Part 9

The engagingly rumpled figure lay there, lost in the obliviousness of sleep; handsome features peaceful and appearing to be untouched by time, silvering golden hair ruffled on the pillow as he breathed deeply and peacefully; he appeared to all intents and purposes an angel fallen to earth – so serene, so beautiful, so powerless. Templeton Peck slept, ironically for once at peace with the world.

The figure of blackness stood over the bed and then silently lifted its hand menacingly……..

………………. The sinister silence seemed to hang tantalisingly on the air for a whole heartbeat and then it was dashed away by a flurry of movement. The lights clicked on brightly, the door was slammed shut with a loud bang and something moved behind the looming figure. And on the bed blue, angelic eyes opened, the quilt was thrown back to reveal the harsh form of a magnum that was thrust forward into the new arrival's chest at point blank range.

The figure took an obvious gulp and then pulled itself together, and the face cracked into an overconfident grin. "Hey, Peck, isn't that yet another violation of your parole?" The voice was calm and arrogant. "Nice gun though."

Peck stared, his mouth dropping open in surprise. "Robby?" he breathed. "Robby Blake?" He lowered the gun.

The kid did a mock bow. "The one and only!" his grin was growing even wider by the second.

Murdock cleared his throat and moved from his position behind the door further into the room, his gun still trained on the centre of Blake's back. "This a friend of yours, Face?" he growled doing his best BA impression.

Peck nodded. "Yeah. This is Robby Blake – we were in jail together. Robby, this is HM Murdock, my eh… my friend."

Blake rolled his eyes as Murdock stiffened at the rather ambiguous introduction but chose to ignore it. Then the boy reached out his hand. "I remember, from visiting time."

Murdock disregarded the outstretched hand. "Strange time of day to come calling, isn't it?" he spat.

Blake overlooked the threat inherent in Murdock's surly tone and the pilot's body language. "You know me, Peck," he beamed at the older man still sitting in bed. "Never one to follow the rules, eh?"

Peck chuckled. "Sure," he agreed. He pulled himself off the bed. "You want a drink?" he asked.

Blake nodded. "Yeah, that would be cool," he looked slightly uncomfortable. "I got something to ask you, anyway."

Peck threw a friendly arm around the kid's shoulder. "All in good time," he responded, manoeuvring towards the door. "First let's have a drink."

Murdock felt a sudden surge of emotion twist deep in his gut. This stranger instantly set his alarm bells ringing – who the hell came calling at this time of night? And if he had to, why not knock instead of breaking and entering? The pilot hesitated, licked his lips and tried to rationalise his irrational emotion. He tried to tamp it down but the seed of doubt now planted in his mind was going to be very difficult to weed out. He shivered – he wasn't jealous, surely?

Quickly he put away his gun and moved to take care of Peck's which had been abandoned on the night stand next to the bed. What the hell was he thinking? This was a friend of Face's, a guy who had helped him through the hell of prison – surely he deserved the benefit of the doubt? Walking down the hall Murdock stopped as he heard loud laughter coming from the front room. He forced his features in to a smile as he entered the room, Blake and Peck had broken open a bottle of whiskey and were sitting side by side on the couch.

"Murdock!" Peck welcomed him. "Want a drink?" His voice already sounded slurred but whether that was the remnant of the sleep he had been so rudely awoken from or from the cool mind-numbing alcohol already imbibed, Murdock did not know.

He recognised that Face was in full 'welcome host' mode and he knew with a deep certainty he really couldn't face this scene, not now. He shook his head. "No, I'm fine. If you're sure you're OK I'm gonna hit the sack." He waited for Peck to argue but the familiar features simply smiled blandly back at him.

"OK fine, Robby and I have got some catching up to do."

Murdock nodded, feeling strangely uncomfortable in his own home. "I'll see you later."

Peck nodded. "Tomorrow, yeah!"

Murdock hesitated once more. What the hell did that mean? Tomorrow? Peck wasn't coming back to bed at all? Or more worryingly that he did not want Blake to know he and Murdock shared the same bed? That they were lovers? Murdock snorted. He had been in similar situations before but after the expression of intimacy on the beach at the party, Peck seemed to be more at ease with the relationship, more happy to touch and be touched, especially in public. But now he was disavowing the closeness as he had in the very beginning. Murdock wondered if he should fight but he suddenly felt overwhelmingly exhausted and lacked the stamina to force a scene.

"OK, see you," Murdock acquiesced sadly and turned to go back to the bedroom, the fears crashing around his head destroying his peace of mind. He lay awake crucifying himself as the voices murmured in the other room and the laughter became more frequent and louder.

In the self critical malaise that Murdock had spiralled into, he reproached himself; Face had never laughed like this, well not in a long time. Face never seemed to be this happy – not with him anyway. Maybe it was time to face the facts; they just were not meant to be. He could not make Face happy. Or more accurately; there were other people that Face would be happier with. He had stayed with Murdock out of sympathy and because of the past – he did not like to leave the clinging emotional cripple that the pilot had become. But he would never be happy – he needed what Murdock could never give him and that was what drove him into the arms of others.

Really it would be better for them both. So alone in the dark old neurosis and fears began to claw at the pilot. And, though his rational mind told him he was being stupid, the insanity that had once ruled him began to gather at the edge of his consciousness ready to swoop in and seize control. Tenaciously Murdock clung to his trust in Peck but deep inside the little voice whispered, 'Why trust a conman?' And Murdock's mind lurched fearfully once more.


"Wow, is this really your car?" Blake beamed his boyish enthusiasm bubbling over making him appear even younger than his years and so attractive to somebody he yearned for youth.

Peck chuckled proudly. "Yeah," he replied.

The kid moved forward and ran his hand lovingly over the sleek paintwork and the shining chrome. "Shit! It is one hot car!" He looked back over his shoulder, eyes wide in reverence. "How does she go?"

As their eyes met Peck felt something deep inside of him wriggle with excitement – those eyes burning with admiration and awe, all focused on him! He could not resist it, did not want to and something deep inside him questioned belligerently why should he even try? "Like the wind!" he answered boosting shamelessly.

"Show me!" Blake asked. "Take me for a ride!"

Peck ran his hand through his hair. "Well I …." he began, casting a glance out of the garage towards the house. "Murdock wants me to…" He looked back then and was skewered anew by the bounteous promise in those eyes filled with the wonder of youth. Peck longed so very dearly for what he had lost, and knew he could never resist it personified in the boy before him.

"Please," Blake pleaded softly. "Since I was a kid I've always wanted a blast in a Viper!"

It was the morning after he had arrived in such unusual circumstances. As they had shared the whiskey the night before, Blake had disclosed to Peck that he had been released from prison earlier that day. He had lied to his parole officer about going home since he dare not face his brutal father and the beating he was obviously due. On realising he had no where else to stay, he had come to find Peck. Peck had written to him in prison with a return address, so he had not been difficult to find.

Feeling merrily drunk and more relaxed than he had in a while, Peck had blithely offered for Blake to stay with him as long as he wanted.

"What about Mr Murdock?" Blake had asked.

Peck had shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't worry," he had slurred. "HM's a pussy cat. – he'll be fine with it!"

"I don't want to cramp your style," Blake had pushed.

Ignoring the voice of his conscience with ease Peck had giggled drunkenly. "Cramp my style? No one can cramp my style!" he said effusively.

"But I thought you and Murdock were…."

Peck threw his hand around Blake's shoulders and slumped slightly into the younger man. "Friends," he said. "S'all!"

Blake looked at him unconvinced and the rational part of Peck's brain screamed at him – what the hell was he talking about? But the warm dullness of the alcohol overrode his thoughts with fogginess and he simply smiled up at Blake.

"Oh," Blake said nodding slowly. "That's OK then."

"S'OK." Peck confirmed and rested his head, which had suddenly grown too heavy to hold up, on the other man's shoulder, smiling contentedly.

Peck had not felt quite so happy, however, earlier the next morning when he had woken with a thumping ache banging in his head like a rapper's bass, his mouth felt like somebody had wiped their feet in it and he had the overwhelming urge to vomit. He had groaned and managed to open one eye – the bed beside him was empty. The light burnt his retina, so he closed it quickly. How the hell had he got to bed last night? He could remember talking with Robby and a couple of glasses of whiskey but then…….

…………Shit! It was at that point that his eject button had been actioned and he staggered out of bed, making it to the bathroom just in time!

That had been three hours ago and Peck had fought down the queasiness in his stomach, ignored Murdock's questioning glances and drunk copious amounts of water, so that now he was beginning to feel human again. And the adoring twinkle in Blake's eyes was giving him the final impetus to find himself.

"I guess a quick spin won't make any difference," he said, once more finding it easy to ignore his conscience. "Hop in!"

With a throaty roar he adroitly backed the car out of the garage and on to the road. Gunning the motor, he chose not to see Murdock waving for him to stop and they were gone, squealing down the road like a dragster.

Murdock stood on the porch shaking his head slowly. He drew in a long breath, his fears of the night before had lessened a little with the bright shining morning sunshine. He had been prepared to give Robby Blake the benefit – after all if he was Face's friend then he had to be a good guy. He had even managed to ignore Peck being sick after his excesses the previous night and made small talk with the kid who had woken up on his couch, over coffee. Blake seemed OK but….

Murdock shook his head again. "Faceyman," he whispered as he turned back to go into the house. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Peck had floored it down the freeway and Blake had shrieked with glee. They had swapped over and Blake was even more excited. He drove like a complete maniac when he got the chance of having all that power under his gas foot. Peck had watched him and felt a corresponding burning sensation deep inside.

Blake had taken them up to the hills, screaming with exhilaration as they flew past the other traffic as if it were stationary. Then he whipped the wheel around in his hands and came to a dusty, brake squealing stop on a pull off at the side of the road. They sat silently for a moment, both breathing heavily as the adrenaline thrilled around their bodies. Below them the sprawling mass of LA stretched out as far as the eye could see in every direction.

Blake turned to regard his passenger. "Fuck that was fun!" he said.

Peck smiled at his lusty zest. "Glad you liked it!"

Blake hesitated, his tongue running over his lips nervously. "I wanted to get you alone, Peck," he said softly. "I have a confession to make."

Peck threw a wary look around him, still unable to feel safe in a public place after so many years being on the run.

Very slowly Blake lifted his hand from the wheel and moved it towards Peck's knee. "I never thanked you properly," he began. "Not for saving me in the shower!"

Peck looked down at the moving hand as if mesmerised by it. He gulped. "It doesn't matter. We talked about this already and I…"

"I owe you," Blake's eyes were wide and unflinching. He moved his other hand to run down Peck's flushed cheek. "Fast cars always make me randy as hell," he continued.

"I don't think this is…" Peck began.

"Oh come on," Blake's voice was soft but compelling. "Whose gonna know? It's what you want; what you've always wanted since you first saw me. I've seen the need in your eyes. I just want to thank you." As he spoke he leaned forward until his lips were only inches from Peck's. With a broad smile, he moved the last little distance and enveloped Peck's mouth with his lips. Peck shuddered but did not move away, instead he let out a deep groan, lifted his arms up to embrace Blake and opened his mouth, allowing the boy's tongue entrance.

They embraced in a long, passionate kiss and Blake began to fervently run his hands through Peck's hair and down his back, ravishing with his touch.

Suddenly Peck pushed the younger man away. In a flurry of movement he was out of the car, staggering on shuddering legs through the dirt.

"Peck!" Blake called. "Wait! I didn't mean to…." He hopped out of the car to give chase.

Peck had stopped a few feet away, shivering uncontrollably, his arms clutched to his chest cuddling himself. "What is wrong with me?" he asked, despair welling the tears in his eyes. His body tense and taunt drawn together by sheer emotion.

Blake stopped before him, his mouth hung in uncertainty "Wrong with you? Nothing, nothing at all!"

Peck ran his hand through his hair. "I make so many fuck ups!" he said.

Blake snorted, reached out to place his hand on Peck's shoulder. "Hey, calm down. You and me, we've both seen enough to know that life ain't pretty and it'll screw you, more often than not. You got to take what you can, Peck, you got to make sure you get your share of good things and it don't matter who you crawl over or who you hurt to get it!"

Peck sighed and shook his head. "You sound so much like me when I was your age, Robby!"

"So? You were right!"

"No, I was not." He let out a long, deep sigh. "I got to go home."

"Peck, I'm not asking for your commitment, I don't want your devotion. Just a little fun – what can be wrong with that?"

"Nothing, Robby, nothing at all. It's just not what I need. I got somebody who can give me all of that stuff and more." He began to walk slowly back to the car. "I don't know why he puts up with me but he does. Take me home, Robby!"

"But….."

"No. I can be strong. I can say no. I need to think about this and I need to talk to Murdock, I badly need to talk to Murdock. What I don't need is another fuck up and neither do you. We shouldn't be together – even that breaches our parole. I think you should go home, Robby. Go talk to your dad, try and start again. Don't give up on him, just cos he's given up on you. Somebody very important to me taught me that along time ago."


TBC