Fish & Chips

again—a few weeks ago. Zane sighed silently. For better or for worse.



Being “married” again was making him… sappy.



For a couple of months now, he"d been content to have Ty near, but Zane was waiting for Ty to get antsy. Ty wasn"t the type of guy you were supposed to get attached to, because Ty couldn"t, or wouldn"t, settle down. In fact, Zane was in awe of the fact that their fooling around was still holding Ty"s interest at all.



Ty must have sensed his eyes on him, and he turned to look over at Zane as his smile faded. “What?” he asked with a flop of his hand.



“We"re not ten minutes into this, and you"ve already got that look like you left the stove on.”



Zane smiled slightly and shook his head, lifting one hand to absently rub at the new earring. “Just wondering what we"re in for.”



Ty met his eyes for a long moment, his expression telegraphing his desire to perhaps say something with sincerity. The look faded though, and Ty smiled slowly. “We"ll be in for the night,” he quipped suggestively.



Zane wondered what he"d been about to say, but what had come out was interesting enough. “There is room service,” Zane drawled. It was an all-inclusive high-dollar cruise ship program, so they could have literally anything they wanted, as long as it was available. They"d taken the five-cent tour upon their arrival and had a quick-service lunch, but they"d wanted to get to their suite quickly to head off anyone who might try to get there first and bug the place. It was just past one, and their first scheduled event wasn"t for twenty-four hours.



“At least with room service I don"t have to eat with a British accent,” Ty said, tongue-in-cheek as he tried not to smile. He leaned against the doorframe as the wind brushed at his thin cotton shirt.



Zane watched goose bumps rise on Ty"s skin and took the two small steps to stand right before him, their chests practically brushing as Zane ran his hands up Ty"s arms. “Aren"t you cold out here in the wind?”



“That"s the worst come-on line I"ve ever heard, Zane,” Ty admonished blandly. He hooked a finger into one of Zane"s belt loops.



“It"s a good thing you"re pretty or you"d never get laid.”



“Pretty?” Zane echoed in surprise. Ty merely laughed, the wide smile highlighting the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, lines Zane saw all too rarely. He shook his head and said, “I have never in my life been called „pretty". And come to think of it, I don"t think I"ve ever had to use a come-on line, either.”



“The latter is because you"re pretty,” Ty claimed with a huff of air that brushed Zane"s cheek. Zane had to chuckle as he bowed his head. It was just too silly to think of himself that way, with a twice-broken nose healed a little crooked, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and a hell of a lot of scars. Ty turned his head and pressed a kiss to Zane"s cheek, and then he put both hands on Zane"s chest and pushed him away. “Let"s get those bags straightened out. I want to see how many weapons they managed to slip in with us.”



Zane reluctantly let go and followed him over to the ridiculous round bed. Choosing one of the suitcases, he picked up a heavy, zipped dopp kit. “I"m almost afraid to look,” Zane murmured before opening it. It was an old-fashioned shaving kit with a marble bowl, horsehair brush, and two straight-edge razors. Among other toiletries, there were also two long whetstones with elastic around them, and when Zane turned them over, he found one of his knives strapped to each heavy stone. “Resourceful,” he said with a raised brow. “Although I"m not sure how I"ll wear them with walking shorts and a polo.”



Ty glanced over to see what Zane was doing and nodded when he looked at the shaving kit. “Hopefully they got more than just your pig stickers in,” he muttered as he poked his finger through one of the neatly packed suitcases. “What the hell are walking shorts? You"re such a geek, man. I guess we can use the straight-edge razors if we want to make a horror show of it.”



He pulled out a plain leather toiletry bag and unzipped it, peering in for a second before merely letting it go.



It dropped to the mattress with a clatter of its contents as Ty stood frozen, his head turned away, eyes closed, his hands still out in front of him like he might be traumatized.



Zane glanced up, and when he saw the mess, he choked on a laugh. “Ah….” He cleared his throat as he looked at the variety of sex toys spilled across the duvet: three different dildos, a set of metal cock rings, a scattering of clamps, a bottle of toy cleaner, a few silk scarves, and a couple of long boxes with clasps. He picked one of the boxes up and opened it. Inside was an implement even Zane wasn"t familiar with displayed on a slide of velvet. When he pulled up the small board, Zane found pieces of a disassembled gun inside.



“Like I said,” Zane continued, though now he was trying not to laugh, “resourceful. I wonder who laughed their asses off while packing this up.”



“That"s my gun,” Ty said in an offended voice. “They hid my gun in the sex toys? That"s not right, man.” He shook his head and continued muttering to himself as he began pulling out pieces of clothing and toiletries, carefully examining them for anything else that might have been hidden for them.



“Good hiding place, if you ask me,” Zane said as he picked up a jeweled dog collar and glanced toward Ty"s neck, visually estimating the possibility of a fit and deciding it just wouldn"t look right. “What security guy is going to take apart a vibrator to check for a slide barrel?”



Ty didn"t respond, merely looking askance at the collar and the appraising look in Zane"s eyes. He snorted at him and then pulled another small bag toward him, Del"s designer satchel, unzipping it with a hint of dread. He looked in warily, like more rubber dongs might jump out at him, but then dumped the contents onto the bed. There was an iPod, a set of headphones, a few puzzle books, two ear wigs, and three wireless listening devices. Ty looked up at Zane and shrugged.



“My question would be „are they theirs or ours?",” Zane said as he opened a small drawstring bag and looked down into it. After a moment, he simply pulled the strings to close it and dropped it on the bed. The fabric didn"t muffle the soft clinking noise.



“What"s that?” Ty asked as he nodded at the bag.



Zane picked the bag back up and pulled out a set of heavy-duty handcuffs. “These may be useful if I can"t get you to sit still,” he said, dangling them on one finger.



Ty shook his head and pointed one long finger at Zane warningly.



“You try it and I"ll freak out,” he said seriously.



“Freak out?” Zane asked, brow furrowing. “Why?” He didn"t think he"d ever seen Ty tied up, except for when Zane had found him in that dark catacomb in New York City, almost suffocated…. “Oh.



Okay.” He dropped the cuffs back into the bag and tossed it aside.



Ty pressed his lips tightly together and looked down at the bag again. “Maybe we can use them if we make an arrest,” he finally decided wryly before pulling more clothing out of the suitcase. There was a small stack of briefs and soft T-shirts, and he set them aside, in front of Zane. They"d been allowed to bring their own underwear, at least.



“I"ve not really thought about buying stuff like this,” Zane said slowly, dropping another small box labeled Vacheron Constantin after opening it and finding a very expensive watch. Other boxes held cuff links, old-fashioned tie clips, and various other high-dollar accouterments.



“On our salary, you can"t afford to look at stuff like this.” Ty licked his lips and looked over at Zane with a frown. “These guys are way out of my league,” he declared as he looked back down at everything they"d spread across the bed.



Zane turned and sat down on the edge of the thick mattress so he could look at Ty. Money wasn"t something they"d ever talked about, and considering how Ty was reacting to their pricey surroundings, Zane wasn"t sure if now was a good time to broach the subject, even in jest.



“It"s just for show. Having expensive things doesn"t determine who you are.”



Ty shrugged. “Not unless you"re an ass,” he answered carelessly.



He looked around the luxuriously appointed cabin. “I"ve just never known anyone who lived like this. Not sure if I can pull it off.”



Zane looked around and shrugged. He"d had pricey clothes with designer labels once upon a time, and he"d lived in ritzy places before.



He preferred his ratty sweats and apartment, or better, Ty"s row house.



“It"s no big deal. Just window dressing. Nobody needs to live like this.



They just want to be pampered. Money makes it easy to be lazy.” Ty looked at him with a tiny frown, and Zane sighed inwardly and shrugged. “Personal experience,” he murmured, leaning back on one elbow.



“With being lazy?” Ty asked with a slight smile.



Zane shook his head slowly. “You know me better than that.”



Ty smiled wider, but then it faded back into a confused frown. He clearly wanted to inquire further, but they were still at a stage where asking about each other"s pasts was an uncomfortable venture. Zane watched the emotions cross Ty"s face and decided an answer was in order. “My family has money,” he admitted. “Ranching operations for several generations now.”



Ty"s only reaction was to arch an eyebrow. Zane knew his normally expressive partner well enough to know that an expression of so little emotion was hiding a more natural response. Ty"s poker face was impressive unless you knew him well. “How much?” Ty finally asked, exposing his curiosity.



“In my opinion, they"ve got more money than sense,” Zane said with a small shrug. “I don"t really know.”



“That"s probably a lot then,” Ty concluded, a hint of ill-concealed discomfort in his voice.



“Probably,” Zane allowed. “I"m not exactly much a part of the family anymore.” The old pain of it twinged a little, and he pushed himself to sit up again. “So it"s not something I deal with.”



Ty turned his head to watch Zane, but he didn"t take a step back or move away to give him space. It was an oddly intimate inaction.



“So… what, you got cut off?”



Zane shook his head. “We just don"t get along.” He didn"t really want to get into a rehash of Dallas—too much potential for messy emotions he tried to keep buried with the rest of his past, not to mention the dreaded wailing violin section. He forced a smile and looked up at Ty. “I like your family a lot better.”



“They"re that bad?” Ty asked disbelievingly.



Zane had to laugh. “There"s no way to compare, really. You"ve got your family baggage, right? Well, I"ve got mine. And you know me and baggage,” he tried to joke, but it came out flat to his ear.



Ty"s eyes strayed to the array of bags and belongings on the bed; then he looked back at Zane and nodded somberly. “If you ever want to talk about it,” he offered slowly, a smile forming as he finished,



“you"ve got Deacon"s number, right?”



Warmth stole through Zane"s chest, and it was easy to return the smile. Comments like that did a lot to remind Zane that Ty really did care about him. Even if Ty was shoving him off on his psychiatrist brother. “Yeah.” Then he looked down at the mess littering the bed.



“So. Don"t worry about this shit. It doesn"t mean anything. And you don"t need to act any differently to deal with it.”



“Yeah, yeah,” Ty muttered as he turned away and ran a hand through his bleached-blond hair. He moved away from Zane and the bed and began walking toward the balcony again. He stared out the open door for a long moment, apparently trying to settle himself and find the right mentality to be Del Porter instead of Ty Grady.



As Zane watched him, he saw the set of Ty"s shoulders change, saw the tension melt off him, saw his gait alter as he paced toward the doors, and by the time his partner got to the balcony and turned around, Ty seemed comfortable in his surroundings and in his new skin. It was a subtle change, just like the one in Zane"s bed last night. Ty seemed to be able to slide into a new persona quickly; he just didn"t seem to be able to maintain it for very long.



He gave Zane a crooked smile. “I still need some practice,” he said, assuming Del Porter"s lyrical accent. It changed the tone of his voice, the pitch. Even the hint of mountain gravel and growling quality Zane had grown fond of was gone, replaced by the smooth British tones.



The ability again impressed Zane, though he immediately missed Ty"s natural voice. But if Ty wanted to play the game here in the cabin from time to time to help them stay in character, he"d go along with it.



It couldn"t hurt. The best way to stay safely undercover was to live it, but he seriously doubted they needed to go that far on this case, and Zane would much rather be with Ty than Del.



“And just what do you suggest?” he asked in the haughty tone he used for Corbin.



Ty moved toward him, smiling as he walked up to stand in front of him and put one finger on Zane"s shoulder. He let it slide up to Zane"s neck teasingly and gave him a chaste kiss. Then he said in his normal voice, “I want a nap. And then food.”



“Easy enough. Shove this crap off the bed, and we have nap time.



Then there are six full-service restaurants on board, two on the luxury level,” Zane pointed out as he settled his hands on Ty"s hips. “That doesn"t count room service and all the other buffet and counter-service places.”