Eye Spy

A Torquere Press High Ball - 1

High Ball: Eye Spy Copyright © 2007 by Drew Zachary All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78650. ISBN: 978-1-60370-018-4, 1-60370-018-8 Printed in the United States of America. Torquere Press electronic edition / May 2007 Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78650. www.torquerepress.com

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Chapter One DB walked up the stairs and along the corridor, past the dentist's office and the lawyer's office, until he hit the door reading Black's Private Investigations. Turning the door knob, he was brought up short by the fact that it was locked. Right. He'd had to let Ginny go and her last day had been Friday. He was on his own for phones, bills, filing, everything. Happy Monday to him. A new outfit had rolled into town six weeks ago, all shiny and new with all the latest gadgetry and about fifty fucking employees. He knew he wasn't the only PI hurting a little. He'd manage, though, he always did. Digging through his pockets, he found his keys and let himself in. The place looked the same as it always did: secretary's desk at the end of the room next to the door to his office, a half dozen chairs that actually matched. It had been eight, but he'd had to throw out two. One had a bum leg and the other had been destroyed by the kid of one of his clients. Little brat had sat there and picked at the pleather covering the seat until it finally gave way. He'd have added the cost to the mother's bill, but he felt bad for her -- asshole husband not only cheated but hid all their assets, leaving her high and dry. People sucked. The one plant the office boasted looked kind of droopy, and God only knew how old the magazines were, but there was a little water cooler with a paper cup dispenser, and tissue boxes here and there. The place didn't look as near to the bone as it was. Activating the door ringer, DB grabbed the appointment book off Ginny's desk and headed into his office, leaving the connecting door open. His office was nicer -- he had windows and a big mahogany desk, an oak chair for clients and a comfy one behind the desk for himself. The filing cabinets had a fake wood finish, but they blended well enough they didn't overpower the room. He turned on his computer and sat, flipping through the appointment book as he tugged a Camel out of his shirt pocket. "You're late," a voice behind him said. "And you shouldn't smoke in the office." He tried very hard not to jump at the voice. "What? No good morning? No how are you today?" He lit up, taking a long drag. Better than fucking coffee, that was. "Besides, it's my office." "So you say." There was a long pause and the voice turned a little whiney. "Seriously, don't do that. It's rude."

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Rude. Right. DB rolled his eyes and sat back. He took another drag and started to blow smoke rings. "Show off." There was a long-suffering sigh and then, "Good morning. How are you today? Where the hell is Ginny? Why isn't there any coffee? Are we going to work today?" God, he hated it when Jesse only half followed along. "I have a headache. Ginny doesn't work here anymore, which is why there's no coffee -- you don't drink coffee anyway so why are you complaining? We sure as hell had better be working today or we won't have an office anymore, either. Why the hell am I saying we? I. I better be working or I won't have an office. And stop hovering over my shoulder -- you know I hate that!" "And I hate you flaunting your lovely nicotine at me! Can't smoke, either." Jesse came out from behind him and moved to the client chair, sitting down with the same careful precision he always used when he was acting normal. He looked pretty solid today, too, instead of half-there. "I liked the smell of Ginny's coffee, is all," he said, eyeing the latest smoke ring as it floated above his head. "I'm not flaunting, I'm smoking. There's a difference." Okay, so maybe the smoke rings had been showing off. But it just wasn't right for a ghost to nag you over your bad habits. "And you're going to have to get used to the smell of just Starbucks again 'cause Ginny's gone until business picks up." He tapped the appointment book. "We've -- I -- have a lady coming in today at eleven." Which gave him -- he glanced at his watch -- about five minutes to smoke his cigarette and spray the air freshener around. "Might as well give it up and go with 'we,'" Jesse said with a grin. "Know what she wants?" "The day I finally give it up and go with we will be the day you decide you're going to fulfill your half of our deal and actually go." Not that he was as anxious for that as he used to be. Somehow he'd gotten used to Jesse's company, damn it. "The usual -- thinks her husband is cheating and wants us to get pictures to prove it. Though I bet what she's really hoping for is that I won't be able to find her proof." He shrugged. "Same old, same old." He knew he shouldn't complain -- interesting cases like Jesse's had been were few and far in between and it was the domestic crap that was his bread and butter. Jesse nodded at him. "Spying and shit. I can do that. You know I'm good at that. Thus, 'we.'" He grinned and stretched, though why a ghost had to stretch was beyond DB. "I know, I know." It was handy having Jesse around, especially for getting into places DB couldn't and letting him know if it was worth making the effort to get in. He took a couple more puffs, wishing he'd remembered there wouldn't be any coffee made, and stubbed out the cigarette before spraying the Lysol around. Just on cue the ringer on the door sounded, letting him know someone had come in.

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Straightening his tie, he made his way around the desk and out into the waiting room. "Mrs. Delaware?" A woman stood just inside the door, peering around. "Mr. Black?" she asked, stepping in a little closer and holding out her hand. She was nicely dressed in a light colored skirt and white blouse with a pink scarf, leather purse slung over one shoulder. Her face was open enough, eyes meeting his head on. Straightforward then. Good. He took her hand and shook it. "That's right. Come on in -- you're right on time." Jesse had moved from the chair to leaning against the wall, thank God. He usually did, but once in a while, if he was pissy, he'd stay there and DB would have to watch the client sit on him. There wasn't much worse than a client sitting in Jesse. "Thank you for seeing me," Mrs. Delaware said, sitting down. "I've never had to do this before, and I wasn't sure how soon you'd be free to talk to me." Instead of going back to his own chair, he sat on the edge of his desk. He'd found it made his clients feel more comfortable talking about their troubles. "Well I've just wrapped up a couple of cases." He'd have to fill out the paperwork and send off the bills on those himself, too, damn it. Usually he'd offer coffee, but that was out, too. Looked like all he had was his charm. "So what can I do for you?" "Well." She stopped talking and looked around for a moment. "It's not a pleasant thing to admit, but I suspect my husband is having an affair. He's been acting a little strangely for a while now, and it's just not feeling right. I'd like you to make sure he's where he says sometimes, and find out who owns a phone number I found." She blushed a little and looked down at her lap. "I feel like an idiot, to tell you the truth." Against the wall, Jesse looked a little bored. "Oh, don't feel bad, Mrs. Delaware. You'd be surprised how often it happens." He grabbed a pad from his desk and wrote her name across the top. "Why don't you give me the details of why you think he's not being faithful and then I can make a plan of attack and give you a time and cost estimate." He could do this kind of case in his sleep. She nodded and opened her purse, pulling out a business card. "He's been working late at the office, about three times a week. When I call him, though, I don't hear the office in the background; I think he's forwarding his calls to his cell phone. I've never heard anything like a bar or a noisy place, but it doesn't sound open like his office." She passed him the card and added, "This is his card with his numbers and the office address. He's in sales."

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Jesse stirred a little when DB took it, but he didn't come over to read it. He'd probably hound DB for a look later, though. "Also," she went on, "he's been checking his e-mail at home about three times a night and deleting it right away. He never replies. When I ask him why he's working late he gives me really vague answers. And I think I saw him looking at a coworker with too much attention last month at a company dinner." The last was said with a tight lipped grimace that spoke volumes. "How have things been between the two of you lately? Any fights? Changes of routine in the bedroom? I don't mean to be rude, but these are all indicators that something's up." He spoke quietly and respectfully, doing his best not to make her feel worse than she already did. He might find this kind of case a bore, but he knew how important they were to the clients themselves. She looked at the floor and then back up at him, her eyes bright and her jaw set. "If anything, he's overcompensating. I hate that, you know. I didn't think I'd complain about sex being too good, but I find myself wondering where he's learning these things." DB winced. "That's never a good sign, I'm afraid. But you never know. Maybe he's just surfing porn or hooked on one of those poker sites or something." It was funny, how they always were happier to hear their husbands had lost all their money and were in debt up to their eyeballs than to have their suspicions of cheating confirmed. "You said something about a phone number?" "Oh, right." She rummaged in her handbag again and came up with a slip of paper. "I found this mixed in with our mail a while ago. I kept forgetting to ask him about it, and now I don't want to. It could be for Chinese take-out for all I know, but I think it was about a week later that he started working late so much. And I'm scared to call." This time Jesse did come over to look, leaning over DB's hand. At least he didn't walk through anything to do it. "Huh. I wish they'd write down a name, just once," he said. DB’s lips twitched and he cleared his throat before turning his attention back to Mrs. Delaware. "Well, this looks pretty straightforward. And if your husband follows the same routine every week it shouldn't take very long to get to the bottom of things. I require a two hundred dollar deposit on this kind of case and charge a hundred dollars a day plus expenses. If that sounds acceptable, I've got a standard contract for you to fill out and I can get started on this today." She looked at him blankly for a second and then shook her head. "Yes. Yes, of course. Sorry, I think part of me expected you to ask for more money and another part of me wanted you to say I was imagining things and to go home to bake him cookies." She sighed and took out her checkbook and a pen. "I assume a check is all right?" Jesse snorted softly. "Does anyone actually bake anymore? Jesus." "Shu --" He cut his retort to Jesse off. "Should be just fine. A check, I mean." He made the save

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with a smile and went around his desk, looking for a contract. "Do you expect your husband will be working late tonight?" She looked up from where she was writing the check and said, "Probably, yes. He didn't last night, so he's about due. If not tonight then absolutely tomorrow." "Well, then I'll get started today." He brought the contract around and put his hand on her shoulder -- he knew all the moves for making distraught wives feel better. "We'll get this figured out one way or another and that'll help. Let you start moving on with your life." She nodded jerkily and leaned a tiny bit into his touch before moving away again. "Thank you," she said softly, taking the contract and scrawling her signature on it. She handed it back with the check and looked up at him with huge, blue eyes. "I'll call you tomorrow around noon?" "Oh, please," Jesse muttered. "Turn off the charm, DB, or you'll never get rid of her." He did the opposite, turning it up, squeezing her shoulder and smiling gently at her as he dug into his pocket and pulled out a card. "That's my cell number at the bottom. If I'm not here in the office, I can be reached there at any time." "You are such a jerk," Jesse said, walking away. "And the only reason she can reach you at any time is because you have no life. I'm dead and I get more action than you." "Thank you," Mrs. Delaware said, smiling at him a little. "I'll be in touch soon." His own smile was a little tight, given what he wanted to do was glare and snarl at Jesse. "Thank you, Mrs. Delaware. I promise you we'll -- I'll -- treat your case with the utmost privacy and delicacy." He shook her hand and walked her to the door. "We!" Jesse crowed after them. "Excellent." DB could hear Jesse laughing to himself all the way out to the main door, where Mrs. Delaware smiled at him again and left, walking quickly down the hall like she was afraid someone would see her. He closed the door and leaned against it, glaring. "Shut up!" There was resounding silence from the inner office and then Jesse walked out to him, through the wall. "Aw, don't be like that. You know as well as I do that I'll be taking a tour of the good Mr. Delaware's office later on." He winced as Jesse came through the wall -- he hated it when Jesse did that; it gave him the creeps. "You need to stop talking to me when I'm with clients, Jesse. I can't answer you back when I'm with clients." And yeah, he did know. For all he bitched and complained, Jesse was a big asset. "I know that," Jesse said with a wink. "One of the very best perks of being dead. So. Where is this guy's office, anyway? I can whip over there and see him actually working while you dust or something."

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"No, we'll go together later. When it's almost quitting time." He looked at his watch. Huh. He had a

few hours to kill. He supposed he could get to his paperwork. "Wanna play chess?"

Jesse gave him a sour look. "You cheat when I tell you which of my pieces of move."

"I do not!" Well... not always. "It's not my fault you forget which pieces are called what,"

"I don't forget. Castle is a completely legitimate name for a rook, and it's not my fault that the

bishops kind of look like castles on your set. Besides, you'll blow smoke through me. If you don't

do that, I'll play."

His lips twitched. "No blowing smoke through the ghost. Deal." He pulled out another cigarette and

lit it up before setting up the chess board, grinning. "You never said I couldn't smoke at all."

"Sure, play semantics with the dead guy." Jesse bitched, but he carefully perched himself on a chair

to study the board. "You know I'm going to win."

"Not this time."

Not even if he had to cheat.

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Chapter Two Jesse wasn't really sure exactly when Mr. Delaware's business day ended and DB wasn't a lot of help with that either, so they decided that 4:45 was as good a time as any for Jesse to head on over to the address on the business card and take a look around. If it looked like the man worked until later, Jesse could always come back. One of the many cool things about being a ghost was that not only could he go through solid matter like walls and such, but he didn't have to deal with public transportation. Or any transportation, really. Jesse just kind of went there, the trek uptown taking mere seconds while he got his bearings. Of course, the pluses of being a ghost were pretty much outweighed by the whole being dead thing, but Jesse worked with what he had. He arrived in the reception area of the large office complex and went to look at the sign that listed office numbers, searching for Delaware's name. There was a strange, fluttery sensation in Jesse's belly, and he couldn't help grinning. He adored this kind of thing; the excitement of peeking at the living for a reason, getting to the bottom of a matter... he'd always wanted to be a detective. The guys that ran the office before DB showed up hadn't been any fun at all. Too thick to even see him, was the problem. That DB could, and that he had gotten over his initial shock as fast as he had, gave Jesse a bit of relief from boredom. Okay, it was also really cool that his current office-mate was a PI. Jesse wasn't about to let DB know that, though. No, he'd just stick around and annoy DB, since that seemed to be working out okay. Delaware's office was on the third floor, so Jesse headed up, not really thinking about how he was managing it. He'd found out just after he'd become a ghost that over-thinking things made them hard to actually do. It was a lot simpler to just go with it and arrive right there in front of Delaware's desk. The man was on the phone, working. "No," he said, frowning at a sheet of paper in front of him. "We can get that out to you, Friday at the latest." Jesse ignored him and looked around the tiny room. A photo of Mrs. Delaware was on the desk, a huge pile of files in front of it and dust on the frame. There was a computer humming away and more files stacked on the only other chair. It was kind of horrible and dull looking really, with no sense of style. Delaware hung up and leaned back in his seat, groaning. "Damn," he muttered. Then he sighed and reached for the phone again, punching in a number so fast that Jesse missed what digits he hit. DB wasn't going to be happy about that. "Hey, it's me," Delaware purred. "Almost done for the day. Meet you in half an hour?" Jesse blinked, both at the smarmy purr that was kind of gross and the timeframe. He hoped DB had managed to get his car around to the front of the building.

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"Okay, baby," Delaware said, his voice dropping even lower. "I'll see you there." "Where?" Jesse demanded. Not surprisingly, he didn't get an answer. He listened as Delaware called his wife and made his usual working late excuse, and then Jesse slipped down to street level, looking for DB's car. "Be here," he muttered, scanning the street. "Be here, damn it." It took almost two more minutes before he saw the car turn the corner and glide to a stop, facing west. With a jerk Jesse put himself in it, trying to be casual about the way he'd just popped into the passenger seat. "He's leaving the office," he said, grinning at DB. "Any minute." DB jumped about a foot in his seat, and turned a glare in his direction. "Damn it, warn a man. You're lucky I was already stopped." It looked like DB was going to continue the scolding when Delaware came out of the building. "That him?" he asked, as Jesse pointed. "Yup. Get ready. And how the hell am I supposed to warn you? I made sure you were stopped, Christ." Jesse peered through the window, watching Delaware as he walked away from them. "Is he staying on foot?" he asked, suddenly wondering if he should chase after him. "The bus? Who the hell takes the bus anymore? Especially to an affair?" DB asked, as Delaware ran to catch the city vehicle. DB's eyes narrowed. "Someone who thinks his wife might come to suspect and figures he can lose a tail easier this way. Go get on it with him and tail him to wherever he's going, then get back here and tell me." Jesse rolled his eyes. "Sir, yes, sir," he barked, snapping off a salute. He was on the bus in a moment, before DB could react. "Bossy," he muttered, looking around for Delaware and nodding at a ghost in a very dirty suit that looked like it was from the thirties. The ghost nodded back and turned away, ignoring him completely. Jesse made himself comfortable on a free seat, watching Delaware and looking back to see if DB was managing to work the traffic to stay with them. It wasn't easy, Jesse knew, and he frowned when DB was forced to pass the bus, nodding again as DB managed to get back behind it two stops later. In about ten minutes, Delaware pressed the stop button and stood up, Jesse right behind him. He hoped DB has his camera out and ready; they were right in front of a rather seedy hotel. "He talk to anyone on the bus?" DB asked, already snapping shots when Jesse settled back in the passenger's seat of the car, long telephoto lens ready to catch any action. "Nope. Looked around a bit, but no chatter. Want me to find out the room number?" Jesse watched Delaware go into the hotel, his head bowed low. "He should have a hat. That would really set off all the stealth shit he's got going on." DB laughed. He liked the sound, and DB didn't do it nearly often enough. "Yeah, let's get the room

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number and let him get settled, then we'll find a better parking spot and go see if peeking through windows gets us anywhere." "You got it," Jesse said with a grin. Really, that was much better than the orders DB tossed at him, and he really appreciated the use of 'we.' "Be right back." The number was easy enough to get, standing in line next to Delaware at the counter. Jesse took a moment to actually look at the man, surprised to see he was both taller and older than Jesse'd though. He was probably just over six feet, and there was a bit of gray in his dark hair. Jesse had to admit that the lines around his eyes were kind of attractive. When Delaware picked up the key -- an actual key, not even a key card -- Jesse snapped out of his inspection and went back to DB. "Room 235," Jesse told him, looking up at the building. "Come with me or wait for recon?" "Damn, 235 sounds like it's on the second floor. I'm going to get that spot that just opened up halfway down, across the street. You figure out where 235 is and I'll meet you up front once I've parked the car." DB was already driving, pulling a u-turn and making a mad dash to the open parking spot. "Jeeze, I hate moving cars," Jesse grumbled, bracing himself for the weird slip and slide of going through moving matter. He shuddered as he went through and then eyed the second floor. It only took a moment to get up there and moment more to get himself settled. He'd put himself in a room, which wasn't typical of him, and with a roll of his eyes he wandered out into the hall. "I blame the car," he muttered, looking at the doors for room numbers. He went the wrong way, turned around, and finally found 235 next to the alcove for the ice machine. "Nice," he said, eyeing the way it was leaking water onto an already stained carpet. He stuck his head through the wall and checked to make sure Delaware was there, flinching as the man chose that moment to enter. The room was otherwise empty. Back down to meet DB, Jesse looked around for lone women coming in, thinking about how off his timing suddenly was. With an effort he pulled himself together. DB wouldn't be pleased if he was suddenly sub-par with the spying. DB sauntered casually up the walk, nodding to him before wandering into the lobby of the place and stopping beside a lone piece of artwork on the wall opposite the front desk. DB stared at the sea-tossed boat as if it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "So where's this room, then?" DB hissed, eyes still firmly on the picture. "On the second floor," Jesse said acidly. "Where do you think? There's stairs to your left, the room is next to the ice machine, the mark is there, alone. Well, I haven't seen a woman come in, anyway." DB chewed on his lower lip, and finally nodded. "All right, I'm going back to the car, keep an eye on the place and look out for this woman Delaware's doing. You go wait in his room with him,

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track any calls he makes, and get a full description when his chippy shows up. I'll want a name, too, Jesse." Jesse stared at him. "And what, pray tell, will you be doing while I'm doing all the work? And who the fuck says 'chippy'?" "Keeping a look out." DB turned to look at him for the first time since they'd gotten to the hotel. "What? If you weren't here I'd rent the adjoining room and drill in a peep hole or something, but I don't have to do that seeing as I have you. You don't want to do it -- no one's asking you to stick around." With that and a grumble, DB turned and clomped back out, heading for his car. Jesse frowned until he realized it was almost a pout and then sighed. "Damn it." It was time to get to work. Back in the room, Delaware was in the shower, and the bed was turned down. Jesse listened to the running water for a moment and started poking around, finding only a pile of take out menus and a ratty TV Guide that was four weeks out of date. "What a hole," he said to the TV, thinking that if he was having an affair he'd aim for something a little more upscale. The water had just turned off in the bathroom when there was a sound at the door, and Jesse stood stock still. It was a hard habit to break, and hiding in plain sight wasn't an easy thing to get used to. Then the door swung open and Jesse's jaw dropped open. "Holy shit," he said out loud. "DB's gonna love this one." A youngish man, maybe twenty-five or so, came in and closed the door behind him, already toeing off his shoes. "Stay there," he called out, grinning at the bathroom door and reaching for his belt buckle. "Stay right there." Behind the door, Delaware laughed. Jesse didn't even wait for the 'chippy's' pants to hit the floor before rushing to DB. "You gotta see this," he yelled, missing the passenger seat and winding up in the back. DB jumped again, head whipping around to glare at him. "Don't do that, damn it. And I don't know what there is to see -- there hasn't been a single chick go into that dive the entire time I've been sitting here. Is Delaware jacking off to nasty porn or something?" Jesse grinned at him and shook his head. "Nope. Guess again." DB rolled his eyes, whites standing out in the increasing dark, and then settled back in his seat, lifting the binoculars up, going back to watching the front of the hotel. "I'm not in the mood for twenty questions, Jesse." "Okay. So what if I tell you that at this moment he's in the bathroom, probably getting a blowjob. He's not alone, man." Jesse wiggled and grinned. "And hurry up, I have spying to do, and you want a name."

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"I swear I've been watching this place like a hawk and not a single chick's walked in there... " DB's voice faded away and he turned to look into the backseat again. "Delaware's getting it on with a guy?" "Uh-huh." Jesse thought his face might split, he was so close to laughing. "About twenty-five years old, pretty in a lean and sharp kind of way. Light brown hair, had on trousers and a white shirt. Well, until he got in the door. He was getting naked when I came out here." "And you're in a hurry to get back in there and spy on them? Huh?" DB settled back in his seat, fingers drumming against the steering wheel, a small smile playing over his face. Jesse had been dead long enough that his interest in men was really a very small thing to him; he had more important issues. Still, it would suck if DB was going to be a prick about it. Putting on his determined face and hoping it stuck there, Jesse shrugged. "That's what you pay me for. Oh, wait, you don't. So if I happen to get my kicks while I'm doing your job for you, that's my business." He thought maybe that came out a little more defensive than he'd intended. DB just laughed. "Go on and get your kicks. Oh, and get back out here when Mr. Pretty in a lean and sharp kind of way is coming out -- we'll get some shots of him and see where tailing him gets us." Jesse flushed and left without digging himself in any deeper. His aim was better, thankfully, and he put himself back in the room, by the TV. He was facing the wall, but at least he wasn't in the ice machine. He had ears, though, and he turned around slowly, knowing what he was going to see. They were sprawled on the bed, Delaware propped up on the pillows as sharp-and-pretty sucked him off, both of them moaning and moving. Jesse swallowed hard and hoped the ringing in his ears was going to stop, just in case Delaware decided to use a name. He didn't really seem able to talk, though. Either Delaware was fast off the mark or sharp-and pretty was really good at what he was doing, because Delaware was panting and fisting the sheets in one hand, the other flexing and twitching before grabbing for sharp-and-pretty's hair. "Shit, yes!" Delaware yelled, his hips lifting off the bed as he shoved his cock deep. "Suck me. Oh, God!" He shuddered and his hips rolled and Jesse was glad that he didn't really have to breathe, because watching Delaware come was pretty hot. Or maybe it was the sounds, the way sharp-and-pretty was moaning as he swallowed. "Damn," Jesse murmured, watching Delaware go all boneless. Sharp-and-pretty lifted his head and grinned, then started crawling up the bed. "My turn. Open up." He had one hand around his dick and the other braced on the headboard by Delaware's head. "We only have an hour, man. Come on, now."

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Jesse glanced at his watch and wondered if he should go tell DB that, but then Delaware said, "Pushy brat." His tone was affectionate, and sure enough he sat up a bit and licked at sharp-and pretty's cock. "You taste good, John. Like always." "John," Jesse said, watching as Delaware started sucking. "I suppose a last name and address would be too much to ask for?" He watched for another few moments, but they didn't answer him. When the sucking sounds got almost as loud as John's encouragement, Jesse figured it was either time to join in or report to DB, and, with a sigh, he figured reporting in would be the way to go. Even a ghost has principles and whacking off while spying on the mark was probably a bad idea. Especially when he could do it later and not have to take any ribbing from DB. Glancing at his watch again, Jesse figured they'd be done and have a few moments to talk after, before they had to clear out, so he went back to DB to let him know what was going on. This time, he hit the front seat. "Hey." DB didn't startle this time, just turned to give him a grin. "Have fun?" Jesse rolled his eyes. "A blast," he deadpanned. "Sharp-and-pretty's name is John and he gives better head than Delaware. Just in case you wondered." "There's no such thing as bad head, Jesse." DB gave him a grin, obviously in a better mood. Possibly the cup of coffee in his hand and the empty doughnut bag on the passenger side floor were the reason for the sudden change. Jesse eyed the doughnut bag. "Glad to see you were taking notes and working hard," he said tartly, ignoring the fact that his own share of the work had involved watching sex and getting a stiffy. "John said they only had an hour. I don't think they have time for more than blowjobs, so they might talk when they're done. You be ready to follow one of them, okay?" "We don't need to follow Delaware -- we know where he's going." DB jerked his head toward the back of the car. "There's a drive-through about a half a block back. Figured you'd be a while, and not passing out from hunger was high on my list." DB took a few sips from his cup and then glanced over at Jesse. "So... did you enjoy the show?" Momentarily nonplussed, Jesse raised an eyebrow at DB's interest. "I've seen better," he said carefully. "But it was pretty hot, yeah. Lots of panting and gasping." "Huh." DB was quiet a moment, and took another sip of coffee, which Jesse could smell -- not nearly as good as the stuff Ginny used to make. "Did you... you know." DB made an unmistakable hand gesture. Jesse almost choked. "No!" He didn't mention that he'd really wanted to, almost had, and was still mostly hard. Or that he would later, for sure. "God, DB. Would you?"

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"If I was a ghost?" DB shrugged. "I don't know -- maybe." DB glanced over at him and shrugged again. "I guess I meant. Well... could you. If you wanted to." "Sure," Jesse agreed. "I could. But I look the same as any man after I come, and you'd know, and then there would be a thing, and why the hell are we talking about this?" He tried not to shift in his seat, because it wouldn't do any good anyway, and then DB would really know that he was still turned on, and things would get even more weird. "Wait, you would? Watching guys go at it?" "Well, I whack off to porn all the time, so I'm guessing this would be about the same. Unless they were gross or doing something really nasty." DB wasn't looking at him anymore. "And we're talking about it because I'm curious. I guess I figured because you were a ghost you weren't interested in that kind of thing and now I find out that you are. I mean. That you can be. Do you? Jack off, I mean. When you're... where do you go when you're not hanging around my office?" "Um." Jesse hoped he didn't look dizzy, although DB wasn't even glancing at him. "I go to a place that's not really anywhere, I guess. Or your place. And yeah, I'm interested, but it's a little frustrating when all I can touch is me. Jerking off becomes very important when you can't actually get sensation any other way. I'm pretty good at it now." DB actually gave him a sympathetic smile. "Yeah, the one-handed party gets real old after a while - and you don't need to be a ghost to know that!" "Told you that you have no life," Jesse said, returning the sympathy. "But at least you have the option. You're not exactly hideous, either; no reason for you to be sitting on the sidelines, DB. Seriously. Live for me, all right?" DB snorted. "I'm just trying to make ends meet here -- the fact that almost all my cases are these boring assed infidelity cases that need to be worked evenings and nights sure isn't helping my love life any. Hey, is that our guy?" DB sat up, putting his coffee in the cup holder. Jesse almost got a kink in his neck, he looked so fast. "Shit, yes." John looked relaxed and calm, neatly dressed again. Not at all like he did with Delaware's cock in his mouth or his own in his hand. Jesse whimpered. "Go," he said, bracing himself so he wouldn't slip through the seat of the car when DB rolled. DB started up the engine and pulled out into traffic to follow the blue Mazda John climbed into. John obviously had no clue he was being tailed, DB keeping him in sight, but staying well back with relative ease. "So is it different?" DB asked out of the blue while they were waiting for the traffic light to change. "Is what different?" Jesse asked, looking at him. "Jerking off now that I'm a ghost?" DB nodded, watching the road like it was fascinating.

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Jesse grinned and wondered just how far he could push this. It was obvious that DB was both curious and embarrassed about it, so that made it something fun, in Jesse's mind. "Well," he said, turning slightly to lounge. "Yes and no. No, because I spent a lot of time when I was alive doing it, and it feels the same. I mean, actually coming hasn't changed. But I miss having help, and I miss toys -- God, I miss toys. On the upside, I can see live inspiration when I want to, though that's possibly a bad thing. I mean, it's rude to spy. If I was alive, I'd be in jail." He grinned and sprawled a bit more, watching DB's face. "I really miss toys." It was dark enough he couldn't be a hundred percent certain, but it sure looked like DB was blushing hard. "What..." DB's voice cracked and he had to clear it. "Um.. what kind of toys? I'm pretty sure you don't mean rubber duckies." They turned off the main drag, heading into the core of a nice, middle-class neighborhood. "Rubber duckies," Jesse said thoughtfully, watching John's car. "Kinky. No, I mean regular toys. Like dildos, cock rings, scarves. You know. Fun things that make getting off on your own even more fun. Can't use 'em anymore." Their mark turned into a nice house with the porch light on and DB drove past it, pulled a three point turn using the driveway four houses down, and parked the car near enough they could watch. After jotting the house number down, DB settled back. "So if you can sit in that seat and not sink through, why can't you shove a dildo up your ass?" Jesse stared at DB, vaguely aware that his mouth was hanging open for the second time that night. He shut it quickly and shrugged. "I don't know. Actually, I do. I'm not really sitting on the seat. I'm holding myself in a seated position in vaguely the correct space. It's complicated. If I concentrate, I can kind of sit here, like I can walk up stairs and things. But I can't pick things up with my hands, which makes the dildo shoving difficult. Believe me, I've tried." It was a good thing DB wasn't drinking or there'd have been coffee all over the dashboard, given the great snort he just made. "You've tried. Oh, man." DB shook his head. "Why hasn't this ever come up before? Why is it only today I'm finding our you're gay?" "Because you never asked?" Jesse said, attempting to sound reasonable. The talk about toys was getting to him. "It's not like I'm going to just show up for work and tell you I couldn’t get off because I wanted to get fucked, not stroked, right?" Great, the blush was contagious. DB shrugged. "I guess. Maybe we should start playing twenty questions instead of chess." "Sure," Jesse said with a nod. "Or we can just talk. So, DB. Into guys?" He grinned and eyed John's house. Really, he should be in there, but this was more fun. DB shifted, and to his surprise, nodded. "Yeah. I am." "Oh." Jesse had no idea what to do with that. "Oh," he said again. "Well. Next time we tail

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Delaware we should hook you up with a mic receiver or something. Seriously, if you like sound, they got it." He made himself stop babbling and tried very hard not to go over every word he'd said since John had shown up at the hotel. Even ghosts get embarrassed. "Oh, I don't think we're going to need to tail Delaware much more than we already have. The missus hears about this and she's not going to want to know more." DB grinned. "They should all be so easy. No, wait. I take that back. I'm fucking bored out of my head with all this domestic crap. Those assholes at Ryerson have swallowed up all the interesting cases." Jesse tilted his head. "Hey, we had an interesting case. I mean, the first one. They can't all be murder, blackmail, and embezzlement. If you really want better stuff, you're going to have to be sneaky about it. Poach clients. Advertise. Get fresh coffee in and maybe get some better equipment. I know a guy who knows a live guy that's good with electronics." "You know a guy who knows a live guy..." DB chuckled. "Yeah, maybe we should think about it, 'cause I'm starting to hate this job. If it wasn't for the company I might have already chucked it all in." Jesse turned slowly in his seat to fully face DB. "I beg your pardon?" he said, cupping a hand around his ear. "Did I just hear you say you like me?" "Fuck off." DB suddenly found their mark’s house really interesting. Jesse glanced over just to make sure that there wasn't anything actually happening, then turned back to DB. "Aw, come on," he said, grinning. "You like me, admit it. You think I'm fun and funny and possibly a little hot." DB was blushing, he so was. "You're a ghost." As if he needed the reminder. "That's not a denial," Jesse said with a laugh. On impulse he put his hand on DB's thigh, not surprised when it started to sink into him. "Thus," he said, pulling back so he didn't freak DB out even more, "all intimate relations will have to be creative." Seriously, if he didn't know DB couldn't actually throw him out of the car he wouldn't have done it. DB was looking down where his hand had been. "That was kind of... " "Creepy?" "Yeah, that too." DB shrugged and was back to watching the house with more focus than needed. "It was almost like I could feel your hand when it went inside me." "Really?" Jesse sat a little straighter, suddenly interested in something other than teasing. "What did it feel like? Cold? Warm? Can you feel this?" He put his hand on DB's arm and let it sink in a little. DB jerked and gave him a look. "Warn a guy, would you."

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"Jeeze, get a new line," Jesse said, rolling his eyes. "Tell me what it feels like. Please." DB shifted and then looked at him. "Do it again." Jesse waved his hand. "I'm going to touch you now, DB," he said in an exaggerated tone. Then he put his hand back on DB's arm and pushed a tiny bit. To him it felt the same as going through a wall, although warmer. There was resistance and then there wasn't, just the awareness of his hand being in matter. "Tingles," murmured DB, looking at where Jesse’s hand disappeared into his body. "Feels better than it looks." "Does it? Don't look." Jesse grinned and lifted his hand away. "Close your eyes." DB shook his head. "No. Lets wrap up here. This is a decent neighborhood and eventually someone's going to call the cops on the guy sitting in the car. Probably think I'm a perv. Go see what John's up to in there so we can get some closure on this, and then we'll go." Jesse sighed. "All right. Jeeze, I wasn't going to molest you. Much." "I didn't say that." DB glared at him. "You know, for a dead guy, you're awfully prickly." "Hey, you're the first person I've touched in about twenty years, it's exciting! We can talk about this later, I have work to do." Jesse got himself ready to walk into John's house. "You want his name, right? Anything else?" "Is he living with his parents? Does it look like he's out? Anything that might give us a clue about how he and Delaware met, why Delaware's not coming here. I really doubt the wife's gonna want that kind of detail, but I'm curious." It was that curiosity that made DB a good investigator, he always wanted to know more. "Got it. See if he's got a wife of his own, what he's about." Jesse nodded to himself. "Check out his porn collection, see if he's got a string of older men or not. Hey, if we drag this out you can charge Mrs. Delaware for another day. Oh, I'll get his phone number, too, if I can." His mind was back on the job, thank God, and Jesse only absently noted that he wasn't turned on anymore. There was work to do, and he loved to work. DB being gay and this tingling thing were something he wanted to explore later. But first things first.

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Chapter Three DB sat in the car waiting for Jesse to come back and did his best not to think. He'd been trying not to think ever since he found out Jesse was gay. Of course the not thinking part had seen him confessing that he played for the other team himself. If you could call it that. God, he hadn't had a date in... wow, a long time. There just weren't a lot of chances, and he didn't meet a lot of savory people in his line of business. And now it looked like his best prospect was a ghost. He'd say his love life wasn't looking any brighter. The curtains on one of their mark's neighbor's front windows opened a crack and then closed again and DB looked at his watch. "Come on, Jesse. I'm starting to look suspicious out here." It was another five minutes -- long, horrible, and tense minutes -- before Jesse popped back in, grinning at him. "Okay," he said. "Let's go. I'll fill you in on the way home." DB wasted no time starting up the engine and pulling away from the curb. He could hear the sounds of a police siren and took the most direct route he could back to Main Street. "Jeeze, getting jumpy were ya?" Jesse said with another grin. "Hey, they can't sling your ass in the joint for being a perv." He kept an eye on the rearview, relaxing as they hit the main drag and merged in with traffic. "So what did you find out?" "He doesn't live alone. Hardly surprising, given the size of the house and his age." Jesse looked out the window at the traffic, his head tilted a little bit and his brow drawn in concentration. Probably trying not to get tossed from the car. "He has two rooms at the back, shares the kitchen. I think it's his sister's house, there's a lot of little kid things around. He's on the computer right now, writing emails to Delaware. I think John actually loves him. Oh, and John is a graduate student. No idea in what, other than it’s business related by the stack of texts." "Huh. Poor guy. This isn't going to be a pretty situation once the missus finds out. You want me to drop you off at the office or..." God, was he really about to offer to take Jesse home? He was pathetic. And listening to his dick. He reminded the offending organ that Jesse was a ghost -- g. h. o. s. t. not really there see through no one else could see him ghost. Jesse glanced at him and smirked, damn him. "Or? Well, it doesn't really matter, I guess. If you take me to the office I can just go right on over to your place anyway." He smiled, the smirk fading away. "Up to you, DB. We can play chess, if you want." "Office it is. I need to fill out the paperwork and stuff." He glanced at his watch. "It's too late to call Delaware's wife, but I can have a report all laid out for her to pick up tomorrow, and then we can play." Chess. Yeah. Right.

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Like he could concentrate on chess. "Okay," Jesse said, looking away. DB was pretty sure he saw the smirk coming back, though. "No cheating." "I don't cheat." Here he was on more familiar footing. "I mean there's a reason we don't play poker." "Yeah, I can't hold the cards, that's why," Jesse laughed. "I'd win if I could." He snorted. "Yep, you'd win because you'd cheat." He was grinning as he pulled the car up in front of the building. The great thing about working late is there was always parking this time of night. He tugged out his phone and dialed the number for Georgio's Pizzeria. "Christ," Jesse muttered. "Torture by pizza. And I bet there will be smoking and other fun things, too. I am so going to kick your ass at this chess game." DB stuck his tongue out and made his order, adding a six pack of beer at the last minute. The pizzeria didn't sell them, but he was a regular customer and the regulars knew that if you asked for it, and were willing to pay extra, the delivery guy would pick up the booze from the store across the street from the pizza joint. A pat to his pocket confirmed he had cigarettes. He nodded at Jesse and headed up the stairs. "Bastard," Jesse said cheerfully. "Beat you there." He vanished, the sound of his laughter breaking off into sudden silence. Oh, he'd known that Jesse was going to that. Ghostly asshole. He didn't hurry -- there wasn't much point, Jesse had him beat the moment he'd disappeared. DB did have his cigarette in his mouth when he got to his office, though, and the minute he was inside, he was puffing away. Jesse was standing in the lobby area and when DB came in he rolled his eyes. "You are so predictable," he said, turning to walk toward the office. "Like I didn't see that coming." He walked through the wall instead of the perfectly acceptable open door and called out, "Get in here and do your paperwork." He was predictable? That was kind of the pot calling the kettle black. DB sauntered in and opened the file on his computer, started listing everything they'd found out. "I asked them to bring beer," he noted conversationally. "So I heard," Jesse said sourly. Jesse came to stand by DB's chair and peered over his shoulder at the screen. "How are you going to say that you saw them together when you didn't? I can't exactly

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tell her all about the blowjobs. I can tell you John's cock has a slight curve to the right, though. Probably too much information. You can't drink all six beers." "I'll tell her I had a source at the hotel. If she wants pictures, I'll go out and get them. Once you find out what room they're in, I'll go in and get the room next to them and drill a hole in the wall for the camera. She may just confront him, though -- she struck me as that kind of woman." He ignored the way his cock kind of perked a little with Jesse leaning over his shoulder like that. He was not going to suggest they try that ghostly touch again. Not. "And I'll save what I don't drink." Jesse made a sound that wasn't exactly a snort, but was close. "Yeah, yeah. That'll look good to clients -- open the filing cabinet, shift the beer to the side, and get a folder. You misspelled the name of that dive they were in." "I did not." He glanced at the screen. Fuck. "It's short hand." "Short hand is used when one uses one's hands, DB. Not in typing." Jesse snickered at him and leaned a little more, which was weird because of the lack of weight and body heat. "But you got the address right. Good for you." He rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Mom." "Oh, I am so not your mother." Jesse waved a hand at him and then put it carefully down on DB's shoulder. "Very much not your mother." DB gasped at the unexpected "touch", the tingles more pronounced than they'd been in the car and shooting straight to his dick. "Jesse!" "Hmm. You can really feel that?" Jesse seemed more intrigued than anything else. "Neat." "Yeah, I can feel it. Sort of." He shrugged his shoulder, which would have worked at getting Jesse's hand to slide away if Jesse had been real. But he wasn't, and the movement just kind of slid the tingles around inside his shoulder. "Could you stop that? I'm trying to work here." Jesus. He was not getting hard for a ghost. "Please, I don't have substance. You can work through me if you have to. Although that would be gross." Jesse lifted his hand away and stepped directly behind DB. "You work. I'm gonna.... be right here." The tingle started up in the exact center of DB's back. "Does that feel different?" He froze. Swallowed. Looked like his spine was way more sensitive than his shoulder. "Jesse, I can't work if you're doing that." And shit, not only was he getting hard for a ghost, now his voice was all husky and Jesse was going to know he was hard for a ghost.

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"Why not? Does it hurt?" The tingle went away abruptly. "God, are you okay?"

He shook his head. "Doesn't hurt," he admitted.

There was a long pause. "Okay," Jesse said in a frightening tone of voice that meant he was

thinking hard. "But it's... distracting. And you didn't even turn around to yell at me and you're kind of.... Huh." Jesse took a couple of silent steps around to stand in front of him, half in the desk. He was grinning broadly. "You like it." "Fuck off." He aimed a glare in Jesse's general direction. "No, no, no! This is fascinating!" Jesse's grin grew. "Can I touch your face? Like, put my hand on

your jaw? I want to see what that's like."

"Asshole," he accused. He didn't actually say no, though, did he?

"Uh-huh." Jesse nodded and bent forward, one hand slowly coming toward DB's face. "Hold still.

I'd hate to put my finger up your nose." He cupped his hand into the approximate shape of DB's jaw

and reached out.

"Jesse..." The word faded, turned into a groan as the tingles slid through his face, dancing pleasure

along his nerves. Without even thinking, his eyes closed and he nuzzled into the touch.

He really should have kept his eyes open.

"How about this?" Jesse whispered, and suddenly there were tingles surrounding his dick and balls.

"Like that, too?"

"Fuck!" His eyes flew open and he jerked and shot his chair back.

Jesse blinked at him and slowly walked out of the desk to stand like a normal person. Ghost.

Someone not embedded in furniture. "I'll take it that's a yes?" he said, eyeing DB carefully.

"Jesus, Jesse, you can't go around just grabbing people's goods." Even if his were now hard and

aching and really wanting Jesse to do it again.

"Why not?" Jesse asked, apparently serious. "You liked it. You're hard as stone, and I haven't

touched anyone in so fucking long, and.... well." He looked down, and if a ghost could blush, he

was doing it. "You liked it," he said again.

"But you're a ghost!" He had a hard on for a fucking ghost.

"Really. I hadn't noticed." Jesse glared at him and turned in a circle. "Why, so I am! Damn it. And

here I thought I was a man, too." He looked down at himself and then glared at DB again. "I am.

And I'm no better off than you -- worse, because I can't feel you."

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DB glared back. He had no clue how to respond to that. No clue what to do next. His cock had a clue. But he tried not to make it a habit of being led by it. Jesse took a step forward, palm out. "Does it really matter, right now, that I'm a bit different?" "A bit?" He was shaking his head, though, because his whole body wanted that palm to connect. "Just a little. Think of it as me being older than you. It doesn't really matter, does it?" Jesse stood in front of him, looking at him with wide eyes. "So long," he whispered. "Please." He couldn't possibly deny his body and Jesse. Despite their bitching at each other, he'd grown used to the ghost, liked Jesse. "Okay." Jesse didn't say anything, just reached out, almost swaying toward him. One hand landed on DB's chest, just below the shoulder, and the other went right to his cock, pressing and moving. "Oh, fuck." DB's eyes closed, hips pushing into the touch, which moved it, pushed Jesse's hand farther into him. Groaning, he forced his hips to still, to let Jesse do his thing. "That's it," Jesse whispered. "God, you look so hot like this, you know? It almost doesn't matter that I can't feel you against me. Just looking at you is enough to get me going." The tingles shifted a bit, lighter, higher, then deeper and down low. "Tell me where it feels good. Talk to me." His knees tried to buckle and DB reached out to grab onto Jesse's shoulders, his hands sliding through air, making him whimper. "Gonna fall," he whispered, eyes opening, looking down at where Jesse's hand was sort of sunk into his pants. "Lean back," Jesse said, his wrist flexing, which looked weird, but made for some really interesting sensations. "Chair." He felt back and found the arm of it, just kind of sank into it, sprawling back, legs spreading wide. He closed his eyes again, hands wrapping around the arms of the chair as a low moan crawled its way out of his throat. "Christ. Jesse. It's... Fuck." "Not that," Jesse said, his own voice as rough as DB's. "But I'll work on it." Jesse's hand moved low, deep between his legs, and DB was holding back another moan when the door to the other lobby rattled. "Fuck!" Jesse yelled, and the tingles suddenly vanished. DB's eyes flew open, but the room was empty, Jesse nowhere to be seen. The front door opened and the Georgio's delivery guy strolled in, pizza in one hand, bag in the other. Shit. The guy was going to think he was in here jacking off while he waited on his pizza. Of course the truth wasn't

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believable at all, so he tugged his shirt out of his pants, letting the tails hide his hard on -- at least he hoped it did. "How much..." He had to clear his throat. "How much do I owe you?" He grabbed his wallet and paid for the pizza and booze, ignoring the strange look he was getting. All right, not completely ignoring it because he left the guy a much larger tip than he usually would. Then he locked the door as soon as it closed behind the delivery dude. God. Dumping the pizza on his desk, he twisted off the lid on a bottle of beer and drank half of it back. "That was so not... I mean... just... with the timing.... argh!" Jesse actually looked kind of funny, pacing around the room in obvious frustration. Well, funny if DB wasn't still trying to get himself calmed down. "It could have been worse." Hell, in another couple of minutes he'd have come in his pants and that would have been a lot worse to get the pizza with. He downed the rest of his beer. "It is worse," Jesse snapped. "I don't have beer or pizza or cigarettes and you do. And you're not gonna let me touch again in the next five minutes because you're freaked, and therefore I'm totally denied any form of sex that involves anyone other than just me." For a ghost that needed to concentrate to deal with sitting, he sure flopped well, landing on the chair in a sprawl that echoed DB's before they were interrupted. DB tilted his head. "Don't pout, Jesse -- it's very unattractive on you." He opened a second beer and lit up another cigarette, because, yeah, that sounded like a really good idea. "Besides, what exactly were you getting out of it?" Jesse blinked at him. "What was I getting out of it?" he repeated. "Oh, let's see. The pleasure of interacting with someone. The turn on of watching you get turned on. Hope that I could actually get you to come, get to see it and know that I did it. A huge, aching hard on that isn't going away fast." The pout turned into sulking and Jesse eyed his beer. "I hate being dead sometimes. I want a beer." Wow. DB'd obviously had sex with the wrong people. "I would think wanting a beer is the least of the things to hate about being dead." He opened the pizza box and grabbed a piece and his beer, making his way over to Jesse. "You're in my chair." He was going to eat and he was going to finish his report and then he was going to go home and pass out because this whole day was too unreal to be believed. "Yeah." Jesse looked up at him, not moving. "So what?" He crossed his arms and sulked harder. "Don't make me sit on you, Jesse." Because that would be creepy. And probably get him all hot again.

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"Maybe I'd get to drink beer if you did," Jesse said, sounding a little depressed and still a lot pissed off. DB sighed. "It's not my fault you're dead, Jesse." "No," Jesse said, unfolding his arms and getting up with a sigh. "It's not. It's your fault I'm sexually frustrated, though." DB's mouth dropped open. "What? No way! I didn't start this!" "You did so!" Jesse kind of growled at him. "Asking me about watching and shit in the car when Delaware was getting his dick sucked well and proper." Oh, yeah, he'd forgotten about that. "I was just teasing..." "You were not!" Jesse yelled, his arms waving. "You were interested. You were curious. You wanted to know all about it and what I was doing. You still want to know? You still want to see? Fine!" Jesse's eyes flashed and his hands started tugging at his belt buckle. DB hadn't even noticed that Jesse had a belt, and suddenly he was staring at the buckle like it was the most interesting bit of silver in the world. "What are you doing?" he whispered, nearly dropping the food and booze. He plonked them down on his desk and went back to watching what he knew damned well Jesse was doing. "If I have to explain it, then you're an idiot," Jesse said roughly, his belt landing on the floor and his fingers tearing at his fly. His trousers were a brushed cotton, kind of a relaxed fit that DB vaguely remembered from when he was very young, and they slid down Jesse's hips with almost frightening ease. They didn't hit the floor, but it wouldn't have mattered if they did; all of DB's attention was on Jesse's hand, rubbing at his cock over his boxers. DB groaned, his own cock coming back to life just like that. "You can feel yourself?" he asked, though it was obvious that Jesse could. "Only thing I can feel. Well, in any sense other than.... oh, fuck off." Jesse shoved his hand into his boxers and moaned. "Can we talk later?" "Sure." He reached out, but his hand sank into Jesse's middle and he didn't even feel the tingles from before. Jesse looked at him, his hand moving slowly in his shorts. "Weird." He closed his eyes and bit his lip, stroking himself a little faster. "Anything?" he asked. DB shook his head. "Touch me again." Please, oh, please, touch me again. Jesse's eyes opened again, but only halfway. He looked almost drugged, one hand on himself and

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his eyes heavy lidded like that. He reached out with his free hand and started at DB's belly, dragging his fingers down to DB's cock. "Feel me now?" he whispered, finally pulling his own dick free from his boxers. DB nodded eagerly, eyes wanting to close, but he forced them to stay open to see Jesse, see Jesse's cock. He could feel all right, the tingles back; looked like they only happened when Jesse touched him and not the other way around. He leaned back against his desk with a moan, fingers shaking as he undid his pants. Just because Jesse could touch him through his clothes didn't mean he had to come in them. "Yeah, that's it," Jesse said, eyes fixed on DB's hands, on his own hand, on DB's cock. "Show me." He was still jerking himself, but slowly, almost lingering. He was either really distracted or really close, because his fingers were barely sweeping over his skin. DB got his pants undone and they dropped down to around his knees. He pushed his underwear down to meet them and then there they were, him and Jesse, flapping in the breeze together. He was panting, legs spreading a little, the edge of his desk digging into his ass. "God," Jesse breathed, looking at him. He actually let go of his own cock to reach out with both hands and wrapped them both around DB's prick. Well, almost. Sort of in that area, though, and that was all that mattered. Gasping, DB curled his fingers around the edge of his desk, forcing himself not to thrust or move. "Shit, Jesse, that's... It's good." "It's fucking gorgeous" Jesse said, looking down. "Jesus." One hand curled around the base of his dick and the other slipped down to cup his balls. "Gonna make me come," DB warned, his eyes shutting as his head fell back. "Oh, God, gonna make me come." "Yeah." Jesse sounded like if he wasn't dead already the mere thought of making DB shoot would make him that way. "Do it. God, please." The tingles intensified, everything got sharper and stronger and then Jesse was panting in his ear, providing a soundtrack without the feel of breath on his skin. "Want to watch you, hear you. Say my name." "Oh, fuck. Jesse. Jesse!" The last was shouted, his hips snapping automatically as he shot hard. The tingles were still there, making his orgasm feel like it was going on and on. Jesse kind of gasped and choked and then one of the hands disappeared. DB didn't even know which one, and was pretty sure it didn't matter. "God!" Jesse yelled, and the other hand left a trail of tingles and sparks down DB's leg as Jesse kind of sank a couple of feet. "Did you?" Oh, yeah, Jesse had. His hand was covered in come, and it wasn't DB's, 'cause his own was all over the front of his shirt.

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"Huh? Oh. Yeah." Jesse looked up at him, eyes even more dazed. "What the fuck am I doing down here?" he demanded, looking at where his legs were sunk to the knees in the floor. "That's never happened before." He frowned and came back up, then sprawled in DB's chair again, his cock still out. "Damn, boy. That was amazing." "You're still in my chair," DB pointed out, the desk digging into his ass something awful. "And you're still bitching," Jesse said with a grin. "But at least you're not drinking beer." He sighed and tugged his clothes up and into order, not getting off the chair until he had to retrieve his belt. "One of the nice things about being dead is the lack of clean up needed." DB collapsed into the chair, pushing his cock back into his pants, leaving the come splattered shirt hanging out. "That was...." He didn't know what that was. Aside from the best sex he'd had in a long time. "Amazing," Jesse repeated. "Tell me I'm wrong. No, don't. Just go with it, okay?" "I can get on board with amazing." It was crazy and quite likely impossible, despite the evidence still on his shirt, but he was just gonna go with it at the moment. Jesse grinned and nodded, then stood there, looking at his own hand, his smile growing puzzled. "Um. DB?" "Huh?" DB tried to focus in on Jesse’s hand. "Look." Jesse held out both his hands, now clean and tidy other than a streak across the back of one wrist. "That's yours."

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Chapter Four Jesse had stared at his hand until long after the damp smear was gone. DB had stared, too, bombarding him with questions about how that was even possible, but the horrible truth was that Jesse didn't know. He didn't know. He'd tried to figure it out, walking around the office and trying to touch things, trying to make himself real enough to be able to pick something -- anything -- up, but it wasn't any good. His hand passed through objects, the walls, the desk, everything. It was like nothing had changed at all. He even tried to touch DB again, but that seemed to be the same. DB felt tingles, Jesse felt like he was touching nothing more animate than a chair. Well, aside from the way it made DB gasp. He did that until DB finally got fed up and told him to go away so DB could do paperwork. "We'll figure it out tomorrow," DB said, and Jesse tried to get him to understand that this was way more important than some case of marital deception, but DB's patience had run out and he turned his back to Jesse and the room and got to work. So Jesse left. He went to a lot of places, flipping the ideas and random explanations over in his mind until he could work up the courage to try touching things again. He felt a little like he had when he'd died; everything in the universe had taken a step to the right and he was left just out of the normal range of things, his center shot to shit. Only this time he wasn't able to adjust as easily, and that was saying a lot. He couldn't duplicate the strangeness of having contact with another person, another thing outside of himself. He wondered if it was sex that was the key and zipped back to DB's office to see if he could talk DB into another go, but the office was dark. At DB's apartment, he couldn't bring himself to wake the man up, figuring DB'd be so pissed off that sex would be out of the question. Then he wondered if DB himself was the key, but as he stood there, watching DB sleep, he knew that wasn't it either, or Jesse would be able to touch DB and feel something. Anything. By the time morning rolled around he'd wandered all night, walking through walls, people, hanging out in all night coffee shops trying to make the sugar packets move. He'd thought about going to a whore house to test the sex theory, or at least see if it was sexual fluids, but he didn't know where one was and he felt kind of gross about the idea anyway. Cranky and frustrated, he waited until almost noon before going to the office. He had no idea if DB was planning anything for the day other than filling in Mrs. Delaware, but he didn't have anywhere else to be and he was making himself nuts trying to figure out what had happened the night before. The only thing that bothered Jesse more than not knowing what was going on was the horrible thought that it might be a fluke, never to be repeated. That idea gave him a headache, which was another new thing.

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Frowning, he walked into DB's office and sat on the client chair. He hadn't had a headache since he'd died. He'd just assumed that dying was the biggest thing he'd go through, and thus he was immune to everything else. DB wasn't there, but it wasn't long before the front door opened.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting long, Mrs. Delaware."

"Oh, no, I'm here early, we did say twelve-thirty, but when you wouldn't tell me over the phone...

Well. I just had to know."

They came into the office and DB nodded at the chair before leaning against the front of the desk.

"Have a seat."

Jesse lifted a hand in a wave and at the last moment flipped DB off instead before hauling himself

up and going to lean on the wall. Cranky appeared to be an understatement, but he didn't really

want Mrs. Delaware to sit in him, even if it would annoy the hell out of DB.

DB didn't even glance in his direction, which just made him even more cranky. Instead, DB sighed

and gave Mrs. Delaware a sympathetic look.

"I was right," she said shortly, lips tightening.

"I'm afraid so, ma'am. He's having an affair."

Jesse hated this part. He closed his eyes and sighed, wondering if she was a crier. He couldn't help

but think about John though, and the way he'd poured over his computer the night before, smiling as he wrote to his lover. Why the hell Delaware had gotten married at all confused Jesse; it made the whole thing complicated and messy and hurtful. "Do you have proof?" she asked, voice cold. No tears, none at all. "You mean pictures? I didn't get a chance to get any, but now that I know what hotel he frequents I

can be set up to get them next time."

"You're sure, though."

"Absolutely."

"That lying, cheating bastard." That's when the tears started and DB patted her shoulder and offered

her some tissue.

Jesse sighed again and shifted, not really wanting to get any closer. "Tell her the rest," he said in a

low voice. "At least brace her for the pictures of John."

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DB sighed again. "You should know that... it's not a woman."

"What?" She looked up at DB, mascara streaked down her cheeks, giving her raccoon eyes.

"There's no easy way to tell you. Your husband is sleeping with a man."

She hiccupped and wiped at her eyes. "Really? Well, then there's a chance, isn't there? I'll tell him

he has to stop and he will. I'll take him back if he stops."

DB glanced over at Jesse for a second before answering. "I'm pretty sure it doesn't work like that."

"Of course it does. Do you have this... man's name?" She stood and held out her hand imperiously.

DB passed a piece of paper over, Mrs. Delaware glancing at it before folding it carefully and

putting it in her purse. "I won't need your services any further, because there won't be any more

messing around. Do I owe you anything over and above the deposit?"

"Well, no, but..." DB looked rather confused by her reaction.

"Then thank you very much for your help, Mr. Black. You've helped me save my marriage."

With a sniff and another swipe at her eyes, she turned on her heel and stalked out. DB stared after

her long after the click of her heels had disappeared.

Jesse looked at the door and then turned to face DB. "Is she really that... that stupid?" he asked.

"Tell me she didn't just say what I thought she said." Jesse's headache kicked up a notch.

DB shook his head and went around to sit in his chair. "I don't think it's stupidity, I think it's

desperation -- she's latching onto whatever she can to help keep her marriage afloat. I guess she

really loves him." DB shook his head. "Something like that changes everything, though, no matter

how much she thinks they can go back to normal."

"No, I don't think so," Jesse said, shaking his head. "I mean, yeah, it changes things. But that was the look of a woman who simply can't understand that men can love each other. She's a 'phobe, man, even if she skews her perspective in her own mind." He sat in the chair she'd left and rubbed at his forehead. "Whatever. Not our problem anymore, I guess." "Nope. We made out well on the job, too -- full deposit for only one day's work." "Yay," Jesse deadpanned. "You get to eat for a few more days. And all I got out of it was the

chance to watch a decent blowjob."

"Seems to me you also got off," murmured DB, looking firmly at his computer screen.

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"So did you," Jesse shot back. "But I got the added bonus of a huge trip around 'what the fuck' land, and you won't help me figure it out!" "And how exactly am I supposed to help figure it out?" Jesse got up and started pacing, a habit left over from being alive and one he'd thought he'd lost. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe talk to me. Maybe give me some ideas instead of sending me away to wander around all fucking night, trying one thing after another. I mean, seriously. I haven't got a clue here and it's pretty big, DB. You have no fucking idea what's it like not to have any contact for years and then --" Jesse waved his arms and almost snarled. "I felt. And now I fucking can't, again!" "So it was a fluke. I was busy and then I needed to sleep. You could have waited until this morning like a normal person!" "I'm not a normal person!" Jesse yelled. "I'm dead, you idiot! I can't feel anything! See?" He swiped his hand through a mug, not being close enough to hit DB himself. The mug hit the floor with a sharp crack, the handle breaking off on impact. Jesse stared at it, shocked into silence. DB stood up and leaned over the desk to look at the mug. "Did you feel that?" Jesse nodded, utterly dumbfounded. "I tried all night to do that," he said weakly. He bent down and tried to pick up the mug, only a little surprised when his fingers slid through it. "Well, shit." "Huh." DB came around and picked up the mug, hefting it, checking it out. Then he slid his hand over where it had been sitting on the desk, returning the mug to its original location and standing back. "Try it again." Jesse swatted at the mug with predictable results. "Hmm." He looked at the mug and carefully tried again, both fast and slow, concentrating hard. Each time his hand slid through it, and he felt the weirdness of matter occupying the same space as his hand. "Try harder." DB suggested. "Really whallop it." Jesse took a moment to gather himself, grit his teeth, and hit the mug with everything he had. His hand not only went through the mug, but also through the corner of the desk and DB's hip. "Sorry," he said reflexively. Then he groaned and turned away. "Damn it. This isn't fair." "Well, what's different between now and a few seconds ago when you could do it?" DB asked, rubbing his hip where Jesse's hand had gone through it. "I don't know," Jesse insisted. "If I knew that, I'd do it, don't you think?" He turned around and

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glared. "That's the whole point. This isn't easy, you know. You think I want to be like this? Bad enough that I'm fucking dead, now I have randomly occurring shit that I can't control!' He yelled the last and pointed at the mug. "Stupid thing won't cooperate!" He gave it a hard shove, pissed at the thing for even existing and being so stubborn, and watched as it fell off the desk, bounced once, and came to rest against DB's foot. "Huh." DB grinned and picked up the mug, putting it back, but in a different spot this time. "First of all, you don't need to yell at me for trying to help because just a minute ago you were pissed off that I wouldn't. Second of all, looks like when you're pissed off at me you can touch things. Which you know, while I'm happy for you if you want to be able to touch things, the yelling at me is going to get real old, real fast." "I wasn't pissed at you," Jesse said absently, looking at the mug. "I was mad at that. Although, if I get mad at you, maybe then I can touch you." "I don't want you punching my lights out just so you can touch me, Jesse." DB nodded at the mug. "So try it again. Get pissed off at it and hit it." Jesse rolled his eyes. "I can't just get mad," he said tartly. "It's not doing anything. God, this is insane." He threw himself into the chair, remembering at the last moment to pay attention so he landed right. "Jesus." "Sure it has. It's sitting there ignoring you. Mocking you. Hell, it had an affair with your lover and now they're going to run away together and have baby teacups. Dozens of them." "You can't have teacup babies," Jesse muttered, glaring at the mug and trying to get mad. "Why not?" DB asked, sounding far too amused. "Because you're far from compatible." Jesse glanced at him. "I wasn't mad at you last night when we... when I got you on my hand." "But what if I want little tea cup babies. Do you think we can adopt?" "You're insane, and it's not working." Jesse got up and absently slid his hand through the desk, watching his fingers sink into the top. "I wonder why this is happening now." DB shrugged. "I don't know. Hell, I don't know why I can see you and no one else can. Have you ever been pissed off at stuff and tried to hit it before?" Shaking his head Jesse pulled his hand back and looked at it. "Nope. Once I realized I was dead and no one could see or feel me, I just kind of went with it. Do you know that I've been hanging out in this building pretty much since then? This office had had two investigative services, a delivery outfit, a therapist, and was once an apartment to a group of kids going to art school. No one else could see me, either." He grinned and added, "No one else pissed me off."

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DB stuck out his tongue. "That's not all I do, though, is it?"

"Nope," Jesse agreed. "You also entertain and amuse and get me hot as all hell." Damn the man,

anyway. Life was a lot simpler for a dead guy before DB took the office.

"And that... tingle thing. You said that's just me, too, right?" DB wriggled at little at that.

Jesse nodded. "Yeah. When I touch other people, either on purpose or by accident, they don't even

notice. You notice, though."

DB nodded, met his eyes. "I did."

Jesse nodded, too, and took a step closer to him. "So, you don't really want to have teacup babies,

do you? I don't know if I can give tingles to a man who has lust for a mug."

DB snorted, but looked interested. "At least I can touch a mug back."

"But does it feel as good?" Jesse raised a hand and waved it around. "Does that mug make you

moan?" He stepped closer and smirked. "Even dead I can beat an inanimate object. Go me." Really, it was kind of pathetic, put that way. "Did you make me moan?" DB asked, legs spreading.

"I made you fucking yell," Jesse whispered, his hand hovering over DB's body. "Want it? Want me

to touch you again?"

"I didn't yell. I'd remember yelling." DB's eyes were on his hand, chest rising and falling with short, rapid breaths. There was a definite bulge in DB's pants. "I remember yelling. I remember moaning and begging and my name." Jesse wished he was alive enough to feel the heat from DB's body, but settled for enjoying the flush on DB’s skin and the way DB’s body was so obviously wanting him. "Think you can do that for me again?" he asked, finally putting his hand on DB's belly, just under the waist. DB sucked in a breath, a low moan cut off. "Fuck. Jesse."

Jesse slid his hand lower, trying to figure out what was a light touch, what was heavy. And he tried

very hard to ignore his own cock, which was quickly getting into the groove of things. "That's my

name. I like how you say it."

DB's answer was just a grunt, body moving, shifting until Jesse's hand was inside DB's pants. "Oh,

there..."

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Jesse grinned and looked down so he could see what he was doing. He curled his hand around DB's cock and said, "Show me. Easier if I can see. Better, I promise." DB frowned, hands wrapping around the arms of the chair. "What? Show you what?"

Jesse growled at him. "Your cock, DB. I can't see, I can't aim, I can't stroke. See?" He moved his

hand off to the side a bit, just as encouragement. "Undo your damn pants."

"Well, why didn't you just say that to start with?" DB's hands went to his belt, but then he stopped and shook his head. "Just a minute." Popping up, DB headed out to the waiting room. Jesse stared after DB. "What the hell are you doing?" he yelled.

"Locking the fucking door!" DB came back a moment later, looking smug. "You totally forgot

anyone could walk in at any time. Forgot about everything but touching me."

"I don't care if anyone walks in," Jesse pointed out. "They can't see me. All they'd see is you with

your dick out."

Actually, that was kind of funny to imagine.

"Yeah, and sitting there moaning and groaning without even touching myself -- insane and dirty."

DB shook his head and sprawled back into his chair behind the desk, leaning back. "Man, if we're

going to make a habit of this we need to start planning on horizontal venues."

"I suppose," Jesse said, eyeing him. "Are we making a habit of this?" He walked around the desk

and studied DB's sprawl.

"Two times in two days. I'd say it's a habit." DB undid his belt buckle, then his pants, cock straining

at his underwear.

"You could be right," Jesse said softly, watching. "Habit it is." His own cock twitched and he licked

his lower lip, fingers flexing. "Show me."

"Were you always a voyeur?" DB asked, thumbs sliding along the top of his waistband, fingers

pushing beneath to touch himself. "Or is it only ever since you became a ghost."

Jesse watched and made an effort to remember, though it was difficult to think, what with DB's

hand moving, hidden away under fabric. "Um," he said, forcing words out. "Ghost thing, I think.

Didn't spend time lurking in showers, if that's what you mean." His own hand crept toward his belt

buckle, but he pulled it away.

DB's whole hand slid inside his underwear, a low groan sounding. "So you want to see?"

"I. Yeah, I want to see," Jesse admitted. "I want to touch. But I want to see. Show me, DB. Let me

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watch you." This time he didn't stop his hand, but when he got his belt undone he stopped and waited. DB pushed his underwear down, revealing his hand wrapped around his cock, sliding along it. Jesse felt himself sway forward and forced himself back. "God," he whispered. He rubbed a hand over himself and licked his lip again. "Pretty." DB's hand slid away, leaving just his cock, flushed hard with blood, tip dark, leaking. "You gonna touch. You said you were gonna touch if I showed you." Jesse nodded, more to himself than DB, and reached out. He noted almost absently that his hand was shaking, and he ignored both that and the insane hope that he'd actually feel DB this time. "Uncontrollable," he told himself, but wanting it so badly he could hardly move. Slowly, he leaned in, staring at DB's cock, lifting off the lean belly. "Tell me what you feel," he said, and he wrapped his fingers around it, his thumb brushing over the head. His thumb hit wet and he smeared it, gasping. "Oh, God." "Shit!" DB's hips bucked. "More than just tingles. Fuck." Jesse nodded and stroked him, DB's skin warm under his hand. "Jesus, yes," he whispered. "I can feel you." But how long would it last? He tugged again, squeezed a little, and when DB's cock throbbed he had to reach for his own and clamp down hard as his gut lurched. No way was he going to come in his pants yet. "I feel you, too." DB was bucking and shifting, his cock sliding through Jesse's hand. "Oh, God, do I." "Are there still tingles?" Jesse blurted, not really caring. He was mostly lost in the way DB felt, solid and hot and wet in his fist, and the way DB sounded. Barely taking his attention away from what his hand was doing, he fought with his own fly and shoved his free hand in, grabbing at himself. "Uh huh. Lots. God, don't stop, Jesse. Don't." "Like I'm going to stop," Jesse muttered, jacking them both. "I wish I could suck you, is all." He blinked and froze, both hands stopping. "You stopped!" DB humped up into his hand, panting. "You said you wouldn't." "I just." Jesse stared at him, wondering if he could take the disappointment if he tried and failed. Then he decided that if he never got the chance to do this again, if he couldn't make it work for them even once more, he'd have to spend an eternity being pissed as hell at himself. "This," he said, diving for DB's cock, pretty sure that DB would find a way to make him even more dead if he fucked this up.

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Taste flowed through his mouth and he moaned, wanting to shout but not willing to lift his head to do it. Instead, he just licked and sucked, hoping DB was going to let him keep going. "Jesse!" DB bucked, cock pushing deep into this throat. Jesse shuddered and let DB in, the echo of instinct to gag far outweighed by the fact that he could feel it. Nothing was going to stop him from doing this; he didn't have to breathe anyway. He palmed DB's balls and sucked harder, head lifting and diving again, his jaw already aching. It had been a while. "Oh, God. I didn't think... Jesus." DB's hands slid through his shoulders. "Damn." He didn't think. Jesse couldn't think. All he could do was feel and revel in it and pray to God that he actually was rubbing up against DB's leg and that he wasn't just imagining the whole fucked up thing. No matter what, though, his dick was happy, he was happy, and DB's cock was in his mouth, hard and silky and wet and hot. "Feels amazing. Oh, God, Jesse." DB's cock throbbed, the head swelling. Jesse moaned in agreement; amazing was the exact right word. He sucked at the head of DB's prick, licking at it and pushing his tongue hard against it, tasting. Wanting. He looked up to see DB's face and pressed his tongue against the slit, his hand stroking the shaft in a tight, short stroke. DB was watching him, eyes hot, breath coming in short gasps. "Gonna come. Please. Want." Jesse nodded once and took DB in as deep as he could, swallowing. He wanted, too. Needed it, fucking thought he might explode from it, or vanish altogether if it didn't happen. His spine curled and he whimpered, barely holding on, and swallowed again. "Yes!" DB shouted and humped his face, cockhead swelling even further and then throbbing in Jesse's mouth as DB came in hot, salty pulses. Jesse took it greedily, disbelieving and almost insanely grateful. He licked and sucked and finally kissed his way down the shaft to DB's balls, and suddenly realized he could still feel him. Shaking, he looked up at DB. "Touch me," he demanded. "Try it." DB's hand was shaking as he reached out, fingertips passing through his cheek. Closing his eyes, DB shook his head. Jesse stared at him. "Oh, no," he whispered. He looked down at himself and then leaned forward, just a little. Where he should have felt DB's knee, there was nothing; no heat, nothing solid. "Not fair." Not wanting to see pity on DB's face, he stood up and shoved himself back in his pants. The mug on the desk mocked him, and furiously he struck out at it, expecting it to go flying. He was certainly mad enough.

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The mug stayed where it was and Jesse felt his eyes sting. It was all gone, every shred of sensation. "I'll be back later," he said, not looking at DB. Then he walked out the door and kept going.

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Chapter Five The thing with Jesse was weird -- sexy, but weird -- and it was freaking him out just a little. He hadn't been laid in how long? And now his best chance was with a ghost. It was only familiarity and time that had made the whole "I have a ghost who helps with my investigations" thing seem more or less normal to begin with. And now this. And at least Jesse had made his existence and DB's being able to see and communicate with him seem normal. This touching and coming and moving things business was obviously freaking Jesse out, too. DB decided the best way to deal with it was ignore it. Looked like Jesse was falling right in line with that, too, so the next couple of days they tootled along, a new client needing an employee followed during deliveries to figure out why stuff was going missing, paperwork, arguing about whether or not it was fair for DB to drink coffee and smoke cigarettes in the office. The usual. A couple mornings later, DB caught sight of the morning headlines. Man Shot, in critical condition. Which, while certainly not an everyday occurrence wasn't startling in and of itself. But the man in question was Roger Delaware and the man they had in custody was John Pierce. DB bought a copy of the paper and read the article as he headed up to the office. The whole sordid story was there. Delaware cheating on his wife, breaking it off with the lover when she found out, and John flying into a rage over losing his sugar daddy and shooting the man. The only witness to the crime was in a hospital bed in a coma they weren't sure he was going to come out of. Ouch. Man, DB hasn't seen that coming. He'd thought Mrs. Delaware was sadly mistaken if she thought her husband was going to stop being gay just because she was willing to forgive his cheating. "Morning," DB called out absently as he let himself into the office. He tossed the paper onto the desk. "Look what happened to our case." He was surprised actually that the cops hadn't been by to talk to him at all, although the shooting had happened only the day before; maybe they just hadn't gotten around to it. "Which case?" Jesse asked. He'd been lounging in the client chair, looking for all the world like he was bored out of his mind. DB nodded to the paper. "Delaware. The lover shot the husband."

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"Bullshit." Jesse stood up and leaned over the desk, looking at the paper. "Huh. That's... weird." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I didn't think John seemed the type. If there's a type." "Well, they're claiming all Delaware was to him was a sugar daddy, which doesn't jive with what you told me. But if he was really in love with the guy and got jilted when the missus found out..." DB shrugged. Folks shot each other over less. "Mm." Jesse nodded slowly. "I guess. Maybe. Bet she's freaked, though. She was so sure he'd just stop -- which he did, according to this." Jesse shook his head. "I wouldn't have seen that coming, either." "No, that surprises me, too. I guess she knew him after all." He picked up the paper and glanced through the article again. "They say he's at St. Vincent's. We should go and drop some flowers or something, give Mrs. Delaware some tissues. She's bound to be pretty upset." He knew they didn't have to, but it felt like the right thing to do. She was a client, after all, and he and Jesse had played instrumental roles in bringing this little drama to fruition. Jesse nodded again. "Yeah. And I might kind of... go check on John, too. Maybe." "Okay, but be careful. I mean there might be other ghosts you might not want to run into in a jail cell..." "I can handle ghosts," Jesse said, although there was a note of speculation in his tone. "Never met one in a jail, though. Might be interesting." "Can you affect each other at all? I mean touch and shit." DB thought maybe not, though, 'cause surely Jesse would have been getting some if that was the case, and Jesse'd made it pretty clear he wasn't. And DB'd already decided he wasn't going to think about that kind of thing. "No," Jesse said, rolling his eyes. "Just yell a lot. Which is why I'm not worried. Usually, though, we just avoid each other. Some of them are kind of a mess, if you know what I mean. Depends on how they died. We can't touch anything." He paused and looked the mug on DB's desk. "Usually." DB nodded and changed the topic. "So you coming with me to the hospital? You'll be able to get into his room and see him even if they won't let me." It was a good thing he hadn't bothered to take off his jacket yet, looked like they were heading right back out. "Yeah, of course," Jesse said, apparently snapping out of it. "You might be able to sneak a look at his chart, though, see what the prognosis is. I'd do it, but. Can't turn pages." DB nodded and pocketed his digital camera, just in case, and headed back out. "It's only about a fifteen minute walk and parking's a fortune at the hospital."

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"Makes sense to me." Jesse fell into step beside him, walking through the wall to do it. "You need the walk, anyway." He snorted. "Are you calling me fat?" "Nah," Jesse said with a grin. "Not with those abs." He looked away, apparently realizing that the bare walls of the hallway were fascinating. DB found himself blushing and he walked a little faster, taking the stairs at an almost breakneck speed. The plan to ignore the weird, sexy stuff was not working. Not working at all. Jesse was waiting for him outside. "Stairs are a pain in the ass," he said, looking around. "But not as bad as elevators." "You can just wish yourself wherever anyway," DB noted. Being a ghost certainly had its benefits. Kind of some big drawbacks though -- like the being dead. He headed off toward the hospital, Jesse more or less walking next to him. It made him wince every time Jesse had to walk through someone, so he gave the people he met coming toward him a wide berth. "They can't feel me, you know," Jesse said conversationally. "Just you. Though it is kind of creepy, I guess. Hey, can you see the guy on the corner? The one with the black umbrella and the top hat?" "Duh, I'm not blind." And a guy like that kind of stood out. "He's dead." Jesse stopped walking and stared at him. "Can you talk to him? Want to find out?" DB stopped automatically when Jesse did. "You mean he's a ghost, too? How can you tell?" A lady looked him up and down like he was crazy and went to the far side of the sidewalk as she walked past. Which meant at least that she didn't walk right through Jesse. Shit, it looked like he was standing in the middle of the sidewalk talking to himself. DB shook his head and started walking again, deliberately not looking at Jesse or Mr. Top Hat. "Well, first it's the clothes -- he's a few decades out of date. And then there's the fact that one of his knees is going through the backpack of the guy next to him, just a bit on the left hand side. But mostly it's because his name is Michael and we've talked a bit." DB just grunted and kept walking, though he did look, and sure enough, Jesse was right, the guy wasn't exactly all there. He didn't stop when they reached the guy, though, just kept moving a little faster and didn’t say a word. "Hey, Michael," Jesse said as they passed. "Still waiting for the train?" "It's late," Michael said, sounding kind of pissed off about it. "How long do they expect me to wait?"

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"While longer, man. Just a while longer." Jesse sighed as they got out of earshot. "That's just sad." DB's curiosity got the better of him. "There's no train along here -- why's he's waiting for a train?" He glared at some guy in a ball cap who was giving him the 'you're crazy, dude,' stare. "There used to be," Jesse said. "Long time ago. He doesn't know he's dead. He's been waiting for that train for years. He'll give up in an hour or so and go somewhere else. But he'll be back." "What do you mean he doesn't know he's dead? How could he not know? I mean his fucking knee was inside someone else's pack!" He shot another glare at the next passerby who gave him a wide berth. "I'm not crazy!" he shouted after the business man. Uh-huh, like that was helping his case. DB sighed and went back to keeping his head down and walking as quickly as he could. Maybe he should have eaten the exorbitant parking fee and just taken the car. At least then people would have thought he was singing along to the radio. "Some don't," Jesse said with a shrug. "It took me a little while to figure it out. I mean, I was just there, and then things were fuzzy, and then I was there again. Sometimes it's easier to ignore the dead part." Yeah, he'd bet. DB turned on Union Avenue, relieved to see the hospital up ahead. "Do me a favor," he muttered, trying not to use his lips. "Sure." "Don't point out any dead people at the hospital, okay? I just don't want to know." Jesse chuckled. "Okay. You might want to prepare yourself, just in case. If you can see, you'll see." "I'm keeping my eyes to myself, man!" He got another look, this time from a nurse and he rolled his eyes. "In fact I'm going to pretend I can't even see you before I get myself tossed into the psycho ward." Not another word to Jesse until they were back at the office. He'd just gotten so damned used to Jesse that sometimes he forgot the man wasn't a man at all, but a ghost. "Oh, that sounds like a challenge," Jesse said cheerfully, waving to a nurse. The nurse waved back, which was just not what DB needed to see. "Okay, you don't talk. Well, maybe to get directions or something. I'm not poking into every single room." "I'm going to talk, just not to you!" And he was still doing it. DB shook his head at himself and went to the front desk, giving the nurse his best smile. "Hi there, I'm looking for Roger Delaware's room."

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"Are you family?" the nurse asked, glancing at him and then down at her computer screen. "I'm a friend of his wife's actually. I wanted to see if I could get her a coffee, maybe talk her into going to the cafeteria for a bite to eat or something." "Oh," the nurse said, warming up a bit. "You can't see the patient, but I believe his wife is in with him. Second floor, east wing. Room 2007, the waiting room is at the end of the hall. Just check with the duty nurse if you don't see Mrs. Delaware." "Thank you very much. I appreciate it." He gave her another smile and headed up, taking the stairs when the elevator had a bunch of people waiting for it to show, including someone who he sure as heck hoped was a ghost because ow. God, now he was going to be looking for ghosts everywhere. "Room 2007," he murmured in the quiet of the stairwell. "Go see what you can find out in his room. I'll work the wife." "Yes, sir," Jesse said, grinning. "I'll make sure not to distract you when I'm done." Then he vanished in mid-step. That wasn't distracting, not at all. Which would be why he stumbled up the last three stairs, knocking the shit out of his shin. Damn it. DB took a moment to walk it off on the landing and then headed out, looking for Room 2007 or Mrs. Delaware. He really didn't want to have to bother the nurses. Mrs. Delaware was in the waiting room, looking calm and composed and not at all like a woman who's husband had just been shot. "Hey there," DB said softly, sitting in the chair next to hers. "I saw in the paper what happened." She blinked at him for a moment, then seemed to realize who he was. "Oh," she said, looking down at her lap and then back up. "Yes. Things took a turn. You didn't have to come, but thank you." She smiled politely at him and her eyes slid away for a moment. Every instinct in DB's body started screaming. She was polite enough, but she obviously didn't want him there. In his experience, people who had a loved one shot, nearly killed in an accident, whatever, tended to reach out to any familiar face, not look... well, guilty. "How's he doing?" he asked, patting her hand, playing it casual. "Well, all right, I guess," she said. "The doctor said they'd move him out of Intensive Care later today if he kept stable. He's still unconscious, though." She glanced at him again, her eyes going big and soft. "It was horrible," she told him. The little bitch was acting for him. "Were you there when it happened?"

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"Yes," she said, nodding, and her lower lip trembled. "He'd called... Roger had called that man. And told him it was all over, that he was going to stay with me and that they were through. And then we were talking, he was telling me how things were going to change and we were going to go away, and..." She trailed off and looked at the far wall, staring into space. "So you let him into your house after Roger broke it off with him? That kind of seems like inviting trouble." He winced inwardly. He was trying to make like he was on her side here and that had sounded kind of accusatory. "I didn't let him in!" She turned to look at him again. "He came in through the back door. We were sitting in the living room, and then he was just... there. He yelled at Roger that he wouldn't be thrown away and then he shot Roger. It was horrible." She buried her head in her hands and shook for a moment, her words muffled. "I screamed and he ran away, out the back again. I called 911, and now here we are." He petted her back. "I'm sorry. I know it's a horrible thing to have happened. I'm sure he'll be okay." God, everything about what she said just felt wrong. Hell, Roger Delaware breaking it off with John when she confronted him felt wrong. In his experience, if they were caught cheating they'd beg and lie and cry and ask to be taken back, but if the cheatee turned it into an ultimatum, they dug their heels in and got stubborn. She sobbed pitifully and finally wiped her eyes on a tissue. "I'm sure he will be," she said, polite once more. "It was very kind of you to come by." God, she made his skin crawl, the way she just turned it on and off like that. "You want a coffee or something?" he asked, figuring it was better not to totally alienate her, he might need to question her again. Not to mention he didn't want her to think he suspected her. "Oh," she said, clearly startled. "Yes, thank you." She glanced around the little room and frowned. "There isn't any here, though. The cafeteria is downstairs and I hate to leave. The doctor might come by." "I'll get you a cup, Mrs. Delaware. Cream and sugar?" She nodded and smiled at him. "Thank you," she said again, then looked away, down the hall toward her husband's room. Dismissing him. He headed off to the cafeteria, checking out the hallway, noting that there weren't any cops standing guard or anything. They were obviously pretty sure they had the right guy in jail. He thought maybe he should go see John after he was finished here. See what John's story was, how it held up.

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For all he knew, Mrs. Delaware was just a cold fish, and John had shot Roger Delaware. His gut was telling him different, though. He was almost at the cafeteria when Jesse popped in next to him, narrowly missing a chair in the hallway. "So, dude got shot, that much is right," Jesse said, skipping the formalities of a greeting. He just grunted. No talking to ghosts in the hospital. He was going to remember and not look like a loon. "Right in the gut," Jesse said, waving a hand at him at the right height. "Like the shooter couldn't decide if they wanted to hit his heart or his balls. Sound like a man to you?" He shook his head. It sure as hell didn't. If he'd been the shooter he'd have shot the guy in the chest or the head. Maybe even both and definitely more than once. He put his hand in front of his mouth. "How many shots?" "Just the one. Hit a few organs, had to dig to get it out. Small caliber." Jesse grinned at him. "Girly gun." DB faked another yawn, keeping his hand over his mouth. "Yeah, this is looking like a cover-up." Going over to the line, he ordered a single cup of coffee. Hospital coffee usually sucked and he wanted to get out of here and down to the jail anyway. "I want to know why they just took her word for it," Jesse said, waiting while he got the milk and sugar. "They must have had something. Are we going to see John? I bet he's a mess." Jesse sounded sympathetic, like his mind was completely made up. He nodded for Jesse, paying for the coffee and mulling the matter over. It was a good question. He was going to have to introduce himself to the cops, give them what he had in return for a little information. This was turning into a real mystery. Horrible as it was, given someone had been shot and could die, and someone else was going to go to jail for it, he was kind of excited about that.

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Chapter Six Jesse didn't really want to wait for DB to walk all the way back to his car before heading to the jail, but as there wasn't much of a point in getting there, seeing John, and then waiting around, he went with DB. They didn't say much to each other as they made their way through traffic; there wasn't much to say. Jesse assumed they were both trying to puzzle out what the police had on John aside from the word of Delaware's wife. Which, granted, would hold a fair amount of weight. If nothing else, what she said would at the very least be reason for picking John up and holding him. When they got to the jail, Jesse couldn't wait any longer. "You park," he said to DB, already bracing himself to leave the still moving car. "I'll meet you inside." He didn't wait for a reply, just closed his eyes and went. Leaving something moving always meant a certain amount of adjustment to his new surroundings, and he took a moment to regain his balance before walking into the building. A look at the signs by the elevators told him he wanted to go down to the cells, so down he went, the easy way. After that, he had to wander. Not being able to ask for directions was a pain in the ass sometimes. The jail wasn't over-crowded, thank goodness. Most cells had two men in them, some clearly being held only until they could see their lawyers and post bail, some looking like they were there for a bit longer. One cell held a man who sat on the bunk surrounded by papers, the painted brick walls covered in sheets of what looked like legal briefs. He wasn't John, so Jesse didn't look to closely. He walked down the hallway between two rows of the tiny rooms, peering in at the people inside. He didn't see anyone who he could identify immediately as a ghost, for which he was grateful. Despite what he'd told DB, he really didn't want to get locked into a conversation with some dead prisoner or guard. He kind of figured there would be a certain level of hostility in such a person, really. "Jesus, John. Where are you?" he muttered to himself, looking into yet another cell. On the bunk a figure lay stretched out, a book over his face. Could be John, he figured, so he slid into the room to see. Whoever it was kept on sleeping, though, and Jesse really wasn't up to trying to move the book. He hadn't tried to touch anything since the thing with DB. It would hurt too much if he could, and be frustrating as all hell if he couldn't, so he didn't even try. Instead, he looked around for anything that could identify the man on the cot. There wasn't much; a shirt over the end of the bed, a novel under it. He bent down to read the title, frowning. Really, it would help if they posted names outside the cells. Filed the prisoners alphabetically. Something. "But I didn't do it," he heard a voice insist from down the hall. Jesse popped back out into the hall, listening. It sounded like John. He hoped.

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"Okay, you didn't do it," another voice said. "But she says you did. She says she saw you. The gun was at the scene, dropped when you fled. According to her, anyway. No prints. You don't have anyone to say where you were --" "I was waiting to meet him," John said, as Jesse finally found him. John was sitting on the bunk of his cell, looking up at a man in a suit. His face was pale and his eyes were red. "I got a message to meet him. So I went." "Did you do that often?" the man asked, leaning on the wall a bit and studying John.

"Of course," Jesse said. "You twit."

"Of course," John said, looking confused. "We're lovers. He's married. We stole our time when we

could." He winced when he said 'stole' and looked around at his cell.

"Mm." Lawyer guy kept looking at John and sighed. "So you were waiting for him, in your car, at

the park. And he didn't show or call, so you went home. The police said you were agitated when

you got home."

"Well, yes," John admitted. "Because I was worried. He's never not shown up before."

"Did he tell you his wife had found out about you? She says he'd broken it off with you."

John shook his head. "I didn't know."

Jesse winced as John's expression grew stricken. He felt for the guy, he really did. That was more

than he could say about the she-wolf who was accusing John; her, Jesse didn't feel a thing for.

John licked his lower lip and started to say something, then stopped. He rubbed at his pant leg a

moment and then finally blurted, "Can you tell me how he is? Is he okay? Does he have good

doctors?"

The lawyer stared at John for a moment. "He's alive," he said slowly. "I can try to find out more."

"Thank you." John looked down at his lap and Jesse turned around. He really didn't want to know if

John was having trouble keeping his composure.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours," the lawyer said. "I'm going to go see if I can find a witness at the

park. Oh, how did you get that message to meet him? E-mail?"

"Text message on my phone," John said, clearing his throat. "The police have it."

"Okay. I'll see you later. If you think of anything else, write it down for me."

John nodded, but didn't get up. "I'll be here," he said without humor.

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Jesse was torn between following the lawyer and staying with John, then realized he might meet DB if he followed the lawyer. John, he could get back to. He followed the lawyer down the hall, waiting as the man signed out and looking around for DB. He was almost ready to get in the elevator with the lawyer when the doors for the second one opened and DB stepped out. "Thank God," Jesse said, rolling his eyes and pointing to the lawyer. "He's John's lawyer. No name for him yet, sorry. Talk to him!" "Hey. You're not John Pierce's lawyer, are you?" DB said after giving Jesse a fast, startled look. The lawyer paused and looked at DB as the elevator doors slid closed and he missed his chance to leave. "I am," he sighed. "Peter Taylor. And you are?" "DB Black," DB said, offering his hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm a private investigator." Taylor eyed him as they shook. "And what are you investigating, Mr. Black? The police have this one." "He's confessed then, has he?" When Taylor shook his head, DB nodded and went on. "No, I didn't think so. Mrs. Delaware came to me earlier this week and told me she thought her husband was sleeping with another woman. I investigated and discovered the affair with John. Then I read in the paper this morning that he'd been shot and the cops had arrested the boyfriend for it." DB shrugged. "It doesn't feel right. What's the case against him like?" "Pretty good," Taylor said, moving them both out of the way of the elevators. Jesse followed along, trying not to bump into anything or anyone. Freaking DB out wouldn't help. "He doesn't have an alibi. What was her reaction like when you told her about John? What kind of proof did you show her?" "Well, that's the thing, I didn't have any pictures or anything. I offered to get her some, but she said she didn't need them. She also seemed relieved it had been with a guy instead of a girl and said something about knowing he'd stop once she confronted him. I thought it was a little naive, really." Taylor tilted his head. "Maybe. Huh. She says that her husband broke it off; my client says he didn't, that he had no idea the wife had found out. I should congratulate you on your investigation John had no idea they were under surveillance, and it sounds like they were kind of paranoid about it. Never meeting at the same place twice, that kind of thing." "Well, I'm good at what I do," DB said, looking past the lawyer and right at Jesse. "Sure you are," Jesse grinned. "You have two sets of eyes, dude. You're lucky I stick around." "From what you saw," the lawyer continued, "do you think Delaware would give in easy and ditch John, or would he lie to the wife and tell her he did just to get her off his back?"

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DB shook his head and looked up at Jesse again. "I doubt it," Jesse said with a shrug. "He was all schmoopy and goopy. He had stars in his eyes, DB. Well, when he wasn't coming hard enough to make me dizzy." DB said, "I would have to think no. Maybe he didn't want to be found out, but I think once that particular secret was out of the box, there'd be no putting it back." DB rubbed his neck. "Well, I should go see if they'll let me talk to John. I need to know if he did it or not, or if the wife's setting him up." Taylor looked at DB for a long moment. "Why?" he asked bluntly. "If the wife did it, the police will find holes in her story. Unless you think you can help with the alibi angle...?" "Partly because I'm involved. Whether the wife tried to off him because he wouldn't break it up, because he was gay in the first place, or whether John actually did it, I'm involved. And I'm curious." DB grinned. "It's why I became a private dick, man. Sometimes you just gotta satisfy that curiosity." "Well, if you find out anything let me know, for God's sake." Taylor reached into a pocket and pulled out a business card that he handed to DB. "Anything will help at this point. Just don't bill me." He grinned and backed up a step toward the elevator, passing though Jesse's hip and arm before Jesse could move. "Sorry," Jesse said, pulling back. He wasn't sure who he was apologizing to. "Yeah, I’ll let you know if I find anything that'll help John out. I can't promise I won't put it on your tab, though." DB gave the guy a wink and headed for the sergeant's desk to arrange for a face-to face with John. Jesse wandered down the hall, waiting for DB and the sergeant to catch up with the keys, wondering if there actually was a way to confirm John's alibi. He could at least scope out the place where John had waited, see if there were any ghosts who could point him to real people. He glanced in a cell and winced, knowing that the guy hanging from a bedsheet had been there for years and years. He hoped DB didn't look in. Looked like DB wasn't going to have a chance. The desk sergeant led DB to a small room with a one-way mirror and left him there before heading down to grab John and bring the man, cuffed, to sit across the table from DB. The two men just stared at each other until the sergeant left the room. "Hi there. You, uh, don't know me. I'm a private investigator." "Oh." John blinked for a couple of moments and then tilted his head. "But you know me. You're the one that told his wife."

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Jesse winced and leaned on the wall where DB could see him. "Ouch," he said softly. "Tell him right off you know he didn't do it. Use that word, not 'think'." DB shot a quick glare in his general direction, but then focused back on John. "I am. But I'm here because I know you didn't shoot Delaware." "Great," John said flatly. "Tell my lawyer. The police. Get me out of here so I can to the hospital and see him." "They wouldn't let you anyway, he's in ICU." Oh, good one, DB. Jesse rolled his eyes. "I just wanted to ask you a few questions," DB continued in a rush. "I met your lawyer in the hall and he said you had no idea you and Delaware'd been found out until the police showed up to arrest you?" John stared at DB for a long moment and then nodded. He seemed to fall in on himself, looking exhausted and worried, his eyes dull and his shoulders slumped. "Yeah," he said softly. "I waited for him at the park for an hour. When I got home there were two police cars on the street and as soon as I got out of my car they arrested me. Politely. I didn't even know he'd been hurt until we were halfway to the station, and then they wouldn't tell me anything. They made it sound like he was dead." John's eyes filled, but he blinked the tears away, looking at his wrists. Jesse almost reached out to touch John’s shoulder, but stopped himself before he could. "That sucks," he said, having to do something. "It does," murmured DB. "I mean that sucks, man." DB cleared his throat, aimed another glare in Jesse's general direction, and leaned in a little toward John. "So why were you waiting for him in the park? Did you guys have a date planned?" John shook his head. "You know, I'm not really sure if I want to talk to you. You work for her, you got him shot. You say you believe I didn't do it, but I don't... I don't trust you." Jesse sighed. "Tell him you know he loves Roger. That you don't think his wife does. Other than that, I got nothing, man. Sorry." "I'm not on the payroll anymore, man. I'm doing this because I don't believe you did shoot him. Seemed to me like you loved him. And Mrs. Delaware... she... well, she seems like an awfully cold fish and I wouldn't put it past her to get rid of her cheating husband and set you up to take the fall." DB shrugged. "I'll be honest with you -- I felt sorry for the lady. You think it's easy having your husband cheat on you, and with a man to boot? But if she did what I think she did, then she's totally lost my sympathy." John seemed to weigh his options for a few moments, the fingers of one hand tracing the short

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chain between his cuffs. "We never had standing dates," he said softly, not looking up. "Too easy to get caught that way. We stayed in touch with e-mail and texting, and went with what we could get. I got a text asking me to meet him at the park on Devon Drive, sent back that I would, and went. He didn't show up. He'd never done that before." "Did you save the text?" DB looked excited. "Yeah, but he probably didn't. The police have my phone." John looked up at him and shrugged. "But no one saw me. They'll say I went to his house instead of the park." Jesse shook his head, grinning at DB. "But it shows that Delaware intended to leave his house. Why was he still home if he was going to meet John, right?" "But Mrs. Delaware is saying that her husband had already told you it was over. Why would he send you a text asking you to meet him in the park if it was over? I know it's not much, but every piece of doubt your lawyer can put forward for you will help. It'll make the cops look harder at the missus' story and I tell you, all you have to do is spend five minutes talking to her and her story doesn’t hold up." DB got up and started pacing a little, then suddenly stopped. "Did you guys ever meet during the day like that before?" "Well, no," John said hesitantly. "He worked regular hours. I had free time, but he couldn't take off in the middle of the day. Leaving early was the best he could do, or telling her he was staying late." "Did it make you suspicious at all? And what about the phrasing? Did it sound like Delaware?" "It was a text message," John said, rolling his eyes. "You can't put a lot of personality into 140 characters." But Jesse could see him thinking about it, his brow furrowing. "It said, "Devon Park, 30 minutes. Meet me there?" It had a question mark and that was right, but he usually asked "Can you be there?" instead." He shook his head and shrugged one shoulder. "Sorry. That's not much." "But it's something," Jesse said, standing straighter. "Damn, I wish the man would wake up and talk." "I wonder how close Devon Park is to where the Delawares live..." DB was pacing again, and Jesse could see him mulling stuff over in his head. "So you'd never texted him before and he'd never met you outside like that before, right? Always at a hotel somewhere?" "We texted all the time," John said. "Just not usually to make plans. And we never met out in the open, for obvious reasons." "Hard to mess around on a park bench in broad daylight," Jesse said, rolling his eyes. Not that he'd never seen that, but it really wasn't the sort of thing that cheating men did with their other men. "Okay, well that's something. I know under the circumstances a change of how things are done isn't outrageous, but you'd think he'd be even less likely to meet you in public if his wife knew about the affair..." DB stopped pacing suddenly and sat back down. "Okay. I'm going to go, see if I can find

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out where the cops are on all this. You hang tight and if you remember anything at all that you think might be pertinent, and I mean anything, give me a call. DB Black.” He rattled off his phone number for John. John nodded at him, suddenly looking a little bewildered. "This is so messed up," he said. "I just wanted to be with him, you know? And now he's..." His eyes filled again and he looked away. "Ah, man," Jesse said. "This sucks." Jesse went to John and put a hand on his shoulder, ignoring any reaction DB might have. "We'll get you out of this," he promised, knowing John wouldn't hear and not caring. "Somehow."

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Chapter Seven DB left the police station grumbling to himself. Okay, who was he kidding, he was grumbling to Jesse, even if the ghost had disappeared on him a few minutes ago. After visiting John, he'd gone upstairs again and asked to talk to the detectives in charge of the case. He'd gotten the runaround and finally had someone take his statement. And just as he was about to leave, the guys actually investigating the case, Detectives Hart and Jones, had shown up and made him go over it all again. In fact, he was pretty sure he'd just had the good cop, bad cop routine pulled on him. It was late and he'd had no more than a doughnut and more coffee than any one man should drink all day long. Hell, it was dark already. Damn. He was tired and cranky as hell, and thinking that this having a real mystery to investigate thing was coming up way short in the excitement department. At least if he'd been tailing some cheater he wouldn't be hungry. He was going to hit the McDonald's drive-through and go home. He climbed into the car, wondering where the fuck Jesse had disappeared to. "So, I went by the park," Jesse's voice came from the back seat. "Not a lot of help. Talked to a dude who hangs out there, but as he's pretty much into peeping in the bushes instead of watching what happens out in the open, I couldn't get much. He thinks John was there, but couldn't give me a living person to verify." DB jumped, biting back most of his squeal. "Shit, don't do that. You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days." At least he hadn't been driving. He started the car up and pulled out, heading for the drive-through nearest to home. Man, his hands were almost shaking he was so hungry. "A ghost peeping tom? So when people feel like someone's watching them, maybe someone really is, huh?" Jesse moved himself through the seats to sit in the front, grinning. "Sorry," he said, utterly without sincerity. "And hey, it's not like you didn't know we watch. Or that I watch. It's why you keep me around. Well, aside from the fact that I refused to leave." DB snorted. "Thank you for amending that because, yeah, you're the one that won't go." Which wasn't entirely fair -- he'd gotten used to having Jesse around. Even liked having the ghost around. And after what they'd done... liked it a lot. He could live without the sliding through seats thing. "I'm picking up food and heading home. You could come if you wanted."

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Jesse never had. Come to his house that was; at least as far as he knew. It was strictly business with the ghost. Had been anyway. Wait a minute, had he just propositioned Jesse? It wasn't like he was inviting the guy back to have coffee and discuss the case, because he was all cased out. And there was that whole not really there and couldn't drink coffee thing, too. "Nice phrasing," Jesse deadpanned. "And was that an actual invitation? Well, well." He got a grin and a nod. "Yeah, sure. I'll watch you eat and then we can fight about chess, movies, or whatever else occurs to us." He played back what he'd said and groaned. "I didn't mean it like..." Well, maybe he had, so he shut his mouth and latched onto the new subject Jesse'd opened the door for. "What kind of movies do you like -- hey, I bet you sneak into the movies all the time!" He would if he was a ghost no one but one slightly rumpled, possibly nutjob, private eye could see. "As often as I think of it," Jesse laughed. "Seriously, do people actually pay that much money? God, when I was alive it was about half that. And you didn't have to take out a loan to buy popcorn, either." "Tell me about it. They're shooting themselves in the foot, too, with how cheap it is to rent compared to going to see it in the theatre. Plus the movies are all out on dvd in like six months or less these days. So what kind of things do you like to watch?" He had a nice little dvd collection at home, which probably said a lot more about the sadly lacking state of his love life than his love of movies. Jesse shrugged. "Just about anything. Well, as long as it's not a remake of some TV show, and even then... Charlie's Angels was great." Jesse's grin grew. "Better than the show." DB laughed. "I'd accuse you of being a horn dog, except that you're not into the kind of tail Charlie's Angels has." "I like the explosions," Jesse explained. "Seriously, blow up a couple of buildings and I'm there." "Ah, an action fan, huh? Cool." He loved the tough guys, from John Wayne up through Stallone and Arnie to Jet Li. They hit the drive-through and he ordered a Big Mac meal, super-sized it, and then asked for a Quarter Pounder with cheese as well, and two apple pies. He was starving. Jesse stared at him. "You do remember I can't eat, right?" "You do remember I haven't eaten all day, right?" "I'm sorry, sir? I didn't catch that last one."

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He shot Jesse a glare and shouted into the speaker. "No, that was everything." He was given a total and told to advance to window number two. "That's a lot of food," Jesse told him. "You'll make yourself sick. And why didn't you have lunch, anyway? I mean, even a doughnut. Jeeze." "I'm starving," he pointed out again. "And I didn't eat because I was too busy getting the runaround at the police station. I swear those last two were giving me the third degree like they thought I was suddenly their main suspect." He pulled up to the window and forked over his cash, getting the bag of food in return. Oh, shit, that smelled good. His stomach growled. Loudly. Jesse laughed. "God, just don't make yourself sick, okay? And tell me you're kidding about the cops -- we're screwed if they decide to pull you in." "I've been eating by myself for years now, Jesse. Just years and years. And I don't know if they think I did it, but they sure as hell raked me over the coals, almost managed to make me feel guilty for being in any way involved in the matter." He turned the car toward home, one hand working into the bag and coming up with some fries. He shoved them into his mouth, almost moaning as the food hit his system. "Yeah, well. Cops are cops, I guess." Jesse looked at DB, almost turning in his seat to do it. "Taste good?" he asked with a note of longing in his voice. "Uh-huh. Like fucking heaven." He groped around inside the bag and managed another handful of fries. The third try netted him the Quarter Pounder and he nearly had an accident getting the side of the wrapper off the burger, but that first bite was so worth it. Jesse sighed and gave him a rueful grin. "You do know that you make sounds just like that when you're getting off, right?" "Really?" he asked around a mouthful of burger. "Huh. Well, hungry as I am, this burger is kind of orgasmic." Which was another reason to not let himself go so long without food, because McDonalds and orgasmic weren't really a good fit. Jesse nodded. "Really." He seemed to be staring at DB's mouth, with frequent glances around the car. DB managed to have the whole burger wolfed down by the time he got home and he grabbed the Coke, taking a few long drinks to wash it down before undoing his seat belt and grabbing the food. "I'm on the third floor," he told Jesse, nodding at the four story apartment buildings across the street. "Second one over." You grabbed parking where you could. "Yeah, I know," Jesse said just before he vanished.

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Jesse knew? But he'd never invited the ghost over before... Had Jesse come uninvited? DB headed up to his apartment, frowning over that, not sure he liked it. Not so much that Jesse had come uninvited, but that he hadn't know about it. Jesse was in the middle of the living room, looking around, the one light DB had left on by accident making a pool of light in the corner. "Hey," Jesse said, grinning. "Hey. So you've been here before, huh?" He tossed his bag on the coffee table and toed off his shoes before hitting the couch and going for the rest of his dinner. Jesse shrugged. "Came over one night. That night. But you were asleep, so I left." He seemed remarkably casual about it. "And maybe a couple of other times, but you either weren't here, or were... well, sleeping again. You do that a lot." DB snorted. "Yeah, most of us living folks do." He still felt kind of weird, knowing Jesse'd been here when he was asleep. Watching him sleep. "Yeah," Jesse said agreeably. "I remember." He walked around a bit, looking at the walls. "It's different with the lights on." "Less dark," DB suggested around a mouthful of fries. "More bright," Jesse countered, grinning at him. "And less bedroomy. I don't think I've even been out here. I was in the kitchen once. Heard a noise, but it was just the heater kicking in." DB shook his head. "No more watching me when I sleep, unless I've invited you in, okay?" Jesse looked a little startled, but he nodded. "Okay. Sorry. You don't drool, if you've ever wondered. Just so you know." "No, I can't say I've ever wondered that. Snoring I wonder about. Sit down already, would you? You're making me nervous, hovering there while I eat." Jesse snorted and sat himself down, leaning on the edge of the couch to watch DB eat. "You're getting full," he said casually. "You stopped with the sex noises." Man, Jesse was going to make him self-conscious about eating. "They're not sex noises, they're "oh, that's good food" noises." He did not make the same noises during sex and eating. Not. "Oh." Jesse appeared to consider that for a moment. "So, when you were shooting over my hand and humping my mouth, you were thinking about what? Roast beef on rye?"

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"It wasn't the same noise," DB insisted, his cock perking up at that particular memory. "Maybe you need to hear it again to compare." "The food noises?" Jesse asked, rubbing his chin. The little shit.

He rolled his eyes. "Sure, that's what I meant," he replied before shoving a half dozen fries into his

mouth.

Jesse grinned and looked at him, nodding. "I'm waiting," he said. "Let me hear it."

Rolling his eyes, DB grunted a few times. He couldn't just make those kind of noises for real on

demand, they had to come from the heart. Stomach, cock. Whatever.

"You suck," Jesse said, laughing at him. "Good to know you don't fake it, though."

DB tossed a fry at Jesse, going for sticking out his tongue instead when the missile went right

through the ghost.

"Oh, nice, throw food at the dead guy!" Jesse laughed and looked down at himself and snickered

some more. "It's your upholstery, man."

Ignoring his squeamishness, he pushed his hand through Jesse and grabbed the fry, popping it in his

mouth. Okay, that was too weird and he'd have to make sure not to do it again.

"Oh! Oh, don't!" Jesse said, looking completely grossed out. "That was just... ew. Don't do that.

And I'm still not hearing any sex noises. Or seeing explosions." He stopped looking disgusted and smirked. "One or the other, DB. Come on, gimme." "You have to work me up to explosions," he pointed out, deliberately mis-understanding Jesse. "I don't come just like that, I need a little foreplay." What he really wanted, actually, was a kiss.

He figured he was pretty much not going to get that.

"Oh, you're a funny man," Jesse said, sounding delighted. "Okay, foreplay. Um. How about...

music? Put on some music and at least take off your shirt."

"The boombox is in the bedroom," he admitted. "You wanna move to there?"

There. He'd just invited Jesse into his bedroom, basically admitting there wasn't going to be any

movies or chess, just him and Jesse and whatever it was that was between them.

Jesse stopped laughing and looked at him seriously. "I do," he said finally, standing up. "But I can't

tell you how this is going to go. I don't know if I want for you try to touch me or not; it sucks a lot

when it doesn't work. But I do want to... watch, share, whatever."

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"Let's go see what we can get up to." He wanted to see Jesse naked, wanted that funny, shivery touch that beat his own hand for jacking off. "Well, I'm up to about full mast," Jesse said with a laugh. "Beat you there." He vanished, and almost immediately could be heard giggling in the bedroom. DB shook his head, feeling way, way better than he had earlier. Food, the promise of sex of some sort... yeah, much better. He wandered into the bedroom, grinning at Jesse as he started to undo his buttons. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." "Well, that's to the point," Jesse said, still grinning. He undid his belt, eyes on DB, and tugged his shirt free. "I should see if I can just walk out of my clothes, sometime. But then, what if I did it without meaning to? That could be embarrassing." "Only if everyone could see you. Which they can't, so..." He grinned and shook his head at himself, stripping quickly so he didn't get caught up in watching Jesse's body slowly appear. "So, it would be you, with a client, and me, suddenly naked," Jesse laughed, tossing his shirt to the floor and undoing his pants. "Kind of funny, actually." "Don't you dare ever do that." "I wouldn't on purpose!" Jesse promised, shoving his pants down, his cock bobbing, half-hard. "It would be purely by accident." He kicked off his pants and moved to the bed, his face lined with concentration. DB pulled back the covers and lay down on his back. "You think you can lie on top of me?" he asked, wondering what full body tingles would be like. "Might be weird," Jesse said thoughtfully. "I probably could, though. If it feels like I'm slipping through you, tell me." He winced at that thought, but wanted to do it enough that he was willing to risk that. "Let's try." His cock was already hard, curved up toward his belly, and, God, he wanted something other than his own hand getting him off. Jesse nodded and got a knee up on the bed, then carefully straddled him. "So far, so good," Jesse said, reaching down to stroke his own dick. "I'm liking it." DB's hands twitched and he curled his fingers into his palms to keep from trying to grab onto Jesse's hips. "Except you're supposed to be touching me, not yourself." "Oh, right." Jesse grinned, unrepentant. "Well, let's try this theory of yours, shall we?" He leaned forward and put a hand on either side of DB's head. "Tell me what it feels like," he whispered, lowering himself slowly.

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DB gasped softly as the tingles started, hitting him here and there, and then everywhere. "Tingles. It's good." Not as good as a real touch, but still good, still better than going solo. Jesse nodded. "How about this, does it feel any different?" He shifted, his upper body moving a few inches up, like if he was solid he would have been sliding or grinding against DB. "Makes 'em move," he answered, voice kind of thick, which beat the whimper that he wouldn't let escape. His prick jerked, pushing up into the tingles, and he closed his eyes so he couldn't see the freaky way their flesh looked like it was fused where Jesse was, well, inside him. Jesse made a thoughtful noise and moved again, the sparks and tingles shifting slowly, then a bit faster. "You're so fucking hot," Jesse whispered to him. "Got such a gorgeous cock." He groaned, hips bucking up, which made the tingles go through his hips and his balls and if he thought about it too much, about how that meant that Jesse's body was inside his, it would gross him out. So he just kept his eyes closed and didn't think about it, just felt. "Wish I could kiss you," he whispered. "Shh, I know," Jesse whispered, the tingles spreading over his chest. "More than that, too. Think about my cock rubbing on you, my mouth on you." Groaning, DB wrapped his hands in the sheets, holding on as he started rocking, his hips pushing up and down, making the tingles slide and shiver inside him. "That's it." Jesse's voice was tighter, the whisper turning rough. "Think about me touching you. My cock in your ass." He gasped, then, the tingles suddenly fierce before they backed off a bit. DB did whimper this time, hips moving rhythmically. "Do that again. Please." Jesse groaned and the tingles shot up a notch. "Oh God. Want you. Want to feel you," Jesse said, his voice desperate. "Want your mouth on me, want to feel you." "Yes. Yes, please." His mouth was open, head tilted as he reached for the kiss he was pretty sure they couldn't share, his hips starting to go wild. "Please," Jesse moaned, and DB's mouth shared the tingles running through him, just a brush across his lips and tongue. "God, please." Crying out, DB came, the tingles making it go on and on as he twisted and shifted. Jesse whimpered and the tingles everywhere but his groin vanished. "Jesus." Jesse hissed. "So hot." DB opened his eyes, seeing Jesse sitting on his hips, jacking himself off. "Oh. Wow." He reached out, not even thinking, groaning as his hand went right through Jesse.

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"Don't," Jesse begged, closing his eyes. "Don't want to ruin it." His hand moved faster, his face twisted into a grimace as he jacked himself faster. "Oh, God. I wish... I wish you could." He groaned, jerking as he came, his spunk flying over his hand and landing wetly on DB's belly. DB gasped, hand going to his belly. His own spunk was already there, but he swore to God he'd felt Jesse's come join it. "Jesus," Jesse whispered, staring down. "Is that...?" "I think so. I'm pretty sure. Yeah." He met Jesse's eyes and reached out, slowly, carefully, wanting so badly to touch. His fingers slipped right through Jesse, and he dropped his hand back to the bed with a sigh. "Well, shit." Jesse didn't sound resigned this time, or even sad. He sounded pissed off. "What's the good of this thing, then? Only works on fucking mugs and orgasms. I happen to like the stuff before orgasms! I want kissing and blowjobs and sensation, damn it." He glared around the room and climbed off the bed, reaching for his pants. "Wait." DB reached out, stopping short of actually touching Jesse. "You could lie next to me. It's not exactly cuddling, and I know you don't sleep, but..." Maybe it was selfish, wanting Jesse to lie with him until he fell asleep, but he wanted that kissing just as badly as Jesse, wanted this to be more than just orgasms and tingling and nothing more. Jesse stopped moving and glanced at him. "I don't... I don't sleep. Yeah. That." DB got the distinct impression Jesse was going to say something else, but it appeared that the anger was draining out of him as fast as it had come up. "Yeah. Okay." He walked back to the bed and looked down at DB, smiling a little. "I'll tell you if you snore." Smiling, he turned onto his side, watching as Jesse settled next to him. "You do that." With his eyes half closed, and all tired and sated, he could almost believe he could just reach out and touch Jesse. He let the illusion chase him into his dreams.

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Chapter Eight Jesse didn't hear DB snore at all, but in the morning he informed DB that he really should go see a doctor because a human just shouldn't make those sounds. DB was unamused, and after a bracing round of bitching and flirting Jesse said he'd meet DB at the office and took off. He took his time on the way over there, going first to the park in hopes of finding out something new that would help John. The place was deserted, however, with no one either alive or dead near the place where John had been to meet his lover. There were people on the paths, but they were all alive and no help at all. Jesse wandered a bit, turning over a succession of thoughts in his mind. There had to be some way to help John. Sure, the police would work with the cell phone records, but that could take days, if not weeks, and John was stuck in a cell. DB looked amazing when he came, Jesse thought. Which wasn't at all helpful to the case. Roger was in a coma. John was in a cell. Roger's wife was sitting outside his room, waiting for the man to wake up. DB had tasted so fucking amazing, the one time Jesse had managed to manifest himself. The frustration that he couldn't do it again was going to drive him crazy. Which also wasn't helpful to the case. What would happen when Roger woke up and could tell his side? Well, great news for John, but what about that psycho wife of his? Jesse stopped walking and thought about that for a moment. If he was a psycho, which -- present frustration and the fact that he was a dead guy excepted -- he wasn't, he'd do exactly what she was doing. Stay close to the guy who could hurt her most. And then finish the job if he got a chance. It took almost no time to get to the hospital and into Roger Delaware's room. He was, thankfully, still unconscious. Jesse couldn't open his chart to read it, but to his unpracticed eye everything seemed okay. At least he didn't look like he was trying to open his eyes. Out in the waiting room there was no sign of his wife yet, but Jesse had little doubt that she'd arrive soon. Determined to help, somehow, Jesse went to the office. He popped into the outer room and heard DB moving around at his desk, so he went on in. "Sorry," Jesse said, walking through the door. "I took a detour." DB gave that little start of his -- you'd think after all this time the man would be used to him showing up out of thin air -- and grunted. "What kind of detour?" "Park, hospital. Might hit the jail later." Jesse stood in front of the desk and resisted the urge to lean on it; it lacked subtlety when he sank into things. "We have to do something. Soon. She's not going to let him talk, you know." "You think she'll try to finish the job?" DB asked.

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Jesse nodded. "Yeah. I think that's why she's at the hospital. I think she thought he was dead and now she's worried that he'll come to and accuse her of it." Jesse ignored the part about having no evidence at all that they were even on the right track. Sometimes you just know things. "We have to do something. If we're lucky, Roger will stay out of it long enough for the police to figure things out. But I don't know if we can count on it." "So now we're hoping the guy stays comatose? That doesn't seem right." DB chewed on his lower lip. "I can call the cops and see how things are progressing with the investigation, but I don't think they'd tell me and they already think I have an unhealthy interest in the case." DB sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "This case is way less fun than I thought it was going to be." "It's had its perks," Jesse said with a grin. "But yeah. Okay, how about I whip over and check on John, you call his lawyer. He might at least be able to talk to the police and get them to speed up on the cell phone. If he doesn't, we'll be stuck with trying to catch her in the act of trying again and praying we're not too late." "Yeah, I can do that. And Jesse," DB gave him a warm smile. "I don't think the perks have had anything at all to do with the case." Jesse smiled back at DB and nodded, hoping he wasn't blushing. "Hey," he said softly. "Last night was nice." DB's smile turned into a half smirk and he sat back in his chair, arms going behind his head. "Yeah, it wasn't bad at all." "Liked that, did you?" Jesse asked, smirking as well and admiring the way DB's shirt pulled tight. He looked immensely satisfied, which was gratifying. "Just wish I could have shared your burger," Jesse added, winking. "It wasn't nearly as good as the fries." "The fries that you tried to share by throwing through me?" Jesse teased. DB chortled. "That was funny." "I didn't think it was funny," Jesse said, sticking his nose in the air. "I thought it was hurtful almost as bad as when you cheat at chess." He grinned and winked again. "But nothing is as bad as the way you taunt me with your cigarettes." "You mean like this?" DB leaned forward and grabbed his pack. He slowly, tauntingly, knocked a cigarette out of it, put the end in his mouth, and made a show of lighting up. Then he leaned back and blew smoke rings. Something so smelly and addictive and messy should not be that sexy. "Yeah," Jesse said, forcing himself not to lean forward. "Like that. You have no idea how much I wanted a smoke last night."

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He watched DB's mouth purse to make another ring and suppressed a twitch of arousal. "You're mean," he said, without heat. "You forget that I was there and it wasn't a smoke you wanted." "You sure about that?" Jesse made himself look away from DB's mouth and focused on his fingers instead. Long fingers, strong and blunt, holding the prize. Well, one of the prizes. "Maybe I wanted a lot of things." "Me, too," murmured DB, the teasing gone suddenly, DB's tone serious, kind of sad. All Jesse could do was nod. He knew it. He wasn't sure why they were suddenly feeling what they were, but there wasn't any doubt that there was something going on that went past groping and experiments with sensation. "I'm gonna go to the jail," he finally said, taking a step back. "Where will I find you later on?" DB shrugged. "Here, I guess. Or at home." "Okay. Call the lawyer, all right? See if someone can hover on the bitch for a bit. Or find out what the doctors are saying about Roger's condition." DB snorted. "Yes, boss." "It's about time you admitted it," Jesse said, trying to recapture a better mood. He nodded and left, popping out before he'd even reached the door. He went to the jail, not really expecting much at all, but wanting to take a look at John. Maybe it was only for his own peace of mind, but he didn't like the idea of the man just sitting there, helpless. Even if John didn't know Jesse was there, Jesse thought he deserved at least someone checking on up him. John was in his cell writing in a notebook. He didn't so much as pause when Jesse arrived, which was hardly surprising. "Don't mind me," Jesse said, sitting next to him on the bunk. "I'll just sit here for a minute." John scrawled some more and Jesse took a look, getting as far down the page as "Dear Roger, I pray that you are going to be okay. I miss you, and I'm worried and scared for you", before he had to look away. "Well, damn," Jesse said with a sigh. "This just sucks." "That's what he keeps saying," a voice from outside the cell said. "Over and over. He's a little freaked out. I keep telling him to forget about it and move on, but he don't hear me."

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Jesse glanced over at the door where a man stood in green overalls, looking in. "Yeah?" he said, trying to take a guess at how long the ghost had been a ghost. "I guess you see a lot of it, though." "More than I want," the ghost agreed. "But then, it's kind of rare that we get an actual innocent person in here. Happens, of course, but not often." "You know he didn't do it?" Jesse asked, suddenly interested. "Hell, I don't even know what he's accused of. But I can tell you he don't act like someone who's trying to weasel out. Ten to one he didn't do it. Why do you care?" Jesse sighed, deflated. "I care because... well, because he's in love. And he didn't do it. And the guy he's accused of trying to kill is in danger." The ghost snorted. "Good luck proving it. Might help if you weren't dead, you know." "I know." Jesse knew, but even if he was alive he didn't think he'd be able to do much. He had DB and a gut feeling and that was it. "Hey, has anyone other than this guy's lawyer been in to see him? "His sister. That's about it. She was all crying and asking him why he'd been mixed up with a married man. I left when I heard that part, don't exactly cotton to it, myself. He said something to her about making sure his computer got examined by the police, something about letters that proved that the man was going to leave his wife." Jesse nodded slowly. "Okay. Thanks." Jesse waved as the ghost wandered away and took one last look at John, pouring his heart out on paper again. "He didn't keep anything and you kept it all," he said slowly. "All right, then. We'll show that Roger wasn't the type to throw you away. That'll at least make people wonder, take another look at the lady. Maybe." He stood up and nodded again. "We'll get it figured out. I just hope we do it fast."

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Chapter Nine DB called John's lawyer and discovered that his visit to the cops had made a difference after all. He imagined they would have covered all the angles eventually, but it looked like they were looking at John's computers, and his alibi, really digging into the possibility of him being innocent. Or maybe they just wanted to make sure they had an airtight case -- either way things were moving forward and DB figured it was only a matter of time before something came out that pointed the finger at Mrs. Delaware. He hoped. In the meantime, the hospital wouldn't give him an update of any kind on Roger Delaware, so he decided to go visit. It would give him some time to scope out the wife some more. Though he couldn't help but imagine that each passing moment gave her more time to make her story really solid. He hit Starbucks first, picking up a couple of coffees -- best to let her think he was coming to give her support. She'd be more likely to talk to him that way, maybe let something slip. And maybe she'd let him go in to see Roger if she thought he was on her side. There still weren't any cops posted outside of Roger's room and DB shook his head. Of course, if Mrs. Delaware wasn't a suspect, he guessed it didn't matter if someone was posted there to protect Roger or not -- they weren't going to stop her from being with her husband. The door to Roger's room was slightly ajar and Mrs. Delaware was there, knitting on her lap, hands buried in it. She was looking at her husband with pure hatred in her eyes. It was nasty enough that DB sort of recoiled, taking a couple of steps back so he was out of sight of anyone in the room. Wow, if he hadn't been sure before, he certainly was now. He let the quiet, impersonal atmosphere of the place calm him and then headed back in, coughing a little and knocking on the door, making sure she knew he was coming. "Hi there." He managed to find a bit of a smile for her. "How's he doing? How are you doing? I brought coffee." She looked calm and composed for the most part, her gaze darting to her lap for a moment before she looked up at him. "Oh, thank you," she said, her answering smile just as wan as his. She held out a hand to take the cup he offered and shrugged one shoulder lightly. "We're both as well as can be expected, I suppose. The doctor says he's out of danger from the wound. Now we're just waiting for him to wake up." "Oh? That's great, right? Are you talking to him and stuff? They say that kind of thing really helps." He touched her shoulder briefly, but couldn't bring himself to really play the comforter. Not when he was pretty damned sure she was the one who'd put Roger in here in the first place and was only hanging around to make sure the job was finished.

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"I talk to him all the time," she said before she took a sip of her coffee. He thought she was trying to sound reassuring, but all he could think about was the nasty words she must have been whispering in his ear, how much hate and anger she must have vented at him. "May I?" he asked, pointing to the second chair in the room. She gave him a tight nod and he tugged it over next to hers, sitting and trying not to look like he wanted to be anywhere other than where he was. "Did they say what his chances are?" "Rather good, actually," she said, staring at the bed. "It was a bad shot, if there is such a thing. The only reason he's been out this long is because they've kept him in a drug induced coma to give his organs some extra time to heal. He's expected to make a full recovery. Of course, he'll have to take some time off work and take it easy for a while." "John will be pleased," Jesse said, walking in through the door for once. "Hey, DB." He peered at the bed and shrugged. "He's going to have a stack of love letters to read soon. John's pouring out his heart on paper, poor bastard." DB ignored Jesse, needing all his concentration on fooling Mrs. Delaware. "Hey, that's fantastic news! You must be so pleased!" She sure didn't look like a woman who'd been told her husband was going to make a full recovery. He wondered what she was going to do and when. If the doctor's were confident enough to tell her Roger was going to make a full recovery, it had to be a pretty sure thing. There was no way she was going to be able to let that happen. She turned slowly to look at him, one hand still in her knitting, the other wrapped around her coffee cup. "You don't really like me, do you, Mr. Black? It makes me wonder why you're so interested in Roger's health, what with the man who shot him being in jail already." DB saw Jesse tense a little, watching them carefully. "Careful, DB," he said softly. "Rattler." Man, his acting abilities were really rusty if she'd figured out he disliked her. "I feel partially responsible for his being shot. It did come out of my investigation after all. I'd like to see him recover." "Mm." She looked back at the bed and finished her coffee. "Well, I'm sure you've come across things like this before, doing what you do. I'm sure there are a lot of upset people when you give your reports of cheating and lying." That just rubbed him the wrong way. She rubbed him the wrong way. It made him angry how she was sitting here trying to figure out how to kill her husband while an innocent man was in jail. "You make it sound like you blame me, too. Like I'm the bad guy here. You do remember that you came to me, right? You wanted to know." She snorted, a distinctly unladylike sound. "I wanted to know about a woman. Not some man. I suspected he was unfaithful, not a deviant."

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"So it really makes that much of a difference to you?" DB knew more people felt like her than not, but it still grated, still... hurt, knowing people thought that about him just because he preferred men. He wondered if the deviant label actually accurately applied given the guy he was with was a ghost. "I didn't think so," she said slowly, looking at the bed. Her eyes were hard. "But then... listening to him talk, how he claimed to feel... " She shuddered and turned to look right at DB. "You have no idea what kind of pain that caused." "You think that makes what you did all right? That he was cheating with a man instead of a woman makes it okay to just..." His voice faded away as he saw the realization dawn in her eyes. Shit, she knew he knew. He stood up, chair scraping loudly along the floor. "Oh, oh," Jesse said, moving beside her. "DB." He gestured to the door, his face worried and his body tense. "I think," Mrs. Delaware said slowly, "that it's time to end this. It's a shame you're so interested, Mr. Black. You could have just walked away." "And let you finish what you started while an innocent man goes to jail for your crime." He shook his head, trying to decide if it would be better to try to get her out of the room or just go himself and get someone in here. He was worried that if he left, she'd smother Roger with a pillow or something. If he left it would give her the perfect opportunity. "I think you and I should take a little walk, Mrs. Delaware." "Oh, I don't think so." She stood up, her knitting falling out of her lap. In her hand she had a small, snub-nosed revolver. "My aim will be better this time," she said, pointing the gun at him. "You see, you came in here and killed Roger. I was mistaken about who broke into our house, it was you all along. But it's okay, because after you came here and shot Roger again, I killed you." Jesse snarled, his hand reaching out to push at her arm. "Oh, I don't think so, bitch." When his hand passed through her, Jesse screwed up his face and swore. "Damn! DB, go!" "And have her shoot me in the back?" DB didn't care anymore if she thought he was crazy for talking to Jesse. "Any other ideas would be great, though!" He took a half step back and sure enough, she tightened her grip on her pistol and took proper aim. "They'll know it was you. They're already looking into it. I don't have any motive." "That hardly matters when you're dead and your fingerprints are under mine on the gun," she spat. He could see her finger on the trigger start to flex. "No!" Jesse yelled, stepping partially through her to get in front. He raised both hands and shoved her shoulders hard.

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DB was so surprised by what happened next that he nearly missed his chance. She went flying back, her foot slipping on the yarn on the floor, and then she fell, tumbling over the chair behind her, the stunned look on her face almost comical. The gun went off as she fell, the bullet screaming into the ceiling. It was the sound of the shot that got him moving, and DB pounced on her, slamming at her hand to knock the gun away. He grabbed at her hands, holding them in his as she tried to get away, to buck him off her. "I don't think so, Mrs. Delaware. Not today." She struggled under him for a moment, scratching and trying to get the gun. "Damn you!" she yelled. "I hate him! I'll kill him!" DB could see Jesse beside him, bent low over her with a look of triumph in those eyes and wearing a broad grin. "No, you won't, lady. Not today." He grinned a little wildly at Jesse, and then turned back toward the door, shouting. "Hey! Help! I need some help in here!" He turned back to Jesse. "Man, you'd think that shot would have someone here on the double." "Well, it is a tiny little gun," Jesse said with a grin. "I'm just surprised it didn't wake up Sleeping Beauty. Did you see what I did?" "I did! You were awesome!" Mrs. Delaware wasn't struggling so much as looking around, as if trying to figure out who he was talking to. That's when the door burst open and she went wild, struggling and screaming. "Help! Help! He's crazy! He tried to kill me and my husband! Help me!" Two orderlies grabbed him by the arms, pulling him off her. "Oh, for God's sake," Jesse said, utterly disgusted. "No, he didn't," a rough voice interrupted. "He stopped her from killing me." On the bed, Roger Delaware blinked slowly. "She shot." DB nodded. "The gun's under the bed," he suggested, struggling as he was dragged toward the door. "Get the gun and check out the fingerprints -- I never touched it. Test her hand for gunpowder residue!" Mrs. Delaware shrieked and tried to push past him and the orderlies who were still holding him, damn it!

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A security guard and a nurse stopped her at the door, and the shrieking got louder. "Christ, shut her up," Jesse muttered, coming to stand next to him. "That can't be good for poor Roger." Apparently the nurse agreed and she and the security guard hauled Mrs. Delaware into the hallway, the guard already on his radio. The orderlies didn't seem to know what to do, but one slowly let go of DB's arm and peered at the ceiling. "God," he whispered. "You were lucky, man." "We both were," Roger Delaware said, nodding slowly. "Perhaps someone could find my doctor? I think I'd like to know what the hell is going on."

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Chapter Ten Jesse was still grinning hours later when he and DB finally made it back to DB's apartment. Not even his cautious -- and secretive -- failed attempt to touch DB's arm could dim his excitement. He'd pushed her, it had worked, and DB was still alive. That was worth celebrating. Also worth celebrating was John's release, Roger's statement that John hadn't shot him in the first place, even if he didn't exactly recall his wife shooting him, and the fact that the treacherous bitch was going to be charged with two counts of attempted murder. "Not a bad day's work," Jesse said, making himself at home on DB's couch. "We did it." He was grinning again. DB grinned back. "Yeah, we did." DB came over to stand in front of him. "You saved my life." Jesse looked up at him and nodded slowly. "I guess I did at that. I'm glad." He didn't want to imagine watching DB die, but he couldn't help it. He pushed the ache of it away and said, "Really glad." "Not as glad as I am. No offense, but I'm not interested in becoming a ghost like you anytime soon." "Aw, come on," Jesse protested. "I can do cool shit like walk through walls. Mind you, there are drawbacks." Big ones, and complicated ones. Like how come he couldn't control when he could touch. "Yeah," he said finally. "Being a ghost kind of sucks, overall. Well, at least when there's someone alive you want to be with." DB tilted his head. "Can you touch other ghosts?" "No, I don't think so. Haven't really tried. Don't want to." The only person he wanted to touch was right in front of him. "Well, I was just thinking if I had died, then we could have, you know..." DB shrugged. "I think I'd still rather be alive." "Dying for sex is a bad idea," Jesse agreed. "You know, I've been thinking about this thing a bit. Well, a lot. All the time. Constantly. I have a theory." "Yeah?" DB sprawled out on the sofa next to him, yet for all the seemingly careless sprawl, DB was careful not to touch him. "Yeah." Jesse kind of sank his hand into the cushion a bit and lifted it out again. "When I try, it doesn't work. The times it's really worked have been when I'm not thinking about it, just doing like with the mug, I was really angry. Today I was just desperate and scared. The one time in your office, I could touch you, but you couldn't touch me. See what I mean? But I think that if it works sometimes there has to be a way to control it. I just haven't figured it out yet."

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"Well, even if it never works again, I'm sure glad it worked today." DB reached out, hand hovering over his shoulder. "I wish I could touch you, Jesse. That would make today perfect." "It would." Jesse sighed and closed his eyes. "It really would. A kiss would be better. Isn't that the traditional reward for saving a maiden's life?" DB snorted. "Maiden? Gee, thanks." Jesse smirked and nodded, replaying the feeling of shoving that bitch back. "Fair maiden," he said, laughing. "And I'm the knight in shining armor. It's like a fairytale, see?" "Shining armor." That snort came again. "I'm no one's fair maiden." He could hear DB digging into his pocket and pulling out his pack of cigarettes. "Maiden's don't smoke," Jesse said mildly. He kept his eyes closed and sighed. "Damn, I want one of those, and a really good shot of whiskey. Have one for us, will you?" "I keep telling you I'm not a maiden." The scent of smoke filled his nose. Damn, he really wanted one of those. DB got up and went to the kitchen, came back with a glass of dark amber liquid. "Is that good stuff?" Jesse asked, peering at it. "We deserve really good stuff." He wanted that, too. A smoke, a drink, and then off to bed to fuck would be ideal, really. Jeeze, he was really killing his own buzz, damn it. DB shot back a mouthful, throat working. "Yeah. It's good stuff." The drink was followed up by another puff of his cigarette and DB flung himself back on the couch. "God, I'm tired. Hell, I was tired a couple of hours before the cops let me go." "They were chatty. God, how they could keep asking questions for so long, I'll never know. I mean, sure, Delaware was pretty fuzzy from the drugs, but he knew what he knew. Aside from the thing when I pushed her, it was pretty clear. Mind you, him being dopey was a help with that." Jesse thought about Roger's face when he'd been told that John was accused of shooting him. The disbelief and then sheer anger and protectiveness there had been stunning. "Think they'll let John see him soon?" he asked DB. "I don't see why they wouldn't. The man was released and Roger obviously wants to see him." DB laughed suddenly and grinned over at him. "You realize this makes you cupid, right?" Jesse stared, his jaw hanging open. "Shut up!" He wasn't cupid. "Do you see a bow and arrow? And don't even think about wings or a diaper." Cupid. Jeeze. He was a ghost who happened to want the right things to happen for the right people, was all. And if those people happened to want to be together, well... "Shit." DB started laughing, nearly dropping both glass and cigarette.

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"Oh, stop that," Jesse snorted in disgust. "You're no better. Christ. At least I didn't almost get shot for my trouble." And then he was back to thinking about what could have happened, but didn't. DB was right there. He was okay. He was smoking and drinking and being obnoxious. All the things Jesse loved most about him. Jesse stared at DB and blinked. "I. Oh man." DB stuck his tongue out at Jesse. "Yeah, yeah. You're going to lord this over me forever, aren't you?" Jesse blinked again. He'd never really thought in terms of love before. Blinding lust, sure, but not love. He considered that for a moment and realized DB was waiting for him to say something. "Um. Only until I get tired of it. So, yeah, pretty much." DB groaned and made 'why me' noises, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, well, I can always blow smoke at you when you get too annoying." Perversely, Jesse was pretty sure he'd love that, too. "As long as you don't cheat at chess," he said weakly. "You never know when my ability will kick in and I'll toss a bishop at you." "I keep telling you, I'm not the one who cheats at chess. Besides, if you're going to have your ability kick in I can think of better things to do with it than toss chess pieces." "Tossing is tossing," Jesse declared, looking at DB's crotch. "It's all a matter of preference what gets tossed, is all." "Jesse? Could we call it something other than tossing when you're looking at my package like that?" "Jerking?" Jesse suggested, not looking away. "Stroking? Jacking? Any of those work better for you?" "Oh, yeah..." DB licked his lips and then shot back the last of his drink, tossing his cigarette butt into the glass and putting it on the coffee table. "Yeah." "Which ones?" Jesse asked softly, watching as the bulge grew in DB's pants. "I could probably come up with more, if you wanted." "You said 'come,'" murmured DB, eyes on his hand, on his lips. "I said 'up', too." Jesse pointed to DB's groin and nodded. "Which you are. So we have... up, tossing, jerking, stroking, jacking, and come. We can add in fondling, petting, watching, and me touching you, if you want." Jesse licked his lips, just a flick of his tongue, and added, "Please."

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DB nodded, reaching over to him, hand dropping away just shy of sliding against his face. "Wish I could return the favor." "Someday," Jesse said, choosing to believe that was true. "We will. But for now this can be enough." He nodded once and reached out, his hand stroking along DB's jaw. "At least I can touch you." "Yeah." DB nuzzled into the touch as best he could. "God, I want you." "Entirely mutual," Jesse assured him. He was pretty sure that even if DB couldn't touch him, he'd be going off like a firecracker anyway. "If you could touch me, what would you do?" "I want to fuck you, Jesse. I want to be inside you." Jesse groaned, his cock throbbing. "Yeah. God, yeah." That would be perfect. He dropped his hand to DB's lap and rubbed. "I want that. Bet you'd feel incredible in me." "Uh-huh. You'd be so tight and hot and..." DB groaned, hips pushing. "...Ready," Jesse whispered. "Ready for you. Wanting you, moving with you, wanting more and harder." He looked down, paying attention to where he was touching. "Undo your pants," he said. "Let me see you." DB tore at his belt and tugged the pants open. DB pushed his underwear out of the way, big, fat cock springing out. "Yeah, nice," Jesse said, mostly to himself. He shifted around to get the best angle he could, one hand on DB's prick and the other cupping his balls. "You'd feel so good in me, fill me up and make me yell." He stroked as best he could, trying to touch everywhere at once, and ignored the way his own erection was pushing against his fly. DB groaned. "Shut up, Jesse." Jesse didn't want to shut up. He wanted DB to fuck him, he wanted to feel it. And if he couldn't have that, he'd settle for having the man incoherent under his hands. "And then," he said, pushing his hand back, under DB's balls, "I'll fuck you." That earned him another groan. "Fucking make me want you, Jesse. Want that -- fucking and fucked. Want to hold you afterward." "Uh-huh." Jesse played with DB's cock and leaned against him carefully. "Kisses and whispers and the taste of your mouth on mine. I want it all. Want you." DB's mouth opened, his head tilting and leaning in a little, like DB was going to kiss him. He swore he could feel the warmth of DB's breath against his lips.

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Closing his eyes and not expecting anything at all other than another disappointment, Jesse moved to kiss him back, his thoughts only on what he had in his hand and the increasing pressure in his pants. "I think I love you," he whispered, just before his mouth met DB's. DB froze, Jesse could feel the tension in him. "What?" Jesse had no idea what he was supposed to do, so he kept going. He slid his hand along DB's cock, kept his eyes closed, and said it again. "I think I love you. It certainly felt like it when I almost lost you to that psycho bitch today." "Oh. Wow." "Is that a good wow or a get the hell out of my apartment wow?" Jesse asked, opening one eye a tiny bit. "Because if you want me to go, I'm gonna have to jerk off first. Just so you know." DB was looking at him, a little half smile on his face. "Don't go. The jerking off is still allowed. But do me first." "I'm trying" Jesse pointed out, looking down at DB's prick as relief swept over him. He slid gracelessly to the floor and got a closer look. "You know, this is without doubt the prettiest cock I've ever seen." "Have you seen a lot of them?" DB asked, but his voice was husky, hands digging into the cushions. "I'm a ghost," Jesse reminded him. "There's a difference between how many I've seen and how many I've had." He teased a bit with his fingers and grinned up at DB. "I've seen a lot more than I've been involved with. But this one is by far the best." "Just don't stop," murmured DB. "Love that tingle. Love that I can feel you touching me. Sort of." "Better than nothing at all," Jesse agreed, stroking him again. "I like that you can feel me, a little. But then again, there's nothing wrong with watching you take care of yourself, either." Jesse reached down and adjusted DB a little. "I really do like to watch," he admitted. "Even before you," DB groaned, pushing up again before settling back, eyes starting to look a little glazed. "Before you were a ghost?" "Yeah." Jesse thought he might be blushing. "But only with people who knew, of course. Mostly." "Perv," DB accused, laughing breathlessly. "Says the man getting a handjob from a ghost," Jesse shot back, grinning. To prove his point he moved his hand faster and dipped his head, tongue out to lick over the head of DB's cock.

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DB gasped and started tugging at the buttons on his shirt. It fell open and DB ran his own hands up, fingers tweaking the hard little nipples. "Oh, God," Jesse groaned, watching. "Yeah. Gimme a show." He licked again, pumping DB's cock and hoping that he was giving DB enough sensation. It was hard to tell. With his free hand, he ripped at his own zipper, skipping the belt and button entirely as he tried to get to his dick. He must have been doing something right, because DB was making more noise than could possibly be coming just from touching his own nipples. And writhing. God, Jesse could just imagine how that would feel beneath him. He gripped himself hard, trying not to come before DB, but it wasn't easy. He wanted. "That's it," he said, everything speeding up -- his hands, his mouth, everything. "Show me. God, I want you. Going to make it happen, I promise." DB cried out, a full body shudder going through him as he came. "Yes, yes, yes," Jesse chanted, watching him. Jesse touched DB through it, one hand on him all the way, the other stroking himself rapidly. "God, yes." DB kept moving, kept pushing up into his fingers, more slowly now, coming down. "Yes!" Jesse yelled once more, his cock twitching as he started to come. He began to fall back, but managed to change his direction so he fell on DB's leg instead. It wasn't until he'd stopped shooting, still feeling his release, that he realized he was leaning on DB for support. Careful not to move, not to lose the connection, he whispered, "Yeah. I love you." "Cool," murmured DB, hand landing on his head, stroking. Not going through him. Stroking. Jesse didn't say a word, just let DB pet him. He had no idea how long it would last and he had no intention of breaking the spell by accident. He stayed still, trying to memorize the feeling. DB had long fingers, broad and strong. They were warm and he could feel them, really feel them. "Your hair is soft," murmured DB. "Oh, my God!" DB's hand went through his head and he went through DB's body and halfway into the couch before he stopped himself. "Did I? Were we...?" Jesse sighed and righted himself, then climbed onto the couch next to DB. "We were," he said with a nod. "And it was wonderful. Apparently, if neither of us is thinking about it, it works." He grinned and nodded. "Well, not exactly. But it at least proves that it is possible for you to touch me. We just have to fine tune a bit. A lot."

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DB nodded, smiling over at him. "Practice makes perfect, right?"

"Right. And there's the added bonus that the practicing is pretty fun." Jesse beamed at him and

decided that for the moment, though, he was just going to enjoy the afterglow.

DB nodded and then asked softly. "Did you mean it?"

Jesse's smile dimmed to something softer. "I did," he said in a low voice. "But I know it's not easy

to love someone who's not alive."

"It's not easy loving someone who's alive, either, but I'm glad you do."

Oh yeah, this afterglow was rocking.

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Chapter Eleven DB walked up the stairs and along the corridor, past the dentist's office, the lawyer's office, until he hit the door reading Black's Private Investigations. He had his coffee and little brown baggie with two doughnuts -- a chocolate glazed and a blueberry burst, which was disgusting, but it was also Jesse's favorite and he figured it was only twenty-five cents, who cared if it didn't actually get eaten -- in one hand, while he unlocked the door with the other. He sauntered on back to his office. "Morning." "Morning," Jesse said back, glancing up to smile at him. He was sitting behind DB's desk, his feet up and crossed at the ankle. "You're late again." DB snorted. Business was still slow and nobody ever showed up at a PI's office before noon. "Did I miss a hoard of potential clients?" "Yeah, a whole line of 'em." Jesse grinned and righted himself. "What's in the bag? Anything good today? Oh, and your computer has been making e-mail pinging sounds this morning. I bet it's more porn spam." "Doughnuts. And cool. Porn. Move your ass." He set his bag and coffee down, shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack. "Bossy," Jesse said with a sigh. But he moved, only walking a little bit through the desk to sit in the client chair. "Hey, you know what we need? A chair just for me. Can put a sign on it -- do not sit here, this seat reserved." He grinned and pointed to the corner by the window. "Right there, so I can be obnoxious where you can see me." He just barely managed to keep from snorting again. "Right. And when people ask -- because if it has a sign on it, they will -- I'll just tell them that's for my partner the ghost. That doesn't look certifiable at all. Nope, very normal." "People don't expect private investigators to be normal," Jesse said with a roll of his eyes. "Besides, they might like it. You can be the ghost guy. Maybe get some weird cases that way that you can charge more for. Well, until we can't solve any weird ones, anyway." "Oh, yeah, sure. The ghost guy." He did snort again this time. He sat down and took out the doughnuts, splitting open the blueberry junk-filled one and using the bag as a plate for it. The blueberry stuffing sort of oozed out all over the place. It was the best he could do for Jesse -- no way was he going to eat it. He bit into his own chocolate glazed and sort of stopped mid-chew. Maybe the ghost idea wasn't such a wretched idea after all. "I wouldn't advertise it or anything... just sort of let word of mouth

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spread the story." The big company that had stolen most of his business didn't need a gimmick, but

it couldn't hurt him any.

With a ghost assistant or crazy, both would be a draw...

Jesse smiled slowly and leaned forward, peering at the blueberry goo. "Uh-huh," he said. "And who

knows. With my help and being able to talk to other dead people, maybe we actually could solve

weird stuff. Hey, is that one for me?" He stuck his finger through the blueberries and grinned. "Aw,

that's sweet."

"Fuck off. I was going for a healthy choice and forgot how icky that blueberry crap was." He was

about to put his feet up when the front door opened.

"Hello? Mr. Black?"

He waved the young lady in. "Come in, come in. Wait! Don't sit. Come on, Jesse, let the lady have

the chair." He gave the woman a smile. "Sorry, this rude fellow is my partner Jesse. He's a ghost,

but in some cases that's a plus."

Jesse stared at him and then started to laugh. "Hello," he said as he stood up. "Don't push it, DB.

Just let it happen. And I so want a nice chair, not some hard, wooden thing, okay?"

Their potential client blinked at him and looked at the chair as if it was going to bite her. "It's okay,

he's not sitting there anymore. And the big advantage is that we both work for you for the price of

just me." He gave the gal a wink and she chuckled, sitting down and pulling out a packet of letters

from her purse.

"I was hoping you could help me find the person who wrote these."

DB took the letters and started glancing through them.

The front door opened again and DB looked up to see a gentleman in a suit come in. "If you'd take

a seat in the waiting room, sir, I'll be right with you."

He glanced over to where Jesse was leaning against the wall and grinned.

He might not be able to kiss his lover, but business was definitely looking up.

end

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