Funnywiccan's Writing Corner

Welcome to my new sideblog, where I will post all my writing works, such as fanfictions, oneshots and prompts.

I will also transfer here all the existent pieces of the main blog, to give the stories a proper continuity, beginning with the chapters of my beloved “Le joyaux le plus precieux” <3

The publishing will follow this two rules: I will post a chapter a day yes and a day no, to don’t let too much time pass between the chapters, and one story at a time. 

WARNINGS!!!

Contains NSFW scenes and LGBTQ+ couples. Don’t like, don’t read. All the characters are over 18 years old.

Chapter VIII

Thanks a lot, Jesse. I owe you a huge favour.- -You're welcome, Frank. I'm always ready to help you.- Both carrying large boxes in their arms, the James brothers were intent on climbing the last flight of stairs of a luxury apartment building with a view of the Eiffel Tower. -Since I moved here to Paris permanently to teach, I've always hoped to come and live in a place like this.- He set the box down on the landing: -But for the lift to break down on moving day... it's a joke.- -Look on the bright side, Frank: so much exercise can only contribute to your diet.- -Funny.- He slipped the key in the door lock: -Ah, brainstorm: how's it going with your sugar dealer?- -You mean Billy?- -You've been seeing each other for a while now.- -It's going very well, and yes... we've been together for a month, and two weeks.- They crossed the threshold, where more boxes were stacked in a cluttered pyramid.

-Tell me the truth, have you already plucked the fruit from its tree?- -Pardon?- He placed the box at the foot of the pile. -Have you already consummated your relationship?- -Oh, Frank...- -I'm your brother, you can tell me.- -... not really. I won't go into details, but I'm waiting for him to be ready for the step.- -Oh, you're giving him the candy-coated treatment. That's very perceptive.- -What's that supposed to mean?- -You're slowly tasting what you can get before you savour the filling.- -... You are literarily disgusting. That's why I never tell you anything.- -Jesse, you should know that my duties as your brother include disgusting you.- With a box cutter he broke the tape of a box: -Now the fun part begins.-

-We are ready- announced Cheyenne to Billy. They both sat in front of her laptop computer in the kitchen at Luke and Joe's house (the latter of which was preparing popcorn), they stared at the paused screen of a video that the boy had asked to watch with them. -You sure you want to do this?- -Sure. I have to do it, to learn how to keep calm.- -If you start screaming like a little girl I'll kick you out- Dalton threatened him calmly. -I'm not at that level!- -Leave him alone, Joe; you have to consider who the protagonist is- Luke defended him. Standing in a circle in front of the computer, the four of them began to watch the hour-and-a-half long video: a Shakespearean play with Jesse in the cast.

-How come you started doing this "marathon" of works with our friend?- asked Cheyenne, munching on popcorn. -I was curious at first because of something Jesse told me, but after a while... Let's just say a problem presented itself.- -I don't think I want to know...- Joe inserted himself. -What were you curious about?- Luke added, ignoring his partner. -He told me he'd acted half-naked a few times, and I wanted to see when.- -... Oh.- -And that's the problem I was referring to... Here, pause it!-

Cheyenne obeyed, leaving the video still on the image of a shirtless Jesse taken just before he spoke his line. -What can I say, it doesn't leave room for much imagination, but it's nothing bad- commented the girl. -I know, but... it makes me jealous.-

All three looked at him surprised. That was not the "problem" they had thought of.

-I have to get it into my head that in his work he sometimes has to act like this, or else I'll risk making a scene! I know it, I know myself...- -Oh, well...- Cheyenne cleared her throat: -Think of this: the rest of the audience can watch but not touch; you, on the other hand, have the privilege!- -Yes... Yes, that's true.- -About that, it's time for an adult chat- Dalton continued. -What's that?- -You've been together for a while. How are things going?- -Why does it sound like an interrogation if you ask?- joked the girl. -Professional development, I guess.- -Everything's fine... and to be honest, the other day...- -Yes?- Billy blushed with a strange smile, fumbled in a pocket of his jeans and showed a small key in the palm of his hand: -This is his.- In a second everyone realised what it meant. A sigh of surprise escaped Luke. Cheyenne was speechless. Joe almost choked on his popcorn. All in the three seconds that preceded a choral: -Whaaaaat?!?-

Two days earlier...

At the foot of the Eiffel Tower Jesse was waiting impatiently for Billy. He needed to tell him something, and he was going to take advantage of that afternoon appointment to make him a proposal that was perhaps crazy and rash, but one that he felt came from the heart. And right at heart level, in a pocket of his coat, there was a small object, but one that carried all the weight of that idea.

Billy arrived with an angry expression that the actor had not expected: he watched him approach with heavy step, frowning and huffing. The only thing missing was a black cloud hanging over him. -Hey, Bi-!- The boy simply threw himself into his arms, sinking his face on his chest with a grumbling prolonged grunt. -Are you all right?- -... I hate the whole world...- -What happened? The shop?- -No...- He squeezed even tighter: -The house...- Jesse stroked his head: -Are you having trouble with the flat?- -Yes...- -Come on. I'll buy you a hot drink.-

Having found a cafeteria with tables outside, over a nice cup of chocolate one and coffee the other, Billy sighed and began to explain: -The main boiler broke down. And now we're all without heating. Not the best as winter is approaching.- -That's right.- -The worst thing is that the stingy landlord won't replace it. So we're in the cold! What should I do, spend a fortune on blankets?- Jesse began rummaging in his coat pocket: -My dear Billy, in your misfortune perhaps I can help you find a silver lining.- -Which one?- -Close your eyes and bring your hand closer.- The boy obeyed, so that Jesse could hand him the small metal object: -Now look.-

Billy blinked a couple of times and looked at the palm of his hand: there lay a shiny metal key, it was definitely new.

-What is it?- -The key to the place where I hope you will want to spend the winter and the future seasons.- Thinking about it for a second, the boy understood: -It is the key to your house...- -That's right.- He put his hands on the small table: -I had already intended to ask you if you wanted to come and live with me; since this emergency has arisen...- -You what??- -I know, it's unexpected and maybe a little premature.- -I-I can't accept, Jesse! I mean, it would be nice, but- Come on, you've seen how messy I am, you on the other hand are a neat guy; you'd go crazy!- -Maybe messy, but not so messy as to let, say, chickens run loose in a room.- Billy laughed. Taking his hands between his own, the actor continued: -Seriously, Billy: I would like to make this attempt with you.- The blond smiled at him, squeezing the key between their hands: -Will I sleep with you?- -Of course, if you wish.- -Sure! Um... I need to get some boxes, mostly for my clothes.- -Do you accept, then?- -Yes.- He stroked the back of his hand with his thumb. -Let's try it!-

Now...

Cheyenne applied a piece of tape to the box that contained some of Billy's belongings: -And this is done. Are the T-shirts settled?- -Already done.- Billy, meanwhile, was deciding what to leave and what to take with him of what remained in the flat. Not too hard to do, since there was very little of his own property, but he wanted to still make a choice. -That's great that Jesse made you such a proposition!- the girl enthused, -Think that to my cousin and Joe took forever just to get together, let alone moving in together!- -Seriously?- -Yes, but only because they had their own personal reasons for holding them back a bit.- -How do you know when it's the right time for certain steps?- -Hmm?- -I mean... It took them some time, whereas me and Jesse...- -You feel like you're moving too fast, don't you?- she added in a sympathetic tone. -Just a little bit.- -You know, not everyone falls in love in the same way. Love lightning strikes or a relationship that grows over time, summer crush that can last a day or a lifetime, we don't choose it. We can only see where it takes us.- Billy nodded: -So, even though we've only been together for a month and a half, do you think it's a good idea?- -If you have doubts, why did you say yes?- He smiled: -Because... He makes me feel good. I haven't felt this happy with someone for a long time.- -That's why you love him? Because it makes you happy to be with him?- -For other reasons too, but yes. Broadly speaking that's how it is.- Cheyenne looked at him tenderly: -And isn't that reason enough to remove any doubt?- The boy smiled even more: -Thank you.- -And for what? When it comes to love, you can always count on me!- She took the box to stack it with the others and then lifted her arms and stretched: -When are Jesse and Frank coming?- -In a little while.- -Have you decided what to take with you, besides the clothes and the bedclothes?- -The lamp. The TV isn't mine, and it doesn't work, so it stays. And I'll also take that bowl with the candy, I've grown fond of it.- -Great.- -Oh, I almost forgot!- From a drawer in the wardrobe, Billy took a low cardboard box canary yellow, and placed it on top of the others. -What is it?- -One of my most precious treasures. You see...- Someone knocked on the door. -Are they here yet?- Cheyenne looked at her watch: -Brothers on time!-

Opening the door of the sweet shop, Billy hurried to get ready to welcome customers. The whole morning had flown by in settling into Jesse's house, despite the few things in the boxes, and after a quick lunch he had to catch up. Not even five minutes had passed when an all too familiar female voice made him jolting: -Is that the time to arrive, #@?! lazybones??- Mrs Jane didn't sound angry, but one could never tell. -Ah... hello...- -You said you were moving, but you took the whole building and relocated it?- -It took a while.- -You did well with the handsome guy, though. Congratulations, kiddo.- -Thanks.- He hung the sign on the door indicating the shop was open. -And to think you were a ducky, as they say in America, the first time I saw you! And now think you've got your own business and some guy drooling over you in love!- -What a beast of envy, eh, miss?- teased Billy, but she laughed and gave him a breathtaking pat on his back: -Go to work, brat! I'm waiting for my biscuits!- With sore shoulder blades, the boy waved her goodbye and went down through the trapdoor into the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Jesse was at home studying a script that his new agent had brought him to consider whether or not to take the part. He liked that girl's method, after all she was a former student of Frank's. As he read the lines he walked through the house, and noticed a detail in the bedroom: a box had not been emptied, and on it was a lower, canary-yellow one. Intrigued, he walked over and stared at the box for a long time before lifting its lid. Inside was what looked like a photo album. "I shouldn't look at it... But I can't resist!" He lifted the dark red leather cover, and lingered on the first page with a picture of a woman with long, curly red hair, falling back in messy ringlets, blue eyes and freckled face, holding in her arms a child of about one year old, who looked very much like... Billy? Continuing to scroll through the next few pages, Jesse glanced at the boy's childhood, which as he had told him, had been spent near Provence. He watched with tenderness and amusement as little Billy frolicked in the lavender fields, rode his cycling, playing ball with other children and making messes in the kitchen. He stopped at one photo in particular: there was Billy, who must have been about ten years old, wearing a kitchen apron, his mother beside him and, in front of them, leaning over the table so that it could be seen clearly, a beautiful chocolate cake. It was too well made to be the work of a child, so Jesse assumed it was his mother's. They both looked very happy. Closing the album and putting the lid of the box back in place, the actor began to developing an idea, which led him to turn on the laptop on his desk and do some research.

The first thing that struck Billy, upon returning from work, as soon as he walked through the front door was the smell of pizza mixed with what seemed to be the smell of burning. Then, the lights kept low throughout the flat, even in the kitchen. -Jesse? I'm back.- He heard a clatter of clanging pots and pans, and from the doorway to the kitchen came out the actor: -Billy! Take a seat, dinner is on the table.- Taking off his shoes and leaving them in the doorway, the boy looked out into the room; in addition to the table set for two, with a couple of nice margherita pizzas served on large white ceramic plates, there was a strange mess in the cooking area: several splashes of what looked like something's dough were stuck on the wall tiles and the cooker top, and a few pots and pans, soiled with a dark, burnt substance, lay soaking in the sink. -We're celebrating tonight- announced Jesse, uncorking a bottle of pale ale and pouring its contents into glasses on the table, -I couldn't remember which way you prefer your pizza, so...- -That's fine- smiled Billy, sitting down in his seat.

Chatting about this and that, at the end of the meal Jesse wiped his mouth with his napkin and put on a cheerful expression: -I have something for you. And I hope it tastes better than it looks.- -What's that?- Getting up to go to the fridge, the dark-haired man pulled out what looked like a more than unmoulded chocolate cake: -I... baked this.- -You??- -Yes... Or at least I tried to. The last time I attempted to cook something more than a boiled egg I made a mess; it's a miracle the house didn't catch fire...- Wide-eyed, Billy had only caught part of the speech: -Did you make it...?- -Here...- He set the cake down on the table and went to find a couple of teaspoons: -I know I shouldn't have, but I took a look at your photo album.- -Ah... yeah. I forgot to put it away.- -I saw the cake you made with your mother, and... I wanted to surprise you.- He returned to his seat and extended a teaspoon towards Billy, who was moved and with a big ear-to-ear smile grabbed the cutlery: -Aw, daddy, you're the best!- Practically together, they took a small portion of the dessert to taste it, but as soon as they put the teaspoon in their mouths, they both assumed a disgusted expression, and swallowing the mouthful by coughing rather than spitting it out, they stuck to the glasses which still had some beer in them.

-That's awful!- exclaimed Jesse, catching his breath, -I'm sorry, that's absolutely disgusting!- To his surprise, Billy burst into a fat laugh: -Yeah, it's totally disgusting! It's all charred!- -Delicate.- -Oh no, sorry!- Taking the other man's hand in his, he added: -You saw the picture with me and my mother with the cake, right?- -That's right.- -And you thought she made it, I guessed?- -It wasn't?- -No, because it was the first cake made by yours truly?- -But how? It was perfect!- -She said so herself when she tasted it. Let me tell you a secret: she may have taught me how to how to cook, but she was always burning the cakes!- -You're making fun of me.- -No, no! She was good at everything else, but cakes and biscuits were always baked by my father; he passed the talent on to me!- Without letting go of his hand, he got up to sit on his lap: -I congratulate you, daddy: if your goal was to bake like my mother, you have hit the mark!-

Chuckling, the actor pulled him close: -My aim was to surprise you, actually!- -You succeeded, rest assured!- He gave him two or three kisses on the face and wrapped his arms around his neck: -That was a really nice thought. It doesn't matter if the taste is horrible.- -I promise I'll try harder next time. I'd better wash the pots now, though.- -They can wait until morning, I think.- -Uhm?- Giving him a soft kiss on the mouth, the boy continued in a low voice: -I still crave the dessert.- Jesse perceived no malice in that sentence, so he asked: -Would you like some biscuits?- Billy sulked in his funny way: -You don't get it! I want to go to the bedroom!- -Oh... Oh! How naive!- He took him in his arms like a bride: -I'll do it immediately.- -What are you doing? Put me down!- complained the blond, but did not insist further. They reached the room, however, as Jesse put him down on the mattress, Billy grabbed his torso and dragged him down with him: -I got you!- He laughed, despite the weight of the other on him. The actor pulled himself up on his arms: -I don't think so!- Sitting on top of him, he tried to tickle him, but Billy grabbed him by the wrists and stopped him: -Don't you dare!- Rolling over the mattress and unravelling the sheets and bedspread, laughing they continued the "fight" for a while until the boy managed to tackle the other by placing himself on top of him: -I told you so!- Jesse did not react, letting himself be held back, but smiled amused: -Really? Now that you've got me?- -Uh...- Billy sat astride his companion: -I thought it was clear.- Pulling himself up and grabbing him by the hips, the dark-haired man gave him a passionate kiss: -A crystal.- They looked at each other in complicity.

Placing his hands on the other's shoulders, Billy was ready to kiss him back. Since they had been together he had overcome his extreme shyness, though it had not entirely disappeared, thanks to what Jesse had, so to speak, taught him. So he did not protest when he felt his partner's hands slipping under his sweatshirt as the kiss took on passion, limiting himself to a slight murmur. And even when Jesse hinted at grabbing his buttocks from above his jeans to bring him closer, he said nothing, going along with it. Interrupting the kiss, the boy murmured: -Can I stay in this position?- -Of course... But if your legs fall asleep, you have to tell me.- -I don't think there will be such a danger tonight.-

A bell rang in Jesse's head: could it be...?

It was Billy who took off his sweatshirt, his cheekbones red and his expression a little uncertain but with a smile: -The good thing is that we just had dinner, so I'm at full strength...-

Another bell for the actor.

-So if... that is, if you want to do more than usual... It's not a problem...- Turning even more redder, the blond nevertheless tried not to lose confidence. -I don't have to be the only one who wants it, Billy- replied the other in a sympathetic tone, -you have to want it too...- However long he had been waiting for that moment, he would never have jumped on him like an animal. -I want it, but... Be honest: does it hurt?- Biting his lower lip, Jesse circled around it a bit: -It depends... A partner has to be good at it, but being the first time I'm afraid it won't be entirely painless...- -Mh. Yes, I thought so. He wrapped his arms around his torso: -But I want to at least try.- -Maybe there's a way to make it easier. Look in my nightstand drawer.- Without abandoning his position, Billy reached to his left and executed, grabbing first a comb and then a long transparent plastic bottle with a purple liquid inside, with the name of a popular brand on the label. -What is it, lubricant?- -Yes. Just leave it on the piano.- -When the time comes, though, can I stay like this? I don't know why, but I like this position.- -As you wish!- He ran a hand through his hair: -I understand the language of your kisses, and you understand the language of mine. Henry IV, act three, scene one.-

Without a word, Billy pulled him close again and kissed him on the neck, a little awkwardly, then huffed and pulled away again. He lifted the other's long-sleeved blue shirt and undressed him calmly, before hugging him again, bringing their skin into contact. Then he smiled: -Much better!- Jesse had willingly let him, but took control of the situation by starting to kiss the young man's neck, who tightened the embrace even more in an involuntary reflex, hiding his face against the other's shoulder. In addition to the kisses, the actor then began to tease him with small bites, which he had discovered he liked very much.

That time, however, Billy felt something different: a slight pressure at the base of his neck, near his own shoulder, and a little pain that made him exclaim a sudden "Hey!" -Excuse me. Too much pressure?- asked Jesse in a velvety voice, that voice capable of sending hot shivers down the spine of the the boy: -A little bit...- -I'll see if I can make it up to you.- He moved down with his hands to stimulate the other's sensitive areas, and in response Billy began to do so as well. Exchanging yet another kiss, the younger man then realised that his companion was struggling to restrain his eagerness. With his breathing becoming more and more laboured, Billy interrupted their contact asking softly: -Is everything all right... daddy?- -What do you mean?- -It almost seems like... Are you holding back?- -I... Yes, I am.- -Why?- -Because I want you so bad.- -Huh?!? If you want me what are you holding back for? I don't understand!- He was right to be confused, and the actor knew it. So he exhaled and tried to answer, but the other stopped him with a firm stimulation on his nipples, so that he let out a hoarse sigh. -I want you too, dummy, so cut it out!- Puffing out his cheeks, Billy gave him a peck on the lips: -Got it?-

Jesse did not respond, but reciprocated with a less chaste and decidedly smothering kiss, returning to moderately stimulating his companion's body, who gasped harder as the touch became bold. -I feel something against my abdomen...- whispered the dark-haired man with veiled malice, -Do you want me to take off your jeans?- -Yes... daddy...- He should not have called him that and in that irresistible tone. Without much ceremony he unbuttoned his trousers, unzipped them and lowered them down to his knees. It was Billy who slipped them off leaving them at the side of the bed. Jesse placed his forefingers in the elastic of his pants, but did not pull them down, and continued in a warm voice: -Do you want me to take care of you first or would you rather try it together?- -The second...- -Then I need the lubricant.- Only then did he pull off the last garment, exposing the other man's erection: - Will you help me undress? I can't with you on.- -Of course.- With more difficulty because of the position, Billy began to take off the rest of the other's clothes, and the actor was no help as he kept giving him kisses on his neck and sternum. -I can't see, wait...- He finally succeeded in the task; left both bare Jesse continued: -Take the bottle, and pour some of the contents here, on my hand.- -You look like an instruction booklet- the blond joked, executing. When he opened the cork he smelled a strong floral scent, which intensified when he poured the lubricant. Rubbing his fingers together, Jesse brought his hand behind his companion: -It will be a little uncomfortable at first.- He let his middle finger slip between the young man's buttocks, who gasped at the intrusion but held back, emitting only a stifled moan.

Slowly, so that he could get used to it, the actor began to move back and forth. He frowned slightly: it was really tight. He hesitated for a few minutes before also inserting his index finger, noting that he had to prepare the boy, who was shivering, very well. The latter, who could not articulate a word, took the initiative, and pouring himself a dose of lubricant on his hand began to massage his companion's erect organ, who emitted a low moan from his throat, almost a counter-chant to the other's higher ones. Suddenly Billy emitted a higher moan, and Jesse realised he had found the right spot to insist. Since his companion with his unexpected and welcome manoeuvres was making him reach his limit, he stopped him: -I think it's time...- -Ok...- Lying down on the mattress, Jesse grabbed the other by the hips so that he was well positioned: -Are you ready?- Red up to his ears and eyes shining with excitement, Billy nodded. The dark-haired man allowed himself a moment to look at him, panting and sweating above him, before continuing.

When he felt him enter, Billy put his clean hand over his mouth so as not to scream. It had gone slow, but he had felt some pain, so much so that a small tear escaped from the corner of his eye. -I'm sorry... Are you all right?- asked Jesse, expectantly, having restrained his voice for the friction. Certain that the pain was gone, Billy murmured: -Yeah... It was just a moment...- -So shall we go on?- -What do you say?- Taking it as an affirmative answer, Jesse slowly began to thrust, calmly. The blond began to moan and pant again, and soon forgot about the unpleasant moment just before, because something more pleasant had replaced it. Not bothering to hold back his voice any longer, he began to comply with the thrusts of the other, who had also begun to caress him there underneath with his much more experienced touch. Jesse tried not to go too fast, because the friction in that tight channel was driving him crazy. A slightly harder thrust reached that spot that had earlier made the young man cry out, and consequently drew another sharp moan from him followed by a hesitant: -There... Right there...- The last of the brakes removed, they both increased their pace, the bed slats squeaking from the movement. Looking into his partner's eyes, Jesse thought he saw a light in them, but perhaps it was an effect of the over-excitement that had dampened them. With one last thrust of his pelvis he came into the body of the other, who, feeling himself being filled in this way and struck more intensely at that point within himself he in turn reached orgasm. Catching his breath, he then let out the relaxed organ of his companion and lay on top of him, the belly of both of them sticky with his semen and lube. -I love you so much...- whispered the blond in the other's ear, who responded by caressing his back: -I I love you too...-

WARNINGS!!!

Contains NSFW scenes and LGBTQ+ couples. Don’t like, don’t read. All the characters are over 18 years old.

Chapter VII

The season was now turning to more erratic temperatures and shorter and shorter days. It rained at least once a day, in the afternoon, and the Seine had risen about ten centimetres. With his umbrella slung over his arm, Jesse was strolling around the city serenely. For four days in a row he had been busy with the show, and had not been able to see Billy after the morning after the opening night, keeping in touch with messages and phone calls. Finally the performance period had ended, and that morning going to the candy shop had been his first thought.

He opened the door, ringing the bell; Billy from behind the counter immediately ran up to him to hug him: -Jesse!- -Hello, Billy... But!?- -What?- The actor was horrified: on the younger man's right cheekbone stood out a purplish bruise, quite recent. -They beat you up?!?- -Oh, this! A madwoman attacked me; I'll explain while I wrap these.- He was preparing packages of mixed jellies on the counter, and as he filled the boxes and closed them he said: -You know these women who are overprotective of their children?- -Yes. - -That's it, I was selling candy in the park as usual, and just because I took the liberty of giving a licorice wheel to a kid, this lady started yelling at me. When I tried to reason with her, she punched me. There was a policeman standing nearby, who dragged all three of us into the police station, and luckily Joe was on duty and took care of it.- -Thankfully.- -This is the second time I've had unfounded accusations. I begin to suspect that I have a bad face that doesn't inspire confidence!- -Oh, no, I can assure you that your face has nothing to do with it. Some people are unfortunately paranoid.- -According to paranoia, Joe seems to have gotten over it; he's not mad at me anymore.- -That's a win.- -I think he realised that I'm not a "monster".- He closed the last packet: -Hey, I have something for you.- -For me?- Billy grabbed him by the scarf and pulled him to himself, forcing the actor to rest his hands on the counter to keep his balance, and popped a peck on his mouth and then smiled cheerfully: -A little bit of sugar to start the day!- Jesse smiled tenderly: -I will treasure it.- -I've missed you these four days... Ah, now that I think about it: how did it go at the theatre? I know you guys had a blast!- -Yes, it was--

A sound of breaking glass interrupted the speech. The boy jerked, blanching, and Jesse turned sharply: the shop window was shattered, with a large hole in the middle of a web of cracks; on the ground was a fist-sized rock. -Who dared??- The dark-haired man rushed out the door, but despite the sparse presence of passers-by he saw no one suspicious. -Damn it!!!- Billy came out in turn, shocked: -Look at this!!! It's a good thing I hadn't exposed anything yet, or the glass would have gone into my candy bowls!!!- -This act of vandalism cannot go unpunished, I'm calling Joe!-

-Are you sure you didn't touch that stone?- detective Dalton asked. -Absolutely; I watch crime stories from time to time, and I know there may be prints on it...- mumbled Billy, arms folded. One gloved officer located the stone, while another took photos and notes. -Do you want to make a complaint?- -Oh, indeed! That's at least three hundred euros of damage; I really can't afford it now!- -Well. We'll do our checks; you in the meantime... pick up the pieces. I'll call you when we have something.- -Certainly.- Jesse put his hands on the boy's shoulders in a gesture of comfort, then turned to Joe: -I heard about the aggression. Could it be the same... lunatic who hit him?- -I don't know. These nutters are a thorn in my side, especially during demonstrations, you know, traditional family and all that... but vandalising a shop is something new. I wouldn't exclude it, though.- -I'll go get a broom...- Billy sighed a bit dejectedly, heading into the backroom. -Hey, Jesse.- In a low voice, Dalton motioned the other to come closer: -You stay with the boy. He seems pretty down to me.- -Obviously. This shop is his whole life. To see it reduced like this is a very hard blow.- -Yeah. It's sad to think there are still people capable of that nowadays. We'll go, and see what comes out of it.- The actor nodded and watched the officers leave, then went in search of Billy, intent on rummaging in a closet cursing at an unobtainable box for collecting glass.

-Do you need help?- -I was sure it was here!- Jesse moved the door: -It's back here.- -Ah...- The blond grabbed the object and went straight to sweeping the shards off the floor and the display shelf. -Billy... If you want, I can pay for your new glass window.- -Huh?- -You said yourself that you can't afford such an expense right now. I can call a glazier and get an estimate.- -You don't have to.- -But I want to.- He approached him, being careful where he stepped: -You've worked so hard to get this business up. I'm sorry they did such a bad thing to you; no one can dare to make you sad!- He realised he had said the last part of the sentence with a little too much emphasis, and blushed, tightening his lips. Billy looked at him with wide, slightly glazed eyes. The dark-haired man strutted, trying to appear confident: -Please. I would like to help put your shop into shape.- -Uh... All right, daddy, whatever you say...- He handed him the broom: -You can start by helping me clean up this mess.-

The glazier would not arrive until the following day, so Billy closed everything and taped a note on the shutter, "Closed for renovation". Jesse thought it would be a good idea to take him for a ride in an attempt to distract him at least a little, so he asked the boy what he wanted to do. -Remember we were supposed to go to the cinema?- -Yes, but it's too early.- -Then tonight. Um...- He pondered for a minute before exclaiming: -Hey!- But immediately lost his enthusiasm: -Oh, no, wait...- -What is it?- -I was planning to go to my favourite arcade, but it's closed today. And apart from the cinema, I can't think of anywhere else to hang out.- -What about your place?- -In the middle of another mess?- -We can clean up your flat together, too, if you'd like.- -You enjoy tidying up!- -Why not? You have to admit that it needs it, but you work so hard that you don't have time for houseworks.- -To be honest, it's laziness that makes things pile up, but other than that... yes, I lack time too.- -So take advantage of my help today.- -Don't you have theatre rehearsals or something?- -No. I'm all yours!- These last words also came out awkwardly in Jesse's ear, but Billy merely smiled: -Then it's all right!-

The actor's mobile phone rang a couple of times. When he checked, he saw that it was a call from call from his theatrical agent, Karl. -Ah, I have to take this...- -Go ahead, I'll finish blocking everything in the meantime!- Jesse took a few steps away and accepted the call: -Hello?- -JJ, my beloved client, how are you? It's been a long time!- -Yes, it's been months now.- He swallowed the mispronunciation of his name with a slight sigh. -Ready to get back from your holiday? I have a couple of killer contracts just for you!- -Actually, I'm a little busy.- -Doing what? Independent theatre comedies? I read the reviews, and you got some nice results, don't get me wrong, but you need to get back to the big leagues, you know? Six months is a long time!- -I intend to come back, but at the right time.- -Ah, one more thing. Your brother was evasive on the subject, but I did some digging and found out that you're in a new relationship.- -Did you call Frank?- He automatically turned to Billy. -Yeah. Look, I don't know if you're going through an early midlife crisis or what, but you better nip this in the bud. Jesse's blood froze in his veins. -What?- -I'm telling you this as a responsible agent; it's about maintaining your image. Come on, he looks like a kid with that face! Do you want the public to think you're a pervert? Your fans adore you, in spite of your "ambiguity", but you'll lose them if the story starts circulating that you're sleeping with someone so young!- -Karl, he's 20 years old...- -He doesn't look it, from what I see.- Trying not to lose his cool, Jesse in a hiss asked again: -How do you know what he looks like?- -One of your colleagues posted some pictures of your "little party after the premiere" on Instagram, and I noticed him there, in the background. I put two and two together. Take it from me, ditch the brat and get back to the big theatre; I've got some stuff in my hand that will take you on a national tour this time!- -Karl?- -Tell me.- -You're fired.- He suddenly ended the call and rejoined Billy, who was checking the last lock: -What a face! Everything okay?- -Yes. It was a work call.- -Bad news?- -Just someone who can't mind their own business, and claims to dictate after months of silence.- -... Jesse, be honest. You seem very angry.- -My agent. He talks nonsense and pokes his nose into my personal life. But I made things very clear.- -Private life?- He held his breath. -Oh, no, did I do something to get you into trouble?- -No. I'll tell you all about it later.- He offered him his arm like a knight: -Shall we go?-

-Where do I put these shirts?- -Have you checked them yet?- -They are clean and folded.- -Then they go in the back of the wardrobe.- It hadn't taken long, considering the size of the flat, to tidy up and throw the rubbish, but the clean T-shirts were indistinguishable from those that were dirty or put on for just one day, so much so that they were in such a jumble. A good half hour went by just for the sorting. -Now will you tell me what happened with your agent?- asked Billy at one point, placing himself cross-legged on the bed still to be made up, looking at Jesse kneeling near the wardrobe. -Ex-agent. I fired him.- -Why?- -You see, I've known him for four years, but other than getting me good contracts he's never been very respectful towards me; he has only ever thought about profits and has repeatedly offended my sexual orientation calling it “ambiguous”.- -Yeah, I don't think that's a very nice term to use.- -It doesn't take a degree to realise that the correct term is bisexual.- -You're bi-what?!? I thought that apart from a couple of women, you only like boys!- The actor looked at him puzzled: -Who told you that?- -Uh... Luke. But only because I needed some advice from an adult.- -Ah. Anyway, Karl, my ex-agent, went too far trying to meddle in my life before, trying to control me. This time he was more insensitive, disrespectful and unpleasant than usual.- -And... did I have something to do with it?- There was no point in lying, so Jesse inhaled deeply through his nose and wiped that toad off: -He claimed that dating someone who looked like a minor would ruin my image. But I told him to go to hell.- -Your... image?- -If I were a film or television actor I might also worry, but I am a modest shadow of the theatre who, however well known, cannot cause much scandal or attract gossip.- -But...- -No "buts". That miserly heart wanted me to leave you to go on a national tour. Even if he'd offered me some prestigious assignment, I wouldn't have said yes.- -Seriously?- -Not even if the Queen of England herself had invited me to perform.-

Big tears began to run down the boy's cheeks, and he tried to wipe them away with the the back of his arm: -Here, see what you're making me do!? I'm whining like a baby! And my bruise hurts...- -Do you need a handkerchief?- The blond stretched out his arms i his direction: -I need a hug!!- He puffed out his cheeks into that funny hamster expression, which Jesse could not resist; he drew close to him and let himself squeeze. Billy's face pressed against his abdomen, and he began to gently caress his head. With his voice muffled by the fabric, the boy mumbled: -I found another thing I like about you.- -What?- Looking from down at him, his cheeks flushed, the blond replied: -You make me feel important.- -Huh?- -I always had the impression that nobody gave a damn about me, since my parents died. But to hear you talk... Well... I didn't think anyone would consider me the way you do.- Standing wide-eyed in astonishment for a moment, processing what the other had just told him, Jesse changed his expression into a sweet smile; he leaned down to the height of the other's face and continued: -Of course you're important to me, Billy.- -... It's nice to hear you say that...- Jesse took his hands in a gentle gesture, not responding but giving him a small kiss on the back of one of them, making Billy chuckle.

Again the ringtone of Jesse's mobile phone managed to interrupt them. The actor became suddenly serious and checked: on the screen was the name of his agent. -Karl.- -What more does he want?- -An avalanche of insults and epithets, evidently.- He did not accept the call and put aside the device on the bed: -Let Frank deal with that vile snake. We are busy here.- Karl, meanwhile, seeing himself thus rejected, called Frank himself, and without giving him even the time to answer, he said: -Your crazy brother fired me!- -What did you expect? I warned you not to try to-- -But after four years I expected a little consideration!- -Keep your voice down and listen to me: leave him alone.- -But...- -He is not like your other clients whom you can easily manipulate. I repeat: leave him alone, or I swear I'll come down to your office and shove every single pencil in your pencil box down your throat. Clear?- Frank's icy calm disconcerted Karl: -Yes, of course.- He threw down the phone call, and the other exhaled: -What a pain in the ass...-

-What do you mean, "we sold out of tickets"??- exclaimed Billy to the girl at the cinema counter. -That's right. The printer is broken, and today's tickets are already sold out. I'm sorry- she concluded. -That's not possible!- The blond man stamped his foot on the floor, really annoyed: -Why is it that every time we want to go to the cinema there's something going on?- -Adversity is to be considered coincidence until it happens too often.- Quietly, Jesse led him out: -We'll try again.- -What now?- -May I propose to buy an ice cream?- Immediately the other's face lit up: -Yes!- Heading down the street that bordered the cinema, Billy took the actor by the hand with a somewhat hesitant movement, turning red. Jesse noticed this, and intertwined his fingers with those of the other, continuing to observe his surroundings with a smirk. Pleased, the boy looked at him smiling: -Hey, what were you saying about coincidences?- -That if something happens all too often, it should not be considered a coincidence.- -As in, "the universe is trying to tell me something"?- -Let's say yes.- -So the universe is telling us not to go to the cinema... -Shall we try an ice rink?- -They won't open for another month.- -I know, but it's an idea.- Reaching a nearby ice-cream place, the dark-haired man bought a coffee cup, while Billy chose the most curious flavour in the assortment, pomegranate, served in a large cone. -It's like eating grenadine!- -What is it?- -You don't know? I marvel at you! It is a pomegranate syrup that is used to make cocktails and grenadines; I'm crazy about it!- To underline the statement, he jumped on the ice cream, then stopped: -Oh, sorry, would you like a taste?- -No, thank you. Wait, though.- With the paper towel he had procured, he wiped the corner of his mouth, and the boy laughed: -I won't run away this time, I swear!- Jesse chuckled as well. The girl at the counter sighed: -Oh, how cute you are! An adorable couple!- The actor turned red, and (more) so did the blond. -How many times have I told you not to comment on the customers!- yelled a man who looks like the master, but she was ready to reply: -It's not my fault I'm a romantic, Francis!- The two continued to argue even after Billy and Jesse had walked away, embarrassed.

Then the boy murmured: -Are we a couple?- -Hm?- -I mean... I thought to be a couple we had to swear eternal love or whatever. . But that girl said we're a couple.- -Of course we are.- -Huh?!?- The calm tone of that statement was what surprised the young man most. -Going out together and sharing personal and even... intimate moments is the basis of any relationship. Of course, romance should not be overlooked.- He breathed in, as if caught by a sudden inspiration, and began to declaim: -Do you love me? I know well that thou wilt say "yes", and I will accept thy word; but if thou swear'st, thou mayst perjure thyself: to lovers' perjury, Jupiter sayeth laugh. Romeo and Juliet, act two, scene two.- -Wow... It's been a while since you said a quote...- -Making promises of love is only part of being a couple. Shared experiences and mutual support, in my opinion, are a more substantial percentage of it.- -Like when you offered to help me with the shop?- -Yes.- With a happy expression, Billy took him by the arm, almost knocking over the bowl of ice cream, and exclaimed: -Aw, so sweet, daddy!- Blushing, Jesse said nothing, too busy keeping his balance after the sudden tug.

Billy invited the actor to stay the night. Jesse was pleased, but he noticed something strange in the other's expression, like a kind of nervousness, or as if he wanted to tell him something but couldn't find the way. While the boy was looking for something for him to put on, he began to undress with his back to him, and he heard him grumble: -I can't find the shirt I gave you last time.- -I put it in the laundry today.- -Ah, that's it.- He turned around the instant Jesse was taking off his jumper, and stood paralysed to looking at him for a moment before blushing violently and exclaiming: -Man!!!- -What?- -Warn me before you undress!- -Oh. Maybe I don't care anymore; I have played many roles at least shirtless, in front of everyone's eyes. I didn't want to embarass you.- -... is it possible to act nude in the theatre?- -Sometimes, if it's in the script.- -Wow. One always learns something.- He couldn't take his eyes off the other's body, who noticed and sneered: -What's the matter?- -No, it's just that...- Billy swallowed and began to nag at the hem of his shirt: -I need to ask you something. It's more of a request than anything else.- -Yes?- -It's not that... Would you teach me... How to do it?- -What?- -The... Touching, that is. Like that, like you did that night.-

Jesse was astonished.

-You see, it's just... I didn't do anything last time, clumsy as I am. And you seemed a bit... I don't know; what I'm trying to say is that I'd like to be able to participate a bit more!- He was so purple that the freckles seemed to disappear from his face. -Haven't you ever tried?- -Well, puberty comes for everyone, but no; let's just say that unlike others I didn't consider it a priority... -sturbing myself...- The last word had been muttered, but Jesse understood perfectly well. -But I don't want to learn for me!- the young man quickly recovered, -I mean, not just for me. I want learn to... how do you say... satisfy you too!- -Me?- Nodding vigorously, he clasped tightly the now utterly wrinkled shirt in his hands: -When you were talking about intimate and personal moments, wasn't that what you were referring to?- -Yes, but...- Jumping on the bed, Billy didn't let him continue: -So, if we're a couple, don't I have to figure out what to do with you and for you?- He got down on his knees on the mattress and leaned towards Jesse propping his hands on his legs: -Am I wrong, daddy?-

The thing that was getting Jesse's heart rate up most of all was the total absence of malice in all that talk. Shyness, sure, but not malice. He had the impression that the boy had just asked him to teach him how to drive, or anything other than what actually had been said by a Billy who was staring at him wide-eyed, expectantly. -All right. But we have to proceed step by step; will you listen to me?- With a big grin, the blond exulted: -All right, daddy!- -Well, I'd say... that we can start by getting under the covers. Never mind wearing pajamas, in this case, but keep your underwear on.- -Ok!- Sitting down on the other side of the bed, Billy began to undress in turn. Jesse's mobile phone rang for an incoming message, and when he checked it was from Frank. It said, "I grilled Karl. You can look for a new agent now. Say hi to Billy, I know you're with him." It followed the emoticon of a wink. The dark-haired man smiled: he knew he could count on his brother for certain annoyances.

-Hey, Jesse!- Billy called to him from under the covers: -Put out the big light please! I turned on the one on the bedside table. Uh, floor actually.- -You didn't have to hide like that!- joked the actor, who complied with the request and then joining him by sitting on the mattress, legs slightly up. -What are you doing?- -Come and sit on my lap, so we can start.- Swallowing nervously, the blond shyly complied: -Is that alright?- -Perfect.- He took his face in his hands: -The easy part starts now, with a kiss...- The low tone in which he uttered this sentence sent a warm thrill through Billy, who stood when Jesse kissed him, a tender contact that went on for a while until he felt the tip of the other's tongue brushing his lips to enter. Indulging him, the blond in turn took his companion's face in his hands and let the kiss deepen, although he was quite uncertain what to do. He then let his hands slide onto Jesse's shoulders, leaving them resting there. The other interrupted the kiss, slowly, to continue the conversation: -Do you remember the kisses I gave you on your neck?- -Yes...- -Try giving them to me.- He tilted his head slightly to the right: -It's not difficult. It's as if you kiss me normally, only in a different spot.- -I have to... How?- -As you wish. I'll tell you a secret: the left side of the body is more sensitive, because it's the side of the heart, so it has more nerve endings. Don't be afraid to make a mistake.-

Following the suggestion and trying to remember what Jesse had done, Billy began giving him shy kisses in the area between his neck and shoulder. He could taste the other's skin, which encouraged him to also use his tongue a little. Despite such uncertainty, he felt the dark-haired man trembling and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it: -Nice, you're doing well...- This prompted the boy to dare, and he gave a little bite on his companion's shoulder. Unfortunately it took too much strength, and Jesse let out an "ouch" with a little jerk, which was enough to alarm the boy: -I'm sorry, I didn't do it on purpose!- -It's nothing.- He took his chin between his thumb and forefinger: -It means I'll have a mark from you for a while. I appreciate the enthusiasm.- That velvet voice sent poor Billy, that shivering and turning as red as a tomato did not reply. -Let's continue. Where did I kiss you after the neck?- -You went further down.- -Come on, then.- Inhaling to try to recover at least a little, the blond objected: -But... what if I bite you one more time?- -Relax, there's an alternative. He placed his hands on either side of his torso. With the fingertips of his thumbs he began to tease the other's nipples with circular movements, who let out a little cry. Trembling at that stimulation, Billy tried to repeat the manoeuvre on the actor, always with some uncertainty; when he became familiar with these gestures, however, he managed to extract a sigh from Jesse, who arched his back slightly: -That's it, don't hesitate...- They exchanged another kiss, much more passionate than before, they both continued to caress each other like that; Billy moved his own pelvis closer to Jesse's almost automatically, feeling an increasingly cumbersome obstacle. His hands slipped a little everywhere because of the damp skin where they rested.

Propping his knees up on the mattress, the blond lifted himself up a little to overpower the actor, causing him to look upwards without breaking the kiss. Jesse grabbed him by the hips to keep him as close as possible, while the boy began to run his hands over his head and to the sides of his face, increasingly sure of what he was doing, his hair sticking up on his neck. To himself the dark-haired man was quite happy with that initiative. Billy interrupted the kiss to catch some air, but he did not move farther away from the face of the other: -J-Jesse...- -Yes?- -I think... I think I'm ready to continue...- -Very well.- He made him sit back on his own legs, leaving them slightly open so that the other man's would be too: -Then, again... Do as I do.- He slipped a hand into his boxers, beginning to caress what he found underneath them slowly. Stifling an exclamation, Billy replicated the other's gesture more slowly, then grimaced: -It's strange... To the touch...- Feeling himself being touched like that, Jesse also sighed deeply: -I know... But don't think about it... You'll see that it will be better later...- He resumed his caresses, and after a few seconds the other one too, who was panting conspicuously, and mumbled: -But I don't want it in... my mouth...- Giggling softly, Jesse replied: -It's not necessary...Don't worry...-

They both quickly found the same rhythm. They resumed the kiss where they had left off, but the shortness of breath due to panting made it difficult for them to stay in contact for long. -Is it normal... for it to be so slippery?- asked Billy at one point. -Yes... It means you're doing well...- He accelerated, cowardly, tearing an excited cry from the young man, who nevertheless succeeded in doing the same with his own hand, and the actor let out a low-sounding moan. The latter then, licking his lips, increased the rhythm; so did the blond. In a rough voice, Jesse said one last time: -Together, now, if you can...- He moved his pelvis as much as possible to comply with his companion, who responded in the same way without further hesitation. -Jesse...!- The first to yield was Billy, followed after a second by the other in a climax almost in unison. Leaning his head on the black-haired man's shoulder, Billy recovered his breath, slipping his hand out of the other's boxers. He felt his fingers sticky and wet, and he had the same feeling in his own underwear. He was fine, not only because he did not feel faint, but because there, in the other man's arms, he felt a strange and new mixture of emotions, so much so that he exhaled without thinking: -I love you...- Those two words reached Jesse's ear as sweet as honey but as strong as a cannonball, and for a moment his still over-excited heart missed a beat.

Not receiving an answer, Billy pulled himself together: -Hey, are you there?- The actor was looking at him with his dark eyes wide open, in an expression between surprise and almost uncontrollable emotion. -... Jesse?- The latter clasped the blond man to himself and kissed him tenderly, and then whispered again with that low tone: -Ah, my dear Billy... This love is mutual, you can believe me...- -D-Do you??- -Yes. And woe to anyone who dares come between us. The danger is more in your eyes than in twenty of their swords: if you look on me gently, I shall be strong against their hatred.- Billy exclaimed: -Romeo and Juliet! Act two, scene two!- Jesse was taken aback. -I did my homeworks while you were gone, see?- the boy chuckled with a huge grin, snuggling into the arms of the other, who began to caress his head and cheeks until they fell asleep.

WARNINGS!!!

Contains NSFW scenes and LGBTQ+ couples. Don’t like, don’t read. All the characters are over 18 years old.

Chapter VI

Billy had never entered the Moulin Rouge, he barely knew where it was. Once through the main entrance he immediately looked for Luke, whom he spotted sitting at a table talking with Detective Dalton. It appeared to be a quiet conversation, and the two were holding hands. He breathed in and stepped forward: -Good morning...- -Hey!- Luke smiled at him, while Joe apostrophised him with a neutral: -What are you doing here, boy?- -I need to talk to Luke...- -Me?- -It's... It's about Jesse... It's about both of us, actually, though...- The former thief motioned him to take a seat, while Joe found an excuse to leave them alone: -I'm going to get a glass of water. The boy then added: -I didn't know who to ask...- -Are you all right? You seem agitated.- -Two days ago, I kissed Jesse.- -What?- -It wasn't a great kiss, but it was on the mouth...- -Did he say anything to you?- -No, he wanted to but I had to run off to work. I was happy; the only other kiss I ever got was from a girl and I didn't like it.- -And what's bothering you now?- -Of having misunderstood his kindness and interest. I didn't answer his messages, which were few, really, because he is busy at the theatre, but he says he wants to talk to me, and I am terrified.-

Luke smiled; young people in love were just too tender. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs: -So what did you want to ask me?- -If you know... well... If Jesse is...- -He is, but I'm not completely sure.- -What do you mean?- -I'll be brief: I'm not a fan of gossip like some of my colleagues here, but I do know a couple of things about Jesse's private life that are in the public domain, and among them who he has had relationships. I know for a fact that he has dated a couple of women in the past, but he has been seen more often in the the company of men.- -I understand...- -The only way to be sure is to ask him.- -I can't just go over there and ask him if he's gay!- -What about you? Are you?- -I don't know... But I like boys more than girls.- -That's something. Can I see the messages he sent you?- -Yes.- He handed him his mobile once he spotted the conversation. Luke carefully studied the text and gave his response: -It doesn't have a serious "we need to talk" tone, rather "I need to talk'.- -Is there a difference?- -Much. In these two days he has sent you seven messages, but he hasn't shown up or phoned you. That means he doesn't want to put pressure on you. Nevertheless it's something important, that's why he insisted on writing to you.- He handed the phone back to him: -Answer him, I am at least eighty per cent sure that he must tell you something good.- -I'll call him, that's quicker... I'll be right back. Uh, the bathroom?- -Over there.-

When Billy was far away, Dalton returned to his seat: -You do well with kids.- -He's twenty years old, Joe. But it's obviously his first time.- -Good times.- -You sound like my grandfather.- -How dare you?- They both laughed. In the bathroom, the boy hesitated for a moment before starting the call. After two or three rings Jesse answered cheerfully: -Good morning!- -Hello... Uh... Everything okay?- -Yes, thank you. And you?- -Well, good. Sorry about the radio silence, I just...- -No problem. I've been busy too, otherwise I would've called you.- -I know you have something to tell me. When can we meet?- -Unfortunately, rehearsals keep me very busy. But if you'd like, I could reserve a seat for you, so you can watch the show and then maybe we can talk.- -Perfect! Which theatre is it?- -I'll text you the address and time.- -Can't wait!- -Me too.- There was a moment of silence, interrupted by a distant voice, then it was the actor who concluded the conversation: -I have to go back on stage. See you soon.- -Yes, bye.- Billy returned to the hall, and Luke asked him how it had gone. -He said: see you at the theatre...- At that moment, a text message reached him: -That's it. He's at the Sebastien, this Saturday at eight.- -I know it, it's a very elegant place- Cheyenne intervened as she left the dressing room area, -You'll have to wear a suit and tie, at the very least.- -And fix that hair!- Madame Louise cheerfully inserted herself, coming up behind Joe, -You're not going to introduce me to your friend?- -Billy, ma'am, nice to meet you.- -Sweetheart, from what I understand this is a matter of the heart, am I correct?- -Uh... yes.- -Then you have to make a good impression with whoever you're meeting; come here at six o'clock on Saturday and I'll give you a makeover!- -But I don't...- -Trust me, Madame takes care of all our costumes, she has great taste! -Luke said, -I'm sure you'll be surprised.- -Well... Okay, why not?-

The Sebastien was a three hundred and fifty-seat theatre just outside the centre of Paris. People had already been in line to buy tickets for at least an hour. -There really is a big crowd...- commented Joe, sitting in the car on the passenger side. -In theatre circles Jesse is really famous; fans would never miss one of his performances- Luke added, behind the wheel, and then turned to Billy, who was sitting comfortably in the back seat: -Ready?- -I think so... Thank you for coming with me and driving me...- -Get it into your head that you owe us a favour, kiddo- Dalton replied dryly before getting out. -What's wrong with him?- -He doesn't like that we changed our plans for tonight. We were supposed to go to dinner.- -I'm sorry.- -He'll get over it. I know how to handle his dynamite temper.- He opened the door, but Billy kept talking: -You two seem like quite a pair, you know? You're so patient and he's... well, let's say grumpy.- The other chuckled, but did not reply, getting out of the car and opening the door for the blond.

Jesse, waiting at the entrance, was very surprised to see Luke and Joe: -Good evening! Glad to have you here.- -Jesse!- Dalton shook his hand: -Guess who we brought you?- -Uhm?- He looked past the two, and was stunned: Billy stood there, wringing his hands, in a handsome dark blue suit with a white shirt and tie. He was perfectly shaved, and his hair had been combed backwards with several layers of gel to keep it in order. Smiling uncertainly, the boy asked: -What do you think?- The actor walked up to him and took him by the hands: -Should I compare you to a summer's day? You are far more radiant and mild.- -Sonet eighteen- mumbled Luke. Joe looked at him questioningly. -What? I know Shakespeare, too.- -Let's go buy a ticket, that's better.- Billy smiled: -So you like it!- -Absolutely!- Without letting go of his hands, he looked at his wristwatch: -There is still some time. Come with me backstage, so we can talk.- -Ok.-

Passing through the back door, together they reached Jesse's dressing room. It was the only quiet place in that chaotic corridor where technicians, actors and a few extras were bustling about making their final preparations. The dark-haired man closed the door, and Billy took a quick look around: it was a small room kept in scrupulous order, with the stage costume neatly pressed and ready to wear on a headless mannequin positioned in a corner. A small dressing table with a mirror, lit by a row of yellow bulbs, stood against the front wall, and a cot filled with square cushions served as a sofa. It was on this that they took a seat. The boy was a little tense, while Jesse seemed serene.

-I must ask you at least two questions first- the latter began. -I'm listening.- -Remember two days ago, when we said goodbye?- -Uhm... Of course.- Billy blushed a little on his cheekbones. -You gave me a kiss and ran away. It's recurring, your running away from me.- -It was more of a kiss on the fly, and yes, I admit I'm always in a hurry...- He began to feel uncomfortable about the direction the conversation was taking. -And remember, I was trying to tell you something?- He settled better on the bunk, which squeaked. -Yes...?- -Well... I've had two days to think of the best way to tell you how... what I feel.- -And?- Jesse looked at him with what seemed like tenderness to the boy: -I know we haven't known each other long, but... The truth is, I really like you, Billy. I really do. Meeting you for the first time in the park was like a breath of fresh air.- Turning practically crimson, Billy couldn't help but ask: -Why do you like me??- -For various reasons. You're sassy and witty, strong, and much smarter than you let on.- -Huh... A nice list...- -In addition, when you get angry...- He pointed a forefinger at the other's cheek: -... you have a lovely expression.- By now the blond felt close to bursting, as did his heart. In an almost hysterical tone, he stammered a reply: -A-And I-I like you too!!! So much!- The other's gaze lit up: -Really?- -Yes! I don't kiss just anybody, daddy!- The actor grabbed him with his fingers from under his chin, squeezing his cheeks a bit: -You insist with this nickname?- He didn't seem angry. -I saved you like that on my mobile phone!- Jesse smiled awkwardly, and without adding anything else, he planted a kiss on the other man's lips, firm but gentle. Close to a heart attack, Billy remained motionless, paralysed despite shaking from head to toe. The actor left his face alone to take it with both hands in a tender gesture.

Someone at that moment knocked on the door: -Fifteen minutes, Mr James!- The kiss was interrupted; Jesse was forced to reply: -Yes, I'm coming. I'm getting ready.- The poor boy seemed to have smoke coming out of his ears as he was so red. -Pardon me, Billy, but I'm afraid you have to go. I'll be right on stage.- -Ah... I see...- He was slowly coming back in touch with reality. He saw the other get up and go towards the dressing table, then hand him a small rectangular piece of paper: -Your ticket. I have arranged for the best seat for you. So tonight I'll know where to find you among the audience.- He placed the object in his hands, and Billy returned it with a more than happy smile. -Go now. I have to put on my costume.- -Ok!- He made to leave, but stopped by the door. -Jesse?- -Yes?- The blond threw himself at him and pulled him into a tight hug, then with an even bigger smile than before, accentuated by the funny protruding incisors, he greeted him one last time: -Go and rock, Jesse!- He ran out of the dressing room, leaving Jesse speechless again but with an equally big smile on his face.

-That was fun! - Joe commented as he exited the theatre. -Yeah, the scriptwriter was witty with his jokes.- Luke held his hand, while Billy was busier looking for Jesse in the direction of the actors' exit, which was unfortunately packed with autograph hunters. -What are your intentions, kid?- the detective asked. -Huh?- -Should we take you home or not?- -First I have to...- Finally he saw the actor leave the theatre, but immediately the fans were upon him. It was then Billy noticed something strange: next to Jesse was a man who looked very much like him, with a neatly trimmed moustache and a beige coat. He was trying to hold back the crowd and give the actor some breathing space.

Jesse began to look around, once he had signed the last notebook, and smiled towards Billy waving his hand. The blond approached, exclaiming: -You did great! I swear, I was bent in two with laughter!- -The best review I could hope for!- The other man commented: -Ah, so that's him Billy.- He held out his hand to the boy. -Frank James, I'm Jesse's brother and his part-time bodyguard.- -Oh! Pleased to meet you!- Frank got a good look at him during the handshake: -Now I see who the mysterious "sugar" was who was sending messages to my brother.- -Mysterious what??- Billy looked at Jesse, who tried to act indifferent, and Luke and Joe, spectators unconsidered, tried hard not to laugh. -We're having a little refreshment at Jesse's house, to celebrate the success of the premiere- Frank continued, -would you like to join us?- -Uhm...- He looked at his two companions, like a little boy who would like to ask permission from his parents. -Your friends can also join us, if you want.- -Unfortunately, we already have plans- Joe hastened to say, -but you go ahead, and have fun!- He dragged away Luke, who waved to the boy, then turned to his companion: -Someone tonight will be luckier than me, for once!- -Are you kidding? You're unbeatable when it comes to luck.- -Sure. I met you.- Dalton froze for a moment: -If you keep this up, we won't get home, but I'll stop the car in a secluded spot.- -I don't mind. The back seat is comfortable.- -Stop it!- Pretending he hadn't heard them, Frank announced that he was going to get the car. Left alone, Billy smirked: -Sugar, huh?- -... I saved you like that on my mobile phone.-

Jesse's house was not a mansion as many believed, including Billy, but a large flat in a residential area on the third floor of a modern building. The interior was strongly reminiscent much like an English house, as everything was furnished in dark wood and the style was rather Victorian. A large oak bookcase dominated everything in the spacious living room, where guests could choose to sit on a large brown leather sofa or one of three matching armchairs. The parquet floor was polished, looking as if it had been recently laid, and the furniture was laid on carpets to prevent holes in the wood. A short corridor led to two other rooms, while an archway without door led to the kitchen, where there was a square wooden table as an eating surface, with two chairs.

Billy had taken refuge in a corner to look out of the window, which overlooked the street lit by the street lamps. He had chatted for a while with Jesse and Frank, and discovered that the latter was a literature teacher at the university. Unlike his brother he did not like the spotlight, but the classics of the nineteenth century, a subject in which all his students got excellent grades, or at least to hear him tell it. After a while, however, the other guests (members of the cast and staff) had monopolised Jesse, and the boy, not knowing how to behave or approach the group, had isolated himself. Someone had uncorked a bottle of champagne at some point, or perhaps two or three, the fact is that within an hour many had left because they had drunk too much.

-It's midnight- announced Frank. His voice roused Billy from his isolation, so he noticed he was left with the two brothers and a brunette girl who could barely stand up. -I'll take Marguerite home; see you soon Jesse.- -Thanks again for coming, Frank.- -I would never miss the premiere of one of your shows! Good night, and bye Billy!- The blond man greeted him shyly. When Frank and the girl had left, Billy realised he was left alone with Jesse, and his heart jumped. He was not naive enough not to know what might happen. Calling himself stupid, he went back to looking out the window.

-A bit of a breather at last! joked the actor, -Sorry I ignored you a bit, but being a host is demanding.- -No problem.- Jesse looked at him, puzzled. He approached him at a slow pace: -Are you all right?- -Great!- No, he wasn't. He was nervous, he didn't know what to do and his heartbeat was getting out of control. But the latter missed a beat when he felt two arms wrap around him at waist height, gently. of his waist, gently. -If I've offended you in any way, I'm sorry.- Jesse laid his head on his: -That was not my intention.- With salivation suddenly reduced to zero, Billy tried to reply: -You... you're always afraid of offending me... But it's not that...- -But there's something wrong, isn't there?- -Uh...- He turned slightly towards the other: -It's that... I didn't think... to stay here.- -What do you mean?- -That it's getting late...- He swallowed. -You've never stayed at someone's house, have you?- -Yeah.- -Let's put it this way, then: it's a way of returning the hospitality you've shown me. Don't feel uncomfortable.- -Well, if you say so...- He banished the bad thoughts he had been having and smiled. -Go ahead and take a shower. You can't sleep with all that sticky gel on your head.- -Eh. Okay.- -I'll find you some pajamas.- He rubbed his nose against his cheek and let him go. Billy then thought of something else: -Wait! Where do I sleep?!?-

He was not used to all that "luxury". The shower had been one of the most pleasant in quite a while, and the pajamas Jesse had lent him, pastel blue, were of the softest cotton, perhaps a little big, but comfortable. The only thing that left Billy with a little more agitation was the fact that he had to sleep in the same bed as the actor. And what a bed! A double, with cream-coloured sheets and a nice autumn duvet soft to the touch on top. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, the boy was visibly uncomfortable, but he didn't understand why either since he had already slept with Jesse. Perhaps it was because that environment was unfamiliar to him. He threw himself backwards with a sigh, and it felt like he was sinking into a cloud.

"Man... I have a feeling tonight won't be so quiet..." He felt butterflies in his stomach. At that point he didn't know if it was agitation or anticipation. -Forgive the wait.- Jesse entered the room wearing a grey T-shirt and black boxer shorts. Billy decided to strike up a conversation to take the tension away: -You know, I was wondering... Have you travelled the world?- -Why the question?- The blond man pinned himself up on his elbows, lying on his stomach: -It's just that I had a look at the bookcase. There are many titles in foreign languages.- -I've actually been everywhere, and in every country I've bought at least one volume.- -Do you speak all those languages??- -Oh, no. They are editions of works I already know. Mine is pure collecting.- -Mm. Everyone has his own, I guess.- He threw himself back down and started staring at the ceiling, hands clasped on his stomach. -It's very late. Get into bed.- -I'm comfortable here.- He spread his arms and chuckled: -I can't believe you have so much space just for you!- -It's not that big.- He turned off the biggest light, and only a couple of very low bedroom lights remained to brighten the room. -Are you kidding? It's a palace! It makes my house look like a garbage dump.- -That's why you isolated yourself tonight. You were uncomfortable. I should've seen it sooner.- -Huh?- He sat back down, nudging himself. Jesse seemed down.

-Hey, is everything okay?- -You asked me what I liked about you before. I'd like to ask you the same question, reflected back at me though.- -What?- -Please.- -Of you? Well... You are kind. And you're one of the few people I consider really intelligent.- He smiled, lowering his gaze: -And you seem to be able to really understand me. More generally, I also like just the idea of being with you.- -Are you serious?- -Of course!- He widened his smile, cheerful. The actor did not reply, but smiled, reassured by the other's words. At a slow pace, he approached the bed and slipped under the duvet: -Come on. Time for bed.- Billy didn't let himself say it twice, and reached him only to lie down on top of him: -I'll use you again as a pillow, then!-

Jesse blushed. He was glued to him, belly to belly, his legs encircling his own. The boy's smile slowly faded: -Hey, daddy.- -Yes?- -What I feel against my thigh... That's not what I think it is, is it?- -I swear it's an involuntary reflex. Now let's go to sleep and you'll see that I'll get over it.- -Are you saying this because of that thing about you being a gentleman?- -Of course! I would never dare to do anything you don't want to!- -What if... I wanted to do something?- -Do what?- -Yes, well, after all, I see no harm in it; but I warn you, I have never done anything with anyone, I!- He said it quickly, as if he wanted to get it off his chest. -Billy...- He stared at him, a little embarrassed, but even more embarrassed seemed the blond who, looking away, had just made that intimate confession to him. He smiled tenderly, and placed the back of his fingers on his cheek: -If that is the case, then don't be afraid. I will respect the directions you will give me.- -Here, frankly, I don't know what I want either... Shall we start and see how it turns out?- Jesse didn't hold back, and reversed their positions: -All right. Let's find out how far we can go.- He first gave him a soft kiss on the lips, which trembled at the contact, then he tried to insinuate his tongue, in no hurry. The boy responded almost immediately, bringing his hands to his shoulders and pushing him towards himself, clumsily attempting to move his tongue in turn, only to let himself be led by the other who took command of the kiss that had become more languid. Jesse interrupted after a while only to look at Billy's expression: his blue eyes were glazed over, in the semi-darkness he could still see his red cheeks, and a trickle of saliva had escaped and stopped at the corner of his mouth; his breathing was already laboured. Seeing that he was not protesting, again with the palm of his hand he touched his face, while with the fingertip of his thumb caressed his lower lip, warm to the touch. At that moment he felt a movement, below, that did not belong to him.

-But how, you're already so excited?- -I told you I never did anything, not that I am dead!- the blond man frowned, -It's your fault, daddy!- -If one passionate kiss is enough to turn you on like that...- He slipped his hands under his pyjama top: -... I wonder what will happen now.- -What are you going to do??- Running his open hands over him, Jesse felt him shiver, and a sigh escaped Billy as he reached his chest. Lifting his shirt up to below his chin, the actor uncovered the boy's torso, who with the heaviest breath exclaimed: -Wait!- He sat up and pulled off his shirt completely: -It was bothering me.- Without answering, Jesse slowly pulled off the grey shirt and shed it in turn. Billy flushed: what he saw was even better than he had imagined in the last... How much time had passed since they’re started? The dark-haired man approached him again, a slightly mischievous smile on his face: -Good idea, so we will be more comfortable.-

Sweating from nervousness and emotion, almost in a trance Billy let himself be kissed again in that suffocating but pleasant way. Jesse then let him go only to come down and kiss his neck, while a hand went into the blond's hair, which trembled at these new contacts. The kisses became more and more intense and decisive, so much so that Jesse at one point allowed himself to a little nibble at a spot he had found most tender, and the boy let out a little cry that he could not stop amid sighs. The other then went down on his sternum, returning to distribute softer kisses, and then changed direction and went to brush his lips over his right nipple. The other cried out at that unexpected and pleasant touch, and instinctively put a hand on Jesse's head, who took it as an invitation to continue, which was immediately accepted: he began to give light tongue strokes and brief suctions in the area; not only that, he cowardly began to work with his thumb on the left side as well, and what he at first perceived as stifled cries from Billy soon turned into disconnected moans.

-Take it easy, daddy, I'm about to explode!- the younger man managed to say in a tone irresistible to the ears of the other, who interrupted himself: -Is something wrong?- -I mean...- Red as a traffic light, he looked down, sitting up, and Jesse got down on his knees on the mattress, the other man's legs encircling him: from under the fabric of his blue trousers he could see an unmistakable bulge. The dark-haired man did not flinch, and smiled smugly: -No problem. I'll take care of you now.- He slipped off the last of the other’s clothes and looked at the result of his work.

-But let's not go all the way, okay?- said Billy, almost pleadingly, -I-I don't think I can do it. - 

-Don't worry, I know what I'm doing.- He brushed his fingers over the other one's erect organ to see his reaction, which was to let out another little cry and throw himself down again, plugging his mouth with his hands. Determined to drive him a little more crazy, Jesse continued with a slow massage, which he then automatically decided to apply to himself as well by slipping a hand into his boxers. Since he had promised the boy that he would only do what he asked, he told himself that he could be content. Confident that the massage had had the right effect, he let go of the organ only to bend down further and start working it with his mouth. Turning even redder, Billy's breath caught at that manoeuvre, which caused him to arch his back with a jerk and a louder groan. Jesse had expected it, and prevented him from shoving it down his throat, then continued with almost exasperating calm, until he positioned his head at just the right angle so as not to choking, beginning to move back and forth, without neglecting to use his tongue, and holding the other by the hips with his hands. Shaking like a leaf, now on the edge, Billy groaned uncontrollably, his legs spreading with every further movement he felt down below. The actor, meanwhile, had not stopped touching himself in turn, and he could feel the boxers damp with his sweat clinging to him. He accelerated his manoeuvres for both of them, and Billy could hold on no longer: with a thrust of his pelvis, he came without bothering to hold back his voice. Jesse was ready to swallow as much as he could as he in turn climaxed by wetting his boxers completely.

Catching his breath after the adrenalin rush, Billy felt his strength waning, a feeling he knew all too well, and warned the other: -I-I don't feel...- -Are you all right?- -Yes... and no... I feel... I'm going to faint...- -Didn't you eat anything?- -Just a packet... of peanuts... at the theatre...- He could hardly speak and couldn't keep his eyes open. Jesse lay down beside him: -Come here... Relax...- Clutching him tightly, the blond collapsed for good, hard to say whether from falling or sleeping. The actor stroked his hair, which smelled of his shampoo, and cuddling him fell asleep shortly afterwards in turn.

Chapter V

-One two three, one two three... Come on, girls, rhythm!- Madame Louise urged her dancers to properly dance the new choreography, while Luke strummed on the piano and Cheyenne helped Amélie with her homework at a table in the hall of the Moulin Rouge. The little girl herself, at one point, exclaimed: -Ah, mommy! Do you remember my friend Billy, the boy who sells candy?- -Yes, I remember, my darling. Why?- -Later, shall we go to his shop? I know where it is!- She waved the business card under the nose of her mother. -The sooner you finish maths, the sooner we'll go, okay?- -Can I come too? I'd like to buy some chocolates for Joe- Luke inserted himself. -What is this, cousin, some kind of a month-iversary?- -I don't need an excuse to give my man a little present.- -Good point!- chirped Madame.

Mixing the ingredients of the toffee on a special machine, Billy went back and forth like a worker bee, humming a tune with his mouth closed. He didn't understand why, but he he had woken up very well that Monday. The door bell rang, and a little girl's voice called to him from upstairs: -Billy! Where are you?- Looking out of the trapdoor, the boy answered: -Who's looking for me?- Amélie went behind the counter and smiled: -Hello!- -Hey! What's up?- Cheyenne and Luke reached the little girl; Billy recognised the latter: -Hello!- He stepped out of the trapdoor and immediately looked around: -There's no Detective Dalton, is there?- -Oh no, don't worry; he's at the station at the moment.- -That's just as well; that man terrifies me...- He turned to the girl: -And she's your mother?- -Cheyenne Strokes- she introduced herself, -And we're here to get our fill of sweets; it's not only Amelie who has a sweet tooth, I confess!-

At that moment a short ringing alerted the boy that he had received a message on his mobile phone: -Ah, sorry, I always forget to put it on silent lately...- He checked the sender, taking the device from his jacket pocket. It was Jesse. Looking over the blond man's shoulder, Luke interjected: -Oh, so it's true!- -What?- -A certain Miss Jane told Joe that you had started dating Jesse James, or so he thought from the description she gave him.- Billy tilted his head in puzzlement: -We're not "dating", we're just hanging out together, and it just happened this Saturday.- -Billy has a boyfriend!- exclaimed Amélie all happy, placing some candies on the counter. -He's not my boyfriend!- huffed the boy blushing and crossing his arms, -We're... almost friends, that is.- -Well, answer him, it's not nice to keep friends waiting- said Cheyenne, -Me and Amélie meanwhile let's decide how to fill the shopping bag!- -And I'm looking for some dark chocolates with lemon for Joe, they're his favourite- Luke added. -Gift box?- -Would be nice.- -That top shelf. Get as many as you want and bring them to the counter, it'll take me five minutes to wrap them up.- Meanwhile, he opened the message: "Good morning to you, how are you today? I was planning to go to the cinema this Wednesday, and I would love it if you wanted to join me." This was followed by a smiley face. "He wrote me a poem!" chuckled Billy, typing back, "Morning, daddy! All good, and you? I'm in, just tell me at what time!" -Daddy?- Cheyenne, like her cousin, had taken to peering at the mobile phone screen. -Hey! That's private stuff!- On the other end, the actor winced slightly after reading the message: still that nickname. -Jesse, let's start with the rehearsal- a colleague called him, who moved a couple of chairs to prepare the scene. -One second.- He sent his reply and grabbed his script.

The weather proved to be decidedly unreliable that Wednesday. Clear weather was forecast for the whole week, but that very day it had been raining since lunchtime, and it didn't even seem to slow down. Without losing heart, however, Jesse had managed to arrive at the cinema that evening sheltered by a large black umbrella; he walked through the front door and looked around, but of Billy no trace. "How strange... Yet I'm right on time."

His mobile phone rang; when he saw the name on the screen he immediately answered: -Billy!- -Hey, Jesse, um... Look, I'm sorry, but... Are you at the cinema already?- -Yeah, but where are you?- -I had a little accident and I'm stuck. I don't know if I can get there in time.- -Accident? Are you okay?- -Yeah, it's nothing, just... Don't ask me how, but my umbrella broke, and I'm stuck under a porch.- -Wait there, I'll come to you.- -But no, it's pouring; I'll manage by myself...- -Tell me the exact spot.- He got out and opened the umbrella again. -Somewhere halfway to my house from the cinema...- The traffic on the street was very slow, and the pavements crowded despite the hour and the weather, so that Jesse had to jostle several times for space. He continued talking to the boy on the phone: -Are you in some alley?- -Yes, but I told you I'll manage...- -Don't move; I think... I see you!- Billy was actually standing under a small porch, soaked from head to toe and clutched in his arms. -Goodness; did you fall in a puddle?- -No...- The blond man sulked: -I told you, the umbrella broke...- He pointed with a nod of his head at the object abandoned in the corner. It was overturned, old and worn, and some of the sticks had broken. -We have to find a place for you to dry off, or you'll get sick.... That’s it, I'll take you home.- -And the cinema?- -It will be for another time.- He held out his hand and smiled: -Let's go. The umbrella is big enough for both of us.- Billy hesitated for a moment, but finally took the other's hand and joined him in the shelter. -We’ll be more comfortable like this.- The actor took him by the arm and pulled him close. The boy blushed, looking away, too cold, however, to say anything. -Get ready, there will be a fight to reach your residence.- -Okay...-

Returning to the main street, the two had to face the crowds going against the current until they reached the apartment building in three times as much time as when the path was clear. -Thanks, daddy.- Letting him go, the boy ran to open the door. -Can I come upstairs to dry my clothes, too?- That statement paralysed Billy: -No!- -No?- -I will not let you into my house! Who do you take me for?- The truth was that he didn't want Jesse to see all his mess, but he threw in a plausible but weak excuse: -Besides you're less wet than I am; you can go back to your place without any problems!- -Really?- With an indecipherable smile, the actor took a few steps to the right, where a broken gutter was making the rain flow with a roar, and leaving aside his umbrella Jesse with one last stride stepped right under the stream of water. Billy stood still and watched what the other was up to until he saw him make that senseless gesture, ran to grab him by the arm and pull him out from under the spout: -What the hell are you doing?!?- -I have weighed your words. Now I am so soaked with water that I am in danger of falling ill before be able to return to my house. Am I then worthy to climb into your nest now?- -Subtle bugger...- He let him go: -Okay, okay, you win. Come.-

Beyond the doorway stood a worn grey marble staircase with an iron railing with peeling white paint here and there. The footsteps of the two echoed with a noise like that of a sponge being wrung out. -Shall we take the lift?- Jesse asked. -It's broken. I'm on the first floor anyway.- The metal cabin actually had pinned a sheet of paper on the closed doors that had a faded inscription in French; it was hard to tell how long it had been there, but Jesse was sure the word in red marker was "out of order". Rummaging through his pockets, Billy reached for the keys to the door of the third flat on the floor: -Hey, for the record... I never get visitors. There's some stuff scattered around...- -All right.-

The boy slowly opened the door and switched on the light. Jesse took a general look: the flat consisted of one large room with a plain white door that he assumed led to the bathroom. A one and a half bed rested with its headboard against the ochre-yellow wall. There was no kitchen, and the only other visible furniture was a small white wooden cupboard and a small table of the same material with a surface filled with pizza boxes, fast-food paper cups and other packaging. An antiquated dark grey cubic TV set was abandoned in one corner, and here and there many clothes lay dishevelled, both on the floor and elsewhere.

-Well, there's my den...- mumbled Billy. -I'll be honest: it looks a lot like a dressing room at the end of a show; the chaos is at the same level.- The actor took off his scarf and coat: -I'd say I find it cozy.- -Ah... Well...- Inside, the blond felt relieved; he feared the other would be disgusted. A rumble of thunder resounded in the flat, and the light flickered for a few seconds before resetting. -When it rains the light comes and goes, I'm used to it by now- Billy hastened to explain, frantically gathering up some clothes, -Go to the bathroom, I'll... I'm looking for something for you that at least doesn't tight.- -All right.- Behind the white door was a bathroom with a floor of yellowish, cracked tiles in many places, covering the surface up to half of the walls. A narrow tub surmounted by a curtainless pipe made it a little difficult to reach the washbasin, while the toilet was given much more space. There were no hanging mirrors, only one of those round ones mounted on a revolving base revolving base resting in the corner of the basin. All in all it was a clean place; one could see that Billy cared. The latter knocked on the door: -I found you some stuff, I hope it's fine.- He opened the door a little and held out his clothes: -It's a T-shirt and sweatpants that have always been loose on me...- -They'll be more than fine, thank you.- -And some towels. I have to buy a new hairdryer, it's broken.-

Picking up the bundle of clothing, Jesse thanked him again before Billy suddenly closed the door. Unrolling the T-shirt, the actor froze for a moment: apart from the colour, an embarrassing candy pink, there was a print of an adorable Japanese-style hamburger with the words in "Eat me" underneath in  English. Paired with the bright red cotton trousers, then, it could be called just what his costume designer called a "fashion disaster". "Oh, well... Nobody has to see me, after all." He removed the wet clothes, spreading them out neatly on the missing curtain tube, ran a towel over himself and his hair and changed, however hesitant about the shirt, which turned out to be a little short in relation to his torso, so that his navel remained in view. He pulled his trousers up as far as he could to compensate, but the elastic did not hold. He sighed and returned to the main room: Billy had his back to him; he had changed into a red shirt and a pair of olive-green track trousers, and was intent on munching something as he drying his hair. The empty food packets on the coffee table had mysteriously disappeared. -Are you hungry, daddy? I have some chips and popcorn left, as well as water; I must decide to do some some groceries...- -I have no appetite at the moment, and we've had enough water I'd say.- The boy chuckled, then turned to look at him and was stunned. -Uhm... Any problems?- The answer was an uncontrollable laugh.

Snuggled up on the sofa at Cheyenne's house, the storm raging outside, Joe and Luke were watching an adventure movie, enjoying the chocolates the former thief had bought from Billy. -I have to admit, the brat makes really good sweets!- said Dalton at one point. -Amélie almost had candy indigestion!- replied the landlady from the kitchen. answered the hostess from the kitchen. -He seems like a nice guy after all, Joe. Did you really lock him up all night?- -Yes... Maybe it was too much.- -I've seen you do worse.- -It was a time of great stress.- -And why?- The detective sneered: -I was chasing an elusive criminal.- Luke returned the expression: -Oh, so it's my fault you went after the poor guy.- Joe pulled himself up, coming face to face with his partner: -I was kind of taking my anger out on everyone, actually.- -I remember...- They exchanged a soft kiss; at that moment Cheyenne appeared from the kitchen, holding a bowl full of vegetables, and turning to the two of them, she commented both amused and touched: -Should I go eat my salad with the neighbours, so I'll leave you two alone?-

Since the TV was not working, Billy and Jesse played cards late into the night, munching on chips, each sitting at one end of the bed. The boy was angry: he hadn't won a hand since the beginning of the game, when the actor showed he had more points with his cards, winning another round, Billy became exasperated: -That's not fair! How do you do it?!?- A rumble of thunder underlined his outburst. -I don't know. I've always been told that I'm quite talented with cards; if I hadn't chosen a career as an actor I could have tread the boards as a magician.- -By the way: earlier, some papers with strange, hand-written phrases fell from your coat. They looked like lines. I left them to dry in that corner over there because the heating pipe runs there.- -Oh, yes. Thank you, those are actually notes for the next performance.- -What are you doing?- -A play, an original work by an up-and-coming young director. It's called "Wedding Parade".- -Curious.- -It takes place during the wedding reception of the main characters. With all the family members reunited, unresolved conflicts and old quarrels resurface.- -That sounds nice! What do you do?- -The father of the bride.- -I'd love to see you act, Jesse!- -Rehearsal's open, you can...- -No, I mean now. Would you like to?- -Uh... Okay. Just a second, I haven't quite memorised the lines yet.- He went to pick up the papers, still damp with rain, and tried to put them back in order. Billy, throwing the playing cards in the air, threw himself on his stomach on the bed, resting his elbows on the mattress and his face on his hands, looking at the actor. -Can I start with the monologue that opens the play?- -Go ahead, daddy!-

Clearing his throat, holding the page in one hand, Jesse started to recite a few words, but he froze and pulled the paper closer to his face, narrowing his eyes. -Are you okay?- -The text was slurred...- -How is that possible?- Billy stapled on his arms. -I usually use a stylographic pen to write notes. I'm afraid water and ink don't go very well together.- -And now?- -It's not serious. Every word is taken directly from the script; I won't have to do anything but copy them again.- He put the paper down on the low table. -Well... What about your dear Shakespeare? You know it by heart!- -Are you sure?- -Of course!- -Good. Any particular request?- -Nah, do as you wish.-

-Uhm...- Jesse put his fingertips together at mouth level, assuming a concentrated expression. After a few seconds, he began to recite: -"Oh, she teaches the torches how to shine. She seems to hang on the face of the night like a rich gem on the ear of an Ethiopian. But it is beauty of an immense value that none shall ever have, too precious for earth. Like a white dove in a long row of crows seems the maiden among her companions".-

Billy gradually widened his eyes, more and more enraptured by the other’s voice and interpretation.

-"I want to see her after this dance; how happy I would be if my rough hand brushed hers. Did my heart ever love before? Deny it, eyes: before this night I have never seen beauty.”- When the actor returned to look at the boy, he was pleasantly surprised at his enchanted expression: -Romeo and Juliet, act one, scene five. Well?- -Wow... Mind-blowing stuff...- -I'll take that as a compliment.-

A louder thunder rattled the window panes, followed by a flash of lightning, and interrupted the magic, quick as a mouse Billy hid under the covers of his bed in fright. Even Jesse jumped up: -A nasty storm, no doubt about it...- -I hate bad weather...- replied the other from his hiding place, -It's too messy and I can't sleep.- -Are you afraid?- -No. I told you, I'm a light sleeper.- He peeped out from under the covers: -It's a real nuisance.- -How do you usually get over it?- -I don't get over it. I just don't sleep.- -But... How do you do for work?- -Lots of coffee.- -You know that's unhealthy, right?- -I can take care of myself.- The light flickered conspicuously, but he managed to resist the new rumble of thunder that forced Billy to hide again. -Are you sure you are not afraid?- -Yes!!!- From the blond's hysterical tone, however, Jesse guessed that he was lying. So he walked over and went to sit on the bed: -Do you want me to... stay next to you until sleep prevails?- -Don't talk rubbish. I haven't shared a bed with anyone since I was two.- -How do you know?- -I just know.- He curled up, pulling the covers over him. -But of course you can stay.- -I should point out, however, that this is the only bed available, and that the two of us can't fit, unless I go down there with you in a more comfortable position.- Billy stuck his head out again, frowning: -What you tryin' for?- -I mean to sleep.- -...- The boy pulled back one flap of the blankets: -As long as you don't put your hand on my bottom, okay.- -I'm a gentleman, I wouldn't dare.- Jesse pulled up his legs and stepped in, extending a hand towards the other: -For tonight I'll be the pillow for your head.-

Turning red in the face for the umpteenth time, Billy looked at him evidently agitated. After an interminable handful of seconds, he decided to lie down in his turn, his head resting on the chest of the other, and clung on with one arm so as not to fall down even though the actor was holding him close. He prayed that the other did not feel how his heart was dancing the samba in his chest. -Billy?- -Uhm? -Maybe this isn't the right time, but... Remember when you mentioned you'd had some problems in the past?- -What do you mean?- -About your family.- The blond hid his face in the fabric of his shirt: -Why do you want to know?- -Because you looked so sad talking about it. And even when it comes to affection more generally you become gloomy or evasive all of a sudden; I'd just like to understand why.- -...I only ask you one thing.- -Of course.- -Don't look at me with pity. I hate that. Everyone I've ever met who knew always did it.- -Promise.-

Inhaling deeply, the boy began: -My parents and I lived in the east of Provence. I lost my father when I was about six years old, and for another two my mother did the impossible to raise me alone. We were very close. It was from her that I learnt to cook. Then one day my stepfather came along; he was smart and kind-hearted, he always treated me as if I were his own son. When I was fourteen, I lost them both in an accident. When I was left alone, I was put in the care of social services, and for four I went from one family to another, from one school to another... When I turned eighteen and graduated, I decided to come here to Paris to set up a business and support myself. That's how I met Madame Jane. She took me on as a helper and allowed me to stay there in the shop when I had not yet found a flat. I got down to business and earned enough in a short time to buy the cart. And the rest... here it is.- Jesse stood in religious silence listening. After a while Billy raised his head and saw him with a thoughtful expression on his face; he was probably processing the information. "Here comes pity, I can feel it..." -I can't even imagine the amount of courage and willpower you had to gather to face such adversity. Those who looked at you pityingly didn't understand anything.- -What?- -They were not dealing with a fragile lamb, but with a lion ready to fight.- He smiled turned to the other: -That's admirable. Anyone in your place would have chosen the wrong path. Be proud of you.- Billy's eyes grew moist. No one had ever said anything like that to him. Jesse saw the boy's sky-blue irises becoming more and more blurry as the tears increased. Billy threw himself down on the actor's chest with deep uncontrolled sobs, and the other merely sympathetically lay a hand on his head.

Chapter IV

Joe Dalton was calmly reviewing a report with a fellow policewoman when suddenly a guy was slammed forcefully onto the latter's desk, knocking over the pen holder and a pile of papers. -This is the third time this piece of #@! of dog has peed in the alley next to my tea room, I bring him to you and you release him! Either lock him in a cage forever or I'll make him stop with a sharp knife!- Joe sat the unfortunate man down on the floor, whom he noticed was tied up with a white laundry cord: -Always pacific, eh, Jane?- -Pacific your sister, Detective; this pig's lucky we're in France and not in America, or I  would have hung him on a hook and beaten him like a carpet before handing him over to you!- -Hey, Patel, take him away. As for you, my dear, try to calm down a little, though it shouldn't be me to say it: you are no longer a bounty hunter; you retired to open a tea-room precisely because you got sick and tired of running around all the time, didn't you?- -Yes. That's why I defend my territory tooth and nail. Easy, since I was used to follow tougher guys. Dealing with idiots like that is like tying my shoes for me.- Dalton chuckled.

-Ah, Detective, do me a favour while I'm here: leave Billy alone, will ya? The kid is fine.- -It's nothing personal... It's just that since Amélie's been around, you know... The mother hen in me sees danger everywhere.- -Billy has no interest in such things. He's seeing someone, you know?- -Really?- -Tall, good-looking, with a beard. I have no idea who he is, but the guy seems happy, so stop bother him, all right? See ya.- Joe watched her walk away and thought back to the description. Could it be that she was referring to who he thought was?

He could not remember the last time he had a date. In fact, he didn't feel like he'd ever had one in twenty years, except with the occasional doctor. Swinging himself onto his feet, waiting, Billy looked insistently at his secondhand wristwatch. It was close to the appointed time, but he had arrived a little early in the bustling Place de la Concorde. After days of refusing, he had finally given in to Jesse's invitation to go out that Saturday; he had sheltered behind the excuse of having to work, but after all he could skip a day on which he had to cart around anyway and not be in the shop, or at least according to the actor's logic. For the occasion he had shaved and put on a clean shirt, but his hair had refused to cooperate with the brush, so the forest on his head had not been tamed.

Visibly agitated, he began to nag at the hem of his shirt, held out by his jeans ripped barely on his knees: "Come on, where did he go? What if he stood me up? What if he finally decides that he's no longer interested in me? I don't have many friends either, I could lose one without even having ever spent time with them!!!" Someone tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to jolt and turn around: Jesse was there, wearing the ever-present beige scarf around his neck over a black turtleneck jumper and a dark grey coat. -Hey! There you are! You're late.- -Actually, we're both early.- -Yes, but I arrived before you, so you are late.- The actor restrained himself from laughing at that funny expression: -We can continue discussing it, if you want, or walk to our next destination.- -... Let's go.- Giving him a little peck on the arm, Billy set off, but quickly turned back: -Listen, lead the way, you know the place.-

Sitting rigidly on the black wooden seat, his hands nervously clutching the edge of the tablecloth, looking around with the feeling that everyone was watching him, Billy was decidedly uncomfortable. Jesse noticed: -What's bothering you?- He put the menu down on the table top. -Huh? What are you saying?- -What's wrong?- -Uh...- The actor had arranged everything, so the boy's surprise at finding himself in an elegant restaurant had been a lot. But after a while the surprise was replaced by something else. -You see, man... The thing is... I'm not the type for such places...- -What's that?- -To cut a long story short...- He leaned forward slightly, and whispered: -My typical lunch or dinner is Thai take-out, pizza and burgers. I haven't eaten on a plate that isn't made of plastic in years!- Jesse blinked a couple of times, surprised. -And I'll tell you more- the other continued in a low voice, -Everybody's staring at me like I'm a a little monkey in the zoo! And I also understand why...- -If you prefer, we can go somewhere else.- -Where to?-

About twenty minutes later, the blondie found himself in front of a street food truck that prepared sandwiches, tacos and chips, with chairs and white plastic tables placed in front to seat customers. Not far away, the actor, sitting on the low wall of a flowerbed, waited for Billy, savouring the perfume coming from the kitchen that permeated the air. There were times when he forgot what life was like before success; not many years ago he too, with the other drama students, found it enjoyable to spend free afternoons eating "junk food" and doing funny imitations of professors joking with each other.

-Ok, here we go.- Billy handed him a closed cardboard box: -I got you the least dirty thing on the menu; it's a mess if you get sauce on your scarf.- -Thanks.- He opened the lid: inside was a sausage sandwich, still steaming hot. For his part, the boy had opted for a well-stuffed hamburger and two tubs of fries (one, however, he put near to Jesse), as well as two cans of beer. -Aren't you a little too young for booze?- the actor joked. -Every time I want a drink I get the exact same question! Do you want to see my documents by any chance?- -After all, your baby face, without the beard, makes you look younger.- -That's why I usually grow it a bit.- He tapped his finger on a can: -And they're non-alcoholic anyway, who do you take me for?- -A thousand apologies!- chuckled the other, grabbing and opening the nearest can. Smiling, Billy nibbled the sandwich with relish, thinking, "He noticed that I've given myself a settled down, then!" Holding up the can, Jesse declaimed: -A mug of beer is a meal for kings. The Tale of Winter, act four, scene three.- He lowered his arm and stared at Billy. -Shakespeare again?- -I can't control it...- -How many roles from his plays have you played exactly?- -I've lost count. To be honest, it would be easier to list which roles are missing.- He took a small bite of his sandwich. -I'll tell you, I know something of my own; we took classes in high school on Shakespeare... And don't take this the wrong way, daddy, but I find "Romeo and Juliet" meaningless.- Jesse raised an eyebrow, more at the nickname than anything else: -I don't mind, but it would be enlightening to know why.- -To begin with? The main characters are basically kids, who meet by chance and fall in love straight away! It doesn't work that way.- -You don't believe in love at first sight, then?- -No, I don't.- Billy seemed to frown for a moment, and bit into his burger so as not to continue. The dark-haired man realised this, and returned to the previous topic: -But, as you say, they were kids.- -Yes, but Romeo of all people goes and falls in love with the enemy's daughter? Apart from that, they kill each other to to stay together! That's crazy!- -They saw no other way out. So young and impulsive.- -They could have run away together before, without worrying about their families.- -Only after their departure, however, did the families reconcile. Running away would not resolve the conflict, and the feud would have continued.- -Mah. I still don't see the point.- Jesse smiled: -A tragedy is such because the protagonists often do not have a happy ending. You mean to tell me that you're the guy on the side of a classic happily ever after?- Before answering, the boy finished his burger, took a long swig of beer and grabbed his fries: -Not so much.- -No?- -I'm old enough to know that fairy tales are for kids. Hey, you better eat before it gets cold.-

-What are we doing here? -You've never been to a fair?- -Not recently.- Billy had chosen the next stop. There was a temporary fair in the city centre, and it was full of stalls of all kinds, from fortune tellers to prize fishing, as well as various shooting galleries and a Ferris wheel placed so that it stood out against the backdrop of the whole setting, packed with people. -I want to try target shooting, come on!- Pulling the other by the sleeve, with a sudden burst of vitality, Billy went in the direction of a stall where, by throwing three baseball shovels, you had the chance to score points by knocking down a pyramid of pins and win a prize. With a firm movement, the boy threw the first shot, missing the targets by a few centimetres. Jesse chuckled when he saw the other get angry and then muttered: -I was just warming up...- He threw the second ball, but it too ended up empty and indeed almost caught the owner of the bench. Again Billy huffed: -What the hell! All right, the third one is the good one!- With his last attempt he managed to hit a pin, but failed to move the adjacent ones. In practice, only the one at the top of the pyramid went down.

-See? I said I could do it!- the blond man strutted, -And anyway, it's a talent to only hit one of those things, isn't it?- He looked at Jesse, waiting for some kind of answer. -Certainly! It takes precision.- He once more curbed the urge to laugh. -You got ten points; you can choose from these prizes- said the owner, pointing to a part of the counter. -But they're all stuffed animals...- mumbled Billy, -Hey, daddy, I have an idea: you pick the one you like best; let's make it a present to you, shall we?- -Please don't call me daddy...- Looking at the prizes, Jesse spotted something interesting, and pulled it out of the pile of stuffed animals: it was a hamster the size of a sofa cushion, with brownish fur, round, shiny button eyes and chubby cheeks. -I think I'll choose this one!- Holding it in his hands, he showed it to the other with a cheerful expression: -He's adorable, isn't he? -Yes, cute...- -And you know what? He even looks a bit like you!- Blushing violently, Billy replied: -What are you talking about! That's not true!- He turned away abruptly: “If that thing looks like me and is adorable, you're telling me that-so am I!? What a fool!!!" Suddenly his vision blurred. He knew what it meant, and promptly began to search his pockets, but found them empty except for his wallet and keys. -Everything all right?- -Uh, yes...- He glanced around for some candy stalls, but didn't see any in the immediate surroundings. -Would you like to go on the Ferris wheel?- the actor proposed, attributing the other's agitation to embarrassment. -I suffer from vertigo...- -So... how about trying another shooting gallery?- The feeling of fainting had not come; Billy told himself that maybe he could hold out a little longer, so he adjusted his shirt: -I'm in! I want to see if you're as good as me!-

He was even more so, especially in the game of darts, where he managed to break the points record despite the absence of prizes to be won. Admiring him, with a hint of envy and clutching the soft toy in his hands, Billy watched Jesse throw the darts with fluid and really precise movements; although he didn't always hit the centre he had never missed the board. "Wow..." He felt his cheeks redden again; he shook his head and tried to come to his senses. Passing between one stall and another, evening soon fell, and with it came the time for dinner and the closing of the fair. The blond no longer felt the symptoms of low blood sugar, perhaps because Jesse's presence distracted him, and in a good way. -I missed the fun of a day with a friend- the actor said at one point. -How?- -Until six months ago I was a ghost in real life: my dedication to the theatre had absorbed me so much that I even forgot to take care of myself.- He looked at Billy: -I can say without a doubt that this is the first time I've really enjoyed myself since then.- Again the blood went to the boy's head, and his heart raced: -Ah, well, I'm glad you say that, daddy!- -You insist on calling me that, but I'm not that old!- He smiled, almost laughing. But at the next step, Billy felt weakness and a dizziness made him lose his balance. Promptly, the other man overtook him: -What's going on? Billy! Are you ok?!?- -I need to sit down...- They found a vacant bench; Jesse, thoughtfully, looked at the other taking his face in his hands: -You've turned so pale...- -It's nothing, I just... need something sweet...- -Wait here, I'll be right back.- He left him the soft toy, as if the object was to guard him, and ran to find a still-open stall selling candy or candyfloss. Looking mopey, Billy slowly picked up the hamster and held it in his arms. He felt depleted of strength, and mentally cursed his distraction; not having checked his pockets before going out hadbeen a huge mistake.

Jesse returned with a white plastic bag in his hand: -I found some chocolate, and I also bought a bottle of water to mix some sugar in.- -That should be enough...- He grabbed the chocolate bar the other was handing him and began to eating it. -What happened to you? It can't be low blood sugar; your lunch seemed substantial to me.- -No, I... You see, I had problems as a child, as far as eating was concerned, and as time went on time... Well, I developed mild hypoglycaemia. I get a low at least once a day, but all I need is a piece of candy or a lollipop to feel better.- He finished his chocolate and started sipping his water, already sweetened by Jesse, who sighed: -You gave me a fright.- -Well, now that you know...- He didn't finish the sentence, he was already quite dejected at being seen in that condition. The actor sat down beside him: -I'll have to remember to take some sweets with me, then, for our next outings.- The boy almost choked on a sip of water: -Huh?!? Next outings?!?- -You look surprised.- Billy really was. He was afraid that he would find his little problem pathetic, and that he would dumped him shortly thereafter, but if he was talking about forthcoming outings, perhaps such fears were unfounded. He swallowed: -It's that... um... well...- He looked down, fiddling nervously with the bottle: -O-ok... Just a chocolate, or two...- -Good.- Jesse stood up and held out his hand: -Can you stand?- -I think so...- -Then let me accompany you home for the time being, or I'm afraid you won't be able to ride your bike tomorrow.-

Chapter III

The entrance to the candy shop was ridiculously squashed at the sides by the facades of the two adjacent buildings. It consisted of a microscopic shop window and an equally small door, all supported by a chocolate-coloured frame. The sign above the entrance displayed in large letters "Billy's Candy".

Jesse's first impression on coming across it was that the architect had been inspired by some bizarre building from a Tim Burton film. He grabbed the brass door handle and opened it; the sound of an old bell alerted the owner of the presence of someone.

Billy emerged from behind the counter; when he realised it was the actor he smiled: -Hello, stranger! Not even a day has passed and here you are!- But the other was not listening to him. He was too busy looking at the rows of shelves full of jars filled with all kinds of delicacies, each with its own label and the price written under the name. The furniture was all the same colour as the door, even the counter looked like a chocolate bar. Of all this, Jesse made an almost murmured summary: -It's bigger on the inside...- -Ah! I see where you got this one from!- -Huh?- -The quote.- -I didn't make any quote.- -... Forget it. Back to us, were you really that eager to see me again?- The actor snorted: -You told me where to find you, I simply...- -Wait wait, I'll be right back.- Billy disappeared again under the counter; after a minute Jesse, not seeing him not return, decided to peek over it. There was an open metal trapdoor in the floor.

-What the...- He went behind the counter and approached: a wooden ladder led down, and a smell of caramel was rising along with a strange bubbling noise. Taking small steps down the ladder, the actor gradually detected other aromas such as mint, vanilla and chocolate, and even biscuits. He then found himself in a space as large as the one upstairs, full of ovens and cookers but also strange stills for distillation and pots of various shapes and sizes hanging from the ceiling. Two large refrigerators in the corners of the same wall sent out a low hum; on the opposite side a large red brick oven had just been switched off. Right around it was bustling Billy, who with red oven mitts was placing trays of biscuits on a shelf. All the furniture, curiously enough, was in the the same shade of colour as that of the shop.

-Just in time! The lady would kill me if I screwed up her order!- exclaimed the blond man taking the last batch. -Do you bake the sweets yourself?- -Sure, what did you think, that I had mini workers cooking down here?- -I thought you had at least one helper.- -I can't afford staff.- He removed his gloves and bent down to take from the lower counters some white boxes, like those you see in American movies for carrying doughnuts. -That's a lot of biscuits.- -Yeah, they're for the owner of a tea shop I know; she's three blocks away. She's a bit of a cranky spinster but not a bad one, and she pays well.- Being careful not to burn himself, he transferred the biscuits from the baking tins to the boxes. -How long have you been open, exactly?- -Three months. But things have only been running for two.- -And you did all this by yourself?- -Not really. There used to be a Chinese restaurant here, but they closed it down after the owner served accidentally bad shrimps for dinner. Twenty people intoxicated, can you imagine? Everything was already set up, I just had to redo the wiring and tidy up a bit here and there.- He closed the chat along with the last box: -Now I gotta make the delivery, man, so...- -Naturally. But could I know the shop's closing time?- Billy looked at him puzzled: -Why...?- -If I may be so bold, I would like to continue our conversation later.-

The blond was stunned. Was he making fun of him? After all, he was an actor, even if he was a little weirdo. -Do you want a date?- Jesse didn't flinch: -I'd say more like a walk. What do you think?- -That you're crazy.- He loaded the stacked boxes into his arms and walked towards the steps. The other followed him:  -Remember when I told you about being interested in someone?- -Vaguely.- -What if I told you that my interest is seriously about you?- Billy placed the boxes on the counter top and took some string from a drawer: 

-You don't have many friends, do you?- -You don't answer a question with another question.- -And I'll ask you another: why would someone like you would ever have an interest in me?- -Like me?- Tightening the knot of the string, the candyman added: -Yes, well, you seem to me a cultured an refined fellow, whereas yours truly is just a high-school graduate.- -You shouldn't belittle yourself like that.- -I'm used to it.- He picked up the boxes again and headed for the exit: -Thanks anyway; it's been a while since I had heard an excuse, even if it was a bit trite, to convince me to go out. It's almost flattering, daddy.- While talking, he had opened the door by pushing the handle with his elbow, and without giving the other time to reply, gave him a playful tongue with a wink, and ran out.

Astonished, Jesse stood motionless on the spot for a moment, trying to put the sequence of events in a logical order, but he was unable to do so, and he also had the feeling that he had been somehow misunderstood. But one thing became clear to him: the boy had a problem relating to others. And neither did he get angry at being mocked. With a sigh, he adjusted his scarf and prepared to leave. He noticed that the shop's timetable had actually been placed in a corner of the window in the form of a sticker.

-I was expecting you ten minutes ago, boy! Where have you been?- -I've been having trouble, ma'am...- -Miss!- Next thing you know, she'll be getting yelled at by that nutcase, so Billy handed her the biscuit tins and reiterated: -Miss Jane, if I discount you ten euros will you stop yelling at me?- She took the boxes under her arm and, huffing, adjusted a lock of her carrot-coloured hair behind her ear: -I'll go get the money, wait here.- Billy watched her disappear into the diner; meanwhile he felt a slight dizziness. "Here we go again..." He took from his inside jacket pocket a chocolate cigarette and began to eating it. When Miss Jane returned, with cash in hand, she could not help but ask: -That hypoglycaemia problem again? Have you gone to see a doctor?- -It's all under control. One sweet treat and I'm fine.- -Except your teeth will rot from all the damn sugar you swallow. -She shoved the money in his hand: -And now get out of here, I have to open the lounge. -Evening, Miss.- Shoving the money in his pocket, he walked back to his shop at a brisk pace. When he entered, he saw that Jesse was gone. Not that he had expected to find him still there, after all. "I almost feel sorry for ditching him so badly... Ah, but who has time to think about that; I have to prepare the gummy crocodiles and grenadine!"

Jesse returned to the front of the shop five minutes before closing time. He was clutching a brown paper bag with one hand, and found himself fiddling with the hem of his scarf with the other, just to pass the time. Finally he saw Billy come out to lock up; he approached him at a leisurely pace as he put the padlock to the shutter: -Hey, hello.- The other jumped up with a shriek, and putting his hand on his chest, recognising the actor he shouted: -You almost gave me a heart attack!!! Does tha look like the way?!?- Th darkie stifled the impulse to laugh on the spot: Billy had such a funny face at that moment. He handed him the bag: -I have a peace offering.- -Uhm?- Grabbing the object, he immediately opened it to examine its contents. It was sandwiches cut into triangles. -They're all for you. I thought you'd be hungry by now- the actor added, -In return I only ask to accompany you to... whatever place you need to return to.- -I don't need to be accompanied...- His stomach muttered slightly; the sweets he had eaten earlier had not been enough to satiate him, only delaying the need for a full meal. He grabbed a sandwich: -But if you want to, it's fine; I should warn you, however, that I also speak with my mouth full.- -I'll avoid watching you do it, then.-

The two set off towards the centre of Paris, in the residential area, wandering through increasingly deserted streets. It was Billy who broke the silence: -How come you brought me food?- -I thought I had offended you in some way, seeing how you cut the conversation short this afternoon.- Filling his mouth with a sandwich, his cheeks swollen, the other mumbled: -What the hell? No!- Jesse looked at him: with those funny protruding teeth and cheeks full of food he looked like a hamster. A smile came to his face. -What is it?- -Nothing.-

As Miss Jane threw out the rubbish and was about to close up in her turn, she noticed across the street Billy walking with a strange, tall, distinguished man. She stared at them for a while, muttering to herself: -Where did that handsome guy come from? Yeez. The little boy has more taste than I thought.-

Jesse took the conversation to another tone: -About today... I was serious when I was talking about taking an interest in you. I actually don't have many friends outside of show business, and we end up almost always talking about the same old things.- -Really?- Filling his mouth with another sandwich, he mumbled, scattering crumbs on the the floor: -You must be pretty bored if so little interests you.- -Little? For pity's sake, what drives you to have such a contemptible opinion of yourself?- -Ah, the list is long, but the sad story of my life can be summed up in a few words: absent parents, troubled adolescence, running away from home as soon as I turned 18... Take your pick. As for me as far as I'm concerned, I try to live day to day worrying only about my business.-

The actor did not know what to say. That boy who at first sight had seemed to him immature, cheerful and irreverent had, after all, his own reasons for not talking about his private affairs.

-Fortunately I'm not one of those who gets depressed about his past misfortunes, otherwise you would have called me a whiner!- joked Billy, who, having finished his meal, rolled up the bag and, locating a metal bucket, threw it in an attempt to go to the basket; he narrowly missed the target. -Argh!- He ran to retrieve the waste, followed at a slower pace by Jesse, -I never get it on the first shot!- He threw the paper ball into the basket, huffing. The other took a handkerchief from his pocket: -You have some sauce left on your cheek, wait...- -Huh?- Jesse wiped his face with a corner of the handkerchief, then smiled: -Done. The pink of the tuna doesn't match your freckles, you know?-

He received no reply. Billy stood motionless, staring at him with wide blue eyes. -Are you all right?- He slowly saw the boy's face turn redder and redder, going from a more mild to a true purple. Still without answering, he ran away so quickly that it took the actor a moment to realise he was gone. -What did I say?-

Chapter II

Throwing down the shutter of the shop, Billy hurried to close the lock and jump on the bike cart to reach the park. He had earned enough the previous afternoon to spend the entire morning there.

With the wind tousling his hair, which peeked out from under his hat, with a big smile he entered the main entrance of the park and with an effortless hop got off the saddle and stopped a little further on. As expected, there were many families with children that day too.

An unpleasant and familiar voice reached him from behind: -You again! I can't believe it!- Billy felt himself chilling and turned around: a short guy in a dark grey suit, with a big nose and a scowling air was approaching him with great steps, his little black moustache seeming to vibrate with ill-concealed anger. -Uh... Detective... Dalton...- -I had expressly forbidden you contact with minors even in public places!- -That was two months ago, come on...- -Hi Billy!!- Behind the policeman a little girl with black hair and big green eyes appeared green eyes appeared, who happily waved to him. -Amélie? What are you doing here, little one?- -The uncles took me to the park!- -Uncles?- Looking up, the boy noticed a young man joining them. He, too, had black hair, combed into a funny topknot that went forward, dressed simply in jeans and a pale yellow shirt. -Yes, my Uncle Luke and Uncle Joe!-The girl took them both by the hand. -So he's the Billy who gave you the candies a while back...- Luke looked kind, yet his gaze betrayed a certain suspicion. -I don't do anything else, it's my job to make sweets for the little ones...- He swallowed, smiling nervously: -And indeed, may I offer all three of you a lollipop? As a token of peace, Detective...- Billy rummaged in one of the large jars.

-Look who's here.- Another familiar voice reached the boy's ear, who turned around: Jesse had appeared out of nowhere, same beige scarf around his neck but different coat, shorter and navy blue. -Ooh, the tall guy! Were you waiting for me?- -Don't talk nonsense, I've just arrived.- -Jesse James? The best Shakespearean actor in town? - Luke stepped forward. -That's me.- -I admire your work. Impeccable acting.- -So you flatter me.- -I'm just telling the truth; the best Hamlet I've ever seen played.- -Uncle Luke, don't flirt with the others in front of Uncle Joe! -Complained Amelie, tugging him slightly, -You know he can get jealous.- A silent awkwardness fell, in which detective Dalton turned purple, Billy restrained himself (definitely with difficulty) from bursting out laughing, and Jesse and Luke looked at each other in obvious embarrassment. -Amélie, sweetheart, complimenting someone is not flirting...- said the uncle with a cough. -Let it go... Come on...- Grabbing the lollipops with a rough gesture from Billy's hands, Joe looked at him sharply: -I've got my eye on you, all right?- Amélie waved to Billy, who waved back, then turned to Jesse: -That's the guy who threw me in the cell.- -Peculiar character, no doubt. As is his partner; very courteous.- -Who would have thought? When he threw me in the cell he didn't look like someone who could find love!- -Love is blind, and darkness suits it. Romeo and Juliet, act two, scene one.- Billy looked at the other puzzled: -What is this, a tic?- -I can't help it. By now I have Shakespeare in my blood and in my mind.- -There are psychologists for that.- Grabbing the handlebars of the bike, he motioned towards into the park: -See you later, daddy, I have candy to sell. -I'd rather not be called that. And the conversation is not over!- -Well, I'm busy. If you want to talk, keep up with me, but tell me if you're out of breath!-

Jesse felt his anger rise again. Billy noticed, and chuckled softly. It was fun to tease that guy! But the smile faded from his face when he realised that in the spot where he usually parked with the cart at the beginning of the day, a street performer in clown's make-up had settled in, juggling with coloured balls. -What a bastard!- Putting the stand on his bike, Billy scowled: -This is the third time that that clown has stolen my place; this time I'm going to beat him!- Jesse intervened: -Forget it, there's plenty of room in the park.- -It's a matter of principle, man.- He handed him his hat: -Keep it. I'll go kick his ass and come back.- -You're kidding, right?- He grabbed him by the arm: -Control yourself, please, think of the children! What example do you want to set to them who adore you so much?- Billy seemed to think about it for a moment. He had a point; he would lose his loyal customers. This persuaded him to desist, and taking up his hat he muttered: -All right, there's the second place where I stop where I can go...-

Billy soon regained his good spirits, surrounded by his little friends. Many of them he had already met in the shop, while with the new ones he tried to be particularly nice so that encourage them to visit him. For the three times he had moved, Jesse had followed him, trying to extract some information about him from the guy. As they were on their way to the fourth strategic point, the the blond man blurted out: -What do you want from me?- -Pardon?- -You're stickier than syrup, and I know what I'm talking about because I use it in sweets! Do you have a thing for younger ones, daddy?- Turning crimson, the actor replied in tone: -There's nothing wrong with being interested in someone, no matter how immature and impertinent that someone is!-

Stopping his pace, Billy looked at him crookedly for a moment, and rummaging in a pocket of his uniform, he handed him a business card with a sharp gesture. Jesse stared at the card before grabbing it and beginning to read it. -There's my shop address and phone number.- -Really? Yesterday you didn't seem very willing to give me such information.- -Well, I changed my mind. And excuse me for saying so, but I'd rather do my work now, so you're unhooked.- -I'm what?- -Unhooked. You're free to do whatever you want. See you, man.-

Jesse was not sure, but the young candy salesman seemed embarrassed. And he was: Billy had never heard of “interest” towards him. It was strange, no one had ever taken an interest in him, not even his parents!

Spin off of the principal story, still a Modern!AU. The main characters of these chapters comes from the 2009 live action movie “Lucky Luke” starring Jean Dujardin as the lonesome cowboy. We’re talking about Jesse James and Billy the Kid; this ship was inspired by my friends @milich96 , @thenightmaregirls and @artsarasp after we watched the movie together. Enjoy :)

Chapter I

Strolling along the Seine in the seasonal fraction between late summer and early autumn is considered by most to be a pleasant activity. The colours of the tree leaves begin to change, fading into different shades of yellow depending on the species, and the air becomes cooler. In this scenery, while a pleasant breeze rippled the surface of the calmly flowing river, different types of busy people crossed each other on the bridges: boys laughing with each other, men in suits on their mobile phones or earphones, groups of elderly ladies gossiping...

In the midst of this chaotic frenzy, a man stood staring at the Seine, leaning against the railing of a bridge, a quiet smile on his face and his chin resting in one hand for support. To the eyes of those who had time to pause and notice him, this man immediately appeared full of peculiarities: his black hair was kept short, slightly combed back; a well-trimmed beard followed his features, not too marked. His clothing was fairly sober, a suit with a long black coat on top, were it not for an even longer beige scarf that almost touched the ground. But what struck the most attentive observers was his lost gaze, distant, as if he was not actually looking at the banks and embankments as others saw them.

A girl, who broke away from her group of friends, approached the man with big, emotion-filled eyes: -Excuse me... Aren't you Jesse James, the theatre actor?- He turned to give the girl a smile: -Yes, miss.- -Unbelievable! My mother and I are great admirers of yours; we have seen all your plays! Can I ask you for an autograph?- -Certainly.- He took the small, pink-covered notebook she was handing him, together with a pen, and with a quick, precise gesture, signed a blank page in nice handwriting before returning it back to its owner. The girl clutched the notebook in her hands like the most precious of treasures: -Thank you very much! But tell me: why don't you perform as often as you used to?- -Even actors need a quiet period, Miss. By that I do not mean meditating retirement; Paris has so much to offer to performers.- -It's a relief to hear you say that. Your fans miss you a lot; no one can hold a candle to your “Richard III'!”- Hinting a bow with her head, she greeted him and then joined her friends who had stopped not far away. The actor sighed, still with a smile, and walked off in the opposite direction.

Yes, he really needed to take some time off after his last major show, which had taken place six months earlier. He had always considered himself a “stage animal”, but his physique suffered after lost hours of sleep and too inconsistent meals between rehearsals. At the end of his performance as Iago in “Othello”, he had collapsed backstage, frightening everyone; fortunately it was nothing more than a sugar crash. From then on, he had devoted himself to more modest productions, more elastic with their schedule. The theatre was always and in any case his life, and to stop performing would have been like stopping breathing.

Walking without actually looking where he was going, he found himself in a public park in the city centre. Many families were strolling in the paths and playing in the grassy areas; children were running and climbing on the playgrounds like so many little monkeys, laughing and shouting. A mime was performing his silent art with a cheerful accordion music playing in the background, via a small radio, next to a fountain; the noise of the traffic diminished but did not disappear completely as he entered the park.

A sound, however, caught Jesse's attention above the cacophony: it sounded like a music box, with a childish but catchy tune. Moving a few steps in the direction it came from, he saw a group of excited and happy children all around a bicycle cart selling all kinds of candies, from the classic toffee to candy canes; colourful lollipops were on display in large glass jars neatly placed on the countertop.

-All right, all right, one at a time!- said a male voice, a little shrill; emerging from the group of brats a boy in his twenties adjusted his red and white striped hat and with a smile made funny by two beaver incisors, he added: -Get in line, boys! First the females first; always give way to the females! And don't push!-

Jesse stood a few metres away to get a better look at him: despite his slightly unkempt stubble, the young man had a childlike face; his sandy blond hair was medium-long and dishevelled under his hat. His face was freckled, and two big blue eyes went frantically from one child to another in order to give attention to each of the little customers. Perhaps he was a little neglected, even the uniform had here and there some crudely stitched tears, but the children seemed to love him, and who could blame them, the actor thought to himself: the sweet scent of the candies spread through the air irresistibly.

-Thank you, Billy!- said the little ones in turn as they walked away with the treat they had bought, or as Jesse couldn't fail to notice that the salesman had even gifted them, along with a rectangular card, like a business card.

When the pack of brats dispersed, the young man let out a slight sigh and realised he was being watched, and perhaps in a tone a little too familiar he turned to Jesse, frowning: -Hey, man, is there a problem?-

The actor looked around for a moment: was he talking to him?

The other planted his hands on his hips: -Yes, tall man, I'm talking to you! You were staring at me, don't deny it!- -Sorry if I seemed rude. I was intrigued by the congregation of children around your cart.- -Congre- What? How do you talk?-

Indeed, Jesse could not talk formally to other people. He was even so fond of Shakespeare's writings that he ended up quoting passages he had learnt by heart in conversations. This helped him a lot in his job, but made interactions with others quite complicated.

The blond continued, looking at him suspiciously: -Are you a cop? Last time was enough for me...- -A cop?- -Yeah. A nasty, hysterical dwarf locked me in a cell all night on charges of molesting children!! Is that even possible? I love kids, but not like that!- -I can guarantee you I'm not a cop. Just a wandering actor lost in his thoughts and found himself here following the music box.- -An actor, huh? I don't think I've seen you in the movies.- -I play in the theatre.- -Ah. Never been the theatre type.-

Jesse tilted his head, intrigued rather than annoyed: that boy seemed sincere. And there was something funny about his sincerity.

-Anyway... For the record, I don't molest children. I make sweets and candy for them, nothing more. And occasionally I give them as presents. Is that a crime?- He began to gather up the various parts of the cart in order to move it. Jesse let slip a quotation; it was stronger than he was: -It only takes a drop of evil to cast an infamous shadow over any virtue.- The other raised his head as he stooped to pull up the catches of his vehicle:      -What? -Uh... it was Hamlet, act one, scene four, verse thirty-eight.- The candy salesman scrutinised him thoroughly. The actor swallowed imperceptibly: he had done it again. -What did you say your name was, tall man?- This left the other interjected for a second: -I didn't say that... Jesse. Jesse James.- -Billy. Pleased to meet you.- He went back to arranging the moving parts. -Just Billy?- -You want my social security number? Everyone calls me Billy.- -I was interested in your real name.- -... You ask too many questions to be an actor. And I have to work.- He pulled up the last latch and grabbed the handlebars of the bike: -See you around.-

Jesse stopped him before he removed the stand: -Wait!- He took his wallet out of a coat pocket: -I would like to buy a candy cane, please.- Billy stood motionless for a second, continuing to look at him, then pronounced himself by placing his hands on his hips again: -I have the candyfloss-flavoured ones left.- -I'm fine with that.- -One euro, man.- Taking the coin from his small inside pocket, Jesse added: -Those cards you gave to the kids...- -I have a little shop downtown. I just opened. I advertise here in the park on weekends.- He handed him the stick and took the euro. -Could I ask for a ticket too?- -What do you do with it, man? I'll be here tomorrow at the same time, and the same time next week.- He got on his bike and rode away, almost shouting:         -Besides, it's good for you to walk at your age, daddy!-

Before Jesse could reply, the blond man had ridden off at top speed with a boisterous laugh. Flaming with rage, he clutched the stick in his fist and gave it an angry bite. How could he have dared to call him an old man, that irreverent brat!

Notre Dame’s Bells

Perhaps it had not been a good idea after all to go to that bookstore on a Saturday morning. It was the best stocked he knew, but it was so crowded with customers that he, from below, couldn't see past the legs of the people. If he had not been accompanied, he probably would have ended up crushed.

-I haven't seen such a crowd since Versailles- commented the person next to him. -At least you could breathe there... I can't believe that on this Saturday half of Paris gathered here!- The other laughed: -There are discounts, what can you do?-

The shorter man looked at his companion: personally he would never have allowed himself to be dragged into such a situation, but he would have thrown himself into a cage full of angry monkeys to be with Luke. After the Mason affair was over, Joe Dalton feared that the other man's interest in him would fade, just as it had in the past with others; instead, the former thief was constantly proposing date upon date, whatever the context or time, from a simple coffee to a movie. And although he would never admit it, he could only be happy about it.

-Thank you for agreeing to help me- continued the taller man. -You're welcome. If you're looking for a book, this is the best place. By the way, what exactly is it about?- -"Notre Dame de Paris". Madame Louise fell in love with the musical and asked me to find her a copy of the book.- -Ah, yes, I know the story. They made a musical about it??- -Also very good, I must say.-

A customer inadvertently gave Joe a shove, and he wobbled backwards. Luke was ready to grab him from under his arms: -Watch out!- No one stopped; the crowd went deeper into the bookshop. -What a mess!- the detective complained, getting back on balance, -Let's find the right section and let's get out of here!-

Luke exhaled with a half-smile, then took the other by the hand, who suddenly turned as red as a tomato: -We just have to creep through the crowd. Do you know where we have to go?- -Uh... Historical novels... I think it's this way...- Dalton took a direction and guided the other without letting go of his grip. It wasn't hard for the two of them to happen to hold hands, but it always had an effect on him.

Pushing and shoving, they finally reached their destination; the crush seemed to have taken over every inch of the place. Looking up, Luke finally saw what he was looking for, and on tiptoe tried to reach for the big book: -Damn, it's too high...- Joe looked at him: could it be that height was also a problem for the tall man? The latter looked first at the book, then at the detective, and his eyes lit up: -I guess I have to ask you for help again.- -Excuse me?-

Luke grabbed Joe by the hips and pulled him up: -Can you reach?-

Stunned, Dalton grabbed the volume. The other brought him back down and, holding him in his arms, joked: -That's collaboration!-

The detective turned if possible even redder, and his heart pounded in his chest.

-In two, there is no stopping us- continued the other, without ceasing to smile.

Joe had to maintain all his self-control not to give in to the temptation to kiss him there, in front of everyone; trembling and with his heartbeat at its limit he bit his lower lip and replied: -It's... it's true...- -Let's get to the register; ready for another round of pushing?-

After all that commotion, the two decided to stop and take a rest in a nearby park. Dalton enjoyed the gentle late-summer breeze and drew in a breath, lying down on a bench with his hands at stomach height: -Much better...-

Luke took a seat next to him, resting the paper bag with the book inside on his lap: -It was a feat. Coming back to us, you said you know the story.- -Yes. My brothers and I once recited it at school, you know?- -No, really?- -In high school, art classes kept you out of trouble. In short, all four of us contributed to the play. I got the role of Quasimodo.- -Wow, one of the main roles.- -I wasn't happy, though. At that time I was not yet aware of my appearance, and I did not like the part I'd been given.- -Aware?- -You know I'm very realistic about how I look.-

Luke raised an eyebrow: yes, he knew. It was not the first time they had broached the subject.

-The worst thing was that they had chosen the prettiest girl in school to play Esmeralda. Everyone had a crush on her, including me in a way, but she didn't count me out in everyday life, let alone in the play. But she helped me get into the part, I must admit.- He looked at the passing clouds: -I mean, that poor bell-ringer had it all, hunchbacked, ugly and half deaf. I felt, what do you call it, empathy. He falls in love with a girl who will never love him back.- -Not really. She considered him a friend, after all.- -Sure. Oh, and icing on the cake, the teachers didn't like the ending, so they changed it to a brighter one. Everybody happy.- -I detect a slight bitterness.- -Even if there had always been a happily-ever-after, Esmeralda would have stayed with Captain Phoebus. Quasimodo would have been left with nothing but a broken heart.- -There's one difference between you and him, though, Joe.- -What's that?- -That you're much cuter.-

Dalton looked up, frowning, at Luke: -Sometimes I doubt that you are either blind or too kind.- -You know I mean it.- He leaned towards the other, smiling sweetly: -You're the one who doesn't see it.- -What do you mean?- -There's nothing wrong with you, not to me; I've told you I don't know how many times.- -I've lost count. I'm almost starting to believe it.- Widening his smile a little, Luke leaned in even closer: -Then I'll keep telling you until it happen.-

Joe remained motionless: he was very close, too close; he felt like an electric shock running from his brain through his entire body. Without almost realising it, he took the other man's face in his hands and cancelled the distance between them to kiss him on the mouth, like this, upside down.

Luke blinked; he had not expected this. Dalton stood like that for a matter of seconds, before realising what he had done. He broke away suddenly, and fumbling with his arms in the air in an attempt to sit up he went into a total panic: -OhnoI’msosorrysorrysorry!!!-

Remaining inebriated for a moment longer, the former thief blinked a couple of times before answering, uncertain: -Don't... Have to...- -I shouldn't have done it, I had resisted until now, damn it!!!- The detective suddenly plugged his mouth with his hands, but it was too late. -Resisted...?-

Joe looked at him with wide eyes, his face on fire. He was mentally preparing himself for what would follow. The rejection he so feared, for example.

-I've...- -Joe?- -It's just that... You... I mean...- He noticed that in the meantime the book had fallen to the floor with the whole envelope; he picked it up, nervous, and wiped the dust off it. -I what?- His tone was anxious, more than annoyed.

Dalton took out the book and, without thinking, added softly: -You are... my Esmeralda...-

With his heart missing a beat or two, he did not know, Joe felt himself dying inside for what he had just said. Something so honeyed that inside he felt it almost pathetic. He refused to look at the other, who had remained silent. Perhaps he had left and Joe had not noticed.

Taking courage, his heart having returned to the marathon, the detective turned slowly towards Luke, and saw something totally unexpected: the other had a bright look, seemed to have little stars in his eyes, his cheeks slightly red and his mouth half-closed, in a surprised and tender expression.

-Uh... Luke? Are you... all right?-

And this is it, “Les Joyau le plus precieux” fanfiction ends here! 

A Lucky Luke Modern!AU fanfiction

Chapter XX - The final clue

-In the course of the investigation that was supposed to lead to the arrest of the thief known as Lucky Luke, my brothers and I stumbled upon the criminal organisation of Dorian Mason, and discovered that our wanted man was nothing more than an agent under the orders of this unscrupulous man, orders carried out under duress and threat. Mason was then caught red-handed trying to auction off valuable works of art stolen over the years on behalf of himself and his father. Currently, these objects are still being recovered by the russian authorities in cooperation with experts from museums in various parts of the world so that the rightful owners can be identified.-

The press conference held in the police department in Paris was attended by journalists from broadcasters and newspapers from almost the entire city. The news of Mason's arrest had attracted a lot of media attention and had already earned Joe and his brothers a lot of notoriety in a few days, as well as a commendation from their boss. But up to that point the detective had not wanted to make a statement. He couldn't. He had to study that lie well to protect Luke.

A reporter raised his hand: -Where is Dorian Mason at the moment?- -He has been brought back to America, and handed over to the FBI awaiting trial. There is no doubt that with the evidence gathered, he will be locked up in prison for a long, long time.- A woman asked the floor: -What happened to Lucky Luke?- -Unfortunately, we lost track of him in Russia, after the explosion of Mason's secret headquarters. He is still to be considered a fugitive, but not knowing his true identity, which we have not been able to ascertain despite our investigations, it will be difficult to establish his whereabouts at the moment.-

Cheyenne, Betty and the other three Daltons looked at each other in complicity as they listened to Joe, gathered against the wall behind the reporters with other policemen.

The interview went on for a while; when regular work resumed in the offices Cheyenne joined the detective in his office: -Hey!- -Hi. How's it going?- -Great, now that you've declared a certain person untraceable.- -How is he doing, by the way?- -Much better. In the end, the worst diagnosis was a mild concussion. He's at home resting now.- -Well, I'm glad.- He looked down with a slight smile. -Ah, Joe: he asked me to give you this.- She took from her shoulder bag a rectangular package wrapped in red paper and gold ribbon: -He said it's a gift you'll appreciate.- -Uh?- He took the packet and checked it. -I have to run, Amélie will be out of school soon.- She paused at the door: -Joe.- -Yes?-

-Thank you very much. For everything.- She gave him one last sweet smile before she left. Dalton smiled to himself and slowly opened the package, finding a brand new book with a yellow ochre cover in his hands. There was no title on the spine, so he opened it at the first page to find out: it was a novel by Arthur Conan Doyle.

-Look, it's one of the books Luke likes...- When he saw the title he blinked: a small light flashed in his mind, a suspicion. He looked in front of him for a moment, thinking back to their conversations: snippets like "I prefer historical and adventure novels to detective stories", or "Cheyenne taught me how to act since we were kids".

He left his office and went to Betty's: -Am I disturbing you?- -No, Joe, tell me.- -I need to see this last month's permits log.- -Sure, wait...- She rummaged through a stack of documents until she found the right file: -Here it is.- -Thank you.- He scrolled through the list of names until he found the one he was looking for. -Are you okay?- the psychologist asked. -Yes. Thank you, Betty.- He handed the documents back to her and walked calmly to the archives. He could not run, he risked attracting attention. Once he reached the dusty, shadowy room, holding the book behind his back, he called firmly: -Pierre?-

The arrival of the archivist was anticipated by the sound of something falling with a dull thud and papers flying, then he came staggering in and babbling: -S-sir! Reporting for duty, sir! What can I do for you?-

-Tell me, Pierre: you've been with us for how long exactly?- -Uh, I don't know... Quite a while now.- -Uh-uh. Could you please explain to me what your role is here with us? Act like I don't know.- -Yes. So, my job is to catalogue and store case information that field agents gather during investigations.- -Even tactical operations information?- -Yes, sir. It's a security matter.- -I understand. I imagine how much you had to catch up on when you got back.- -What?- -You've had the flu these past few days, from what I understand.- -That's right.- -Curious.- He brought the book in front of him, holding it with two hands: -You asked for leave at the same time as me, did you know that?- -Really?- Joe opened the small volume and looked nonchalantly at the title, continuing: -Uh uh. And there's another curious thing. Your name.- -My name?- -Gerard. Your name is the same as the protagonist of this novel, you know?- He closed the book abruptly and continued: -Tell me if I followed the trail of breadcrumbs correctly... Luke.-

Pierre at that point changed completely: with a smile, he straightened his back, removed his glasses and the latex application on his face, revealing that he had no freckles and that his nose was slightly smaller than it appeared; instead of brown hair, once the wig was removed, there appeared a raven hair with a forelock combed forward.

-I don't know whether to applaud you or slap you- said the detective. -The sound would be the same.- -You were here all along, under my nose.- -Let's face it, it was a nice surprise.- -You could say that.- Dalton put the book down on the desk in the room: -Considering that you were there while I was telling everyone that you were untraceable, I can imagine your effort in trying not to laugh.- -But I didn't want to laugh.- -You didn't?- -No, Joe.- He approached him: -To dance and celebrate. Do you realise what you did?- -It depends...?- He sat down on the edge of the desk. -With your speech you put an end to the life of crime I was forced to lead. Your help was invaluable.- His smile softened: -You gave back my freedom.- -You're welcome.- He fiddled with the corner of a paper: -And as for your role here?- -I don't have to spy on the police any more. Pierre Gerard must disappear in his turn; I already have a letter of resignation ready.- -Not necessarily. You can stay.- Lucky shook his head: -No more secrets and false identities, Joe. It's better that way. Besides, I couldn't keep up with my work at the Moulin Rouge.- -So from now on, you're just Luke.- -Exactly.-

A Lucky Luke Modern!AU fanfiction

Chapter XIX - Showdown

-Are you comfortable?- Mason asked his two prisoners, tied with ropes on two chairs, back to back. They had taken them to a secret room located between what used to be the roof of the old base and the beginning of the tower foundation, a rather cold and bare place with concrete walls and a large air duct running along one wall.

-Now you're going to explain how you intend to eliminate us- Joe threw in. -Of course he will, it's a pretty common cliché- added Lucky. -You still have the will to be humorous. Either you're very brave, or very stupid.- -That line was obvious, too, wasn't it, Joe?- -True. And to answer you, Dorian, we're just sure we'll get away with it. Come on, Luke has eluded me for so long thanks to his shameless luck that I've learned not to underestimate it. You should, too.- -Your optimism and confidence are commendable, but I'm sure they'll abandon you once I tell you what I need... this for.- From a pocket under his jacket he took out a small black remote control with a button and a dull red bulb: -Can you guess what this is about, Detective?- -A remote control, it seems obvious to me.- -This will be tonight's grand finale. Do you know why the lift that runs up the tower does not stop before the top floor?- -Because it's empty all around, isn't it?- -That's right, Luke. Just beams and concrete above our heads. Apart from the bombs, of course.-

Dalton suddenly became serious: -What bombs?- -Once the auction is over, this place has to disappear. So I thought fireworks would be ideal.- -Build a place and then demolish it? You really have money to burn, Dorian!- exclaimed Luke. -And you will enjoy the show very closely, my dears. Because you will be here till the end.- He hid the remote control in his jacket again: -You still have about four and a half hours to live. You can entertain yourselves by counting the cracks on the wall.- He made to leave, but turned one last time to Lucky: -By the way, did you know that Ivor has a GPS microchip under his skin? And that therefore I knew he was stuck in Paris? Anyway, great idea to record false messages.- -You did just as well for a dog, then.- -He's my trusty right-hand man. I dread to imagine what you did to him to force him to talk. But I intend to get him out of trouble, and if a single one of your friends or relatives tries to stop me...- That tone of thinly veiled threat was enough to make Luke shake in his chair: -You wouldn't dare!- -I won't. My men will. Well, goodbye.-

Left alone, with the dull hum of the air duct in the background, Joe tried to communicate through his earpiece: -Nat? Pjotr? Can you hear me? Damn... There's no reception here at all... Maybe we're isolated or something.- -I swear, if he touches our families, he's going to pay dearly.- -That's not gonna happen, because we're gonna escape. Can you move your hands?- -No, my wrists are tied to the legs of the chair. How about you?- -The same. And they're tied pretty tightly too, damn it.- -Our only hope are Pjotr and Nat.- -Yeah. Just because the earpieces don't work now, doesn't mean they're not looking for us.- -... Joe.- -Yes?- -I have to agree with Mason on one thing. I got you into this, and now your life's in danger, too. I'm sorry.- -Stop it. You gave me a choice and I knew the risks; I voluntarily followed you here.- -But...- -Come on, I'm a cop, which is a dangerous job in itself! What do you want it to be, being tied up, getting stuck under tons of concrete, with the looming threat of being crushed to bits and in the company of a partner in a miniskirt and tights!- The latter made Lucky let out a laugh: -It's not the best, I'd say!- -Yes, but it would be worse to face this situation alone.- -Yeah. At least Mason didn't separate us.-

A momentary, strange silence fell, until Joe continued: -Did you mean it when you said you wanted to stay in Paris?- -Yes.- -So... you would stay with the company at the Moulin Rouge, as well as continuing to live with Cheyenne.- -Yes, but why-- -I don't want you to disappear, you know.- -Disappear?- -I mean... Apart from the fights and the chases, we also had fun. When we get back to Paris, well...- -Yes?- -You can keep bugging me, Luke.- -You mean you want us to keep... seeing each other?- -If you want to.- -Of course I do!- asserted the other, -So that's what you left hanging in the car earlier!- -Let me put it this way: when we manage to escape from here and kick Mason's ass, I wouldn't mind another dinner with getaway.- -Huh. We still have four hours and something to get out of this mess.- -We could use a razor blade or something very sharp... but this room is completely empty.-

A metallic thud suddenly resounded.

-Did you hear that, Joe?- -What?-

Another thud.

-Comes from the air duct.- -Those things often make noises like that...-

The grille that acted as an air vent on the duct crashed to the ground with a clang, along with a figure dressed in black who muttered something in Russian after the tumble.

-Pjotr!- exclaimed Lucky, -You don't know how glad I am to see you, my friend!- -Are you guys ok?- Taking a penknife from his belt he quickly freed them from the ropes: -Nat guided me to you; it wasn't easy since the signal is missing here.- -Yes, we are fine. But we don't have much time- answered Joe. Pjotr handed the black backpack on his shoulder to Luke: -Tell me everything while our friend changes. I think he's sick of high heels.-

Having briefly explained the situation to their friend, Lucky (back in male clothing with trousers, comfortable shoes and a blue pullover) concluded: -We must reach the top of the tower and stop the auction. Mason will not risk the lives of all his guests just to get rid of us.- -And once there? Did you see how many men he has at his disposal- objected Dalton, -There will be at least seven of them in there.- -If I had my gun, I could easily disarm them... But I made a serious mistake: it was in the handbag we lost in that jewellery room, and I doubt it remained there after our failed capture attempt.- -Talk about this?- With a slight sneer, Joe pulled the seven-shot mentioned by the other out from under his jacket. Luke was speechless: -How did you...?- -I hid it along with mine in case we needed it while we were in the lift with Mason. Luckily we weren't searched.- As he watched the former officer's surprised expression, the detective felt a certain satisfaction: it was obvious that the other hadn't expected this.

-Ah, Joe, you're great!!- Lucky hugged him, lifting him off the ground and making a short turn. -Come on, for so little...- he muttered, red in the face. -So little? You just increased our chances of success!- -Ok, OK, but put me down now...- -Guys, wait... We still have a problem- said Pjotr. -What is it?- the other two turned to him in unison. -Even if we manage to disarm the guards, there will be panic among the other guests. Mason could take advantage of the confusion to escape, and do svidaniya.- -He's right, Luke. We must first think of a way to lock him in that room.- -Uhm...- Putting Dalton down, Lucky pondered: -Nat had managed to get into their systems, right?- -Yes, and they haven't found out yet, as far as we know.- -Then let's get out of here and get back in touch with him as soon as possible. Pjotr, are you able to make the reverse route from the shaft to get us out?- -I think so.- -Let's go.- He grabbed the russian from under his arms and helped him up through the vent, and did the same to Joe, who then extended a hand for him to join them. Crawling into the vent, after several attempts the transmitters came back on: -Luke! Joe! Can you hear me? Pjotr!- -Nat!- -Joe! You're alive! I feared the worst! -Mason wanted to take us out quietly. I'll tell you all about it.-

On the top floor of the tower, Mason had the room rearranged to begin the auction. He looked out of a window, thoughtful: he hadn't lied about the items to be sold, he didn't much care who would win them, he just wanted to get rid of them. His father was a collector, but he had raised a businessman, who not only saw beauty but also knew how to evaluate its price. The reflection of one of his men appeared next to his on the surface of the glass: -We are ready sir.- -Good. Start bringing up the pieces, I'll join you in a moment.-

Meanwhile, after crawling through the air shaft for a while, Joe, Lucky and Pjotr managed to return to the outside of the tower, finding themselves behind it in the shelter of some wooden crates. -Nat, here we go. How is it going?- asked Dalton. -Give me a minute. These firewalls are tougher than expected.- -Please hurry up- added Luke, -The auction has already started.

Facing the guests seated in the comfortable padded chairs he had provided, Mason grabbed the microphone that one of his assistants was handing him and placed himself behind a pulpit from where he could beat with his mallet. As he delivered his opening speech, the three infiltrators reached the car park again and, passing between cars, found themselves near the entrance where two armed guards were watching the front door.

-We have to knock them out- whispered Joe. -I'll take care of them; you go to the control room- answered Pjotr. -Are you sure?- -I can do it.- He took some small metal balls from his backpack: -I recovered some equipment.- Lucky nodded: -We'll wait for you there, alright?- -Da. Go now, hurry.- He pressed a small button on the spheres and let them roll to the feet of the guards, who didn't see them until a thick whitish smoke began to come out of the two objects with a hissing noise and a powerful jet, enveloping the two armed men and causing them to cough loudly. The smoke allowed Joe and Luke to run to the other side of the car park, but one of the guards saw someone move and pointed his rifle in their direction. But Pjotr, thanks to the poor visibility, managed to reach him and knock him out by hitting him in the base of the neck with a karate chop, then giving the same treatment to the second guard who didn't understand what was going on and shouted in Russian looking for his colleague. They both found themselves unconscious on the ground; Pjotr quickly tied them up and dragged them to a hidden spot. Meanwhile, Dalton and Lucky had managed to approach the control room, where there was commotion, or so it seemed from the window overlooking the inner courtyard. -Nat, we got to where you told us, but there are at least six men and they seem pretty nervous- whispered Luke. -They're onto me; they're trying to throw me out of the system! Neutralise them, quickly!- With great speed, the two burst into the room, pointing their guns, and the former agent ordered the people present something in Russian. One of the group pulled his weapon out of the holster at his side, but was immediately disarmed by Lucky who repeated the order. Everyone put their hands above their heads.

The first piece, a 16th century painting, went under the hammer: -Sold at number ten for one million dollars!- announced Dorian, -We now move on to the second painting, an authentic Caravaggio that escaped a tragic fire in a German museum...-

Tying the six men up and locking them in a small room, Joe commented: -They are not very combative, are they?- Pjotr rushed up to them: -Guards set up!- -Good.- Luke deactivated the firewalls from the central computer: -What do you say, Nat?- -I'm in. I'm taking control of the main systems.- -We'll head up to the top of the tower.- The ex-agent stepped out and looked up, frowning: -And we're ending the game.-

-Sold at number thirty-four for ten million! -Mason concluded on the fourth beat, -The atmosphere is starting to heat up, gents, don't you think?- -You don't know how much, you scoundrel!- shouted a voice from the loudspeakers in the room. There was a general exclamation of surprise, and Dorian was petrified for a moment: -What the hell?-

-Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. The control of this building is now in my and my friends' hands- continued the voice, as the lift opened to let Lucky and Pjotr into the room with guns drawn; the russian had borrowed a rifle from the guards: -FSB, you are under arrest Mason! For theft and illegal trade in works of art, kidnapping and attempted murder!- Dorian's guards grabbed their guns, but Lucky was quick to disarm them: -Stay back. And don't count on backup, the lift is blocked and the security system compromised. It's over, Dorian, you must surrender.- -You think you have the upper hand?- He slipped a hand under his jacket: -I'll blow up the tower if you two don't surrender instead.- -You won't. At least not as long as you stay up here too. Drop the remote and put your hands behind your head now!- -You don't have the authority, not anymore, to give me orders.- -But I do- said Pjotr again, -So obey.-

The criminal raised his hands, but did not let go of the remote control and instead placed it behind his own head, to prevent its eventual destruction: -Luke, this will not end well, and you know it. I only have to press this button to reduce everything to ashes. Even if by luck you were to survive, I don't think the same would happen to your friends.- -I've also considered that possibility.- Lucky lowered his weapon and held out his other hand, taking a step towards the criminal: -That's why I want to give you the chance to surrender nicely. Give me the remote control and let's get out of here without doing any more damage.- -Are you kidding me?- -Dorian, if you really understood your father's teachings you would not have asked me to kill a man just because he is a nuisance to your business.-

The other guests watched the scene without a word, not daring to make a movement. Pjotr remained motionless, ready at the slightest sign of danger.

-... My father would have accepted an honourable surrender, wouldn't he?- -I think so.- A sinister look appeared on his face: -But I am not my father.- He pressed the button on the remote control with his thumb and released it in a split second. Everyone held their breath, terrified, but nothing happened. Mason hissed: -Your time is down to ten minutes now. Choose, Luke: save your and these people's skins or stop me from escaping.- -Hey.- Joe, coming out of nowhere, tapped him on the side with his index finger: -You haven't considered that I'm there, too.- Quickly, he jumped on him and tackled him to the ground, fastening the cuffs on his wrists.

-Where did you come from?!?- Mason looked to his right: his bodyguards were piled up in a human mountain, dazed and moaning in pain. One had a clearly visible black eye. -You were too focused on Luke to notice me, weren't you? Air ducts are good shortcuts, and the one under the floor was very useful.-

-Pjotr, let's get these people out; you in the front row take the unconscious guards, and proceed calmly. Don't panic.- -Nat, the lift!- -Right away, Pjotr.- The hacker opened the sliding doors, and at a brisk pace, but without running, the first people entered the passenger compartment. One of them, however, turned around: -There is a crate of artwork there, what will happen to it if it all blows up?- -And the bunker??- added another, -There are other treasures down there!- -The bunker might withstand a nuclear attack...- mumbled Mason, -But everything will end up under the rubble anyway. And the crates are made of steel...- -Don't think about that now, you must get away!- insisted Lucky. The doors closed again.

-How much longer, Nat?- Joe asked. -You have eight minutes and fifty seconds to get out of there!-

Dorian took advantage of the detective's distraction to shake him off and attempt to run towards the lift, but Luke blocked him by tackling him to the wall with an arm at his throat: -Don't you dare.- -It's no use, you know? You won't leave this place alive...- -Eight minutes and thirty seconds!- -After they are all out it will be our turn. There's time.- -I don't think so...-

-Guys, there's a problem!- exclaimed Nat. -What problem?- -More guards are coming to the ground floor, I can see them from the cameras. They are letting people out of the tower; there are at least fifteen of them and they are well armed!- -Damn it...- Lucky muttered, -Don't give them time to get up there, ok?- -Roger.- -What's going on?- Dalton asked. -What, you didn't hear?- -I lost my earpiece because of this guy.- -We got company. We need a plan.- -How many?- -Fifteen men and as many guns.- -Let's use the lift doors for protection- Pjotr suggested, -We should be sheltered, no?- -You won't make it...- Mason hissed again. The sliding doors opened again, and the detective sent the second group of guests into the passenger compartment.

-We're up next... Nat!- -Seven and fifty minutes, Luke!- -If only the air shaft wasn't so narrow here, we could have used it as an alternative route and avoided a confrontation- commented Joe. -We have no choice.- Lucky removed his arm, dropping Dorian onto the floor: -You're lucky I'm not the type of person to use hostages as a shield.- -Too bad, there would have been fun to be had.- -Joe, Pjotr, take the crate with the paintings and seal it. It should hold, and in case we can retrieve it later.- The two nodded; Nat made himself heard again: -Seven minutes and twenty!- The lift returned.

-Everybody inside, come on!- Dragging their prisoner by weight, the group gathered in the cockpit, checking that their weapons were loaded and ready. -Guys, they're trying to cut me off again! Two men left and headed for the control room!- the hacker announced. -So there are thirteen left...- exhaled Pjotr. -Thirteen, huh?- The detective inserted the full cartridge into his own gun: -My lucky number.-

The armed men occupied every corner of the lobby. They had a good view of the lift doors; all that remained was for them to wait for the intruders, since all the guests had already been evacuated from the place. It was less than seven minutes before the explosion that their leader had largely anticipated.

The lift doors, which came rattling slightly, opened just a crack, and they pointed their rifles. They did not immediately realise that the barrel of an old pistol peeped through the crack; when they heard the sound of a shot, they jumped, but no one seemed to be hurt. However, shortly afterwards two men exclaimed expletives in Russian, and their rifles shattered in their hands. Someone started firing towards the lift, but another shot from inside the cabin disarmed another pair of soldiers in the same way as the previous ones.

-There are nine left!- exclaimed Joe peeking through the crack, loudly to drown out the deafening sound of bullets on metal. -Time's running out, cover me!- Luke replied, going to hit another rifle. Without letting it be repeated twice, Dalton took aim and sideswiped one of the men outside, who flinched, allowing the ex-agent to disarm him: -Minus eight!-

-You have five and a half minutes to leave!- Nat exclaimed into his earphones. Retreating to the shelter of the lift doors, Luke looked at Joe: -We have to risk a sortie.- -I've got your back.- -No. You stay behind with Pjotr and Mason.- -But...-

A second burst of shots rang out, and the russian looked up: -If I survive, I swear I will double my housekeeper's salary!- -You can't do this alone, Luke!- -I can, Joe, if I can borrow your gun. How many bullets you got left?- -Five, I think.- -Good. As soon as the doors open, you and Pjotr run for the exit with Dorian, I'll keep them busy.- -Forget it, I'm not leaving you behind!- -Five minutes!- insisted the hacker. -Joe, I'll catch up with you as soon as I can, but you have to go.- -Sure, those little plugs slip through people's fingers!- Mason said nastily, immediately shushed by the ex-agent: -Shut your mouth!-

-Guys, don't waste time arguing!- -Okay, Nat. On my signal, open the doors, all the way. Joe, if they try to stop you, don't hesitate to hit them hard.- -Sure...- -The gun, Joe.- The detective hesitantly handed him the weapon: -Are you ambidextrous?- -Yes. - -I never would have guessed... Hey, Luke.- -Hmm?- -Whatever happens, I want you to know... it's been a pleasure getting dragged into this mess with you.- -Mutual feeling.- -If we get out of this alive...- -We'll get out of this. And I promise I'll teach you how to dance, Joe.- -What??- -You heard me.- He smiled at him, reassuringly. -Oh, my goodness, get a room, you two...- Dorian muttered.

Lucky stood with his back against one wall of the cockpit, raising his guns: -Let's take a breath, gentlemen: we will remember this action for the rest of our days.- -If you can make it...- continued their prisoner, who was grabbed firmly by Pjotr so that he was on his feet and ready to run. -As soon as they stop firing... Nat, on my go you must open the doors as I told you. Are you there?- -Whenever you want.- The hail of bullets gradually ceased; let another two seconds pass Luke exhaled: -Go!-

When the doors opened, to the amazement of the men outside who had not yet finished reloading their rifles, Joe and Pjotr sprinted out, taking Mason with them, while Lucky, appealing to all his coolness and concentration, quickly aimed and fired at the soldiers' guns, which ended up with pieces of useless scrap metal in their hands. Dalton barely heard the pauses between shots, so quickly they had followed each other; an untrained ear could have been fooled and reduced the sound to a single shot.

At that point, some soldiers approached their opponent cautiously but also threateningly, while three others, who had remained behind, threw themselves in pursuit of the fugitives. Dorian noticed this, and purposely let himself fall forward to try and slow down the other two, but the detective grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him back up: -Oh no, you don't!- Pjotr pointed his rifle at their pursuers and shouted something in Russian, making them stop. They were only a few steps away from the entrance.

One by one, the men who had surrounded Lucky tried to beat him in hand-to-hand combat, but he managed to hold them off by dodging and striking back relying on some exceptional legwork. Nat announced that it was now four minutes until the explosion, so Pjotr, continuing to hold the three at gunpoint, turned to Dalton, stepping to the side: -Get Mason to the car, quick!- Dragging the prisoner by weight, Joe managed to carry him out; the russian walking backwards followed him, and so did their pursuers in an attempt to recover their leader. Luke meanwhile tried to make his way to the entrance, but as he knocked out one opponent immediately another stood before him.

Suddenly, a frightening roar went through the air; the detective had just reached the car with Dorian when that sound made him turn sharply and look upwards: the top of the tower had exploded, and in the flames chunks of concrete were coming down.

-No...We still had time...- -I must have miscalibrated the timers!- Mason said with a cackling laugh. Joe pushed him unceremoniously into the back seat, while Pjotr, seeing that the three soldiers had run away, got into the driver's seat and started the engine.

-Wait, where's Luke??- -I don't know!-

Another roar made them gasp.

-I'm not leaving without him!!- -We must get away or we will be swept away by the rubble!- -You go, I have to find him!- Dalton got out of the car and ran back. -Is he crazy?? He's gonna kill himself!!-

Joe ran with all the speed he was capable of, but the explosions followed relentlessly, filling the air with smoke and debris, cancelling out all sounds, until they reached the ground floor. The detective was knocked backwards by the shockwave like a straw; Pjotr was forced to move away so as not to be swept away in turn, but the blast still managed to jolt the car during the short run to the outside of the area.

Dalton, dazed, had ended up lying on the floor, face up. Gradually recovering, his vision blurred and a dreadfully high-pitched ringing in his ears, he tried to pull himself up to sit up, slowly. Automatically, he touched his head with his hand; when his surroundings came back into focus, he gasped for breath: the burning rubble was all that remained of the building, and high swirls of smoke made the air heavy. -Luke...- he murmured, rising slowly. He staggered for a moment, then tried again in a slightly louder voice: -Luke... Luke!- He began to wander through the piles of debris, calling with all the breath he had: -Luke!!! Where are you!? Answer me!!- Pjotr turned back with the car; he almost tripped over a stone: -Bozhe moy...- -Luke!!- Running from one side of the devastated place to the other, the detective rummaged everywhere in search of his missing friend. In Paris, Nat had been paralysed to helplessly witness the disaster, and stood waiting, terrified and with a lump in his throat.

Joe did not rest, he kept calling and digging through the debris with his hands, scraping his knuckles. Pjotr stood looking at him discouraged for a while before reaching out and trying to give him a hand in his desperate search. -You can't do this to me!- Dalton began to rant, -And not to your family either! Not now that it's over! Do you understand?!? Luke!- -Joe...- tried to say the russian, as the other moved on to a new pile: -You can't be dead! I refuse to believe it!- Pjotr caught up with him but did not dig in: -Joe.- -You are the luckiest man in the world, you can't be dead like this!- He grabbed what looked like a piece of ceiling with all his might, but there was nothing underneath. The other laid a hand on his shoulder: -I'm afraid that instead...- -No!- he growled, turning towards him: -He's here somewhere, I'm sure!- A moment of silence passed, and the detective's aggressive expression turned into a more pained one: -He can't be dead... You understand? He... He must return to Paris... With me... I promised...-

A Lucky Luke Modern!AU fanfiction

Chapter XVIII - Insiders

A beautiful black car, Porsche brand, not convertible, was travelling along a muddy, deserted and still somewhat snow-covered road in the Russian tundra, where the sun was already leaving the cloudy but stable sky to make way for the cold spring evening. The driver had turned the heating up to an acceptable temperature so that his passengers would feel as little of the future temperature change as possible once they got out of the vehicle. They were a young woman in a red dress and a dark grey wool coat and a small man with sunglasses, his hair drawn back and wearing a black suit.

-Are you okay back there?- asked the driver. -Everything's fine, Pjotr- she answered in a gentle voice, -What does the GPS say, how much longer?- -Not much.- -Good. Shall we review the points of the plan, Joe?- -Certainly.- Getting more comfortable in his seat, the detective began: -Pjotr, let's start with you: once you get there, you have to park as close to the entrance as possible; make sure, when we give you the signal, you have to stun the guards. You said you could do that, right?- -Don't worry, I'm ready.- -The two of us meanwhile enter the building, approach Mason and convince him to take us to where he keeps the stolen items...- -And when the time is right we'll knock him out with chloroform- Lucky added, extracting a small bottle with a handkerchief from the handbag resting on his lap. -Pjotr, your signal will come on then. We'll make sure we get to the lift and catch up with you, so we can get away and finally hand Mason over to the authorities.- -Who will then take care of recovering the items for the auction. Excellent!- concluded the russian. -And we'll be able to put an end to this,‖ Luke commented, closing his purse. Joe looked at him: if he hadn't known who was hiding under the make-up and wig, he would surely have mistaken him for a woman, thanks to his altered voice; with a slightly prominent nose, certainly, but no less attractive for that. If Dorian Mason really had a weakness for beautiful girls, he would have taken the bait without any problems.

-What are you going to do next, Luke?- -I don't know yet. Maybe a little trip with my brother. For sure, though, I'll still be living in Paris.- -Oh yeah?- -I like the life I have there with my cousin and Amélie, even if I've had to live it practically half-heartedly because of this situation.- He smiled at him: -But after tonight, there will be no more secrets, no more stealing and no more subterfuge. Lucky Luke will be a closed case, and you won't have any more trouble, Joe.- -Sure...You said it after all...- He had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. -Are you all right?- -Well...-

The car slowed down, and Pjotr called the attention of the two: -Uhm... Guys, you might want to take a look...-

Lucky and Joe leaned out from behind the seats and were stunned: in front of them, a tall concrete tower lit by spotlights and surrounded by a barbed-wire fence, with Cyrillic signs here and there, loomed imposingly against the sky that was now close to darkness. -What the hell is that thing? Wasn't there an underground base here?- exclaimed the detective. Luke, after his initial surprise, muttered: -I told you he was theatrical...- -What do we do now?- -The plan doesn't change. Look.- He pointed with a nod of his head to a spot in front of him: -You see the base of the tower? Doesn't it remind you of anything?- -... He built over the original building.- -It occurs to me that the stolen items are more than we calculated. Dorian Mason wants to get rid of them all at once, then.- He turned on the transmitter hidden in his ear: -Nat, are you there? Do you read me?- -The signal is a bit garbled, but yes. Right on time, my friend.- Dalton made contact himself: -We have arrived. But tell me, do you know anything about towers?-

Two guards escorted them along a spacious lobby that led to a shiny new lift. On either side of this were two others, much older and worn. Once inside, left alone, Luke announced: -This is it, Nat.- They began to ascend. -Great. I'll stand by.- -The lifts to the basement are separate from this one. I think it's going to be hard not to be noticed by the guards when we go back down with Mason- Joe added. -Let's be positive, friends!- said Pjotr, connected to the others by a third earpiece, -As long as Mason is conscious, you'll have no trouble.- -Right.- Lucky examined the handset at his side: -It's automatic. It means we're heading straight to the top floor of this tower.- -I don't like that. It means there's something along the building that Mason doesn't want others to see. I got a bad feeling about this.- -So do I, Joe. Although I hope it's just nerves.-

The lift stopped and the doors opened. The two thus found themselves in a room that bore no resemblance to the exterior façade: furnished in a rich and perhaps somewhat ostentatious taste, it looked like a luxurious penthouse in the big city. Guests who seemed to come from various parts of the world chatted amiably among themselves; loudspeakers scattered in various corners of the ceiling played cheerful and pleasant ambient music. Windows replaced the side walls, giving a 360° view of the tundra, shrouded in darkness. Waiters passed by from time to time with their trays of canapés and glasses of champagne, provided by a kind of bar with a counter.

-Which one is Dorian Mason?- whispered the detective. Luke peered discreetly through the crowd, taking off his coat: -I don't see him... Wait. Over there, by the left window.- Joe noticed a small group of guards intent on listening to a young man with thick, curly black hair combed to the left and falling back in a topknot, smartly dressed. -Him?- -Yes.- -He is younger than I thought.- -Young but experienced in trafficking, thanks to his father's teachings. But as I told you, he doesn't have as many scruples.- A waiter passed in front of them, and the ex-agent grabbed a glass of champagne from his tray: -Let's mix with the other guests and wait a few minutes.- -Good. You look tense, you know?- -You're not?- -Quite. But you're clutching that glass like you want to break it.- -I just feel a certain disgust for what I'm about to do, even if it's necessary.- -Beam Mason?- -Yeah.- He took a small sip from his glass: -Right now I'd like to comply with my brother's request and punch him in the face.- -Think of it as a last ditch effort before you make him pay, Luke.- -Yeah, that's exactly what's keeping me from getting sick to my stomach.-

An hour passed like nothing; in that time, a couple of people approached Miss Aether Smith for conversation. Meanwhile, the two undercovers never lost sight of their target, waiting for Nat to infiltrate the facility's computer systems. In doing so, they gleaned scraps of useful information from the chatter of others: young Mason had purchased the place and the land and had erected that tall tower there in order to better store auction items throughout the underground base, just as they had deduced. In addition, he had modernised the installations for electricity and security for both structures, in order to avoid breakdowns and accidents, and more implied theft.

-What if he installed security cameras in the basement? His men could see what we're doing and stop us from completing our work...- said Joe. -Hear that, Nat?- Lucky muttered to the hacker, -Any ideas?- -From here, there's not much I can do... Even if I can get into their computers, which I'm already trying to do, it'll only be for a short time.- -How long?- -Five minutes.- -Are you kidding? That's too short of a time frame!- objected Dalton, keeping his voice low. -Then you must hurry.- -He's right, Joe, it's time to act.- He looked at Mason, intent on chatting with some men in suits: -This is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done undercover.- He placed the empty champagne glass on the tray of a waiter who passed by them. -You can do it; I'm with you. And if he tries any strange gestures, I will assert my authority as bodyguard.- -Thank you, Joe.- He cleared his throat with a cough and, with an enormous effort of will, began to move towards Dorian Mason, trying to assume the most feminine attitude possible. The detective followed him, watchful.

Dorian almost immediately noticed the slender figure in the red dress emerging from the crowd to approach him; with a wave of his hand he apologised to the others around him and walked over to her: -Do you need anything, miss?- Joe recognised his English accent. Lucky smiled and assumed a slightly flirtatious air: -I just wanted to know from the organiser of this lavish reception when the main event of the evening will begin.- -Miss...- -Aether Smith.- He extended his left hand to him with the intention of exchanging a handshake, but Mason executed a quick and perfect hand-kiss instead. Dalton noticed the equally rapid movement of the corner of Luke's mouth, which betrayed the disgust he had already expressed.

-Miss Smith, the auction won't start for another half hour. Relax, the items in our warehouse aren't going anywhere.- -I don't doubt it; but you see, Mr Mason, before I spend my money, I want to make sure it's worth it. You don't know how many horrors that pass for masterpieces I have seen at these auctions!- -You won't be disappointed, miss, they are all collections with original pieces.- At that point Lucky stepped forward, fluttering his (fake) eyelashes with a flirty smile: -Would it be possible to have a little preview? Just to get an idea of what not to miss tonight.- -And spoil your enjoyment of the surprise?- -Please.- He took him by the arm just as a pretty girl would: -I promise not to touch anything.- -...You win, miss. Come with me.- He turned up his nose at seeing the bodyguard following them: -What about him?- -Steven watches me wherever I go. But don't worry, he's very discreet.- He took a more honeyed tone: -He won't disturb us during our visit.-

Joe clenched his fists, held behind his back: it annoyed him a little that the other man was addressing Mason in that caressing voice, but he said nothing, trying to maintain a demeanour worthy of a real bodyguard, knowing how difficult it was for Luke to pretend like that.

The three returned to the lift, and on the way down the former agent continued the conversation: -Is it true what I heard about you, Mr Mason? That you are a lover of precious gems?- -Dorian, please. And yes, although the real connoisseur was my father. Most of the pieces for sale tonight belonged to him.- -Really? And why do you want to get rid of them?- -You see, miss, I loved my old man, but those items don't represent him. He didn't consider them part of his life either, so much so that some of them have been locked away in some safe for years. I have no use for them, except as a source of income.- -I understand...- He handed quickly the purse to Joe, as they were almost there: -Although you don't seem to have money problems, Dorian.- This one merely chuckled. The lift stopped, and when the doors opened the three of them changed cabins, heading to the left. Pjotr, who remained in the car with a thermos of coffee at hand, waited for the signal. -Hold on, miss. These old lifts are a bit rickety.- He pressed the button for the top floor, the deepest one, and again Joe felt uneasy: the idea of all that distance between them and the outside world gave him a sense of claustrophobia.

The lift rattled and emitted unsettling metallic groans, but fortunately the ride was short. And the scene that presented itself in front of them aroused genuine astonishment in the detective: the walls were lined with showcases full of jewellery of every shape, cut and size, displayed according to whether it was necklaces or bracelets, earrings or individual gems. Not even the exhibition held at Versailles was so rich.

-This is great!- exclaimed Lucky, approaching a shop window. -And it's only one floor, miss. Above us are paintings, statues, and other precious works of art.- Mason turned his back to Joe: -Although right now you look more gorgeous.- -You make me blush, like this...- Luke returned his gaze, shifting his weight to one leg and then hips a little: -I bet you say that to every woman you meet.- Joe, seeing that Dorian wasn't paying attention to him, pulled the chloroform and handkerchief out of his handbag, soaking the latter in the soporific liquid, all in a huff. -Oh, believe me, Miss Smith, mine is a sincere compliment.- He took a step forward; Joe was ready to grab him from behind and knock him out.

But Mason's next sentence chilled the two and almost made Pjotr, still listening, choke on his coffee: -Even if they are traitors.-

Dalton wasted no more time, and jumped on him, but with unexpected force Mason grabbed him and threw him at Lucky, who due to the already precarious balance of those heeled shoes fell backwards and risked running into a display case. The room was filled with armed men, and the two soon ended up surrounded. In the confusion, Joe had lost the chloroform and the purse that contained it, along with his sunglasses.

-Ah, Luke: this disguise of yours is a masterpiece, I have to admit.- Dorian approached him and pulled off his wig: -Too bad I recognised you before we came down here.- The ex-agent said nothing, merely sitting up and giving him a bad look. Mason snatched the necklace from him with a sharp gesture: -The modified voice misled me, you know? Good move.- He dropped the necklace and stepped on it under the heel of his shoe, shattering the larger gem. -You finished?- said Lucky. -How hostile you are. I thought you were more sporting.- He turned his attention to Dalton: -Detective. You, on the other hand, should be rewarded for simplicity, which never goes out of fashion.- -Save the pleasantries, Mason, you just irritate people.- -Very well. So, boys, will you get our guests up?- Two guards obeyed, grabbing the intruders by the arms and holding them back. -Are you going to kill us now? - Luke asked, not losing his cool. -Now? Too easy; traitors must be given an exemplary death.- -You consider me a traitor, but you know perfectly well why I rebelled against your orders.- -Yes. I know.- He shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed as if he regretted it, but on his lips he had a smile: -You should have pulled that trigger and gotten it over with.- -Never.- -I'm surprised you got Detective Dalton involved. Weren't you the lone wolf who didn't want collaborators?- -Your collaborators. Be specific.- -Well, you didn't have to drag him into this suicide mission of yours anyway, because that's what it was all about from the start.- -What do you want to do with us?- Joe added. -Not here. Let's go back upstairs.-

A Lucky Luke Modern!AU fanfiction

Chapter XVII - Exchange Agent

-This is where he lives- Lucky told Joe. -Are you sure you can trust him?- -We were on the same team, although most of the time he was more involved in the tactical side than the actual field action.- -If I understand correctly, he was part of an exchange programme between the FBI and the FSB.- -Yes, and we stayed in touch even after his return. He doesn't know about Mason, though; we'll have to explain everything to him from the beginning.-

They had been watching the entrance to a beautiful building in the city centre for a while, a red and white brick apartment block with rectangular windows. The two of them decided to walk through the ornate glass and dark wood doorway to reach the concierge's desk: -Hello?- A young woman with red, curly hair emerged from under the desk holding binders of documents. Luke greeted her in Russian and asked her a question, to which she answered politely despite the fact that she was in trouble, as the papers escaped from their place at every moment.

-Apartment eleven, third floor.- Entering a vintage lift consisting of a brass-coloured iron cage, the detective and the ex-agent walked towards the upper floors clanking after the former had pressed the corresponding button on the panel to his left. -How come he remained on the sidelines?- continued Dalton. -He was wounded in the leg when he was young, and they put him in the office because he never fully recovered his agility. But he surprised us: he was once allowed to participate in an operation with my team; we needed an extra man on the wiretap van to catch some antique print thieves.- -And how did it turn out?- The lift stopped and Lucky opened the metal gate: -Thanks to him we managed to catch them all, not only because he listened tirelessly to their phone calls for two days, but he single-handedly landed three of them, armed.- They arrived at the wooden door with the golden plaque bearing the number on it: -His most noticeable characteristic is another one, though.- -Which one?- -The incurable optimism.- As they rang the bell, which rang slightly, a woman of robust build, a little short, wearing a house dress and a white apron, came to open the door, her dark eyes gazing suspiciously at the two strangers, a white handkerchief on her head covering her hair, and in her hand a broom held more like a stick ready to strike than a cleaning tool.

Luke started talking to the woman, who responded in a hostile tone; Joe asked his companion: -What is she saying?- -That our friend isn't home and that we have to come by later. But she doesn't seem to be telling the truth; I'll try to convince her.- Resuming the conversation, of which the detective caught only Luke's name, the woman threatened them by shaking the broom in their direction. But a male voice intervened from inside the flat and caused her to walk away; shortly afterwards a man, a little taller than Joe, looking lively, with white hair kept to a medium length and combed back, greeted them warmly: -I thought I knew that voice!- he said, in English with a very strong Russian accent, -Luke, my friend!- -Hey, Pjotr!-The two exchanged a handshake and a pat on the back: -How are you doing?- -Oh, just fine. Since they transferred me to the new section I have a lot more time to devote to my... how do you say? Hobbies, yes. But please, have a seat. Who's your friend, Luke?- -Detective Joe Dalton, Paris police, nice to meet you- the latter introduced himself with a handshake. -Paris police? Are you in trouble, Luke?- -I'm trying to get out of it, actually.- -So that's why you disappeared for a year?- -Exactly.- -Well, tell me all about it then. Can I offer you a little vodka?-

Pjotr listened very carefully to the story of his two guests, sipping his glass of liquor from time to time. Lucky concluded his speech with the offer he had wanted to make to his former Russian colleague from the start: -We can't steal a vehicle fast enough by carrying Dorian Mason around on our backs, we'll risk getting caught before we succeed. We need someone on the outside who is ready with a getaway car.- -We wanted to do it ourselves, but...- Joe threw in, turning his glass over in one hand, undecided whether to venture to taste the vodka or leave it untouched. -And you want me to be that someone?- -You are the only one I trust, Pjotr, and besides, I remember your reckless manoeuvres well.- -I don't know what you are talking about...- He took a sip from the glass, nervous. -Yes, after your intervention with those thieves you were permanently assigned to our tactical van, and thanks to you we never missed any suspects at that time. Both figuratively and literally.- -Wait, you mean he was your "pursuit driver"?- The detective was surprised. -If you want to call him that. Didn't I say that?- -But that was a long time ago, Luke. I haven't touched a steering wheel in years.- -You'll just have to get us away from there before the guards realise Mason's gone, that's all I'm asking.-

Pjotr stared at the floor for a while, pondering the proposal. Finally he placed the glass of vodka on the small table beside him: -Fine, my friend, but on one condition.- -I am listening.- The other smiled: -Can I rent a chauffeur's uniform? It would make me feel like an undercover agent again!- Lucky chuckled: -Of course!-

Joe was relieved. Distractedly, he took a sip of liquor from his glass, but immediately regretted it: it was so strong that he felt like he was swallowing fire; he started coughing and Luke tapped him on the back with his hand. -Detective, are you all right?- -Excuse me, Pjotr, he is not used to strong flavours.- -This is very strange. This vodka has one of the lightest gradations- he said, holding the bottle in his hand. "And thank goodness!!!" Dalton managed to think with his stomach screaming for help, his face on fire as well as his throat.

-You want an anti-acid, Joe?- -I'm fine.- Back at the hotel, the detective went to throw himself on the bed with his face into the pillow. The incendiary effect of the vodka had worn off, but his head was spinning. Lucky knew he still felt sick, but the other didn't want to admit it. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, next to Dalton, he tried to insist: -Are you sure you don't want anything?- -Yes, I just need to take it easy for a while.- Joe's voice was slightly muffled by the fabric of the pillow. Luke, uncertain of the detective's reaction, placed a hand on his shoulder: -All right. I'm here, though, if you need anything.- Joe wanted him to stay there, but he didn't answer, merely mumbling: -Only a sissy can't handle a little vodka...-

Lucky got up and headed for his suitcase: -Get your rest. I'll go back to work on our plan.-

Dalton not only rested, but after a few minutes fell into a state of deep drowsiness, until he fell asleep completely. When he awoke, his mouth slurred and his head aching, he realised that hours had passed: it was now dark outside; the city lights illuminated the room between the rows of blinds. -Luke...?- Joe's hoarse voice broke the silence in vain; the former agent seemed absent. He tried to get up, but as soon as he sat on the edge of the bed he was seized with dizziness and fell backwards. He tried to call again, a little louder: 

A Lucky Luke Modern!AU fanfiction

Chapter XVI - Miss Smith

-Let's go back to the points of the plan.- Early in the morning, Joe and Luke had started to study the plans of what they understood to be an underground base: an external first floor served as the entrance, but most of the structure had been built at the bottom, counting some ten floors joined by two lifts, one on the north side and one on the south side. The names of the various rooms, in Cyrillic, were those of the time of construction: the lowest level was the prison, above it two floors constituted the soldiers' quarters, another the kitchen and canteen; the common room, armoury and officers' quarters were located higher up. Below the entrance was an empty level, simply called "ST", and Lucky suggested that it would probably be used as a reception area for guests.

-The only way to get from one floor to another are these lifts. Assuming they're guarded, the only way to get Mason out is to create a diversion; but before that: how do we get him away from the party?- -I can take care of that, Joe. I brought my best costumes for that.- -Good. And for the guards?- Lucky stared at the computer screen for a long time. -The fire alarm? That could be a great distraction.- -No. We cannot predict the reactions of the guests. If they blocked the entrance to the lifts en masse, that would be trouble. Hmm... What about trying to get out more discreetly using Mason of all people?- -Explain yourself better.- -The dungeons...- Joe pressed the button to zoomed in on the plan on the screen from the keyboard, -they're ideal for storing items to sell. If we could convince Mason to take us there for a quick preview, let's call it that, he'd have to take us down in the lift. But once we're there, we'll stun him, get him back into the cabin and ride up to the main entrance, moving in the shadows with our man; from there, stealing a vehicle and slipping out should be easy. What do you think?- -That sounds like a good plan. We have to make it foolproof, though.- Someone knocked on the door of the room; a boy's voice announced something in Russian.

-I'll go.- Lucky opened the door, tipped what Dalton identified as a bellhop, thanked him, and returned with a yellow paper bag in his hand. -What is it?- -Our ticket, literally. I contacted an old friend who owed me a favour; in here is our invitation to the auction.- -Is it a fake?- -Only for the names. Let's say that honour among thieves is not dead yet.- He left the envelope on the table, next to the computer: -I'll go prepare our disguises.-

Curious, the detective immediately opened the yellow paper with his index finger and pulled out a white card with a gold border. In the centre was written in fine cursive "Miss Aether Smith and companion". -Hey, Luke, how come there's a woman's name here?- asked Joe, looking up just in time to see the other pull a dark red dress with shoulder pads out of the suitcase: -How do you say?- -But... What about that?- -It's my disguise.- -Are you joking?- -No. It's the best option to get Mason to do what we want; he has a thing for pretty girls.- -How do we deal with the fact that you don't exactly have a female voice?- -That's where Nat's technology comes in.- From the suitcase he took a silver necklace with a large diamond in the centre: -Inside the gem there's a voice converter connected wirelessly to a waterproof microphone to be placed under the tongue. Once calibrated, it will transform my voice into that of a woman.-

-Ah. Ingenious. And what will you do for the body?- -Body?- -You're thin and have no curves.- -Oh. For that I have the right "padding". If you give me some time to change, I'm sure I'll amaze you.- -It'll be a sight to see how you try to pull up your stockings!- Dalton joked, but Lucky denied him with his forefinger: -I'm going to the bathroom; it's a delicate operation.- -Whatever. One last question, though: what is that "companion" supposed to stand for?- -Bodyguard. A rich, lonely young woman at a party is likely to have unwanted encounters, don't you think?- he joked. -Just as long as you don't make me wear weird wigs.- -An Afro with curls, for example?-The ex-agent chuckled. -Don't worry, I was thinking of something more discreet.-

-Good.- The Skype icon flashed on the computer screen, and when Joe went to open it, the big smiling faces of his brothers filled the entire webcam window, then they exclaimed: -Hey!!!- -I only see your noses. How's it going?- -Everything's fine!- said Averell, and then turned to his own right, -Come on, Betty, we made it!- -I'm coming!-The psychologist's voice anticipated his entry into the field of vision: -Hi!- -How is the plan going?- William asked. -We are putting the finishing touches before we go into action. Less than four days to go now.- -You know, the boss started asking questions about your absence- said Jack, a little worried, -We told him that you're following a lead on Lucky Luke and that you're checking its validity, like you told us to do.- -Good. Keep telling everyone that. But let's change the subject; Averell, Betty: you have something different.- The two of them took each other by the hand: -Actually, Joe, something has happened!- exclaimed the younger man, and she brought her left hand closer to the screen: a pretty little diamond ring was showing off around her ring finger. Joe's jaw seemed to almost drop in surprise, and he slowly smiled as he recovered: -Nooo... That's my little brother! So now it's official!- -Yes!- exclaimed Betty, bursting with joy from every pore and hugging her boyfriend. -But how? I go away for a day and there you get married?- -It's just the proposal, Joe- retorted Jack. -Whatever.- -We still have to decide the date and other details- continued Averell, -but we've already decided that all three of you will be my groomsmen!-

Before Dalton could answer, Lucky called him from the bathroom: -Joe! Can you come in for a moment?- -Excuse me guys, I'll just be a minute.- -Go ahead, we have to get back to work anyway- said William, -Catch you later!-

-See you later.- He closed the window and joined the other: -What's going on?-He was wide-eyed at seeing Luke wearing that suit. He had already adjusted the chest and bottom prostheses, as well as pulled up the smoky grey tights; the heels that matched the dress lay dishevelled next to the dirty laundry basket. Neatly arranged on the sink top were make-up and three women's wigs in different colours. Lucky's back was to him, and he did not see his expression. -The zip on the dress is jammed; will you help me?- the ex-agent continued, holding up the bodice of the dress. Without saying a word, Joe walked over to him and started fiddling with the little zip that just wouldn't budge. Eventually, however, he managed to slide it upwards: -Done.- -Thank you very much. One last thing.- Still without looking at him, he pointed to the wigs: -Which one inspires you more? A saucy blonde or a seductive brunette?- -Uh... Brunette. I don't see you as blonde.- -Good.- When he finally turned towards the detective, he noticed that he had a strange face: -Are you all right? You're all red.- Without answering, Dalton walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him, then inhaled deeply and exhaled forcefully, undecided whether to collapse or burst out laughing.

A Lucky Luke Modern!AU fanfiction

Chapter XV - Hustle and Bustle

-Are you sure you want to go alone, Joe?- Averell murmured, perhaps for the tenth time; he was watching his older brother as he packed his luggage. -Yes. I don't want anything to happen to you guys, you'll stay here and protect Cheyenne and Amélie; in the unfortunate event that something goes wrong Mason might come after them.- -I understand, but...- -Don't worry, Averell.- He sat down on top of the suitcase to close it: -Betty will cover my absence at the department and- Damn these zips!- -Russia is far away, and I don't know if in the tundra the mobile phone gets reception. What will you do if you get in trouble?- -Nat said he had it under control.- -Joe...- -What?- He was tempted to slap him, but only because he was already fighting with the suitcase. -I don't want anything to happen to you either.- Faced with Averell's puppy-dog expression, the detective tried to reassure him by bringing up an old story: -Do you remember when I was shot?- -Yes, you were wounded in the side. But that was when you were still a cop.- -And untrained in the field. Have I ever since failed to pay attention, whether I was on duty or not?- -No.- -That is because leaving my brothers alone is not in my plans.- The younger one smiled: -Really?- -Who would look after you otherwise?- Continuing his struggle with the zip of the suitcase, he added: -You can rest assured, everything will be fine. Besides, I am not alone, I have the luckiest man in the world with me!- -And with the best aim I've ever seen- William intervened as he entered the room, -Are you sure you got everything?- -Yes. But this stupid bag isn't cooperating! Let's do this: you two sit on it, I'll try to close it.-

Meanwhile, Lucky was also packing. Not knowing what kind of weather they would find when they arrived, he had organised himself with a few lighter and heavier clothes, plus a laptop, make-up material and two or three disguises. He closed his suitcase and exhaled: -This is it, then. Let's hope it all goes well.- -Don't worry, you'll make it, I'm sure- replied Cheyenne, who had remained silent until that moment at the door watching him. -I don't doubt it, but... I was thinking about how Joe is going to explain everything afterwards.- She smiled: -He knows how to keep his bosses cool, William told me.- -Yeah.- He smiled in return, turning back to look at the suitcase on the bed: -Joe is good at dealing with superiors. I learned that in a year.- -Are you ever going to tell him?- -What?- -How did you manage to keep an eye on him the whole time.- -I already have an idea on how to make him figure it out for himself. This is going to be fun. But only after we wrap this up.- Cheyenne tightened in her arms: -Just please be careful, okay?- -I promise.- He turned again, responding to his cousin's apprehensive expression with a reassuring one. Amélie rushed into the room: -Uncle Luke! Uncle Luke! Is it true you're going to Russia with Uncle Joe?- -Yes, it's true.- The little girl jumped up on the spot, stretching her arms high in the air: -Are you taking the plane?- -Yes.- He lifted her up holding her, and she continued: -Will there be snow?- -I'm not sure.- -And polar bears?- -Maybe the abominable snowman is more likely, dear.- Amélie laughed: -But no! That one lives in the Himalayas! I read it in a book at school!-

All assembled at the airport, the Dalton brothers, Cheyenne, Betty and Nat were ready to say goodbye to Joe and Lucky, while Jolly Jumper insisted on accompanying them at all costs; in the end, the older brother managed to talk him out of it. Nat handed his friends some new transmitters: -They are like little earphones; a model borrowed from the US army. They are practically invisible, and have a better range.- -Perfect.- The detective turned to the brothers: -I entrust matters here in Paris to you. Protect Cheyenne and Amélie, understand? And do not get into trouble in my absence.- The three performed an clumsy military salute; one could see that Averell had tears in his eyes. Jolly gave a final recommendation to Luke: -Punch Dorian Mason in the face for me.- -Of course I will.- The two hugged each other quickly, and with a pat on the shoulder the younger man turned away, straining to resist the urge to dash to the gate and go with them. Cheyenne ran up to her cousin and squeezed him tightly without a word, then did the same to Joe, whispering to him though: -Get back in one piece you two.- -Count on us.- Watching them walk away towards the boarding point, Betty squeezed Averell's hand, trying to reassure herself and him. -Let's go with Nat- Jolly said once his brother was out of her sight, -Now all we have to do is wait.-

The flight lasted about three hours, during which a major disturbance was caused by the child sitting behind Joe, who was kicking the detective's seat and doing nothing but asking his mother when they would arrive. -I can't stand it any longer...- Dalton hissed at one point, addressing Luke, who was sitting next to him and looking out the window lost in thought. -You want to trade, Joe?- -I'll spare you the torment. I think I'll slip into the plane's toilet and I won't come out until we get to our destination.- Lucky chuckled: -I wouldn't. These toilets are often used for the romantic encounters of travelling couples, didn't you know?- -Balls.- -It's true. Two months ago a case ended up in the newspaper of two newlyweds on their honeymoon, who, unable to stop themselves, locked up in the aeroplane's bathroom, and the stewardess caught them in the act!- -You're just inventing that!- Dalton laughed; a gust of wind caused the plane to sway slightly, and the detective suddenly clutched at the armrests of the seat and assumed a terrified expression.

-It's just a slight turbulence- observed Luke. -I have to confess something to you: I'm very afraid of flying. I took a sedative before we left but I'm worried the effect is wearing off...- -Why didn't you tell me?- -Because the plane is the fastest way to get to Russia...- He began to break out into a cold sweat and a greenish hue. -Oh, Joe...- -We would have wasted too much time...Oh no, here comes the jitters...- He felt pathetic at that moment, and the second turbulence only made it worse.

Then Lucky did something unexpected: he took his hand with his own, squeezing it tightly, and at Dalton's surprised expression he smiled: -It's all right. Aeroplanes are still the safest means of travel; try to relax.- -Uhm...- -If it makes you feel better, I can continue to hold your hand until we land.- The detective couldn't tell if he was joking or serious, but to be sure, he didn't let go: that contact had the extraordinary ability to make him feel better. Or at least, to distract him. Yes, because his heart began to beat for something that wasn't terror, and it didn't stop until they arrived at the Moscow airport, when he was forced to let go to get off the plane.

Considering that spring was coming to an end, they were greeted by a heavy freezing rain; they retrieved their luggage and jumped into the first taxi they could find and Lucky promptly gave the driver the address of the hotel, in Russian. Joe looked at him: -I know agents must speak many languages, but how do you know Russian so well?- -I also know Italian, as well as English and French, and some basic Chinese. And not all agents have a flair for it, for languages I mean.- -You seem to have a flair for everything, Lucky, let me tell you.- -Not everything.- He looked at him with a smirk: -I'm a terrible gardener!- Dalton laughed.

Arriving at the hotel, as soon as they opened the door to their room Lucky felt a shift of air and a slamming door; Joe had rushed into the bathroom, he had been holding it for the entire second half of the trip: -I'll be done in a moment!- Luke rolled his eyes with an amused grin, picked up the suitcases and laid each one at the foot of a bed. He heard the sound of a toilet flush and saw Joe return: -Yours.- -Do you feel better?- -Definitely.- He began to remove some dry clothes from his suitcase as the other entered the bathroom. Dalton allowed himself a glimpse of the room: a brightly decorated double; orange curtains and bedcovers illuminated the white-walled room adorned with floor-to-ceiling wooden panels. The light wood furniture denoted a simple yet harmonious taste. The heating took some of the chill off the detective, but a shiver reminded him that if he didn't want to get sick, he should take a nice hot bath. However, he heard the running of water coming from the room where Lucky was. Joe huffed: he had anticipated him. Still determined to get warm, he grabbed his bathrobe from his suitcase and went to knock on the door, to which Lucky replied: -Wait a minute!- -I just wanted to tell you not to take too long, I'm freezing.- -If you wait a minute, you can come in; did you see that there's both a bath and a shower here?- -Is there a curtain? I didn't pay much attention to it.- -Yes.- -Then I'm coming in.- -Joe, wait!- Too late. The detective opened the door as Lucky was getting into the tub; the latter jumped down on his seat, turning as red as a tomato: -Oh, come on!- The water splashed on the floor.

Dalton, with the same tone of colour in his face, mumbled what sounded like an apology and stepped into the shower after taking off his shoes, pulling the curtain. As he peeled off his clothes, he threw them through the gap between the plastic panels that formed the cabin. Picking up a bar of soap that smelled like vanilla, Luke broke the silence: -Later we have to connect with Nat. He told me before we left that he had found some material useful for our purposes, but that he needed time to get hold of it.- -All right. Hey, is there a restaurant here at the hotel?- The former agent frowned: Joe had changed the subject very abruptly. However, he gave him an answer: -No, there isn't.- -Are you sure?- -I made the reservation; I'm sure. They only offer breakfast at the bar downstairs.- -I understand. So we'll have to go out to eat. How many hours difference between Paris and Moscow?- -I think... Yes, two hours if I am not mistaken.- -Then I'll give Nat until eight o'clock to call.- -Why?- Joe turned the hot-water knob: -Because tonight is on me.-

Nat made the connection via Skype at five o'clock, Paris local time. Cheyenne was next to him, and greeted Joe vigorously as soon as the latter's face appeared in the frame of the screen: -How was your trip?- -Chilling. Next time I think of travelling, I'll hitch a ride.- -We have what you need- the hacker added, typing a command on the keyboard, -The coordinates correspond to a former military building belonging to what was the Soviet regime after the Second World War. I found some floor plans in an archive; fortunately there is a trend to digitalise even documents from the past. You will have to memorise these files well if you want to go out with Mason undisturbed.- -I got it. They just arrived.- Lucky appeared behind him, tying a dark blue tie around his neck: -Joe, we have to go, or we'll be late.- -Hi, secret agent!- joked Cheyenne. Luke flanked Dalton and greeted his cousin, who continued: -How is Russia?- -Cold and damp. It has been raining since we arrived.- -Are you going out?- -Yes. There's a restaurant we wanted to try in the area; according to the online guide, it prepares typical dishes.- -Hey, you two...- mumbled Joe; they were not there on holiday. The ex-agent, still not catching the meaning of the sentence, added: -But if we don't hurry up, they'll give away our table; talk to you later, ok?- -All right!- -Thanks for the plans, Nat. See you again. And say hi to my brothers.- Dalton ended the communication by waving one last goodbye to the two on the other side of the screen.

The taxi took them right in front of the restaurant; the Cyrillic sign was not translated and the detective did not even try to understand it. The interior of the restaurant was almost borderline modern elegance, with soft lighting and dark furniture brightened by the whiteness of the tablecloths and cushions on the chairs. Luke looked confused: -How strange... It doesn't look at all like the guidebook described.- Joe felt he was going to have to regret his generosity: it seemed an expensive place. He hoped they accepted credit cards. Leaving their coats, they were escorted by a waiter to their table; as soon as they were seated, two other attendants brought them menus. On seeing the prices Joe restrained himself from shouting robbery, but not Lucky, who exclaimed in a low tone: -Man! Are you kidding me? When does typical cuisine cost so much?- -I don't know...- -You know what? -He closed the menu: -The online guide can go to hell; I have to think it was out of date. Let's leave the table to those who can afford to get fleeced! Are you with me?- Astonished, Dalton nodded; the ex-agent got up and went to talk to the manager, followed by the detective who understood nothing of the conversation in Russian between the two, the fact is that they were given their coats back and shortly afterwards found themselves outside in the cold Moscow glistening with rain, falling in tiny, thick drops. -But what did you tell them?- -A plausible excuse to get away with it.- -What now?- Lucky pondered, thrusting his hands into his coat pockets and threw in: -I feel like eating spaghetti.-

An Italian restaurant two blocks away solved their dinner problem. And it made Joe's task of paying the bill less burdensome; glancing at the prices, the detective removed the image in his head of money winging its way out of his pocket. The waiter brought them two beautiful plates of Italian spaghetti bolognese, and grabbing his fork Luke exclaimed: -Good appetite!- -To you.- As he was enjoying the first bite, Joe heard giggling behind him, and turning for a moment he saw two girls, both blond and a little ugly, talking to each other in Russian and pointing at him in a not very discreet manner. Lucky gave them a bad look. -What are they saying?- Dalton asked. -Nothing. They are just teasing you, leave them alone.- -What?- -Forget it, I said.- But at the umpteenth sentence the two exchanged, Luke grew impatient and said something to them in their own language. The girls suddenly fell silent.

Joe stared at the other, greatly puzzled, but decided to change the subject rather than insist: -So... how about we talk together about some ideas on how to-- -Let's try to eat first, shall we? The brain works better when your stomach is full.- He looked annoyed. And that usually happened to Dalton, who mumbled: -Sure, fine. Sorry.- After a while, Lucky exhaled: -No, I'm sorry. Those two made me nervous.- -But what did they say? If it was insults or nasty comments, I've heard it all before.- -I'll explain later.-

Out of the corner of his eye, Dalton saw the two blondes get up from the table and go to the toilet. By the time they returned, the two friends had finished their spaghetti. A guy bigger than Ivor and with more hair entered shortly afterwards and approached Lucky and Joe's table with a threatening air. He said something in his own language to the former officer, who replied calmly, put down his own glass of water and stood up facing the giant, who continued speaking with a growl every few words. The detective sensed an air of brawling, and tried to intervene: -Hey, whatever is going on, tell him we don't want any trouble... I'll get the coats...- But the guy laughed in his face, scornfully, and maliciously addressed him with one word: -Blokha.-

Joe didn't even realise it because it was a matter of a second, but with a right hook under the chin and a left hook in the stomach, Luke managed to wobble that human wardrobe, which nevertheless kept its balance. 

Then Lucky, realising his mistake, grabbed Dalton by the arm, dragging him out of the club like a flag: -Go!!!-

Regardless of the rain, which had started to pour harder again, without looking back and running at breakneck speed down the street, the former officer tightened his grip and clutched the detective in his arms, who in turn held onto both of their coats. The giant began to chase them, babbling in Russian, and Dalton prayed that his friend's long legs were fast enough. Splashing the water from the puddles with each stride, Lucky swerved into a narrower alleyway, which led them like a shortcut to another main street where an evening market had been set up; there were a lot of people around the stalls lit by rows of yellow bulbs.

-What now?- asked Joe looking left and right, still holding on tightly to Luke who was panting from the run.

Their pursuer's voice reached behind them, echoing off the walls.

-Forget it, just keep running!!!-

Throwing themselves into the crowd, the two of them went against the current for a while to blend into the middle, amidst the protests of the people, until they slipped between two very narrow walls, finding themselves squeezed like sardines in front of each other. Luke exclaimed: -Help me lift my coat; it is black, it will hide us!- Grabbing the collar of this one, the detective prayed it would work. They heard the footsteps of their pursuer, an angry growl from him, and then more footsteps moving away.

They waited another two minutes before leaving, during which Joe asked again in a low voice: -You can tell me now: why did you get so nervous?- -Do I have to answer you now?- -We're here, face to face, being chased by a fierce gorilla and soaked with rain to the bone; I'd say an answer is the least, Lucky.- -All right, fine. Those two were making jokes about your height.- -So what?- -They were pretty mean, I don't know... I don't think I should give them a second thought.- -Tell me at least one. It's no big deal.-

Sighing, Luke seemed to seek the strength to repeat those words aloud: -They wondered why so small you weren't... in a child's high chair.- Dalton blinked a couple of times: -Oh. I admit I missed that one. And you answered them back sharply, didn't you?- -Sure. I said “And I wonder why two snakes like you aren't wallowing in a pond of slime”.- -Really??- -Translated nicely; I'm not sure if I said "snakes" or "toads". I had no idea they were the sisters of our big guy.- -Ah, that's why he started threatening you. And why did you hit him?- -Blokha means “flea”. It was the last straw.- -Let me understand... We are in this situation because you stood up for me?- Lucky finally smiled: -Yes. It seemed clear to me that your stature was a sore point for you; I don't like it when they insult my friends.- The detective lowered his gaze: apart from his brothers, no one had ever done anything like that for him. -Are you all right, Joe?- -Yeah, just...- He gave him a smile, sarcastic: -Next time you think of hitting a guy like that, aim right for the solar plexus; I think you tickled him!- Luke laughed: -I'll try to remember that!-

When the receptionist at their hotel saw them return, he was horrified: -Holy heavens, what happened to you?- -The rain caught us by surprise and without an umbrella- the detective briefly explained; both were dripping water from their hair and clothes, -The key, please.-

Back in the room, they closed the door behind them, looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing almost in unison. After a while, Lucky tried to catch his breath: -Not bad for a... first day in Russia!- -Yeah! It's good to make new friends!- Joe answered in reply, taking off his soaked jacket, -I thought the trouble would come later, Luke!- The latter looked at him: -You called me by my first name.- Dalton stopped laughing, -Really? I didn't... notice that.- The former agent smiled softly: -That's nice, you know? It means you trust me now.- The detective turned his back on him, just to not let him see that he was blushing: -What, are you psychoanalyzing me like Betty now?- Chuckling, the other changed the subject: -I'll get some towels. We can't afford colds.- -There's a couple in my suitcase, take a good look.- Unfastening the belt of his trousers, he stopped: he couldn't undress in front of the other. -I... I'm going to the bathroom, just a moment.-

But he found himself with a towel over his head blocking his view, and someone from the outside vigorously massaging his hands to dry his hair. When a flap of the towel lifted, he saw Lucky smiling at him: -You look like a little ghost like that!- -Don't make fun of me...- Joe looked away, turning red in the face, grabbed the towel and walked briskly to the bathroom, but Luke was just in time to answer him: -I would never make fun of you.-

Closing the door behind him, Dalton tried to calm his heartbeat.

He had been too kind. Too much.

He tried to catch his breath to calm himself, but it was useless. He was having that feeling again from when Lucky had hugged him, when for who knows what reason he had confessed his insecurity about his height to him.