like him, right?"

Nick nodded, continuing his notes. "Course I do," he said. "He took me in, fed me, gave me a job. I'd still be sleeping under a bridge if it weren't for him, probably worse. I never thought he wasn't smart, Justin."

"Mmm-hmm," Justin said. "Well, just you remember that part. Here, have some more wine." He pressed the wine into Nick's hands with a little smirk. "So it's got to be different, huh? You were the one and only apprentice of an incredibly powerful magician, and now you're a clerk for a whole set of illiterate thieves. It probably won't be as interesting. Have you figured out what to lift, as an offering, yet?"

Nick had been trying very, very hard not to think about that. "I'm just a clerk," he said, the same argument he'd used with Chris. "I'm never gonna be stealing anything, I'm terrible at it. I don't know why I have to do this, it seems so silly. Risk getting myself taken away from something i don't even need to be good at."

"It's tradition," Justin shrugged. "I hear that in order to apprentice with Joey, you have to do something to him sexually that he's never experienced before. I guess that's getting harder and harder to do." He looked dreamy again for a moment, before sharpening on Nick again. "You have to do it because it weeds out the people who just *think* they want to be thieves, but secretly can't bring themselves to steal. It has been a problem in the past. It'll be fine, you can practice before you do it for real."

"But I *don't* want to be a thief!" Nick protested, closing the ledger and hiding his face in both his hands for a moment. "I don't know what I want anymore. What I have right now seems pretty good, though."

"But you want to be in the *guild*, which kind of automatically makes you a thief, at least by association," Justin pointed out. "What you have now...being part of the guild is protection, for you and for us, no matter what happens. Chris doesn't let anyone who's not in our guild live in our house or enter the warehouse. There are *vows*."

"I know, I know," sighed Nick, lowering his hands again. It was just something he was going to have to do. He would find a way. "Chris has already been so generous. I just don't want to let him down, you know? I want him to be happy with me here."

"Oh, he is," Justin said carelessly. "He's very happy with you here, he told Joey so. And I'm sure he understands, he's not expecting the crown jewels as an offering, you know. Just something small. If you make it something you'd think he'd like, it would be even nicer. More personal. Colin brought him a puppy."

"I don't know him well enough to know what's personal," admitted Nick, and in that moment he really wished that he did. He hardly knew anything about Chris at all. "At least I don't have to do it right away. What did you bring him? Can I ask that?"

"Course, but people might not answer, though they won't get mad," Justin warned, smiling a little. "I brought him, well." Justin actually turned a little pink. "A silver-and-gilt bedwarmer. It could've been any bedwarmer, but there was a whole joke when I came, only a few months ago, but the joke was that Chris needed a bedwarmer so he let me join the guild. Even Chris was making the jokes, even though he never, with apprentices. So, that's what I got him."

NIck found himself chuckling in spite of himself. "I'm sure he appreciated that," he told him, flipping open the ledger again. He may have been smart, and he may have been educated, but he didn't think he was so clever, not like Chris and his crew seemed to be. "Never, with apprentices? Not ever?"

"Never that I've ever heard of, at least since Colin, and I don't think he did with Colin even when he was an apprentice," Justin shrugged. "He says it's bad enough that he has to play housefather to all of us young troublemakers without bringing sex into it. He's probably right, but it's still a shame. He gets all pent up, and then has to run off to see Joey like it's an emergency." He picked up a large glass ball with lines etched all over it in strange shapes. "What's this?"

"It's a divining orb," said Nick, holding out his hand for Justin to give it to him. "Don't drop it, who knows what's inside. And there *is* something inside, there always is. There has to be." Justin seemed fascinated by it, though. "It's not like I'm *really* an apprentice," Nick felt the need to add. "I'm more of an... employee."

"Mmm-hmm," Justin clearly wasn't paying much attention. "He probably won't lie with you anyway, though. I think there's something red in here." He was peering close to the ball, his nose right up against it. "I think it's moving. Could it be moving?"

"It could moving," Nick admitted, trying to quash the disappointment that he felt. "Probalby not, though, if it's been in here very long." He sighed, and tugged on Justin's sleeve to get him to hand it over. "You're right, Chris probably wouldn't lie with me anyway. Not when he has people so much more experienced than me around him."

"It's not that," Justin said absently, not moving his nose from the ball and turning so Nick couldn't take it away. "He's just got too many principles and he probably thinks he's too old. Just keep mentioning that employee thing to him and don't let him start calling you an apprentice, or you'll *never* get to lie with him." He did glance over his shoulder at Nick with one quick wink. "If that experience thing is what troubles you, though, remember, my offer was an open one."

Nick blushed yet again, and hated that his fair skin showed it so clearly. He'd been teased about it often, as a child. "It doesn't matter," he muttered. "It's not like I'm... would you really? With me? It's so strange here... everyone just does as they please..."

"Well, yes," Justin said, finally turning away from the ball. "It's why we're in this guild, living in this city, instead of on our fathers' fishingboats or farms or shops, marrying and breeding. This place is freedom, Nick." He made an extravagant gesture, and almost dropped the ball. "Of course I would, with you, you're lovely and sweet. It would be fun."

"I wouldn't even know what to do, in return," Nick admitted softly. It was probably a bad idea; Justin was used to the best, and trying to get Nick to help him ensnare someone he thought even better. Nick had nothing to offer him, in bed. "Except perhaps read poetry, but I think you would not like that as much as my betrothed did..."

"You never even tried?" Justin looked at him curiously. "It's quite easy, actually." He set the ball down and slid to Nick's side, cupping his face in one hand before Nick could even think to move away. "Kissing, for example," he murmured, and his breath smelled like sweet wine. "No poetry while kissing. I hate poetry anyway." He kissed Nick, just brushing their mouths together, smiling.

"I know how to kiss," Nick whispered afterwards, his heart pounding in his chest. Justin hovered so close. "I know how to please a woman, but a man... that is something else entirely."

"You do what you would like yourself," Justin offered, with a tiny shrug. "It's not so strange. I, now, I worry about women more, because how do I know what THEY like? Baffling creatures anyway. Boys are much simpler." He kissed Nick again, this time lingering longer and resting a hand on Nick's waist. "If you know how to kiss, then do it."

"It does not feel simple," murmured Nick, letting the ledger tumble to the floor as he pressed in and kissed Justin back. He had no idea what he was doing, but it felt good, and maybe for the first time in his life, it was okay to just do what felt good.

"It IS simple," Justin insisted, kissing him back with energy and enthusiasm that left them both breathless and panting when he finally pulled back. "It's just sex. People have it for fun, or because it feels so good, or whatever. It's simple. Surely you've, you know, handled things yourself before? When your betrothed was not feeling frisky?"

"Of course, of course," said Nick. More often that than anything else, if truth be told. "But there are other things, things I don' t know about, that men to do each other. I know there are, there have to be."

Justin shrugged a little carelessly. "You'll learn as you go, the same as we all did. If you've never sucked someone, for example, that can be a little tricky. But it all comes with practice, just like everything else." He stretched and preened a little, right there in the circle of Nick's arm. "I practice a great deal, myself."

"I'd gathered that," said Nick, and gave him a shy grin. And found himself hoping they weren't finished. "I'm sure you're very good at it by now."

"I try," Justin made at least a passing attempt at modesty, even if he did miss it by a mile. "But look at you, all pink and adorable. I do believe that's a blush I see. Lance does that too," he added, more confidentially. "He turns pink every five minutes, and it's just as fetching on him." Justin leaned in again, and this time there was more than a hint of tongue involved in the kiss, and Justin's hand stroked up under the soft cotton of Nick's new shirt.

"I doubt Lance has as much to blush about," said Nick, licking his lips and automatically leaning in to find Justin's lips again. Good, so good, he'd forgotten what good felt like. "I'm sure he's... done things."

"He has," Justin agreed throatily, smiling at him with heavy eyes. "Mostly with me. You want to see what he likes?" Justin's hand trailed down Nick's chest and belly and cupped suggestively between his legs. "Lance always blushes when I do that."

Nick could see why. "There is no shame here," he whispered, awed by everything. The only thing he could think to do was try to find Jusitn's lips yet again, and do the only thing he was sure he did well.

"You're very fixated on this shame idea," Justin said, pulling back with a little frown after another bone-melting kiss, and leaving his hand exactly where it was. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. No matter where you happen to be standing when you're getting a very talented hand job." He turned his wrist and pressed up.

Nick gasped and fell back, bracing himself on both arms. "I'm not ashamed," he breathed as sparks of pleasure hit his brain. "I'm just... I want... please?"

Justin grinned at him, showing almost too many teeth, and in one smooth motion had his hand inside Nick's pants. His fingers felt cool, but that was probably because Nick was burning up, and they closed around him just right, not too tight and not too loose. When Justin started to stroke, Nick gasped so loud he almost missed Justin murmuring "it's been a long time, hasn't it? Just let go..."

It was hard to let go, he'd held himself together so tightly for so long now. But Justin was insistent, and talented... "Justin," he gasped, and lifted one hand to try to grab Justin's wrist. He didn't know why, he didn't know anything.

"Nick," Justin whispered back, voice light and teasing, and increased the pace of his strokes, holding Nick's fingers in his other hand and squeezing, giving him something to ground himself with. "Come on. You can, you're safe here."

Nick felt his guts clench as he rested his body backwards again, unintentionally -- or maybe not -- thrusting up into Justin's hand. "Safe," he echoed him, and closed his eyes, and really let himself believe that. Safe here with Chris, with Justin, with everyone. Safe doing what he desired, had always desired, to do. "Oh... oh... oh!"

"Ohhhh," Justin echoed faintly, gentling his hand as he milked the last aftershocks out of Nick. "Oh, you're just as gorgeous when you come as I knew you would be." He gave Nick a last soft pat and slipped his hand out, raising it to his mouth and taking a thoughtful lick. "Mmm."

Nick's eyes widened; Mandy had never done *that*. He couldn't ask, though, he couldn't comment. He could just pant and lay there, limp and helpless and sated.

Justin carefully, and provocatively, licked every finger clean, grinning wickedly at Nick the whole time. "See?" He finally said, when he was done. "It's not tricky at all. Very simple, very fun for all. Next time, you get to do me." He reached out and pushed Nick's hair away from his eyes, affectionately.

"Now?" asked Nick, once he could. He pushed himself back up to sitting and reached for Justin. "I think I know how it works, mostly... though I may not taste it after..."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Justin assured him with a smile, though he didn't move away. "I played with Lance this morning, it's really a lot warmer in those chambers if you're sharing blankets. Of course, I'm not going to say no." He kissed Nick again, light and sweet.

Nick shivered all over when Justin's lips touched his. "Chris lets me sleep by the fire, still," he confessed, and felt guilty for it. "I think he's worried I'll fall ill, from my time on the street, though I've shown no signs."

"You'll sleep there till you have a chamber and a bed," Justin answered. "It's best just to give Chris his way in these things, or he gets all..." Justin made a face, baring his teeth and scowling terribly for an instant. "Kind of like that. Just enjoy the fire while you have it, and don't worry, no one resents it."

Nick had definitely been enjoying it. The cubbyhole he'd found himself under the bridge protected him from the wind and snow, but it was still cold, so cold. "I hope I'll have a bed to sleep in soon." he said, and as he said it, he thought the idea of sharing that bed was a rather nice one. "I can..." He fumbled with Justin's pants, but unlike his own they laced up tightly. "Damn it."

"Heh. I should make you do them, for practice," Justin said, but he dropped his own hands and had the laces undone and hanging open in moments. "There. Now it's all there for you to do what you want with. Well," he amended hastily, "what you'd want if it was *yours*, I mean."

Nick touched it hesitantly; he'd hardly ever *seen* anyone else's let alone touched one. But it felt just like his, hardsoft and hot and fitting comfortably in his hand. He ran his fingers over it and smiled. "It's nice."

"Thank you," Justin choked out, bending a little at the waist. "I like it a lot, myself. Oh my. Yes, just exactly what you'd want if it was yours..." He relaxed and braced himself on the table with one hand, the other cupping Nick's shoulder and then sliding up to his neck.

Nick thought it was maybe a little smaller than his own, but that just made it easier to work with. And even he knew that wasn't the kind of thing you said to someone. "How about this?" he said, curling his fingers around it. It was less expertly than Justin had, but he suspected it still felt good.

"*Very* good," Justin sighed. "And just, a little faster near the top, like when...oh gods." He bucked his hips a little as Nick's wrist slid over the smooth wet crown, and he jumped in Nick's hand. "That's good too," he breathed.

Nick smiled at him, trying to do what Justin said. Maybe it was simple after all, at least this part of it. The part of Nick's brain that was freaking out at the fact that he was doing this, he shoved to the back. To the far back. He licked his lips and wondered what Justin might taste like. "Like this?"

"Just like that," Justin smiled back, relaxing back and letting him explore a little. "Just like however, there's no right or wrong." Nick just bet Justin had spent some time practicing to make sure he'd known how to do it well, though. Justin spread his legs a bit further. "Relax. It's supposed to be fun."

"It's fun!" said Nick, his voice squeaking at the end. "I'm just... trying to do it... you... right. Is this okay? Right here?" He ran his thumb carefully over the crown.

"Ooooh," Justin hummed appreciatively, eyes falling closed. "Yes, that's wonderful, just like that. You can do it harder, too, if you like." He pressed his hips up towards Nick's hand, invitingly, licking his lips and starting to breathe through his mouth.

Nick leaned in closer, took a deep breath. "You smell... hot," he said, and despite his vast vocabulary he couldn't think of a better way to describe it. "How much harder?" he asked, increasing his grip, quickening his strokes. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You aren't," Justin got out, sounding strangled. "Just don't pinch, and we'll be...oh...we'll be fine." His hips started jerking and finally settled on a subtle little thrusting motion, like Justin couldn't help himself, but he grabbed the back of Nick's neck and pulled him even closer, into a kiss, this one harder.

Nick whimpered into the kiss, hand working faster. From this position it was a natural motion, and he stopped thinking about it. He just did it.

Justin held his breath for a count of one, two, three, four, and then he was shuddering against Nick, all his muscles bunching and he made a soft, hurting sound. His head dropped to Nick's shoulder as he spilled out, wet and hot over Nick's fingers, finally going still and just breathing.

"Like that," said Nick when it was all over, his breath hitching. "Oh, Justin. We just..." He hand felt sticky but he didn't mind; it wasn't like touching himself, when it was all over too soon and he was just left with a mess.

"We sure did," Justin chuckled against his shoulder, then turned his head and kissed Nick's cheek lightly. "And wasn't it fun? Next time you should try it naked, it's even better that way." He reached around Nick and squeezed tightly, and then let go, reaching for the laces of his own pants but never letting up on the smile.

"Next time," murmured Nick in dazed agreement. There would be a next time. He didn't know when or where or with who, but there had to be a next time. Slowly he brought his hand up to his mouth and darted his tongue out, just for a taste, just to know what it was like.

Justin widened his eyes at Nick approvingly, pulling his pants closed and tugging his shirt down over the small wet spot. "Not too bad, right? You've got great instincts, you know. I'd call you a natural, but I have a feeling you'd hit me or something, and we're getting along so well." He poked Nick gently in the shoulder.

Nick tasted a little more, then wiped his hand off on his pants. It would dry long before the finished their work, he was sure. It didn't taste bad, just strange. He didn't know what to think, of any of it. "We should... uh..." He laughed nervously. "I don't know."

"You should go back to doing that..." Justin waved his hand around the room vaguely as he hitched himself up to a perch on the table. "Whatever it is you're doing here, and I'll sit here and be inspirational. And help you move the heavy things. This has already been a great deal more fun than I was expecting." He settled in, looking perfectly comfortable.

Nick licked his lips and everything was so awkward, even though Justin looked so comfortable. "Um. Would you be okay if I did a small magic thing here? You won't be afraid?"

Justin's face scrunched up a little, and he looked uncertain for a moment. "It depends on what it is," he said warily. "You're not going to set fire to yourself in embarrassment or anything, are you? Because you're blushing pretty hard, but there's no need to do anything drastic, you'll get used to the idea really quickly."

That just made Nick blush harder, but he shook his head. "No," he assured him, "no. We just need more light." Humming softly under his breath, a tune he'd known since childhood, he concentrated on separating a bit of flame from the candle they had burning, then growing and shaping it into a bright ball of light. He dampened the heat it put off so it wouldn't harm anything, then let it float freely above them.. "Just like that."

Justin's eyes were HUGE in the bright light, his head tipped back as he followed the little sun, stepping close before shying away, then getting close again. "Oh," he breathed, entranced. "It's lovely, it's so beautiful. But, Nick, everything in here *burns*." He looked over at Nick, clearly worried.

"You can touch it," said Nick, gesturing at the ball of light that dipped closer to Justin again. "It's cool, it's just bright. Bright enough to work by, much better than candles."

"Look, it likes me," Justin said, delighted, as the ball followed him gently when he moved. He reached up and touched it with one careful finger, jerking it back in clear startlement when the tip sank into the light. "That is just incredible."

"It's just light," said Nick, startled by the awe. Sure, it was a beautiful trick, but it was such a simple and common thing to him. "I could make it a different colour if you wanted, though natural gives off the brightest light..."

"No, no, leave it," Justin insisted, not taking his eyes away from it. "It's not hot at all. You should definitely be sure that it's the brightest light...Lance is taking reading lessons and he says his tutor always makes him read in really bright light, for his eyes."

Nick nodded. "That's a very good idea," he agreed, picking up the ledger and dusting it off. "I hurt my eyes when I was younger, from reading in dim light, it makes it harder to see now. You see? Look at this." He opened the book and pointed at the lettering he'd made. "It's difficult to make out, without enough light."

Justin blinked in polite interest at the ledger, clearly completely uncomprehending, and then went back to staring at the light. "It doesn't even hurt my eyes to look at it," he marveled, "like it would outside in the sun. How did reading in dim light hurt your eyes? I always thought the tutor just wanted a better look at Lance." He slid back up to a seat on the table, beaming when the light bobbed along in his wake.

"If there's not enough light, it makes your eyes work too hard. If you make your eyes work too hard a lot, it makes it harder to see the rest of the time," Nick told him, running his own fingers over the words. "Though maybe the tutor did want a better look at Lance. He has pretty eyes."

"You noticed that too?" Justin smirked at him. "Well, that makes sense about the light, I suppose. You aren't bent all close to the book with your nose wrinkled up, like before. So this means you'll be going faster, now, right? And we'll be done soon?" He looked hopeful.

Nick laughed, a little louder than he'd meant to. "Done?" he said. "We won't be done in here for days, Justin. And *I* won't be done in here for weeks, probably. Look at all this stuff!"

Justin blinked at him like a confused owl. "But you're just writing things down," he finally protested. "That can't take days. I can't sit in here staring at nothing for days!" His voice was rising steadily. "I have things to DO! You don't need me really, do you?"

Nick almost felt bad for him, except he remembered how upset Chris had been the other day when Justin had been in so much trouble. "It's not my choice," he apologized. "Chris said you needed to be here, to keep you out of trouble. He won't make you stay as long as I'll need to be here, though. I have a lot of work to do."

"I don't need to be kept out of trouble," Justin said indignantly. "I just--" he broke off with a sigh, at Nick's look. "All right, I messed up. But I don't see why I have to sit here in this museum, where you don't need me, where there's nothing for me to DO, instead of being out there making up for it." He kicked his feet against a box, moodily. "I didn't mess up that badly, anyway."

"So what did you do, anyway?" asked Nick. He tried to pick up where they left off, but he was still so distracted, from what they'd done. There was no buildup, no weeks of foreplay, no commitment. Just two people making each other feel good. It was a revelation.

"I just got caught," Justin sounded aggrieved. "It could have happened to anyone. I mean, yes, I deviated from the plan a little, but it should have gone just fine, and if it hadn't been for that damn dog, I would've gotten away clean." He held up a dagger to the light globe, sighed when no jewels sparkled. "Anyway, I got caught, and Chris had to come get me. That's always embarrassing."

"That'll be me, as soon as I try to steal something," said Nick ruefully. "There won't be any jewels, Chris said. They're all long gone, I think. Traded or sold or... whatever you do with things like that."

"Fenced," Justin said wisely. "Well, it's still a nice little knife. You should keep it, maybe you can fight your way free when you get caught." He sighed. "Not that you will. You'll be fine. Just think of what you want to steal for Chris, and I'll help you practice. So will AJ, he loves that stuff."

"I think I'm a pretty hopeless case," admitted Nick. "There's a reason it was my last resort, you know. When I was hungry enough to try anything. Pass me the next thing on the shelf?"

"Here." Justin handed him a heavy silver wall sconce. "No one's hopeless. You might not have been that bad, really, only Chris has very high standards for pickpocketing. He has to. So don't get all down on yourself or anything. If worse comes to worst, you can always magic something up. Hey, are you still hungry? We could take a break and get food."

"I'm *always* hungry," moaned Nick, his stomach responding instantly to Justin's words, "but you're just saying that so we can stop working. I think... I think probably magicking something is cheating, in some way. Don't you think?"

"Nick," Justin said patiently, sighing a little, "we're *thieves.* Cheating is what we *do*. If you can figure out a way to do it and get away with it, then go for it. If you can make something appear by magic, well, you aren't paying for it. If you can steal it with magic, even better, because who could prove it was you?"

"I can't steal with magic, I don't think," said Nick, but as soon as Justin suggested it he was trying to think of a way to make that work. If he could find a way, that would solve *all* his problems. "Unless... maybe... "

Justin just smiled, and handed him another candlestick, staying silent and starting to play with the light globe as Nick pondered, seeing if he could push it around like a balloon. It turned out that he couldn't, but that the ball of flame reacted to his nearness much like a candle would, and he could manipulate it by cupping his hands and waving them.

Nick smiled as he watched him, and sang softly again to create a second sphere of light to match the first. "There are an awful lot of candlesticks in here. Are they easy to snatch or something?"

"Yes," Justin nodded. "And not so easy to sell. Chris keeps saying he'll melt them all down, but that takes time and effort, and he doesn't have much of either one to spare." He grinned delightedly as the second light globe bumped the first gently. "Can you make one of them blue?"

It was nice, that something so simple could make Justin look so happy. Nick whistled softly and one of the globes changed to a soft blue shade, colours swirling into its depths. "What I don't understand," he said, gesturing at a gold engraved chest nearby, "is how you stole something like *that*."

"Someone stole a coach, and I guess the chest was in it, would be my best guess," Justin said absently, watching the blue globe swirl like liquid marble. "I don't even know what's in there. Clothes, most probably, either the wrong size or too fine for one of us. You should look. Just be sure nothing explodes when you lift the lid."

Nick eyed the chest warily. He could make some protections around it before he opened it, but Justin probably wouldn't want to be around for that. And *he* was going to need some more energy before he attempted it. "So much stuff," he murmured, inwardly thrilled at being able to explore it all.

"Yeah, so much stuff." Justin's voice was distinctly unexcited. "Great." He leaned back up against the table and blew a long stream of air at the blue light globe, beaming at it when it bobbed and weaved over his face. He picked up a piece of silk that Nick couldn't even begin to calculate the value of, and started fanning it towards the light, getting it closer and closer, and then frowning. "Oh, right, those things are cold. This will not catch fire." He sighed regretfully.

Nick felt a chill go through his whole body, watching Justin do that. He tried to stay something, but no words came out at first, just a choked sound. At least that got Justin's attention. "Justin," he got out finally, closing his eyes to steel himself. "How about we don't play with fire, huh?"

"It's just a rag," Justin said, a little impatiently, before turning to him and checking sharply, changing his words. "Oh, are you okay, you're really--" Justin stopped his reflexive grab for Nick's arm. "You're very pale. Are you, do you feel all right? Are you still..." Justin fluttered anxiously, clearly having no idea what to do and unhappy with that state of affairs.

"Okay, um, first of all, that "rag" is probably worth more than that jewel you have around your neck," said Nick. He could still feel himself shaking. "And second... just fire. Fire's not... I had a bad experience, you could say."

"Oh." Justin seemed to contemplate this, then nodded. "Chris is the same about very high places, since he took that bad fall. I understand. But you should remember, your balls of light are cool." He set the silk down a little more respectfully, though he sent Nick a skeptical look. "There's no way that cloth is worth more than my pendant. It's CLOTH." He eased close to Nick, and the warm weight of him against Nick's shoulder calmed the shaking.

Nick took a deep breath and let himself relax against him. "Yes, it's probably like Chris's problem with high places," he agreed. "I died in a fire. Well, I pretended to. I burned a whole building down." It sounded strange, when he said it like that. Like he was a criminal. "The cloth is silk; it's very rare and expensive."

Justin shrugged a little at that last; he clearly didn't care about the silk. "It's only worth whatever someone can fence it for, which is obviously nothing, or it wouldn't be here," he said dismissively. "You really burned that whole castle down? All the way to the ground? How did you get the stones to burn? Does your family really think that you're dead?"

"The stones didn't burn," said Nick, "but the walls crumbled, the heat made them weak. It was... the whole thing was destroyed." He picked up the piece of silk and felt it; he remembered having silk clothing. It seemed like a long time ago. "You just have to know where to sell things, I think. Did anyone ever ask Joey about this? In his, uh, line of business, he'd probably have a very good idea who'd be interested in buying it."

"No," Justin said, though he'd perked up a little at the mention of Joey's name. "No one asks Joey about these things, he always starts feeling bad about the people who've lost their belongings. I bet Chris would GIVE it to Joey if he wanted it, though. And maybe he'd let me deliver it." He leaned harder against Nick. "If we were going to be done here soon, I could tell Chris that Joey might like the gift, and then go."

"I guarantee you," said Nick, "that Joey would salivate over a gift like that. I wonder if there's more in here?" It would be worth looking at some point. Then again, he was going to get a chance to look at everything. It was still exciting to him. "If... well, if you really want to go so badly, I can't keep you here. But I'm sure that Chris will be sending you back with me tomorrow. Is it really so terrible for you?"

"Meh." Justin shrugged one shoulder against Nick. "Boring, only, not so terrible. *Much* more interesting since, well." He looked at Nick through his eyelashes. "If I really really wanted to go, if it was unbearable, I'd go, Chris or no Chris. This isn't unbearable, it's just dull. And there's always the chance you'll do some magic." He sighed, and waved his hand towards the light spheres. "Those, for example. I want to take them home with me!"

"I could make them at home, too," Nick told him. "They're very useful, for reading. Or... or for finding things, too." He gave Justin a smile. "Or for playing with. You aren't so scared when I do magic? Everyone else seems to be, as though I'm likely to harm them."

"Not me," Justin boasted. "My cousin was doing magic around our house, before he was fostered out to a mage. I got used to seeing purple chickens and watching bread bake itself. And besides, you aren't very scary." He peered at Nick. "You can really make those light balls whenever you like? How long do they last? Could I bring one with me if I needed to go outside the house?"

Nick shook his head. "I mean, technically you *could*, they're a very simple magic that doesn't take much energy, but you don't want to be spreading around that Chris has a mage in his house. An unlicensed mage. It's best to keep me, and what I can do, hidden. You have a cousin who's a mage? Did they ever test you to see if you were gifted as well?"

"Um, no," Justin shook his head. "I don't even get the heebies like Lance. Or is that something different? Either way, no one ever tested me for anything. I guess it's best to keep you hidden, but I'd still like a pet ball of light." He sighed, and pouted just a little. "And it would be SO useful on jobs. But only if I could turn it on and off, I guess."

Nick nodded, his brain already twisting around, trying to figure a way to make it happen. Magic wasn't something where things only worked one way; people were always coming up with new ways to use it, within the laws of how it worked. "Perhaps if we made something to contain it in..." he mused. "It would have to be recharged at least once a day, I would think, because the energy I use to make it would burn out. But maybe..."

Justin blinked at him, then grinned. "I'll lay odds you'll figure it out." He bumped Nick's shoulder with his own, and then pushed away from the table and started wandering through the piles and stacks of loot. "You know, most of this stuff is worthless." He held up a carved wooden clog, illuminated by the blue globe that was still following him faithfully. "I mean, look at this. You, you're going to be able to make NEW things happen."

Nick just shrugged a little, embarrassed by the attention. "Oh, I don't know," he said, waving a hand vaguely. It was getting hard to read the ledger again, but he couldn't bear to take Justin's playthings again so he hummed himself up a third globe of light from the still-burning candle. "And a lot of this stuff isn't worthless, you just need to find a market for it, I think."

"If you can find a market for this," Justin brandished the clog before tossing it aside with a clatter, "you're even more a genius than Chris said you were, and I'll vote you head of the guild myself. I can't even understand why someone would steal most of these things." He curled a lip at a stack of painted china, before turning away from it and moving on, beckoning the lights to follow him, which they did.

"Okay, maybe not for that in particular," Nick conceded. "But for a lot of it. The silver and the books and I already told you about the silk." He felt him blushing again in spite of himself. "Chris said I was a genius?"

"He thinks you hung the moon or something," Justin said casually, peering into things and behind boxes, roaming aimlessly. "Maybe not that exactly, but genius, sure, and also very pretty, I think. He admires people who can read." Justin flipped over the top of a crate, and skipped back with a yelp when there was a flash of light and a loud *BANG* in immediate response.

"Justin!" said Nick, forcing away his immediate instinct to run and going to Justin's side to make sure he was okay. "What in Hades did you just do?!"

"I don't know." Justin sounded shaken up. "All I can see is green spots." He started walking towards Nick, hands out in front of him, but he stopped when the blue ball of light bobbed close to his face, zipping back and forth agitatedly. "Okay, blue spots, now. Nick? A little help?"

Nick quickly banished the blue globe with a flick of his wrist and a twitter of a whistle. "Come here, quickly," he said, taking Justin's wrist to guide him away from the crate. There didn't seem to be a whiff of magic about it, so Nick suspected flash powder, or something similar. "Close your eyes, deep breaths, you're fine..."

"Except for not being able to *see*," Justin said waspishly, clinging hard to Nick's wrist as he took tiny, hesitant steps. "This has happened before, though. It always wears off eventually." He made a face as Nick pushed him to a seat, and didn't let go. "The green spots are back. Why is it always green? And what's in that crate?"

"I don't know what's in the crate," said Nick, reaching up with his other hand to rub Justin's shoulder. Not being able to see was a scary thing. "I'm not sure I dare look just yet; I'll want to put a couple wards on myself first. Just in case. Vision coming back yet?"

"Mmm," Justin said thoughtfully. "Not really, but the green's turning white. So, listen. Are you going to be staying around here, do you think? Longer than a week, maybe even permanently? Because this magic thing...I think that will be a big help to us. Especially if you can do things like banish blindness." He lifted his face hopefully.

"Not this kind of blindness," said Nick apologetically. "You should be able to see again in a few minutes, though, so just sit with me until then. I'm ... I've pledged myself to stay, really. I don't have anywhere else to go, and Chris has been... he's been wonderful. So much more than I could have hoped for."

"He's like that," Justin said, sounding satisfied despite Nick's inability to fix his eyes. "And if you stay, I won't be the newest guildmember any more, and that would be nice. Just be sure you're honest with Chris, all the time, and everything will go well. The only reason he's ever kicked someone out is for lying. Even *Lance* won't lie to Chris."

"I told him about where I came from," said Nick quietly. "Well, he found out first, but I told him everything. Even though bad things could've happened when I did. And you said... you really think he likes me?"

"Yes," Justin said, patiently. "He likes you. He wouldn't have asked you to stay if he didn't, no matter how well you write or what magic tricks you can do. And since he does like you, he'd have asked you to stay even without those things. Probably." His forehead wrinkled a little. "Well, he's very practical, so he might have just given you food and clothes and money and a place to sleep, instead of adopting you in."

"Oh, so that kind of like," mused Nick, and tried not to show the least bit of disappointment. He knew, he just knew, that Justin was the type to tease. And not let it go. "I think I can be useful. I want to be. I think I could like it here."

"What kind of like?" Justin's head swung like a child scenting a treat, and Nick could only be glad that he was still blinking rapidly and obviously couldn't see Nick's expression. "Oh my. I knew you were watching him, but *Nick*. Nick, I am so proud of you." Justin was smirking a little now. "I think it's some kind of record, the fastest one of us to fall deeply in love with our fearless leader. Or second-fastest, actually. Too bad."

"Don't," he murmured, doubly glad Justin couldn't see him. "It's... it's not like that. You *know* I've never... until you. Until today. I'm not in love with him."

"You don't have to sleep with him to be in love with him," Justin corrected, clearly gleeful. "He won't sleep with *any* of us, but that didn't stop us all from going completely insane for him, at least for a while. Don't worry, it's nothing to be ashamed of or anything. And you just won me a free drink at the Lion's Gate, so thank you."

"Justin, you're not going to *tell* anyone!" Nick gasped out. "You... you can't. That makes it sound so... " Cheap. Ordinary. "Impossible."

"Um." Justin looked puzzled, and rubbed his eyes a little. "I'm not sure what you mean. I bet Lance that you'd fall for Chris in under two days, and he took the bet, so I get a free drink. I'm not sure what that makes impossible. I mean, besides the fact that Chris only ever sleeps with Joey or one of Joey's boys or girls."

Nick sighed. "Why do you have to tell Lance?" he asked, waving a hand slowing in front of Justin's eyes, looking for reactions. "It's not anyone's business but mine, anyway, you know? It's not... it's not just a silly thing."

"But it's *interesting*," Justin protested, blinking hard when Nick's hand got too close, clearly reacting. "And you've gotta admit, a little silly. It's Chris. We've all been there." He thought for a moment, then brightened. "Oh, I'll tell Lance, and win my drink, and then you can talk to Lance all about it. Lance fell hardest, I think."

"Justin," pleaded Nick. "Believe me, I don't want to talk to Lance about it. I don't want to talk to anyone about it. There's no "it" to talk about anyway." He didn't want to know that they'd all been there; this was different. "l'll... I'll buy you that drink myself, if you don't tell Lance. I'll find a way."

"Lance is going to know anyway," Justin pointed out. "You're not subtle. It's the timing that matters for the bet. And Lance always wins bets! It's just..." he rubbed his eyes and squinted at Nick, though Nick couldn't imagine he could see much, the way he was still blinking. "Oh, all right. But I still think you should talk to Lance about it. He's pretty sensible, and he kisses really well, too. All slow and sexy."

"I don't want to kiss Lance," said Nick sadly. He fought back a pathetic sniffle. "I want... I don't want to kiss anyone. How are your eyes? We could find something cool to press against them, maybe. It won't help with the seeing, but it will feel good."

"You don't want to kiss *me*?" Justin sounded completely affronted. "Everyone wants to kiss me! At least while you're waiting to get over the Chris thing you could be spending your time making out with other people." He patted fingertips near his eyes, a nervous movement that told Nick that he was more upset about his vision than he was letting on. "How long, do you think, before I can see again?"

Nick frowned at him. "Can you see at all, yet? Light, maybe blurs of colour?" He waved his hand in front of Justin's eyes again. "It's not that I don't want to kiss you, it's just... " He sighed dismally. "If... IF... there is a Chris thing, maybe I don't want to get over it."

"That doesn't make much sense," Justin pointed out, "since he's got that rule about sleeping with apprentices, and that just means you won't be sleeping with *anyone*. But you do what you have to do, I suppose. Oh, I can see your hand moving!" He reached out and grabbed for Nick's fingers and missed by about a handspan, slapping Nick's chest instead. "Whoops."

Nick grinned. "Close, though. And I'm not Chris's apprentice. I have no interest in becoming a thief. I'm just his clerk. I'm more of an... employee, I think. I service him." Nick blushed as he put it that way, and was very glad Justin couldn't see. "Just a couple more minutes on the eyes now, I think."

Justin, of course, couldn't let that pass, and giggled at Nick. "You *wish* you serviced him," he said, smirking. "What you do right now is work for him. But you're going to be in the guild, once you steal your offering, so that'll be close enough, I believe, for the rule to apply." He shrugged again. "Of course, one of the first rules of theiving is that rules are made to be broken, so you might have a chance if you play your part properly."

"I don't want to play a part," murmured Nick, pressing his palm to Justin's forehead, both to reassure him and to keep him from getting up before he was ready. "I'm just Nickolas, I'm not sure I can be anything else. But I'm not an apprentice anymore. I *was* that and now... I'm not."

Justin sighed, leaning his weight against Nick's hand, adorably. "Well, Just Nickolas, do you want a chance or not? Because if you want him you're going to have to fight for him, and the worst part is, you'll be fighting *him*. For himself. Or something like that, but you know what I mean. So you're going to have to think up some kind of plan. Don't you know anything about this kind of thing?" He blinked long eyelashes at Nick, and smiled sweetly. "You should keep practicing, too."

"I don't know anything," said Nick softly. He was in so, so far over his head, with that. He was already in over his head with Justin, but with Chris? It was just beyond him. "I don't know him well enough to know whether I really want... anything... anyway. I think maybe I'm just gonna try for friend, for now." And maybe that was a plan, in spite of him.

Justin sighed and leaned on him harder. "Well, when you figure it out, you let me know. And you completely owe me a drink, because if I don't tell Lance he'll assume he's won and he *gloats*. It's really very unattractive." He blinked rapidly, eyes moist, and then smiled. "I can see the ball of light, now. It's over there, right? I think this place is dangerous, we should pack it up for the day and go to the tavern."

"Soon," Nick promised him. Getting Justin out of there probably wasn't a bad idea. "You can tell Lance, I guess, but only if he promises to keep *his* mouth shut. It's embarrassing. I didn't mean for it to happen, and I don't intend to do anything about it right now. Promise?"

"Lance is pretty good at keeping secrets, even though you really shouldn't be embarrassed, since we've all been there," Justin nodded. "Are you still going to buy me a drink too? Because really, I think you owe me one for implying that I am not kissable. It was a serious blow, you know. I think I'm scarred. And I still can't see very well." He looked dangerously sulky at that, covering the obvious fear.

"You'll be able to see soon enough," said Nick. "And maybe I'll... do you think Chris might lend me money? Does he do that sort of thing? I hate to ask, but..." He had nothing. Just literally nothing but what Chris had already given him. "Except I don't think I remember saying anything about you being unkissable!"

"Chris does NOT loan money," Justin said, shaking his head. "It's not something he does. But I'll loan you money if you swear to pay me back. I distinctly remember you saying that you didn't want to kiss me, which translates to me being unkissable. I'm sure you can see why I'd be upset." He sniffed again. "A drink, at LEAST. And soon, because it's too dark in here. I'm sure that's what's keeping me from seeing better." He smiled a little, snuggling closer to Nick. "Though there are benefits...I think my sense of touch is already getting better."

"You're going to loan me money to buy you a drink, and then I have to pay you back?" said Nick incredulously. "No, I don't think that sounds right." Justin's touch had a way of convincing him of things though. "I never said I didn't want to kiss you, in particular. I'd do all kinds of things with you, I think."

"Really?" Justin sounded quite flattered, all traces of sulk gone. "Well, then I think you should definitely buy me at least one drink. I think it's awfully good of me to lend you the money, too, since I haven't known you that long and how do I know you're good for it? But I trust you, you have a very trustworthy face. I can tell you're good for it." He patted around Nick's body, hands wandering freely. "Hmm, I can't find your money pouch, though." There was a grin in his voice.

Nick blushed and smiled and looked down. "Maybe you should keep looking, then," he said quietly, knowing full well there was nothing to find. No money pouch, anyway.

"I don't know," Justin's voice got a little playful lilt to it. "If I can't find your money pouch, then where will you put the coins I lend you?" He slipped a familiar hand in between Nick's thighs, but it was gone before Nick could do more than suck in a breath. "Nothing there, I see..."

"I wouldn't call that nothing," murmured Nick, running his fingers over one of Justin's exploring arms. "Are you sure it's not what you're looking for?"

"Yes, because I want to get out of here," Justin explained patiently, slapping Nick's hip lightly. "You can come sleep with me tonight, then that'll be what I'm looking for, but we can't stay here now. Not after this place almost *blinded* me." He leaned against Nick. "We are leaving, right?"

"Can you see yet?" Nick countered. They *were* leaving, Nick didn't think he could stop that now, but not until Justin was good and ready. He hated to leave the place, he was just getting started on it, it felt like, but he would be back. He would be back again and again. And Justin's offer was pretty good, too. "Then we can go."

"Of course I can see," Justin countered instantly. His blinking had slowed, but his eyes were still watering hard. "The vision's much better. If you made another ball of light, I think I'd be able to see perfectly. It's just very dark in here, is all. I'm sure you won't let me bash into anything on our way out..."

"Why don't we just give it a few more minutes?" suggested Nick. "I'm sure we can think of at least a couple things to do in the dark. Since those balls of light won't be following us any place but in here."

"You can't take them outside?" Justin drew back and frowned a little. "But it was following me around in here just...oh, I guess people would notice." He sighed, backed away from Nick a little, and hauled himself up on a table, hooking Nick's waist with an ankle and drawing him in. "So, tell me, Nicky. You just got here, how did you fall for Chris so fast?" Justin's fingers trailed up his arm to his neck, and tugged lightly at the longer hair there.

"I never said I fell for Chris," Nick protested weakly. "*You* said I fell for Chris. He's... he's just very interesting and very clever and very attractive. I'm sure that wanting to spend time with him is a very natural thing. It doesn't mean that I've fallen for him... that would take much longer, I think."

"You admitted you had a thing," Justin insisted mildly. "You said you didn't want it to stop, remember? No going back." Nick wasn't sure he'd ever said any such thing, but Justin seemed certain. "Interesting and clever and attractive? So you think he's sexy, then? You should tell him that, I bet he'd love to hear it."

"What, so he can laugh at me?" said Nick, shaking his head. Just the though of it made him feel miserable inside. "No, it's not important enough to tell him. Maybe when I know him better, then I'll know if I feel those things for real."

"He won't..." Justin broke off, and tipped his head thoughtfully. "Well, he might laugh, but it would just be to make the whole thing funny instead of serious. He does that sometimes. But if you want to wait, I guess that's your decision to make." He tugged Nick closer with that heel, and linked his fingers behind Nick's neck. "In the meantime, you can keep practicing. By the time you get to Chris, you'll be perfect."

Nick didn't think he'd mind practicing so much. Now that he'd gotten his feet wet, the whole idea was that much easier to swallow. Even if it still made him blush. "No, I don't think I want to say anything yet. Not until I'm sure. Until then..." He was sure Justin had some ideas.

Justin just tipped his head back, smirking a little, the effect only marred by the wet trails down his cheeks as his eyes kept tearing. "Until then what? You *suppose* you can reluctantly drag yourself into giving me one little kiss, since I'm injured and trapped in the dark and I'm losing a bet and you called me unkissable?"

"You're not unkissable!" Nick insisted again, and leaned in to prove it. Justin's lips were damp with tears, and Nick licked at them gently. "You're very sweet, you know."

"Mmph," Justin grumped, against Nick's mouth, drawing him closer very slowly and gently. "Don't tell," he grinned, and then kissed Nick a little harder, with a bit more tongue, and his hands dropped to Nick's waist, touching him softly. When he pulled back, his cheeks were flushed again. "NOW can we go?"

Justin's eyes were very clearly focused on him, so Nick nodded. "Yes, now we can go," he said, finding his ledger again and flipping it closed. He wasn't sure if Chris wanted to see his progress or not, so he decided it would be best to take it with him. There were a few things he wanted to talk about with him anyway. "You'll have to lead the way."

"But I'm the blind one," Justin protested, still smiling a little. "Once we get outside I can figure out how to get us home, though." He followed Nick through the maze of loot, one hand still resting lightly at Nick's waist, and he only stumbled twice, sure sign that his vision really was returning well. The moment they stepped through the door, though, he threw up a hand over his eyes, squeezing them shut and grimacing. "OW."

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