Encounters by InSilva
Disclaimer: Did not create the boys
Summary: AU "Body and Soul"/"Mind and Vision" verse. Danny and Rusty attend a party full of rich people and find blasts from the past. Rated for adult themes and profanity. Oneshot.
A/N: this will make more sense (I hope!) if you are aware of the "Body and Soul"/"Mind and Vision" backgrounds of both Rusty and Danny.
The party was in full swing by the time they pulled up in the car. Music and laughter and lights and noise and it all had a high-class ring to it. A black tie, Cristal champagne and caviar kind of ring to it. A valet parker swept out of nowhere and took the keys from Rusty's fingers with a bow of the head, replacing them with a ticket in a lightning-fast movement worthy of a Vegas magician.
Danny had been silent since they'd pulled into the long driveway and now, as they stood shoulder to shoulder contemplating the...well, mansion was probably the right word...as they stood there, he didn't seem any more talkative. Rusty could guess why. This was all a bit too close to home as far as Danny was concerned in more ways than one. He'd grown up in a place not too dissimilar where money was never an issue and simultaneously was the only issue.
"Hey," Rusty said softly.
Danny turned his head with a smile of raw affection that faded almost at once into Dannycomposure. Danny had it all locked down and away and was back to being Danny. Rusty nodded reassuringly.
"Let's do it," Danny said tersely.
The point of gatecrashing the party was to get close to one of the guests, Sebastian Caine, owner of a Mauritius "Post Office" stamp still stuck to the envelope sent by the Governor's wife back in 1847.
"What is it with the rich and stamps?" Danny asked rhetorically as they walked up the steps.
"They're lighter than ingots," Rusty suggested.
"True. Fitting an ingot into your wallet is just gonna ruin the line of your suit."
"Mind you, you'd notice if someone lifted your wallet."
"And you'd probably be able to catch them."
The ballroom was heaving. Danny took two glasses of champagne off a tray and handed Rusty one.
"Let's work each side of the room," Danny suggested. "Meet up at the French doors."
Rusty took in the open patio doors at twelve o'clock. "'kay."
As Danny turned left, Rusty turned right, sipping the champagne and scanning the crowd for Sebastian. Another waiter walked past with hors d'oeuvres and Rusty picked up something dubiously pink in pastry. It seemed unlikely it was bubblegum. He hoped it was salmon...it was salmon. Relief. He moved further round the room and dispassionately observed the very rich at play. Even the beautiful people seemed to have a hard edge to them. He thought about Danny's family. About cold and sterile. About Danny growing up in barren soil and being Danny in spite of the hostile environment. Rusty blinked back the unhelpful emotion. Danny deserved so much better and his father and mother and brothers - half-brothers - had been nowhere close. If it hadn't been for Luis and Maria... His fingers tightened on the champagne flute and a wave of nausea suddenly washed over him. The room was oppressive, full of rich scents and body heat and he was waltzing through bodies and none of them were Sebastian.
Rusty glanced upwards at the mezzanine floor. That would be a good vantage point. It overlooked the party and there were a few people up there but not too many and there looked like there was a balcony off. He could multitask: spot Sebastian and get some fresh air. He climbed the stairs.
There was no sign of Sebastian. Danny smiled at other guests as he moved through the throng, a past master at making sufficient eye contact but not enough to encourage conversation. He worked his way methodically through the penguin suits and ballgowns, frowning on the inside. Their information came from a solid source. Sebastian had to be here.
Outside on the deserted balcony, the warm breeze cleared Rusty's head. Stupid, he told himself. What was wrong with him? Wasn't like he hadn't been to functions before. Wasn't even the first time he'd worn black tie. Wasn't even the first time he'd mixed with... Realisation hit him. He'd been so focused on what Danny was feeling walking into this situation, he hadn't even thought about himself. Something in his subconscious was busy reminding him though. Reminding him that the super rich had other games to play. Not just Alexander and his family but even further back.
Rusty licked his lips and drained the rest of the champagne. He could deal with this. Now that he understood the unease and the turmoil, he could handle it. He turned round, ready to go and locate Sebastian because that was the prime focus of the evening.
He met two men at the balcony door, deep in conversation and smiled at them and apologised and did a double take. The blond-haired man on the right did exactly the same thing.
"Well..." A note of surprised appreciation. "Fancy meeting you here."
"Who is it, Morrie?"
"It's an unexpected pleasure," Morrie said, looking at Rusty. "That's what it is."
Morrie. He hadn't known the name. He never knew names. He doubted even MacAvoy knew names. Names didn't matter as long as you could find someone. Morrie. Morrie had been a visit to the Presidential Suite and luxury and champagne and it was exactly the same as being fucked in MacAvoy's flat. Morrie. It had been ten years. He stood a good chance of bluffing his way out of here.
"I think you've mistaken me for someone," Rusty smiled full of bonhomie and personality, pushing back against the persona of God-given right that he was confronted with. Let Morrie think he was wrong.
Trouble with that was, Morrie was shaking his head and his eyes were smiling.
"I never forget a mouth as talented as yours."
Danny moved through the party guests and kept the plastic smile on his face as he did so whilst all the time inside there was tumult. They'd never had anything close to this size of gathering at his own home when he was growing up but they could have done. As he walked, he could see types that he recognised. Society girls and varsity boys and obscenely overweight dowagers and the overlords, the men whose eyes darted round the room. Danny had lived among wealth and he knew its smell and he knew its touch. He could hear it crackle in people's voices. Money could be cold and soulless: it took a determined man not to let its absolute power corrupt him.
There was an overspill room beyond the ballroom, off to the left and drawing people into it. Danny threw a quick glance at the French doors - no Rusty - then followed his instincts and drifted casually with the crowd. At once, he smiled to himself. There stood Sebastian, whisky glass in one hand, cigar in hand, gesturing dangerously and holding forth on some topic that Danny was about to become immediately interested in and supportive of Sebastian's viewpoint.
"I never forget a mouth as talented as yours."
The dark-haired man next to Morrie suddenly grinned. "Good, is he?"
"Oh, yeah..." Long and drawn out and suddenly the sounds and smells of ten years ago pulsed through Rusty. He forced himself to try again to persuade Morrie he was wrong.
"Seriously, guys, I don't know who you think I am but-"
"Well, I'm fairly sure you're not on the official guest list," Morrie told him pleasantly. "You here with someone?"
"Maybe he brought a friend."
"Did you?" Morrie grinned.
Danny.
"Did you?" Morrie asked again. "Another little whore?"
"One each." A knowing chuckle.
Danny. Rusty's fingers tightened on the champagne glass. There were only two of them. He could…
"Hey, guys…who's this?" A new voice. A new face. Younger than the other two. And now there were three.
"Little trick turner touting for business," Morrie elaborated. "Gives head like you wouldn't believe. Makes me excited just thinking about it."
His hand shot out and grabbed Rusty's hand, pressing it to his groin and Rusty snatched it away, the feel of hot and hard lingering. He stared at Morrie, at lips parted and a gleam in his eye and Morrie's friend was interested and they wanted something. They weren't going to let him off this balcony without giving something up.
"Be a good boy, Solly, and go back outside and stand on the door," Morrie instructed and reluctantly, Solly did so and the exit was blocked.
The exit was blocked.
He could jump. It wasn't that high. Maybe fifteen feet? He could jump and-
The two men moved closer. Well into his personal space and they weren't going to let him vault any balcony wall.
"So we gonna wait for your friend to show?" The dark-haired man grasped his chin, turning it from side to side. "Is he better looking than you?"
Rusty jerked his head away, his mind racing. Danny. If he was gone too long, Danny would come looking and that really wasn't going to end well.
…fighting and punching and this wasn't their turf and Morrie and his friends had reinforcements all around them they could call on…
"Another little whore?" Morrie asked and the other man was gripping Danny's chin and…
No.
Never.
"What about it?" Impatient. "We waiting?"
"No need," Rusty said and his voice was calm and clear and professional. "I can handle both of you."
"Well, that's more like it," Morrie grinned.
"I'm here with someone, you understand. An exclusive arrangement. But I could make some time for you both tomorrow." Seductive and full of honey. "I have an opening."
"Oh, and I'd like to fill it," Morrie smiled. "How much?"
"$1,500," Rusty smiled back.
The other man gave a loud snort. "Count me out. $1,500 is too rich for me."
"You were cheaper ten years ago," Morrie told him mildly.
"That was ten years ago," Rusty pointed out with equal equanimity.
Morrie stood and looked him over and maybe, just maybe, this was going to work.
"Alright." Morrie reached into his pocket and pulled out a card case. "These are my details. Be at the Remington Hotel, Sundale Suite at 8pm. We can get reacquainted."
Rusty pocketed the card smoothly with a nod. "That would be wonderful."
He wouldn't be anywhere near the Remington but Morrie didn't know that. Morrie was nodding. Deal done. But Morrie wasn't moving.
"That will be wonderful," Morrie agreed. "And that will be tomorrow night. But this is now." He turned to the man next to him. "How much cash have you got on you?"
"Not $1,500, that's for sure," came the immediate reply. "Maybe...$200?"
"Yeah. Reckon I've got $300. That should be enough to show me and my friend that you haven't lost your touch, right? If you know what I mean."
The leer and the anticipation was all over Morrie's face. Rusty glanced at his friend who was looking curious and who wasn't objecting in the slightest to the idea.
"Come on." Morrie pulled a sheaf of bills from his wallet and clicked his fingers. A wad of notes was proffered and Morrie waved the cash in front of Rusty, pulling the glass from his hand and dropping it to the ground. "Come on. You're a class act but you can't tell me that a money hungry little whore like you doesn't want to earn a little extra. Besides. I told you. I'm all excited."
Rusty's eyes dropped to the cash. And another part of him was seeing Danny looking for him and not finding him. Searching the party for him. Climbing the stairs towards the mezzanine floor.
He heard himself say "Alright" and his fingers closed round the money. Then time blurred.
Sebastian was easily charmed, no doubt due to the amount of alcohol he'd consumed: Danny doubted that he'd gone anywhere near the champagne, just cut to the chase with the Scotch. He'd invited Danny over for a spot of lunch and Danny had accepted. Well, strictly speaking Preston Ingleby had. Danny made his farewells and his way out of the room and towards the rendezvous point.
Huh. Still no Rusty. Danny turned and scrutinised the sea of black dinner jackets, looking for blond hair. No...no... He hesitated and then looked at the open French doors. God knows he was struggling with this press of people. Rusty was never that happy with the up close and personal.
Danny stepped out on to the patio, passing some giggling girls with bright eyes and who looked like they were clutching handfuls of money, being pursued by some young men who were laughing. Some kind of party game, no doubt. As he glanced around, there seemed to be lots of little couples disappearing into the shadows. And somewhere he could hear someone throwing up. Definitely that time of evening.
Rusty was nowhere in sight.
Danny frowned.
Men's room, he decided. He could imagine that they'd just missed each other in the swirl of people and that Rusty hadn't been able to find him and maybe the call of Nature had been too great not to answer. Danny sidestepped his way past some seriously uninhibited party guests and headed back toward the house to look for the bathroom.
He never found it. A man was walking out the French doors as he was about to walk in, talking to someone over his shoulder as he did so.
"-me!" and I said I'd rather fuck-"
The voice tailed off.
The voice. Danny knew the voice. It had been oh, so many years but he was never going to forget that voice. And the man's eyes had lit on him and there was immediate recognition and immediate scorn.
"Well, if it isn't the little bastard." Cole stared at him. "All grown up and mixing with real gentlemen."
"I'd dispute that," Danny said, his chin lifting a fraction.
"Not even a hint of a Texan accent," Cole smiled unpleasantly. "And look at the way you're dressed. Your mother would be proud."
Danny's fists clenched. Not as if he even cared about his mother but he cared about the way Cole spoke about her.
Three or four more men appeared from behind Cole.
"Who's this, Cole?" one of them asked curiously.
Reluctantly, like it was painful to admit it, Cole answered. "My brother."
Danny bristled. "Ha-"
"Half-brother," Cole corrected himself. "Father's little...mistake."
Mistake. Indiscretion. Error of judgment. Danny had heard all the descriptions. And all the years of sneers washed over him. It didn't matter if he was five and uncomprehending or ten and understanding more or fifteen and standing tightlipped and furious in front of Cole in the Principal's office at Weston Harkett: it hurt. The anger coursed through him.
"Not a Princeton man, then."
The jeer was vivid in Cole's eyes. "Not even close." He looked Danny up and down. "What are you nowadays exactly?"
Cole had always had the upper hand but not now. Not now Danny was all grown up and independent and he didn't have to take any bullshit from anyone least of all the source of so much snide and misery.
"Because you surely don't belong in these circles."
Cole's words were distant. Danny could feel the aggression rippling underneath the surface, so, so close to breaking through
"Eloquent as ever."
It didn't matter what Cole said. Cole's voice was a rhythmic blur of contempt and jibes punctuated by sniggers from his cronies and all Danny could feel was the fury building, suffusing him and it was fuelled by every little put down, every little cuff round the head, every little bit of petty nastiness. A lifetime of not being able to answer back. It was-
"So you here with someone?"
The question reached through the thick red mist like a jolt of electricity.
"What?"
A snort of laughter. "Found your voice, then. Are you here with anyone?" Repeated. Exaggerated. "I'm curious to know whose boots you're licking to get in here."
Rusty. He was here with Rusty. And Rusty was so much more to him than Cole would ever be. Somewhere in Danny's head, he could picture Cole introducing himself to Rusty and that scene didn't end well. Rusty knew about Cole and Randall and was as forgiving about them as he himself was about every single bastard who had...
"Who would ever want to be bothered with a little runt like you?"
Danny swallowed hard. Leave emotion at the door. Focus on what was important. Who was important.
"Someone told me long ago that wealth is measured by more than just money." He saw Cole's lip start to curl into a sneer. "Oh, I don't expect you to get it because money's the only thing you understand and you don't have the imagination to think beyond it. I've got so much more than you will ever have and you don't even know what you're missing. You can't even glimpse it. It's more real than nickels and dimes and you will never, ever know it."
There was a noise of disbelief but Cole's eyes were flickering with uncertainty and Danny's voice had grown in authority, his demeanour had become more commanding. He looked straight at Cole.
"If you were someone else, I might feel sorry for you, Cole. But as it's you? I'm rather glad."
Cole's mouth opened and closed and the haughty had faded away and he looked old and unimportant. They had never been on an equal footing and they still weren't: they were a have and a have not. Danny nodded, satisfied, then turned on his heel and walked away.
Danny stepped back into the house, his mind racing. First things first. He needed to find Rusty and get out of there without Rusty scenting Cole's presence. And then they could get the hell out of there.
He was watching himself and he was kneeling in front of Morrie and Morrie was pushing his head down and Rusty remembered how that felt. Dominance. Impatience. Control.
It tasted the same too.
Idly, he watched himself working clinically, professionally. Applying himself with enthusiasm and expertise, drawing a "Fuck me!" from the man with his pants around his ankles.
Then it was over and happening all over again. Intrusion…sensation…violation…
He was getting to his feet now and the second man was grinning and pushing his calling card into Rusty's top pocket.
"Was I right or was I right?" Morrie was asking and there was other conversation and Rusty wasn't registering it but he was smiling back at them and he didn't know what he was saying – something complimentary, something slick – and then they were gone.
They were gone. Rusty was stood on the balcony with five hundred dollars in his hand and a taste in his mouth that he'd never thought would be there again. But then he'd done what he'd sworn he'd never do again. Rusty let out a half-gasp and turned and hurled the money out into the night.
Nausea swept over him. He fell to his knees and vomited violently, retching till there was nothing more to bring up. Rusty lifted a shaking hand and wiped his mouth. He stared at the door. They were gone. They had to be gone by now.
He needed to move. He needed to find Danny and get the hell out of here.
The party hadn't got any less busier but miracle of miracles, he'd barely stepped through the doors and there was Rusty, standing in front of him.
"We're leaving," Danny announced abruptly and there was no argument from Rusty. In fact… Danny looked at him, frowning. Maybe the crowd of partygoers had gotten too much. "Rusty…?"
"I'm…" Rusty's eyes lost their vacant expression and suddenly, they were crystal blue and reading him, sharp and demanding the truth. "What happened?"
"We need to leave," Danny told him, his hand on his elbow.
Rusty threw it off. "Tell me."
Danny shook his head. "It's nothing."
Rusty's eyes were searching, asking the question and Danny couldn't look away and he couldn't lie. The fact that he wasn't saying a word didn't make the slightest bit of difference and he could see Rusty piecing it together. A society party full of the rich. And something, someone had upset Danny's equilibrium. And it could be a vengeful mark because God knew they'd run up against some nasty pieces of work – Liam and Edgar Barrowby, for example - but that would be a different kind of concern running through Danny. That would be the desire to protect Rusty not to protect Rusty from himself.
Alexander? he saw Rusty wondering and no, it wasn't Alexander. And if it wasn't him and if it wasn't a mark…
If it wasn't Alexander and it wasn't a mark, then it had to be Cole and Randall, Danny's brothers. Half-brothers. Who'd treated Danny like the dirt on the bottom of their shoes. Who'd done their best to oppress and stifle and stamp out a small boy's spirit.
Cold rage suffused him.
"They're here?" Rusty's voice was ice.
"No…no…" Danny shook his head again because they weren't and he wasn't looking over his shoulder, he wasn't but it didn't matter a damn. Rusty was starting through the French doors and Danny's hand was on his arm, pulling him back but it was all too late, all too-
There was Cole. Standing with his friends and holding court. He turned and saw them and his eyes were narrowing again with recognition and the supercilious was back in place on Cole's face. Rusty had stopped dead and Danny could feel the emotion trembling all the way through Rusty.
"That's who you're here with?" Cole's voice was incredulous.
There was arrogance and dismissal and Danny was ready to bite back, to defend, to protect beyond any concept of what was rational but Cole wasn't looking at him.
Danny turned his head slowly and stared at Rusty.
Rusty wasn't meeting his eyes.
"Rus?" Breathed and wanting the answer and not wanting the answer.
Rusty's fingers pulled out the two calling cards. Morrie and Cole. Horror wrapped around his heart. He pushed the cards back into his pocket.
"This is what you've found in life?"
Cole was talking to Danny now but Danny was still looking at him; Rusty was still not meeting his gaze.
"This whore?"
Rus…
"Oh, he's special, alright."
Cole's words formed a hateful soundtrack to the scene.
"He's first-class."
Rusty…
"I don't think I've had a blow-job like that in…well, in ever."
Rus, please…
"Not ten minutes ago, your whore was down on his knees on the balcony up there showing me and my friend how it's done. You can be proud."
He didn't want to look up. Until Danny saw, it wasn't real. It wasn't the truth.
"Oh, he knows how to use his mouth and tongue. Satisfaction guaranteed. Morrie and I were happy to give him our cards. He's a real pro."
But he was killing Danny. Every second he wasn't looking at him, he was killing Danny.
"And that's what he is. A tart, plain and simple. Flash of green and he's anybody's."
Slowly, Rusty raised his gaze and his eyes met Danny's and now Danny could see him for what he was. For all he was. Plain and simple.
Cole was talking and some tiny part of Danny was listening, taking in all the digs, taking in all the vicious and the pointed. The rest of Danny was focused on Rusty, willing him to lift his head and look at him because if Rusty would only look at him then all the vile that Cole was spouting would go away. Because none of it could be true. Cole couldn't have… It wasn't possible… Because if Cole had…
Blue eyes met his.
There was hell. There was misery. There was self-doubt. There was raw pain beyond belief and maybe that pain would never go away.
It all hit Danny like an avalanche, knocking his breath away. He took a step backwards.
"You are so our father's son. You're supposed to screw tarts not obsess about them."
Danny turned his head and looked unblinking at Cole.
"You imagine he's going to be faithful to you? You think filthy whores love anything except filthy lucre?"
Danny could feel the smile tugging at his lips and he saw Cole's uncomprehending expression.
"This is amusing to you? What do you do? Pass him around at parties? See how many-"
"Danny!"
He'd covered the ground between him and Cole in a flash and he was punching, over and over and over, smashing his fist into flesh and breaking bone and the fury wasn't dying, the anger was nowhere near spent.
It took four men to pull him off.
"You've got ten minutes," the cop announced.
It had taken over a day to get to see Danny and all he got was ten minutes.
"Thanks," Rusty said as the door was shut and it was just the two of them.
Thirty hours and right from the moment they'd dragged Danny away in a police car, he'd been all over the authorities but Cole's money spoke. Eight hours of hitting brick after brick in a wall of silence, Rusty had taken a step back and dealt with the problem from a different angle. And he'd succeeded. He hadn't slept, he hadn't washed or shaved, he couldn't remember eating and he was still wearing the damn tuxedo but he'd succeeded.
Focusing on the practical had helped him because this was helping Danny: reason had argued with the primal which was howling for him to drive a truck through the cop shop and grab Danny and go. He'd also been able to lock down on the disgrace because this wasn't about him except in the way that it always was.
But now he was in front of Danny once more and Rusty could feel the shame rising. He sat down opposite Danny.
Neither of them said anything for a moment or two. Danny's hands were knotted together in front of him across the table, his nails digging into his knuckles, and Danny was staring at his hands as if it was taking an immense amount of willpower not to bunch them into fists again.
There were marks on Danny's face. The scene flashed yet again through Rusty's head – Danny finally quelled and Cole being helped to his feet and coward that he was, hitting Danny. Struggling in the grip of well-meaning partygoers who'd grabbed him as he tried to intervene, Rusty was screaming blue murder as the blows landed: Danny didn't even seem to notice.
"Hey." Soft and whispered.
Danny had lost track of time. The attack on Cole and the aftermath was all blurry in his head. The only thing in sharp focus was the memory of the look in Rusty's eyes that was about apology he need never ask for and self-loathing that should never be there and he hated…he hated… He wanted to attack Cole and everyone who'd put that look there. The white noise raged unabated.
And now Rusty was here, sitting in front of him, and he didn't want to see that look again, ever, but Rusty was here.
"Hey."
It was easier to keep staring at his hands.
"You know the worst thing about a vivid imagination?" he said hoarsely and they were possibly the first words he'd spoken since. He didn't remember. "It's all here." He tapped the side of his head. "Live and direct."
The ripples of unhappiness rolled off Rusty and with difficulty, Danny went on.
"All I can see is…"
Rusty trapped on the balcony. Rusty being used and abused. Cole's fingers wrapped in blond hair. The expression on Cole's face. The agony etched into Rusty and Cole wouldn't notice and if he noticed he wouldn't care and he shouldn't be anywhere near Rusty… .
Danny bit his lip till the pain helped him continue. "I want to kill him. Them. All of them." Statement. Fact.
"Hey," Rusty said again and this time it was leaden and unavoidable.
Slowly, Danny looked up at him. "Hey."
He tried. He really tried but the wilderness in Danny's eyes was too much and he had to look away.
"I'm sorry, Danny."
Unexpected tears were threatening to fall and he blinked them back. A hand reached out and covered his and he stared stupidly at bruised and bloody knuckles.
"Tell me."
It was easier if he closed his eyes. The words jerked their way out of him.
"Ran into someone from...someone who wanted to pick up where he left off. Not...not Cole," he clarified because Danny had to know that. He felt Danny's hand tighten. "But Cole was with him and I couldn't get away and I tried... It seemed like the best option at the time. " His face crumpled. Didn't it always? "I couldn't let them-"
He broke off and pulled his hand away. Danny didn't need to hear the why and the wherefore.
Danny heard them anyway.
Rusty, trapped and there was Cole and Cole's friend - Morrie - and they weren't going to take no for an answer and Rusty's instincts would be fight or flight and flight wasn't an option but fight hadn't been either because...because...
Danny stifled the moan of guilt.
There was silence again and Rusty sat and waited as he had done an age ago. Waited for the judgment and disgust. Then Danny was at his side and pulling him upright. He felt arms go round him and his body, tense and rigid, fought the love and the unconditional because how could Danny forgive him this when he couldn't forgive himself?
"Hush," Danny murmured. "It's not you. It's never you."
Rusty's shoulders dropped.
"I tried. I didn't want…"
He hadn't wanted Danny involved. He hadn't wanted to play the whore. He hadn't wanted Danny to end up on assault charges. He'd failed so badly.
"Rus..."
Soothing and comforting and full of neverblame and he couldn't fight any longer because damn it, his soul needed the absolution. He relaxed in the cathartic embrace and let Danny hold him and when he looked at Danny again, he saw guilt unlimited.
"Oh, Danny."
His eyes said that for Danny, he'd do it again in a heartbeat and Danny's mouth twisted.
"It is what it is," Rusty said simply.
Not like he didn't know Danny would put himself through hell for him instinctively and unthinkingly. He thought about Danny taking the third round against Edgar Barrowby. Blind love. It was what it was. Didn't make it any easier to deal with when you were the on the receiving end.
He saw Danny accept the truth with a sigh because this wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last.
"Cole won't drop the charges," Danny said heavily, changing the subject and pulling away. "And there's no way I'm going to say sorry for hitting that bastard-" He turned away, running a hand through his hair. "Anyway. I figure eighteen months. Out in nine."
Danny glared suddenly at Rusty. "In the meantime, you keep the hell away from him. I mean it."
Rusty flashed him a tight smile. "Cole's dropping the lawsuit."
"He's what? Why?" Danny stared at him. "Rusty…"
There was horror and pain in there and it hurt but Rusty couldn't blame Danny for thinking like that. Wasn't like he didn't have precedent. He shook his head quickly.
"Cole was robbed," he explained. "His house was stripped of every material piece of wealth. Every painting, every sculpture, every thing."
Danny nodded slowly. "Unfortunate."
Rusty shrugged. "He really needs to get a better alarm system."
"And?"
"And he got it all back. As it was. Untouched, undamaged and all accounted for. On condition that you go free. Paperwork'd being cleared now. You'll be out of here by this evening."
Danny's eyes were dark and implacable. "And then we rip it all away from him."
Rusty smiled in bleak agreement. "Every last cent."
There was a bang on the door and the cop stuck his head into the room. "Time's up."
Danny pulled him to him for an unexpected but welcome hug then let him go.
Later.
Back in the holding cell, Danny bided his time till he was sure he was unobserved. Then he took out the two calling cards he'd lifted from Rusty's pocket. Cole's card, elegant typeface, clean background, edged with gold. And Morrie's. Eggshell blue with flowing script and a watermark chased through it.
Danny wasn't bothered by the aesthetics. He was going to devise a plan of fierce genius to bring down Cole and Morrie. Rusty didn't know it yet but there were twin targets. And right here was where the plan began.
A/N: Just to make it clear, this is AU to "Body and Soul" verse proper. So this grew from the line "I never forget a mouth as talented as yours" which I used in a chapter of "Body and Soul" but which started life in the idea for this fic. otherhawk wanted to read it. And eventually it got written. Which is usually the way. Yes, mate, all your fault. ;D
Liam and Edgar Barrowby feature in "The Upper Hand".
Alexander is in "Waiting".
Cole is to be found being his delightful self in "Mind and Vision".
Hope it doesn't grate too much if you're not familiar with these.