Encrypted Connection

Blaise: Nine

Blaise smelled like fish, and he had that gummy shit from the gills in every crevice. He'd taken a double shift, covering for one of the guys at the docks because his kid was sick, so he was coming home later than he'd wanted.

He could see straight into the bedroom when he walked in the door, and when he saw that Joey's bed was empty, he sighed, pursing his lips for a moment. Blaise tossed his keys on the table near the door and toed off his shoes, putting them by the door.
"You better be taking a piss then getting right back to bed," he bellowed, "because if you're not, I'm gonna carry you there myself and it won't be fun."

He'd only take a few steps when he realized it wasn't just Joey in the house. He smelled her perfume, faintly, in the air, and cussed low under his breath.

Sure enough, when Blaise walked into the room Sil had set up for Joey, Julie was standing by Joey's chair, and the look on her face wasn't anything good. Sam used to say that he'd never met anyone that could change the temperature in a room like Julie could with just a look. Blaise had seen it a few times, never aimed at him, but now it felt different.

"Everything okay?" he asked, passing Julie by and walking up to where Joey was sitting, looking down at his bandages, then feeling his head, "Don't you have one of those laptops that you can do your work on from bed?"

Joey just stared at him, shook his head, then darted his eyes back to Julie.

Suddenly, the situation made sense.

"Look," he started, taking a step toward her, but she put her hands up and he stopped.

She looked hard between Joey and Blaise, a few times, finally staring Blaise in the eyes, "I can't do this again."
Blaise darted his eyes back to Joey, "Can we talk somewhere private? Joey has work he needs to do, I'm sure."
Julie just laughed dryly, "What? You don't want him to know? You're screwing him and you haven't told him how you got the last team member you fucked, /my/ husband, killed?"

"Not here," he said, gritting his teeth, meeting her gaze.

"You're certainly not fucking me," she bit back, "so I don't see how you think you can tell me what to do."

"Julie," Blaise said, stepping forward, grabbing her gently by the elbow, but she pulled back.

"NO," she yelled, slapping his hand away, "Don't touch me. Don't you dare touch me."

Blaise had had enough of being polite, of being kind, and he wasn't going to have this conversation in front of Joey. As carefully as he could, he pressed his hand to Julie's shoulder and led her to turn around, even though she resisted, and forced her out of the room. She cussed him, but he didn't listen. He knew her hurt. His was different, but at the core the same, and he'd never let her give up. He wasn't about to start now.

Blaise shut the door behind them, corralled her further away from the room and into the kitchen. Once he turned, she lit into him, beating at his chest, slapping him in the face, and Blaise did very little top stop her. He was mostly concerned with her injuring herself, so when it finally seemed like she'd gotten it all out, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly into his chest.

After a long moment, she pushed him away, wiping her eyes and keeping her gaze downcast.

"Just...stay away for a while, please," she said, sniffling as she gathered her things back into her bag, then slinging it over her shoulder, "I'll tell the boys you're out of town. You're not their father."

"When...," he began to ask, but she cut him off.
"I'll call you," she said, and then she was out the door.

Blaise didn't know how long he'd sat at the kitchen table, but it seemed like minutes and hours all at once. Finally, he couldn't sit any longer. Going to the fridge, he pulled out a beer, placed the bottle cap against the counter, and popped it off. Blaise left the cap where it landed and chugged the beer down, slid it on the counter and opened another one the same. This time, he closed the fridge and walked back to where Joey was.

He stopped in front of the door. What would he say?

He listened, hearing Joey talking, then Sil, and he heard gunfire. A slow smile turned up his lips, and he decided that he didn't want to interrupt. Maybe later. Then again, maybe he'd never have to explain. Blaise knew that Silvo wouldn't say anything, not without Blaise's permission, so it was safe.

Instead of going in, he walked back to the fridge, grabbed the rest of the six pack, and walked out on the patio. Pulling out a chair, he sat down, staring up at the stars.

He and Sam spent a lot of nights in quiet places, some deserted, some dangerous, some before they realised how they felt about each other, but most of them were after. On nights like tonight, Sam would lay against Blaise, his strong body against his chest, Blaise's arms wrapped around him, and they didn't have to worry about what anyone else saw or what anyone else thought.

Blaise snorted a laugh, shaking his head at the thought of he and Joey in that romantic moment, and he knew that wasn't his style. He was curious, though, what his style was.

And that's what Julie saw.

Part of his heart would always belong to Sam.

Blaise just stared at the sky and drank. That was all he could manage tonight.