We Don't Die

Chapter Title: The Prime of Your Life

Chapter rating: R

Musical Inspiration: Under the Gun by Supreme Beings of Leisure









Present Day, 2007



“It’s weird,” Danny muttered. He was standing in the lobbing of an apartment building with Flack and Mac. It was early evening and all three of them had the night off. Danny was wondering how the hell that had happened until he remembered that Mac made his own schedule and Danny’s, and it was Flack’s night off anyway. Stella had remarked that this was the first selfish act Mac had performed in at least a decade, and she would be more than happy to work with only Lindsay and Hawkes. They’d call in extra help if they needed it.



“What’s weird?” Flack wondered, a grocery bag dangling from one hand. It had some bread, some lunchmeat, and some chips. Danny was holding a six-pack.



Danny shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called to a crime scene on this block.”



“’Course you haven’t,” Flack admonished. “It’s Oasis Block.”



Mac surprisingly nodded as though it was his due, though Danny had no idea why in the hell Mac would take credit for that, and then Mac pulled out his keys and turned the lock next to the private elevator. Danny lifted an eyebrow. “Penthouse? Nice.”



“Don’t get any ideas,” Mac muttered. “You’ve seen this building. I just keep the penthouse because it’s got plenty of storage space.”



Flack nodded. “It ain’t the Ritz. It’s just… Mac’s place.” The door opened and they all stepped inside.



Mac nodded absently. “I told you that I own this building, didn’t I? Just so I’d have a say in whether or not they ever planned to knock it down.”



Danny’s eyes bugged out. “You own this apartment building.”



“And collect rent from the tenants. Not in person, you understand, but still.” Mac looked at Danny calmly. “I also purchased most of the equipment in the Crime Lab myself. I thought it would be useful to have, so I ordered it.”



Danny started to stutter the question but stopped himself. Mac lifted an eyebrow and answered anyway. “There was a thirty-year period in my life where I barely touched my savings accounts. I don’t buy groceries, and the only things I do with internal plumbing are brush my teeth, take a shower, or do laundry. And I don’t own a car. I barely use public transport as it is.”



“He also was one of the people that invested in cell phones and all those different computer companies when they were just startin’ out.” Flack gave a too-casual shrug and looked at his godfather. “You turned down the bottled water, though.”



“Well, that’s excusable,” Mac said almost peevishly. “The only food or beverage I’m concerned with is the kind that you can’t invest in. Yet.”



Flack leaned closer to Danny and whispered conspiratorially. “He’s also got his fingers in more scientific research labs than you could even believe.”



Mac tilted his head; of course he could still hear Flack just fine. “I’ve lived long enough to see clearly that science and technology is where humanity is heading. I’m not a greedy man but having money makes it easier to make things happen, like funding research for artificial blood and blood substitutes.”



Flack grinned even wider. “Hey Danny, I figure I’d better prepare ya for what you’re about to see. Just give ya a little advance warning, because the apartment’s kinda shocking to people that’ve never seen it.” Both Danny and Mac lifted eyebrows, and Flack couldn’t help snickering. “Mac’s addicted to eBay. And lemme tell ya, he’s a fuckin’ shark. I swear, he’ll see somethin’ he wants and he’ll go ‘mine!’ and make this big-ass bid in the last hour of the auction and then just sit back and smirk at the computer.”



Mac cleared his throat and faced the elevator door. “You forget that I was a child during the Great Depression. Being able to get so much for so little, and from all over the world… it’s a hard habit to break.” He paused. “And I do not yell ‘mine.’ I… state it. Calmly.”



“Uh-huh. Ya know, Mac, they say that admittin’ a problem is the first step to recovery.” Flack cocked his head at Danny. “And now you know why he’s such a penny-pinchin’ bastard when he does the budget for the lab.”



Danny’s eyes were wide. “So… is the whole night gonna be like this?”



“Probably,” Mac muttered, cutting off Flack. “I’ll admit, it would be nice to just sit around and talk. I haven’t done that in a while.”



Flack grinned. “And what better way to pass the evening than swappin’ embarrassin’ stories with your favorite godson, all in front of your new boyfriend?”



Mac went rigid. “Don! That’s—“



“Payback for diggin’ around for dirt on me and Devon and makin’ those smart-ass remarks about us settlin’ down together. Those sources you got? Some of ‘em are my sources, too, and a few of ‘em actually like me better than you.” Flack was downright shameless, grinning between Danny and Mac. “So how ‘bout it, Danno? Wanna know all Mac’s dirty little secrets so you don’t get freaked out later on?”



Danny glanced over at Mac, who had apparently decided that he’d never seen a more interesting elevator ceiling in his life. Danny looked back at Flack. “I dunno if I’m ready for Mac’s dirty secrets, but I’ll take a few o’yours for starters.”



Mac gave one of the creepiest ominous chuckles that Danny had ever heard. “That can be arranged.” The vampire gave Flack a dark smile and even showed his fangs, and Danny’s knees twitched. Evidently Danny was giving off pheromones again, judging by the momentary widening of Mac’s nostrils, but then the elevator finally reached Mac’s apartment.



The doors dinged open and Mac stood in the entryway of his spacious penthouse suite, Flack and Danny peering over his shoulders. They just stared into the living room before Mac cleared his throat. “Pardon the dust. I’ve been… neglecting it.”



“Dust?” Flack snorted as they stepped farther inside. “This apartment hasn’t seen dust ever since you moved in.” It also hadn’t seen much use except as a sort of warehouse, either. As penthouse apartments tended to have some cavernous rooms, at least half of the largest room was dedicated to high bookshelves that were very tidily crammed to full capacity. Another part had enough computer-type stuff to make any geek spontaneously combust. Tucked against one wall, almost as an afterthought, was a couch, a couple of chairs, a coffee table, and what might be a TV cabinet. “It’s seen plenty of structural reinforcing, but no dust.”



Matter of fact, this ‘apartment’ didn’t really strike Danny as a living space at all. It was more like Mac had decided which of his things would fit best in which areas and tossed any notions of feng shui right out the window. Judging by the way things were arranged, Mac was the type of person to only really ‘live’ in small areas and used the rest of the space for storage. Then again Mac was going to live a long time; he could use all the storage space he could get. “Mac, you’ve gotta be the tidiest packrat in the world.”



Mac frowned at him and pulled a tissue out of his pocket, pulling open the TV cabinet and swiping it across the top of the oldest entertainment center Danny had ever seen. Danny’s eyes widened. “Is that… an eight-track tape player?”



Flack nodded; Mac was growling to himself as he managed to find dust particles on his tissue. Flack grinned at Danny. “It still works, too, or at least it did last time I was here. Every so often he takes it apart and cleans it, and if he has to he’ll fix it himself. He’s got a little workshop in here, can make just about any part he needs.”



Mac disappeared into a room off to the side and yelled absently for them to make themselves at home, as he had work to do. Danny frowned. “The hell is he up to?”



Flack just shrugged. “He’s the closest thing to OCD I’ve ever seen without being certifiable. Neat freak. Seein’ his apartment dirty drives him batshit. And for just one guy, it’s a big fuckin’ apartment.”



Danny looked around the room, at the meager furniture and sparse décor and scattered neat subsections of different collections. “When was the last time he went shoppin’? The eighties?”



Flack understood what he meant, aesthetics rather than function, and indicated the couch. “I think this is the most recent thing, besides the TV. It was… spring of ’95, I think.”



Danny blinked at him. “You remember when he got the couch?”



Flack gave a ‘what are you gonna do’ look. “Mac redecorates only when he absolutely has to, like when they were knockin’ walls down and doin’ ‘renovations’ to remove lead paint or asbestos.” He glanced in Mac’s direction and his grin turned sly. “I think Ma actually marked it on her calendar when Mac brought that home. He likes his routine, so when he does somethin’ just for the hell of it, people notice.”



There was a cabinet next to the entertainment center and Danny opened it cautiously, and his eyes grew huge. It was a handmade cabinet for audiocassette tapes, and there had to be two or three thousand in there. They looked to be in good condition, all neatly labeled and arranged first in alphabetical order by group name and then with the albums in chronological order. “He ever heard of CD’s?”



“Hey, don’t knock the tapes,” Flack said snippily. “Those are originals, bought outta the music store when they were still front-shelf stuff. I keep tellin’ him to get ‘em converted to digital, but he won’t listen.” He watched Danny pull one out of its slot, eye the title, and put it back. “By the way… I gotta warn ya, he’s real fuckin’ picky about people messin’ with his stuff. Doesn’t have many visitors, ya know. I’ll walk ya around until he gets used to ya, but just make sure you put everything back exactly where you got it.”



Danny glanced at the taller man and then stuck his finger out to nudge the tape he’d moved so it sat more snugly in its slot. “Explains why he doesn’t hire a maid.”



“Uh-huh.” Flack wagged his head in the direction of the kitchen. “C’mon, let’s get this food put up.”



If Danny had thought that the ‘living room’ was devoid of personality, the kitchen was downright blank. There was a fridge, a microwave, a sink, a stove-oven combination, a small table and a couple of chairs, and that was about it. It was like the kitchen had been just built… in the seventies. No coffee maker, no toaster, no pots and pans hanging on the walls, not even a towel hanging on the oven door. Feeling just a little disturbed for reasons he couldn’t quite articulate, Danny pulled open one of the cabinet doors and his eyebrows hit the ceiling. “Canned goods and SPAM?”



Flack shrugged. “What does he need a kitchen for?” He lowered his voice. “Besides me and Ma, you’re the first human that’s set foot in this apartment since Claire died, and her and Mac lived in a different apartment closer to the Lab. You plan on comin’ over often, you’d better bring your own food.”



And that explained why it had bothered Danny. Kitchens were the lifeblood of any home and were always stockpiles of little family treasures, but Mac’s kitchen was bereft of any and all personal touches. Danny figured that the whole apartment was pretty much this way but to have the kitchen so especially empty bothered him. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he pulled open drawers and found nothing but plastic forks, and he cocked his head. “He don’t keep food in here for ya? In case ya wanna drop by?”



Flack sighed. “I’m sure you remember what he was like just a couple’a days ago? Well, the way he was then was the way he’s been for seven fuckin’ years now. He went all hermit on us for the longest time, and ended up sleepin’ more at the Crime Lab than he did here.”



Danny looked around the too-bare kitchen again. “This is freakin’ me out, Flack.”



“I know. It does me, too.” Flack stared at the ancient refrigerator in defeat. “When I was a kid, I thought about drawin’ a bunch of pictures and hangin’ ‘em up all over the walls in here… but think of how much work that woulda been. And every time me or one of my brothers drew ‘im somethin’, you know what he did with it? He didn’t hang it up anywhere. He filed it somewhere safe so it wouldn’t get damaged and he’d never lose it. Dammit, at least stick it to the fridge for a few months…”



“I’m amazed there’s even wallpaper,” Danny muttered. Some sort of monochromatic green mosaic pattern which matched the tiny little tiles covering the wall behind the sink, in a combination of mints and a color that reminded him of toothpaste. “Quote me on this, Flack. If—and I say IF—I ever end up movin’ in with Mac, you and me are gonna drag ‘im by the hair to a fuckin’ store ta buy a buncha crappy pictures to put on the walls and some stupid refrigerator magnets. And that’s just for starters.”



“Hell, I’ll give ya some of mine, and I’m sure Ma’ll chip in.” As though to avoid looking at the depressing blankness, Flack moved to the fridge and pulled it open and was surprised to find a six-pack still in there. “Wow. I think the last time I brought booze over was… God, five or six months ago.”



“Not like he’s gonna drink ‘em, eh? And gimme one.” Danny held out his hands and Flack tossed him a beer and then went to put the newer six-pack in the fridge. Flack then put the lunchmeat and the condiments next to the beer and set the loaf of bread on the closest countertop. The bag of chips went up in the cabinet with the SPAM.



“Now that he’s bein’ sociable again,” Flack started, “this is just-in-case food. I’m thinkin’ about orderin’ some Chinese.”



“I’ll take that action.” Danny flipped open his phone but then paused. “God, I was about ta ask ya what to order for Mac. I know he don’t eat, but…”



“Everybody eats, right?” Flack gave him a lopsided grin. “Take a step back and think about it, Messer, because you’re just skatin’ around the edges of what you haven’t really acknowledged yet: Mac’s a vampire. He’s been alive a lot longer than we have, he’ll be around a long time after we’re dead, he doesn’t breathe, he doesn’t use a toilet, and the only things he puts in his mouth are—“



“I get it,” Danny interrupted, remembering Mac’s description of his dinner menu. “At the time, I thought ‘wow, you eat all that?’ But now I’m just like… that’s all he eats.”



“Well, it’s all he drinks if you wanna get technical,” Flack put in, popping the tab on his own beer.



“Yeah. But… he don’t drink a beer, or cook a steak, or go out for pizza. What happens if he tries to eat real food?”



Flack made a face. “Mac doesn’t eat real food, he just rents it. Comes right back up the same way it went down. Indigestion, bad. And that’s just if it actually manages to make it down his throat.”



Danny’s expression was one of sympathetic disgust, and he was looking at his phone again when Flack touched his arm. There was an uncharacteristically vulnerable look in the taller man’s blue eyes. “I know this is gonna sound weird, Danny, but… thanks for doin’ what you did. I honestly hope you stay with Mac, I really do. Just seein’ him, so depressed and dark…”



And what could Danny say to that, exactly? He and Mac had only slept together once, and that was a few days ago. They were both guys—which, Danny realized, bothered exactly none of the people currently in the apartment—and Danny was human while Mac was a vampire. Danny was Mac’s subordinate at work, too. What was Flack expecting, that Danny was secretly in love with Mac or something? “I gotta be honest with ya, Flack… I hooked up with him because I was pretty worried about him, too. But mostly I’d been wonderin’ what it would be like ta have sex with a vamp. I’ve been bit before, but never really tried the whole thing.”



Flack’s face was neutral. “And Mac’s not just a vamp, but a sex-vamp.”



Danny’s eyes flicked to the floor for a moment. “Yeah.”



Flack paused. “Well? So how was it?”



Danny coughed and got his face under control before it could flush. “My God, you don’t know what you’re missin’.”



“What, with an incubus or with Mac?” Flack wondered, head cocked.



Danny opened his mouth and closed it again. “Both,” he said finally.



Flack regarded him for a moment. “Take your word for it. I don’t have a problem with you doin’ guys or Mac doin’ guys, but it’s just not my thing. And if I stand really far back and take a good look, yeah I’ll admit, he’s kinda hot. But he’s also…”



“Father-figure,” Danny put in.



“Yeah. I mean, guy even changed my diapers.” Flack took another swig of his beer.



Danny blinked. “Changed… your diapers? I thought you two were jokin’! How long have you known ‘im?”



“Since I was two. My dad was Mac’s partner when Mac first joined the NYPD, and he even worked with my Grandpa on a few cases. He’s like the underground Flack family mascot. Everybody loves Mac.”



“And it doesn’t bother anybody that he’s a—“



“Nope. He doesn’t feed off Flacks.” And a brief shadow crossed Don’s face, a momentary flash of a bad memory, and then the amicable grin was back. “Any time I got into a scrape as a kid, we fixed it the old-fashioned way with some Neosporin and a band-aid. Any time we got hurt bad, well, we’d get Mac. It was weird as all hell, I don’t mind tellin’ ya, but it was quicker and cheaper than goin’ to the hospital.”



Danny snorted at that but he couldn’t help but wonder what Flack had recalled before sweeping it under the rug. Had something bad happened to the Flack family a long time ago, or to Don in particular, that had something to do with Mac being a vampire? Danny wanted to ask but at the same time he figured that it wasn’t any of his business.



“Feels rude,” Danny muttered, scrolling through the numbers on his phone. “I dunno, just feels wrong to be in Mac’s apartment and not order anything for ‘im.”



Flack gave a dirty grin. “Chinese ain’t on Mac’s menu, Danny. He’s thinkin’ Italian.”



Danny coughed and turned his back to the younger man to call the Chinese place. He ordered some for him and some that he knew Flack liked, and then flipped the phone shut. “Said half an hour.”



Flack shrugged and grabbed an extra beer for both of them and they went back to the sitting area in the living room, Flack taking a recliner and Danny landing on the couch. At almost the same time, Mac walked toward them looking uncharacteristically defeated. He sighed and sank down on the couch with nearly a full cushion between him and Danny. “I’m sorry. I’m being inhospitable.”



“S’aright,” Danny offered. “I don’t get why ya don’t hire a maid… or six.”



Mac snorted. “You know, I might. There’s a pretty big Hispanic family a few floors down and I get the feeling that money’s been tight for them lately. I’ll see about knocking off some of their rent if they’ll come up here and clean most of the rooms on a regular basis.”



Flack grinned broadly from his spot on the recliner. “Which is Mac-talk for ‘they can pay half rent if they dust and sweep and mop and vacuum, but they stay away from certain rooms and certain things in public rooms, and if they do a good job he’ll offer bonuses like helpin’ out with groceries and school supplies.’ Hey, ain’t the first time he’s done it.”



Danny looked at the vampire. “Never figured ya for such a nice guy. No offense.”



“None taken,” Mac allowed.



“I gotta say, I never thought I’d hear that you liked playin’ with kids. Doin’ the godfather thing.” Danny paused. “So, what, you let ‘im win all the board games when he was a kid?”



“Hell no,” Flack cut in. “Mac’ll knock the crap outta ya in any game you’ll play him in. It can be three-on-one and he’ll still beat ya stupid.”



Mac cleared his throat. “Don, don’t make me send the French after you again.”



Flack’s face fell. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”



“You were warned,” Mac rumbled dangerously.



Danny looked between the two of them. “Huh?”



Flack groaned. “Don’t ever play Risk with Mac. Ever. And if you do, he gets North America. It’s a pride thing or a Marines thing or somethin’, but North America’s his.”



Danny lifted an eyebrow. “And what happens if he doesn’t get it?”



Flack looked at Mac but the vampire just gave him a quietly amused look, and Flack sighed. “Last time I made a real effort to fortify North America, he was Western Europe. And they’re still scrapin’ bits of my dignity off the coast of New England.” He sent a despairing look at Danny. “Do you have any idea how wrong it is to get your ass kicked by France?”



Danny flopped back on the couch and started cackling. “Guess ya learned your lesson, eh?”



“Jesus, I already knew that Mac would wipe the floor with me. The only lesson I learned is that he can’t do foreign accents worth a damn.”



Mac’s eyes were suddenly elsewhere. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”



Flack got some of his good humor back. “He conquered everything but saved the Eastern United States for last. And he surrounded me, and he took the time to move his armies from France all the way there so that they’d be the ones to do me in. And he’s about to take my last guy off the board and he starts talkin’ in this really bad French accent—“



“I don’t recall this happening,” Mac interjected.



“—and he says ‘Thees’ll ‘urt me worse thon eet’ll ‘urt you.”



“I did not,” Mac growled.



Danny was seeing spots, he was laughing so hard. It just seemed so unreal, to think that this vampire, Mac, the uptight and anal-retentive Crime Lab supervisor would speak in a bad French accent while kicking kids’ asses in a board game.



Mac regarded the flailing Italian for a moment and finally reached out to grab Danny’s arm and haul him back up before he could fall off the couch. The movement brought Danny to sit a lot closer to Mac, but Danny didn’t seem to mind. It was like those awkward moments in dating where two people sat so far apart because they didn’t want to push boundaries and make the other party uncomfortable, but once the ice was broken, it was broken, and they couldn’t remember why they were sitting so far apart in the first place. Danny slid closer and leaned his head back on Mac’s arm, still laughing quietly to himself.



Flack was laughing too, but his laughter was more triumphant as he took another long pull from his beer. He really, really hoped Danny would stick around with Mac. He never would’ve seen it coming but now that he saw them sitting together, they didn’t make a bad couple. And he hadn’t seen Mac this happy in years… well, maybe not happy, but he wasn’t wallowing in depression either. It may have just been the feeding but Flack hoped that it was Danny. Flack liked Danny; he was a good guy.



And even though he hadn’t said anything, Don kinda figured that if Mac ever went out with anybody again, it would be with a guy for the simple reason that a woman would remind him too much of Claire. Vampires tended to get dangerously attached to their lovers… and Mac hadn’t taken his wife’s death very well. Seven years had passed, and Mac still shed tears upon the merest thought of her name. Flack didn’t like to think of what Mac had been like right after she’d died.



Danny finally stopped laughing. “Well, least of all ya learned some geography.”



Mac nodded and then smiled at his godson. “Speaking of learning things, remember that day that you brought me to your school?”



“God, how could I forget?” Flack moaned, letting his head fall back. “Vampire in a Catholic school, what the hell was I thinkin’?”



“Clearly you weren’t thinking any more than I was,” Mac grumbled. He noticed Danny waiting for an explanation. “Don was in history class—tenth grade, I think—and he corrected the teacher in class and said that the textbook was wrong. They were studying World War II and Don insisted that they’d gotten some of the troop movements wrong and that the textbook didn’t accurately recount the Battle of Iwo Jima.”



Danny cocked his head. “Why’d he say it was wrong?”



“Because I said it was wrong,” Mac said firmly, but inwardly he was wondering just how many times he was going to have this conversation. “Danny, I was in World War II. It was before I Turned and I was still a human. I enlisted in the Marines on my eighteenth birthday, in 1940. I was a member of the battle group that landed on Iwo Jima on the fourth of March, 1945. First Battalion, 28th Marines, Fifth Marine Division on the island. And by the way, the island itself is more properly called Iwo To. I think they officially changed the name last year.” He sighed, his eyes going far away for a brief time. “We gave the island back to the Japanese in ’68. They… at least did us the kindness of sending home all the Marines that died there.”



“Nice of ‘em,” Danny ventured, and when Mac didn’t move he put his hand on the vampire’s shoulder.



Mac didn’t move then, either. He didn’t appear to even notice. “You know, back then, when a Marine went down for good they were usually buried in canvas bags or ponchos. We’d remove one of their dog tags and stick it between their teeth and smash their lower jaw shut so the tags couldn’t be removed. So we could identify the bodies. I… had to do that… to some good friends of mine.” He settled back on the couch and looked down without really seeing anything, his voice quiet. “One out of every three Marines that went to that island ended up as a casualty.”



Silence reigned for a brief time. Flack exchanged a sad look with Danny, gave Mac his moment, and then took a swig of his beer. “Public schoolin’ has got nothin’ on gettin’ an education from Mac. I couldn’t tell ya when and where all the battles were fought but God if I don’t remember a firsthand account. And that textbook was wrong.”



“Well, not really wrong,” Mac allowed, falling back into the story. “More like incomplete, or at least shallow. So when the teacher challenged him to cite his source, he countered that he knew a veteran of Iwo Jima who would be glad to come to the school and set the record straight.”



Flack’s eyes darted around the room. “I might’ve failed to mention that my source was a vampire.”



Danny glanced between the two. “So how’d it turn out?”



Mac gave his godson a chagrined look. “Well, other than getting slapped in the face by a nun holding a silver cross, I think it was a success.”



“Success?” Flack barked. “You carried that burn for a week!”



“And you carried those bruises on your hands for two weeks after the Mother Superior caught up to you with that ruler,” Mac retorted.



Flack sighed and rolled his eyes at Danny, who was desperately trying to restrain himself. “Go ahead, Messer, laugh it up.”



Mac cocked his head. “What’s wrong?”



Flack sighed in something much like exasperation. “When do I get to save your ass, huh? Why can’t I ever tell embarrassin’ stories about you?”



The unexpected comment brought old memories to the surface and abruptly Mac started laughing. “I can’t help that I’ve been standing between you and certain death almost your entire life. You’re the one that gets into these situations.”



Flack groaned, and then inspiration struck. “I could always show Danny your bedroom closet.”



Mac lifted an eyebrow. “What’s so special about my closet?”



“Other than all those wardrobe accessories from the forties? And fifties? And sixties?” Flack gave Danny a mischievous look. “Mac has bell-bottoms. I swear he does. I’ve seen ‘em.”



Mac cleared his throat. “I did go to Woodstock. Even made bootleg cassettes of some of the performances.”



Danny’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t happen to get Abbie Hoffman versus Pete Townsend, did ya?”



When Mac kept a blank face and just lifted two fingers in a peace sign, Danny nearly died. As it was, Flack seemed to be making a determined effort to fall out of the chair from laughter.



There was a sudden buzzing sound, and Mac cocked his head and stood and walked over to the ancient wall-mounted speaker near the elevator. He leaned one hand against the wall and held down a button with his thumb. “Go ahead.”



“Forgive the interruption, sir,” the doorman started, “but there’s a young man down here that claims he’s delivering food to your apartment.” Obviously this didn’t happen very often.



“He is, Randall. I’ve got company.”



Slight pause. “Randall was my predecessor, sir. I’m Everett.”



“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Mac cleared his throat. “You can send the delivery boy up with the food, Everett. I’m not going to make you run all over the place.”



“Very good, sir.”



Mac sighed. “Everett, we’ve been over this. I go over this with every doorman I’ve ever had; you don’t have to call me sir.”



“I’m afraid I do, sir. I… I don’t know if I would be comfortable with calling you anything else.”



Mac’s eyes closed for a moment and his shoulders drooped. “Send up the food, Everett. That’ll be all.”



“Thank you, sir.”



Mac released the button which killed the microphone and he gave a heavy sigh. He then furrowed his brows and turned to Flack. “When did Randall quit?”



Flack looked calmly back. “He had a heart attack, Mac. Two months ago. I coulda sworn I told you. Hell, I coulda sworn you paid for the funeral and you were cussin’ a blue streak because the burial was on one of the hottest days of the year and you couldn’t go.”



Mac blinked at him and then gave a defeated groan. “That’s right, I remember. Jesus, I’ve been out of it for too long. Time… gets away from me.” He started walking back over to the couch. “Don, can you get the food when it gets up here?”



“Sure thing.” Flack set down his beer and hopped up out of the chair, and as Mac made his way back to the couch Danny impulsively patted the fabric right next to him. Mac didn’t even pause but walked straight over and sank down next to the Italian, putting his arm behind Danny’s head again. The vampire leaned his own head back and sighed, and Danny laid a hand on his knee. Mac’s response was to twitch his hand to brush fingers over Danny’s shoulder for a split second, just long enough to acknowledge the comforting touch.



Flack smiled to himself and turned his back on them as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open to reveal the frightened-looking delivery boy. Everett must’ve said something about the non-human currently living in the penthouse. In fact, he had definitely said something because the kid’s hands were shaking. “Easy,” Flack murmured. “What are ya scared for, pal? Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you up here.”



The kid swallowed and thrust the large paper bags at Flack. “The doorman said a monster lived up here. A vampire.”



Flack rolled his eyes. “C’mon, a vampire? I’m a cop.” He pointed to the badge still plainly visible on his belt, and the young man relaxed about three hairs.



“No vampires?” he asked hopefully.



Flack turned to look at the two men on the couch. “Hey, any vampires in here?”



When no response was forthcoming, the delivery boy peered around Flack and his jaw dropped at the sight of Mac’s arm more firmly around Danny’s shoulder and his other hand cupping Danny’s chin. Mac was kissing Danny slowly but deeply, the kind of firm kisses that usually lead to some good slow-and-deep sex. One of Danny’s hands was on the firm chest and the other was in Mac’s hair, and he was definitely kissing back.



Flack looked back at the delivery boy and reached for his wallet. “You wanna get outta here?”



“Uh-huh.”



The delivery boy was paid and left very quickly, and Flack brought the food over to the ‘sitting area’ and dropped it on the coffee table with a careful thunk. “All right, kids, break it up. Food’s here,” he growled good-naturedly. “C’mon, Mac. Danny’s gotta eat.”



“So do I,” Mac murmured out of the corner of his mouth, occupied.



“Can you at least wait until your godkid leaves before you two start makin’ it like rabid animals? I don’t care that you’re bonin’ but I’d really rather not see it.”



Mac grumbled loudly but gave Danny a few last kisses. When they broke apart, Danny laid his head on Mac’s shoulder and gasped quietly for several seconds. He was already starting to get that heavy-eyed look of arousal, and Flack rolled his eyes. “Hey, Count Casanova, let the guy eat.”



Mac snorted. “You know, Don, you look tired. Maybe you should take your part of the food and go ahead and go home.”



Flack shook his head and very pointedly dropped back into the chair. “Not happenin’ until Danny finishes his food.”



“Why not?” Mac growled.



“Because I know you.” Flack reached into the bag and pulled out a takeout box and a pair of chopsticks. He peered in the little container and leaned over to set it on the coffee table in front of Danny. “I know that you’ll fuck him stupid before I even get outta the building and the food’ll just sit here and go to waste and he’ll go hungry.”



Mac grumbled some more but leaned forward to grab the little white box and the chopsticks and hand them to Danny. “I believe this is yours,” he said dryly.



Flack sighed. “Don’t sound so enthusiastic about it, okay? I mean, first time I’ve sat down to dinner with you in five months and Danny’s with us. You can enjoy this too.”



Danny opened the box and pulled his chopsticks apart and started eating, Mac’s arm still draped over his shoulders. “I gotta ask, Mac… you horny or hungry?”



Mac shrugged a shoulder. “Same thing. For me, anyway.”



Danny processed that statement, and then Flack grinned and started into yet another childhood story involving him and Mac. For the most part Danny just leaned against Mac and ate and offered commentary (or almost choked on his food, he was laughing so hard), and it touched something in the Italian to see Mac like this.



Mac was talking animatedly, smiling, laughing, his hand on Danny’s shoulder alternately just rubbing as though enjoying the feeling of what was under Danny’s t-shirt, or making almost caressing motions. It felt good for Mac to have his arm around Danny. It felt good to see Mac happy. And as the food in the little white boxes dwindled, Danny was almost happy to see Mac start to get restless.



Flack saw it too. “All right, Jesus. I get it, Mac, supper’s over.”



Mac sighed, chagrined. “I’m not trying to run you off, Don, I’m really not—“



“But nothin’. I don’t mind.” And then Flack had the nerve to wink as he stood and walked over to them. “I’ve got a key and I’ll let myself out. Now that I’ve gone and broken the ice and all.”



Mac actually rolled his eyes, so he was a little surprised when Flack suddenly bent down and put an arm around Mac’s neck. “Good ta have ya back, Uncle Mac,” Flack murmured.



Mac smiled and gave his godson a somewhat awkward one-armed hug back. “Good to be back, Donnie. Now go home.”



Flack snorted. “Yeah, whatever.” He straightened and held out a hand, and Danny slapped his palm. “Later, Messer. Try not to shatter any windows, hear me?”



Danny both flushed and sputtered. “Get outta here, ya lousy—“



“Have fun,” Flack interrupted airily, and he was giving a smirk that was entirely too self-amused as he stepped toward the elevator. As he stepped into the cube, he couldn’t help looking back and seeing Mac already kissing Danny again, one large hand roaming over the Italian’s back, and Danny moaned as Mac leaned forward and leaned Danny back until the vampire was covering the human with his body.



Flack wondered if they would even make it to the bedroom, and then the elevator doors closed.