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Officer and Gentleman: Part 2

Billy spends Wednesday night with the case file. Pictures of young men, each with their faces slashed twice in sharp diagonal lines, stare up at him. He stares back until he doesn’t feel it anymore.

His superintendent truly believes that the thief should only be wanted for what he’s taken from the tourists. That the young men were rentboys and had it coming.

Billy has never been a true believer.

The file sits open on his table, beckoning, while Billy paces.

When he closes his eyes he sees nothing but Dominic’s scruffy, lupine face, slashed twice in sharp diagonal lines.

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Dominic is surprised when Billy appears at his door, but he lets the detective in with the grace of a practiced host.

Billy slaps a notebook on the table and motions for Dominic to sit.

“Write down everything you know.”

Dominic blinks. “That’s a small notebook.”

“Don’t play now, Dominic,” Billy hisses. “You’re in danger. And I can’t help you unless—”

Dominic smells fear, and places two calloused fingers on Billy’s lips. “He doesn’t want me.”

Billy waits, breath caught—stolen, Billy thinks.

“He likes them pretty. Frightened. Sometimes for sale.”

Dominic lowers his hand.

“I’m none of the above.”

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Billy’s hands are not gentle as he pulls the thief from his car and into his apartment, but Dominic does not fight.

“When did you last eat?” Silence. “Dominic.”

“Yesterday.” The whisper costs Dominic much, and Billy understands. But he cannot watch when Dominic tucks into the offered food like a wild dog.

Billy waits in the front room, and freezes when Dominic’s hands fall on his hips.

“No, it’s not—”

“Inspector,” Dominic breathes, kneeling before him. “Don’t mistake this for anything but what I want.”

Dominic’s mouth is not gentle as he takes him, but Billy does not fight.

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Interlude 4
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Dominic sleeps well into the next afternoon, and Billy wonders if it is because he feels safe.

The station is quiet, so Billy stays home, poring over the case file, re–examining photographs burnt into his memory.

He opens the notebook, hoping Dominic has provided something useful. The pages contain detailed reports and illustrations of Dominic’s petty thefts, and then—

Tucked in the middle is a drawing of the man Billy seeks—the thief he imagined Dominic to be—and the story behind each of his crimes.

When he closes the notebook, Billy wonders how Dominic can sleep at all.

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Dominic wakes only long enough to shove more of Billy’s food down his throat before he stumbles backs to bed. Billy’s eyes burn in remembrance of his own sleepless nights, and he lets him be.

He would rather Dominic sleep, anyway. There is work to be done.

Billy rounds up two of his best men and plans to meet as soon as the darkness will hide them.

His mind is clear, but for Dominic. Now that he has the information he needs, Billy has few ideas for what to do with the thief.

As ever, the handcuffs provide an answer.

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Billy can feel it in the air. The thief is out here tonight, as are tourists. Old women. And the next beautiful, endangered young man.

He watches the crowd, wishing he could speed things up. He wants to be home, wants this to be over, wants to be underneath the thief asleep in his bed.

Billy has come to this conclusion after quite the internal debate.

He turns and is greeted by a fist, formed by a hand he knows too well. When the night sky stops spinning above him, Billy’s vision is filled with Dominic.

“How fucking dare you?”

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Billy has to remind himself to breathe.

Dominic is bringing down the heavens, raging about being left handcuffed to a bed while Billy possibly gets himself killed hunting a thief who’s outsmarted him for months.

“You absolute cunt! I trusted you—”

Billy grabs Dominic, desperate to quiet him, but is quickly bested.

“Dommie, enough, stop this—”

Dominic hisses when Billy grabs his wrists, and Billy sees the deep red welts from where Dominic has forced his way out of the handcuffs.

Their eyes meet, and Billy drops his hands.

“Behind you,” Dominic whispers, and Billy knows this is the end.

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Billy ducks the hit. The double–bladed knife grazes Dominic’s face instead, and he crumples to the ground. Billy whirls, but their assailant is already gone. Billy follows Dominic’s panicked gaze to another detective, bearing down on them in the dark.

Dominic ransacks his pockets to produce the handcuffs. “Hurry.”

“No, I won’t—”

“Not for me, Inspector.” Dominic grabs Billy’s hands and shackles them, hard. And then Dominic’s mouth rests on his, waiting, working—

“You fucking get him,” Dominic breathes. “If you don’t, he’ll be back for me.”

Billy nods, breath stolen once more. “Go.”

“Yes,” Dominic whispers, and disappears.

Part 3

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