Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

plans have I got for the weekend?" Sebastian joked, despite the sweat already forming on his palms. "I'll bring Rachael up to date."
    Got a date tomorrow night at 8. Could use babysitter
    Less than thirty seconds later his phone chirped.
    I'll be there at 5
    "Rachael's on board."
    "Okay. I'll get that list together and keep lurking around these accounts. Dad was always nagging me to learn how it all worked."
    Sebastian wasn't sure what to do with himself for the rest of the day other than watch more TV and peek out the window in paranoia. He threw some clothes for himself and Daren into his old duffel bag along with a chunk of the med kit, in case they had to make a quick exit. While he was sorting through clothes, he found a small wooden box that he knew was lined with velvet and held his various commendations. He weighed it in his hand for a moment before throwing it in the bag with everything else.
    Every so often he'd look over Daren's shoulder, and not understand what he was seeing. There was a lot that looked like bank webpages, but from banks he'd never heard of, and in languages other than English. Daren was also scribbling in his own notebook. There were lists of what Sebastian guessed were account numbers, as well as dollar amounts. Any of those numbers was more than Sebastian hoped to earn in a lifetime.
    At six, they flipped through the news. Every news network seemed to be carrying the story of the DoJ leaks. In two days, it had gone from rumor to major scandal. No mention of the Delawares, but the collapse of some other high-profile cases were being called into question. It did lend truth to Agent Kim's claims. "How much damage to the Delawares do you think plugging those leaks will do?"
    "Minimal. Like poking little holes in the Titanic. It was built to handle that. We're going to need a fucking giant-ass iceberg after drilling holes in the lifeboats."
    "That's a slightly morbid analogy."
    "Richard liked Shakespeare's histories. Believe me, I could get bloodier."
    "I'll take your word for it."
    It was Daren who called it an early night, even though nothing would be happening until the next evening.
    Sebastian couldn't sleep. He kept running scenarios through his head: Answers to questions that might be asked what he'd do if he thought he had a tail or was attacked. He knew technically he hadn't broken any law; at least he didn't think he had. Hell, he was arguably a Good Samaritan, a hero. It didn't mean his heart wasn't beating way too fast as he stared into the dark. Beside him, he could hear Daren breathing softly. Daren had shifted close, and he could feel the warmth of his body.
    Sebastian climbed out of bed and went out to the living room. He flipped the TV on but set the sound to mute, just so there would be some light in the room.
    What the fuck are you doing? Sebastian asked himself. He was sure that somewhere along the line his life had been normal. Dull, but normal. Single, a few sort-of friends, a dull as fuck job that he got downsized from, but nothing that would get him killed. Dull, in fact, was just what he had been hoping for when he left the Navy. At least that's what he had told himself. Then he had to go and trip over a barely-legal bleach-blond and become what? His savior, his Sancho, his almost-lover?
    Sebastian gritted his teeth as he paced around the room. He knew what he'd been hiding from himself, by shoving it under worry, fear, paranoia. He knew exactly where he'd be if Daren wasn't Daren.
    Daren wasn't the first guy he'd known who'd taken a bashing for walking out of or into the wrong bar, and if it had been one of those guys he'd rescued, he would have offered to kiss it better and nurse him back to a point where they could get naked and sweaty together. But no, Daren had to go and walk into the only gay bar on the block and get bashed for stealing family secrets and trying to hand them to the FBI.
    It didn't change what Sebastian knew he was feeling; Daren was young, beautifully built, strong, smart, everything he could want in a partner. But instead of nice dinners out he was trying to be James-fucking-Bond for him, and it would take all of ten seconds for anyone not adverse to violence to realize that he was playacting all this clandestine shit. He knew he could call it off, wait until Daren was better. But Daren seemed to have some sort of ticking clock in his head, or maybe it was just the typical impatience of any twenty-year-old?
    He looked back at the bedroom door.