Cut and Run 3 - Fish and Chips

six years since his wife had died, and though he still missed her, it didn’t hurt like it used to.
    Zane had closed the box, leaving both rings inside.
    Then he’d looked at the small ribbon-wrapped box next to it and huffed slightly. He’d bought the compass rose pendant for Ty on a whim, and he still wanted to give it to him. He just wasn’t sure… why . Zane’s chest got tight when he thought about Ty’s declaration of love, and compared to that? The pendant seemed pedestrian. Plus they’d missed Christmas while stuck in that damn holding cell, and now just handing the necklace to Ty felt silly.
    Zane had left it behind as well when he grabbed his suit jacket and walked out of the apartment.
    So a little over three hours later he was here, navigating through traffic into a small parking lot. Zane squeezed the truck into a space meant for a smaller vehicle, wishing that he could have ridden the Valkyrie despite the cold but dry weather that would have nearly frozen him on the ride through town. Not only was the motorcycle more maneuverable, but it was much easier to park between cars that hogged a space and a third of stingy parking at full restaurants in Baltimore.
    He hadn’t ridden it because it was hard to keep a suit and tie tidy while doing so.
    The popular privately owned steakhouse that was located in two old renovated row houses near Fell’s Point was always jammed; New Year’s Eve made it even worse. He was glad he’d thought to call and get reservations as soon as they’d gotten home.
    He got in the door fifteen minutes late—not the best of ideas for a dinner reservation on a regular night, much less a holiday, but he was sure Ty would have been on time. It was one of Ty’s favorite restaurants. After all the fish on the cruise ship, Zane figured a high-grade piece of beef would endear him to his carnivorous partner.
    In a couple minutes one of the hostesses led him toward the back of the narrow restaurant; along the side wall ran a whole line of booths for two to four, and as he expected, Ty was facing the restaurant proper. Zane had given up the fight over who would sit with their back to a full room some time ago. Ty always proffered the argument that more people wanted to kill him, and he was right.
    Ty sat diligently tearing a piece of paper into thin shreds, his knee bouncing under the table as he tried to keep himself occupied while he waited. He glanced up when he saw the hostess leading Zane toward him, and he straightened slightly, gathering the pieces of paper and crumpling them into a ball in his fist.
    “Hey,” Zane greeted, handing the hostess his heavy, waist-length wool coat, unbuttoning his suit jacket, and sliding into the booth across from him.
    Sitting in the booth straight and tall, well-fitted suit actually pressed and his stylishly narrow tie straight, the bleached-blond hair shaved almost completely off in what was practically a scalp trim, Ty looked more like a Jarhead than Zane had ever seen him. Damn the man, he even made a shaved head look good. And he looked much more like himself. Zane was pretty sure Ty had gone somewhere and rolled around in the mud for several hours once they had gotten home from the cruise ship. That would have made him feel better.
    Now Ty seemed nervous, which wasn’t like him. While apart the past few days, back to their normal routine of sometimes together, sometimes apart — as wrong as it felt—Zane had worried Ty’s confession of love and his conspicuous lack of response would make things awkward between them the first time they got back together. So Zane drew a settling breath as he sat on the bench and offered Ty a smile.
    “I’m sorry I’m late,” Zane started.
    Ty nodded and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You all right?” he asked with a frown.
    “Yeah,” Zane said, trying not to wince. “I didn’t think I’d be this late or I would have called.”
    “It’s okay,” Ty told him easily as his eyes traveled carefully over Zane, as if checking him for injuries or any undue wear and tear. Ty didn’t trust Zane’s motorcycle any further than he could throw it, and he knew Zane usually rode it. With that look, Zane felt a lot warmer, inside and out, than from just walking into a heated building from the cold weather outside. He tried to catch Ty’s eyes. It was a little weird, this new dynamic to their partnership. Maybe he should call it an actual relationship now. Yeah. Weird. But Zane