"Gray. Safelike." I (Sunfish, 1985)
Dec. 29th, 2008 04:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
riptide_asylumTitle: Gray. Safelike.
Rating: PG
Summary: Scuba-diving angst.
I would give you my pulse
if I thought it would be useful
I would give you my breath
except--
Let's hold here
keep holding
keep holding
let's just stay here
Button Beach Bay was not where they usually dove, but for the money their client was offering, Nick was fairly sure Cody'd try to talk him into diving in a live volcano if he had to. And he'd probably do it, too, because it was Cody doing the asking.
The Riptide was anchored fifty miles up the coast from King Harbor, where Button Beach Bay cut sharply in from the coastline; the beach part was a misnomer, the ocean waging a constant war against sheer cliffs, giant boulders staking their claims in the water. Half a mile from shore the bottom dropped away sharply and more than a hundred feet of water lay between the ocean floor and the glittering surface of the waves.
"Look Nick, it's very simple," Murray said. "Either we come up with two months back rent on the slip, or we have to leave Pier 56 and, speaking frankly here," Murray pushed his glasses back up his nose, "I ran some quick numbers on this job---nothing fancy, a little something I've been working on to evaluate situations just like these, you know, where we're not sure whether the risk is worth the potential payout? And I have to say, given both of your levels of experience with underwater salvage and recovery--and it's a funny thing but that's the part that took the longest to factor in. I thought I'd be able to use a bell curve with standard deviation, but the Roboz indicated an error margin of plus or minus seven percent, and I don't have to tell you---"
"Murray," Nick interrupted.
"Oh right, right! So anyway, the numbers don't lie. One dive plus one recovery equals two months rent." Murray illustrated the equation with his fingers.
"You guys all set?" Cody emerged from belowdecks in his wetsuit and Nick forced himself, as always, to look somewhere--anywhere--but at his best friend dressed in skintight neoprene. Mountains are good, he thought. Mountains are safe.
Nick took a calming breath, then turned around to find Murray wrestling the diving buoy from the Riptide's hold. He and Cody shared a smile, then both reached for it simultaneously. With a grin, Cody tossed it overboard then they both turned to the business of tanks and gear. This part was automatic by now: two tanks apiece, each fitted with a standard regulator and each with an octopus, the backup emergency regulator. In case something went wrong, they'd take turns sucking air from the same---mountains, Nick reminded himself. You're wearing a wetsuit, dumbass. Think about the mountains.
The three of them stood on deck surrounded by a mountain of electronics. Murray had brought out the big guns for this dive: gray box, other gray box with printouts, black box, and something that, when Cody bumped into it earlier, Murray had revealed to be a highly delicate experimental weather station. All of which were connected by a rat's nest of wiring to the Roboz.
As Nick watched, Murray typed something in the computer and several buttons on the first gray box lit up yellow. Roboz's screen suddenly read, THERE'S VERY LITTLE CHANCE OF THAT. Nick grinned. "Anything we should know about this safe, Boz?" he asked.
"Well, according to Mr Haskell, our client, it's a self-contained standard Lockhart model 718B-12. Gray, square, digital lock on the front" Murray shrugged. "The type of thing never meant to be used on board a boat, really," he continued.
"Let alone something to toss in the ocean as part of a lover's quarrel?" Nick asked. "How big is his ex-wife that she's running around throwing safes off boats? We get this thing back and she may decide to move to the welterweight class, start throwing us overboard."
"Nick, I've never known you to be scared of a girl before," Cody said teasingly.
Nick smirked. "Just like to be prepared before I save you from her." Cody's face fell and Nick and Murray laughed. "Seriously, what's the deal?"
"Apparently she had help with the throwing," Cody answered. "Our client says she showed up with some big muscle-bound jerk who did the heavy lifting. By the way the two of them were acting, he thought she might be having a thing with him."
"A thing?" Nick couldn't help himself.
"Yeah you know," Cody said, nonplussed. "I think he thinks his lady's stepping out on him!"
"Oh that type of thing," Nick said, and he and Murray nodded knowingly. "Why is it that big muscle-bound jerks get all the things?" Nick asked.
Cody made a face, and Nick punched him in the arm reassuringly. "Come on, let's go over the plan one more time."
GOOD IDEA, NICK, Roboz responded.
"Yeah, that is a good idea, guys, this dive's uh, well it's a little more technical than what you usually do."
"It's not that bad, Boz. A hundred feet, give or take. Hey Cody, you remember when we dove that sub, down in the Gulf?"
Cody nodded happily. "Yeah, that was a real beauty. Although as I remember it, you barely had eyes for the sub once you saw our dive tender, Jenny. I thought you two were gonna---"
"Guys, guys," Murray interrupted, holding up his hands. "Come on, be serious. The two of you could get into a lot of trouble down there if you don't follow the dive plan to the letter. Okay?" He looked from one of them to the other. Cody looked abashed, and Nick nodded his reluctant assent.
"Okay," Murray continued, "According to my sonar scan of this portion of the harbor grid, you'll be looking for the safe at around 100 to 105 feet. With the amount of air you'll be taking--" he indicated a row of yellow oxygen tanks lashed tight to the railing--"you'll have no more than 23 minutes to locate the safe and get it ready for retrieval before you have to start ascending. Keep track of your depth, and make three stops: three minutes at 60 feet, two minutes at 30 feet and three minutes at 15 feet."
Nick slid on his buoyancy vest and pulled it snug around his chest. "Gotcha. 23 minutes, one safe, three-two-three and out."
Murray looked pained. "That's the basic idea yes, but in any case, I went ahead and programmed the stops into your watch. I wrote this neat little program that links your depth gauge to the stopwatch function. Really boss." Murray grinned happily.
Nick and Cody exchanged a look. "Okay," Nick said, "anything special we should know about this safe? And after we find it, then what happens? How we getting it back up?"
"Well, in answer to your first question, it's just a regular safe," Murray said. "It's just...at the bottom of the ocean. According to the specs, the 718B-12 is your standard industrial-model multi-use double-pinion security case. Three feet by two and a half feet by three feet. Should stick out like a sore thumb down there."
"It'll be gray, Nick" Cody said teasingly. "You know, safelike."
"Safelike." Nick echoed. He looked at Cody's deep blue eyes, twinkling gently with merriment, and adjusted his wetsuit a little. "Well that oughta really narrow it down."
"Think of it this way," Cody rejoined. "Whatever down there isn't a fish, or silt or coral--"
"And is gray," Murray interjected.
"--and is gray," Cody continued, "is probably a safe." He thought about it for a second. "Or a shark." He grinned. "But they're harder to open."
"Thank you for the lecture, Professor Saltwater," Nick said with a smirk. "So what's the plan when we find it?"
"Oh that's right! That's the other thing. I'm glad you asked, Nick," said Murray, "because the equipment I'm sending you guys down there with is really pretty delicate. We're going to use the standard salvage balloons but, because of the unknown weight of the object we're recovering--"
"The safe," Cody interjected, slipping a mask and snorkel on top of his head.
"Exactly, Cody, the safe we're recovering could be full of relatively heavy objects or partially full or--"
"Just have a bunch of sopping wet paper in the bottom like last time?" Nick asked.
Murray laughed. "Could be, could be. So like I was saying, to deal with the unknown weight variable, I've rigged the balloons with more helium charges than you should actually need, just to make sure whatever's down there gets back up!" Murray popped up on the balls of his feet to demonstrate.
"So all we have to do is get the two balloons with these on--" Cody held up two metallic objects that whirred as he moved his hands. Numbers flowed across the Roboz's screen and Cody hefted the objects in his hands, watching the numbers change as he did.
Nick waved a hand in front of his partner's face to bring him back. "Then what?"
"Well then those radio scales send the safe's weight back up here, you guys come back up here and then boom!"
Nick and Cody leaned back. Murray looked crestfallen for a minute, then laughed. "Not the safe, the balloons. You guys..."
Nick and Cody shared a relieved glance and headed for the diving platform at the Riptide's stern. "You didn't really think he'd blow the safe underwater, did you?" Nick asked.
"For what Haskell's paying us? Let's hope not." Cody shouldered his tanks and double-checked the lines hanging from them, then sat on the edge of the boat to slip his fins on. The two of them wore masks but no hoods despite the depth of the dive; one hundred and five feet down to where their client's ex-wife's bohunk had pushed his prized possession overboard, one hundred and five feet down to a dark and silent ocean floor. The masks and lights would help keep everything in focus but they weren't going to be down long enough to need the warmth provided by hoods.
The red and white flag of the dive buoy whipped sharply in the late afternoon breeze as Nick grabbed his own fins and weight belt and met Cody on the dive platform at the back of the boat. He clipped the belt in place and sat down next to his partner.
Cody smiled wolfishly. "Is it my imagination or are you carrying a little less on your weight belt this time around, buddy? Got a little natural weight helping out this time?"
Nick gave him his best withering look as Cody slipped the rebreather into his mouth and stood up; taking one giant step off the edge of the platform he disappeared beneath the waves with a muted splash. With one last appreciative look at the late afternoon sunshine--bright and fractured on top of the water, lazy gold where it washed across the arid, hilly brushland--Nick checked his gear one last time then did the same.
The cold water always came as a shock; people thought California meant warm water and white beaches, but those first moments in the ocean took his breath away. Well, Nick thought, the wetsuit's officially no longer a worry.
Their dive line dropped into the water a few seconds afterwards and they both grabbed hold, the rope sailing cleanly down through the water and spiraling out below them. The dive line would let Murray know if something came up down here they couldn't handle, and he'd start troubleshooting.
Of course on a dive like this, they got below ninety feet and surface help was to some extent immaterial; even with two tanks apiece, they'd be subject to decompression sickness if they came up too quickly. Nick pushed the thought out of his mind and focused on the job at hand. One dive plus one recovery.
Nick pinched his nose and equalized his ears, watching his partner do the same. They were only about eight feet under at this point, the hull of the Riptide still visible overhead. He and Cody had developed their own set of dive signals, and as Nick watched, his partner checked in. You ready? Cody asked. Nick gave him the all-clear and the two of them followed the thin white rope down further into the depths.
The two of them slid cautiously down with practiced ease, and the sunlight disappeared quickly, blue water turning by degrees to the airless gray of the ocean floor.
Cody turned on his dive light first, and Nick stuck close by as they searched along the bottom. Technically this was to conserve energy should they need a second light, but Nick wasn't complaining; he rested a hand on Cody's back as they swam together and allowed himself the rare luxury of staring without end at his partner's tight, gorgeous ass, wiggling along next to him in the water.
Nick sighed, causing a cavalcade of bubbles to seep out around the edges of the rebreather. Maybe he should take a trip after this. A long trip. By himself. Figure out how to climb some of those mountains.
Cody stopped suddenly, and Nick looked up just in time for Cody to rap twice, sharply, on the plastic of his mask. Cody signed at him: you looking?
Yeah, Nick signed back wearily. I'm looking, all right.
Below them, described in stark detail by the dive light, was absolutely nothing that could be a safe.
There was a variety of spongy, thin seaweed-like plants, soft and somehow slimy to the touch, growing in great thick beds. There was a rusted, torn soda can, a tire, and for some reason, one tiny white patent leather shoe. As they kept swimming, they stumbled across an outcropping of rock, holey and rough to the touch. Nick ran his hand along the top until Cody grabbed it; at his partner's insistence he looked more closely, a hideous fanged snakelike thing out of some B-horror movie snapped its jaws. Nick recoiled in horror. Eel. Great. Damn underwater snakes.
A sheet of silvery bubbles obscured Nick's view for a second, then he figured out Cody was laughing.
However, none of this was a safe.
They shone Cody's light around a few more times then looked at each other and shrugged. As Nick watched, Cody described separate circles with his long slender fingers. They'd brought enough rope to stretch it out between them, allowing them to search separate sections of the ocean's bottom while still remaining in contact. Nick signaled his assent and the two of them checked in one last time before setting out in opposite directions.
Nick paddled his feet softly, arms at his side as he watched Cody swim away into the darkness. He felt the chill of the ocean water anew as Cody disappeared, thinking how much happier he'd be when they found this thing and got back to the surface. The enormity of the risk they were taking closed in around him, heavy on his chest like an anvil. He turned on his light and checked his watch. Fourteen minutes left, then they'd have to start back.
Nick surveyed the ocean floor. A safe should stand out from all this, right? I mean, it's not every day you see one just hanging out, laying around in the middle of the ocean, waiting to pay back rent.
He looked around and inventoried in basic terms. Fish, fish, not fish, fish...
Nick allowed himself a couple of moments to wonder how exactly he'd gotten to a point in his life where he was dependent on his best friend's ideas of career advancement. Sure, Cody had a great head on his shoulders (mountains, Nick thought, not the line of Cody's jaw, and how he ran his hands along it when he first woke up, sleepy-eyed with tousled hair, that was not a mountain at all).
Gray. Safelike. That's why they were down here, he thought, watching an impossibly long, slender yellow fish slide by him in the dark. Well, that and their sort of dire financial situation.
He cast the light around wider circles in the darkness. Murray's calculations couldn't have been wrong. If he and the Roboz said it was down here, it was definitely down here.
Nick felt the commotion just before the dive rope was ripped out of his hands.
A cloud of silt engulfed him immediately and Nick fought for control; despite the mask he closed his eyes as fine sand particles grazed his cheeks and forehead. He waited it out, suspended in the darkness, consumed by the sounds his own hitched breaths made through the regulator. The silt hadn't quite dissipated when Nick felt the dive rope glance off his shoulder. He made an instinctive grab, comforted only a little when his hands made contact with the thin nylon lifeline. For a few moments, Nick hung there in the darkness, listening to the eerie claustrophobia of his own breath too loud in his ears.
Cody.
Nick followed the line down, paddling as quickly as he dared without grazing the silty bottom. He hoped whatever had happened, his partner had been able to hang on, that this thin white rope would lead him back to his best friend. The silt settled, dispersing in the cold dark water of the Pacific, but there were no signs of life. No telltale flicker of fins, no light from Cody's lamp, no fish, yellow or otherwise. Nick froze as the end of the rope slid into his hands.
He spun around just in time to see Cody flailing, regulator floating useless and octopus swimming back behind his head. Panic was preventing him from making any co-ordinated grab for it.
Nick darted to his partner's side. He put a hand on Cody's shoulder then lurched backwards as Cody lashed out at him in his airless nightmare, fruitlessly searching. Nick moved his hand to Cody's chest and with the other, reached up and captured his partner's emergency line, unhooking it from where it had gotten caught, maneuvering it round to Cody's mouth. Breathe, Nick willed. Just put it in and breathe.
Cody sucked at the octopus for all he was worth, cheeks hollow, eyes closed. Nick floated next to him, kicking gently just above the ocean floor.
In a heartbeat Cody's relief turned back to terror and he held the octopus out to Nick, wide-eyed and panicked. Nick frowned and yanked it out of Cody's hand. He shook it. No bubbles. No air, no help. Nothing.
Next to him, Cody thrashed helplessly at the malfunctioning equipment strapped to his back and Nick swam in as close as he could. He grabbed his partner's arms and held him roughly until Cody was able to hold his gaze. Babe please, Nick thought. Stay with me.
Nick let go of one of Cody's arms and reached behind him, following the long tether of his own octopus with practiced ease, his eyes never leaving Cody's. His hand finally grazed the head of the emergency regulator and he pulled it over his shoulder and pushed it into Cody's mouth, continuing to hold it there as he watched his partner suck at it gratefully, blue eyes closing in sweet relief as the oxygen-rich mixture refilled him. Nick kept his hand on the octopus, regardless. At that point wild sea monsters couldn't have ripped it from his grasp.
Cody grabbed Nick with both hands, a reflex maneuver, Nick knew. A knee-jerk reaction to keep himself safe.
Cody opened his eyes and locked eyes with Nick. He placed one hand over Nick's on the regulator. Together they just hung there in the cold gray depths, breathing. Streams of perfect silvery bubbles spilled from their mouths and slid away.
We are way past mountains, Nick thought.
Nick let go of Cody's arm and placed his hand flat against Cody's suit, just under the collarbone. He felt his partner's chest rise and fall in the darkness and was afraid to move, as if his hand was a talisman keeping the water at bay, keeping the connection between them open, the air flowing from one to the other. The relief on Cody's face would have made him cry in any other situation. It still probably could, later, after they both got out of this alive.
He used his free hand to check Cody for injury. He ran a finger lightly along his partner's jawbone, checking for blood in his ears, looking deep into Cody's blue eyes for the same symptoms. Nothing. Whatever had happened hadn't been serious enough to cause permanent damage. Nick breathed a short prayer of thanks into the sea.
With a soft kick he rose just enough to look over his partner's shoulder. Whatever had caused the disturbance had had power enough to dislodge one of Cody's air tanks from the mounting on his back. Nick gingerly tapped the valve, unwilling to risk further danger by causing some type of explosive decompression.
Reaching his arms gently around Cody's shoulders, Nick freed the tank the rest of the way from pack and dropped it, watching it drift lazily onto the silty ocean floor. With unknown damage, they wouldn't be able to count on it on the way up.
The other tank appeared to still be in place, air tubes mounted and secure. But when Nick checked the gauge, something was wrong. This couldn't be right. He tapped it. The needle didn't budge and the news didn't improve. They were going to have to finish this dive on one set of tanks.
Feeling Cody's questioning tap on his chest, Nick floated back down in front of his partner. Rise? Cody asked, his eyes not leaving Nick's face. Nick nodded. Fuck the safe. They'd make rent some other way. They always did, and nothing was worth ever having to watch Cody come this close. The rope was still twined around Nick's wrist, the one resting on Cody, and he gave it a violent tug, letting the Riptide know the dive was over. Now all they had to do was surface.
Three, two, three. Nick checked his dive watch against the regulator. They'd barely make it, breathing on one set of tanks, but they'd make it. Probably. He met Cody's eyes, wide and trusting behind his mask, and knew Cody'd done the same math in his head.
Time to go.
They kicked gently in tandem up towards the surface, each of them breathing easily through the separate links to Nick's tanks before the depth gauge on his watch registered sixty and Nick grabbed Cody's arm, holding him in place, pointing to the watch. When they'd hit the correct depth, just as Boz promised, the display had changed to a stopwatch and they were both mesmerized by the sight of the seconds as they ticked away, spinning backwards down to zero.
Bingo. Nick pointed. Next stop: menswear, shoes, twenty-five feet.
As they ascended, Nick watched to make sure Cody took deep, even breaths; he didn't suspect his partner would do anything stupid on purpose, but if he gave back in to panic or the shock overwhelmed him or hell, if anything else went wrong on this damn dive, he could be looking at a pneumatic embolism, bends, any of the other dozen injuries that raced through Nick's brain before he clamped down on the whole train of thought.
Deep even breaths, slow ascent, and it was entirely possibly this whole thing would work. Nick wouldn't rule out taking a burst lung for his partner but let's face it, he'd rather both of them came through this with the minimum damage necessary. Three, two, three. Nothing they hadn't done dozens of times before.
One dive plus one recovery equals two morons who should know better, Nick thought.
After what seemed like an eternity he grabbed Cody's arm. Stop here, he signed. Second stop, two at 25. Two long minutes adjusting to the new pressure, then another couple of kicks to get them up to 15 for the final three minutes, then the sweet, sweet air of freedom. Funny how dive time worked. Nick focused on Cody, pinning him with his eyes.
Keep breathing, he willed. We're in this together, just like always. Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he sensed Cody relax a little, the ebb and flow of his chest slower, deeper, rhythmic and calm.
He thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
The tiny stopwatch rolled all zeroes: time to go. They slid easily up the rope until Nick signaled, the digital readout of his depth meter hitting the big one-five. As they hung wavering in the water, Nick saw his own relief mirrored in Cody's face. Almost home.
Nick watched as Cody looked longingly up to the surface, so close, so tempting. Nick squeezed his partner's shoulder, fixing him with his eyes. Take it easy, Cody, he thought. Stay with me. Breathe with me, baby. Just stay here with me and breathe. I'll never ask for anything again.
As Nick watched, Cody mastered his rising panic and held on to the octopus, his eyes locked on Nick's. Breathe with me, baby, Nick thought. Come on.
One minute.
Cody reached to the side of Nick's tanks and pulled the air gauge between them, thrusting it into Nick's field of vision. Not enough air, Cody signaled. Impossibly, the regulator took Cody's side, sputtering staler air from the bottom of the tank, and Nick knew the action was mirrored in the octopus.
Nick checked his watch with a sinking heart: they'd been down there longer than he'd thought. See, Cody implied with an eyebrow.
Nick disagreed as violently as the saltwater would allow. We breathe together, he signed back. We go together.
Cody looked at him, silent in the darkness, and then let go of the dive rope and the octopus. I'm fine, he signaled. I'm fine. His hands moved, abrupt and beautiful in the cold headlamp light.
See you on the surface.
Like hell you will, Nick thought. He looked up at the top of the water, already knowing what he'd find. From here he could see waning daylight, the sky a mirage above their heads, too far from where they were to promise anything but lungfuls of burning ocean. He couldn't understand why Cody'd chance it, going without air in the last fifteen feet of what was already a non-trivial dive.
Then the penny dropped.
Oh Cody, Nick thought. You idiot. No way I'd let you do that for me.
Nick pulled Cody roughly to him, rational thought a distant memory to instinct. He looked at Cody's heavy-lidded blue eyes and watched his mouth open as if in slow motion, then Nick pressed his lips firmly to his partner's, forming a seal between them. Sliding a hand behind Cody's head, Nick pushed the air into his partner's lungs, catching only the faintest sensation of Cody's slick, sweet tongue before his own lungs screamed and he ripped himself away, hanging motionless and suffering in the water for a minute before stroking for the surface hard, biting his lip between his teeth to keep from taking in the ocean. His muscles protested, lungs on fire and chest squeezed in agony, every stroke a battle until at last his resistance was overwhelmed by the sea and he swallowed a mouthful of water, then another.
As he broke the surface Nick coughed and spat, then sucked in warm sun-sweetened air. He coughed some more, fighting the weight of the now-useless equipment on his back. He squinted into the sun setting over the horizon then turned to face the forbidding mountains of the coastline. Over his shoulder he heard Murray, leaning over the side of the Riptide, concern and consternation in equal parts in his voice. But that wasn't what Nick was listening for. He looked around wildly. "Cody!"
Six feet from the port side, Cody's head broke the surface almost immediately following Nick's cry. He too gasped in great lungfuls of air, then burst out laughing, slapping the water with glee.
Nick let his head rest against the ocean's gentle surface caress. He closed his eyes, listening to Murray's worried ministrations, the sound of Cody being pulled back onto the Riptide, back to safety. He listened, letting relief wash over him in equal measures with the evening's gentle tide.
"Hey Nick! You gonna hang out there all day?"
He turned to see Cody stripped to the waist and leaning over the stern, calling to him. The discarded top of the wetsuit hung around Cody's hips and Nick allowed himself a moment to follow the line of Cody's stomach down to where the muscle was covered in skin-tight, wet black rubber. Mountains, huh Ryder?
"Hey Nick? Nick?"
Yeah, I'm here, man. I'm good. Nick managed to get a hand out of the water for their "all-clear" sign. He saw Cody's head drop forward with relief.
"Come on Nick, get back in the boat. Sun's going down and we found what we're looking for."
"Did we?" Nick kicked gently over to the Riptide's stern. Gingerly, he pulled himself up out of the water and didn't flinch at all when Cody appeared over the railing.
"Need a hand there, buddy?"
Nick didn't answer, pulling off the fins and shoving them haphazardly through the rails to land unseen on the deck. He stood and pulled himself up to follow them, still quiet. Dimly registering Murray turning away to do something or other to his portable computer, Nick shrugged out of the top half of his own suit, standing barechested next to his partner.
"Nick?" Cody's voice softened in the failing orange twilight. "Relax, man. We both made it." He laid a hand on Nick's arm. "Thanks. I owe you one."
Nick looked at his partner, warm blue eyes under saltwater-crazed blond hair. "Come on, Cody. S'nothing. You would have done the same for me." He laid his hand on top of Cody's, feeling warmth and relief flow between them, strengthening their connection. Then he let go, moving away across the deck. As he walked to the railing, he felt Cody's eyes on him, his silence a weight on Nick's back.
"Did you find it? And the balloons?" Nick asked.
"Just waiting for us to puff 'em up and grab the safe. It's all set. The helium charge that went off on my belt wound up not being needed." Cody indicated a jagged hole in his wetsuit, just below his waist. The neoprene was shredded and Nick could see the ridge of a perfectly tanned hipbone. He closed his eyes again.
"We did it, buddy. A few more seconds and Boz'll have that safe floating like a cork."
Nick wanted to grin, but the image of Cody airless and struggling popped unbidden before his eyes. Nothing in that safe would ever be worth it.
He turned and saw Cody watching him intently, waiting for a sign that everything was okay, but Nick could feel pressure in his joints and a sharp pain behind his eyes; it took everything he had to cross the deck and dump the rest of his gear. He breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the fading daylight, air that had never seemed so sweet or so plentiful. He crouched down on the deck and leaned down, his hands flat against the wood, feeling the dizziness, the dull ache in his sinuses.
Cody's arms were around him in an instant. "Nick."
His only response was to lay a comforting hand on Cody's arm, then he gave in to the wave of nausea that swept through him and he rested his head against his partner's bare chest, eyes closed, clinging to the relief that they'd both made it out alive from this fucked-up scheme. God, that hurt. The ache from the cruel surfacing and the fear he'd felt watching Cody battle for air turned into a giant fist in his chest.
"Easy, buddy. Easy." Cody laid him tenderly out on the deck. "Just take a minute." Nick closed his eyes, letting go.
Next thing he knew, Cody was gently slapping one side of his face. "Nick? Come back to us, buddy."
"Nick?" Murray's voice joined the fray and Nick forced his eyes open to find Cody and Murray both looming large in his view.
"What?" Nick asked. "You've never seen a guy take a power nap before?"
Cody and Murray shared a relieved look and Nick decided it was okay to close his eyes again. If they weren't worried, he probably shouldn't be. Really. They'd wake him if it was serious. Finally he rolled over and spat saltwater onto the deck in a great gout.
Nick heard Murray gasp in concern then he felt Cody's hands on his back, warm and firm, and fuck the mountains, he focused on the feel of Cody's hands instead of the burning in his lungs, a stomach full of acid and salt. Then he lay facedown on the deck for a minute and focused on not throwing up.
"You guys get the safe up yet?" he eventually managed.
"Uh yeah," Murray answered, and Nick sensed the hesitation in his voice. Damn. He should probably open his eyes again. He managed to get one eye working.
"The safe sort of came open when we raised it," Cody said, and Nick thought if he'd had it in him he'd have managed a sarcastic look in his partner's direction because he was pretty sure physics didn't work that way. "And it turns out that our esteemed client has a variety of hobbies. Which he likes to photograph."
Did Murray just giggle? How long had he been out, anyway? Nick pushed himself to a sitting position, Cody's arm around his back. "We risked our lives for dirty Polaroids?" he asked.
"In a manner of speaking," Murray began.
"Yeah," Cody finished.
Nick wanted to collapse back onto the deck but settled for resting on Cody instead. The warmth of his partner's chest was a counterpoint to the cool evening breeze that had sprung up around them, and Nick felt his partner's hand rubbing his back in slow, firm circles. It's too dark to see the mountains, Nick decided. He opened his eyes and focused on Cody's face, just inches from his own. The concern and relief he saw mingled there set loose a new ache in his chest, one that had nothing to do with diving.
"No more safe jobs," he managed. Cody dropped his head and let out his breath in a long wordless sigh, then nodded.
All in a day's work.
Part Two
Rating: PG
Summary: Scuba-diving angst.
I would give you my pulse
if I thought it would be useful
I would give you my breath
except--
Let's hold here
keep holding
keep holding
let's just stay here
Button Beach Bay was not where they usually dove, but for the money their client was offering, Nick was fairly sure Cody'd try to talk him into diving in a live volcano if he had to. And he'd probably do it, too, because it was Cody doing the asking.
The Riptide was anchored fifty miles up the coast from King Harbor, where Button Beach Bay cut sharply in from the coastline; the beach part was a misnomer, the ocean waging a constant war against sheer cliffs, giant boulders staking their claims in the water. Half a mile from shore the bottom dropped away sharply and more than a hundred feet of water lay between the ocean floor and the glittering surface of the waves.
"Look Nick, it's very simple," Murray said. "Either we come up with two months back rent on the slip, or we have to leave Pier 56 and, speaking frankly here," Murray pushed his glasses back up his nose, "I ran some quick numbers on this job---nothing fancy, a little something I've been working on to evaluate situations just like these, you know, where we're not sure whether the risk is worth the potential payout? And I have to say, given both of your levels of experience with underwater salvage and recovery--and it's a funny thing but that's the part that took the longest to factor in. I thought I'd be able to use a bell curve with standard deviation, but the Roboz indicated an error margin of plus or minus seven percent, and I don't have to tell you---"
"Murray," Nick interrupted.
"Oh right, right! So anyway, the numbers don't lie. One dive plus one recovery equals two months rent." Murray illustrated the equation with his fingers.
"You guys all set?" Cody emerged from belowdecks in his wetsuit and Nick forced himself, as always, to look somewhere--anywhere--but at his best friend dressed in skintight neoprene. Mountains are good, he thought. Mountains are safe.
Nick took a calming breath, then turned around to find Murray wrestling the diving buoy from the Riptide's hold. He and Cody shared a smile, then both reached for it simultaneously. With a grin, Cody tossed it overboard then they both turned to the business of tanks and gear. This part was automatic by now: two tanks apiece, each fitted with a standard regulator and each with an octopus, the backup emergency regulator. In case something went wrong, they'd take turns sucking air from the same---mountains, Nick reminded himself. You're wearing a wetsuit, dumbass. Think about the mountains.
The three of them stood on deck surrounded by a mountain of electronics. Murray had brought out the big guns for this dive: gray box, other gray box with printouts, black box, and something that, when Cody bumped into it earlier, Murray had revealed to be a highly delicate experimental weather station. All of which were connected by a rat's nest of wiring to the Roboz.
As Nick watched, Murray typed something in the computer and several buttons on the first gray box lit up yellow. Roboz's screen suddenly read, THERE'S VERY LITTLE CHANCE OF THAT. Nick grinned. "Anything we should know about this safe, Boz?" he asked.
"Well, according to Mr Haskell, our client, it's a self-contained standard Lockhart model 718B-12. Gray, square, digital lock on the front" Murray shrugged. "The type of thing never meant to be used on board a boat, really," he continued.
"Let alone something to toss in the ocean as part of a lover's quarrel?" Nick asked. "How big is his ex-wife that she's running around throwing safes off boats? We get this thing back and she may decide to move to the welterweight class, start throwing us overboard."
"Nick, I've never known you to be scared of a girl before," Cody said teasingly.
Nick smirked. "Just like to be prepared before I save you from her." Cody's face fell and Nick and Murray laughed. "Seriously, what's the deal?"
"Apparently she had help with the throwing," Cody answered. "Our client says she showed up with some big muscle-bound jerk who did the heavy lifting. By the way the two of them were acting, he thought she might be having a thing with him."
"A thing?" Nick couldn't help himself.
"Yeah you know," Cody said, nonplussed. "I think he thinks his lady's stepping out on him!"
"Oh that type of thing," Nick said, and he and Murray nodded knowingly. "Why is it that big muscle-bound jerks get all the things?" Nick asked.
Cody made a face, and Nick punched him in the arm reassuringly. "Come on, let's go over the plan one more time."
GOOD IDEA, NICK, Roboz responded.
"Yeah, that is a good idea, guys, this dive's uh, well it's a little more technical than what you usually do."
"It's not that bad, Boz. A hundred feet, give or take. Hey Cody, you remember when we dove that sub, down in the Gulf?"
Cody nodded happily. "Yeah, that was a real beauty. Although as I remember it, you barely had eyes for the sub once you saw our dive tender, Jenny. I thought you two were gonna---"
"Guys, guys," Murray interrupted, holding up his hands. "Come on, be serious. The two of you could get into a lot of trouble down there if you don't follow the dive plan to the letter. Okay?" He looked from one of them to the other. Cody looked abashed, and Nick nodded his reluctant assent.
"Okay," Murray continued, "According to my sonar scan of this portion of the harbor grid, you'll be looking for the safe at around 100 to 105 feet. With the amount of air you'll be taking--" he indicated a row of yellow oxygen tanks lashed tight to the railing--"you'll have no more than 23 minutes to locate the safe and get it ready for retrieval before you have to start ascending. Keep track of your depth, and make three stops: three minutes at 60 feet, two minutes at 30 feet and three minutes at 15 feet."
Nick slid on his buoyancy vest and pulled it snug around his chest. "Gotcha. 23 minutes, one safe, three-two-three and out."
Murray looked pained. "That's the basic idea yes, but in any case, I went ahead and programmed the stops into your watch. I wrote this neat little program that links your depth gauge to the stopwatch function. Really boss." Murray grinned happily.
Nick and Cody exchanged a look. "Okay," Nick said, "anything special we should know about this safe? And after we find it, then what happens? How we getting it back up?"
"Well, in answer to your first question, it's just a regular safe," Murray said. "It's just...at the bottom of the ocean. According to the specs, the 718B-12 is your standard industrial-model multi-use double-pinion security case. Three feet by two and a half feet by three feet. Should stick out like a sore thumb down there."
"It'll be gray, Nick" Cody said teasingly. "You know, safelike."
"Safelike." Nick echoed. He looked at Cody's deep blue eyes, twinkling gently with merriment, and adjusted his wetsuit a little. "Well that oughta really narrow it down."
"Think of it this way," Cody rejoined. "Whatever down there isn't a fish, or silt or coral--"
"And is gray," Murray interjected.
"--and is gray," Cody continued, "is probably a safe." He thought about it for a second. "Or a shark." He grinned. "But they're harder to open."
"Thank you for the lecture, Professor Saltwater," Nick said with a smirk. "So what's the plan when we find it?"
"Oh that's right! That's the other thing. I'm glad you asked, Nick," said Murray, "because the equipment I'm sending you guys down there with is really pretty delicate. We're going to use the standard salvage balloons but, because of the unknown weight of the object we're recovering--"
"The safe," Cody interjected, slipping a mask and snorkel on top of his head.
"Exactly, Cody, the safe we're recovering could be full of relatively heavy objects or partially full or--"
"Just have a bunch of sopping wet paper in the bottom like last time?" Nick asked.
Murray laughed. "Could be, could be. So like I was saying, to deal with the unknown weight variable, I've rigged the balloons with more helium charges than you should actually need, just to make sure whatever's down there gets back up!" Murray popped up on the balls of his feet to demonstrate.
"So all we have to do is get the two balloons with these on--" Cody held up two metallic objects that whirred as he moved his hands. Numbers flowed across the Roboz's screen and Cody hefted the objects in his hands, watching the numbers change as he did.
Nick waved a hand in front of his partner's face to bring him back. "Then what?"
"Well then those radio scales send the safe's weight back up here, you guys come back up here and then boom!"
Nick and Cody leaned back. Murray looked crestfallen for a minute, then laughed. "Not the safe, the balloons. You guys..."
Nick and Cody shared a relieved glance and headed for the diving platform at the Riptide's stern. "You didn't really think he'd blow the safe underwater, did you?" Nick asked.
"For what Haskell's paying us? Let's hope not." Cody shouldered his tanks and double-checked the lines hanging from them, then sat on the edge of the boat to slip his fins on. The two of them wore masks but no hoods despite the depth of the dive; one hundred and five feet down to where their client's ex-wife's bohunk had pushed his prized possession overboard, one hundred and five feet down to a dark and silent ocean floor. The masks and lights would help keep everything in focus but they weren't going to be down long enough to need the warmth provided by hoods.
The red and white flag of the dive buoy whipped sharply in the late afternoon breeze as Nick grabbed his own fins and weight belt and met Cody on the dive platform at the back of the boat. He clipped the belt in place and sat down next to his partner.
Cody smiled wolfishly. "Is it my imagination or are you carrying a little less on your weight belt this time around, buddy? Got a little natural weight helping out this time?"
Nick gave him his best withering look as Cody slipped the rebreather into his mouth and stood up; taking one giant step off the edge of the platform he disappeared beneath the waves with a muted splash. With one last appreciative look at the late afternoon sunshine--bright and fractured on top of the water, lazy gold where it washed across the arid, hilly brushland--Nick checked his gear one last time then did the same.
The cold water always came as a shock; people thought California meant warm water and white beaches, but those first moments in the ocean took his breath away. Well, Nick thought, the wetsuit's officially no longer a worry.
Their dive line dropped into the water a few seconds afterwards and they both grabbed hold, the rope sailing cleanly down through the water and spiraling out below them. The dive line would let Murray know if something came up down here they couldn't handle, and he'd start troubleshooting.
Of course on a dive like this, they got below ninety feet and surface help was to some extent immaterial; even with two tanks apiece, they'd be subject to decompression sickness if they came up too quickly. Nick pushed the thought out of his mind and focused on the job at hand. One dive plus one recovery.
Nick pinched his nose and equalized his ears, watching his partner do the same. They were only about eight feet under at this point, the hull of the Riptide still visible overhead. He and Cody had developed their own set of dive signals, and as Nick watched, his partner checked in. You ready? Cody asked. Nick gave him the all-clear and the two of them followed the thin white rope down further into the depths.
The two of them slid cautiously down with practiced ease, and the sunlight disappeared quickly, blue water turning by degrees to the airless gray of the ocean floor.
Cody turned on his dive light first, and Nick stuck close by as they searched along the bottom. Technically this was to conserve energy should they need a second light, but Nick wasn't complaining; he rested a hand on Cody's back as they swam together and allowed himself the rare luxury of staring without end at his partner's tight, gorgeous ass, wiggling along next to him in the water.
Nick sighed, causing a cavalcade of bubbles to seep out around the edges of the rebreather. Maybe he should take a trip after this. A long trip. By himself. Figure out how to climb some of those mountains.
Cody stopped suddenly, and Nick looked up just in time for Cody to rap twice, sharply, on the plastic of his mask. Cody signed at him: you looking?
Yeah, Nick signed back wearily. I'm looking, all right.
Below them, described in stark detail by the dive light, was absolutely nothing that could be a safe.
There was a variety of spongy, thin seaweed-like plants, soft and somehow slimy to the touch, growing in great thick beds. There was a rusted, torn soda can, a tire, and for some reason, one tiny white patent leather shoe. As they kept swimming, they stumbled across an outcropping of rock, holey and rough to the touch. Nick ran his hand along the top until Cody grabbed it; at his partner's insistence he looked more closely, a hideous fanged snakelike thing out of some B-horror movie snapped its jaws. Nick recoiled in horror. Eel. Great. Damn underwater snakes.
A sheet of silvery bubbles obscured Nick's view for a second, then he figured out Cody was laughing.
However, none of this was a safe.
They shone Cody's light around a few more times then looked at each other and shrugged. As Nick watched, Cody described separate circles with his long slender fingers. They'd brought enough rope to stretch it out between them, allowing them to search separate sections of the ocean's bottom while still remaining in contact. Nick signaled his assent and the two of them checked in one last time before setting out in opposite directions.
Nick paddled his feet softly, arms at his side as he watched Cody swim away into the darkness. He felt the chill of the ocean water anew as Cody disappeared, thinking how much happier he'd be when they found this thing and got back to the surface. The enormity of the risk they were taking closed in around him, heavy on his chest like an anvil. He turned on his light and checked his watch. Fourteen minutes left, then they'd have to start back.
Nick surveyed the ocean floor. A safe should stand out from all this, right? I mean, it's not every day you see one just hanging out, laying around in the middle of the ocean, waiting to pay back rent.
He looked around and inventoried in basic terms. Fish, fish, not fish, fish...
Nick allowed himself a couple of moments to wonder how exactly he'd gotten to a point in his life where he was dependent on his best friend's ideas of career advancement. Sure, Cody had a great head on his shoulders (mountains, Nick thought, not the line of Cody's jaw, and how he ran his hands along it when he first woke up, sleepy-eyed with tousled hair, that was not a mountain at all).
Gray. Safelike. That's why they were down here, he thought, watching an impossibly long, slender yellow fish slide by him in the dark. Well, that and their sort of dire financial situation.
He cast the light around wider circles in the darkness. Murray's calculations couldn't have been wrong. If he and the Roboz said it was down here, it was definitely down here.
Nick felt the commotion just before the dive rope was ripped out of his hands.
A cloud of silt engulfed him immediately and Nick fought for control; despite the mask he closed his eyes as fine sand particles grazed his cheeks and forehead. He waited it out, suspended in the darkness, consumed by the sounds his own hitched breaths made through the regulator. The silt hadn't quite dissipated when Nick felt the dive rope glance off his shoulder. He made an instinctive grab, comforted only a little when his hands made contact with the thin nylon lifeline. For a few moments, Nick hung there in the darkness, listening to the eerie claustrophobia of his own breath too loud in his ears.
Cody.
Nick followed the line down, paddling as quickly as he dared without grazing the silty bottom. He hoped whatever had happened, his partner had been able to hang on, that this thin white rope would lead him back to his best friend. The silt settled, dispersing in the cold dark water of the Pacific, but there were no signs of life. No telltale flicker of fins, no light from Cody's lamp, no fish, yellow or otherwise. Nick froze as the end of the rope slid into his hands.
He spun around just in time to see Cody flailing, regulator floating useless and octopus swimming back behind his head. Panic was preventing him from making any co-ordinated grab for it.
Nick darted to his partner's side. He put a hand on Cody's shoulder then lurched backwards as Cody lashed out at him in his airless nightmare, fruitlessly searching. Nick moved his hand to Cody's chest and with the other, reached up and captured his partner's emergency line, unhooking it from where it had gotten caught, maneuvering it round to Cody's mouth. Breathe, Nick willed. Just put it in and breathe.
Cody sucked at the octopus for all he was worth, cheeks hollow, eyes closed. Nick floated next to him, kicking gently just above the ocean floor.
In a heartbeat Cody's relief turned back to terror and he held the octopus out to Nick, wide-eyed and panicked. Nick frowned and yanked it out of Cody's hand. He shook it. No bubbles. No air, no help. Nothing.
Next to him, Cody thrashed helplessly at the malfunctioning equipment strapped to his back and Nick swam in as close as he could. He grabbed his partner's arms and held him roughly until Cody was able to hold his gaze. Babe please, Nick thought. Stay with me.
Nick let go of one of Cody's arms and reached behind him, following the long tether of his own octopus with practiced ease, his eyes never leaving Cody's. His hand finally grazed the head of the emergency regulator and he pulled it over his shoulder and pushed it into Cody's mouth, continuing to hold it there as he watched his partner suck at it gratefully, blue eyes closing in sweet relief as the oxygen-rich mixture refilled him. Nick kept his hand on the octopus, regardless. At that point wild sea monsters couldn't have ripped it from his grasp.
Cody grabbed Nick with both hands, a reflex maneuver, Nick knew. A knee-jerk reaction to keep himself safe.
Cody opened his eyes and locked eyes with Nick. He placed one hand over Nick's on the regulator. Together they just hung there in the cold gray depths, breathing. Streams of perfect silvery bubbles spilled from their mouths and slid away.
We are way past mountains, Nick thought.
Nick let go of Cody's arm and placed his hand flat against Cody's suit, just under the collarbone. He felt his partner's chest rise and fall in the darkness and was afraid to move, as if his hand was a talisman keeping the water at bay, keeping the connection between them open, the air flowing from one to the other. The relief on Cody's face would have made him cry in any other situation. It still probably could, later, after they both got out of this alive.
He used his free hand to check Cody for injury. He ran a finger lightly along his partner's jawbone, checking for blood in his ears, looking deep into Cody's blue eyes for the same symptoms. Nothing. Whatever had happened hadn't been serious enough to cause permanent damage. Nick breathed a short prayer of thanks into the sea.
With a soft kick he rose just enough to look over his partner's shoulder. Whatever had caused the disturbance had had power enough to dislodge one of Cody's air tanks from the mounting on his back. Nick gingerly tapped the valve, unwilling to risk further danger by causing some type of explosive decompression.
Reaching his arms gently around Cody's shoulders, Nick freed the tank the rest of the way from pack and dropped it, watching it drift lazily onto the silty ocean floor. With unknown damage, they wouldn't be able to count on it on the way up.
The other tank appeared to still be in place, air tubes mounted and secure. But when Nick checked the gauge, something was wrong. This couldn't be right. He tapped it. The needle didn't budge and the news didn't improve. They were going to have to finish this dive on one set of tanks.
Feeling Cody's questioning tap on his chest, Nick floated back down in front of his partner. Rise? Cody asked, his eyes not leaving Nick's face. Nick nodded. Fuck the safe. They'd make rent some other way. They always did, and nothing was worth ever having to watch Cody come this close. The rope was still twined around Nick's wrist, the one resting on Cody, and he gave it a violent tug, letting the Riptide know the dive was over. Now all they had to do was surface.
Three, two, three. Nick checked his dive watch against the regulator. They'd barely make it, breathing on one set of tanks, but they'd make it. Probably. He met Cody's eyes, wide and trusting behind his mask, and knew Cody'd done the same math in his head.
Time to go.
They kicked gently in tandem up towards the surface, each of them breathing easily through the separate links to Nick's tanks before the depth gauge on his watch registered sixty and Nick grabbed Cody's arm, holding him in place, pointing to the watch. When they'd hit the correct depth, just as Boz promised, the display had changed to a stopwatch and they were both mesmerized by the sight of the seconds as they ticked away, spinning backwards down to zero.
Bingo. Nick pointed. Next stop: menswear, shoes, twenty-five feet.
As they ascended, Nick watched to make sure Cody took deep, even breaths; he didn't suspect his partner would do anything stupid on purpose, but if he gave back in to panic or the shock overwhelmed him or hell, if anything else went wrong on this damn dive, he could be looking at a pneumatic embolism, bends, any of the other dozen injuries that raced through Nick's brain before he clamped down on the whole train of thought.
Deep even breaths, slow ascent, and it was entirely possibly this whole thing would work. Nick wouldn't rule out taking a burst lung for his partner but let's face it, he'd rather both of them came through this with the minimum damage necessary. Three, two, three. Nothing they hadn't done dozens of times before.
One dive plus one recovery equals two morons who should know better, Nick thought.
After what seemed like an eternity he grabbed Cody's arm. Stop here, he signed. Second stop, two at 25. Two long minutes adjusting to the new pressure, then another couple of kicks to get them up to 15 for the final three minutes, then the sweet, sweet air of freedom. Funny how dive time worked. Nick focused on Cody, pinning him with his eyes.
Keep breathing, he willed. We're in this together, just like always. Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he sensed Cody relax a little, the ebb and flow of his chest slower, deeper, rhythmic and calm.
He thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
The tiny stopwatch rolled all zeroes: time to go. They slid easily up the rope until Nick signaled, the digital readout of his depth meter hitting the big one-five. As they hung wavering in the water, Nick saw his own relief mirrored in Cody's face. Almost home.
Nick watched as Cody looked longingly up to the surface, so close, so tempting. Nick squeezed his partner's shoulder, fixing him with his eyes. Take it easy, Cody, he thought. Stay with me. Breathe with me, baby. Just stay here with me and breathe. I'll never ask for anything again.
As Nick watched, Cody mastered his rising panic and held on to the octopus, his eyes locked on Nick's. Breathe with me, baby, Nick thought. Come on.
One minute.
Cody reached to the side of Nick's tanks and pulled the air gauge between them, thrusting it into Nick's field of vision. Not enough air, Cody signaled. Impossibly, the regulator took Cody's side, sputtering staler air from the bottom of the tank, and Nick knew the action was mirrored in the octopus.
Nick checked his watch with a sinking heart: they'd been down there longer than he'd thought. See, Cody implied with an eyebrow.
Nick disagreed as violently as the saltwater would allow. We breathe together, he signed back. We go together.
Cody looked at him, silent in the darkness, and then let go of the dive rope and the octopus. I'm fine, he signaled. I'm fine. His hands moved, abrupt and beautiful in the cold headlamp light.
See you on the surface.
Like hell you will, Nick thought. He looked up at the top of the water, already knowing what he'd find. From here he could see waning daylight, the sky a mirage above their heads, too far from where they were to promise anything but lungfuls of burning ocean. He couldn't understand why Cody'd chance it, going without air in the last fifteen feet of what was already a non-trivial dive.
Then the penny dropped.
Oh Cody, Nick thought. You idiot. No way I'd let you do that for me.
Nick pulled Cody roughly to him, rational thought a distant memory to instinct. He looked at Cody's heavy-lidded blue eyes and watched his mouth open as if in slow motion, then Nick pressed his lips firmly to his partner's, forming a seal between them. Sliding a hand behind Cody's head, Nick pushed the air into his partner's lungs, catching only the faintest sensation of Cody's slick, sweet tongue before his own lungs screamed and he ripped himself away, hanging motionless and suffering in the water for a minute before stroking for the surface hard, biting his lip between his teeth to keep from taking in the ocean. His muscles protested, lungs on fire and chest squeezed in agony, every stroke a battle until at last his resistance was overwhelmed by the sea and he swallowed a mouthful of water, then another.
As he broke the surface Nick coughed and spat, then sucked in warm sun-sweetened air. He coughed some more, fighting the weight of the now-useless equipment on his back. He squinted into the sun setting over the horizon then turned to face the forbidding mountains of the coastline. Over his shoulder he heard Murray, leaning over the side of the Riptide, concern and consternation in equal parts in his voice. But that wasn't what Nick was listening for. He looked around wildly. "Cody!"
Six feet from the port side, Cody's head broke the surface almost immediately following Nick's cry. He too gasped in great lungfuls of air, then burst out laughing, slapping the water with glee.
Nick let his head rest against the ocean's gentle surface caress. He closed his eyes, listening to Murray's worried ministrations, the sound of Cody being pulled back onto the Riptide, back to safety. He listened, letting relief wash over him in equal measures with the evening's gentle tide.
"Hey Nick! You gonna hang out there all day?"
He turned to see Cody stripped to the waist and leaning over the stern, calling to him. The discarded top of the wetsuit hung around Cody's hips and Nick allowed himself a moment to follow the line of Cody's stomach down to where the muscle was covered in skin-tight, wet black rubber. Mountains, huh Ryder?
"Hey Nick? Nick?"
Yeah, I'm here, man. I'm good. Nick managed to get a hand out of the water for their "all-clear" sign. He saw Cody's head drop forward with relief.
"Come on Nick, get back in the boat. Sun's going down and we found what we're looking for."
"Did we?" Nick kicked gently over to the Riptide's stern. Gingerly, he pulled himself up out of the water and didn't flinch at all when Cody appeared over the railing.
"Need a hand there, buddy?"
Nick didn't answer, pulling off the fins and shoving them haphazardly through the rails to land unseen on the deck. He stood and pulled himself up to follow them, still quiet. Dimly registering Murray turning away to do something or other to his portable computer, Nick shrugged out of the top half of his own suit, standing barechested next to his partner.
"Nick?" Cody's voice softened in the failing orange twilight. "Relax, man. We both made it." He laid a hand on Nick's arm. "Thanks. I owe you one."
Nick looked at his partner, warm blue eyes under saltwater-crazed blond hair. "Come on, Cody. S'nothing. You would have done the same for me." He laid his hand on top of Cody's, feeling warmth and relief flow between them, strengthening their connection. Then he let go, moving away across the deck. As he walked to the railing, he felt Cody's eyes on him, his silence a weight on Nick's back.
"Did you find it? And the balloons?" Nick asked.
"Just waiting for us to puff 'em up and grab the safe. It's all set. The helium charge that went off on my belt wound up not being needed." Cody indicated a jagged hole in his wetsuit, just below his waist. The neoprene was shredded and Nick could see the ridge of a perfectly tanned hipbone. He closed his eyes again.
"We did it, buddy. A few more seconds and Boz'll have that safe floating like a cork."
Nick wanted to grin, but the image of Cody airless and struggling popped unbidden before his eyes. Nothing in that safe would ever be worth it.
He turned and saw Cody watching him intently, waiting for a sign that everything was okay, but Nick could feel pressure in his joints and a sharp pain behind his eyes; it took everything he had to cross the deck and dump the rest of his gear. He breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the fading daylight, air that had never seemed so sweet or so plentiful. He crouched down on the deck and leaned down, his hands flat against the wood, feeling the dizziness, the dull ache in his sinuses.
Cody's arms were around him in an instant. "Nick."
His only response was to lay a comforting hand on Cody's arm, then he gave in to the wave of nausea that swept through him and he rested his head against his partner's bare chest, eyes closed, clinging to the relief that they'd both made it out alive from this fucked-up scheme. God, that hurt. The ache from the cruel surfacing and the fear he'd felt watching Cody battle for air turned into a giant fist in his chest.
"Easy, buddy. Easy." Cody laid him tenderly out on the deck. "Just take a minute." Nick closed his eyes, letting go.
Next thing he knew, Cody was gently slapping one side of his face. "Nick? Come back to us, buddy."
"Nick?" Murray's voice joined the fray and Nick forced his eyes open to find Cody and Murray both looming large in his view.
"What?" Nick asked. "You've never seen a guy take a power nap before?"
Cody and Murray shared a relieved look and Nick decided it was okay to close his eyes again. If they weren't worried, he probably shouldn't be. Really. They'd wake him if it was serious. Finally he rolled over and spat saltwater onto the deck in a great gout.
Nick heard Murray gasp in concern then he felt Cody's hands on his back, warm and firm, and fuck the mountains, he focused on the feel of Cody's hands instead of the burning in his lungs, a stomach full of acid and salt. Then he lay facedown on the deck for a minute and focused on not throwing up.
"You guys get the safe up yet?" he eventually managed.
"Uh yeah," Murray answered, and Nick sensed the hesitation in his voice. Damn. He should probably open his eyes again. He managed to get one eye working.
"The safe sort of came open when we raised it," Cody said, and Nick thought if he'd had it in him he'd have managed a sarcastic look in his partner's direction because he was pretty sure physics didn't work that way. "And it turns out that our esteemed client has a variety of hobbies. Which he likes to photograph."
Did Murray just giggle? How long had he been out, anyway? Nick pushed himself to a sitting position, Cody's arm around his back. "We risked our lives for dirty Polaroids?" he asked.
"In a manner of speaking," Murray began.
"Yeah," Cody finished.
Nick wanted to collapse back onto the deck but settled for resting on Cody instead. The warmth of his partner's chest was a counterpoint to the cool evening breeze that had sprung up around them, and Nick felt his partner's hand rubbing his back in slow, firm circles. It's too dark to see the mountains, Nick decided. He opened his eyes and focused on Cody's face, just inches from his own. The concern and relief he saw mingled there set loose a new ache in his chest, one that had nothing to do with diving.
"No more safe jobs," he managed. Cody dropped his head and let out his breath in a long wordless sigh, then nodded.
All in a day's work.
Part Two
