A/N: Takes place after Guy Talk chapter 28, Auld Lang Syne.

Roscoe had been watching Josef Kostan for five years and Dr. Linden for nearly two. But he wouldn't be watching them much longer because tonight was a farewell party.

Roscoe considered himself a bartender although his official title was beverage coordinator. He worked for a catering company that provided food and drink for the rich and famous of L.A. Big events, intimate gatherings, private parties, his company planned them and Roscoe served at most of them. Roscoe enjoyed his job because it gave him time to indulge his hobby which was studying people. In L.A. you saw all types under all kinds of circumstances. Sometimes the best-dressed and brightest were the most desperate. Roscoe saw a lot of the same people many times throughout the year. They travelled in the same circles and attended the same affairs.

At first glance Josef Kostan was like hundreds of other guys he had seen over the years: A white boy too young to have so much money. But Roscoe had been wrong about Kostan. Not about everything. He was certainly white. Roscoe's experience was that folks in L.A. either worshipped the sun or avoided it. Kostan avoided it. He was also young and good-looking and really rich but he wasn't a crazy kid who couldn't handle money. And he knew fine liquor and could handle that too. He didn't eat the hors d'oeuvres or other food that was provided but he had a discriminating palate for scotch. Roscoe knew because he had tested him.

The first time Roscoe saw him, Kostan was with a well-known and important man. Roscoe had three types of scotch – good, better and best – and over the years he had become expert at knowing what to serve to whom. Because Kostan was with a player, Roscoe served them both the best stuff. Kostan had carried his glass with him. At the next event Roscoe served him the good stuff. Kostan had taken a sip, never said a word, but left his glass on the bar. Roscoe had tried him with the better stuff as well but again the glass was left after one sip. Roscoe had always given him the best since then and Kostan took his glass with him. Roscoe admired that.

Kostan was accompanied by beautiful young women, often a different one each time. Roscoe had no particular feeling about that. There was no evidence that he was married and the women were happy to be with him. Over the years Roscoe had seen a few of them meet Kostan after they were no longer together and there didn't seem to be any hard feelings. The guy might be a hound but apparently he wasn't making enemies.

Or maybe he was. His office got bombed a couple of years ago. Roscoe was unclear whether it was a terrorist action against a prominent figure in the world of finance or a business rival gone crazy or a personal vendetta. Kostan was supposed to be in the building that night but had unexpectedly flown to New York.

A lady lawyer a couple of years ago had lasted longer than the other women. She was a corporate attorney at Kostan Industries and she was with Kostan on and off for several months. About that time some friends started joining them occasionally. Roscoe was surprised to find that he had heard of them. Mick St. John was a PI and Roscoe had heard his name a few times over the years. Roscoe had thought he must be an older man but then he overheard that St. John's father had also been a PI in L.A. years ago. Roscoe had given St John the scotch test. He was more talkative than Kostan. He leaned across the bar and asked quietly, "Can you help me out here? Is this as good as it gets?" Roscoe had smiled slightly and given him the best brand from then on.

St. John's girlfriend Beth Turner had created some buzz of her own as an internet reporter for BuzzWire but she had left after a year. A former boyfriend was killed and then her boss was murdered. Roscoe figured anyone would want to change careers after that. Her new boyfriend and Kostan were friends and she was doing public relations for Kostan Industries.

Roscoe had wondered if Kostan and Simone might be serious but had changed his mind after seeing St. John and Beth. They were a solid couple. Roscoe didn't see that with Kostan and Simone and he was proved right a few weeks later when she left L.A. But pretty soon Dr. Linden had come on the scene. Roscoe thought there was more to her than Kostan's other women. He was pretty sure Kostan thought so too although he might not realize it yet. Roscoe had seen her only twice before Kostan was on his own again. And he was one sorry specimen. Oh, he looked the same and he was fronting as if nothing was wrong but Roscoe had some experience in these matters. Kostan's eyes were empty and his soul was dead. Roscoe was almost ready to break his own rule about never dispensing advice with the drinks but he didn't have to because suddenly she was back again. They had been together ever since. Later Roscoe heard that she had moved in with him and apparently that had never happened before.

There had been some talk a year or so ago when Dr. Linden gave up her psychiatric practice. A patient had committed suicide. Roscoe hadn't known what kind of doctor she was until then. She looked young so maybe this was the first time she lost a patient.

Also about a year ago Roscoe overheard part of a conversation about Travis and concluded that St. John and Beth had adopted a baby boy. "Sounds like your friends have started a family," he said to Kostan when he came to the bar.

"Cat. They've got a cat," Kostan said grimly. He didn't seem to like the idea. Was it possible he was jealous of the cat, Roscoe wondered. More likely he was allergic or just didn't care for cats.

They missed a couple of parties the previous summer when they went abroad for a month. The next time he saw them was at a ballet benefit. St. John and Turner were with them and another couple Roscoe hadn't seen before. The guy looked uncomfortable in his tux. Kostan and St. John stayed in the lobby when intermission was over but the new guy obediently followed his date. Man's on a short leash, Roscoe thought, while hiding a smile.

The next news was that St. John inherited big bucks from some great-aunt he never expected to get a dime from. He and Beth Turner were going to travel for a year.

In December Kostan and Dr. Linden met their friends in Italy for Christmas and New Year's. A few months after they got back they announced they had liked Italy so much that they were moving there for awhile. This is what it's like to be rich, Roscoe thought. You have a whim and can afford to act on it. On the other hand, Kostan owned a villa in Italy and he could connect to his business from anywhere, so why not?

And that led to this evening when some friends were hosting a goodbye party. Roscoe regretted losing his favorite subjects but he supposed he would look around and find someone else to study.

They both looked good tonight, as usual. Kostan cared about clothes and wore them with a certain style. Dr. Linden had the silhouette for fashion. Roscoe had read that word somewhere. Fashion folks talked like that. They would say she was wearing a pale pewter sheath with clean lines and simple accessories. Roscoe thought she was wearing a gray dress that fit very well, with sexy shoes and a real ruby heart. A gift from Kostan of course. Roscoe approved.

When the evening ended they came over to thank him and say goodbye. Kostan had a firm grip, not like he was going for a squeezing contest but Roscoe got the impression he could bring pressure to bear if he felt like it. His skin was surprisingly cool. Roscoe wondered if Dr. Linden minded but then discovered her hand was cool too. Cold hands, warm heart.

Roscoe realized he might never see them again. If they stayed away a few years he could be retired when they returned. They and their friends seemed likely to remain together but nothing was certain. People grew apart or wanted their space. Growing old together was a comfort for some but a burden for others. On the whole, Roscoe was satisfied with it ending like this. He could remember them as young and attractive and in love forever. Nothing wrong with being a romantic.

Josef and Sandrina sat shoulder to shoulder in the back of the limo as Benny drove them home.

"It's almost over," Sandrina said.

"We leave in two days," Josef agreed. "Any regrets?"

"No, I'm looking forward to Italy."

"Me, too. And not just because Mick and Beth are there. It's time to leave L.A. for awhile."

Josef was slouched on the seat, hands in his pockets and legs stretched out. Sandrina's legs were crossed. Josef watched her crossed leg swing gently, strappy shoe dangling.

"You know what I want to do when we get home?" he asked.

"Does it start with foreplay?"

"Nope. This entire evening has been foreplay. I'm going to strip you and screw you as long as I can."

"Two minutes?" Sandrina asked with exaggerated eagerness.

"If you're lucky. You can keep on the heels and the ruby."

"In that case, 30 seconds."

"But they'll be the best 30 seconds of our lives."

"You always say that."

"It's always true, isn't it?"

"Well, yes. Except our first time."

"But you took me on anyway."

"I felt you had potential."

"If you want to 'Feel my potential' right now, go ahead."

Benny dropped them at the front door and drove the car around to the garage. On their way upstairs Josef unzipped Sandy's dress and she got his jacket off. They fell onto the big bed in the show bedroom. Josef slipped off her dress and lingerie and removed his own clothes. He spread her legs. There was a small cloud a couple of shades darker than Sandy's head. Josef loved to bury his nose in it, pleasuring her with his tongue and eventually his cock ...

Sandy's voice broke in teasingly. "We haven't used this bed since the room freezer was finished."

"And there's not much time left," Josef said, grinning. "How about one for the road?"