While Royce and Horatio sorted out the sushi, Luc sent for their bags from the locker room. He settled on the bed with them and fed them by hand.

It was more enjoyable than he imagined it would be. His boys cut up every minute, joking and poking fun at each other.

It was beautiful.

By the time the food was gone, they were more than ready to call it a night.

Luc lay in the middle of the plush bed while Horatio and Royce found and plugged up their phones. They slid into the bed on either side of him and pulled the covers up.

Horatio gathered him close, and Luc happily pressed his back against the bigger man. Royce scooted up to him, laying his head on his shoulder and sighed in contentment.

"Best night ever," Horatio mumbled, drifting off.

"Ever," Royce agreed, snuggling into Luc's arms.

Heart full, Luc closed his eyes.

It was, indeed.

***

Luc's ear twitched and a moment later, he was pulled from sleep by two ringing phones.

The men on either side of him jerked up and reached out.

"Yeah, Fitzgerald."

"This is Carlisle."

They both sounded wide awake, and Luc couldn't imagine how they managed it so quickly without coffee.

"Where?" Horatio asked.

"Give me the address again," Royce said at the same time.

"You got Dispatch?" Horatio asked, rising from the bed.

"Yeah, North Side. Luc, we need to go," Royce added quietly.

"I know," he nodded. He felt compelled to add, "Take care, both of you."

"It's a body," Horatio put in, pulling his clothes on. "In a house, just like you said."

Nameless fear sprung to life, making Luc's heart speed up. "Stay together," he urged them, listening as they finished dressing and sat to get their boots on. "Whatever you do."

Royce knelt on the bed. "Do you See something?" he asked quietly.

Luc squeezed his eyes shut, the fear growing into foreboding. "Don't let anything separate you and be careful."

"We will, Luc," Royce promised.

Luc cupped the back of Hunter's head and pressed his forehead against the other man's, fighting against the dread. "I wish you didn't need to go," he whispered.

"Hey, it's okay," Horatio crawled up behind him and kissed the back of his neck. "We'll stay together, we usually do anyway, and we'll keep our eyes open, okay?"

Luc nodded. "When your work is done, come back to me."

"Yeah, we'll meet you here," Horatio pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I mean come to my home," Luc clarified, tightening his hold on Royce in front of him.

"Oh, honey," Royce breathed, wrapping his arms around him. "Of course, we will."

"Should we bring dinner?" Horatio offered.

"No, we can cook something." Luc smiled at the thought of cooking with his boys. 

"Well, hell, we won't turn down good food," Horatio laughed. "Give us your number and we'll call when we're on the way."

***

"Is it weird that I wanna call him Daddy?"

Fitz laughed out loud, guiding the Jeep through the ongoing I-35 traffic nightmare. Even this early in the morning it was stop-and-go in some areas. Would they ever finish construction on this?

Probably not.

"I think he'd dig it. I'd call him Daddy, too. He's more that than a Master."

"He's so tender," Hunter sighed. "I mean, I always thought of Doms as...so...hard."

"Yeah, he's got a gentle approach," Fitz agreed, "but more'n firm enough when it's right for it."

"Take the Pharr exit," Hunter suggested, checking the address on his phone. "We can hop across to Main and cut some time for us."

Soon they were pulling up to a small, abandoned house on a dead-end street.

As they parked, Dr. Chase's van pulled up behind them along with two black and whites.

"A small house at the end of a bumpy road with stumps," Hunter murmured, stepping out of the Jeep. "This doesn't look anything like what Luc described."

The house was rundown and looked abandoned. Patches of grass scattered over the trash-strewn lawn, and gnarled trees stood bent and unkept with dead leaves lying in windblown piles around them.

"Is it just me gettin' a chill?" Fitz asked, coming to stand next to him.

"Nope, it is not," Hunter sighed.

"Well, do we know what we've got here?" Merry asked, joining them on the broken-down sidewalk.

"We got an anonymous tip about a smell and an unknown person seen in the area," Hunter relayed the scant information from dispatch.

"I got a real bad feelin' about this," Fitz muttered watching the two uniformed officers walking toward the house.

"Yeah, same," Hunter said quietly. "Stay close."

"Roger, that."

***

Luc hoped to shake off the creeping unease for his boys that threatened to sink him into despair by having a light breakfast at the Club before heading home.

He spoke to Jordy shortly after rising, assuring him he was safe and wouldn't need him for the day.

After dressing in loose linen pants, high-neck, long-sleeved tunic, and knee-high moccasins he wandered out to his private box, amused to hear the Club already busy. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and went back to his room, settling on the sofa.

Within moments he was up and moving again, restless, and anxious.

Something was not right with his boys.

Cleo found him pacing with his phone clutched in both hands and hurried to his side.

"What is it, sugah, what's happened?"

"I don't know," he muttered. "I just know something is wrong. I have their numbers, but I can't find them. They won't come up."

"Here let me look," Cleo took the phone from him, leading him back to the sofa. "Here, they put it under their real names. Let me call."

"Tell them... Tell them not to go in. Tell them it's not safe." Nausea and pain shuddered through Luc, leaving him chilled and sweating. "They're not safe," he whispered.

***

Fitz and Hunter shared a look when their phones buzzed at the same time. Slowing, they pulled them out. They kept them silent when they went to a scene. Both saw missed calls and a text message from Luc.

Hunter frowned and Fitz clenched his phone, eyes jumping to the uniforms and Merry, who were all nearly at the sagging porch.

"Stop!" Fitz shouted.

"Get back!" Hunter yelled at the same time.

Merry reversed himself, but the officers hesitated, one of them with a foot on the porch.

And then hell broke loose.

A roar deafened them, and heat swept out as the shockwave threw the detectives off their feet. They flew backward, slamming into the side of the Jeep. Hunter hit near the rear and Fitz was folded forcefully back over the hood.

As they crumpled to the curb, the Jeep rocked, and shattered glass and debris flew all around and into them.

"Fuck!" Fitz pulled himself up by the tall wheels of his Jeep. "Hunter!"

"I'm here, Fitz. Merry!" Ears ringing, Hunter struggled to his feet. "Dr. Chase, where are you?"

"I'm here," coughing, Merry stumbled over to them from the street. "Looks like we walked into a trap."

Choking on smoke and ash, Hunter looked around for his phone. Finding it wedged between the curb and the Jeep tire, he quickly dialed 911. "Fitz, call Luc."

"Yeah, I'm on it." Fitz looked around for his phone.

"Fire's en route," Hunter coughed, peering toward the raging flames where the house once stood. "You think there's anything left of them?"

"Not that we'd recognize as human," Merry muttered, eyes flashing. "What the fuck was this? Somebody trying to off cops for shits and giggles?"

"We can't speculate," Hunter blinked his watering eyes. "But it feels personal as fuck."

"It does, doesn't it?"

***

"Horatio, is that you, sugah?"

"Yeah, Dama, is Luc... Maestro with you?"

"He's right here, hold on."

Fitz took a deep breath while he waited. The heat from the fire raged behind him as he leaned on the driver's side door of his Jeep, careful of the shattered glass and shredded frame that he would take the time to be pissed about later.

That was too fuckin' close.

There was no doubt that the text from Luc saved them.

Some of them.

Most.

Damnit. He hated losing cops in the line of duty. 

"Horatio?"

"I'm here, Luc, Royce too. We're fine. We didn't go in."

"Grazie a Dio," he breathed. "Are either of you hurt?"

"Just some scrapes and bruises," Fitz admitted, warmed by the concern he heard in Luc's voice. "We're waitin' on Fire and Rescue. Two unis didn't make it."

"Ah, Dio," Luc whispered. "I know you have work, but per favore, come to me when you can. I must see you both."

"We will, Luc, as soon as we can."

"I'll let you get back to it then. Thank you for calling, caro. You and Royce please look out for each other."

"Do you See anything more?"

"No, nothing more, but I will call you if I do."

"A'ight, baby, we'll call when we're comin'. Get y'self home, and don't worry too much about us. We got each other, and we got you to come home to. Ain't no luckier bastards in the world."

"Ah caro," Luc laughed softly. "There you are, giving me ideas again."

"Take it all to heart, Luc," Fitz urged him. "We certainly do. We'll see you soon."

"Ciao, caro."

***

Luc clutched his phone with both hands, pressing it to his forehead in relief.

Cleo sat near him on the sofa, keeping silent until he raised his head.

"So last night went well," she remarked.

"Si, it seems. I knew something was wrong when they got a call this morning."

"I'm glad we caught them."

He nodded. "Could you drive me home, cara?"

"Of course, sugah," she rose and moved away. "You gonna Claim 'em, then?"

He smiled, getting up to take his glasses and cane from her. "I am not certain they would both agree, but the thought has occurred."

"I don't see how they would refuse, sugah. They got heart eyes every time they looked at you," she laughed.

"You do my ego much good, cara," he winked as he followed her out.

***

Hunter and Fitz sat in separate ambulances being tended to. Merry outright refused any assistance, but their captain, Joseph Lane ordered them both to get looked at or face suspension.

Hunter politely thanked the EMT and jumped down after far too long being dabbed at. He met Fitz's eye across the street as he waved off any further attention.

Lane joined them when they met, glancing back at the three fire trucks and numerous firefighters dashing about.

"So, this seems targeted," Lane said.

"Merry thought it was a trap," Hunter supplied.

"Who would want to blow the two of you to kingdom come?"

Fitz shrugged. "We got at least ten cases on our plates, but the only one we're actively workin' right now is the guy takin' eyes."

"The one you got anonymous info on last week, Carlisle?"

"Yeah, and the body we caught yesterday matches up with the tip," Hunter sighed. "We thought this would, too but," he waved a hand at the sputtering flames, "obviously not. That's not what bugs me the most about it, though."

"What I wanna know is who knew enough about this case to direct me an' Hunter here?" Fitz added, as usual in sync with Hunter. "Me, him, you, and Merry are the only ones with access to our case file, and that's where we stashed the notes about the bodies and the recording."

"I emailed both to you, Fitz, and to myself," Hunter remembered.

"Right," Lane sighed. "Put tech on both your systems, make sure you haven't been hacked."

"I didn't use personal email, Captain," Hunter said. "Intra-departmental, FWPD emails only." He was more than slightly offended. "I never send sensitive case data across public networks."

Lane nodded. "Of course, but have your systems checked anyway. I'll get the geeks on our network and give the brass a heads up." He turned to look over the fire. It seemed to be coming under control, finally. "Whoever this fucker is, I want his nuts in a vice."

"No more'n we do," Fitz growled.

"Right, I'll get Arson on this mess, you two take the rest of the day and I don't wanna see either of you before Wednesday."

"Captain-" Fitz started to protest.

"I'm not askin'," Lane insisted, turning a frown on them. "Goddammit, Fitz, we lost two good men here today. You, Merry, and your partner nearly got blown the fuck up with 'em and Mama Roz ain't even cold in the ground yet. From the feel of this, you got yourself a fuckin' psycho stalker, and right now, the best place for you both to be is away from this case."

Defeated, but brightened by how they could spend their ordered days off, Fitz nodded.

***

A uni gave them a ride to Fitz's place where he called for a tow truck to pick up his beloved Jeep for repairs. After packing a bag, they took the Malibu to Hunter's apartment at the Elan off 7th street.

Fitz called Luc on speaker from the freeway.

"Come round the drive and park in front of the garage," he instructed. "You can come through the French door to the patio from there. The guards are aware."

"You didn't go to any trouble with food, didja?" Fitz asked. "We stopped an' grabbed barbecue for lunch, and there's more'n enough for dinner."

"I've only some trays for us."

"We were wonderin' if you meant for us to stay the night? 'Cuz, we really want to."

"So forward, bello," Luc purred, raising goosebumps on Fitz's skin. "And si caro, I hope you and Royce will stay. Waking with the two of you in my bed would please me much."

"Fuck," Fitz whispered, pressing the heel of his hand on the sudden erection Luc's voice caused. He saw Hunter shift in his seat. "We'll be there with bells on, baby."

"I only required that at the Club," Luc said softly. "Despite the soundproofing, I couldn't hear the bare feet of sottos once I undressed them. Please do not feel the need to treat me as Maestro. I've invited you to my home because you and Royce are more than a scene for the evening."

Fitz swallowed and heard Hunter do the same.

"That's...You're more'n a scene to us too, Luc," he managed.

"I truly hope so," he whispered. "I will see you soon. Ciao bellos."

When Luc hung up, Fitz released a shaky breath.

"Well, it looks like we're on our way to gettin' our Dom," he murmured.

Hunter threw him a smile that made his toes curl and pressed his foot on the gas.

***

The guards waved them through, and Fitz saw they made notes on a clipboard. He also noticed cameras on the front and back sides of the guard shack that probably captured the license plates and a decent snap of their faces.

"Y'know the first time we came through here, I thought he had some excess security, but knowin' what we do now, I reckon he's actually runnin' kinda thin."

"With the patrols and the gatehouse plus all the surveillance, I guess he feels it's enough," Hunter replied. "You think he should beef it up?"

"We almost got got today," Fitz said, the grim reminder leaving him chilled. "If this nutcase knew about us, he might know about Luc."

"Fuck," Hunter muttered. "You have a point."

Hunter pulled past the gold Murano in front of the house and parked in front of the closed garage. It was a barn-style building with four bay doors and a second story. Hunter wondered if Luc used the space at all.

With their bags and the food in hand, they went around and found the patio. Wrought iron chairs sat around a glass-topped table on the mosaic tile surface. Cushioned lounge chairs sat to one side with French doors standing open behind them.

They stepped through into the house and stopped in their tracks.

Luc's studio was an open space with rolled canvas neatly stacked on a shelf above a variety of paints and carefully arranged brushes. On another wall, blocks of clay sat beside a rack with a variety of tools.

A small sofa, a lounger, and a large hanging chair were scattered along one side with small tables. Long tables were pushed against the remaining walls and Luc sat on a high stool with his hands in a sculpture.

"Ah, bellos," he sighed, covering the clay in front of him with a cloth and standing to welcome them. "Come, let me see you."

Smiling, they stepped up to meet him and stood still while Luc cleaned his hands with a wipe and came to run his hands over them.

"Like I said, just a few scrapes," Fitz assured him as he pulled him down for a kiss. He winced when those gentle hands went over a tender spot. He was learning he had more of those than he wanted to admit.

Feeling warm, and cherished, Fitz watched Luc inspect Hunter just a thoroughly.

"You're both more than scraped," he muttered, clearly distressed. "Was there no medical assistance on hand?"

"Well, yeah," Hunter glanced at him. "We both got looked at by the EMTs. They told me I might have a mild concussion and to expect soreness, stiffness, and bruising."

"Same," Fitz added.

Fitz watched Luc's eyes darken under a frown. "I've just found you," he cried fiercely. "I can't lose you. Either of you."

"We're fine, Luc," Fitz tried to soothe him. "We just need a few days to work the kinks out and make sure there're no lingering effects."

Luc cupped his cheek and he leaned into the touch. "Please let me take care of you," he whispered.

"Hell yes," Hunter breathed.

"I'm yours," Fitz whispered back, holding those sightless eyes.

Satisfied, Luc took the barbecue bags and put them on one of the tables before taking their arms.

"Now, down the hall here you will find the bedroom, third door to the right. Make yourselves comfortable and then join me here."

Bemused, they followed directions. Finding the room, they shared a look as they entered.

"It's a damn shame he's never seen any of this," Hunter whispered.

"No shit," Fitz agreed.

The bedroom was enormous, with a breathtaking view of the grounds through a bay window that took up the entire outer wall. It had shelves and a wide window seat piled with pillows and blankets, with open dark gold tapestries bracketing it all. The floor was covered in a deep cream carpet with gold highlights.

To one side a door opened to a bathroom and the other proved to be the closet.

Fitz whistled, seeing it was a fully appointed dressing room, as big as a bedroom. Hunter followed him in and ran his hands along the rows of clothing.

With a grin, he stepped back.

"All of his clothes are HoneyComb Collection."

"No shit?"

"Hannah will be tickled to death to know Lucien St. John wears her designs."

"You dig that bed, though?"

They left the closet to admire the bed. It was bigger than the bed at the Club and hung with dark gold curtains with black and gold pillows and covers. It stood in an alcove, shielded from the bay windows. It looked cozy and comfortable, and they couldn't wait to be there with Luc.

Properly impressed, they left their bags on the bench at the foot of the bed and went to join Luc in the studio.

Hunter chuckled as they got close, hearing one of their old tunes playing.

"He said he knew who I was. He must have figured you out, too."

"Well, this brings me back," Fitz grinned, bouncing to the upbeat tune.

They made it to the studio to find Cleo arranging the food on a low table. Luc was back on his stool but covered the clay when he heard them.

"All good?"

"Yeah. You have a very nice home, Luc," Hunter said, nodding to Cleo.

"Grazie, bello. I believe Prudence had many walls removed to give me more open space.  Please meet my business manager, Cleo Pruitt," he gestured toward her as she left napkins and plates in the middle of the table. "You know her as la Dama."

"Cleo," Hunter smiled. "Pleasure."

Instead of the extravagant fetish wear, Cleo wore a sleek dark emerald pants suit that draped her curves in understated elegance. Her braids were pulled up and back in a conservative French roll-type style. The only nod to her alter ego was the sky-high stiletto heels she wore.

"Shut up, Royce," she laughed. "Only reason we're just meeting is cuz Luc wanted to tell y'all who he was first. Now y'all sit down to eat, and Luc, call me if you need anything, sugah."

"I will, cara," he leaned down to accept a kiss on the cheek from her.

"Bye, boys," she picked up her green and gold Michael Kors bag and went out the French doors with a wave.

"Please, sit. Tell me what you can about your day."

Luc sat on the small sofa in front of the table. Fitz pulled up a chair and Hunter just plopped onto the cream rug covering the hardwood floor. After a moment, Fitz pushed the chair away and joined him.

"Well, our captain made us get looked at after EMTs got there," Hunter reminded him.

He picked up a plate and loaded it with potato salad, baked beans, spare ribs, and brisket. Fitz added a roll and sat the plate in front of Luc.

"Yeah, and our ME, Merry, didn't want to, but since he's not officially under our captain, he didn't have to."

"You said two did not make it?"

"Yeah." Fitz opened the sauce and dribbled some over the meat on Luc's plate. "They were already at the porch when we got your text."

"I am so sorry, caro," he sighed. "I only saw the danger to the two of you."

"You can't save everyone," Hunter said quietly. "You have brisket at three, spareribs at five, potato salad at seven, and baked beans at nine. There's more sauce on the table at one. Do you want iced tea?"

"Sweet, please, caro, and thank you."

"Captain gave us off till Wednesday," Fitz reported, building a plate for Hunter while he fetched the tea from another table. "Reckon we'd spend it with you if you're okay with that."

Luc smiled. "Oh, I am caro. I want to know both of you, beyond the Club and the bed. This would be a good start, no?"

"We thought so," Hunter said, settling back down with his legs crossed. "Gimme some of that chicken, too, Fitz."

"Bossy," Fitz remarked, adding a breast to Hunter's plate, and passing it over with a wink.

"You like him bossy, Horatio, don't deny it."

They laughed. "I do, yeah."

"To that," Luc laid the napkin Hunter handed him in his lap. "Do either of you prefer your public names?"

"I love it when you call me Royce," Hunter said, claiming a bowl of sauce. "And it is my middle name. Horatio is one of Fitz's."

"And how many names do you have, Horatio?"

"Well," he frowned, trying to decide between brisket and spareribs. He chose both. "Mama is from old Louisiana money, so she felt obliged to name me accordingly. It is a painful and weighty name."

"Let's hear it, caro, and we'll compare painfully weighty names."

Fitz sighed. "Mordekai Horatio Leander Thibodeaux Fitzgerald."

Luc shook his head. "My whole name as a boy was Luciano Gemini San Giovanni Mancini. We are tied for painful names, caro."

"Damn," Hunter laughed. "Hunter Royce Carlisle is just wimpy compared."

"I think you got me beat, Luc," Fitz conceded gladly. "Where the hell did your mama get Gemini?"

"Mamma was a great believer in the zodiac, I'm told. Each of her children was named for the constellation of their birth."

"So, when is your birthday?" Hunter asked, tasting his beans, and adding more sauce. They never had enough sauce in the beans.

"May twenty-first," Luc took a bite of his beans and reached for the sauce. "Mamma was two short of her goal, but after me, they decided against more children. Wise, considering how unpredictable their lives were at the time."

"I know, right," Fitz said. "What was she missing?"

"Mamma had every sign except Virgo and Leo. I cannot even begin to say how she timed it all so there was no overlap. I only know none of us were born under the same sign. Though Mamma was descended from the Romani, so perhaps she had some Strega to her."

"That could explain your dreams," Hunter pointed out.

"Yes, it could," Luc nodded, "if one believes in such things."

"Luc, you saved us today with a text message off a gut feeling," Hunter reminded him. "And you were right about the deaths in West Virginia, and here. How could you doubt it?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't feel like something extraordinary or mysterious to me. It's something that's always been with me.  My instinct, my intuition, never leads me wrong. I do what feels right, and things seem to fall into place when I do."

Fitz smiled when another of their old songs started playing. "How many of our records do you have, anyway?"

"Oh, all of them," Luc grinned. "I'm a dedicated fan of Carlisle. Imagine my delight to have you both at my fingertips."

"Kinda like me crushing on you in college," Hunter laughed. "Man, I had it bad."

"Still got it," Fitz arched a brow. "Anyway, so bad ya based a whole thesis on him."

"Oh? You have a doctorate, bello?"

Hunter blushed. "I double majored in Contemporary Art and Criminal Justice. I chose the MA in CJ and went for the Ph.D. in Art. And yeah, you and your work are the subjects of my thesis. I tried to get an interview with you for it, but I ran out of time."

"I never knew," Luc frowned. "Prudence must have, though I wonder why she'd deny you, knowing how much I enjoy your music."

"I don't think she did," Hunter said. "I'm pretty sure between Fitz's family connections and mine, we would'a met you at some point, but we never did."

"I'm a few years older than both of you, and I was a sickly kid," Luc sighed. "The burns were extensive, and the surgeries many. I had physical therapy for years, learning to walk again, feed and care for myself, to speak clearly.

"Pru kept me in isolation for my protection, physically, and psychologically. I was almost eighteen before my immune system was stable enough for me to go out without a dozen medical gadgets and at least three nurses. I was so self-conscious because of the scars that I hardly wanted to go anywhere near people."

"Honey," Hunter touched his hand, noting the fingerless gloves he wore, "you are fucking beautiful."

Luc smiled. "Maybe, now that's true. But I could feel how scarred my face was before the surgeries. I was not a pretty thing."

"Well," Fitz sighed, "you're a goddamn pin-up now, so that's that."

Luc laughed lightly, wiping his hands on a napkin to take a drink from his tea. "Thank you, caro. It's not the face I was born with, but Pru always told me my eyes did not change. My hair used to be black, though. I remember that much. We were all dark-haired except Mama. Her hair was red."

"Does Pru have any pictures of you as a kid anywhere?" Hunter asked.

"Not that I am aware of, no," Luc frowned. "I was never comfortable being photographed and Pru didn't exactly encourage it."

"That explains why I couldn't find any decent pictures of you for my thesis."

Luc shrugged. "I have pictures of my family that Pru had in her files, of course. There may be a few of me as well."

"It makes sense that Pru wouldn't want too many pictures of you out in the world," Fitz remarked. "Did she ever put away the assholes that killed your family?"

"I don't know. Once she took me in, she never spoke of the investigation. I never heard anything more about it."

"But she's gone to great lengths to keep you out of the public eye," Hunter pointed out. "Even after the reconstructive surgery."

"She was fanatical about keeping me safe," Luc said. "I don't know all of the measures she took, but those I am aware of are rather extensive."

"Would she have any of that in her files?" Hunter asked.

Luc shrugged. "I would presume as much. They are all in her office."

"Do you mind if we take a look?" Fitz voiced Hunter's thought. "We're kinda worried that the idiot that tried to blow us up today might know about you. It wouldn't be overkill to step up your security."

Luc nodded and got to his feet. "Pru translated the files she thought I'd want to read into Braille, but the bulk of them are still printed or on her computer. "

Luc went to his workbench and opened a drawer, to pull out a ring of keys. He led them down the hall to a heavy oak door at the end. He unlocked the door and stood back to let them enter.

"This is the only room in the house with conventional lighting," he explained. "These keys will open her filing cabinets and her desk. The passwords for the computer are under the mousepad in Braille."

Hunter took the keys and pressed a kiss to Luc's cheek. "We'll respect her space, I promise."

Luc smiled, accepting Fitz's kiss as well. "I'll be in the studio."