"How old are you?"

Hillinger chuckled. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"I don't know. I just thought-I don't know what I was thinking. I mean-"

"You thought I was a kid?"

"Well…"

"You thought I was a virgin?"

"Umm…" Against his will, Patrick started to smile.

"I know, you thought I was straight," Hillinger crowed triumphantly.

"Yeah. No. All of the above?" Patrick shook his head. Everything he'd believed had been turned upside down and inside out. All in the space of twenty-four hours.

Hillinger carded the lock outside his quarters and gently shoved Patrick inside. After carefully re-locking the door behind him, Hillinger began unbuttoning his shirt.

Patrick held up his hands as if to ward off the younger man's advances. "Hey, I mean-"

"Ah, ah, ah," Hillinger warned, waving a finger at Patrick. "You can't cut and run on me now, Paddy."

"But we're not-"

"Lovers? I beg to differ, man. I think sucking your dick qualifies as sex, don't you?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"What? I don't have an equal right to get off?"

"Last time I looked this wasn't a democracy, kid. And why the hell are *you* pushing *me* around?"

"I told you. I am going to fuck the living daylights out of you."

"That's what you think."

"Hey, you like it rough? Sounds like fun. Let me go get my handcuffs."

Patrick's handsome face was suffused with color. In truth, it was an appalling shade somewhere between purple and red. "I don't bottom for *anyone*."

"You will," Hillinger stated confidently.

"I don't even like you."

Hillinger smiled and began advancing on the older man. As Hillinger closed in on him, Patrick backed up. "That's okay. I get that a lot. I'm used to it."

Hillinger's blithe tone couldn't quite hide an underlying sadness, a sadness that caught Patrick's unwilling attention. Resignation wasn't exactly the same thing as acceptance. "You have friends, though."

"Not really," Hillinger tossed off. He moved past Patrick and entered the kitchen. Heaving a sigh, he pulled open the refrigerator door and searched for something. When he found it, he threw a cold can of beer to Patrick. Patrick automatically caught the beer, watching as Hillinger poured himself a tall glass of cold milk.

"You *are* a kid. I knew it!"

"What? Only kids drink milk? I'm 19."

"Fuck, I'm almost 30."

"I won't hold it against you."

"I bet you *are* a virgin, too."

Hillinger blew him a raspberry, which unfortunately did give him the appearance of a rather unruly little boy. "Am not."

"You sure you're not really straight?"

"The way I went down on you didn't convince you? Do I look like a natural? Or just a talented amateur?"

"It's exhausting trying to keep up with you. I can't even imagine what you're like in bed."

"Really? I could swear that's all you've been thinking about since I-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, kid. You give good head. Stop reminding me."

"Why? You getting hard? That's the idea, babe. Now get your ass in bed."

"You and what army?"

Hillinger cocked his head as if he were actually contemplating the question seriously. "Nah, not into group scenes."

"You can't make me do any-"

"I can make you do anything I want, Paddy. I know more about you than your mom does. Including who's running you."

"You don't know that. You can't possibly know that. You haven't left my side once. You're bluffing."

"I don't need a computer to *think*, Paddy. Believe it or not, some of us use our heads for more than hat racks."

"You don't need to fuck me then. You've already got what you came for. Turn me loose. Watch me twist slowly in the wind."

Hillinger folded his arms over his chest. "Now who's being a drama queen?"

Patrick fixed his clear green-eyed gaze on the Comm op. "Just tell me one thing. Why are you doing this?"

"I want you," Hillinger said, dropping all pretense.

"You can't always get what you want."

"I know," Hillinger whispered. "But just this once…" His voice trailed off and suddenly Patrick found himself possessed by an unreasoning passion for him.

He was such an odd combination of youth and maturity. Equal parts cynic and innocent. Patrick knew, deep down in his heart of hearts *knew* that he was being manipulated, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He told himself that if his cover was blown, it didn't matter. He could use someone with Hillinger's connections to keep him alive.

Oh, yeah, he'd lied about being well-connected. But he had a feeling that Hillinger knew that, too.

"So…who do I have to fuck to get outta this place?"

Hillinger brightened. "Could you stay the night?"

"Don't I look a bit old for a pajama party, kid?"

"Riight." Hillinger turned away, but not before Patrick saw the disappointment on his face. "Why would you want to *talk* to me? It's not like a date or anything."

Appalled that he had actually managed to reveal something about himself without intending to, Hillinger rapidly backtracked. "So…let's get naked." His smile didn't reach his eyes and Patrick wished he could take back what he'd said.

"Hey."

"Hey what?" Hillinger asked, puzzled.

And Patrick kissed him.

He wasn't sure who was seducing who anymore, but he had to have him. "Kid…"

Suddenly Hillinger wasn't annoyed by the nickname at all. On Patrick's lips, it sounded almost like an endearment.

Somehow they made it as far as the bed without coming up for air. Their mouths still sealed together, they tumbled onto their sides on the rumpled comforter that covered the bed. Finally breaking apart, they plunged eager hands into the task of removing each other's clothing as quickly as possible.

Hillinger's fingers found the nape of Patrick's neck and beat a tattoo against the tender skin there. Gradually insinuating himself into a comfortable position atop Patrick, Hillinger savored the feel of the muscular man under him. His chest was well-furred, the hair there a darker blond than his head. Hillinger experimentally suckled a flat brown nipple, heartened when it stood erect beneath his ministrations. He rubbed his cheek against the impertinent peak, smiling as he realized that *he* provoked this.

"Mmm, you feel so good."

"I could say the same thing," Patrick said huskily. His hands traced their way down Hillinger's naked back to his well-rounded ass. "You fit against me so well."

Hillinger lay his head down on Patrick's chest and smiled. He could pretend, just for a few minutes, that he really belonged to Patrick. That Patrick belonged to him.

So this was what it felt like to have someone. Oh, God, he could get used to this.

"Don't go." Hillinger winced. He hated the sound of his voice when he whined.

Patrick stood at the side of the bed, darkness enveloping most of his half-dressed body. He pulled his shirt over his head without saying a word. As the seconds ticked by, Hillinger grew more anxious.

When he was fully dressed again, Patrick took a deep breath. "I know you can make life difficult for me if you want to. But don't."

Suddenly Hillinger was glad that it was dark. Patrick wouldn't be able to see how deeply affected he was by his words. When he could trust his voice, Hillinger rasped, "Act like we never met, right?"

Patrick felt something deep inside of him give way and he almost crumbled. "Yeah, that's right."

"It was that bad?"

No, kid, it was that *good*, Patrick mentally corrected. You scare the hell out of me. Sex is one thing. Love…he had no reason to expect anything approximating love. Not here in Section.

"Don't blame yourself, kid. It was your first time." Patrick felt unbelievably guilty for letting Hillinger believe that his technique left something to be desired. But better that than the alternative.

"You came."

"Yeah, well…" Patrick shrugged, helpless to explain any further without exposing his very real vulnerability to the younger man.

Tears welled up in Hillinger's dark eyes. "You're a fucking liar," he whispered.

Patrick took the blow to his heart like the man he was. He would get over it. So would Hillinger. It was better this way. Wasn't it?

Hillinger sat up in bed, pulling a good portion of the sheets over his lower body. "Get out," Hillinger hissed, but there was precious little venom behind the words. He tried to summon up the anger he knew he should be feeling, but he couldn't.

"Take care, kid."

Hillinger refused to give Patrick the satisfaction of hearing him cry. With a monumental effort, he managed to hold everything inside until the door closed behind him.

Pitching himself headfirst into the bed, he buried his face in his pillow, trying vainly not to smell his new lover's scent there. His flat palm struck the headboard with a resounding crack. "Fuck! How could I fall in love with a jerk like that?"

Though his voice was muffled, Hillinger's feelings were painfully clear. Especially to the man who still stood on *this* side of the door.

When he heard Hillinger choke back a sob, Patrick clenched both hands into fists. He was a shit. A total shit. Hillinger might be a skilled manipulator, but he was honest about one thing. How he felt about Patrick.

Before he could give himself time to back out, Patrick crossed the room and sat down on the bed. Hillinger gasped and looked up as Patrick flicked on the light, illuminating his tear-streaked face. "Why'd you come back?"

"I never left."

"What is this, some kind of trick to fake me out?"

"No, kid. I just…I couldn't let you go on thinking that it was your fault the way things turned out. It was mine."

"You're damn right it was!"

Patrick shook his head sadly. "I deserve that. And more."

"Yeah, you do!"

Patrick blinked. So much for apologies. "I wish you'd stop agreeing with me, Greg."

"Why? It's true."

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Kinda hurts to hear the truth, doesn't it?"

"You have no idea," Patrick muttered under his breath. "I'm not worth crying over, kid. I'm really not a nice guy."

"I know," Hillinger said solemnly. Total quiet reigned for several moments until suddenly, without any warning, Hillinger reached out and smacked Patrick across the chest.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"You fucking moron! I deserve better than you!" Hillinger shouted.

Patrick shouted back, "What do you think I've been trying to tell you, kid?"

"Stop calling me kid!"

"Stop trying to push me around!"

Hillinger took advantage of Patrick's momentary distraction to leap on top of the older man, actually overpowering him, despite the fact that Patrick definitely outweighed him. But his intention wasn't strangulation, though if someone had asked him earlier, that would certainly have been an option, but seduction.

Bracing his hands on Patrick's shoulders, Hillinger kissed him. Long and hard and wet and open-mouthed. When he broke away, chest heaving, he panted, "You're in love with me. Admit it."

"I'm not. I'm just…trying to be nice."

"Being nice sucks."

"Noble, then."

"So does nobility." Hillinger bent his head and licked the side of Patrick's neck, lulling him into a false sense of security. A moment later, he forced a yelp from the older man as he latched onto his neck and raised a huge welt.

"Hey! That's going to show!"

"Now you belong to me."

"You don't understand. I can't get involved with you, kid. I just can't."

For all his protestations to the contrary, Patrick was, quite plainly, in over his head. Point to Hillinger. Who, it seemed, was more than capable of waiting as long as it took to elicit Patrick's confession.

"Okay, I love you, you little prick. Now get off."

Hillinger sighed convincingly and began unfastening Patrick's pants. "It's your fault. You made me lose my place. Now I have to start all over."

"That's ri—*all* over?"

"All…" Hillinger kissed the dark blond fur disappearing below the waist of Patrick's pants. "…over."

"Oh…"

Hillinger was having the best dream of his entire (albeit short) life. He was lying on his side in bed. Naked. The bedclothes were pooled around his hips, revealing his massive erection. A large hand crept around his waist, pulling him flush with the body behind him. An even larger cock slid into the shadowy crevice between his cheeks, abrading the tender flesh there without penetrating the opening that hid from sight.

Hillinger purred contentedly in his sleep. "Mmm…" he murmured as the hand slipped down to manipulate his already-throbbing dick. Fingertips rubbed gently back and forth, the slit growing wetter with each pass. As moisture beaded at the tip, Hillinger unconsciously thrust against the elusive hand. The movement of his buttocks caused the intruding cock to bury itself that much deeper in his cleft.

"Unhhh…" he groaned. He wanted to spill himself into that hand. He wanted to take that cock inside him.

"Fuck…me…" he whispered, the words curiously loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Without any further prelude, the cock entered him, managing to contact his prostate on its first upward thrust. Hillinger's mouth dropped open and his jaw went rigid. He opened his eyes, realization striking him at the moment that he came.

This was no dream. This was real.

Sharp teeth sank into his shoulder. If he could have come twice, he would have. Instead, he could only utter a strangely delicate noise. "Paddy?"

The teeth were replaced by a tongue. Slick and wet against his reddened skin. "Ah, virgin ass. Just what I like for breakfast."

Hillinger looked over his shoulder at his lover and laughed. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not a virgin."

His lover's palm claimed his left nipple possessively. "Mmm, well, whatever you are belongs to *me*."

Hillinger turned to face his lover, a bemused smile on his lips before he kissed him. "Are you the jealous type?"

"Could be, given the right circumstances," the tall blond replied huskily.

As Patrick nipped at his mouth, Hillinger's quickened breathing did not pass unnoticed. Suddenly Patrick drew back, frowning. His green eyes improbably cloudy, Patrick demanded, "Why? Dreaming of your Irishman, kid?"

Hillinger nodded his head slowly, looking for all the world like a mischievous boy with a secret to tell.

Patrick was surprised by the anger that flooded through him at the thought of Hillinger being with anyone else. He didn't want a relationship, much less an *exclusive* one, but he'd be damned if he would let anyone else into the kid's bed.

Especially *him* with his long red hair and his silver-grey eyes.

"I should have known it was you and *him*," Patrick said numbly.

"Who?" Hillinger asked innocently.

"You know who. Declan."

Hillinger began to laugh. "Me and…Declan? God, he'd have me for breakfast!"

Patrick growled, "So would I, kid. My point, exactly."

Hillinger considered how much of the truth to tell Patrick. "Declan is…Declan. A law unto himself. No one gets close to him. Not even me."

"But you'd like to."

Hillinger looked intently into Patrick's troubled green eyes and stroked the side of his mouth with his thumb. "I never took you for a stupid man, Paddy."

Against his will, Patrick felt the full force of Hillinger's seductive power. "What are you trying to tell me, kid?"

"*You're* my Irishman, Paddy. You're the only one I'm dreaming of."

Speechless, Patrick crushed the younger man to his chest. Hillinger could have left it at that, but he'd come this far…he wasn't about to give up now. Pressing his cheek to the place where he could feel Patrick's heart beating, he whispered, "I love you, Paddy."

"Oh, God, kid, I'm fucking doomed. I can't love you. I can't love *anyone*."

"Yes, you can. Your heart's the only part of you that *he* doesn't control."

"You don't know him…"

Hillinger struggled free to look up at Patrick. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he could plainly see the tension in Patrick's face. "I've known him longer than you have."

"Not the way *I* know him," Patrick confessed, hanging his head. He was a grown man. He was a fully trained field operative. An assassin, for God's sake. How could he still admit to being afraid of what *he* could do to him?

"He scares you."

Patrick squeezed his eyes shut. How could Hillinger love him when he was so weak? So powerless over his own actions? "Yes."

"What does he do to you?"

Suddenly Patrick opened his eyes. There was more than just fear there. There was disgust for what he had become. "I'm his whore," he whispered.

"Is that all?" Hillinger smiled.

"Is that all? That's everything! He makes me do things for him. Stuff he knows he couldn't push through official channels. The Sections would never stand for it, but the Agency? Fuck."

Hillinger released his grip on his lover and fell onto his back with a thump. "So if you blow the whistle on him…"

"…he blames me. I knew you were a smart kid."

Hillinger's handsome young face creased into a frown. "How did you ever get involved with him in the first place?"

Patrick swiped a hand over his face. Suddenly diaphoretic, he wondered if he was going into shock. If *he* found out that Patrick betrayed him, he was as good as dead. Death held little meaning for him. Most ops who reached his level felt the same way. But now…he wanted to live. He had a reason, a damn good reason, and it was lying right next to him in bed.

"If I said I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, would you believe me?"

"Your timing couldn't be that bad."

"He picked me for a Valentine mission. I had to fuck some scientist. To this day, I don't know what gave me away. Did I look like I was enjoying myself way too much?"

Hillinger didn't say anything, though he was sure he could look up the details of the mission later. Strangely enough, however, he found himself reluctant to do that. It happened before he knew Patrick. It had nothing to do with him. Yet the thought of Patrick fucking anyone else hurt in ways he didn't have words to describe.

"I don't…need to know," he said, missing the flash of pain that crossed Patrick's face.

"I'm sorry. I should have thought before I-"

"No, it's okay."

Patrick pulled Hillinger back into his arms and rested his chin on the top of the younger man's head. "If I had it to do all over again, I wouldn't."

Hillinger sniffed and closed his eyes. "You'd be dead then."

"But-"

"We all do what we have to do, Paddy. To survive."

"Anyway, the next thing I knew I was at Oversight. With *him*."

A tear trickled down the side of Hillinger's nose. He couldn't help but believe Patrick's story. So many men in power abused that power. Especially throughout Section. "I'm sorry he forced you to-"

Patrick cupped his lover's chin and stared deeply into his dark eyes. "But if he hadn't, I wouldn't have *you*. I do have you, don't I?"

"If you want me," Hillinger whispered.

"Oh, I want you." Patrick kissed him tenderly. "I want to keep you. Can I keep you?"

Hillinger nodded, unable to trust his voice.

Patrick wrapped his arms around his young lover and held him. He could have stayed there forever if it hadn't been for the urgent decisions that needed to be made.

Patrick carded his fingers through Hillinger's shaggy brown hair, the gesture more affectionate than sensual.

"So…" Hillinger thought out loud, "…what do we do about George?"

A dangerous glint entered Patrick's otherwise clear green eyes. "Introduce him to Declan?"

"Can you do it?"

"Of course I can do it, boyo. That's not in question."

Following Declan around like an overeager puppy was not earning Hillinger brownie points. The truth was, Declan wanted the problem gone. If George was the problem, George needed to be taken out. But was he the one to do it? And could he get away with it?

Oh, he would never get Operations to sanction something like this officially. The entire scenario was straight out of Mission Impossible. If you're caught, the powers that be will disavow any knowledge of your actions. Damn right they would. They'd cancel Declan in the bargain. Just to convince the rest of Oversight that Section One had nothing to do with the assassination.

"Declan…" A serious note in Hillinger's voice caused Declan to examine him more closely.

"I've never asked you for anything before. But-"

Declan nodded. "So how close are you and Patrick now?"

Hillinger didn't react the way Declan predicted. He didn't run. He didn't avert his gaze. And he didn't pretend not to understand what Declan was asking.

"I love him," he whispered.

"Can you trust him?"

"He's good to me."

"But can you trust him?"

Suddenly Hillinger realized that Declan wasn't asking for himself. He was asking for Sey and whatever future they still had together. It wasn't just Hillinger's secret. It was Declan's, too.

"Almost as much as I trust you," Hillinger declared.

Declan smiled, a genuine smile that he reserved for rare people on occasions that were even more rare. "Good."

Hillinger looked almost surprised at Declan's acquiescence. But Declan cocked his head and answered the unspoken question in the younger man's eyes. "I know you wouldn't risk Sey's life on someone you weren't totally committed to."

Hillinger's dark eyes almost glowed with the accolade that Declan had bestowed upon him. "Thanks."

It wasn't that hard to gain an audience with George. All it took was a bit of misdirection provided by Birkoff and Hillinger.

Preoccupied with what he *thought* was an abrupt change in a critical mission profile, George didn't realize that he was being set up until it was too late. "What are *you* doing here? I didn't send for you."

It took every ounce of his courage to withstand the withering look that George directed at him. "I needed to see you."

"About what? I told you never to come up here unless I specifically ask you. This is not one of the Sections. People at the Agency notice anomalies like this."

"You sent me after Declan-"

The older man hissed like the snake he resembled. "No names! Not in my office!"

"You wanted it to look like Operations did it-"

"Silence! You're a fool, Patrick. I should have known better than to trust a whore with secrets better left unshared."

"You're right." Patrick drew his gun and aimed, his right hand braced over his left.

"You won't do it," George scoffed. "You don't have the guts."

"Right again." Patrick lowered his gun hand and stood there hesitantly, as though he didn't know what to do next.

George took his indecision for weakness and wrenched the gun out of his hand. "I ought to shoot you with your own gun for daring to pull a stunt like that."

"My sentiments exactly," said a voice behind Patrick.

George paled as he saw Declan step out from his hiding place, his gun drawn. "You. You can't do this. A hundred operatives will be on you in minutes."

"Aye, but they'll be minutes too late to save the likes of you, won't they?" Declan drawled slowly, his brogue suddenly becoming more pronounced.

"They'll kill you. Doesn't that matter to you?"

"Not really. Not as long as I take you with me."

"You had better be sure, McLaren, because you won't get a second chance at me."

"Aye, well, at least I know what I am. You, you pretend to be something you're not, then you act all surprised when someone sees you for what you really are."

"Do you mind if I ask why? You've never shown an interest in vengeance before."

"Maybe it's an acquired taste."

"Operations won't thank you. He wants you out just as much as I do."

"At least he has rules. You're a bloody anarchist."

George glared at Declan. "Perhaps my replacement will be even worse, in *your* eyes."

"Better the devil you know than the devil you don't know, eh? Aye, there's a certain element of truth in that. But…" Declan cocked the gun, not even needing to brace his hand to fire his shot straight and true.

"I'll take my chances."

"Is it over?" Hillinger asked Patrick when he returned to their bed at last.

"For now."

"Are you staying?"

"With you? Just try and stop me."

"I love you, Paddy."

"Damn right you do, kid."

"So, is it over?" Sey asked Declan when he finally came to bed.

"As over as it gets."

"Did Operations say anything to you?"

"You mean, like thank you? Not bloody likely."

"Think he knows?"

"He knows."

"Are we safe?"

"For now."

"I love you, Declan."

There were some things that could not be put into mere words. The magnitude of his love for Sey was one of them. Declan groaned as he took Sey's mouth and the moment he felt Sey's fingers entangled in his long red hair, he was lost.

Madeline clicked the remote, transforming the clear observation window of The Perch into an opaque black. Turning to Operations, she said, "Is it over?"

"For now."

End