Cut and Run 3 - Fish and Chips

was forgetting. He bent over to kiss Zane squarely. When he stood back up, he said, “Saints win it 17-9. Come on.” And he turned and started toward the exit.
    It took Zane ten keystrokes to shut down the terminal, and he was on Ty’s heels out the door.
    Ty led the way to a lounge some ways from the promenade. It wasn’t as busy as many of the bigger restaurants. Zane glanced around at the low lighting, leather couches, and tiny tables, and he wondered what Ty was thinking.
    “Are we having a snack?” Zane asked as Ty walked to a grouping of overstuffed armchairs in an out-of-the-way corner.
    “I am keeping away from places I know Armen might be right now,” Ty answered as he raised his hand to get the attention of a waiter. “And….” He hesitated and looked at Zane worriedly. “I told you I’d go over some tricks with the drinking on duty. I figure now’s as good a time as any. Because I sure as hell need a drink.”
    Zane raised a brow, then shrugged, and sat down. “Sounds good to me.”
    “What can I get for you, gentlemen?” a waiter asked as he appeared at their chairs.
    Ty held up two fingers. “Two glasses, bucket of ice, bottle of water, and a Scotch, please,” he rattled off quickly before Zane could even open his mouth. The waiter nodded and moved away.
    Ty appeared unsettled, so Zane decided to sit close to him. He settled in the chair next to Ty, crossed his legs easily, and leaned toward his lover. “We’re not in view of the door,” he pointed out. “You can ease up a little.”
    Ty glanced at the entryway, then met Zane’s eyes. He appeared somber and worried, the odd look in his eyes one that was singularly arresting. Zane held his gaze for a long moment before reaching out to touch Ty’s forearm and rub it gently as he waited for Ty to calm. His partner was usually pretty laid back—despite his innate twitchiness—but when Ty got riled up, it could be a difficult proposition to gear him down. Zane was all too aware of how he’d been contributing to Ty’s most recent stress.
    Ty took a deep breath and leaned closer to him. “You still want to do this?”
    Zane frowned a little. “Why wouldn’t I?”
    Ty smiled slightly. “Okay. We both know you have to drink sometimes to sell a cover. And I think we’re in agreement that you shouldn’t. At all. A friend of mine taught me some tricks years ago for those situations. I… didn’t really handle them well at first.”
    Zane thought that sounded a bit ominous. “Okay,” he replied, dragging the word out a bit.
    Ty continued to look at him guardedly.
    “What?” Zane asked, a bit exasperated. “I’m not going to make fun of you. I’ve certainly got no place throwing stones about this.”
    Ty worked his jaw back and forth and then snorted. He was smiling as he looked away. “I’m a goofy drunk,” he admitted.
    Zane didn’t see what was so bad about that. “That would affect work, yeah, but why is that so awful in general?”
    Ty laughed. “One day I’ll show you,” he promised, looking back at Zane with a hint of that old mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
    That was promise enough to make Zane smile and relax. “All right. On with the lesson.”
    “First: always order extra ice. Let it melt in your drink and dilute it.” As Ty talked the waiter returned with a tray and the requested items. The tiny table at their knees was more for show than anything, but he managed to fit the three glasses on it. Ty placed the ice bucket and the carafe of water on the ground. Once they were alone again, Ty said, “And order the next round before you’re done. The waiter will clear out your old drink when he brings your new one.”
    “Makes sense,” Zane commented as he watched Ty move things around.
    Ty took the glass of Scotch and wedged it into the seat beside his leg. Then he moved the remaining two glasses around on the table and poured water into both of them, filling both almost to the brim. He picked one up and mockingly toasted Zane with it.
    “The best way to stay sober is to be a sloppy drunk,” he said under his breath. He jerked his hand to the side and sat forward suddenly, as if he was excited about what he was about to say. Water sloshed out of his glass onto the floor. His eyes were bigger as he grabbed for Zane with his free hand. “Be very excited when you talk,” he said emphatically, waving his hand again.
    Zane tried to hold back his smile, because really, this was supposed to be serious. He