Cut and Run 1 - Cut and Run

every now and then as he smeared some on his neck and chest and finally rubbed his hands together and patted down his scruffy face.
    Zane just watched, stirring lemon into his tea, shaking his head. “That's a waste of good beer. You should have ordered some shit like Bud Light."
    "Do I look like I drink Bud Light?” Ty sneered before downing what was left of the beer. He raised his hand and called over the waitress again.
    "You think the girls are going to be able to tell the difference?"
    "You underestimate their prowess,” Ty laughed as he leaned back and stretched his hands over his head. The waitress sidled over and Ty smiled at her. “Bring my irritating friend here a Bud Light, would you, sweetheart?"
    She repressed a snort and gave Zane a nod before turning away again. “No,” Zane said sharply, voice quite firm. “That's not necessary."
    She turned around and raised her eyebrows in question. Ty pursed his lips and then smiled, shaking his head and gesturing for her to bring it anyway.
    "Your irritating friend has no interest in a beer, Grady,” Zane ground out.
    "It's not to drink,” Ty responded with an easy smile.
    Zane relaxed slightly, though he was still frowning. “Then what do you plan to do with it?” he asked suspiciously. Ty merely waved a hand at himself in answer. Zane rolled his eyes before he could stop himself and really wished Ty had waited until after dinner to “freshen up.” It would be bad enough walking around with him without smelling it all through dinner, too.
    The waitress brought the ordered beer and smiled at Ty flirtatiously as she passed by. Zane watched her thoughtfully and wondered if Ty really was charming or if he was just good-looking enough to pull it off. Either way, it irritated Zane already.
    Ty slid the bottle across the table and waved a hand. “You can wait ‘til after we eat, if you like,” he offered charitably.
    Eyes narrowing, Zane looked at Ty, then the bottle, then back at Ty. “Oh, hell no. One of us smelling like a drunk is plenty ."
    Ty merely shrugged. The man wasn't going with him without playing the part. Whether he did it voluntarily was not Ty's concern. It might even be fun to douse him down, Ty pondered with a smile.
    "So,” he leered as he leaned his elbows on the table again. “Tell me about your hookers. You don't seem the type,” he said with a pointed look at the wedding band on Zane's finger.
    Zane willfully ignored the beer bottle. “And what is my type?” he asked in a clipped voice, his left hand curling into a loose fist before he pulled it off the table and settled it out of sight, hiding the ring. He wondered how many new insults Ty could come up with. It really was a game to him, apparently, and it made it more difficult for Zane to maintain his stony reserve.
    Ty snorted in response. “Yeah, okay,” he responded in amusement. “I guess you would need to pay someone to tolerate you."
    Letting the insult pass, for more reasons than the truth of it, Zane prodded back instead. “I'm sure you have a very well-formed and detailed profile ready to throw out there, proving how lacking I am."
    Ty's eyebrow rose and he leaned forward. “Have you read my file?” he inquired curiously.
    "In what time, since we've been together practically the entire past thirty-six hours?” Zane asked sarcastically. “That's not to say I didn't think about having it pulled."
    Ty narrowed his eyes, then let it go as a coincidence. “Profile of you, huh?” he drawled with a smirk instead.
    "Despite your insistence on being an utter asshole, you are undeniably educated and highly trained,” Zane said, drawing on the minute clues and data he'd been gathering about Ty to make a strong guess. Number-crunching, as it were. “So, I'm betting you've assessed for threat, judged for education, gauged strengths and weaknesses ... yes. A profile."
    "Your logic is irrefutable,” Ty complimented, still grinning. “I do have one,” he answered with a matter-of-fact nod. “I'm still waiting for you to change it."
    Zane's interest in the line of conversation dissipated, as did any life or spark in his dark eyes as his expression went hard again. People were always expecting him to change. “Very charitable of you,” he said curtly.
    Ty shrugged. “You want me continuing to think you're a candy-ass content to ride a desk, that's fine with me. Don't say I didn't give you a chance, though,” he warned as he leaned back in his seat again and