I've got most of this fic written out. It'll be four parts in all, and there will be a sequel, so be on the lookout for that.

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PART TWO

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The Siren

On his own, Buck's usually brilliant manuevering tactics failed him. He was too tired for dodging anything, let alone an offer of undisturbed rest. He could call Chloe on his cell phone, tell her there'd be a few days' delay.

It shouldn't be too hard to ignore the fact that he was staying with the Antichrist. His fatigue would take care of that, for the most part. The hard part would be dealing with The Something for three more days. Their meeting had granted them less than an hour, yet The Something was getting to him so badly already that Buck felt like hijacking the nearest highspeed car and getting out of there, pronto.

The Something was suffocating him. It made the air between him and Nicolae feel like tar; thick and dark and hard. He almost wondered if he'd be able to move at all through it. Nicolae took care of that, like he took care of everything. Strong hands squeezed Buck's shoulders, and the man they were attached to said, "Come, I will escort you to our quarters. After we are rested, we will call in the maseuss."

Guided down the hallway, Buck thought, Our quarters? I should have known. When he says he wants to keep an eye on someone, he really keeps an eye on them. He felt he should have been more alarmed, but sleep deprivation had more effects on him than the more cooperative attitude he'd found himself adopting.

Nicolae eventually steered him through a doorway, after passing two floors on an elevator. "So this is where all the dignitaries bunk down," Buck said, fighting to keep from yawning midsentence.

The living area was almost the size of Buck's whole apartment in Chicago, and his apartment wasn't exactly dinky. That room and the kitchen flowed together somewhat, in a fairly open space that could also afford some small privacy for a quiet talk.

"No, although I also thought so when I was originally brought here. This suite was given to me alone. Before you is the linen closet, to your left the wash closet, and on the right is the bedroom. You will sleep there, and I will have no argument over this."

Buck blinked. That eliminated all three doors. There was no second bedroom, for all the size the suite had. Ingrained in him by his parents from the time he could speak, his politeness shone through the haze of exhaustion. "But where will you sleep?"

"On the couch," was the reply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for the Antichrist to give up his bed for a journalist.

"No, take the bed."

That seemed to amuse Nicolae. "Only if you care to share it, my friend."

It took a moment for the implications of that to register in Buck's overworked brain. The words were out before he could stop them, and as soon as they had slipped out Buck knew they were the wrong ones. "I shouldn't even be staying here."

Nicolae shook his head. "Do not say that. You will stay here, on that bed, and you will sleep soundly."

Before he knew it, Buck was being guided again, this time toward the bedroom. He argued tiredly and without reason or logic that Nicolae should take the bed. Maybe his parents had gone a little too far when instilling good manners in him. The next thing he knew, Nicolae had pulled the shoes off of both of them and laid down on the bed to quell Buck's protests. Then he was pulled down onto the bed and before he could think of the negative ramifications, his head hit the bed and he was out cold.

For a few minutes Nicolae just watched him sleep.

Deep in the night, when the sky was pitch black but for whatever dim light the streetlamps afforded outside, something made Buck wake up. Only slightly concious, all he knew was that he was cold, and there was another warm lump on the other side of the bed. He scooted close to it, and it enfolded him before what little conciousness he had escaped him again.
Nicolae smiled in sleepy amusement. He'd forgotten to pull the covers over them before they had fallen asleep, and sometime in the night Buck had moved over to him for warmth. He knew it was not himself who had closed the gap because he hadn't moved but to put his arm around Buck.

He slid off the bed, careful not to wake the weary journalist, and slipped out into the main room. Out of the linen closet he grabbed an extra blanket. He covered Buck with it, then got under it himself with a good book.

It was a good hour and a half before the sleeper stirred. Buck sat up and rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to clear the heavy, glued-together feeling. Not recognizing his surroundings, he looked around blearily. One eyebrow lazily went up when he saw Nicolae sitting up next to him.

"And here I thought I was awake."

Nicolae smiled. "You are, my friend."

Buck searched his memory. His other eyebrow joined the raised one. "Oh, yeah."

"Although, I am flattered you would think this a dream." More like a nightmare, Buck thought. His sarcasm had returned with what wits the much-needed sleep had afforded him. "I will call the maseuss and tell him to expect us."

Buck shook his head and tried to rise. "Got a story I need to cover this morning."

One hand kept him down, showing how weak he was. Too much constant running around, too much demand on his attention. "You have slept, but you are still weary, my friend. Do not push yourself too hard."

"I'm not pushing myself too hard. I'm being a good journalist," he shot back with a hint of his old, confrontational nature.

Nicolae clapped him on his shoulder. "You already are, my friend. Stop trying to prove what the world already knows."

I wish You'd stop letting him make good points, Lord, Buck thought. There really was no use killing himself over it, even if he could convince Nicolae to let him go. The story was a small matter, compared to what he usually wrote. Just another riot in New York. Its headline wouldn't even be in large print. It would be one of the small, one-paragraph dealies that had titles the same size as the rest of the print, just in bold type. He assigned himself one of those occasionally, just to make sure the staff at the Weekly knew he wasn't going to nab all the good stuff.

After the call to the maseuss was placed, Nicolae ordered an outfit for him while he was in the shower. It was ready by the time he was out. Dressed only in a terrycloth robe that was an inch too long in the arms and made for a man with a slighter build, he ventured back into the living room, intending to go straight to the bedroom to change. Instead his temporary roommate seemed bent on a little chat.

"The clothes are on the bed. After you are dressed and we have been to the maseuss, we must meet with our old friend Chaim. I have had a most interesting telephone call from him. I told him we will meet him at noon for lunch at a place of your choosing. Where would you like to go?"

His mind drew a blank. Why was it that only happened around Nicolae? And why on earth did the man have to discuss this while he was indecent? Finally Buck got his brain working again. "Anywhere that serves edibles. Within reason."

"Choose a place. Surely you have a preference for one type of food. American, Thai, Italian, Mexican, Chinese," Nicolae suggested. He seemed amused at Buck's brainfart.

"Can we discuss this in a minute? I'd like to get dressed."

Nicolae raised one hand and waved it a little. Oh. He was still on the phone with Rosenzweig.

"Uhh... Chinese."

"Excellent choice." Into the phone, Nicolae said, "We will meet you at Jade Dragon. It is the best Chinese restaurant in New York. Of course. Yes, he will be there. Goodbye, my friend." He hung up and rose from the sofa. "Help yourself to one of the books in my bedroom while I ready myself, Buck. They are all fascinating reading."

Buck nodded dumbly.

He had come out of his stupor and was dressed and settled in a comfortable armchair in the corner of the bedroom, buried in a book when Nicolae entered the room. With the sound of something dropping, Buck became aware he wasn't the only person in the room and his head snapped up. He blushed and returned his gaze to his book. Mentally, he chanted, I didn't see that. I didn't see that. I didn't see that. Then paused as he heard one of the dresser drawers slide open. He cursed silently. I did see that.

Nicolae had dropped his robe in a pile of blue-green terrycloth, and was naked as he selected his apparell. It was all Buck could do not to slap himself, because the image of Nicolae's bare backside wouldn't get out of his head. Looks like he works out, too, he thought after sneaking a peek over the top of his book. Now he really wanted to slap himself. As if it matters whether he's nicely built or not! He's the Antichrist, you're a Christian, and even if he wasn't and you weren't, you're not a woman! But that didn't stop The Something from making its presence known, or make it any easier to keep from shifting in his suddenly uncomfortable sitting position.

Worse, the other man pivoted with a slight squeak of his bare heel against the hardwood floor, and struck up a conversation again. Not only did Nicolae have a talent for charismatic speaking, but also a penchant, apparently, for awkward conversations. Maybe it was just Buck.

"I am glad to see you relaxing, my friend. You are always so tense. We must rectify that while you are here. My personal favorite method of relaxing is to read. What is yours?"

Buck glanced up, then lowered his book when Nicolae's gaze caught his own. Eyes on the face, eyes on the face, eyes on the face. "Writing, I think."

Nicolae smiled as he pulled on his socks. Before his boxers? That's really weird, Buck thought, his eyes accidentally wandering. He snapped them back to the eyes of the newly-declared potentate. "Perhaps that is what makes you such a brilliant journalist. Maybe it is also why we get on so well. We are symbiotes, are we not? You write to relieve your stress, and I gratefully read your works to relieve mine."

"Yeah," Buck replied, only having been half-listening as he tried to stay focused on soft blue-gray eyes. He had no idea what he'd just yeah'd.

On with the boxers, and finally some came some reprieve from the intense concentration on where his gaze went. Nicolae moved to open the closet, keeping up his end of the conversation. "While we take our respite together, perhaps we can get to know each other better."

Reflexively, Buck thought of what Bruce Barnes had taught him about the man. I know all I need to know about you. I don't need to know anything more than that you're the Antichrist. Outwardly, a different knee-jerk reaction gave him a way to respond. Thank God for years of making friends based on small, impersonal encounters. "What's your favorite color?"

It had been hard to keep his composure when the maseuss had been called away on a family emergency and Nicolae had decided to continue Buck's massage. It was even harder as his muscles lost their tension and resolve, leaving only pleasure to be felt in the gentle pressure of the hands on his back, shoulders, neck. He'd been horrified when a small moan had escaped his lips. Nicolae had chuckled and said there was hope for him yet.

"Stress may come with the job, Buck, but losing the ability to relax should not."

There went that accursed name-saying again. He tried to ignore it, and The Something.

A small eternity had passed by the time noon rolled around. After the awkward massage session, Buck was just glad to have an excuse to be more than a foot away from Nicolae. He slid into a booth at the Jade Dragon, sitting next to Rosenzweig rather than be squished against the potentate. The booths were inhumanely small. Slight and frail as he was, even the old Israeli made the bench feel crowded.

Rosenzweig reached over the table to shake hands with Nicolae, then managed a cramped handshake with Buck as he gave an exuberant greeting to the two. "You haven't been dragging Cameron around ill, have you Nicolae? He looks a bit flushed." Then to Buck himself, "Do you have a fever?"

"No, I'm fine," Buck said. He didn't expound. How could he explain that he was flushed because he'd just had a massage from Nicolae and it had left him feeling... weird and a little embarrassed?

"Good, good. How are both of you? Before you ask, I am fine, if a bit excited."

"We are well, though Buck has been over-exerting himself of late. I am making him take a short holiday," Nicolae replied, shooting the journalist a smile.

Chaim's eyes twinkled at that. He seemed to know something the younger men didn't. "That is good. Everyone needs to relax sometime."

And everyone's suddenly pushing me to relax all at the same time, he grumbled inwardly. When he had called his wife that morning, she had agreed that he needed to relax, but had questioned whether that was possible in the presence of the Antichrist. That question, unbeknownst to Chloe as yet, had been answered during the massage Nicolae had given.

Nicolae ordered for them when Buck confessed not knowing what he wanted to eat. Everything sounded good. Chaim ordered for himself. As the three ate, the old scientist explained why he was so excited. The two witnesses at the Wailing Wall, Eli and Moishe, were going to be refuted. Another old scroll had been found on a dig site, and it had foretold of two men who would claim the Messiah had come, and would call down fire from heaven. The scroll claimed the men were as Pharaoh's magicians when Moses confronted him, and it also foretold of the peace treaty that had so recently been signed. According to the prophecy on the old parchment, peace would be true and complete on Earth when the two men were laid to rest.

Chaim's revelation didn't hold Buck's interest the way it should have. Instead, his attention was divided between the tale of the scroll, and the man sitting across from him.

TBC...

L-Syllabub: THANK YOU! You're the only person who's reviewed yet, and that was one of the nicest, most coherent reviews I've had. Read what you have of Immortality and Amorality, by the way. I love it. Buck seems a little OOC, but I haven't even finished Soul Harvest yet, so I don't know. And that line-- just off the top of my head. Took me less than thirty minutes to write that chapter lol. Beginnings are always easiest for me.

The REST of you: Please review. I know L-Syllabub isn't the only one who's been reading this, so I'd appreciate it if the others would start dropping one or two lines.