Fish & Chips (Cut & Run 3)

“There isn"t anything you want to splurge on?” Zane asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Maybe if we spend some of it now, the Bureau won"t find out about it.” That smile was still in place, and he was clearly holding back laughter.

Ty blinked rapidly at him, shocked by his words. Zane had brought him a $10,000 poker chip a couple of nights ago, just to watch Ty goggle. But this? “Are you saying you actually won half a million dollars?” he asked incredulously. Zane nodded and shrugged one shoulder. Ty sat down hard beside him. “Are you shitting me?” he asked with a laugh. “Jesus, Zane. Let"s go to Vegas when this is over.”

Zane laughed aloud. “Told you I was good at poker.” He shook his head and stood again, starting to pull off his jacket. “I"ll warn you, though. Armen"s going to be cranky for a while.”

Ty groaned and flopped to his back. “He"s probably going to order Del to kill you now. I hope you bought yourself something nice.”

“I"ve got your back,” Zane said as he advanced on the bed and knelt on the mattress, one knee on each side of Ty"s thighs, and he leaned over him. “And your front,” he drawled. “C"mon, doll. It wouldn"t be right if we didn"t go out and celebrate tonight.”

Ty snorted and shook his head as he looked up into Zane"s eyes.

“Or,” he said slowly, “we could stay in and celebrate. Spend your ill-gotten gains on room service, not have to worry about being killed, and I could drop the accent for the night.”

Zane"s gaze turned hungry and intense as he focused on Ty. Ty loved that look in his eyes. “I could be easily swayed to that idea.”

Ty bit his lip and raised his chin just slightly, shifting his shoulders in invitation. He and Zane both knew he didn"t have to actually say anything to sway Zane. And Zane didn"t disappoint; he leaned down to kiss Ty rather sweetly. “It"s not very often I could say

„you can have anything you want, baby",” Zane practically purred. “But now is one of those times.”

Ty smiled serenely, trying to keep the hint of melancholy out of it. He knew Zane meant what he said. The Bureau had no way of knowing he"d just won all that money. They could go out and blow it all, and no one would be the wiser. But Ty had never been a very materialistic man.

“Only thing I want is you,” he whispered.

AFTER the scuba diving scare the day before, they agreed to skip the WaveRunner rides and snorkeling in favor of trying to figure out how to break something—anything—in this seriously f**ked-up case. Ty had known going in that they wouldn"t see much action. They were on the periphery of a larger investigation; they knew that. But he and Zane weren"t likely candidates to sit around and do nothing for long.

There was a meal tonight with everyone in attendance. But while they were sure to learn about the coming “meeting” that was planned at that dinner, Ty preferred to be a step ahead. It was driving him crazy that they couldn"t even take baby steps. So he was scouring the books Del Porter had used to make notes, trying to glean anything of use from them.

So far he"d been unsuccessful.

He had proposed a search of Armen"s suite, but Zane had vetoed the idea. Ty was still of the opinion that they would find the information they were after in Armen"s stateroom, but he couldn"t make the search alone. Zane wasn"t in the mood to hear him out, and probably for good reason, considering the very real possibility that Armen was trying to kill one or both of them. And Ty would find no help from their support team. He and Zane had tried yet again to hunt down one of the FBI team members, to no avail. Some support team.

When Ty ran into any of those yahoos, he was going to give them an earful. Earful of pencil tip, preferably.

He couldn"t make heads or tails of the gibberish written in the books, and trying was starting to give him a headache. Finally, he tossed the book onto the table and leaned his elbows on his knees, rubbing his temples with his fingertips. When that didn"t help, he took one hand and searched for the pressure point between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing hard. Warm hands settled on his shoulders and began to knead at the base of his skull, working at the stiff, sore muscles in his neck. Ty groaned softly, continuing to squeeze at the pressure point until that and the fingers at his neck began to force the headache back.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“You"re stressing,” Zane said. “More than usual. Not that it"s unwarranted.”

Ty sighed heavily. He put his hand near his head, searching for an analogy that Zane could identify with. “I"m just… getting too much input,” he tried in a frustrated voice.

“Too many details, not enough context,” Zane said.

“Yes,” Ty said in relief. He leaned more into Zane"s hands.

“Normally I"d be profiling the criminal, but we don"t even have a real crime. We can"t look too close at the rock wall or scuba incidents or we blow our cover. And without any concrete information, anything we can glean from all this is just… educated guesses.”

“Not even all that educated, for all we"re in the dark and cut off from resources.” Zane continued to massage the knots in Ty"s neck, and his fingers were warm, catching on Ty"s skin. Ty craned his neck to look up at him, resting the top of his head against Zane"s belly.

Zane stopped the rubbing and looked down to meet Ty"s eyes.

“Too hard?” He gently pressed his fingers against one of the recalcitrant knots.

“I"m not as sore as I was,” Ty murmured. “It just feels good. Are you still opposed to searching Armen"s suite?”

Zane kept up the petting, the fingers applying more pressure. “I think the chance of finding something useful is less than the chance of getting hurt,” he murmured. It wasn"t really an answer to the question.

But it wasn"t the flat “no” he"d given Ty earlier.

Ty raised one eyebrow in the mischievous smirk that Zane was probably all too familiar with. It probably looked odd upside down.

“That"s a solid maybe.”

“There are a hell of a lot of questions we don"t have answers for to try a search like that. We don"t even know if we can get into the room without the key card. Do you plan to pick Armen"s pocket?”

“I"m actually quite good at that,” Ty told him frankly. He moved, sliding away from Zane"s hands regretfully. He stood and turned to face Zane, and he winced as he said, “I kind of had a different idea.”