The next morning was kind of a blur. The moment it was even kind of decent for someone to call, both of their phones were ringing off the hook. Catherine was calling Craig, leaving him several voice mails and text messages until he gave in and picked up. Rick's phone was even ringing off the hook, but his caller was someone that he knew he couldn't take the call while in Craig's apartment. He instead busied himself in Craig's kitchen, putting together some kind of breakfast in his slacks and open button up while Craig deflected Catherine's questions like an expert. He even did it while injured; Rick had to give him MVP of the night, in his head.

"No, Cat, I refuse to tell you anything about last night until I can speak to you face to face," Craig said for the umpteenth time, "Of course not! Hadn't you guessed there was at least a twenty-five percent chance of that, don't scold me for that kind of thing, Catherine."

Rick didn't know what Catherine was scolding him about, but he had a feeling it might've had something to do with her belongings, such as the wig that sat on the coffee table. Craig listened for a long moment before adjusting his bathrobe again in annoyance. Rick set down toast and a few slices of melon on a plate for him while idly listening to their amusing conversation.

"Jesus…, no! I'm not telling you anything until I can see you, I refuse Catherine," he said with exasperation, "You know exactly how stubborn I am and I don't really care for your threats!"

Craig grabbed some of the melon and held it up to his mouth while Cat chattered away on the other end. Rick started to pay more attention to that now, watching while the green honeydew pass his lips slowly. Hah, yeah, Rick made the right decision asking him out. Craig was interesting and fiery, as well as vulnerable and just damn sexy. The corners of Rick's mouth twitched as he heard Catherine having a near coronary on Craig's cellphone. He reached over and stole the phone from Craig, who was okay with not speaking to his chattering friend until he realized that Rick intended on speaking with her.

"'Ey, Cat, s'me," Rick said, ignoring the immediate stream of questions, "Can Craig call ya back, he's kinda busy right now."

Without waiting for an answer, Rick pressed the red button and set the phone down on the table. Craig almost looked annoyed, but Rick saw the corners of his mouth upturn just slightly.

"That was genius," Craig said, sarcastically, "She'll stop calling for all of an hour while she draws wild conclusions and then I'll get a never ending stream of voice mails of her just squealing."

"Just enough time to get out of here," Rick said with an innocent smile.

"How chivalrous of you."

"Always," Rick said, grabbing his blazer off of the back of his chair.

He stood up and pressed a kiss to Craig's forehead, "I had fun. I'll see you at the library; call me if something happens to your ankle."

"O-okay," Craig said, sounding slightly disappointed.

There wasn't much Rick could do about it, considering who was calling him. He maybe should have just come out with it and told Craig why he disappeared in the club, so this would make more sense, but it didn't matter right now. It was only until he was on the phone and driving away that Rick realized he hadn't gotten Craig's phone number. Oh god, he was a dumbass.

The phone finally picked up, "Rick? RICK, I swear to everything I hold holy that I didn't know that was your gi-ow, ow, woah, okay. Lemme slow down, mate, yeah? Got a raging headache from the fiery depths of Hades cause of your uh… gal-pal last night."

"Wheats, I swear to god, you hit on one more of my dates and we aren't friends anymore," Rick said with mock anger.

Wheatley, of course, believed him, "But-but! I swear, I didn't even know uh, she was with you!"

"And now you have to make me feel like a tool for ditching Craig to deal with your end of the business," Rick said with an exasperated sigh.

"Well, excuuuuse me for working the crow—Wait, Craig? You knew about him?" Wheatley's voice was starting to rise in pitch.

Rick rolled his eyes, "Yeah, I did."

"Craig, so that's his name, huh… Y'think I could meet hi—"

"NO."

"Alright, partner, alright! You didn't have to punch me in the jaw though. That hurt! That really, really hurt, you know. I've got a bruise and it hurts just to talk! To talk, mate!" Wheatley said, still intent on making Rick feel bad about it, "And a hangover on top of that from your little girlfriend last night. Clever little minx, he was…"

"Yet here you are, talking my damn ear off," Rick sighed.

"Did… everything go well then? Is he alright? Busted ankle and all that, no trips to the emergency room? I'd pay that, you know, in full, all my fault, really," Wheatley babbled on.

"Yes, he's fine, now drop it, you ass," Rick hissed.

"Fine fine, might go check on him myself, since you're being so stubborn about it," Wheatley sniffed.

"And get a restraining order. You don't know him very well, do you?" Rick said with almost a note of laughter in his voice.

"Restraining order! I was only trying to—Well I, just—The nerve of some people you know, I can't even believe…"

"Wheats, you felt him up in the damned club. You should be glad I'm not finding you and beating you to a pulp right this second. Did you have something you wanted to tell me or is this just a pleasure call?"

"O-oh, he… he mentioned that, did he? In my defense, I was pretty drunk from all of those appletinis Craig managed to slip me last night. I dunno how he even managed to do it! It just kind of happened and now here I am, with this… this raging headache and—"

"The point, Wheats," Rick said in a dangerously low voice.

"Oh, yes, right, right. The point. I called for two things, one being that you punched me in the face last night, like a prick, but I forgive you and apologize to Craig, if you manage to ever let me see him again. The second is that apparently, because of your girlfriend last night, the Johnsons have decided to release the club to us permanently!" Wheatley babbled, slowing down near the good news.

Rick paused, confused at what Craig had to do with this at all, "What to do you mean, because of Craig?"

"Well, it is under one condition and one condition only and that is we make the place more accessible to transfolk and the like, crossdressers, Drag Queens, all that business," Wheatley said, "Craig had a little run-in with that dick of a bouncer. Jerry, you remember him? The big one with the lazy eye?"

"Yeah, I remember him," Rick said with a roll of the eyes.

"I had to save him from that little mess, which led to you punching me in the face. Is that the thanks I get for doing something so kind as that? Really, Rick, are you that much of a dick to your old pal Wheatley?"

"If you hadn't let the books get screwed up in the first place, Wheats, I wouldn't have had to leave him behind!" Rick growled.

"Oh… right, yeah, I guess you're… right about that and everything, but ANYWAY, do you think we should agree to that?"

"Of course we should," he said, "I'll be right over after my shift."

"I don't even know why you keep that job," Wheatley said, "It's so… menial for someone who's got enough like you do."

"It keeps me familiar with a lot of faces, let's just say that," Rick said, hanging up the phone.

That job was going to get him a chance to see Craig again, if anything. Now, he had some things to get…

EPILOGUE

It was several weeks later and the renovations to the library had gone better than expected. A couple days after Craig's ankle had healed and he returned to work, he got a neatly written letter in his inbox that was signed by a Cave and Caroline Johnson. It was an apology letter for the harassment he'd gotten at the club Rick had dragged him to, harassment from the bouncer, according to the letter. It was sincere and heartfelt; aside from the burning humiliation that Craig felt while reading it, it was a nice gesture. Even nicer was a very hefty check enclosed, written as a donation to the library.

Craig hadn't planned on following legal action on that front, for fear of embarrassing himself like no other, but he had a hunch that donation was insurance in that field. They didn't know anything about him, so they had to assume he was probably being serious about it; which made him feel a little bad in the matter, but he quickly brushed it off.

He hadn't seen Rick in a very long time, since the lug left without exchanging numbers. He thought about him occasionally, but it was eventually only in passing. Craig finally convinced himself it was meant to be like this and he should be upset with the pervert for doing all of that to him.

It did bother him in the back of his head that Rick had been sweet, and good company. Aside from all of that, it had been… well, honestly it had been really great sex. That part was more than a little disappointing, but it was just going to have to be that way. He went about his business and even managed to sate Catherine's curiosity long enough to get her to lay off of him about the date. He was pretty sure she sensed that he was a little upset about how it ended. That was fine; she could assume what she liked.

Things got back to their monotonous normal in less than two weeks. Craig was discretely reading something behind his desk one day when he heard the normal chattering that might have started when the deliveries were made. That was highly unusual, the deliveries weren't usually today. Craig carefully bookmarked his place with a finger and stood up to see what the commotion was about. Just at his door appeared a certain familiar brown-uniformed man with a cocky grin. Craig's eyes widened and he bristled immediately.

"The hell are you doing here!" he spat.

"Woah, sweetheart, glad to see you, too," Rick laughed, "Package for you."

Craig frowned deeply, but he signed for the package anyway. The sender was… Rick. Craig glanced up at him with a deep glare.

"I was hoping I could ask you out again," Rick said, suddenly sounding sheepish, "Maybe without a wig this time."

Craig set the package down on the desk and glanced at the book he was reading, setting it face down as well with an evil glint in his eye.

"No, I'm asking you out," Craig said, finally turning around, "Saturday, meet me at my apartment."

Rick turned his head slightly to one side. That was unexpected, but he didn't decline, "Sure, what time?"

"Early, two o'clock," Craig said with a thin smile, "We'll have things we need to get. I'll cook."

Rick smiled, "Okay, I'll be there."

Craig watched him leave and flipped the book around to look at the title again. It was called Rope, Bondage, and Power.