The Librarian and the Biker

by Oncidium

Archive: M_A

Category: Qui/Obi, AR, Angst, Romance, First Time

Rating: For now R for violence and language, NC-17 later for the rest

Warnings: For violence

Summary: A tough biker finds a new self in a sheltered librarian

Feedback: hellsmouth@sympatico.ca

Thanks: To my betas, especially The Rose and SKI :)

Disclaimer: these boys are not mine. I just like to play with them when GL is not looking :)

With one well-aimed thud, the sudden crack followed by the wetness signalled the bone giving out. Blood ran in rivulets from the marred nose, over the red stained lips and dripped from the chin of the man. The pupils of the ice eyes dilated as the adrenaline pumped viciously into the bloodstream, staving off unconsciousness and maddeningly tamping down the pain and not allowing him to crumple to the ground; broken into submission.

Quentin Jinn backed away and pulled his fists back eye level with knuckles turned out in a classic boxer's defensive pose. The back of one hand was now stained with the blood of his opponent, but he could not let up until he was told to do so. Jinn, as he was called by fellow gang members, was the gangs' chief enforcer. As a gang enforcer it was his role to keep order within the ranks, with violence when necessary. A role that, because of his size, he was put into immediately when the gang had accepted him. A role he hated. A role he needed to fulfil in order for them to still find him useful. A role that today he performed with a heavy heart, for this fight was not over territory nor gang rule being upheld. It was about a man's right to follow the path he wanted in this life. His right to freedom.

Jinn flinched as he saw his younger opponent sway slightly but still remain standing. "Come on lad, just fall down and this can be over with," he thought as he moved in to deliver another well-aimed punch at the once beautiful face. His opponent's head snapped back and forward under the force of the blow, throwing his black hair over his face and obscuring fine features.

"Come on, Xanatos, you obstinate fool. Just fall already and we can get on with our lives."

He remembered when Xanatos had come to him and told him that his days with the Jedi were over. He had a met a girl and fallen in love and because of her disapproval he wanted out.

"You know right now, Xan, that Yoda won't let that happen easily. You don't just up and announce you're leaving the Jedi and then have them say 'Oh, alright, fine. Have a lovely life and here's a parting gift for you. Good luck to you in your new life.' They will see it as a breach of honour and as twisted as their concept of it is; they will most likely have you killed for it. I would have to be the one to do it and I can't do that."

"I know, Jinn, but still she said she doesn't want to read about what the Jedi do in the newspaper anymore and know I was there. This whole thing is bullshit and you know it!"

"Bullshit or not, they're not going to let you go. You pledged allegiance to them."

"I can't spend the rest of my life following around an old troll and his thugs."

"There is no honour in taking that sort of risk in order to get laid, Xan..."

"I will have won my freedom fair and square. I will be able to go back to her a free man. To me, that is honour."

"Twisted..."

"I hope you fall in love one day so you know how far you would go."

Looking at the boy now, Jinn was wondering if he would still find it worth it. Xanatos had been lucky that it had been him and not Mace called on to dole out this "send off". Most likely Mace would have killed him by now. Not that he himself had been too gentle on the boy, but he had to make a good showing of it.

Damn it, why didn't Yoda call this off? This had gone far enough, could he not see the boy had sufficiently paid? It now became obvious to him that this was no longer about honour, but anger. This went against what they were supposed to believe in. Honour over anger. They were not supposed to let their actions be guided by anger that was the way. But Yoda was angry with Xan for leaving. Jinn spared a glance up to the platform where Mace and Yoda stood presiding over this perverse ritual.

Yoda was a small man and his physical deformities lent to a troll like appearance, which had been the root of a childhood of neglect and torment by his peers thus producing the semi-insane dark creature who ruled the gang today. When Mace had first brought him before Yoda to petition his entrance into the gang, the wild eyed cackling old man had made Jinn his chief enforcer after he had passed his initiation trials. It had only been after he had gained entrance to the gang that he realized what a truly twisted creature the old man was on the inside. Yoda liked to dispense Zen-like snippets of his perverse philosophies to rationalise anything from petty theft to murder.

They all referred to it jokingly as the Jedi Code. Anger, passion and fear were all things to be avoided. Or as Yoda would put it, "A Jedi seeks not these things."

The wail of police sirens pulling up to the outside of the warehouse where the gang members had congregated for this final farewell to Xanatos, called the abrupt end of the ritualised beating. Almost like a spell that had been cast over the boy had been suddenly broken, Xanatos slumped to his hands and knees, spitting blood onto the ground.

Gang members almost tripped over each other in their rush to escape the warehouse to their motorcycles parked in to forested area behind. Jinn stalked over to Xanatos and offered his hand to help the boy up. Xanatos waived the hand away and looked up at him and his broken and bleeding lips pulled back from his teeth in a smile of triumph.

He felt sickened at what he had to do to the boy and wished there was some way he could wipe away the damage. But it had been Xanatos' choice and no amount of wishing could change that now. "Well, lad, I hope you still find the price worth it," he whispered, "Good bye, Xan, I will miss you."

"I will miss you too, but now I am free."

He looked down at the bloodied face one last time and flushed with embarrassment. What the boy had said was true. Jinn smiled down at him, turned and rushed to the platform where Yoda was still waiting for him.

Yoda was leaning over and saying something to Mace. When he saw Jinn approaching he gestured Mace and grabbed his cane and hobbled to the edge of the platform. He helped him clamber down and half supported the hobbling old man as they started to make their escape.

It was at that point he noticed that Mace was not with them. He turned around and saw Mace heading toward Xanatos with the thin club with the ball on one end, the weapon that earned him his nickname, in his hand. Before he could call out or even start back toward them Mace swung the club around in a high arc and it contacted with Xanatos face.

He did not need to see the blood nor the bone shards spray out from Xanatos' head to know. The boy was dead before he fell completely to the ground. He cried out and let go of Yoda and started back toward the fallen form, his heart beating wildly in his chest. "Jinn, away we must go. Now!" Yoda's tone left no room for argument.

Jinn bit back the words and grief and continued to head to his motorcycle gang, his heart constricting tightly in his chest and his stomach in turmoil, but his face a mask of emotionless passivity. They could never see his weakness.

Working evenings suited Ben Kenobi just fine. If he could work only when the library was closed altogether that would even be better but seeing as that was just next door to impossible he really didn't mind the quiet evenings. As he pushed the cart laden with books down the narrow aisles in the stacks, pausing every once in a while to reshelve a book into its proper place, he would dread that he may perhaps run into someone who was still there reading. Maybe someone using one of the multiple instructional language audiocassettes boning up on some foreign tongue enough to "get by" when they depart on their latest holiday. Perhaps there would be a student from the high school frantically researching for a paper due the next day. He dreaded running into any of these possibilities, because that person would ultimately feel the need to try and converse with him.

Tonight, luck was not on his side. "Hi, Ben!" the chirpy voice came from behind him causing him to whirl around and back into his cart.

"Oh...um... h-hi," he answered as he took another step back from the young woman whom he decided was still uncomfortably in his personal space.

"So, how have you been recently?" she asked him earnestly. He had always been a shy man and though in the beginning many young women had found him incredibly attractive and tried to garner his attention, Ben would ultimately hurry on by them hoping to feign never even having noticed them, so eventually they had given up. For the most part.

"Ummmm..." he paused, shifting uncomfortably. He ran a hand over his close-cropped hair, breaking eye contact and staring resolutely at a spot on the ceiling. "G-good, good."

Ben felt a flush creeping into his face, so he shifted his focus to the ground just in front of the woman's shoes. He removed his glasses to clean them on the end of his tie.

When it became apparent that he would make no further effort to continue the conversation the you woman finally ventured," Oh, well that's...nice. It's been good talking to you."

Assuming that would be the end of the conversation, Ben put the wire- rim glasses back on his face and adjusted them unnecessarily and started to turn around to face his cart again.

"Oh, Ben," she continued.

Ben felt himself flinch slightly, "Yes?"

"Could you show me where you keep Martha Stewart's Guide to Feng Shui?"

Ben hurriedly started pushing the cart up the remainder of the aisle and without turning around said softly, "Oh... well we don't have that particular book... b-but y-you can find others like it two rows over, m- middle shelf."

When he rounded the corner into the next empty aisle, he breathed a sigh of relief.

After years of working as the assistant librarian and keeping the odd hours he did, he had managed to limit his social contact to the point where he could safely get through almost an entire week without having to converse with another human being. This had earned him the reputation in the town as being a somewhat eccentric recluse and the rumours spawned up from there.

Some people would say that truth was due to some tragic accident he couldn't talk and was doomed to live out his days in silence. Other would say that he was just a snob kid from an ivy league school who would not stoop so low as to engage in idle chit chat with the local folk. Others would point to a darker past where his presence in the town was to be kept a secret at all costs. Ben would eventually hear the whispering behind his back and just smile to himself and think "Gossipy bunch of busybodies. And you wonder why I like to keep me to me..."

Soon the evening's cataloguing was done and Ben went back into the stacks. Ben chose one of his favourite books of all time, Tristan and Iseult, and then went to his office to read. He still could not admit he would always go in there to hide. But why couldn't real people be more like the characters in his books? In there, the good guys were always good, the princesses were always virtuous and in the end the bad guy was always brought to justice. Ben sighed and began... chapter one...

"But you didn't have to kill him, Mace, it was as senseless as it was cruel... and you know it" he spat out at the brawny dark skinned man.

"You know by now, Jinn, that once you align yourself with the Jedi you can't just leave. This isn't a democracy! With what he knew he could have us all skewered and then where would we be?" Mace pulled himself up as tall as he could make himself in order that his opponent could not cowe him with just sheer size. Jinn was an intimidating man when he wanted to be. With his long brown hair now touched so slightly with the silver that belied his age and the beard lined jaw, it had been hard for any witness to be sure of what he truly looked like. The worn leather jacket hid the solid musculature of his mostly tattooed torso and his hands were large and rough from years of fighting and hard labour.

He was menacing looking all right, but Mace knew him better. He saw the gentleness in Jinn's eyes that let him know that every time he was made to fight for the honour of the gang a little part of him died on the inside. Mace knew he was only there because of the loyalty he owed him for getting him out of being sent to prison in his own country. He knew all of Jinn's little secrets and used them to his advantage when he was on one of his righteous crusades and might actually put action behind his harsh words.

"Jinn, get hold of yourself. Xanatos was just another street rat. No one is going to miss him at all. I mean I know YOU had your eye on him..."

"Take that back, Mace, before you go far enough to regret it"

"It's no secret to me. Did you imagine that pretty face telling a tired old beast as yourself that he loved you? Wanted to be with you? Admit it... it killed you when he found himself a piece of tail and wanted out... you're just angry cuz you LIKED putting the beating on him... punishing him for not loving you..."

"Stop it, Mace"

"You're just angry that I had the guts to do what you didn't..."

Jinn pulled his fist back and snarled with rage at his accuser. But as quickly as the rage had filled him he took a deep breath and let it go. He had promised himself a long time ago he would never strike anyone in anger. No matter what they made him do, it would be without thought of malice, hate or anger. They may control his actions, but he owned his soul and would never let himself be reduced to the beast they saw him as. He unclenched his fist and let his arm drop down to his side useless.

Mace realized that once again he had won the match of intimidation and a smile alighted on his face as he threw his arm around his comrade, "You really are something else. How about you and me go to a bar and drink to forget tonight..."

Jinn nodded mutely and started out the door with Mace. While Mace knew of his sexual preferences and kept his secret, he did not understand. Jinn did love Xan, that much was true; but it was more the love of a father to son or a teacher for his favourite pupil. It had never been lust, but it was working to His advantage in this case if Mace thought it was. If Mace believed that the feeling were only of a base sexual nature, he would not know that what had just happened to Xanatos was ripping Jinn apart.

Just as Mace and he were about to reach the door, it flew open and Plo rushed in "Yoda says saddle up. The law is on the warpath and we're takin' off to lay low out of town until it blows over!"

Jinn sighed and headed to Yoda's room to collect the old man. When he arrived, Yoda was ready to leave already. There would be no room for argument.

"Yoda, I was just thinking..."

"Leave the thinking to someone more accustomed to it you will. Made for muscle you are, not for thought" came the sharp reply. He helped the old man hobble out to the bike and got the old troll settled in the sidecar. He threw one leg over the bike and straddled the seat. One thrust to the kick-start and the bike roared to life.

This was the only part that Jinn actually liked. The ride. On the large and thunderous bike he could lose himself, focus and just feel. At times like this, he forgot who he was and where he was and just let the bike take him where it will. A sharp rap to the shin with a cane brought him out of his reverie as Yoda pointed frantically with the cane in the direction of the freeway. So it would be a long trip. Good. It would give him time to compose and reflect.

The miles slipped by to Jinn as if they were nothing. The steady vibration of the bike and the constant roar of the engine had lulled him into the place within his mind all his own.

After they had been riding for a long time, Yoda signalled to him to take the next exit. They started down a much smaller road. The sides of the road were lined with unbroken lines of trees. There seemed to be no sign of towns along this particular stretch of road, but on the horizon Jinn saw they were approaching what appeared to be some sort of building. Yoda pointed at the building with his cane and to indicate to the large man that that's where they were heading. As they approached it, Jinn saw that it was an abandoned motel.

"Well, so be it," he thought and pulled into the run down parking lot and pulled to a stop, "Home sweet home." He thought sarcastically.

Fairly soon, after their arrival, the gang had settled into their new surroundings. First, they stashed their bikes in the dense forest on the side of the motel furthest from the road so passing motorists would not spot them. After they had each taken one of the closed up, musty smelling, rooms for themselves and soon after settled into their own routines.

First things first, Jinn removed the sidecar from his bike. He and Mace were in charge of scouting out any small towns around the area of the motel in order to collect the supplies they would need and he wanted to remove any apparent distinguishing features on his bike.

Yoda trusted them to this because they were the most careful of all of the gang. They would stagger their visits to different stores in different towns so they would not become too easily recognisable to the locals or they would be easily dismissed as transients passing through.

Yoda was not allowing the rest of the gang to roam too far from the hideout, especially at night. He did not want the gang to be tempted to start frequenting any of the bars and making their faces known. Or worse, starting fights and drawing the attention of the local authorities. A low profile was absolutely necessary at this point.

It was the evenings that were almost unbearable to Jinn. With the whole gang confined into such close proximity, he was not able to find the privacy he wanted in order to finally grieve for Xanatos. He just kept ruthlessly tamping down the feelings that threatened to surface every time he heard the boy's name mentioned, even in passing. He found he could no longer tolerate the company of the people that he had at one point considered a sort of loose brethren to him and therefore spent most evenings in his room playing cards and drinking beer with Mace.

"HA! Gin, Jinn," Mace smiled as he triumphantly slapped his hand of cards down on the table.

"Yeah, you got me," Jinn half smiled back at Mace. He folded his cards into a neat pile, placed them face first down on the table and folded his hands one over the other beneath his chin propping his elbows on the table.

Mace grabbed the deck and started to reshuffle the cards, "What's going on?" he asked lifting his eyes to meet Jinn's.

"Hm? Oh, nothing," Jinn replied calmly.

"You look about a million miles away. You surely can't be tired of this game already; I've only kicked your ass once so far." Mace said

Jinn chuckled a bit and said, "There's nothing wrong, really. Now keep the comments to yourself and just deal the cards."

Mace laughed and dealt out another hand. He won the round quickly and without effort. He dealt again and again the round was his in a matter of minutes. After about an hour of this Mace finally did not even reach for the cards when Jinn conceded defeat.

"Okay, now I know there's something up. Usually you at least put in a good showing at this. You got something going on in there, I know it."

"Mace, can't I even have one off night without you assuming there is something behind it?"

"Oh let's see...no. Out of all the years we've played cards against each other I could've counted on one hand the number of times I won a hand. Tonight I've won every single round. So either in one day I have managed to get a lot better at this game, or you are not trying. And I like the odds on the second," Mace replied and took another swig out of his beer.

"I am just beginning to feel a little enclosed here, you know what I mean? It's like living in a prison. I guess I am just suffering from cabin fever," Jinn finally replied, gesturing absently with one hand.

All of a sudden Mace's eyes widened and his smile broadened, "I think I know EXACTLY what you mean... you're itchin' to go out and get some."

"Well, no that's not exactly what I meant," Jinn started smile.

"Well, sure it is. I mean it's something I can understand. Most guys out here either have their old ladies with them, like me, or they are too stoned or drunk to care. You don't do drugs as far as I can tell and you don't really drink either. Given your... well... preferences, you can't possibly bring an old lady along with you. Trust me I totally get it."

Jinn was about to correct him again, when Mace unwittingly stumbled onto a plan that would suit Jinn just fine, "You know. I was in your boat last time we were here laying low. Well not exactly your boat, but you catch my drift. Anyway, there is a way you can sneak out of here being undetected by Yoda. When we get in tomorrow afternoon, leave your bike in the undergrowth at the end of the motel near the road. Yoda won't check. After we have reported in to him and everything is squared up, go get your bike and wheel it far enough you think it'll be out of earshot, then fire her up. There is a town Yoda knows nothing about. It's bigger than the rest, but further away. Like, maybe two miles from here. You could go there and find someone who can help you. I'll come in here like usual and after a while leave and tell people you passed out drunk or something."

Jinn thought it over and decided he liked the idea. Getting away for a while where he could be by himself was just what he did need, so he agreed to go along with Mace's plan.

The next day when they rode back in to the motel parking lot, Jinn covered his bike right where Mace had told him. He and Mace reported in to Yoda, gave him a full account of their whereabouts and dropped off the supplies that had been requested by various members of the gang.

Jinn waited until dusk before putting the plan into action. When Jinn had made sure no one was watching him, slipped around the end of the motel and retrieved his bike.

He pushed the heavy machine up the road quite a distance. Probably a little further than necessary he thought, grimly, but he would not take the chance of being discovered. He then climbed on and kick started the engine.

Following the instructions Mace had given him the previous evening; he soon found himself what he assumed to be the town Mace had described. Now while this town was larger than the others in the area, it was by no means a bustling metropolis and Jinn began to doubt the wisdom that brought him here.

He travelled down what appeared to be the main street of the, what could only be described as cosy, town. The whole place seemed to be festooned with autumn garlands and Halloween decorations. Neat and proper Victorian styled stores (with large festive salutations in their windows) lined unmarred sidewalks. Well-appointed street lamps, styled to look like old gas-lamps, dotted the edges of the pavement. The boulevard in the road was filled with autumn flowering plants and neatly edged trees enclosed a riverside park.

"I have died and gone to Dickens' Village," Jinn whistled lowly to himself, "What the hell was Mace thinking? Oh well, I am here now."

In order to not cause any more stir than absolutely necessary, Jinn road his bike down behind the park and wheeled it into a copse of trees. He removed his crash helmet and on quick inspection of his appearance in the rear view mirror of his bike, decided to remove his jacket and bandana as well. He pulled his hair back into a half tail and decided that would be about the best he could so to not cause too much unwanted attention to come his way.

Jinn walked into the park.

The autumn evening was cool and while by no means cold, brisk enough that a lugubrious mist was starting to form over the slow moving river and roll over the bank into the edge of the park. The trees had already started to change into their autumn colours, but seemed not to dare drop a single leaf onto the well-manicured lawn.

Jinn pulled the collar of his flannel shirt up slightly and tucked his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans and began to doubt the wisdom of leaving his jacket back with his bike. "Ah, it's only just bracing," he told himself, "You've endured worse and that's for sure."

The silence of the park was only broken by the sound of Jinn's own footfalls as he walked onto a paved path and went forward aimlessly. Lamps, much like the ones that lined the streets of the town, were placed at regular intervals alongside the path to bravely defend any passers-by from the darkness. Jinn noted though the park seemed not to contain another living soul as far as he could see.

As he passed by a cannon mounted on a concrete slab, he decided that this might be as good a place as any to sit for a while. He would be pretty much guaranteed to not be disturbed there. So he took a seat on the concrete, in the shadow cast by the cannon under the lamps.

Jinn tipped his head back to look up into the sky. The moon was peeking her full face from behind a light cloud cover and the stars, like so many diamonds, seemed to dance and twinkle in their endless trip though the heavens.

He remembered looking up into a sky very much like this one when he had been a very young boy and the parish priest telling him, "Ah Quentin, lad, those stars a certainly lovely tonight. Did you know they are the windows in heaven? Aye, `tis true. The angels use them to watch over us all while we sleep."

Jinn, of course, now knew better but as he looked up into the sky he could have sworn that he did see a star he had never seen before. The black ink of the sky and the silver of the moon reminded his so much of Xanatos his heart started to ache. All the beauty of night sky had been captured in that boy and now it only seemed fitting that he should be a part of it. Would he watch with kindness on Jinn, though?

"That wasn't it the way I would have had it end, you know it," he thought furiously at the night. Still the stars gave no indication of hearing him.

The happy barking of a dog suddenly shattered the silence of the night. Jinn froze and tried to pull further into the shadow. Almost instantly he saw the dog round the corner and turn back to look toward something or someone else behind it. It's strange corkscrew curled tail whipped around in a frenzied circle as it watched and panted. It then tipped its long muzzle into the air and Jinn could hear the audible sniffing. The dog turned and looked directly at Jinn and lowered its head slightly and let out a warning "Woof" in his direction.

Jinn slowly started to come out of the shadow, not positive the dog was friendly but definitely wanting to be already standing if it decided to give chase. By the collar and the slightly portly build of the dog, he did manage to ascertain that this was definitely someone's pet. Perhaps when the owner caught up they would be kind enough to call their dog off if Jinn could prove he posed no threat.

That thought was quickly erased as the dog started to approach him. Its head was cocked to one side and it's hackles were not raised so Jinn relaxed slightly. It walked all the way up to him and then shoved its nose directly into his crotch.

Jinn was not sure what to do. He certainly did not want to make any sudden move and startle the animal, as that was definitely a place he did not want to get bitten. So he stood there while the dog finished its inspection.

"Hey, Tavi! What didja find, girl? You're leaving the squirrels alone I hope," the laughing voice of a young man preceded its owner in coming around the bend in the path.

Jinn went to say something to the young man, but his voice died in his throat. Jinn had seen many attractive men in his life, but this young man was truly beautiful.

His tawny hair was reflected in the lamplight and large eyes, which smallish wire rimmed glasses obscured the colour of, stared at him unblinking. Unlike some young men, he was not all angles, but rather had a soft and curved jaw line that gave him an almost feminine quality. The creamy skin of his face was dotted with two small but noticeable moles, but otherwise was smooth and flawless. It looked as if all the colours of a sunny autumn day had been used to paint him.

He was medium in height, slender in build and long fingered, elegant hands hung limply down by his sides. The suit pants and dress shirt, which peeked out slightly from under the brown bomber jacket, told Jinn immediately that this young man was a professional of some sort.

"I seem to have found your dog, my young friend," Jinn said in his most placating voice, when he found it.

Ben's heart was beating wildly in his chest. He had taken the dogs out into the park at this time every night for years and never run into anyone else. Now he was faced with this tall and dangerous looking stranger.

"Now what? Do I just back away? What if he follows? Maybe he doesn't mean any harm. Maybe he's a vagrant, was sleeping under the cannon and upset Tavi woke him. Or maybe he's a thief and he's going to mug me," Ben's panicked mind raced, "He's got Tavi... Oh where's Nanuk already?"

Ben took an unconscious step backward, not daring to take his eyes off the stranger. "Don't worry. I mean you no harm," the stranger said as he took a step toward Ben. The fight or flight reflex then kicked in and Ben started to back up quickly. Suddenly his whole world seemed to go on end as the backs of his knees connected with the side of the errant Nanuk, who had decided to return at that moment and help his master out by standing firmly behind him making his strange "ooooooo" growl. He fell over backward and his breath left him in a rush as his back connected solidly with the paved path, his glasses getting knocked off and landing beside him.

Nanuk yelped slightly and scurried out from behind him with his tail tucked between his legs. Ben then heard a low and muffled chuckling coming from the stranger. Incredibly the stranger was now walking toward Ben with one hand outstretched, "Here, let me..."

Ben crab walked backward as fast as he could move in that awkward position, "P-please... d-don't hurt me!"

The stranger stopped and Ben got to his feet. "H-here... t-take whatever y-you want. D-don't c-come any c-closer though!" he said as he took out his wallet and practically threw it at the stranger as he turned and fled back up the path.

Tavi turned and looked at Jinn, let out a long suffering sigh and followed after her master.

Ben did not stop running until he got to his house. He threw open the front door and, once he and the two dogs were inside, he shut it again and locked it. Ben rested his head against the back of the door, panting. He would certainly not be able to sleep tonight.

Jinn stood staring into the empty path where the young man had retreated. He should have been annoyed about the immediate conclusion the youth had jumped to, but Jinn knew he was no angel. Under different circumstances he may have decided to liberate the young man of a few personal belongings. "No," Jinn thought shaking his head ruefully. Truth was he couldn't have hurt or violated in any way anyone that startlingly beautiful.

Jinn retrieved that wallet and glasses from the ground and tucked them into his shirt pocket and went to get his bike.

When Jinn was safely back in his room, he finally allowed himself to open the wallet and look in. "Only to find the identification of the owner so I can return it, " he told himself. Jinn pulled out a driver's liscence, "So, Ben Kenobi, what can you tell me about yourself? Where can I find you? Going to your home would be out of the question. Where do you work?"

Then Jinn found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small white identification card with the words "Thames Valley East Library Association" on it.

The main branch of the Thames Valley East libraries was larger than one would expect for a small town. It was a boxy red-bricked building on a rough-hewn grey stone base with large rectangular windows sectioned off into many small squares. Along the top of the building and just under the eve's trough, a long, thin piece of concrete was sunk into the wall. On it were carved the words Public Library.

Inside, the atmosphere was quiet and inviting. A large, dark wooden staircase dominated the centre of the room and lead to the upper level. Behind the staircase, row after orderly row of shelves were visible. To the left of the stairs was a long wooden table surrounded by several heavyset chairs with green upholstery. To the left was the librarian's desk and office.

The desk itself was plain, solid and made out of a warm honey coloured wood. Whereas the rest of the room was primarily lit with banks of humming fluorescent lights, the desk was under several suspended lamps with green glass shades.

Ben sat on a stool behind the desk, holding a piece of yellow paper up at eye level. He slowly drew the paper out so that it was at arms length from his face, frowned and then drew it in so it was almost touching the tip of his nose. He tilted the paper slightly askew and then squinted his eyes almost shut. It was no use; he could not make out what was written on the sheet before him. "I guess I will have to make an appointment and get a new set of glasses," sighed Ben inwardly. There hardly seemed to be any point of him even trying to get to the cataloguing that night even if he'd have to listen to Mrs Flynn, the head librarian, complain for the next week about having to do it. "What, with my bunions and bursitis and all, I can't be expected to do all the work around here, young man..." he could almost hear her.

Ben hopped of the stool and walked back into the office and sat heavily in the desk chair. It would be at least an hour before he could close the doors for the evening (he ascertained by squinting harshly at the wall clock mounted in the office and willing the numbers to come into focus) and without his glasses, it would be a long evening since he would not even be able to spend the quiet time reading. For the first time he could remember, Ben wished that there were people in the library so he could spend the evening checking books out in order to pass the time. At the very least he could still work a rubber stamper in his blurry world.

The sound of the front desk bell made Ben jump slightly. Ben hesitated for a moment, reluctant to get up. "I take it back... I take it back..." he thought. Now that the occasion had arisen, Ben found he was not as eager to face people in his current state of blindness as he had thought. Ben finally got up and peered out the door of the office. But there was no shape of a person at his counter at all. Blurred or otherwise. Ben laughed slightly to himself "Well, either your imagination has got the better of you or else you are being haunted!"

No sooner had Ben turned around when the bell rang again. Ben wheeled around on his heel and saw the blurred shape of a large person standing at the counter.

"H-h-hello?" he called to the figure.

"Ah! There you are young man. I do believe we have some unfinished business," a deep and lilting voice said to Ben.

"W-we do?" stammered out Ben

"Yes, come here. I have something that belongs to you!"

Ben approached the desk cautiously. He was sure he had heard the voice before. "Surely it can't be the thief!" he thought.

"Come here, my young friend, I promise I won't bite!" the voice said with the mild tone of a chuckle in it, "Put out your hand"

Ben stepped forward and put his hand out. He felt mildly silly doing this as it had been a while since he had played "hold out your hand and get a big surprise" at least since he was about 5 and his favourite uncle would pass him extra treats this way.

Ben felt something light and wiry fall into his open palm and recognised it for what it was immediately. "Oh, th-thank you! You have no idea how much I needed these!" he said as he opened the glasses and put them on. Ben was smiling despite himself as he looked up at his benefactor and the smile froze on his face.

"Y-you!" he said backing into the wall behind him.

"Now, now s that any way to talk to someone who has gone through a bit of difficulty and some travelling to return your belongings?"

"Y-you took them!" Ben said.

"I didn't! If you remember you threw them at me and I never made one move to take them. I could have kept them, but I didn't" the even voice of the stranger said with some reproach.

Ben looked on silently as the stranger withdrew his wallet from a pocket and dropped it onto the desk, "I think you will find everything is in order."

Jinn looked at Ben as the young man stared at him agog. Jinn could not help but notice that even under the harsh indoor lights that he was a lovely creature.

Jinn knew he should have backed out of the library at that moment and beat a hasty retreat but he could not help but stare back at Ben. He was like a moth trapped by this being that seemed to be made of light. More than ever he wanted to somehow connect with him.

"I-is there anything else?" Ben said to him. Jinn scanned the desk before him in an attempt to find something, anything he could use to engage the young man in a conversation. Then his eyes alighted on a book tucked away on the side of the desk.

"Yes, I want to check out that book!" Jinn had to admit that he panicked as he pointed to the book sitting on the desk.

Ben walked forward, adjusted his glasses and looked at the spine of the book. "O-oh this? You d-don't want this..." Ben started as Jinn snatched the book from his grasp.

"No, no this is precisely the type of thing I was looking for!" said Jinn brightly and hoping his voice did not shake as he brushed Ben's hand in the process of retrieving the book.

Ben could only stare at the stranger as he held his beloved Tristan and Iseult. He really looked at the face of the stranger. Though the man before him was imposing in stature, Ben was fixated on his eyes. There was something about them that was comforting and gentle, like a long forgotten memory. Ben stood looking into the eyes of the stranger before him and felt as if he felt as if he were seeing the man for the first time. Jinn turned started to leave. Ben found himself desperate to look at those eyes once more and gathered all his courage and called after him "I am quite p-positive that's not the b-book you were looking for!"

"Oh? And why not?" Jinn turned and said to Ben as he turned back, his voice hinting at a mild humour, "Perhaps you think someone like me would not be interested in this sort of literature? Perhaps you think that its intricacies would be lost? Really, my young friend, I was thinking there was more to you than such a small town, narrow- minded opinion of someone you have never really met! This is the second time you have jumped to a snap conclusion about me. First, you assumed that I was in the park in order to thieve your personal belongings and now you assume that I would not be interested in such a simple tale. I would expect so much more from someone of your education. I had not such an advantage, but I did learn in my experience that you cannot always judge a book by its cover. You of all people should know that!"

Ben turned and walked back into the office, his ears stained a furious scarlet. His heart was beating madly as it had been when he had first met this stranger. This time, it was a combination of fear and of anger. How dare this unkempt stranger accuse him of being no better than the rest of the people in this town! Underlying it all there was a new emotion that Ben could not pinpoint.

When Ben ventured back out to the desk he saw a folded piece of paper on the rim. When he unfolded it he felt his heart catch. It was a note that read "Ben, I apologize if I struck a nerve at our last meeting. When I return this book I look forward to giving you the chance to redeem yourself. Quentin."

Ben had not slept well the night after Jinn had left the note in the library. He had been shocked and angry when he got home. "How dare he..." he thought furiously. "Well I... It was late and LOOK at him... How was I supposed to know what he wanted?" Ben had tossed and turned all night. Every time he shut his eyes, he could almost imagine Quentin's face in front of him, mocking him and telling him he was a small-minded fool. But, as soon as that apparition had appeared, another one took over. The Quentin he had seen in the library. The eyes of the mocking man changed into the sad and gentle eyes he remembered.

He had finally managed to get a few hours as the sun started to rise and warm orange light peeked through his bedroom window. Of course after he did get to sleep, he then overslept and had to rush to get himself together and get out the door in time (while trying also to feed, bathroom and play with the dogs who were looking very confused at their master's odd behaviour). When he arrived at the library in the early afternoon to receive his instructions for the evening from Mrs Flynn and start his shift, he looked all the worse for wear. His usually neat appearance was somewhat rumpled, his face unshaven and dark rings marred the delicate skin under his eyes.

"Bloody hell, dear. If I didn't know you better I would say you were out all night last night!" said the soft and kind voice of the Mrs Flynn, the head librarian.

Ben smiled slightly at the older woman. She had a kind, round face and a quiet demeanour about her that had appealed to Ben immediately, "You kn-know me M-Mrs Flynn, always the w-wild one!"

Mrs Flynn's eyes sparkled mischievously at the young man but she thought better of teasing him too harshly, she did not want to get treated to the absolute silence that had predominated their early relationship. "Do you feel okay, dear?" she asked. " If your not, then you should go home and I can cover your shift tonight. But what with the bursitis acting up again..."

"Oh, yes. I just... I mean... Trouble sleeping. I can work." Ben replied hastily.

Mrs Flynn asked him catalogue the new arrivals (which would mean another evening of wrangling those horrible little cards into a typewrite and wishing that Mrs Flynn would let him set up a computer database for the books) and shelve the books including the ones he seemed to have missed the night before. She put on her jacket, tied a scarf around her head and over her ears and was just about to leave when she turned to Ben and said," Oh yes, one more thing, dear. A gentleman was here to see you. Tall with long hair and a beard. Said to tell you he would not be in to see you tonight because of some business he had to attend to. Didn't much like the look of him, mind..."

"Old friend of the family's," Ben blurted out before he could help himself, "He's...uh...in a town nearby on business." His voice ended on an undignified squeak.

"Oh, what sort of business? If you don't mind me asking?" Mrs Flynn was now eyeing him curiously.

"H-he's a ... Um... A d-dentist!" Ben stammered out.

"A dentist? Well you certainly wouldn't be able to tell by looking at him... but I guess there's just no telling sometimes. Good afternoon, Ben," she said as she turned and left.

"G-good afternoon, M-Mrs F-Flynn" replied Ben, his face a furious shade of red. He hated lying more than anything and never dreamed he would to Mrs Flynn, so why had he felt it necessary just then?

Ben went about his routine that night and good to his word, Jinn did not return. He found himself kind of disappointed that he didn't. He had resolved (at around 6 am) that he would actually like the opportunity to prove that he was anything but ignorant and he hoped his resolve to talk with Jinn would stick with him.

Each day Ben would go into work half hoping and half dreading that Jinn would return or send word about his absence. Each day Ben would go home again disappointed. He was beginning to get a sinking feeling he would never see Jinn again. "Why does it matter to me so much?" he thought bitterly, but still the anticipation continued, until Ben abandoned all hope of seeing him again. "I wish he would come back just once," he thought, to which he hastily added, "So I can get my book back!"

The evening of the first snowfall, ushering in the undeniable truth that autumn was just about at an end and winter was most definitely on the horizon, was just the same as every other evening to Ben. He had long ago ceased to see the wonder and beauty of that first evening snow with the large, wet, white flakes dancing in chiaroscuros in the eddies in the wind against a sky painted in indigo and magenta, all he saw in it was a walk he would soon have to shovel.

He was at the front desk hunched over the library's archaic typewriter trying to centre yet another of those damnable little cards and his patience was starting to lose the war against the infernal machine. Ben was so intent on the task at hand he did not hear the soft chime at the front door of the building.

Ben's tongue was poking out the side of his mouth as he gazed intently at his nemesis. He tentatively punched a key on the typewriter and looked at the resulting letter... It was too low. "Bloody piece of crap machinery! Why does she not just get me a computer already?" Ben muttered to himself as he reached to yank the card out from the typewriter.

"Temper, temper" came the low and teasing voice.

Ben shot straight back from the stool he was sitting on at the desk, and in his effort upending the stool. His ass slammed into the hardwood floor and his head with the wall behind him. His feet however clung stubbornly to the stool rungs around which they had been curled.

"Are you all right?" Jinn called down to him, his eyes filled with a mixture of humour and concern.

"I-I th-think so" Ben said as he rubbed at the goose egg forming on the back of his head.

Jinn hopped over the counter and helped Ben extricate his legs from the rungs, watched as he then felt his shins for any damage and helped Ben to his feet. "A bit of an excitable lad, aren't you? Or do you just like to show off your feats of tumbling acrobatics whenever I am around?" Jinn chided.

"I-it's n-not my f-fault! Th-the few t-times w-we have m-met, y-you have sn-snuck up on m-me!" Ben replied with hot indignation.

"Really? And here I thought either you were just swept up by my natural charm and magnetism, or else really clumsy." Jinn laughed as he started to brush off Ben's shoulders. Something in that touch suddenly sent what felt like a mild electric current through Ben's body and he backed away from Jinn in an instant.

Jinn made no further attempt to try and reach out again, but instead reached back to the counter and picked up the book he had placed on it before trying to get Ben's attention, "Here, I have brought you back your book!"

Ben looked at the book, smiled and took it from Jinn's hand. He looked at the book for a long time and said nothing else. When it became apparent that contact had once again been cut-off, Jinn thought, "Bugger this!" turned and started to head toward the front of the library. He had almost reached the door when a voice called softly from behind him, "H-how did you l-like it?"

Jinn smiled to himself and turned to face Ben, "Oh, I thought it was marvellous. But then I thought it was marvellous the first time I read it."

Ben looked at Jinn in what he hoped was an interested way and not how he felt, which was total disbelief. He summoned all his courage again and said, "Oh, you h-had read it b-before?"

Jinn chuckled, "Oh yes, many years ago. It was required reading even back when I was at university you know."

"Y-you went to... What u-univers-sity did you go t-to?" Ben caught his mistake he hoped before Jinn would catch it and his attempt to prove Jinn wrong would be ended right there.

"University College, Dublin. Never graduated, but I started in the English lit course there. Always fancied myself one day to be some sort of teacher." When Jinn got to the end of the sentence his voice had trailed off.

"So, y-you like Tr-Tristan and Iseult then, which is g-good," Ben ventured, changing the subject, "M-may I m-make a suggestion t-to another book th-then?"

"Of course, my young friend," Jinn said as he walked back to the counter.

"H-have you r-read M-Madame Bovary?" Ben asked hoping that his voice remained somewhat steady because his body was starting to tremble. There was something about being held in that azure gaze that made him feel like he was something being studied under a microscope or worse yet, totally naked.

"No, I can't say I ever read that one," Jinn said thoughtfully.

"Oh w-well it's a g-good read if y-you like th-that sort of thing," Ben said as he broke eye contact with Jinn and looked resolutely at a nondescript spot on the desk in front of him.

"Are you also keeping it on the desk or were you planning on telling me where it was?" Jinn chided softly.

"O-oh, yes," Ben said as he snapped suddenly out of wherever he had travelled, "I-I have s-some shelving to d-do. I-I can sh-show you, I- if you like"

Jinn smiled and waited for Ben to come round the counter. Ben pushed the book cart toward the stacks and Jinn followed him a small distance behind, enjoying the view immensely. He had to admit Ben was a fine figure of a young man. Slender, but not overly so. How he hated the new too-thin look young men were trying to achieve where they managed to starve themselves out of certain... regions of which Jinn was certainly enjoying the view. Ben looked healthy and slightly muscled. "Probably from pushing that cart around all the time," he thought.

He was so enrapt in the shapely behind in front of him he was having a hard time keeping up with the conversation Ben was very valiantly still upholding. When Jinn referred to Nietzsche's "Beyond Good and Evil" as "a load of self indulgent tripe I wouldn't line a bird cage with," he was caught off guard when he heard a clear alto laugh and realised that it was coming from Ben. Jinn decided immediately he really liked the young man's laugh almost more than anything and it sounded like it hadn't been used in a while.

Ben could not stifle the laugh before it started. He couldn't help himself; the comment had been so unexpected. Embarrassed by his lapse, Ben regained control as soon as he could. Soon he stopped part way down one of the aisles in the stacks and reached up for Madame Bovary and turned to Jinn. "H-here it is," Ben said, handing the book to Jinn (who for some reason had a rather sheepish look on his face). When Jinn's hand brushed Ben's when he took the book that familiar electric current hit Ben again. He backed away and hurried out of the stacks.

Soon Jinn walked out of the stacks also and spied Ben back behind the desk. Jinn was about to walk right on by, figuring he had out-stayed his welcome, when he heard Ben say, "I r-really must i-insist you t- take the book out th-this time."

Jinn smiled and returned to the counter, "I must insist that my name is not entered in any computer database at the moment."

"Oh, w-we're not th-that sophisticated. It's all on c-cards," Ben said as he pointed forlornly at the typewriter, "M-Mrs Flynn, th-the head librarian re-refuses to get a computer s-system." He smiled slightly as he shook his head.

Jinn gave him an appraising look and then gave him his personal information. Ben looked surprised, "I th-thought that p-place was abandoned!"

"Not as abandoned as you might think..."

Jinn was just about to the door when with his final bit of courage Ben said, "S-so how d-did I do? Am I r-redeemed yet?"

"You are on the right path," Jinn said enigmatically and pushed the heavy front door open. "We will see how you do next time." With that he walked out into the snowy evening and Ben slumped against the counter, his legs having finally given out on him.

The middle of December brought with it dry, crisp sunny days and clear cold nights. Jinn had returned to the public library building almost every evening, ostensibly to return books he had borrowed and take new books out, but of course it was mostly a cover to spend time with Ben. In the few weeks he had spent with Ben he had seen quite a change in the young man. While Ben was still quiet and dreadfully shy, Jinn had noticed the glimmering of what might prove to be a wry sense of humour in his last couple of visits.

Yet there was an underlying sadness to Ben he could not quite put a finger on. While he was a ready enough conversation companion, after the first shaky outings, and seemed well versed in philosophy, literature and world events, his smile would freeze on his face and he would get flustered and quickly change the subject if Jinn inquired about his past. Jinn's only hint was in the books Ben would say were his all-time favourites: Tristan and Iseult, Madame Bovary, Dangerous Liaisons, La Traviatta and Manon Lescault. All of them were tragic tales of love, deceit and the corruption of youth.

Ben, for his part, was finding the once startling Jinn to be an erudite and charming conversationalist: as likely to quote some obscure religious text to make a point, as he was to use a whitticism from Oscar Wilde to drive that point home. He knew that Jinn was there to see him and this bothered him less and less on each conversation. He found he was usually looking quite forward to seeing Jinn again, which is why it disturbed him quite a bit when Jinn hadn't shown up for the last week and a bit and had not even left him so much as a note.

Ben lay awake one night staring at his bedroom ceiling. Usually he was a sound sleeper, but tonight it eluded him. Last time it had was also in a period when Quentin had an extended absence and this thought was nagging at him as much as concern for his new friend. His stomach felt as if it had been tied in writhing knots and his mind kept replaying the events of the last month; they were conspiring quite well to keep sleep at bay. He stared at the whorls of the artfully designed ceiling, his eyes tracing the patterns in the plaster again and again as if they held the secret to his rankled state of being.

Ben reached down and started to absent-mindedly stroke at one of Tavi's ears and the large brindled dog groaned and shifted her head closer to his hand without really waking up at all. She lay on her side, her head pillowed on Ben's stomach. Her ribcage rose and fell in a slow and steady rhythm. She did not seem to be disturbed by Ben's current state of wakefulness.

Her partner in crime, Nanuk, looked even less like he was particularly disturbed about anything at all. He was at the end of the bed on his back; his legs splayed out like the Christmas turkey. His upper lip was folded back over itself, exposing some of his sharp teeth. Every once in a while his hind legs would jerk spasmodically upward and he would issue a muffled "woof" as he was off in chase of that night's dreamscape prey.

The nocturnal activity of his two companions usually did not bother Ben, nor did the fact that they took up the lion's share of the bed; but then Ben was usually asleep before the two of them had finished whatever dog business was pressing in the rest of the house and decided to join him for the night. The crowding and movement was not helping his sleepless situation, nor was the fact his right leg had long since gone to sleep under the weight of Tavi's large head. Ben sat up and climbed out of bed (rousing groans of complaint from both dogs, but not actually rousing the dogs).

Ben walked out of his bedroom and into the darkened hallway and down to his kitchen. He turned the small light panel on the underside of his kitchen cabinets and the room filled with a dim, ambient light. He filled a small copper saucepan with milk and put it on the stove to warm up. "Perhaps this will calm me enough to get some sleep," he sighed.

He tried to clear his mind of all the thoughts that were rapid firing through his mind, taking several relaxing deep breaths through his nose. The sound of nails clicking against tile alerted to him to the fact that one of the dogs had wandered into the kitchen. He looked over at Tavi, who was looking at him as if to say, "Why are you up at this hour, silly human?" She turned herself about and with a great huff of air flopped down onto the tile and went back to sleep.

"Come out here to rub it in, did you?" Ben smiled at her. He took the now hot milk off the stove element, turned the stove off and carefully poured it into one of the mugs he had on his counter. He sat down on one of the stools situated at a long counter, which opened into his dining room.

He started to drink the warm beverage and felt some of the tightness ease from his shoulders. In the dim light and secure surroundings, Ben felt himself starting to unwind a little. As he took another sip, he began to formulate in his mind reasons for Quentin's unexplained absence. The irritable part of his mind started up again. "Why should you be worrying about him at all? It's not like he really matters in the long run. He's still almost a complete stranger. He's a grown man and has business of his own. Did you expect him to hang around forever while you make up your mind about... what?" That was a good question. Why was he so disturbed about Quentin's disappearance? Before Ben could start pursuing that line of thought again for the umpteenth time that night, a sharp knock at the door startled him. He spilled hot liquid down his chest as Tavi let out a low "woof" of threat.

He waved the front of his pyjama top out in front of him furiously, trying to cool down the scalding liquid. Then the knock at the front door came again a bit more frantic. "W-who is it?" Ben called out softly. The person at the door did not answer. Both dogs were now at the front door, Nanuk issuing his odd sounding growl and Tavi sitting on the floor with her odd looking curly tail thumping rapidly against the carpet. Ben took several hesitant steps toward the door and called again, a little louder, "Wh-who is it?"

A deep voice from the other side of the door said in a harsh whisper, "Ben, it's me, Quentin, please open the door!"

Ben went to the door and opened it. There stood Quentin looking at him with an odd indiscernible expression, "Can I come in?"

Ben stood back a bit and stammered, "Wh-wha? H-how? Y-you know I l- live here?"

Jinn walked in through the door and quickly closed it again. Nanuk backed away a bit still making the "ooooo" growl but Tavi advanced on Jinn, her tail still wagging.

Ben stood gaping at Jinn, his mouth slowly opening and closing as if he wanted to say something.

Jinn went over to the front room window and using the back of one large hand drew back the drapes ever so slightly and peered out into the darkness. He scanned slowly from left to right and seemed to be anxiously looking for someone or something. Ben noticed there was a limp to his walk and a slight tear in his jeans where there was a distinct bloodstain forming.

"Sorry for the late intrusion. I found your address when I looked at your driver's licence in order to return your wallet. I hope you don't mind," he said in a low and hurried voice. "With any luck this invasion of your privacy won't be long."

Ben stared at him with a mixture of shock, relief and the first flush of a white-hot anger he had not felt in a long time, "How d-dare you!"

"Really, I did say I was sorry and I saw a light on... So I figured that perhaps you were up," Quentin tried his most placating tone on the young man who was now trembling with fury. He could not quite keep the pleading out of his deep-set blue eyes.

"H-have you any i-idea how w-worried I was about you wh-when you didn't show up in th-the last while a-and not even s-said why?" Ben stammered. "A-and now y-you have the au-audacity to sh-show up here in th-the middle of the n-night after d-doing g-god knows what?"

"I am sorry for the intrusion, Ben," Quentin said to him in a murmur as his face fell slightly, "I can assure you it won't happen again."

Quentin started toward the door and winced as he put too much pressure on his injured leg. Ben's anger left him as suddenly as it came when he saw the blood stain start to get larger. "H-here. You're injured. I-I will get you s-something to bind th-that with at l-least."

Ben went back to his kitchen and fetched the small first aid kit he kept next to the stove. When he returned, Quentin had not made a move at all. They stood and regarded each other uncomfortably for a moment before Ben handed him the first aid kit and said, "B-bathroom is d-down the hall and se-second door on y-your right."

When Quentin returned from binding his wound, Ben was in the kitchen in front of the stove stirring something in a small saucepan. "Thank you for the bandages," he said hopefully, "I guess I will be on my way now. Sorry again for any inconvenience."

"N-nonsense, sit d-down and have s-something to drink. You look ch- chilled to the b-bone."

Not quite trusting the change in Ben's temperament, Jinn sat cautiously on one of stools. "You really don't have to, you know. I don't want to put you out any more than I have." "Y-you're hurt and j-judging by your v-vigil at my w-window you're also in s-some trouble. I-I could not in g-good conscience s-set you out," Ben said as he continued to stir the contents of the saucepan. "C-can I ask wh-what happened?"

Quentin chuckled mirthlessly. "Oh, it's naught for you to worry about. Just a wee scrape."

"D-does anyone else know wh-where I l-live?" Ben asked, still not looking up.

"No! No, I would not do that," Quentin exclaimed in a tone that told Ben that he was shocked by the very idea.

"G-good, then y-you can stay t-tonight. I h-have sat s-some linens on the ch-chesterfield for you, it folds out." He poured the contents of the saucepan into two mugs and brought them over to the counter.

"Thank you. I don't know how I will ever repay you."

Quentin looked dubiously at the mug in front when Ben supplied, "Oh, it's m-my own sleeping r-remedy. Warm m-milk with s-several shots of c-crème de cacao in it!" He smiled as he took a sip.

Quentin laughed and teased, "Do I get a biscuit with it?"

"O-only if y-you are a very g-good boy!" Ben shot back and left the room before Quentin could fully digest what he had said.

Quentin had to admit that the warm beverage with its comforting slightly chocolate smelling steam did make his eyes feel heavy. He finished the drink and searched for the switch to turn off the lights in the kitchen. He then made his way into the front room where he spotted the chesterfield. He was too tired to bother with folding it out into a bed, but took off his jacket, shirt, boots and socks. He lay down and pulled the plump eiderdown over himself. It seemed like two lifetimes ago that he slept in a place that did not smell of mould, stale cigarettes and who knew what else. He was sound asleep almost instantly.

Tavi decided he looked as likely a target as any to leech some body heat from and, when he had settled on his side in the deep set seat, did her best to crawl in beside him next to his legs. She eventually settled to spend the night teetering precariously on the edge.

Back in his bedroom, Ben's final thought was, "Quentin in my house for the night. I must be going mad!" But before he could settle on another good fret he too had dozed off.

Ben woke the next morning with the mid morning sun streaming cheerfully in through his bedroom window. He groaned and burrowed further under the blanket. His neck and shoulders were stiff and his head felt like someone had spent the better part of the night beating it with a heavy plank. His sleep had most certainly not been a restful one.

Ben was dozing off again when he started to think about the night before and suddenly he sat bolt upright, his heart racing. Had he imagined it or dreamt it, or did it all actually happen? Had Quentin shown up at his door in the middle of the night and was he now sleeping in his front room? "Oh, Ben," he thought.

There was only one way he was going to find out for sure, so he sighed and reached over to his nightstand for his glasses and put them on. He saw the mug sitting next to his bed and his stomach lurched a little. It was looking less like a dream. He put on a thick tartan housecoat and started to creep down the hallway. Nanuk, having noticed his master had vacated the bed, padded along happily next to him.

Ben slowly and quietly made his way into the front room and gave a small gasp. It had not been a dream at all. There on the chesterfield was a large lump under a thick white eiderdown that he was going to assume was Quentin. His back was to Ben and his long silver brown hair, which had come loose from its binding, was clearly visible from under the end of the covering. Tavi was at the other end of the chesterfield; her back curled tightly against the crooks of his knees and her head pillowed on the armrest. Nanuk rushed forward and bumped noses with his friend and the two of them started to wag at each other. Ben whispered to them, "C-come on you t-two. Wanna g-go outside?"

Tavi slowly got up from her spot on the couch and started to stretch while Nanuk tried to ever so helpfully nip her head. Ben made a quick ushering movement at the dogs; he just didn't want them to wake Quentin up quite yet. The two followed him to the back door wagging and nipping playfully at each other. When Ben had tied the dogs out in the yard, he went back to the front room to check on Quentin again.

He had rolled onto his back and had not woken yet, but he had brought his arms out from under the heavy blanket and had managed to push it to almost his navel in the effort. His chest seemed mostly smooth with only a light dusting of hair and his arms were of a hard corded muscle and unlike the bulky muscle of a body shaped in a gym, this was a body shaped through years of heavy work.

Most remarkable thing about the body though, was the tattoos. While Ben had seen tattoos of all kinds in magazines and books, he usually held the opinion that for the most part they looked crass but he was transfixed by the work done on this man. It was obvious that each tattoo had been carefully designed and meticulously crafted so that his body became a living painting of a life led. There were no gaudy, half naked women nor cartoon characters making obscene gestures. Large intricately patterned Celtic knot work in shades of green and blue, which gave Quentin an almost tribal look, adorned his chest and trailed down to his muscled abdomen, much like the ones Ben had pictured adorning the Irish warriors when they first met the Romans. On one shoulder there was a beautiful and vibrant picture of two dragons entwined. He wasn't positive from this distance, but they appeared to be Chinese in design, one in shades of red, green and gold and the other in white, blue and purple. Ben's eyes then travelled up to Quentin's face.

His sleep relaxed features made him look younger than Ben could remember seeing him, but creases still marked his eyes giving him a careworn look. In profile, his face had an almost regal set to it and Ben thought to himself, "He would have been no common warrior. He would have been an Irish King."

He felt a warm tingling sensation start in his stomach and travel downward. He flushed a deep crimson and looked away. He walked into the kitchen to start making breakfast. "After all, what would he think if he woke to find me standing there staring at him like that? Really, Ben, where has your mind gone recently?" He had not noticed that Quentin's eyes had already opened slightly and he was smiling rather smugly to himself.

Quentin could hear the sounds coming from the kitchen and could smell food starting to be prepared and entertained the idea of perhaps going to offer his help, but he was reluctant to move in case this was just one of his more vivid fantasies. It would dissolve and he would be back in the cold and dingy room at the motel. He could not remember the last time he had put Jinn away and let Quentin come out, the last time he was in a safe, warm place where he did not have to hide and could wake up to Ben looking at him with an expression that looked very akin to want! It made this the best fantasy yet, so he burrowed a little further under the fresh smelling blanket and tried his best to keep reality out for a while longer.

Quentin dozed again in his warm cocoon until the sound of barking dogs and the smell of coffee brewing roused him fully and he reluctantly got up to face the new day. He sat on the edge of the chesterfield, stretched and yawned widely. He winced slightly as the wound in his leg pulled under its bandage. He noticed the bloodstain on his jeans seemed bigger than the night before. "Oh, please, no," he thought as he swiftly pulled back the white eiderdown to look. But sure enough, there was a small but most definite dried bloodstain on the one side. "Oh, shit!"

Quentin quickly pulled the edge of the cover back down, just as a large brindled mass of fur landed on the seat next to him and a long wet tongue started to lick his face in abandon. "Tavi!" Ben whispered harshly as he entered the room, "Don't you go disturbing.... Ummm ... g-good morning.' Ben stopped short as he rounded the corner and saw Quentin sitting there half naked with the dog in question laying now sprawled out next to him, desperately trying to get a tummy rub.

"Good morning to you, Ben!" Quentin said as he reached over and gave Tavi a short and vigorous rub before patting her flank to usher her back off the seat.

"D-did you sleep w-well?" Ben asked hesitantly.

"Like the dead. This is a wonderful little place you have here. I am sorry, though, but I bled a bit on your lovely white blanket, I will pay you to replace it"

"O-oh d-don't bother yourself o-over that. I-it's not y-your fault. And th-thank you, it's not m-much, but it suits m-me."

"Don't sell it short too fast... If you had stayed at half the..." Quentin's voice trailed off at the end and he looked quickly away. "But again, sorry about the blanket."

Ben shifted uncomfortably in the awkward silence before he said, "I-I have m-made breakfast, i-if you'd l-like."

Quentin stood up, pulled his worn t-shirt on and followed Ben into the kitchen. It looked very different from the night before. Instead of the eerie glow from the fluorescents of the night before, it was filled with cheery morning sunshine, which came in through the large glass French doors in the dining room. Both rooms were painted a pale yellow and in the dining room was an old rosewood dinette set, but that's not what caught Quentin's attention that moment. On the dark table Ben had set out a meal, the likes if which he had not seen in a while.

On the table a large platter held large pink slices of fried ham and fat bratwurst sausage, scrambled eggs were piled liberally into a nearby bowl and a stack of large fluffy pancakes sat on a large brown plate. A large pat of butter was set neatly in a cut crystal dish and a condiment tray held several types of jellies and jams. Two place settings were neatly put in front of the end and side chairs and a large silver coloured tea service was set in the direct middle of the table. "You certainly DID set out breakfast!" he said in an awed voice.

"I-I didn't k-know what you'd like, s-so I k-kind of made everything, " Ben said quickly, blushing furiously.

Ben offered Quentin the seat at the end of the table and then took the seat to the side. It took all of his will power for Quentin not to simply shovel the food in, giving no regard to politesse at all. He heaped his plate full of everything Ben had put on the table, when Ben suddenly sprung up like a firework had gone off under his seat, "Oh, I nearly forgot!"

Ben hurried back into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a large bottle filled with a dark amber liquid. He hurried back to the table and put the bottle down. "C-can't have pancakes w-without maple s-syrup!" he smiled.

Quentin laughed right out loud, "Ben, trust me. I would never have noticed! This food alone beats anything Mace has ever produced..." He cut himself off there.

"I-is Mace a f-friend of yours?" Ben asked suddenly when he felt a slight twinge in his stomach.

Quentin paused thoughtfully and said, "You could say that. You could also say that he is someone I owe a debt to."

"Wh-what ever happened to y-you?" Ben asked, surprising himself at he boldness of the question.

"You mean last night?" Jinn said as he placed a bit of sausage in his mouth.

"Y-yes?" Ben said uncertainly. He had wanted to ask so much more at that moment. Such as, how did a man like Quentin, who seemed like such a gentle soul, go from being in university studying to be a teacher, to living in an abandoned motel with someone named Mace and showing up at the his door in the middle of the night with a wounded leg. But he held his tongue. He would take whatever Quentin was comfortable in offering at the moment.

"I had a run in with someone who was less than happy to see me and they happened to have a knife on them. The wound to my leg was the result of that meeting."

"You were st-stabbed?" Ben said as the colour drained from his face.

"You could say that. You could say I was barely nicked also," Quentin said as he quirked an eyebrow at Ben. When he saw Ben's reaction he quickly added, "As I said, it really is nothing to worry yourself about. It happens. You can't live like I do and not make a few enemies along the way."

"B-but then you c-came here? Wh-why here? Wh-what if y-you had b- been followed?" Ben stammered out as the shock of the situation was wearing off and a faint glimmer of the previous night's anger was starting to return.

"Because I thought I had a friend here, or at least someone who would not turn me out. Ben, you have to believe me when I tell you I took every precaution to make sure I was not followed and I would never do anything consciously to put you in danger. I would die first!"

Ben stared at Quentin for what seemed a long time trying to fully process what he had just said. Benn looked nervously away, took off his glasses and used the end of his housecoat sleeve to wipe them. He placed them back on his face and let his eyes fall on the clock on his kitchen wall. "Oh n-no! I-I'm running l-late!" Ben said as he quickly got up from the chair and started to clear the dishes from the table, nearly cracking them in his haste.

"Here, let me get that!" Quentin said getting gingerly up from the table and taking the dirty dishes from Ben's hands. "After the hospitality you have shown me and me ruining a perfectly good blanket, it really is the least I can do."

"N-nonsense, I-I have already told y-you not to w-worry about i-it." Ben stammered as he made a grab at the stack of dishes to pull them back toward him. In his panic succeeded in not only pulling back the dishes but Quentin along with them.

There they stood then rooted to the spot, their noses barely inches from each other. Quentin's deep blue eyes locked directly with Ben's mutable blue green ones and held them. He could feel Quentin's warm breath tickling as it brushed softly against his face. Ben realized he had stopped breathing and did two things at once. He sucked in a quick breath and let go of the dishes.

There was a loud crash and porcelain shards scattered across the floor. The noise sent the dogs scurrying as fast as they could manage toward the front room with their tails between their legs as if to say, "Wasn't me!"

Ben backed away from Quentin. "I-I have to g-go to w-work now," he repeated as he looked forlornly at the mess on the floor.

"I understand. Don't worry I can show myself out," Quentin said as he looked away from Ben.

"Y-you don't h-have to leave y-you know. I-I stand b-by what I-I said last n-night. I-if you n-need a place t-to stay until y-you are healed, y-you canstayhere," Ben said the last part in a rush before the nerve left him.

"Ben, I may have to take you up on that offer. But I have something I need to do today first. No hurry and go get ready for work. I will start to clean up in here."

Ben went to get ready for work, all the while thinking, "Now I know I have gone mad." When he stepped into the shower he started to feel some of the tension of the strangeness of the situation slip away and it was slowly being replaced with something else. A slow rising heat that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water he stood under.

If he had not dropped the dishes in the kitchen just now, he was sure he would have kissed Quentin. Then what would the reaction had been? He could no longer deny that he was attracted to this gentle enigma of a man. His life was dangerous and something about that thrilled Ben. Somehow he felt like he for once wanted to drink in some of that danger even vicariously. But to kiss another man when he was not sure of how it would be accepted was more danger than he wanted.

When he emerged from his bedroom in a neat shirt, sombre tie and dark suit pants he heard Quentin let out a low whistle and say, "Well, he does clean up well doesn't he, guys?"

Quentin was leaning against the kitchen counter feeding the salvageable bits of ham and sausage to the two dogs who were furiously going through their entire repertoire of tricks trying to out do each other to get the lion's share of the treats.

Ben laughed softly and removed his glasses to clean them on the end of his necktie. When he put them back on, he suddenly did a small turn and said, "I-I am glad you l-like it. I-it's what all th-the stylish b-bookworms are w-wearing this season!"

Quentin let out a short, loud laugh, "Ben, the good Lord gave you such a grand sense of humour. It is a pity you don't use it more."

After he had walked with Ben the short distance to the library and told him he would see him later that night, Quentin went to where he had hidden his bike he night before. As he straddled the bike and kicked it to life, once again Quentin was gone and Jinn sat in his place. He tied his hair back in the leather thong he used to keep it out of his eyes, pulled his helmet on over it and then started on the journey back to where the gang would surely be waiting for him.

When he got back to the motel he spotted Mace standing outside in the parking lot scanning the road. When Mace spotted him he raised his hand in greeting.

Jinn skidded to a stop in front of the dark skinned man and sprayed his shins with gravel. Mace, who's left eye was still swollen shut and looked like he had definitely seen better days, smiled at him and clapped him roughly on the back, "You slippery old fox. We were positive Keagan got you!"

"Will take more that a simple wee stab to the leg to slow me down, Mace, and you know it!" Jinn said with false confidence. He turned off the engine on his bike and flicked down the kickstand.

He got up from the bike, removed his helmet and started back toward the motel with Mace, "Is Yoda awake yet? I need to see him."

"Aye, you know he is. But he's not in the best of moods with you at the moment. When you split off from the rest of us like that, he didn't know what to make of it. He figured you had gone turncoat on us, especially when you insisted that the sidecar be attached to my bike this time. There is a doubtful honour I don't think I have fully repaid you for yet!"

"I had told the insane old git that now was not the time to try and get back to the city. Xan's death may be old news to the cops now, but to others, like Keagan, the wound is still fresh, " Jinn said as he stalked toward Yoda's room.

When he entered the cold and foul smelling room he felt a million miles away from Ben and his well-appointed little house, which is exactly where he needed to be. "Ah, found our Jinn, have you Mace. Good this is. Worried what your motives were, we were, Jinn!" Yoda croaked at him.

"My motives were to keep Keagan and his gang from finding out where we are staying right now, Yoda. He was after me and so I posed him a quandary. Go after me or keep up with the rest of you. Which, if I may add, would not have been hard on the open road. So I let him follow me down a rabbit hole, so to speak. It worked."

"Forget yourself you do, Jinn. My orders the gang follows, not their own whims."

"And it was one of your orders that nearly got us all killed!" Jinn said angrily. "When it comes to it I will do what I must to keep everyone safe. If that means breaking your orders and following my instinct, so be it!"

"Defy me, you will not, Jinn! I, alone, will say where the gang will go." Yoda countered.

"Listen to me, Yoda. It is not safe to go back. Keagan is still out for blood over his brother's death and who can blame him. I told Mace at the time that it was pointless and cruel to kill Xan like that, but I guess I failed to mention the other repercussions. It would be suicide to attempt to go back again."

Mace's voice suddenly broke in, "With all due respect, Yoda, I must agree with Jinn. We were lucky this time. We may not be next time."

The argument went on until Jinn had finally had enough and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. A moment later Mace followed him out to the parking lot and caught him just as he was replacing his helmet. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I have a place to stay for the next couple of days. I will be there. Trust me on this, I'll be back when Yoda is ready to listen to reason."

"I still don't think it's the best idea for you to go now, Jinn. Yoda is already suspicious. But if you feel the need to," Mace said without looking at him.

"I need to be away for a while now, Mace. If you want to follow that old fool to certain death, that's your choice, not mine!" Jinn snapped as he started the engine on his bike and it roared to life.

"You have no choice in this, Jinn! You forget that!" Mace shouted at him above the deafening sound of the bike engine. "You know one day your defiance will buy you the same fate as Xan!"

"Then I'll see you in Hell!" Jinn shouted back as the wheeled his bike around and sped out of the parking lot.

He knew his decision had been rash and there would be hell to pay when he went back. If he went back. He was no longer sure that even if the city were safe for them now he would go back. Something inside had changed last night when Ben had taken him in when he could have turned him away. He would have been well within his rights to do so. He didn't think he could leave Ben now, even if he wanted to.

He rode around most of the day, checking in his mirror every once in a while to make sure he wasn't being followed. It was well into the evening before he decided it was safe to head back to Ben's house and his heart started to pound painfully in his chest as he caught sight of the small house with it's cheery yellow lights glowing through the front window.

Ben sat on one of the large padded chairs in his front room, slumped to one side and holding a book in his hand. Earlier, he had made great pretence of reading it and even flipped a few pages back and forth. He had looked at his watch, got up out of the chair and walked over to the window.

He drew back the sheers slightly and looked out into the deserted street for any sign of movement. He looked down at his watch and then back out into the street. "Maybe he's not coming back," Ben had thought sullenly.

"Well, I wouldn't blame him. Every time he's around you manage to make a right idiot of yourself. Losing control of limbs, falling off or over things. Breaking things. You really do know how to put on a real spectacle. Then to almost kiss him.... Idiot!" Ben looked down to see that Tavi had joined him in his vigil. He stroked her ear and said, "Well, girl, we should probably not be standing in the window anyway. What would happen if he did come back and there we are looking out expectantly like parents waiting for an errant teenager!"

Ben went and sat down on the chair again and opened the book and started to flip pages then fell asleep.

In an odd way Ben knew he was dreaming, but it felt strangely real. It seemed as if he were being held immobile, his arms held high above his head. A sharp pain in his head was making it difficult for him to see and his head was slumped forward onto his chest. He noted absently that his shirtfront was covered in blood. He little knew how he got there and was almost completely unaware of his surroundings. A loud roar of several voices caused him to jerk his head up and try his best to focus.

There seemed to be many people in the room. But they were formless and blurred and seemed to hold no substance. This created a relief against which the grim spectacle unfolded before him. Stepping out into an eerie light he saw Quentin. His bare chest was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he seemed to be slowly circling in a predatory manner.

His patrician brow was furrowed in pain and concentration and Ben noticed a definite limp in his gait. As he circled further Ben got a view of his broad, muscled back. There he saw what looked to be a living painting on flesh. There was a man lying prone with a tawny haired angel bent over him. Beneath it was written "Good night sweet prince, may flights of angels wing you to your rest".

He saw Quentin's head snap back with what seemed to be an unseen blow and another roar erupted from the shadows about him. Suddenly Ben's arms and legs seemed to go free and he fell forward onto a hard, dirty floor. He looked up just in time to see a cold glint of metal and hear a cackling laugh start. Then the air was shattered by a loud clap, which sounded like thunder in his ears.

He saw Quentin fall and stood up and started to rush to him. Quentin was lying face down on the floor and Ben knelt down next to him. He turned Quentin over and pulled the large man into his arms.

Quentin's breathing was coming in short and rattling gasps. Ben could see the rivulets of crimson running from his mouth, but there seemed to be no mark on him anywhere else. Quentin seemed to be trying to talk to him and he leaned in closer to try and hear him. "I am sorry, Ben, but I seem to have bled a bit on your lovely white blanket. I will pay for..."

"Don't be silly," Ben went to say but the voice would not come. He then looked around them and realised they seemed to be in the middle of a blanket of almost blinding white. A narrow stream of blood was running down from Jinn's back somewhere and staining the pristine white with an ugly red gash.

"I really do love you..." Quentin said before a seizure took him and he convulsed in Ben's arms.

"Somebody help me!" he yelled mutely, tears blurring his vision and making slick wet streams down his cheeks. "Please, somebody... help me..." Another loud clap rent the air and Ben wrenched awake with a start.

Ben scrambled for a second in his chair and readjusted his glasses, which were now askew on his face, and felt the wetness on his cheeks. He scrubbed at it with the back of his sleeves and laughed slightly at himself. "It was only a dream," he told himself. Then he heard a loud and frantic rapping at the back door.

Tavi and Nanuk were already at the door, wagging their tails and whining to get out when Ben took a couple of deep calming breaths. He was not going to embarrass himself this time! "Well here we go," he thought as he smoothed down the front of his slightly rumpled shirt, took off his glasses to clean them and went to open the door.

When he got there, he swung it open just as Quentin was about to knock again, thus causing the taller man to swing slightly, miss and stumble forward. "Well, Mum, aren't you now going to ask me where I have been all this time?" Quentin said gruffly, his eyes belying his underlying merriment.

Ben folded his arms and tried to look stern, but failed miserably when a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, "W-Well, now that you mention it, I was b-beginning to wonder if y-you got lost!"

"Judging by the look of ya, you were sound asleep not a moment ago!"

Ben opened his mouth to protest, and then said, "I-I was only resting m-my eyeballs."

Quentin began to chuckle and walked into the kitchen, removing his helmet and gloves and placing them on the counter.

"Wh-why did you come t-to the back d-door?"

"I needed a place to put my bike so it would not be noticed."

"Oh," Ben said as he peered out into the darkness, barely making out the shadow of a large motorbike in his back yard. "A-are you hungry?"

"No," laughed Quentin, "Not really. But what I could use is some tarpaulin."

"Some?"

"Tarpaulin. You know a sort of water proof sheet to cover the bike with in case it snows."

"Oh, well I d-don't have one o-of those. But I have an old vinyl b- banquet table cover, will that do?" Ben asked and then flushed slightly.

"Yes," laughed Quentin, "I am sure it will do."

Ben went to get his mother's old table cover out of the chest where he'd been storing it. He lifted the heavy lid and his nostrils were assaulted with the smell of mothballs. He sat back for a moment, waiting for the air to clear, and then started to rummage through the contents of the chest. He finally found what he was looking for. It was old, and in a gaudy flower-pattern with a fuzzy soft non-slip side. Ben could not remember the last time he had taken it out or what his motivation had been for keeping it all this time, but for once he was glad he did.

As he pulled the it out of the chest, a photograph fell out of it and landed face up on the floor. Ben felt his heart constrict.

In the photo, a teenage Ben was making a face at the camera and pressed to his one cheek was a smiling face of a young man, not much older than Ben was now, but it was a face Ben had been trying to forget since. At one point, Angus had been his favourite uncle. Only older than Ben by about 10 years, he had been the one Ben could be himself around. He was irreverent, funny and sarcastic and the only one who would listen to the youth.

Ben picked up the photograph and ran a finger across the shining surface. He shook himself out of the reverie and dropped the photo back into the chest and closed the lid once again on it. "It would do no good now to start thinking back on it," he told himself as he picked up the table cover and headed back up the hall.

Quentin was leaned over and scratching both Tavi and Nanuk behind the ears vigorously. He looked up and smiled at Ben, as the young man entered the room. " Ah, I see you have found it!"

"Y-yes..." Ben said not quite meeting Quentin's eyes.

"Ben? What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh, the t-trunk this was in was full of m-mothballs. I don't think th-they quite agreed w-with me." Ben offered Quentin a weak smile. Quentin looked at him as if he didn't quite buy into the excuse but was not going to push for the real answer.

Ben put on his coat and followed Quentin into the darkened back yard. Tavi and Nanuk raced out the door and into the chilly night air. The moon, reflected from the snow, cast everything in a silvery light. The two dogs nipped at each other and barked looking back at the two men hopefully. "No, n-not tonight, guys! " Ben called over the raucous din.

"Th-they think we're going f-for a walk." He said in answer to Quentin's questioning look.

Quentin retrieved the cover from Ben and started to shake it out. When he saw the large red, blue and green flowers; he could not quite contain a laugh. "Oh, my..." But Ben did not really react. He had turned and was looking at the motorbike.

"Nice, isn't it?" Quentin said as he came up behind Ben. Ben nodded slightly. "It's a vintage 1969 Harley Roadster. It cost a bit more, but I think it was well worth it. Has an extended seat, perhaps you'd like to come for a ride at some point?"

Unbidden, the image of being curled tightly against Quentin's back, his arms clinging around the trim waist came to Ben's mind. Just as he started to feel the now-familiar heat rising in his body, Ben ruthlessly shoved the image from his mind and took one end of the cover from Quentin and started to fold it over the top of the bike.

"C-can I ask wh-where you had to g-go today?" Ben muttered, half to himself.

"I just had some business to clear up. It's really nothing for you to worry about," Quentin answered matter-of-factly.

"I just w-wondered ..."

"Ben, if you are concerned that I am putting you in danger, don't be. I have managed to get myself in a spot of trouble, that much is true. But if I figured that I was in anyway bringing harm to you, I would leave now and never come back."

Ben nodded grimly and finished tucking his end of the vinyl cloth over the bike and stood back. He could hear the dogs barking some distance back in the yard, at least they sounded carefree for the moment.

Quentin had noticed this shift in mood from his young companion. He quickly finished securing the cloth to the bike and then stood next to Ben and said, "Well, she's been kept many places and under many things. But I don't reckon I can remember her looking quite so festive before!" Ben chuckled slightly at the comment, but his eyes did not shift from the bike in front of him.

Quentin felt Ben starting to recoil back in on himself and it had taken him this long to get the younger man to open up, even slightly. He found he could not let that happen again. He could not remember meeting anyone who was so young and so sombre. Quentin smiled to himself as he got a wicked idea, which would either work in breaking Ben out of the melancholy he was in or would drive him even further in his shell.

"You know. When I was a young man in Ireland, I would always hear tell of a mystical being called a Banshee," he said in a conversational voice as he walked around back of Ben. The younger man was slightly confused as to where this particular story was going, but let Quentin continue.

"Have you heard of a Banshee before?" Ben shook his head slightly. Slowly Quentin crouched down and gathered a handful of snow and continued in the same conversational voice. "Well they say the Banshee would come out on nights very much like this and lie in wait for unsuspecting mortals to let their guard down, the you know what? She would slowly sneak up behind them..." As good as his word and silently as a shadow the large man came right up behind Ben and paused. "And then they would feel her icy hand run down their spine!" He said as he yanked back the collar of Ben's shirt and deposited the icy handful down the back of it.

Ben let out a loud howl as the wet and frigid mass slid down his spine and he danced around frantically trying to get it out of the back of his shirt. "Ah yes!" Quentin laughed, "I can even hear her wail now!"

Ben wheeled around and faced his unapologetic friend. His face was flushed red and his mouth gaped open like he had been stung. He had not been sure whether to be furious at the other man or not until he crouched down to retrieve his own handful of snow and start advancing on Quentin. The dogs, hearing Ben's yell came bounding back across the yard to find out what was going on.

"Now, Ben. I don't think you want to be starting something right now that I will win!" Quentin said as he put out a placating hand and slowly backed away. Ben was too busy fashioning a snowball to be paying much attention to what the other man was saying. Quick as a flash he pulled his arm back and released the frozen projectile. Quentin ducked and the ball missed him and landed in the snowdrift behind him. Tavi and Nanuk launched themselves into the drift trying to retrieve the ball where it had landed and were soon racing and leaping around the duo as more snowballs were made and thrown.

Quentin ducked low and launched himself at Ben, toppling him backward into the soft snow and busily pinned his arms to his side. Ben struggled fruitlessly against the grip of the larger man. "You, my young friend, need to learn never to enter a battle you cannot win as much as you need to learn how to relax!" Quentin laughed. His face only inches from his young captives'.

"Okay," Ben said going lax under Quentin's weight. Both of them were out of breath and laughing. Ben's clear laugh rang through the night air and Quentin found himself looking down at him. His eyes caught Ben's and held them; he then did what he had been trying to get the courage to do since he met the young man. He leaned in and kissed him lightly on the mouth.

He pulled back to observe the younger man trapped beneath him. Ben's mouth had slightly opened and he gave no protest. Quentin leaned in again and deepened the kiss this time. He ran his tongue along Ben's lower lip and then carefully slid it into his sweet, warm mouth. Ben started to respond to the kiss, his own tongue twining slightly with the larger man's. Quentin released Ben's arms and then felt them move up behind his neck.

He pulled back again and looked into Ben's face one more time. His pupils were starting to dilate and his lips were slightly swollen from the kisses. Ben leaned up and captured Quentin's mouth and revelled in the feeling of the beard slightly scratching at his lower lip and jaw. The blood, which had been colouring his face, was starting to travel to other areas of his body and he could hear himself making small and needy whimpers and the older man very delicately took possession of his mouth.

Then, like a shock of cold water being thrown on him, Ben remembered where he was and whom he was with. He pulled back from Quentin suddenly and breathed, "I-I should not be d-doing this. I am sorry. It's n-not right!"

He stood up and headed back into the house with Quentin hot on his heels.