Chapter 2

Silky, Sexy Hair

Todd heard the shower turn off as he polished off the rest of John's frozen macaroni and cheese. He didn't know what to do with himself, exactly. John had gotten a DNA sample of Fraudd, and would drop it off at the lab on his way to this gala tonight- some crap involving David Vickers and Dorian. What was most important was that he would talk to Tomas Delgado- who hopefully would have some information on this whole mess. The bad part was that John was doing everything, and Todd was stuck in the house like a nine year old on prom night.

He tossed the empty Stouffer's container into the trash bin and wandered over to John's bedroom door, which was ever so slightly ajar. He nudged it open wider with his foot and leaned in the doorway. John was in the adjoining bathroom but that door was also open, and Todd could see John's reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was wearing black slacks and nothing else, and painstakingly blow-drying that silky black mop of his.

"What are you going to ask Delgado?" Todd asked, above the dull roar of the CHI. John whipped around, startled. Didn't jump exactly, but a satisfying start just the same.

"Jeez, what are you doing sneaking up on me like that?"

"I didn't sneak. I'm not even up on you, if you'll notice. I'm way over here."

"King of semantics." John said, shaking his head. He ran a hand through his hair, seemed satisfied with his blow-out, and set the pricey tool onto the bathroom counter. "Now what are you asking me?" he said, speaking into the mirror where he was looking at Todd's reflection as well.

"What are you going to ask Delgado about? At the party?" Todd repeated. John poured a small amount of product from a shiny purple bottle into his hands, and then expertly ran it through his tresses.

"I thought Delgado wanted to talk to me?" John said. "You're the one that made the plans."

"This is kind of like a ritual for you, isn't it? This hair routine?"

"Oh come off it."

"Does that bottle say "Silky Sexy Hair" McBain?"

"It works well."

"I should say so."

"You like?" John asked, looking up at the mirror flirtatiously.

"Just doing research, actually," Todd said quickly. Too quickly, maybe. "I used to have long hair. Longer hair that you even. I might grow it out again. Of course I don't think I could use something called Silky Sexy Ha—"

"—enough of that now," John cut him off.

"Are you sure that's not for girls though, John?" Todd continued anyway. "Purple bottle... where does purple stand these days? Is it still kind of a bi color? Of course I'm a bit behind on things. I was away for eight years you know."

John left the mirror and crossed into the bedroom, pulling a black shirt from his closet and slipping into it. Todd appraised him from his perch in the doorway.

"That's a silky, sexy shirt John," he said, with a straight face no less. "I think we have a winner."

John began buttoning up the shirt smoothly, watching Todd while he did.

"Why are you standing there watching me dress?" he asked smokily, raising an eyebrow. Todd's ears began to grow red, and he blinked a couple dozen times.

"I'm just bored John, don't be weird," he said at last. John looked at him for another beat, and then gave a maddening little shrug. It was happening again, the crackle of energy in the air. They were only about three feet apart now...

Todd turned abruptly and walked over to John's closet. He was good at throwing up those force fields.

"Oh you've got much nicer things in here," Todd mused, perusing the sea of black that made up John's wardrobe. "This tux is pretty fly. You sure you don't want to wear it? I'm sure this event is black tie."

"Oh, the 'No you're not getting married after all cause your fiancé had your buddies baby and passed it off as yours' tux? I think I'll pass."

"It's a shame, though. That's a Buchanan-class tuxedo there. Hey, maybe I should wear it?"

"Why would you wear it?"

"Because maybe I should go to this thing with you."

"Don't even think about it!" John said roughly, crossing over to Todd and putting the tuxedo back in the closet. "This thing is high stakes, and everyone is going to be there. Let me get the proof we need first. I don't need all hell breaking loose!"

They were inches apart now. Todd narrowed his eyes at John, deciding on whether to challenge him on this. Tension was mounting between the two. But it was more than the conflict of wills. It was the nearness and the banter and the glimpses of skin and the secrets and the needs and the silky sexy...

"I'm not good at waiting." Todd's voice was strained. "I'm not good at sitting tight."

"It's the only way I know I can protect you," John said intensely, taking a hold of Todd's wrist for emphasis. He shouldn't have been touching him. Touching was a bad idea. "Somebody out there wants you dead," John continued. "For all we know, it's Delgado! You want to walk right into his hands?"

"Well how am I supposed to just wait for you to save me?" Todd shouted, his eyes flashing. "It's not how I operate!"

"Well you came to me, sweetheart! This is my home, and my rules, my operation!"

"Well fuck you John McBain!"

They stared at each other for the briefest moment; eyes angry, hearts pounding- both seemed at a loss for words. And then their mouths crushed together with such ferocity that neither man had the wherewithal to pull away. There was only John and Todd and their amplified heartbeats, blood coursing hot through their bodies, lips and tongues and breath and silky, sexy hair. It was instinct and madness and no one was in control; no one knew where it had come from or how long it would grip them.

Apparently, it would grip them until John's phone went off. Todd broke away quickly at the sound of the electronic chimes. John cursed under his breath as Todd whipped around and sped out of the room.

"Hey, where are you going?" John called after him, following him into the living room where Todd had returned to the couch, and was already putting the TV on. John's heart was still thudding from their encounter. "Turn that off," he said, angrier than he'd meant to.

"Their covering the party," Todd said, not looking at him. "You know you're going to be late, if you don't get to stepping."

"You know, we were kissing just now," John said exasperatedly. He didn't really want to talk about it, either. He never wanted to "talk about it." But he also didn't like Todd running away.

"I was there John," Todd said shortly.

"So that's it? End of conversation?'

"All I've got to say. You never struck me as the Chatty Cathy type, John."

"Fine. I've got to get going. I've got to go find out how I can help you."

"Great. You do that, and I'll wait here and try not to feel like Betty Draper."

John snatched up his coat and headed for the door. Stopped at it. Turned around and went back to the couch, sitting down so close to Todd that their thighs were touching. Todd squirmed and stared at the television. Blanca Morales was interviewing David Vickers. John reached up and took him by the chin, turning Todd's head so that it faced his, and kissed him again, deeply. Todd tried not to melt, but resistance was futile. He kissed John back, their breaths intermingling, and instead of feeling anxious, he suddenly felt very calm. John pulled away softly.

"This isn't over," he said, holding Todd's gaze.

"Okay, whatever," Todd mumbled with feigned indifference. John rubbed his hand across Todd's furry cheek.

"The beard's gonna take some getting used to," he said playfully.

"Get to the party, loverboy," Todd said, wriggling out of John's reach. John stood up, grabbed his jacket again.

"Okay, I'm out of here. I'll see you in a few hours."

"Not if I see you first."

Truer words were never spoken.