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riptide_asylumTitle: On An Old Boat, Chasing Tail
Rating: PG
Summary: Nick and Cody have never really been "out", but maybe it's time to change all that...
The Riptide rocked softly in her mooring as Nick jumped ashore and headed down the pier toward the marina office, a couple of hundred yards away. A muffled shout followed him and he grinned to himself as he waved without looking back.
"Of course I'll get your coffee, baby. Don't I always get your coffee?"
Nick hurried through his morning chores: email, answerphone, check-in with the coast guard. There were only four boats in, and for once no-one came in to spoil his day with stupid questions. The only thing spoiling his day so far was Cody's empty desk at his elbow.
But this once, Nick could live with that. It was a big day: a special day. A reunion of sorts. Brigadier General (Retired) Douglas "Pitbull" Johnson was passing through Pacific Cove, and had expressed his intention of coming aboard to party like the old days. Murray was coming down too; so while Nick rushed through the day's business, Cody was making fried chicken and salad, and filling coolers with ice and imported beer in roughly equal quantities.
Imported light beer, Nick hoped. They were none of them as young as they used to be.
He finished up well before eleven and stopped at the coffee cart, sassing the pert blonde who ran it while he waited for his order: two triple-strength macchiatos, one with marshmallows. He didn't even have to tell her anymore.
"Here y'go. Where's Cody this morning?"
Nick took his drinks. "On the Riptide."
A flash of concern crossed the girl's features and she leaned her arms on the bench, bending lower. "He's not sick, is he?"
"No." Nick shook his head, giving her a reassuring smile. Trust Cody to have every pretty woman on the pier in his pocket. "We have visitors arriving... he's getting the place ready."
"Aww. What a shame I worked today, I could've given him a hand."
Over my dead body. Nick could feel his smile slipping. He hastily readjusted it. "You have a great day, Sonja!"
"I will. My love to Cody!"
***
"Double marshmallows," Cody said appreciatively, wiping foam off his graying mustache. "Nice."
Nick eyed him. "It's black as india ink," he said reflectively, swirling the remnants of his own coffee. "Yours smell like turpentine?"
"Turpentine?" Cody frowned. "It smells like coffee, Nick. What're you talking about?"
"Sonja missed you. Sent her love." Nick drained his cup and tossed it at the wastepaper basket.
Cody frowned at him, nipping tiny pieces of styrofoam off the cup's rim with his thumbnail. Nick watched his hands, smiling slightly, wondering just how many cups he'd watched Cody destroy over the years. Hundreds, at least. Maybe even a couple of thousand.
Suddenly Cody gave a crack of laughter and tossed his own cup in the wake of Nick's. "If that was Sonja's love potion number 9, she needs to work on the formula." He jumped up, pulled Nick to his feet and kissed him, deep and slow.
Nick closed his eyes, leaning into Cody, letting the familiar heat of the two of them swell and grow inside him. At last their lips parted, but Nick didn't open his eyes, leaning his forehead against Cody's and holding him close. "Sure about the formula?"
"Sure," Cody whispered breathlessly.
Nick cracked an eye open. Cody was grinning. He raised a hand and traced Nick's cheek. "Still don't wanna kiss anyone but you," he explained.
Nick grinned back and went in for another kiss. "My favorite kind of love potion."
"Any more of that and I'll have to take a cold shower." Cody broke the kiss and gently pushed Nick away.
"Huh?" Nick opened his eyes, reaching for Cody. The way he saw it, things had just started to get interesting. He took a step toward the aft stairs, tugging gently for Cody to follow.
Cody gave a short, hungry laugh. "Nothing I'd like more," he said huskily. "But getting caught by Pitbull is still one of the worst things I can imagine."
"At least he can't court-martial us now," Nick grumbled, but stepped back, releasing Cody. For a moment there, he'd completely forgotten their prospective guests. Cody teased him about getting forgetful in his old age, but that wasn't it. Nick got forgetful, sure; anytime he looked at his beautiful blond partner, breathed him in, tasted him, he was lucky if he remembered his own name, let alone what day of the week it was or who was coming to dinner.
With an effort, Nick wrenched his mind from the warm dark stateroom, the soft cocoon of their bed, his Cody naked, golden and vital in his arms.
Cody leaned against the wall, watching him. "Kissing you was a really bad idea," he said regretfully.
"What?" Nick sat up straight, indignant. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that, Cody Allen. Kissing is always a good idea."
"I'll second that." Pitbull's deep voice entered before him, booming around the salon. Cody went scarlet, and Nick stared at him in horror for three full seconds before his brain kicked back into gear.
He jumped up and met Pitbull at the hatch, fussing with helping him inside, jokingly offering assistance. Pitbull looked as hale and hearty as he ever had, and cuffed Nick soundly when Nick offered his arm to help the retired general over the threshold.
Nick retired, laughing, and let Pitbull enter. Cody came to meet him, having regained his composure in the few seconds Nick's intervention had bought.
"All that talk of kissing got my hopes up," Pitbull proclaimed, looking around the room. "I thought for sure you'd invited a few pretty ladies over to make things interesting." He went to the window and peered out.
"We don't live next door to the Contessa anymore." Cody grinned and slapped their former commanding officer on the shoulder. "But we still got beer."
"When you get to my age, y'learn to be thankful for the blessings put before you." Pitbull's eyes gleamed as Cody gestured to the full cooler beside the table. He helped himself to a beer. "Join me, men?"
Cody and Nick exchanged a glance, and Cody grabbed two beers out of their bed of ice.
"Pleased to, sir." Nick clinked his bottle with Cody, then held it out to Pitbull.
Pitbull clinked back. "It's good to see you, boys. Now, since you've neglected to provide us with entertainment of the female persuasion, I guess we'll just have to entertain ourselves. What-all have you been doing since we nailed it to ‘em over that Orange Grove affair, huh?"
The three of them and the cooler moved up to the wheelhouse deck. Nick and Cody took turns relating a few of the more interesting cases that had marked the last year of the Riptide Detective Agency's operations, interspersed with reminisces of the time the three had spent in Vietnam.
Nick and Cody never talked about it now--not with others, not even between themselves--but with Pitbull, it was different. He was their trusted leader, the guy who'd led them into hell and out the other side. With him, it was safe to go back.
They were several beers each into the cooler by the time Murray came striding down the pier, waving and smiling as soon as he saw them on deck.
He was carrying a bulky parcel under one arm, and on coming aboard, he handed it to Pitbull with a flourish. "For old times' sake!"
Pitbull frowned and yanked off the brown paper wrapping. "The Baltimore phone book. Well I'll be damned, Bozinsky. Maybe that was a funny joke, after all!"
Amid laughter, Cody carried the thick book downstairs and returned with chicken. Nick, responding to an imperative eyebrow, fetched plates, bread and salad and the four of them made a pleasant, cheerful meal--too late to be called lunch, too early for dinner--out on deck.
There was no dessert--in keeping with the nature of the reunion all four men lit cigars instead. Nick leaned back in his deck chair, shifting slightly so that his shoulder was against Cody's. Cody put his feet up on the cooler, long tan legs as slim and appealing as they'd ever been. Nick hurriedly looked away.
"How's Charlene and the girls, Murray?"
"They're great, Nick. Oh, and Melba visited for a week--that was a scream, let me tell you."
Nick and Cody exchanged a glance. Nick rolled his eyes, then grinned, promising good behavior, as Cody's mustache got stern.
"I bet it was, Murray. Wow, I haven't seen Melba for years."
"So, you're married with kids, Bozinsky." Pitbull wagged his cigar. "Me, I been married to the army so long there's no hope for me. But you two--" Pitbull sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Always seemed to me you could have made it with the ladies. Girls like pilots--and you got the looks, Allen," he added generously. "I been expecting all these years to get an invitation to a fancy wedding, maybe a christening, and here y'are, still stuck on an old boat chasin' tail."
"I heard marriage is overrated," Nick said, matching Pitbull's body language. Cody jumped up with a muttered excuse and fled below.
"You and Cody sure have been unlucky with girls," Murray added reflectively. "A couple of times I thought for sure Cody was on to a good thing... and you and Peggy..."
Nick flinched. Back when they'd been running the agency, he and Cody had called each other "buddy" and what they did after lights out "fun". But even back then, watching Cody date women had been worse torture than anything the VC had come up with; trying to date himself had been nearly as bad.
"The way I see it, we've been lucky," Nick said, keeping his voice steady with an effort. "We've had a lot of good times. We still have good times. Those girls... it's water under the bridge, you know? Who knows where they are now, and if we were with them, who knows if we'd be happy?"
"I used to think like that." Pitbull stretched and leaned back again. "But now I'm retired, it'd be kinda nice to come home to a cozy armful."
"It's the nineties, the divorce rate's through the roof." Nick leaned back too. "The way I see it, I'm doing okay." More than okay: he wouldn't trade his life for anything. Or change any of the choices he'd made, except the one when he'd agreed to date women and let Cody do the same. But he'd been too green to recognize it as his choice to make, too afraid of losing Cody. And maybe when it came right down to it, it hadn't been a bad decision: those few years had hurt, but they'd made them both face the facts.
"Being married doesn't guarantee you a cozy armful, that's for sure," Murray said ruefully. "Maybe you're not doing so bad, Nick. Although I love my kids." He pulled out his wallet. "Here, I have some new pictures--"
Murray passed the pictures around. Nick smiled and made the right noises at Murray's two pretty daughters, heads together over a kitten, then got up as Pitbull started asking about the kids.
He found Cody in their stateroom, sitting on the bed, looking pensive. Nick sat down beside him and put his arm around him. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just thinking about what Pitbull said."
"You're upset." Nick felt tension ratchet up in his own chest, the way it always did when something was up with Cody. Or worse, with him and Cody. "What is it you want, huh? I can ring Sonja, have her come over with a couple friends. I bet she'd jump at the chance."
Cody snorted softly. "I bet she would. And then you'd sulk for a week."
"Would not." Nick thought about it. "Maybe a couple of days."
Cody laughed and pulled Nick close. "What I want, Nick Ryder, is to tell them I made it, all right. I want to tell them I'm not stuck on an old boat chasing tail; I'm living the life I always hoped for with the one I love." He took a deep breath. "The man I love."
Nick sat still, heart pounding. He tried to think, but his brain was spinning too fast. They weren't exactly closeted anymore--Pacific Coast Marina, though small, was quick to draw conclusions about newcomers, and Nick was pretty sure it had come to the simple and obvious one about a half hour after the Riptide tied up the first time--but they weren't exactly out either. He pulled back a little so he could see Cody's eyes.
"Are you saying you want us to come out?"
Cody shrugged. "Not really. It... it'd be really hard." But his eyes said differently.
Nick leaned in close and kissed him, soft and slow. "We've done a lot of hard things, man. Together, you know? C'mon. They'll be wondering where we went."
Outside, Murray and Pitbull had their heads together over the table. At first, Nick thought they were still looking at baby pictures; a moment later he realized the general and the weapons expert were discussing an airstrike, illustrated by chicken bones and assorted cutlery.
Nick watched, mesmerized, as the salt shaker became a stealth bomber. A moment later, he felt Cody's absence behind him. Unnoticed, he grabbed a beer from the cooler then turned back to the stairs.
Cody was waiting halfway down. "What the hell are they doing?"
"Bombing something." Nick shrugged. "For someone who's not into war, Murray has an unhealthy interest in guided missiles."
"If I was married to Charlene, I'd have an unhealthy interest in missiles too."
Nick choked off a laugh, and tried for stern. "You know we agreed--"
"I know, I know." Cody grinned, took Nick's beer out of his hand and took a long drink. "Listen, let's not say anything, okay? I mean, does it really matter any more? It's not like they're expecting us to--to get married or anything."
"I'll marry you tomorrow, if that's what you want. Only--" Nick eyed his partner critically. "I doubt they got wedding dresses in your size."
"I meant, they don't expect us to marry girls. Women." Cody blushed. "Stop taking the piss."
"Me? Deadly serious." Nick glanced behind him. He could just see Murray and Pitbull, still engrossed in their cutlery, and took the opportunity to move in close. "Say the word, I'll whisk you off to Vegas, get one of those one-hour licences no-one looks at too close, make you Mrs Cady Ryder before sunrise."
"Mrs Cady--" Cody managed to look both pleased and outraged at the same time. "I don't think that'd be legal in California, Nick."
"Don't care. It'd be legal on the Riptide, and that's all that matters."
"Yeah, it is all that matters." Cody turned serious. "That's what I'm saying, buddy. We don't have to tell them. Just... let them think what they've always thought."
Nick looked into Cody's eyes. For himself, he didn't care if they were closeted or out; as long as Cody shared his days, his nights, his heart, he had everything he needed. Although he liked that since the move to Pacific Cove they could cuddle on the fantail and watch the sunset without fear of what others thought.
"Is that what you really want?"
Cody looked away. "I just... don't want it to be awkward."
Nick nodded and pulled him close. Awkward was one way to describe coming out to your commanding officer and your oldest friend. And Cody had always hated confrontations. "C'mon. Let's go break up the air assault up there before someone starts firing ground-to-air missiles and the shit really hits the fan."
Cody hesitated a moment. "Are we gonna tell them?"
"Let's play it by ear."
Back on deck, they sat down at the table, close together as always. Nick pulled another beer from the cooler and passed it to Cody, then put his arm around him.
Cody tensed for an instant then accepted it, leaning into Nick.
On the other side of the table, the airstrike ran its course then segued into the helicopter chase they'd flown in the desert after rescuing Pitbull from the drug-runners within the army.
"Boss flying, Nick! Really boss flying!"
"Great shooting, Murray. You really know your way around an assault system."
Cody had started getting tense as the conversation turned to the case, and Nick rubbed his shoulder gently. He'd given up flying a year ago--Cody hadn't asked him to, would never have asked him to, but Nick had seen Cody's fear growing every time he went up, and that was something he couldn't take.
Cody didn't cope well with stress these days. A legacy from Vietnam, Nick thought: even back in the agency days, too much work without a break turned Cody haggard and haunted. But Pacific Cove was peaceful and stress-free, and if Nick missed flying a little, he made up for it watching the joy in Cody's eyes.
"What do you think, Nick?"
Nick hauled himself back to reality with a jolt, finding Pitbull and Murray looking at him expectantly. Cody shot him an amused glance. "Nick thinks the newer choppers are woefully under-armed. He's always telling me, aren't you big guy?"
"Huh. Uh, yeah."
"In some cases, I agree wholeheartedly, Ryder. But not in that one. That's some tail worth chasing!" Pitbull leaned over the side of the boat and gave an appreciative whistle.
On the pier, Sonja stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. Beside her, an older woman, full-figured and still attractive, mirrored her pose. "Nick Ryder! If these are your guests, I don't think much of their manners!"
Murray leaned over, expostulating loudly. Cody leaped up, and was just in time to catch Murray before he catapulted himself over the side of the boat.
The older woman went off into a peal of laughter. "I think your virtue's safe from these guys, honey."
Pitbull grinned. "It surely is. It was you I was whistlin' at, ma'am."
"It was, was it?" She eyed him speculatively. "And are you planning on coming on down here and putting your money where your mouth is?"
"Mom!"
"You'll have to excuse me, guys," Pitbull said, already on his way down the stairs.
Nick burst out laughing, watching as Pitbull took Sonja's mother's arm and headed off down the pier. Sonja watched for a moment, then looked back up at the Riptide.
"Should I worry?"
"He's a retired brigadier general." Cody shrugged. "I'm sorry, Sonja."
"Retired brigadier general sounds okay." Sonja turned back in the direction of her coffee cart. "See you in the morning, fellas."
Murray sat back down slowly. "Thanks, Cody. Wow, Pitbull never changes, huh?"
"You're right there." Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Man, that was fun, but reunions sure take it out of me."
"Me too." Murray stretched. "Hey, you guys don't mind if I spend the night, do you?"
"Of course not, Boz. We figured you would, and Pitbull too, once Sonja's mom gives him his marching orders. You can have your old cabin. Pitbull can take the couch."
"Really? Boss." Murray reflected on that. "You two still share, huh?"
Nick nodded. "We always have an' we always will." He looked at Murray a moment, then held out a hand to Cody.
Cody looked at Nick, then Murray, then back at Nick's hand. He put his own hand out and took it, squeezing gently. Nick squeezed back.
Murray looked from their joined hands to Cody, then to Nick. "I always wondered," he said simply, taking off his glasses and polishing them vigorously on the tail of his shirt. "But I thought if you were--if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me."
"It wasn't that we didn't want you to know," Cody said quietly. "Back then we weren't--well, we--" He stopped, looking confused.
"What Cody's trying to say is that we committed to each other in 1990," Nick said, pulling Cody back to the seat beside him. He slid his arm around Cody again. "We wanted to tell you, but Jasmine had just been born and you had your hands full, man. And after that... it was never the right time."
"1990, huh?" Murray nodded slowly and put his glasses back on. "And now it's the right time?"
Nick looked at Murray, then at Cody. "It's kinda late," he said. "But the way I see it is, better late than never."
Murray's face relaxed into a wide smile. "You know what, guys? I'll drink to that."
Rating: PG
Summary: Nick and Cody have never really been "out", but maybe it's time to change all that...
The Riptide rocked softly in her mooring as Nick jumped ashore and headed down the pier toward the marina office, a couple of hundred yards away. A muffled shout followed him and he grinned to himself as he waved without looking back.
"Of course I'll get your coffee, baby. Don't I always get your coffee?"
Nick hurried through his morning chores: email, answerphone, check-in with the coast guard. There were only four boats in, and for once no-one came in to spoil his day with stupid questions. The only thing spoiling his day so far was Cody's empty desk at his elbow.
But this once, Nick could live with that. It was a big day: a special day. A reunion of sorts. Brigadier General (Retired) Douglas "Pitbull" Johnson was passing through Pacific Cove, and had expressed his intention of coming aboard to party like the old days. Murray was coming down too; so while Nick rushed through the day's business, Cody was making fried chicken and salad, and filling coolers with ice and imported beer in roughly equal quantities.
Imported light beer, Nick hoped. They were none of them as young as they used to be.
He finished up well before eleven and stopped at the coffee cart, sassing the pert blonde who ran it while he waited for his order: two triple-strength macchiatos, one with marshmallows. He didn't even have to tell her anymore.
"Here y'go. Where's Cody this morning?"
Nick took his drinks. "On the Riptide."
A flash of concern crossed the girl's features and she leaned her arms on the bench, bending lower. "He's not sick, is he?"
"No." Nick shook his head, giving her a reassuring smile. Trust Cody to have every pretty woman on the pier in his pocket. "We have visitors arriving... he's getting the place ready."
"Aww. What a shame I worked today, I could've given him a hand."
Over my dead body. Nick could feel his smile slipping. He hastily readjusted it. "You have a great day, Sonja!"
"I will. My love to Cody!"
***
"Double marshmallows," Cody said appreciatively, wiping foam off his graying mustache. "Nice."
Nick eyed him. "It's black as india ink," he said reflectively, swirling the remnants of his own coffee. "Yours smell like turpentine?"
"Turpentine?" Cody frowned. "It smells like coffee, Nick. What're you talking about?"
"Sonja missed you. Sent her love." Nick drained his cup and tossed it at the wastepaper basket.
Cody frowned at him, nipping tiny pieces of styrofoam off the cup's rim with his thumbnail. Nick watched his hands, smiling slightly, wondering just how many cups he'd watched Cody destroy over the years. Hundreds, at least. Maybe even a couple of thousand.
Suddenly Cody gave a crack of laughter and tossed his own cup in the wake of Nick's. "If that was Sonja's love potion number 9, she needs to work on the formula." He jumped up, pulled Nick to his feet and kissed him, deep and slow.
Nick closed his eyes, leaning into Cody, letting the familiar heat of the two of them swell and grow inside him. At last their lips parted, but Nick didn't open his eyes, leaning his forehead against Cody's and holding him close. "Sure about the formula?"
"Sure," Cody whispered breathlessly.
Nick cracked an eye open. Cody was grinning. He raised a hand and traced Nick's cheek. "Still don't wanna kiss anyone but you," he explained.
Nick grinned back and went in for another kiss. "My favorite kind of love potion."
"Any more of that and I'll have to take a cold shower." Cody broke the kiss and gently pushed Nick away.
"Huh?" Nick opened his eyes, reaching for Cody. The way he saw it, things had just started to get interesting. He took a step toward the aft stairs, tugging gently for Cody to follow.
Cody gave a short, hungry laugh. "Nothing I'd like more," he said huskily. "But getting caught by Pitbull is still one of the worst things I can imagine."
"At least he can't court-martial us now," Nick grumbled, but stepped back, releasing Cody. For a moment there, he'd completely forgotten their prospective guests. Cody teased him about getting forgetful in his old age, but that wasn't it. Nick got forgetful, sure; anytime he looked at his beautiful blond partner, breathed him in, tasted him, he was lucky if he remembered his own name, let alone what day of the week it was or who was coming to dinner.
With an effort, Nick wrenched his mind from the warm dark stateroom, the soft cocoon of their bed, his Cody naked, golden and vital in his arms.
Cody leaned against the wall, watching him. "Kissing you was a really bad idea," he said regretfully.
"What?" Nick sat up straight, indignant. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that, Cody Allen. Kissing is always a good idea."
"I'll second that." Pitbull's deep voice entered before him, booming around the salon. Cody went scarlet, and Nick stared at him in horror for three full seconds before his brain kicked back into gear.
He jumped up and met Pitbull at the hatch, fussing with helping him inside, jokingly offering assistance. Pitbull looked as hale and hearty as he ever had, and cuffed Nick soundly when Nick offered his arm to help the retired general over the threshold.
Nick retired, laughing, and let Pitbull enter. Cody came to meet him, having regained his composure in the few seconds Nick's intervention had bought.
"All that talk of kissing got my hopes up," Pitbull proclaimed, looking around the room. "I thought for sure you'd invited a few pretty ladies over to make things interesting." He went to the window and peered out.
"We don't live next door to the Contessa anymore." Cody grinned and slapped their former commanding officer on the shoulder. "But we still got beer."
"When you get to my age, y'learn to be thankful for the blessings put before you." Pitbull's eyes gleamed as Cody gestured to the full cooler beside the table. He helped himself to a beer. "Join me, men?"
Cody and Nick exchanged a glance, and Cody grabbed two beers out of their bed of ice.
"Pleased to, sir." Nick clinked his bottle with Cody, then held it out to Pitbull.
Pitbull clinked back. "It's good to see you, boys. Now, since you've neglected to provide us with entertainment of the female persuasion, I guess we'll just have to entertain ourselves. What-all have you been doing since we nailed it to ‘em over that Orange Grove affair, huh?"
The three of them and the cooler moved up to the wheelhouse deck. Nick and Cody took turns relating a few of the more interesting cases that had marked the last year of the Riptide Detective Agency's operations, interspersed with reminisces of the time the three had spent in Vietnam.
Nick and Cody never talked about it now--not with others, not even between themselves--but with Pitbull, it was different. He was their trusted leader, the guy who'd led them into hell and out the other side. With him, it was safe to go back.
They were several beers each into the cooler by the time Murray came striding down the pier, waving and smiling as soon as he saw them on deck.
He was carrying a bulky parcel under one arm, and on coming aboard, he handed it to Pitbull with a flourish. "For old times' sake!"
Pitbull frowned and yanked off the brown paper wrapping. "The Baltimore phone book. Well I'll be damned, Bozinsky. Maybe that was a funny joke, after all!"
Amid laughter, Cody carried the thick book downstairs and returned with chicken. Nick, responding to an imperative eyebrow, fetched plates, bread and salad and the four of them made a pleasant, cheerful meal--too late to be called lunch, too early for dinner--out on deck.
There was no dessert--in keeping with the nature of the reunion all four men lit cigars instead. Nick leaned back in his deck chair, shifting slightly so that his shoulder was against Cody's. Cody put his feet up on the cooler, long tan legs as slim and appealing as they'd ever been. Nick hurriedly looked away.
"How's Charlene and the girls, Murray?"
"They're great, Nick. Oh, and Melba visited for a week--that was a scream, let me tell you."
Nick and Cody exchanged a glance. Nick rolled his eyes, then grinned, promising good behavior, as Cody's mustache got stern.
"I bet it was, Murray. Wow, I haven't seen Melba for years."
"So, you're married with kids, Bozinsky." Pitbull wagged his cigar. "Me, I been married to the army so long there's no hope for me. But you two--" Pitbull sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Always seemed to me you could have made it with the ladies. Girls like pilots--and you got the looks, Allen," he added generously. "I been expecting all these years to get an invitation to a fancy wedding, maybe a christening, and here y'are, still stuck on an old boat chasin' tail."
"I heard marriage is overrated," Nick said, matching Pitbull's body language. Cody jumped up with a muttered excuse and fled below.
"You and Cody sure have been unlucky with girls," Murray added reflectively. "A couple of times I thought for sure Cody was on to a good thing... and you and Peggy..."
Nick flinched. Back when they'd been running the agency, he and Cody had called each other "buddy" and what they did after lights out "fun". But even back then, watching Cody date women had been worse torture than anything the VC had come up with; trying to date himself had been nearly as bad.
"The way I see it, we've been lucky," Nick said, keeping his voice steady with an effort. "We've had a lot of good times. We still have good times. Those girls... it's water under the bridge, you know? Who knows where they are now, and if we were with them, who knows if we'd be happy?"
"I used to think like that." Pitbull stretched and leaned back again. "But now I'm retired, it'd be kinda nice to come home to a cozy armful."
"It's the nineties, the divorce rate's through the roof." Nick leaned back too. "The way I see it, I'm doing okay." More than okay: he wouldn't trade his life for anything. Or change any of the choices he'd made, except the one when he'd agreed to date women and let Cody do the same. But he'd been too green to recognize it as his choice to make, too afraid of losing Cody. And maybe when it came right down to it, it hadn't been a bad decision: those few years had hurt, but they'd made them both face the facts.
"Being married doesn't guarantee you a cozy armful, that's for sure," Murray said ruefully. "Maybe you're not doing so bad, Nick. Although I love my kids." He pulled out his wallet. "Here, I have some new pictures--"
Murray passed the pictures around. Nick smiled and made the right noises at Murray's two pretty daughters, heads together over a kitten, then got up as Pitbull started asking about the kids.
He found Cody in their stateroom, sitting on the bed, looking pensive. Nick sat down beside him and put his arm around him. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just thinking about what Pitbull said."
"You're upset." Nick felt tension ratchet up in his own chest, the way it always did when something was up with Cody. Or worse, with him and Cody. "What is it you want, huh? I can ring Sonja, have her come over with a couple friends. I bet she'd jump at the chance."
Cody snorted softly. "I bet she would. And then you'd sulk for a week."
"Would not." Nick thought about it. "Maybe a couple of days."
Cody laughed and pulled Nick close. "What I want, Nick Ryder, is to tell them I made it, all right. I want to tell them I'm not stuck on an old boat chasing tail; I'm living the life I always hoped for with the one I love." He took a deep breath. "The man I love."
Nick sat still, heart pounding. He tried to think, but his brain was spinning too fast. They weren't exactly closeted anymore--Pacific Coast Marina, though small, was quick to draw conclusions about newcomers, and Nick was pretty sure it had come to the simple and obvious one about a half hour after the Riptide tied up the first time--but they weren't exactly out either. He pulled back a little so he could see Cody's eyes.
"Are you saying you want us to come out?"
Cody shrugged. "Not really. It... it'd be really hard." But his eyes said differently.
Nick leaned in close and kissed him, soft and slow. "We've done a lot of hard things, man. Together, you know? C'mon. They'll be wondering where we went."
Outside, Murray and Pitbull had their heads together over the table. At first, Nick thought they were still looking at baby pictures; a moment later he realized the general and the weapons expert were discussing an airstrike, illustrated by chicken bones and assorted cutlery.
Nick watched, mesmerized, as the salt shaker became a stealth bomber. A moment later, he felt Cody's absence behind him. Unnoticed, he grabbed a beer from the cooler then turned back to the stairs.
Cody was waiting halfway down. "What the hell are they doing?"
"Bombing something." Nick shrugged. "For someone who's not into war, Murray has an unhealthy interest in guided missiles."
"If I was married to Charlene, I'd have an unhealthy interest in missiles too."
Nick choked off a laugh, and tried for stern. "You know we agreed--"
"I know, I know." Cody grinned, took Nick's beer out of his hand and took a long drink. "Listen, let's not say anything, okay? I mean, does it really matter any more? It's not like they're expecting us to--to get married or anything."
"I'll marry you tomorrow, if that's what you want. Only--" Nick eyed his partner critically. "I doubt they got wedding dresses in your size."
"I meant, they don't expect us to marry girls. Women." Cody blushed. "Stop taking the piss."
"Me? Deadly serious." Nick glanced behind him. He could just see Murray and Pitbull, still engrossed in their cutlery, and took the opportunity to move in close. "Say the word, I'll whisk you off to Vegas, get one of those one-hour licences no-one looks at too close, make you Mrs Cady Ryder before sunrise."
"Mrs Cady--" Cody managed to look both pleased and outraged at the same time. "I don't think that'd be legal in California, Nick."
"Don't care. It'd be legal on the Riptide, and that's all that matters."
"Yeah, it is all that matters." Cody turned serious. "That's what I'm saying, buddy. We don't have to tell them. Just... let them think what they've always thought."
Nick looked into Cody's eyes. For himself, he didn't care if they were closeted or out; as long as Cody shared his days, his nights, his heart, he had everything he needed. Although he liked that since the move to Pacific Cove they could cuddle on the fantail and watch the sunset without fear of what others thought.
"Is that what you really want?"
Cody looked away. "I just... don't want it to be awkward."
Nick nodded and pulled him close. Awkward was one way to describe coming out to your commanding officer and your oldest friend. And Cody had always hated confrontations. "C'mon. Let's go break up the air assault up there before someone starts firing ground-to-air missiles and the shit really hits the fan."
Cody hesitated a moment. "Are we gonna tell them?"
"Let's play it by ear."
Back on deck, they sat down at the table, close together as always. Nick pulled another beer from the cooler and passed it to Cody, then put his arm around him.
Cody tensed for an instant then accepted it, leaning into Nick.
On the other side of the table, the airstrike ran its course then segued into the helicopter chase they'd flown in the desert after rescuing Pitbull from the drug-runners within the army.
"Boss flying, Nick! Really boss flying!"
"Great shooting, Murray. You really know your way around an assault system."
Cody had started getting tense as the conversation turned to the case, and Nick rubbed his shoulder gently. He'd given up flying a year ago--Cody hadn't asked him to, would never have asked him to, but Nick had seen Cody's fear growing every time he went up, and that was something he couldn't take.
Cody didn't cope well with stress these days. A legacy from Vietnam, Nick thought: even back in the agency days, too much work without a break turned Cody haggard and haunted. But Pacific Cove was peaceful and stress-free, and if Nick missed flying a little, he made up for it watching the joy in Cody's eyes.
"What do you think, Nick?"
Nick hauled himself back to reality with a jolt, finding Pitbull and Murray looking at him expectantly. Cody shot him an amused glance. "Nick thinks the newer choppers are woefully under-armed. He's always telling me, aren't you big guy?"
"Huh. Uh, yeah."
"In some cases, I agree wholeheartedly, Ryder. But not in that one. That's some tail worth chasing!" Pitbull leaned over the side of the boat and gave an appreciative whistle.
On the pier, Sonja stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. Beside her, an older woman, full-figured and still attractive, mirrored her pose. "Nick Ryder! If these are your guests, I don't think much of their manners!"
Murray leaned over, expostulating loudly. Cody leaped up, and was just in time to catch Murray before he catapulted himself over the side of the boat.
The older woman went off into a peal of laughter. "I think your virtue's safe from these guys, honey."
Pitbull grinned. "It surely is. It was you I was whistlin' at, ma'am."
"It was, was it?" She eyed him speculatively. "And are you planning on coming on down here and putting your money where your mouth is?"
"Mom!"
"You'll have to excuse me, guys," Pitbull said, already on his way down the stairs.
Nick burst out laughing, watching as Pitbull took Sonja's mother's arm and headed off down the pier. Sonja watched for a moment, then looked back up at the Riptide.
"Should I worry?"
"He's a retired brigadier general." Cody shrugged. "I'm sorry, Sonja."
"Retired brigadier general sounds okay." Sonja turned back in the direction of her coffee cart. "See you in the morning, fellas."
Murray sat back down slowly. "Thanks, Cody. Wow, Pitbull never changes, huh?"
"You're right there." Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Man, that was fun, but reunions sure take it out of me."
"Me too." Murray stretched. "Hey, you guys don't mind if I spend the night, do you?"
"Of course not, Boz. We figured you would, and Pitbull too, once Sonja's mom gives him his marching orders. You can have your old cabin. Pitbull can take the couch."
"Really? Boss." Murray reflected on that. "You two still share, huh?"
Nick nodded. "We always have an' we always will." He looked at Murray a moment, then held out a hand to Cody.
Cody looked at Nick, then Murray, then back at Nick's hand. He put his own hand out and took it, squeezing gently. Nick squeezed back.
Murray looked from their joined hands to Cody, then to Nick. "I always wondered," he said simply, taking off his glasses and polishing them vigorously on the tail of his shirt. "But I thought if you were--if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me."
"It wasn't that we didn't want you to know," Cody said quietly. "Back then we weren't--well, we--" He stopped, looking confused.
"What Cody's trying to say is that we committed to each other in 1990," Nick said, pulling Cody back to the seat beside him. He slid his arm around Cody again. "We wanted to tell you, but Jasmine had just been born and you had your hands full, man. And after that... it was never the right time."
"1990, huh?" Murray nodded slowly and put his glasses back on. "And now it's the right time?"
Nick looked at Murray, then at Cody. "It's kinda late," he said. "But the way I see it is, better late than never."
Murray's face relaxed into a wide smile. "You know what, guys? I'll drink to that."
