Thick as Thieves

By Dixxy Mouri

Chapter Twelve: The Rain

Several Months Later

“Happy Birthday, Karsh!”

Karsh opened his eyes as Norris walked from the oven to the table of their tiny one-room apartment, a smile on his face and a birthday cake in his hands. As the blonde sat down across from his boyfriend, he pushed the cake forward. “You're seventeen – how's that feel?”

“Meh,” he said. “Same as sixteen.” He grabbed the knife and cut into the cake. He closed his eyes and inhaled. The cake was a rich chocolate with a hint of raspberry. He looked at Norris, raising a teasing eyebrow. “Did you make this? It smells great. I didn't think you knew how to make this kind of stuff.”

“I got some help from my boss' wife – she's a bit more aware of us than her husband and thinks we're an 'adorable couple' and offered to help me out when I mentioned your birthday was coming up,” said Norris. He frowned. “Are you insulting my cooking, Karsh? Because as I recall you ENJOYED that roasted chicken last night-”

“What? No!” Karsh insisted. “You usually don't bake – it's why I asked.”

Norris calmed down as Karsh passed him a slice. “It was nice of her to help.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Especially with the way things have been going lately. We're not getting as many customers as we used to,” he said. Norris worked in a repair shop, where he was happily learning to repair various items of all shapes and sizes. Though he and his co-workers liked to pretend it was because nothing was breaking, there was an unspoken understanding that it was because fewer and fewer people could afford to get appliances fixed.

Which is why Norris had the time to help bake a birthday cake.

Karsh felt sorry for his boyfriend, wondering how long it would be before Norris was out of a job. At least the local blacksmith offered steady work. It wasn't great money, but it was enough, and it wasn't as much of a luxury thing as Norris' work – sure, some things had to be repaired, like clocks and watches, but other gadgets they handled were luxury items, and those extra employees would be disappearing as the orders for those kinds of items started to disappear.

Still, it meant he got to crawl into THEIR bed with Norris every night, cuddle up close, and go to sleep in THEIR apartment. Although they kept themselves in a low profile (their last public display of affection had ended catastrophically), they finally got a chance to just be a couple and do normal couple things.

Although loosing the brothers had been difficult, they were able to pull themselves together. Norris found his job as a repairman and Karsh was easily able to get a job working in a local forge. Shortly after they were able to buy the apartment and, even though it wasn't much – just a kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom, really – it was theirs, and it was honest.

Karsh reached across the table and took Norris' hand. “So after this, want some dessert?” he raised an eyebrow seductively. Maybe now that it was his birthday. . . just maybe now he could coax Norris into their bed for more than just cuddling. After all it had been several months that they'd really been able to be comfortable with their relationship. . .

Norris batted his hand away. “I told you – I'm not ready yet.”

Karsh slumped in his chair. “Norris. . .”

Norris calmly chewed on a piece of cake. “I'll let you know.”

Karsh sighed, sticking his tongue out. “Really? After all this time?”

Norris frowned. “Karsh, I love you. You know that. And I want the first time we make love to be special. And I just don't think it'll be special if I don't. . .” he looked away, and Karsh leaned across the table to grab his hand. Norris looked at Karsh, who was smiling at him.

“It's all right. I know – you're still afraid of him,” he said softly. “Tonight, let's just eat some birthday cake, okay?” Norris nodded as Karsh kissed his hand. “If I have to wait a thousand years I will.” He frowned. “Just, ah, you know. . . don't take that too literally, okay?”

Norris slapped his hand. “Karsh. . . eat your cake.”

“I haven't seen a pocket watch this nice in a while!”

The proud owner of the watch smiled brightly. “It was grandfather's! I suppose you could say it's a family heirloom, it's just. . . I don't know what I did to it.” He sighed, reaching around to his wallet for money. “It's a shame it's ceased to work. Think you can fix it young man?”

Norris unscrewed the back of the pocket watch. He inspected it, hummed a little, and grinned. “Oh, I see it now – it just needs to have a few of the internal cogs and springs replaced, that's all – this'll be an easy repair.” He looked up at the customer. “The only thing that's happened to this watch is time itself – you did say it belonged to your grandfather.”

“That's it?”
“That's it. I wouldn't charge more than two hundred gold for this job.”

“Two hundred? That's so cheap!”

Norris shrugged, walking to the supply cabinet behind the counter. “I can have this done in about ten minutes easy,” he said. He squatted, looking for the right parts. “Let's see. . . we're low on springs but I should have enough to get the watch working again – I'll need to get Bart to buy more soon.”

“But you do have enough for the watch?”
“I don't have much to spare, but yes, yes I do.”

Norris set the watch on the counter and began to remove and replace parts. The owner watched intently. “You're acting like this is nothing! You sure you know what you're doing?” Norris nodded, biting his bottom lip as he popped a cog out of place and replaced it with a new one.

He twirled the old part between his fingers. “You've got some rusting on this – try to keep the watch away from moisture in the future. Don't get me wrong though – it took a while for it to get THIS rusty but it'll last a little longer if keep an eye on the metal,” said Norris.

“Do you specialize in clockwork?”
Norris shook his head. “No, not really. I like to do a little bit of everything – I've handled firearms, clocks, pocket watches, simple motors, I worked on a printing press last week and someone brought in a big loom the week before that – that was fun. I actually wouldn't mind someone bringing in something electronic – it's so new that we haven't seen it much around here and I really, REALLY want to play with some.”

“. . . where did you learn to fix all that?”

“He just goes ahead and does it.”

Norris turned his head to see Bartholomew Jenkins, the owner of the repair shop, standing behind him. He placed a hand on his shoulder and beamed. “This kid a was a lucky find. He's just so dang GOOD at fixing stuff and figuring out what the problem is – he hasn't turned down a project yet! I'll be very upset if he leaves my services any time soon.” He grinned. “I'd especially like it if he took me up on my offer to take my daughter out for a night on the town.”

“Bart. . .”

“Ah, trying to keep the business in the family?”

Norris kept a sigh and a rolling of his eyes to himself – he wasn't very interested in Bart's daughter. She wasn't ugly or anything – she did have these nice, big green eyes – but he already had Karsh. Still, he wasn't quite sure how to break it to his employer that he was involved with a man just yet.

As the owner and the pocket watch owner continued to talk, Norris spotted a man by the door watching them closely. He was about in his forties or so and looked a bit weathered around the edges. Not exactly one of the rich people who usually frequented the shop – must've been a mercenary or someone who desperately needed something done.

The man spotted Norris watching him. Their eyes locked and he noticed the man sneer. Norris swallowed – maybe this was someone he had swindled while still working for Red Beard. He bit the inside of his bottom lip as the man left the repair shop, still shooting him dirty glances even as he was shutting the door behind him.

“You okay, Norris?” Bart patted his shoulder, jarring Norris' attention.

“Uh, sir?” That wasn't the best answer he'd given his employer.

Bart laughed. “Just finish the job, okay?” He patted Norris on the shoulder and walked off while his customer continued to praise his wide range of repairshop expertise. Norris nodded and gave him distant responses – their patron didn't seem to notice because he kept rambling anyways.

He couldn't get his mind off that man. . .

“Karsh?”

Karsh opened one eye and grunted. It was the middle of the night. What did Norris want? He had to get up early to go to work, too, didn't he? He looked over at his boyfriend, who was clinging to him a bit more than usual. His head was nuzzled against his shoulder and he seemed a little worried.

“Are you okay?”

“Someone was staring at me at work today.”

Karsh shrugged. “I hate to break it to you, but you're kinda hot.”

Norris looked up at Karsh with furrowed eyebrows. “Not THAT kind of look!”

“Did you break someone's egg timer or something?”

The blond shook his head. “I didn't recognize him. But he did look kinda angry.”

Karsh sat up. “You don't think it was one of the guys we ripped off?”
“I thought that, too, but I have no way of knowing, really,” said Norris. He was now sitting up, and he was starting to get a bit of a panicked look in his eyes. “I mean, Red Beard made us steal a lot – I didn't keep track of everyone!” He swallowed. “I never wanted to be a thief. I thought that was over and now-”

“Calm down, okay?” Karsh kissed the worried blond. “Did he say anything?”

“No.”

“I wouldn't worry about it for now, okay? Maybe it wasn't you he was looking at, maybe he felt you guys charged too much and wanted to find another repair shop, maybe he was upset because the tailor screwed up the stitching on his pants, or maybe he was just an asshole.” He hugged Norris. “Let's just get some sleep, okay?”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I think so. I don't know for sure, but I know worrying about it won't do you any good. Okay?” He flopped down on the bed. “Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to have a lot of horseshoes to pound at in the morning and I need my rest for that. But if that guy comes back, point him out to me and I'll rough him up for you, okay?”
“I don't need you to beat someone up for me.”

“Who said anything about you needing it?”

Norris sighed, laying down next to Karsh. “In case you forgot, I'm a boy, too.”

“You have a distinct lack of boobs, yes.”

“Then could you remember that every time you want to treat me like a girl?”

Karsh mulled this over. “You think I treat you like a woman?”

Norris rolled over. “I feel like you're trying to force a traditional woman's role onto me – I'm not a damsel in distress, Karsh. The guy just freaked me out a little, that's all. I'm not about to put on a dress and prance around the house dusting and cooking for you,” he said. “I wanna go drinking in the bars when I'm old enough to get in just like you. I like watching games. The only difference between me and most men is that I'm in a committed relationship with another man.”

Karsh was snickering. “You in a dress?”

“Have you even been listening to me?”

Karsh burst out laughing. “I'm sorry, I have this picture of you in curls and big eye lashes and this frilly pink and red dress and you're singing with a bunch of blue birds. . . you're right, you're right, that's not you – I don't think you could pull off a dress – or at least not the one I'm envisioning right now.” He took a deep breath, chuckled again, and sighed. “I get your drift. You're a guy, I'm a guy, beer, games, no dresses, gotcha.”

“Good.”

“HOWEVER,” Karsh said, sitting upright and raising a finger. “I don't want you to suffer through anything alone. Fine, go be a manly man, whatever, but don't go doing that without me! The reason I'd want to kick this guy's ass is because let's face it, I'm a bit stronger and bigger than you – I'd probably have a better chance at taking him out. And yes I do want to protect you – you're my entire world right now. I've lost my home, my parents, the brothers. . . I don't want to loose you, too.”

Norris smiled. “That's romantic.”

“Glad you're catching my drift.”

“And by the way Karsh?”

“Yes?”

“You wouldn't look so great in a frilly pink dress, either.”

“Yeah, well at least I've got better legs.”

Karsh felt Norris kick him under the covers.

The next evening, Karsh looked outside of the slowly cooling blacksmith's shopped and frowned to see the torrential downpour coming over the town. The walk home that evening would not be enjoyable. He sighed – he should have listened to Norris and grabbed a raincoat when he left their apartment that morning.

He hated it when Norris was right because then he'd have an “I told you so” look.

He loved it when Norris was right because it was so dang hot when he had it.

Karsh wished the master smith a good evening as he set out into the rain. Sure enough, Karsh didn't have to go too far before it looked like he'd just taken a swim in his clothing. He sighed – Norris was going to be pissed when he tracked all that mud into the apartment.

Then Karsh would ask for a hug and Norris would shriek at the idea of being wet, cold, and muddy, and then Karsh would chase him around the kitchen table until he inevitable caught him, tackle him to the floor and kiss him for at least an hour or two. Then they'd get washed up (Norris would give him the stink eye for making him take an unnecessary bath), get into some warm clothing, and cuddle up in their bed while listening to the sound of the rain outside.

Or maybe the rain would finally get him in the mood. . .

The apartment wasn't very far from the blacksmith, so Karsh was outside the building in no time. He looked up to their window – oddly enough, the lights were out. Maybe Norris went to bed early or something? Kinda weird, but, oh well. Karsh let himself into the main building and closed the door behind him.

Maybe Bart made him stay late at the shop tonight, Karsh thought as he ascended the stairs. Bart didn't usually make him do that, but if they had a tough job that needed to get done quickly, well, Karsh could see where that might happen once in a while. He yawned as he reached the third floor and started down the hallway to his apartment.

There was no light under the door.

Karsh unlocked the door and stepped inside to see the darkness. “Norris?”

Nothing.

Karsh lit the candle by the door – didn't look like Norris was home at all.

“C'mon, Norris – did I piss you off? I'm sorry if I did but you're gonna have to tell me what I did 'cause I have no idea!” There was still no response. Karsh felt the hairs on his arms stand on end. “Norris?” He picked up the candle. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Can you hear me?”

Karsh took a few more steps before noticing the envelope on the table. He put the candle down and pulled up one of the chairs – the envelope had his name on it in Norris' handwriting. Karsh grinned. “Oh, really Norris, a love letter? Trying to play games with me, are you?”

He opened the letter and two pieces of paper fell out. He opened the first one and began to read:

Dear Karsh,

I love you.

I wanted to make that clear before you read this letter. There is nothing I want more than to be with you for the rest of my life and know that until the day one of us dies that I would be able to wake up with you every morning and be with you every night before I went to sleep. I know it sounds corny, but it's how I feel.

But it's because of how much I love you that I'm not here right now.

Karsh felt his heart sink. “What the hell!?”

His eyes glanced at the other piece of paper. He dropped the letter and grabbed the other one, unfolding it and looking it over. Shock set in almost immediately, because it took Karsh a full minute before he realized exactly what it was he was looking at. “By the Green Dragon. . . why?”
Wanted.
Dead or Alive.

High Treason against the Republic of Porre.

Ten thousand gil.

Karsh put his face in his hands. “Norris. . .”

I changed my mind about the “happy” situation. This creates way more drama!

The final number of thieves keeps fluctuating, partly due to input from Crystal Cat Chan who wants to talk about this story and not much else over Windows Live Messenger ;). But you guys should see a one of the “new” thieves (since the original lineup of six) show up in a little bit.

The next chapter is around 90 done already.

-Dixxy