Cut and Run 1 - Cut and Run

glanced to his right as someone moved too quickly in his peripheral vision. He watched them suspiciously for a moment in silence, the sudden tenseness filtering through his entire body.
    "There's nothing I can do to change your opinion,” Zane said sourly, not even noticing the change in Ty's demeanor. “Besides, it's not too far off.” His tone had turned decidedly bitter, and Zane took a long drink of his iced tea to get the annoyance back under control.
    "Ah, I hear a past bubbling forth,” Ty responded with a point at Zane as he pulled his attention away from their fellow diners. “There's another thing I don't wanna talk about."
    "I've got no desire to hear violins wailing, anyway,” Zane snapped.
    Ty laughed joyously and nodded. “That's better,” he said approvingly.
    Zane's nose wrinkled as he reined in his temper yet again. Something about Ty brought out the parts of him he tried to hide from the light of day. Surely, this was headed for disaster. “There were four,” he muttered before thinking better of it.
    "Four what?” Ty asked in apparent confusion.
    Zane cleared his throat in annoyance and glanced around them. “Hookers,” he said through gritted teeth.
    "All at once?” Ty asked with a mocking sort of wide-eyed innocence.
    "Not all four, no,” Zane said under his breath.
    "Shame,” Ty drawled with a smirk. “Why?"
    Zane sighed inwardly. “One of them was busy with a john in the other bed,” he said as he lifted his glass to call for a refill. That had been one hell of a night—what he remembered of it.
    "That's fascinatingly kinky,” Ty drawled flatly. “But I meant why hookers,” he corrected with an impish grin. “Paying for it usually means you're doing it to get out frustrations, not enjoy it."
    "Or being too drunk off your ass to know otherwise,” Zane pointed out, taking another sip of tea.
    Ty raised his eyebrows and inclined his head in interest. “Are you a drunk?” he asked directly.
    Zane's lips twisted in wry amusement, and he took a drink of tea rather than answering.
    "Well, that should make any firefights we get into interesting,” Ty drawled sarcastically. “Sorry, boss, I aimed for the middle one!” he cried softly as he squinted and raised his hand and waved it in front of him, mimicking a man who was seeing double as he tried to aim.
    Zane's eyes were flat and emotionless. “I don't drink anymore,” he said after a long pause.
    "Meaning?” Ty prodded slowly. “What, you're a recovering alcoholic ?” he asked with sarcasm lacing the words.
    Trying very hard to push down a sudden desire to commit homicide, Zane's eyes narrowed and began to glitter with anger. He should have known Ty would disrespect even this. “Alcoholics don't recover,” he said sharply as he pushed out of his chair. “I'll be back,” he muttered, heading to the front door.
    "I know they don't,” Ty called after him without getting up. “They must not have a sarcasm translator in Cyber,” he muttered to himself with a roll of his eyes.
    Zane heard him but was too angry to turn around. He had to calm down or he'd lose his grip on his well-practiced control. He pushed out the doors and onto the sidewalk, walked a few yards away, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and lit up, watching the foot traffic go by as he cooled off.
    Left behind in the restaurant with several patrons glancing at him curiously, Ty simply shrugged and reached for a breadstick to gnaw on. The alcoholism thing didn't mesh with the mental profile he'd created of his new partner. He'd have to reconsider after his task tonight.
    Taking his time with the cigarette, Zane jammed the butt out when he was done and tossed it in a trash can outside the restaurant before heading back in. The salads were on the table, and he sat down and started eating without saying a word.
    "Bit of a temper, huh?” Ty greeted as he chewed. “That's a good idea,” commented the man who was notorious for losing his temper in explosive ways. “To walk away like that."
    Zane grunted in answer as he ate a few bites of salad, deciding if he wanted to answer. “Had to learn,” he finally said as he nabbed a breadstick.
    "Were you a cop?” Ty asked him in return, his mind making leaps and bounds of logic as he continued to chew.
    "Are we playing twenty questions now?” Zane asked. “No. I was never a cop."
    "I ask ‘cause big city cops are usually plagued by drinking and anger problems,” Ty informed him. “And I assume they