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Officer and Gentleman: Part 7

Billy needs to finish this, to end the thief’s reign of terror over his adopted city. He’s so close, now—another minute and the thief would have tired; Billy knows this.

Billy’s own stamina increases tenfold when he’s holding something as beautiful as the thief’s knife.

He has the choice to use the weapon properly—to threaten, to enforce, but to leave no marks—or to use it the way he knows best—

To leave the thief dead and unrecognizable in the alley.

But Dominic is collapsing now, bloodied and panting in the thief’s grasp.

Suddenly there is no choice.

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“Your fight is with me,” Billy whispers. “Let him go.” He advances, but Dominic’s muffled cry stops him. There’s blood on the thief’s hand from where he’s run the knife across Dominic’s stomach.

“There is no fight, Boyd.” The thief smiles. “No fight left in you, no fight left in young Dominic here.”

They hear it, then: the pathetic whine of a siren. Billy knows instinctively that another has already died tonight.

The thief releases an irritated sigh, and throws Dominic to the ground.

“Your boy is ill, Inspector,” he murmurs, disappearing. “See that you take better care of him.”

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Dominic. Dominic, don’t close your eyes.” Billy is frantic, leaning as he drives to rouse Dominic, feverish and trembling next to him.

Hurts ...” Dominic whispers. When Billy turns into the hospital, Dominic focuses, flinches—and finally panics.

“No. No hospital. I’m alright—”

“Dominic—”

“Take me home,” Dominic begs, pale with fear. “Please ...”

Billy knows why Dominic is fighting this, but he cannot take care of him alone. Not without ... assistance.

Minutes later, Billy’s pockets are heavy with painkillers, bandages and things he doubts he’ll even need.

Billy never imagined that tonight would force him to be a thief once more.

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Billy’s done everything he can to make Dominic comfortable, but the thief still shakes, heat pouring from his body.

It sickens Billy that he’s become an expert at cleaning Dominic’s wounds. He knows he once inflicted such wounds himself, and that knowledge compels him to be slow and careful with the stitches, the alcohol, the bandages Dominic tears at in his sleep.

Billy leaves him to his rest.

At work, the station is buzzing. Two young men were killed last night, and the superintendent demands answers.

Halfway through the discussion, Billy realizes that his case file is missing several pages.

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When Billy comes home, he finds Dominic curled up on the couch asleep, clutching a novel Billy purchased years ago and never read.

Dominic has nearly torn up the bandages on his chest, and Billy’s eyes burn at the sight. He kneels, and has barely time to blink before Dominic’s lips are on his. The gentle pressure, so unlike their usual tussling, fierce contact, makes Billy gasp.

“I’m sorry. Always and again, I’m sorry,” Dominic whispers. Billy catches his hands and sighs.

“You need to eat,” Billy says gently. He produces a Yorkie bar and smiles. “And more than this.”

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Dominic takes control of Billy’s kitchen with laughter and teasing words, whispers and touches.

Billy’s nearly finished eating when he feels Dominic’s eyes on him, searching for something Billy’s not sure he’s going to find.

“Will you tell me?” Dominic asks quietly.

There is a shaken pause. Dominic almost gives up, almost stands, but Billy finally speaks.

“Not yet ... not now. But yes.”

Dominic nods, trusting him.

“You’re in pain,” Billy whispers later. He’s on his back, on his bed, under his thief, under his spell. “Dominic—”

Dominic covers Billy’s mouth with his own, and replaces his pain with Billy’s.

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Interlude 3

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The next morning, Billy feels renewed. He believes he knows how to catch this killer thief, and he wants the chance again to do so. It takes another meeting to convince the superintendent that his motivation has returned, though the missing pages have not.

He meets with two younger detectives, and they determine from the thief’s pattern that he will not attack tonight. Billy posts one of the detectives outside the pub just in case.

Billy feels something inside, something he hardly recognizes and has trouble naming: contentment.

But when he comes home and reads Dominic’s note, the feeling vanishes.

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Dominic takes his time walking. His chest burns with every step, and though he’d rather be anywhere than at the pub tonight, he knows he’s doing the right thing.

It’s not in Dominic’s nature to be still, to rest. He grew bored. And fearful.

He’s ready for this to be over, whatever it takes.

He sits and waits, ignoring the pain that tears through him whenever he moves. It isn’t long before he’s joined by the one person he hoped to see.

“I have something for you,” Dominic says calmly, fingering the stolen pages.

The thief smiles gently in return.

Part 8

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