May 26th, 1929

Fex didn’t get another chance to talk to Nicoletta after they were debriefed. In fact, he hadn’t seen her in more than a week. They were both being given a break from training as a reward for their successful mission, according to Mrs. Dunfre. When he’d asked about Nicoletta, he’d been told she was attending to ‘personal matters’ which one of their usual soldier-escorts heavily implied had to do with ‘lady business.’ 

Fex was sympathetic. He was glad he was able to use his days of liberty attending to more pleasant things. Like planning another visit to see Vano.

First he went to the commissary and bought a few items, including a deck of cards and a cribbage board. Then he went to find Mrs. Dunfre’s office. It took some detective work and ultimately a bit of charm with a typing pool girl to find the door marked ‘Division 47: Op. PYRE.’

There were a number of standard military-issue desks and chairs filling the office, most occupied by people with stacks of papers and racks of folders in front of them. A few curious staffers seated closer to the door looked up when he entered, but they quickly resumed their focus on their work. 

One didn’t.

Tall, blond, broad-shouldered, and a little paunchy, Robert Droste would have stood out from a crowd even if he hadn’t been the one to recruit Fex to Operation PYRE. He pushed back from his desk with a squeak of burdened chair springs, and came around to offer a bright smile and outstretched hand.

“Fex Woodward!” he said, “What brings you here? I understand you’re turning into quite the field operative.”

“Ah, well,” Fex said. “Yes. Thank you.” He pushed away memories of Droste yanking on Nicoletta’s leash and ignoring her soaked shivering—of all the ways the man had made it clear she was no more than a dog. A cur, at that.

“What can we do for you on this fine day?” Droste continued. “I trust you’ve settled in and have everything you need.”

“Yes, thank you. I was hoping to speak to Mrs. Dunfre, or someone else who can help me,” Fex said. “There’s a man at the hospital I was brought in to consult on as a, ah, a specialist apothecary.”

Droste looked interested. “And?”

“Well, I was hoping to see how he was faring,” Fex continued. “I had promised him I’d visit. He seemed a little lonely, and well, I have no one here I can really call a friend, so…”

“Say no more,” Droste said. He clapped Fex on the shoulder, like the oaf he was. “I can help you find the chap. We don’t need to interrupt Mrs. Dunfre’s day for something so simple.” He put a finger to the side of his nose like he was sharing a secret with Fex. “She does hate interruptions.”

“Ah,” Fex said again. “Well, then it’s a good thing I found you.”

“Indeed!” Droste guided Fex over to his station and pulled an empty chair from one of the vacant desks out for Fex. When they were both seated—Droste’s chair groaning again when he sank into it—Droste said, “Tell me the fellow’s name and I’ll call over to the hospital and see if he’s allowed visitors.”

“Vano Heron,” Fex said. “He was having a severe asthma attack when I saw him.”

He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t mention that Vano was Nicoletta’s brother, though with the common surname, that was undoubtedly obvious. 

But a blink and an unreadable pause was Droste’s only response to the name. Maybe he didn’t know?

“He was one of Dr. Bignall’s patients,” Fex added, hoping that would help.

“Well, let’s see if we can find him,” Droste said, resuming his veneer of joviality. He picked up the receiver and said, “Hospital switchboard, please.” After a moment he said, “Yes, hello. I’m looking for information on a patient of Dr. Bignall’s. A Vano Heron. …  No, sorry, I’m afraid not.”

He gave Fex an encouraging look and mimed someone walking with his fingers.

“Yes. Yes, I believe that’s the man,” he said. “He’s still a patient? Wonderful! And is he allowed visitors? … Wonderful!” He gave Fex an exaggerated thumbs up. “Yes, I’d say in a quarter hour or so. Check in at the front desk for a visitor’s pass. Got it. Thanks, doll.”

He put the receiver back in its cradle with a soft click. “I’ll get you a car,” Droste said. “Assuming you’re ready to visit him now?”

“Oh, yes,” Fex said. He felt quite pleased with the way his plan was coming together. “I have everything I need.”

“In that case…” Droste didn’t bother to finish the sentence. He just picked up the phone again, and this time called the motor pool to ask that a car come to building Echo Nineteen.

“There you go,” he told Fex happily, when it was all arranged. “I’ll just walk with you to the door, so they know you’re the passenger. I don’t mind a breath of fresh air.” He kept up the jovial chatter until he closed the car door for Fex. It was hard to believe this genial man was the same one who had been such a tyrant to Nicoletta. 

The driver took him to the hospital and told him to have the desk call for a return ride when he was ready. The clerk gave him a visitor’s pass and helpful directions. And on Vano’s floor, a passing nurse volunteered to lead him to the correct door. 

Fex knocked a little tentatively, not wanting to wake Vano if he was sleeping.

Vano’s “Come on in!” came quickly, in the same bright voice Fex remembered. When Fex pushed the door open, he was greeted with the sight of Vano gingerly easing himself out of bed. Vano was scruffy and unshaven, with wild black curls tumbled around his wan face. Still, he looked miles better than that first time Fex had seen him. For one thing, he was breathing easily. A miracle when you considered how desperate for breath he’d been that night. He was still dressed in a too-loose hospital gown; it flapped open in the back as Vano stood.

“I brought cards,” Fex said, by way of greeting. “And a cribbage board. If you still want to play.”

The giant smile on Vano’s face was as bright as sudden sunlight through parting clouds. “Do I still want to play? O’ course! I didn’ expect to see you back so soon.” 

He tugged a small wheeled tray-table over to the side of the bed and sat carefully back down. He was young, but he moved like an old man with rheumatism and gout, Fex thought. He must have been terribly hurt in that months-ago car crash with Nicoletta. 

Vano, blissfully oblivious to Fex’s concern, gestured at a wooden chair—the same one Fex had sat in by Vano’s bedside once before. “Pull up a seat and stay a while. Can I get you anythin’?” Vano was still grinning like Christmas and his birthday had both come early. “The food ain’t much, but they have coffee if you don’ mind swill.”

“I suppose swill will have to do,” Fex said. He pulled a foil-and-golden-brown-paper-wrapped bar from the sack with his commissary purchases, and pushed it across the table towards Vano. “We can mitigate the taste with some chocolate, if you’re allowed.” 

Vano’s dark eyes widened with delight. He looked up from under his curls and gave Fex a sly wink. “What the nurses don’ know won’ hurt me, oui?” His hand twitched like he wanted to reach for the chocolate, but was trying to be polite.

“Chocolate is a well known medicinal,” Fex said. “And I am an apothecary. I’ve even used it for asthmatics before.” He returned Vano’s wink, feeling a little rakish. “Shall I go see if someone can bring us that coffee?”

“By all means, Doc,” Vano said, with a little flourish that had the dual effect of illustrating his words and disappearing the chocolate with some clever sleight-of-hand, “but let’s keep the chocolate out o’ sight, hm?” 

“Bully plan,” Fex agreed. “And you can call me Fex. Doc is a little… impersonal. If you know what I mean.”

“Fex it is!” Vano said with a grin. He pushed the mini-table away to stand again. It still looked like he was being careful about some injury or pain—subtler this time, but hard to miss.

Vano’s voice dropped low and husky. “I’m not really s’posed to be amblin’ about without a nurse, but if we just act like lazy cats I bet I could take us right on down to the canteen.” He smiled, and it was all charm. Bumping Fex’s shoulder with the back of his hand, he said, “You’ll stand for me, right?”

“Of course I will,” Fex said, “But we don’t want to play cards there, do we? Hop back in bed and I’ll get one of those volunteer girls in the striped pinafores to fetch us some coffee.” When a flash of disappointment rolled over Vano’s face, Fex added, “Later I’ll find us a blanket and a proper wheelchair and we can go for a walk.”

That perked Vano back up and turned his smile genuine again. “Well, then, that sounds like a right good bet.” He glanced at the paper sack holding the promised cards and cribbage board, but was too polite to reach for it. Instead he pulled back the sheet to check the possibly-contraband chocolate, then carefully covered it back up, but it was clear his attention was elsewhere. With what seemed to Fex to be poorly feigned nonchalance, he asked, “You see my sister, by chance?”

“I see her most days, actually,” Fex said. “We just completed a… well, a work function. Not sure how else to describe it. Anyway we just completed a big project, so we’re off for a few days now. Since I had a little time I thought I’d come see you.”

Which begged the question, he realized, of why Nicoletta hadn’t. He should have thought of a better explanation for his free time. He pushed quickly on, hoping Vano wouldn’t ask.

“She’s doing really well. Color in her cheeks and all. I don’t see her much outside of work, but she’s got plenty of spunk on the job.”

Vano gave a startled burst of laughter. “Like a skunk with new stripes.” He opened his mouth as if he was going to say more, but his lips clamped shut into a thin line instead, his good humor replaced with something almost like suspicion. “You not… not stuck on her or nothin,’ are you?” He gave Fex a not-so-subtle up-and-down eyeballing.

Now it was Fex’s turn to break into startled laughter. “Ah. No. Not in the slightest.” If Fex’s cheeks were as red as they were warm, Vano had to know something was up. And that little once-over… Was it a sign? The sign? “You know, as an apothecary,” Fex said, as if he were completely changing the subject, “I grow some of my own supplies, including flowers. I’ve actually been trying to cultivate a green carnation as a novelty.”

That was about as blatant as he could be without outright saying he generally preferred the company of men when it came to intimate matters. And if Vano didn’t get the common reference, then Fex could put an end to this ridiculous crush. Which was all this was, really. He had to admit that to himself. A crush on an absolutely adorable young man with messy black curls and alluring green-gold eyes, over an all too sensuous looking mouth.

Vano looked at him blankly for a moment, before he responded with a half-interested, “Oh.” But seconds later he gave a much more enthusiastic, “Oh!” He straightened up in the bed with a wince; likely the injuries he was nursing had twinged at the movement. “I— I—” he sputtered, with wide eyes over suddenly flushed cheeks. Then he seemed to recover, leaning both his elbows on the little table, with his chin resting on his laced fingers. “I’ve never really seen a green carnation. Please, tell me more,” he said, with over-acted innocence. Knowing eyes held a mischievous twinkle.

Fex couldn’t have hidden the broad grin that spread across his face without the heaviest of glamours. And he didn’t want to. “They’re quite rare and valuable,” he said. “When you’re well I’d love to take you on a tour of my garden.” 

Fex did have to wonder if Vano meant anything by ‘I’ve never seen one.’ Was Vano a novice? But he’d understood the meaning coded in the unusual flower, and he certainly flirted with a confidence that could only have come from experience. If he was otherwise a greenhorn, Fex would be more than happy to teach him a trick or two. 

“I’m always interested in a garden tour,” Vano purred. He paused a moment, considering, and added, “We might need a heavier blanket for that.”

They were definitely not talking about horticulture. “When you’re well,” Fex said. Although actually, there was a great deal he could think of to do that wouldn’t be terribly strenuous for Vano. “Well enough, anyway,” he amended with a sly grin.

**

Vano couldn’t be 100% sure since it had never happened before, but he was still reasonably sure that he’d either just propositioned, or been propositioned by, another man. 

He set one hand on the table and with the other tugged at his earrings, a whole line of them up the edge of his ear. “And jus’ how well do I gotta be to visit this garden?” 

He hadn’t meant to say that. Not really. Like so many things in his life, it just… came out. But once out, he had no desire to take it back. Though he did wish he knew exactly what he’d just asked.

Across the table Fex gave the question some serious consideration. Lips pursed, Fex ‘Hmm’ed before finally answering. “Well, we wouldn’t want to trigger your asthma. And of course you’d need to be able to move about without too much pain.” He reached out and Vano started to shift as well before realizing that Fex was patting his arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry,” Fex said, “we can always play cards and drink bad coffee until then.”

Vano felt decidedly off-center, and that didn’t happen often. Had he agreed to something? Been dismissed? Misunderstood the whole conversation? Maybe there really was a garden with green carnations.

Or maybe he’d just agreed to some illicit action, and if that was the case, he really wanted to know what it was. Curiosity killed the cat, but it had another eight lives to spend and he’d never been any good at saving.

“y’all know what they say,” Vano began teasingly as Fex took a new deck of cards and a cribbage board from the sack he’d brought. “If someone truly wants to live, they should live in the moment.” 

Fex caught Vano’s eye, holding it for a beat. “You see why my relationship with your sister is purely chaste,” he said, breaking contact at last to set up the little cribbage board. He placed pegs exactly where they belonged, meticulous and precise. “No man who cultivates green carnations would consider more, and those men certainly wouldn’t interest her.” 

It took a moment for Vano to remember his original concern: Fex being stuck on Nicoletta. 

While Vano set that concern aside, Fex chuckled warmly and added, “I’m glad to know you do share my interests. We can do a little scouting while we’re on our walk today, and see if we can’t find a place that’s sheltered enough that carnations could blossom there.” 

Thoughts of Nicoletta went right out of Vano’s head. That—that did sound dirty. Vano picked up the deck of cards and shuffled them without thinking much about it, then started dealing. His mind was racing with maybes and what-ifs. Vano had never met a new experience he didn’t want to try, and preferably sooner than later. He’d never really thought about an experience of this sort, but… 

He looked beyond Fex to the window that peered into a drab hall, his mind drifting pleasantly down the implications. A woman in a pinafore led a soldier past. Then a doctor in a proper lab coat walked by. He glanced down at the cribbage board, his cards, the pegs. His mind was everywhere and nowhere, and he certainly wasn’t focused on the game. 

Vano looked at Fex with a narrow-eyed mock-glare. “Say, you wouldn’t be tryin’ to distract me, would you?” 

“Trust me,” Fex said. “I’m just as distracted.” His eyes, dark and warm, lingered for a moment on Vano’s pulse point before dipping lower. Vano could feel his skin heat up wherever Fex’s gaze landed, and had to struggle to maintain any sort of cool. “After all,” Fex continued, just shy of salacious, “I’m the one in a suit and tie here.” 

Vano let his eyelids fall, looking up through his curls and eyelashes with his best sultry smile. Give as good as you got when flustered, that was his motto. “Now that you mention it, I do rather have the advantage, don’ I? I wouldn’ want to be seen as less than a gentleman so, please, feel free to lose some apparel.” His heart thundered at this new game and his own daring in participating.

Fex made a small, throaty sound and slipped a finger between his bronze skin and cream-colored shirt, loosening his tie. “My, it certainly is a warm day,” he said, his breath in his voice. “I do think I overdressed. If you wouldn’t find it too impolite, I could certainly do without the jacket.” 

Vano leaned back and gestured expansively. “By all means, make y’self comfortable.” 

Fex stood to take his khaki suit jacket off, hanging it neatly over the back of his seat. It wasn’t his jacket that Vano was looking at, though. It was the way Fex’s black suspenders cut down his chest—a very male chest. Vano had never really paid attention to other men’s bodies before, but now he found himself beyond simply curious. 

Fex was not as broad as Vano through the shoulders and upper ribs, though Vano had the distinct sense that Fex could toss him across the room, despite the lack of iron man muscles to make him think that. 

No, Fex wasn’t built up in that way. He was strong but still lithe, and his hands weren’t dainty soft ladies’ hands, but blunt-nailed workman’s hands. Clean and capable, and Vano wondered what, exactly, they were capable of. 

Fex returned to his seat, holding down his yellow-patterned mulberry tie to keep it from flapping. He caught Vano looking just as he settled, and the corner of his mouth deepened in a smile as if they were sharing a secret.

They were, Vano supposed. And if he was going to be caught looking, he might as well make it worthwhile. Despite his mild embarrassment, he leaned over the table and said confidingly, “It’s just us fellas, you know, and that tie—while it’s the eel’s hips on you—still looks rather warm.”

Fex dropped his dark, pretty eyes and said a little regretfully, “Alas, I should probably leave it. Wouldn’t want to shock the nursing sisters. Maybe just a little looser…” He tugged at the knot, cloth sliding easily until Vano could just make out the next sliver of skin. Before he could object, Fex continued, “The eel’s hips you say? Thank you very much. That’s a new one for me. I’ll remember it.” He pretended to write it down in an invisible notebook and flashed a white grin at Vano. 

It was utterly guileless and just as utterly charming. 

Vano gave a dramatic sigh and laid his cards face down on the little table. “I just can’ do it, Fex. It wouldn’ be fair for me to be here, completely distractin’ you,” he gestured at himself in his hospital garb, though the table hid his bare legs from view, “while beatin’ you at cribbage.” Before Fex could come up with a riposte, he offered a smile. “How about we find that coffee? And maybe go on a walk? I’m not that fragile. Swear.” He swept his fingers over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“If you’re sure…” Fex said cautiously, and waited for Vano to nod before pushing his own untouched cards away. He stood, plucking his coat off the chair and shrugging into it once more. “I’ll go find someone to get us a wheelchair. You slide back under the covers and try to look rested so they don’t think I’ve worn you out with conversation already.”  

Vano laughed and tucked himself out of sight, feeling the crinkle of the wrapped chocolate under his leg. As Fex slipped out the door, Vano swept up the chocolate and quickly folded it into the day-old newspaper one of the nurses regularly brought him. Perhaps no one would care that he had candy, or they might even think it was for his asthma, but he wasn’t taking the chance of it getting stolen. 

He was half in a daydream about being outside again—he’d lost track of how long it’s been since one of the volunteers had taken him out—when Fex reappeared, holding the door open for a pinafored hospital girl pushing a wheelchair. 

She was younger than some of the staff, maybe someone’s unmarried daughter, and Vano had a moment where he stumbled. If Fex were a woman he’d been flirting with, he wouldn’t even consider flashing a broad grin at another dame. But Fex most certainly wasn’t a woman.

Then the moment was gone and the petite brunette was pushing the chair toward him, her hair bobbing around her chin. “Here we are, Mr. Woodward,” she said to Fex with a dimpling smile. Then, with just enough of a tut in her voice to make her sound like she was talking to a child, she said to Vano, “Feeling spry today, Mr. Heron? Your friend Mr. Woodward here says you’d like to go on a little excursion.” 

“Yeah, I—wait.” He grabbed the blankets before she pulled them aside and bared most of his lower body. It hadn’t bothered him so much ten minutes earlier, before he’d started on this new flirtation, but things had changed.

Feeling flushed and more than a little self-conscious, Vano glanced past the volunteer to Fex, who stood just beyond her, before looking away. He opened his mouth, not at all sure what he was going to say but trusting that something would come out. 

Fex saved him from whatever that might have been by casually stepping to the open door. “I’ll just wait in the hall.” And he closed the door behind himself.

Vano had never been particularly modest before, bathing and changing with male relatives and carnies as needed, but now this was different, and it flustered him. He didn’t even try to flirt as the young woman helped him up, fussing over him as she draped a robe over his shoulders and got him settled in the wheelchair. 

“Now,” she said, tucking a too-warm blanket around his legs, “promise me you’ll come straight back if you start to feel peaked.” She opened the door to the hall and gave Fex a saucy smile. “He’s all yours, Mr. Woodward. Don’t wear him out, now. I know how you boys can be.” 

Oh, Vano thought, she truly didn’t know. 

Vano demurely laid his hands in his lap and didn’t try to wheel himself anywhere. He knew they wouldn’t let him—and suspected he was weaker than he thought. As long as he didn’t try, though, that suspicion wasn’t confirmed. 

As Fex came around and took the handles of the chair, Vano was very aware of all the ways the hospital gown was inadequate and how low the robe cut in front, even with it belted at his waist. What he would have given for a pair of trousers and a mirror to attempt some semblance of fashion with his hair. 

**

It actually was a warm day, even if flirting with Vano had made Fex that much hotter under the collar. The large windows at either end of the hospital hallway were wide open to admit what breeze there was, and ceiling fans did their best to encourage it along, but by the time they’d navigated a few hallways to the elevator, Fex was sincerely glad he’d foregone a vest.

“You know,” he said, fanning himself with his hat, “maybe lemonade would be a better choice than coffee. If you still want to see if we can find some.” The elevator shuddered and rattled its way to the ground floor with them, where the doors opened with a ding.

Vano adjusted his blanket for the tenth or eleventh time, shoving it just a little lower, so more air could reach his belly without risking indecent exposure. He was probably too warm, too, Fex thought. Vano tipped his head back to smile up. “Lemonade sounds swell to me, but I’d take some water just as happy.” 

“I’m sure we can find water,” Fex said. This was a hospital, after all. If there wasn’t water and coffee in the building, the end times were upon them. He navigated them through another set of hallways, past more open windows. Vano’s head swiveled towards every glimpse of sunlit green they passed. Fex couldn’t fault him for that, either. “When were you last outside? It’s hot as Hades today—might be a bit of a shock to the system. It was to mine, after the nice cool weather we’ve had recently.” 

“Oh, I don’ know,” Vano said with a shrug. “The doctors and nurses are busy, and there are plenty of soldiers to keep the volunteers on their toes.” He turned his head enough to aim a grin Fex’s way without actually meeting his eyes. “It’s been longer than I’d like, not as long as could be. Before I last saw you, though.”

“Then it’s a good thing I came by,” Fex said. “Clean water, fresh air, and sunshine are a physician’s best friends. Or so they say.” He paused at an intersection of tunnels and consulted the helpful sign painted in neat black lettering on the green wall. CANTEEN shared a left-pointing arrow with X-RAY and LABORATORY.

“Here we go.” He turned them left. The canteen was only a few hundred feet further along, easily identified by the mouth-watering mingled scents of meat in gravy, steaming vegetables, and baking bread that wafted from the propped open door—healthy food and plenty of it being a doctor’s favorite remedy. It was, of course, warmer yet inside, so they didn’t linger. Much to Fex’s relief there was not only lemonade, but iced lemonade. He acquired a pair of tall paper cups of the stuff and handed both to Vano. “You’ll have to carry mine as well as yours until we find a shady spot outside. I’m afraid if I tried to push the chair with that cup in my hand, I’d end up dumping it all down your back.”

Vano chuckled delightedly and took the cups, waggling his eyebrows at Fex in a way that made Fex laugh too. “And then one might suspect y’all had impure intentions,” Vano said. His rich baritone purred with promise, while his neck and what Fex could see of his chest flushed a dull red.

“My intentions?” Fex asked, mocking shock. “Why, my intentions are the purest. Quite unmuddled. I’m very sure of my intentions.” He winked outrageously at Vano, who flushed further. Vano might have answered, but a trio of white-clad nurses turned the corner of the narrow corridor, likely on their own way to the canteen. They made room for Fex and Vano to pass, offering approving smiles at the two of them when Fex tipped his hat. 

When Fex and Vano were just past the nurses, one of the women whispered something to her sisters, eliciting a bell-chorus of titters from her friends. Fex waited until they were well beyond eavesdropping range before he told Vano, “Their intentions, now… Definitely impure. Although ‘fantasies’ seems like a better word than ‘intentions.’”

Vano barked a surprised laugh. “Can you blame ‘em? There you are, in your fine suit and tie with your dapper hat, struttin’ along winkin’ at people.” He half-twisted in his seat to look up at Fex. “Really,” he said, with a twinkle in his dark-lashed eyes, “you shouldn’t be allowed on a hospital floor.” 

“Is that so?” Fex asked. “It’s a good thing we’ve reached the door to the garden, then.” He checked the latch, then turned them both so his back was to the glassed double doors, and backed through onto a small veranda. A series of lounge chairs marched down the wall, several of them occupied by lightly bundled patients. At the far end, a nurse stood organizing medical supplies at a little table. She looked up at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Just taking my friend here to see the summer blooms,” Fex said, lifting his hat to her and nodding down at Vano.

“See that you don’t overtire him, sir,” she said. “It’s quite a warm day.”

“We’ll stick to the shadier paths,” Fex assured her. 

He eased Vano’s wheelchair down a shallow ramp, and then they were fully outdoors, in the glorious midday sunshine. Birds chirped and sang in the trees, a scent-laden breeze ruffled Fex’s hair, and he took a long, deep breath. In the chair in front of him, Vano did so as well, tipping his head back and closing his eyes, basking in the warm light. It was a hot day, certainly, but compared to the stifling heat in the hospital, this was as refreshing as the lemonade Vano still held. 

“It’s a sight easier to breathe out here,” Fex said. “It’s easier to just be out here. I know I promised you shade, but what do you say to a little sunlight first? We could take this path here, to the rose garden.”

“I won’ burn up if you put me in the sun,” Vano assured him. Everything about him visibly relaxed, though he hadn’t seemed tense before. His face glowed golden despite his pallor, and iridescent glints flashed when the sun caught the right angle in his dark curls. He took another long, slow breath through his nose, and then a couple of smaller sniffs, scenting the air the way Nicoletta did, sometimes, even in her human form. Fex wondered what he smelled—was it more than the heady melange of sun warmed soil and flowering plants that Fex was enjoying?

“I know you must be busy as a woodpecker in a carpentry shop,” Vano said, drawing Fex’s attention back, “and I just wanna say it’s swell of you to have come back to see me. I do ‘ppreciate it.” 

“Nonsense and balderdash,” Fex said. “I’m here for myself as much as for you. You could even say I’m being selfish.” 

Vano laughed, waving a dismissive hand. “Well yeah, I can see how visitin’ the resident invalid werewolf is entirely a benefit to you.”

“No baloney,” Fex said. They wound around a small hill and skirted an ebullience of blue and violet hydrangeas that pushed over the edge of the path. “I’ll tell you the truth, Vano, I haven’t done much more than work long days, read alone in my rooms, and sleep these last several weeks. Well, and look after Miss Moppet. She’s my cat,” he added, in case Vano thought he meant a previously unmentioned paramour.

Vano didn’t seem to know what to say to that. He fidgeted with the cups of lemonade, taking a sip of his own before finally coming up with a small, “Then I’m glad to be here.” His voice grew confident again, “Now tell me about this Miss Moppet of yourn. I ain’t never had a cat. Are they as intractable as I hear?”

Fex chuckled. “No, no. Well yes. But no. It depends on what you mean by intractable, I suppose. She can be quite demanding when she wants attention.” He found a semi-secluded seating area for them, within sight of a neatly kept bed of roses, and parked Vano’s chair so that it faced the bench. “Will this do?” he asked. He took a seat directly across, so that mere inches separated their knees from one another’s. “I can take that lemonade from you now.”

Vano handed Fex’s lemonade over with a murmured, “This is lovely.” He and Fex both sipped their drinks. Fex reveled in the cool, sweet-sour beverage, a relief in the heat. He watched Vano’s Adam’s apple bob when Vano swallowed and sighed, evidently feeling the same delight. There was something about the pallor of Vano’s long neck under dark stubble that niggled at Fex’s senses, but before he could put words to the thought, Vano asked, “Does Miss Moppet truly want that much attention? How does she compare, say…” He trailed off, glancing around surreptitiously, and evidently satisfied they were sufficiently alone, finished with a teasing smile, “To a sweetheart?”

“Oh,” Fex said, catching a breath as his heart sped a little. Vano might be a novice with a male suitor, but he certainly had flirting down pat. “Well. She does like to lie in my lap and be petted while I read before bed. But she’s not the most scintillating of conversationalists. I have a cousin who could talk to her, but that’s not my gift, alas. Although I suspect she would mostly talk about mousing and her opinions on squirrels and songbirds.” 

Vano’s smile grew as Fex babbled at him like a ninny. “Hmm, I’m sure that’s the case.” His voice took on a honeyed warmth. “Sounds like you need a better conversationalist to lie in your lap and be petted.” He batted his eyes in mock innocence. “Should I volunteer for the job?”

“Are you volunteering for the job?” Fex’s ears twitched as he, too, made sure they were truly unobserved. He managed to get a handle on his ridiculous yattering. Had it been so long since he took a lover that he’d forgotten the thrill of the chase? He slid his leg forward, so his linen-clad knee just touched the blanket over Vano’s.

Vano went still at the touch. But he didn’t pull away, though his gaze turned briefly absent. When his attention returned to Fex, it returned full force. Vano leaned closer, chin in his hand, and pressed his knee back against Fex’s. “Well, that depends. How are you goin’ to pay me?”

Fex took a page from Vano’s book and feigned shocked innocence. “My heavens, Mister Heron, I can’t think of you as a gigolo. If you were my sweetheart, I suppose I would pay you in kisses.”

Vano stroked his beard-tufted chin, scowling as if deliberating a weighty concern. “That might be acceptable,” he said slowly. “O’ course, I would need to know if these are A+ or subpar kisses to truly consider the position.” The light in his eyes and twitch in his lips betrayed the mirth behind his words.

“Allow me to give you a sample,” Fex said. He closed the last of the distance between them, reaching up to cup Vano’s cheek with one hand. Vano nearly vibrated under the touch; with his golden-hazel eyes locked on Fex’s, he parted his lips in anticipation. 

Fex needed no further invitation. He kissed Vano softly, tenderly… Electrically. His eyes closed of their own accord—the better to savor the exhilarating rush of heat his racing heart sped to every cell of his being.

**

Vano’s blood thundered so loudly in his veins, he was sure that Fex’s pointed ears must hear it. His skin felt oversensitized, making him keenly aware of the calluses on Fex’s palm catching on his scruff, the gentle way Fex’s fingertips rested along his cheekbone, and the mouth moving against his. 

And oh, that mouth. Did all men kiss like this? Fex’s lips were soft yet firm, brushing against Vano’s lightly, teasing the most delicious sensations out of him. It wasn’t the sort of kiss that led to heavy necking; it was the sort of kiss that seduced one until they were putty in the kisser’s hands. 

Vano stopped thinking; he leaned into it, caught as thoroughly as if Fex had cast a net. Surely this was Keshalyi magic. 

Fex pulled away slowly, pausing so close their breath still mingled. Vano opened his eyes. He couldn’t remember closing them. He could see the purple sparks in Fex’s dark irises and knew Fex was smiling slightly, though he felt too drunk to register much more. 

They pulled slightly farther apart—still too close to explain it easily, should someone come around the corner—and Vano wetted his lips with his tongue. “I do believe,” he said, but his thoughts were scattered to the wind. He had to start again. “I do believe I need,” why were words so difficult? He grasped at the ones he wanted and finished, “one more demonstration.” 

The twinkle in Fex’s eyes brightened and he leaned in again, but this kiss was the lightest of touches, lips to lips and gone, before he pulled fully back. Vano tried not to whine. 

“I’ve demonstrated,” Fex said teasingly, with a clearly still functional brain. “Perhaps I should ask what you’ll bring to me, if I take you on as a sweetheart?”

Oh, horsefeathers, he couldn’t be expected to think after that. Vano sat back in the wheelchair, buying himself some time as he tried to clear his head. His mind was practically dandelion fluff, but slowly memory returned. He smiled, not bothering to hide the lazy satisfaction that curled in his belly. “You mean layin’ in your lap and allowing you to pet me ain’t enough?”

Fex’s lids lowered as he pondered the question. “Hmmm.” He pretended to give it serious thought before saying, “I may also need a demonstration. When you’re more recovered, of course.” He gestured vaguely toward Vano, taking in the wheelchair and everything.

Vano crooked his eyebrow, trying not to smile. “I ain’ actually wheelchair-bound, you know.” Then, before Fex could say anything, he grasped the blanket around his waist—no one needed to see his skinny legs—and stood, twitching it around him as he flopped down on the bench. He didn’t try for graceful. The bench was far too short to accommodate even his average length, so he focused on keeping himself covered and draped his legs over the arm, letting his head land firmly on Fex’s thigh. 

Which was maybe not his wisest idea, because Fex’s thigh was noticeably close to another region. One that Vano had never really paid much attention to before, but suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about. He scooted and rolled to be sure he was closer to Fex’s knee and smiled up in a hopefully endearing way. “You may pet, though I warn you, I charge quite the fee in kisses if you pet me for very long.”

Perhaps he wasn’t quite as well as he wanted to believe; the world gave a slow pitch. He kept his focus on Fex, refusing to show that anything was wrong and give up either pets or kisses.

A smile bloomed across Fex’s features as he looked down at Vano. Practiced fingers carded through his hair, loosening his curls. 

“It’s a good thing I’m wealthy with kisses, then,” Fex said indulgently. He picked up Vano’s near hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. Vano’s stomach fluttered; he didn’t know how he felt about that, except that the sensation was rather nice. No wonder dames liked it. 

“I think,” Fex continued, “we have definitively proven that Miss Moppet is not as demanding as a sweetheart.” 

Vano felt his skin warm at the implication; both that he was demanding, and that he might be a sweetheart. He couldn’t say for sure if he felt tickled or embarrassed. Either way he closed his eyes and turned his head to rest his cheek on Fex’s knee with an exaggerated happy sigh, basking as the heat of the day soaked into his bones. He felt, suddenly, as if he hadn’t been warm since the crash. A shiver worked its way down his body, though he tried to ignore it. “I don’ know what you’re talkin’ about. Miss Moppet is clearly far more demandin’ than a sweetheart could ever be.”

Fex sounded amused. “I’ll have to do a side-by-side comparison, I think. It’s the scientific way.” 

Vano chuckled at the thought, enjoying the feeling as Fex kept carding through his hair. The world did a slow turn that Vano tried to ignore. Something inside his abdomen throbbed dully. He focused on the fingers in his hair and the heat on his skin, and for a blessed moment he was able to float, only minimally guilty that he was being a terrible host. 

Then Fex’s hands went still. Vano opened his eyes, half expecting to see a nurse looming over them, but no one was there. 

***

“Vano,” Fex said, “are you hurting? What is it?”

Vano shut his eyes so tightly they were nothing but creases and dark lashes. Then he brought his free arm up over his face like he was warding off a too-bright light despite his closed eyes. “It’s nothin.’ Just a bad moment, is all,” he said. But he didn’t lower his arm, and the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease.

Fex could have kicked himself. He’d lost his head in the rush of the moment, and forgotten that Vano was a convalescent who needed rest much more than romance right now. His injuries from the car wreck that had taken Nicoletta’s arm must have been horrific. On top of that there was Vano’s asthma. And then there was the way Nicoletta had reacted when Fex told her about Vano. 

“Vano,” Fex said softly, as he resumed stroking Vano’s curls, “are you… Is all this still from the accident? Is that why you’re still in the hospital, or…” 

Vano huffed a dry, humorless laugh. “It enough, ain’ it, with the asthma?” His long fingers plucked restlessly at the overlapping panels of his robe. Not an invitation to open the lapels or intention to remove the robe, but an unhappy gesture that spoke more of suppressed emotion. Maybe anger. Maybe fear.

“I know,” Fex started, picking his words carefully. “I know they don’t like us. Don’t like my people. Don’t like yours. I’ve seen the looks on the faces of the ones who know what Nicoletta is. Some of them are okay. But some of them…” Some of them, like Corporals Wyatt and Moore, Sergeant Birnbaum, Mrs. Dunfre, had abhorrence in their eyes. Some, like Robert Droste with his false heartiness to Fex’s face, and cavalier brutishness to Nicoletta, that day they’d first met… 

Vano lifted his arm away to peer worriedly at Fex, and reached up with telegraphed care to touch Fex’s jaw with blunt, brown fingertips. “Hey, those brunos haven’t hurt you, have they?” There was a threat—no, a promise—of retribution under his question. A fierceness behind his troubled gaze.

“No,” Fex reassured him. He took Vano’s hand and pulled it down to lie across the robe’s lapels, covering it with his own palm, curling his fingers around Vano’s. “No, I promise you they haven’t.” Not yet, anyway. “The worst I’ve had was when they had Nicoletta track me down while I was hunting mushrooms in the foothills.” He shook his head at the absurdity. “She gave me a few bruises that day, and a much closer look at a wolf’s teeth than I ever wanted to see, but no one since, no one else.” Before the concern Nicoletta’s name had sparked for Vano could catch fire, Fex pressed on. “But Vano, have they hurt you?”

Baffled perplexity washed over Vano’s expressive face. “No,” he said quickly, and then, a little slower, with a reassuring smile, “Non.” The smile faded, though, and Vano’s gaze drifted downward, towards his own frail body. His fingers under Fex’s traced out an anxious line on his chest. “It the accident. Things keep…” He visibly groped for words, but gave up the effort with a frustrated exhalation, settling for, “Goin’ wrong.”

“It must have been terrible,” Fex said. “The accident, I mean. You’re lucky you didn’t injure your face. Or if you did, that it healed you more handsome than ever.” 

A grin spread at Fex’s compliment. Fex couldn’t quite bend enough to lean down and offer Vano another kiss, so he settled for pulling Vano’s hand up and pressing it to his lips again, which made Vano’s grin broaden further. “But we should get you back up to your bed, where you can get the rest and care you need.”

Vano waggled his eyebrows the way he had earlier in their flirtations. “Care to join me?” 

“I’d be delighted to,” Fex said, in complete honesty. “And how. Although I think that nurse that warned me not to overtire you might take a dim view of it, especially since it’s clear I already overtired you with our little promenade.”

“Help me sit up,” Vano said, half rising even before Fex could offer aid, “and we’ll convince her otherwise. I can look fresh and dazzlin’ for a few minutes, at least.” Between the two of them, they got Vano seated upright on the bench, where he attempted, and mostly succeeded at, giving Fex and their imaginary nurse a gleaming smile.

Fex grinned back—he couldn’t help it—and chuckled, “Your sister’s warning about you was right, you are supernaturally charming.” Not that Nicoletta had said those exact words to him, but she’d certainly implied as much, from the few things she’d let slip about her younger brother.

Vano laughed with his head tipped saucily to the side. One eyebrow rose over his rakish smile. “Now I know you fibbin’, because I guess the word she used was somethin’ like ‘scoundrel.’” He winked, and his second eyebrow joined the first in a titillating lift. “But I don’ mind. You can keep doin’ it.”

“Oh, I shall,” Fex said. “If only to get you to smile like that again.” He noted the ashen fade in Vano’s face, at odds with Vano’s cheeky grin, and gave a rueful head shake. “I think we really do need to get you back up to your room. Loath as I am to cut our first date short.” He stood and checked that the brake was set on the cane-backed wheelchair, and the pillows plumped and ready to cushion Vano’s ride, then offered Vano his arm to assist with the transfer from bench to chair.

Vano’s heavy lean on Fex’s arm was as much from necessity as desire, judging by the tremor in unsteady legs. Together they got Vano seated again, with his blanket demurely tucked around him. Fex let Vano do that waist tucking himself, and chuckled when Vano affected a disappointed pout.

“Do I at least get a prize for goin’ quietly?” Vano asked.

Fex checked their surroundings, swiveling his ears to catch the voices nearby. One pair of women’s voices were getting closer, though they weren’t in their sightline yet. Just to be safe, though, Fex wrapped a little illusion around himself and Vano before he leaned in close and whispered, “Will a kiss and an IOU work?”

The pink tip of Vano’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I s’pose I can accept that,” he said in a throaty half-whisper back. His eyes, which didn’t leave Fex’s mouth as Fex leaned in, fluttered shut as soon as their lips met. 

This kiss was as thoroughly electrifying as their first had been. Fex wanted to catalog and savor everything about it: the velvet welcome of Vano’s lips, the blunted prickle of the stubble above and below them, the oven-like heat in Vano’s soft exhale when Fax pulled away. The surprisingly strong hold Vano took of Fex’s shoulder to draw him back for more.

Maybe Fex really had spent too long without this kind of company. When they were forced to break for air, he sighed happily and rested his head against Vano’s shoulder for a moment. “There’s half,” he murmured. “And I swear by God’s holy grace that my IOU is good.”

A sound almost as much canine whine as human groan vibrated Vano’s throat. Strong tan fingers curled into a fist around the cloth of Fex’s shirt. Vano licked his lips, swallowed, and finally opened his eyes—molten copper and green with wide black pupils. He released Fex’s shirt, but only so he could slide his hand up to the back of Fex’s neck in a possessive hold. “I’m goin’ to hold you to that,” he promised.

A rough, “Ah…” was the only response Fex could manage, before Vano kissed him again, rapidly shredding Fex’s self-control. He tried to remind himself that Vano was sick and injured and already tired out, even if that kiss was full of energy.

Footsteps and voices neared enough that Vano heard them too. He reluctantly let Fex go, and Fex found himself abruptly stumbling a pace back until the backs of his knees collided with the bench, and he had to sit or fall. He braced his hands on either side of himself and looked up at Vano. “I think maybe I won’t tell your sister everything about my visit today.” 

A cocky smirk flashed across Vano’s face, but was just as quickly replaced with a grimace and flinch when he tried to adjust his seated posture. He straightened back up with another smile, but this one was a little strained.

Fex laid a palm over Vano’s nearest hand; Vano met his eyes, and a little of the tension on his face slacked away. He eased himself gingerly back into the embrace of his pillows and blanket with a sigh. “That may be a good idea.” He looked thoughtfully unsure for a moment, then said, “I hope there’ll be circumstances in your next visit that she don’ need to know, either.” 

“I think we can make that happen,” Fex said with a grin. He drew his hand back just as footsteps clicked around the corner and a white-capped nurse came towards them. Her apron billowed in the slight breeze like a schooner catching the wind.

“There you are!” she exclaimed. Fex felt his cheeks go at least as red as Vano’s did. “I’m sure you’ve had a lovely visit,” she told Fex, “but now Mr. Heron needs his rest if he’s to recover properly.”

“Oh. Well. Of course,” Fex told her, unsure exactly which of the nursing sisters she was. He stood and started to doff his hat, then realized it was on the bench where he’d been sitting, not on his head. He ducked his chin in an apologetic nod, instead.

“Shall we get you back to your bed, Mr. Heron?” she asked Vano, like he had any choice in the matter. 

“I’d be happy to—” Fex started, but she arched an eyebrow at him and he subsided.

Vano lifted his eyebrows and widened his eyes at Fex, with an unspoken, “Jeepers, she told us!” Before the nurse could clock his silent cheek, he broke into a broad, slightly smug smile, flashing his dazzling white teeth at her and raising his voice a tone or two so it carried to Fex. “I s’pose I just hold onto your cards until you return. Clearly I’m too tired for you to accompany me back to get them. But don’t worry, I keep them safe for you.”

“Keeping a man’s cards and cribbage board hostage…” Fex clucked his tongue and shook his head in mock dismay. “I suppose there’s nothing for it, I’ll just have to come see you again if I want them back.” He had no idea when his next day at liberty would be, but they tended to give them at least half days on Sundays, ostensibly so they could attend church in the morning. And often they got the whole day, so… “Sunday, if not sooner.” 

If there was a little pep in his step, Fex didn’t think the clerk who summoned his driver noticed. The driver did comment on his cheery mood, but that was fine. “Got to spend a little time in the garden with a friend,” Fex said, as he slid onto the leather bench seat.

“It’s a good day for that,” the driver agreed. “So, back to base?”

“No rest for the wicked,” Fex said, and got a chuckle from the driver.

“No sir, not for us. Work never ends, does it?”

“No it never does,” Fex said. “But some days it’s not bad work.”