Part 22

After six weeks of working at Azrael's Sanctuary, Maria knew all of the waitresses and customers by name. Each one had a story, but few were willing to tell it despite her willingness to listen. Raphael was the most talkative, but she had quickly realized that his ramblings weren't random at all; despite his seemingly easygoing manner he was very careful of how much information he revealed.

Gabriel was an enigma and she wished she knew the real story of his past. She had heard a dozen different stories about the man and the only thing that remained consistent each time was the description of him as an assassin with ice in his veins. That seemed so wrong based on what she had witnessed of the gentle giant's behavior. When he wasn't behind the bar he was mingling with his customers, talking and laughing right along with them. But it was in the early hours of the morning when they were cleaning up after closing that her curiosity really took notice.

He always sat at the table in the darkest corner of the bar, his big hands curled around a glass of single-malt Scotch while he stared into space. His eyes told their own story though, filled with a sadness too great to put into words; some nights the expression was replaced with anger and other nights regret took its place. Whatever ghosts lurked in his shadowed past, weren't benevolent and it was easy to see that he was tormented by the memories.

Most nights Raphael hung around to lock up and see the waitresses safely to their cars, waiting until the parking lot was empty before going back inside to help Gabriel up the stairs to his apartment if he'd had too much to drink and he needed it. Maria hadn't witnessed such a scene but she had overheard Raphael and Stone discussing it at closing one night. Twice the bouncer hadn't been there, and Stone had stepped in and handled things, making sure no one bothered the waitresses or harassed them on the way to their cars as they left for the night.

Stone was a paradox and Maria couldn't make up her mind about the woman. She had learned that the woman and Michael shared the same profession, but she still wasn't sure if they had ever shared a bed. She had watched them a couple of times when they had been in the bar at the same time, studying their interaction with each other, but nothing they had said or done so far had given her any clues about a past sexual history.

The few times that Stone had been at the bar and Michael had been elsewhere, the woman had sat at the counter and subtly pried for information. The strange thing was that Stone didn't seem to be prying because she was checking out the competition or because she was jealous, she just seemed to be genuinely curious. Although she hadn't appreciated it when Maria had asked some questions of her own and the woman had been quick to inform her that her past was no one's business but her own. After that, Maria hadn't bothered attempting any further conversation with Stone.

Sanchez had turned out to be very nice, even though he rarely spoke unless someone engaged him in conversation. He was an interrogator for the Company, but unlike most of the others, he didn't talk about what he did when he was away from home. She had been surprised to learn that he was married and had several children. She had learned that a lot of the predominantly male patrons of Azrael's were divorced, the rest were single, and they all bragged about their sexual conquests. Sanchez just nursed his Tequila and observed them, winding down in his own way before returning home to his family.

Bootleg was a computer expert and his ability to hack into any system in existence had saved the lives of most of them on one occasion or another. Tall, thin, skin that rarely saw the sun, and thick glasses; he looked the part of the consummate computer nerd, but she had quickly learned to not be fooled by their appearances.

Axel was the man who handled their field equipment, fitting the vehicles with bullet-proof windows and panels as well as creating specially-designed compartments that hid multiple weapons. He was short, bald, heavily tattooed, and had a nose ring, but not a single person in the bar messed with him.

Novak and Hawkins were the rookies in the bunch, and their inexperience often got them in trouble with the others because neither of them had learned to keep their mouths shut. Novak had the added problem of not knowing how to keep his hands to himself and he had been called on his behavior more than once but he had yet to learn his lesson.

Michael didn't spend much time with the rest of the guys who frequented the bar and she was pretty sure Novak and Hawkins would fall off of his radar as soon as he grew bored with messing with them. He knew everyone there but he tended to stick with a select few when he came in and for the most part he was usually relaxed when he was there.

There was an unspoken code that existed among them; a sense of duty, honor, and pride that bound them together. It wasn't the kind of thing that an outsider could ever hope to understand, but it was something that could be felt when in their company.

She was delivering another round of drinks to the band onstage when a commotion from the other side of the bar caught her attention and she quickly weaved her way through the tables to see what was going on.

Michael was leaning back against one end of the pool table, long legs stretched out in front of him as he grinned infuriatingly. She knew that expression - it was the one he wore whenever he had succeeded in pissing someone off… intentionally.

"I don't know what you're getting pissed off about," Michael drawled lazily. "I said I'd buy the first round."

"Yeah, after you implied - again - that I don't know what the fuck to do with my dick."

The grin didn't slip as Michael shook his head. "Hey, look, rookie, I concede defeat; you lasted a night in Stone's bed."

"More than one night, asshole."

Michael took a drink of his beer and set the bottle back down beside his right hip. "Well, good for you. I'm glad to hear everything's sheep-shape."

"What?"

His eyebrows rose innocently. "What?"

"Did you just say…" Hawkins gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. "What'd you just say?"

Michael frowned as if he were actually trying to recall his words. "Just that I'm glad to hear everything's ship-shape."

Hawkins narrowed his eyes and studied the agent for several long seconds before he turned away, but he whirled right back around when Axel and Bootleg started up a chorus of baa-baas." "You think this is funny?" he snapped angrily.

"What's the problem, rookie?" Axel asked. "He's just fuckin' with you."

Hawkins stupidly walked right into Michael's space and ignored the growled warning to back off. "I don't know what your problem is, but if you've got a problem with my relationship with Stone you can just - " He took several steps back when the other man started to laugh. "What's so goddamned funny?" he demanded.

"Hey, Stone, you wanna help me out here?" Michael called over his shoulder.

Stone took her time walking around the table to join them. She had been watching their pissing contest for the last half hour and she had been waiting for the inevitable. Hawkins was young and naïve enough to think that a couple rounds of sex equaled a relationship. She had known going in that he wasn't going to be able to stick to the rules, but it was the perfect opportunity to toughen him up a little bit. He had the chance to become a damn good agent if he learned to shut his emotions off and focus on the goal, and this was going to be lesson number one.

"What's goin' on, boys?"

Michael resumed his earlier position, leaning on the pool table and he glanced at Stone as he spoke. "Your boy here seems to think the two of you're in a," he held his hands up to make air quotes, "relationship." He snorted. "Dumbass probably thinks he's as good in bed as I am."

"As good?" Stone shook her head. "No."

Hawkins stood up straighter and he smiled smugly. "Y'hear that, Guerin? I'm better than you are."

Michael smirked. "All I heard 'er say was you're not as good as me."

"Whatever. You've got your interpretation and I've got the truth."

"Sounds like you've pulled the wool over your own eyes."

Hawkins crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the others when they snickered. "That's enough with the fuckin' sheep jokes." He turned his head to look at Stone. "Would you just tell him so he'll get off my back?"

"Tell him what?"

He stood there for nearly a full minute as he tried to wrap his mind around what was happening. "Tell him we're in a relationship and that I'm a better fuck than he ever was."

"You don't want this announced publicly, rookie," Sanchez warned him. He had been one of them long enough to know what Stone was doing and why it was necessary. Busting the kid's chops over what he mistakenly thought was a real relationship was one thing, but humiliating him over his performance in the bedroom was a whole other matter and he didn't think it was necessary.

He shook his head when the kid stubbornly insisted on having Stone declare which man was the better lover. Well, he had tried to warn him, he thought as he downed a shot of Tequila and watched the show along with everyone else present. Some people only learned the hard way, and unfortunately, Hawkins was one of them.

"Let's just get this relationship nonsense outta the way first, Hawkins," Stone said as she leaned in to kiss Michael right in front of him. "I told you that first night that I don't do relationships. We're not dating, we're not exclusive, and you're not the only man I've fucked in the last couple of months."

"What?" He didn't know if he was more shocked by her denial of their relationship of by the fact that she had just kissed Guerin and then looked him right in the eye and said that he was just a one-night stand. "But, the nights we spent together - "

"We didn't spend any nights together," she denied, shaking her head. "We hooked up twice and both times we went to a hotel. You're not a total zero in the sack, but you're still young; you have no stamina and you're only good for one round."

"How would you know? You didn't stick around to find out."

"I stuck around long enough."

"What, an hour?"

Michael snickered. "You couldn't get it up again after an hour?" He held his hands up in a bid for silence. "Okay, okay, so you have a longer recovery time than some of us. But, I'm sure you were getting her off while you were workin' up to round two, right?"

"What?"

Michael feigned shock. "Oh, wow, so you both got off once and that was it?" He took a drink of his beer before glancing at Stone. "Only once? Seriously?"

"Maybe once is all it takes," Hawkins snapped.

"That may be true for you, but trust me when I tell you she's not interested in a guy who's only gonna make her come once and then call it a night."

"Stone?"

"Masochist," Sanchez muttered under his breath as he stood up and stretched. "I'm out for the night, you guys; I can't watch the rest of this massacre." He rolled his eyes when his announcement was ignored as the others waited to see what happened next.

"Yes, Hawkins, if you really wanna know, Michael's a better fuck than you are; he knows more about women than you'll probably ever learn."

"So, you'd rather be with a guy who won't commit - "

"I'm not interested in a commitment that lasts beyond the sunrise; he understands that. I don't want pretty flowers, fancy dinners, or a bunch of promises about love and forever because it's all an illusion. He knows the rules and he sticks to them; he doesn't hang around hoping we'll have breakfast together while sharing the morning paper."

"And you're fine with that? Then how do you explain your relationship with Azrael - "

That was a mistake, Michael thought, shaking his head at the rookie's stupidity. Stone moved like lightening, her right hand reaching between the younger man's legs to grab his balls and twist them viciously. Christ, she was makin' his balls hurt! He winced sympathetically - not for Hawkins, because he had been stupid enough to say what he had said, but he knew how strong Stone's grip was and there was no way it wasn't gonna leave a painful reminder even after a couple of days.

After a moment of shocked silence in the wake of Azrael's name being spoken, business continued as usual and everyone went back to their own conversations with the exception of the three people at the pool table in the middle of the room.

Maria watched in surprise when Michael moved his right foot just enough that the top of his boot rested against Stone's ankle and a moment later the woman released her death grip on Hawkins' crotch. No one said a word to him as he snatched up his jacket and carefully walked out of the bar.

"Forget him," Michael snapped. He was expecting it when Stone turned around and kissed him again, and he let himself get caught up in it, fully aware of the woman watching him from across the room.

Well, the question of whether Michael and Stone had ever been lovers had definitely been answered, Maria thought bitterly.

"Everything okay?"

Maria looked up when Gabriel spoke beside her and she wondered how a man his size moved so quietly. "Yeah, I'm just gonna…" she motioned behind her. "Check and see if anyone needs anything."