Luc never spent the night with his subs, but Cleo was hardly sotto material. Her braids lay across his arm, her head on his shoulder. Her warm, smooth skin pressed intimately on him, keeping him in a languid, lazy state long after he was awake.

It was a pleasant experience that Luc decided he should seek more often. Perhaps Horatio would welcome the intimacy of sharing a bed with him for the night.

Perhaps Royce could join them.

"Stop thinking' s'loud," she admonished him. Her voice was husky with sleep and caressed him as surely as her hand on his thigh.

"I was thinking how nice it is to wake up with you."

She laughed, the sound vibrating down through his ribs as she shifted to press her lips to his throat. "Why thank you, sugah. Likewise."

They lounged together, working out the logistics of her taking over his estate. She soon rose from the bed and ordered a meal for them. Luc took a quick shower while Cleo went into the office.

Pulling clothes from the wardrobe, he dressed in soft jeans with a mock turtleneck.

Finding his phone, he placed a call to Jordy.

"Luc, where the hell are you?"

Jordy's abrupt greeting did not hide his deep concern. He was not accustomed to Luc being away from home. He was very close to panic, from the sound of him.

"I am with Cleo. She is a dear friend," he told him.

"You're with a chick? I thought you were gay?"

The question of his orientation wasn't one Luc was answering right now, especially with Jordy so out of sorts.

"We will meet you at my house in an hour."

"Okay. Okay, I'll see you there."

***

Mama Roz made her home in a four-bedroom, three-bath house in Mistletoe Heights. She was just a few blocks away from Magnolia Street, a hub of eclectic shops and restaurants that drew locals and tourists alike. The cozy campus of Texas Christian University was nearby, with Crockett Row, 7th street, and the western edge of downtown Fort Worth.

Roz loved being near the hub of the Cultural District and thrived amongst the eclectic groupings of artists, musicians, and students the area catered to. Her house was set back from the street on one of the larger lots, with an understated gate and long, circular drive. The house boasted two master suites plus a cottage they used as a pool house. Before he moved out on his own halfway through college, Fitz lived and paid rent there.

Roz invested the rent payments in her son's name, a fact Fitz didn't know until he graduated from the police academy when she presented him with the login for his brokerage account by way of congratulations.

Mama Roz never leased the cottage to anyone else, leaving it available for her only son's use whenever he wanted.

That was where Fitz waited for Hunter after he spotted Archie's tricked-out Landrover parked in front of the main house along with a handful of sedans. He was agitated, dreading the coming confrontation with Archie. Fitz knew the man would make it his mission to create as much chaos as possible.

Fitz just wanted to remember the good times with Mama.

Maybe drink a little.

Maybe fuck a little. Or a lot.

Not much to ask for.

He frowned when Hunter took the shot glass half full of vodka out of his hand.

"Don't let Mama see you like this," he scolded. "You can handle Archie sober. We both will."

Fitz nodded at the vodka, dangling from Hunter's fingers. "I only had one."

Hunter finished it off in one toss and put the glass down. "We'll have more later. Let's get this shit over with so we can hit the Club."

"I don't want him here," Fitz growled. "He's a fuckin' leech. Dunno how Mama put up with his triflin' ass as long as she did."

"Chances are high Mama left pretty much everything to you," Hunter pointed out, "so yeah, he's gonna be here to fight that. He's got no grounds, but that won't stop him. Let the lawyers handle it. Hell, tap Spence and put him on it. He loves Mama and her work as much as we do, and he will eat Archie's triflin' ass alive in court."

Hunter's older brother ran the legal department for the entire Carlisle empire. He despised Archie as much as Fitz did, and Spencer liked almost everyone.

"By no means are you to let that selfish, bigoted asshole see you crumble. Mama never would, and neither will you."

Fitz closed his eyes and nodded. Hunter always knew what to say to set him straight. His love for his best friend boiled over, easing the grief and anxiety that he lived with since his Mama died.

They walked up to the main house, entering through a side door into the kitchen. Hunter smiled as Mama's cook, Lupe dragged Fitz into a hug, rambling the entire time.

"Mister Kai, that pendejo think he come in here and be jefe. This your place, and Miz Roz. He never welcome here."

"I know, Lupe, don't worry," Fitz soothed her. "We'll get 'im gone soon as the readin' is done, te prometo, pues?"

"Si, si, you good boy. Miz Roz always proud 'a you, and Mister Hunter!" she clutched them both close, all five feet of her holding the two men towering over her close.

Neither man ever considered pulling away before she sighed and released them. She clasped her hands and forced a bright smile. "Quieren sopapillas y churros?"

"Hell yes!" they answered together.

Lupe's cinnamon-coated treats were a staple in the Fitzgerald household. Mama Roz even arranged for her to travel with them when they toured, just to be sure they had good home-cooked meals.

And sopapillas.

And churros.

Balancing plates piled with warm pastries, they made their way into Roz's study. Mama's lawyer was already there, seated behind her desk. Archie hovered near one of the large bay windows, looking more than a bit worse for wear. A few other people stood or sat around the study.

"Kai," Jason Keane stood and offered Fitz a hand. "Good to see you, despite the circumstances."

"You too, Jay, and thanks for comin'," Fitz dusted cinnamon from his hand with an apologetic smile.

"No worries," he tipped his head to his plate on a side table. Nothing but cinnamon dust and drops of honey remained. "I'm sure you know everyone here, so we'll get started."

Jay stepped aside and waved Fitz to the chair behind the desk.

As he moved forward, Hunter caught Archie coming from the window and stepped in his path.

He swore he was getting alcohol poisoning just from the sour whiskey fumes coming off Archie. Hunter got pissed drunk last night at Fitz's place but would not dare to show up at Mama's house looking and smelling like it. Archie had no respect, and Hunter wasn't putting up with him.

Fitz didn't need this shit.

"There's plenty of chairs," Hunter told the shorter man. "That one is not your size."

"Look here, fuck boy-"

"Archibald." Fitz settled in his mother's chair and rested his arms on the desk. He leveled the man with a steady, cold stare. "You will not disrupt us any further. Sit down, and keep ya mouth shut, or I will have you removed from my mama's house for the last time."

"Sound advice," Laura Talbot, Mama Roz's personal assistant chimed in. She dropped down to one of the leather chairs pulled up around the desk, smoothing her pencil skirt. "I doubt Ms. Fitzgerald would disagree."

The other people gathered eyed Archie with a variety of expressions, from pity to resignation. Finally, he threw himself into a chair, slouched and staring daggers at Fitz.

"Jay, let's get started," Fitz instructed.

Hunter quietly sat on a leather sofa and kept an eye on the elder Mr. Fitzgerald.

***

"You're firing me?"

Luc sighed and crossed his legs. Cleo sat beside him on the sofa in his studio while Jordy paced back and forth in front of them.

"What did I do wrong?" Jordy was almost wailing in despair. 

Cleo might be right about needing boundaries. 

"I am not firing you, Jordy," Luc tried to explain. "Cleo is already handling many of my business interests. I simply want to consolidate everything. You never allowed me to pay you what your assistance is worth, anyway."

"Because I like helping you!" Jordy cried. "It's not a job."

"But I need it to be, Jordy," Luc interrupted gently, stopping the building tirade. "Cleo is my full-time business manager, and she will be taking over managing all of my assets. I need you to give her whatever information she needs to do so, immediately."

"I'm not trying to replace you, sugah," Cleo said softly. "I cannot be here to help Luc day in and day out, that's not what I'm here for. I'll just take care of the business side of things, that's all. It'll give you more time to just hang out with your friend, won't it?"

Jordy stopped in front of Luc, ignoring Cleo.

"Is this what you want?"

"It is," Luc confirmed. "You have always been a wonderful friend. I've become more reclusive since Pru died, and you put up with me when no one else would have. I appreciate that, but it is perhaps time for me to stop hiding from the world."

"I would do anything for you, Luc," Jordy whispered fiercely.

Luc heard the tears in his voice and reached for him. His friend dropped to his knees and laid his head in his lap. "I know, and I love you for it," Luc told him, stroking his hair. "Be my friend, as you always have. I need nothing more than that from you."

Jordy nodded and sat back on his heels. "I'm sorry," he sniffled. "I just... I thought...I was afraid you didn't want me around anymore."

"Not so," Luc assured him. "Who would remind me to eat and sleep?"

"I will," Jordy promised earnestly. "I'll get everything you need together," he said to Cleo. "I didn't mean to be a dick."

"S'alright, sugah," she said, and Luc could hear her warm smile. "Luc's worth fighting for."

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Jordy got to his feet and pulled out his laptop. The two of them spent the next several minutes exchanging information and confirming logins, file transfers, and such.

Luc tuned it out, getting up to go run his hands over the sculpt he was working on of Hunter...or Royce...it didn't matter what he called himself. Luc knew he wanted him. How would he reconcile their dual personas, he wondered.

He gathered another pile of clay together and began molding it into the other man on his mind lately.

"No, not in your clothes," Jordy scolded, and he chuckled.

Luc stepped back and whipped the turtleneck over his head. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his pants.

He took the soft flannel pants Jordy handed him and slipped them on.

"You see, Jordy," Cleo laughed. "I never would 'a thought anything about it."

"Oh, he cannot work in his clothes," Jordy fussed. "He gets clay and paint everywhere, and he doesn't pay any mind to it, ever."

"So, is there someone that comes to clean, or whatever?" Cleo asked.

"Prudence arranged most of his services through Carlisle companies. They are so discreet and so quiet, he never really notices them," Jordy explained. "Here, Carlisle Cleaning. They know not to move anything and to not bother him when he's working. They were just here yesterday, so won't be back until tomorrow.

"They also offer a laundry service, which we do use, cuz clay and paint on his clothes," Jordy chuckled, and Luc was happy to hear the camaraderie forming with Cleo. "He gets delivered groceries twice a week, but he can put in special orders anytime. And I use food delivery services when I know he's not gonna be cooking, which is pretty much whenever he starts a new piece.

"Fitzgerald handles his security, but you already knew that. It's a custom setup, cuz it alerts Luc when anyone shows up and he can run everything by voice and from his phone. There're six guards on-site, two at the gate and four on patrol twenty-four hours."

Luc heard Cleo tapping away on some device. "I probably won't be any good at keeping up with daily household stuff unless I hire someone. Since it's already handled, I won't bother."

Luc got back to his clay as they continued to go over his needs. He thought fleetingly that he probably should pay at least a little attention, but he trusted them both to have his best interests at heart. Naive, perhaps, but he had no reason to doubt the two people behind him.

***

Hunter pulled his buzzing phone from his pocket and silenced it again, glad he put it on vibrate already. Whoever was stalker calling him would have to wait.

Archie was losing his shit, and Fitz wasn't having it.

"That bitch owes me!" Archie raged, held back by two Fitzgerald guards.

"She owes you jackshit!" Fitz snarled back, barely keeping himself behind the desk.

He was on his feet, fists braced on the pile of papers that threw the other man into a frothing mad fit.

"Two hundred grand a year is enough to live a good life, ya selfish fuck," Fitz went on, "and way more'n I would 'a done."

"The company is mine!" Archie screamed, actually frothing this time.

"There'd be no company if Mama hadn't put her money and her mind to it," Fitz reminded him. "She was CEO. She implemented all the upgrades and changes that brought it back from bankruptcy you put it in, and she owned the majority stock, which is now mine. Now get. Out. Of my fuckin' house."

The guards lifted a cussing and snarling Archie and carried him away.

Fitz slumped over the desk and put his head in his hands. "Jesus fuckin' Christ," he muttered.

"You handled him better than I expected," Laura said quietly. She stepped to his side and put a hand on his shoulder. "You did your best, but Archie has a way of getting under your skin. It's probably the only talent he can lay claim to."

Fitz drew a deep breath and sat back in the chair. His amber eyes sought and found Hunter, silently pleading.

"So, I think we're done for the day." Hunter stepped up to Jay, offering a hand.

"Of course," Jay didn't miss a beat. "I'll get everything in place for you, Kai. As executor of your mother's estate, you'll be busy for the next few months."

"I gotta get back to work," Fitz growled. "Mama'd never saddle me with the company. She knew how much I love my work."

"Of course, and provisions are in place," Jay assured him. "However, you will be expected to take an overseeing role, at least until you decide whether or not you want to do more."

"I'll be happy to assist in whatever capacity you require, Mr. Fitzgerald," Laura offered suggestively, and Hunter had to smile in sympathy.

Flirting at a time like this was tasteless, but Hunter could understand. Fitz was hot. And now that Ms. Talbot was no longer employed by Roz, she might feel free to slide in to "help" Fitz grieve. Did this chick not know Mama Roz's dedication to LGBT causes stemmed from her unconditional love for her very out and comfortably gay son?

"Good. Great," Fitz sighed, as oblivious to Laura's interest as only a gay man could be. "I gotta... I need some time. "

"Certainly," Laura gave his broad shoulder a lingering pat. "We'll see ourselves out. Call me anytime."

Hunter nodded to everyone as they filed out, leaving him with Fitz. He immediately went to the large globe in one corner. Popping it open to reveal the hidden minibar inside, he grabbed the rum and two shot glasses, bringing them back to the desk.

His phone started buzzing again while he poured. With a muttered curse he snatched it out of his pocket and glared at it.

"Shit," he whispered, answering quickly. "Carlisle."

Fitz stopped with the shot glass on his bottom lip, eyes riveted on him. He and Hunter only answered FWPD dispatch like that.

"Where?" Hunter grabbed a pen and Fitz slid a notepad over to him. He quickly scribbled down the information. "Okay, yeah. I'll be there in a bit."

"So, where we goin'?" Fitz asked when he ended the call.

"Fitz, you just buried Mama yesterday."

"She knew damn well how much I hate bein' off work. So?"

"They found a body."

"And?"

"Right where Lucien St. John said they would."

***

The junkyard was on the lonely strip of highway between Fort Worth and Waco. It was set back from the road but surrounded by a rusting, sagging chain link fence.

The body was stuffed into the hatchback trunk of a decrepit Geo Metro, exactly as Lucien described it.

"Fuck, that's rank," Fitz coughed as they approached the final resting place of the unfortunate soul entombed within.

Inside, Hunter saw the body, splayed without any ceremony with empty sockets where the eyes should be.

"You try being fresh 'n clean when you're dead 'n bloated," Dr. Meredith Chase, the local medical examiner quipped, remarkably cheerful, considering his job.  His sunny demeanor earned him the nickname Merry. "Welcome Detectives. Condolences on Mama Roz, Fitz."

"Yeah, thanks, Merry. You got cause'a death?"

"I'd presume the same as your other two," Merry sighed. "But I won't know for sure till I get him on the table."

"You figure out what was used to get the eyes out, yet?" Hunter asked. A chill swept through him as Merry's assistants went to work getting the poor man out of the car.

"Something surgical is all I can say," Merry frowned at his assistants laying the body out on a waiting bag. "Precise. And sharp. No ragged edges. The cuts are smooth and clean, considering. He's getting my undivided attention today. I'll take some samples and send 'em on to the lab ASAP."

"Any ID?" Fitz asked, stepping back so Merry could check the man's pockets.

"Wallet."

Merry held it up and Fitz snapped gloves on to take it. Hunter popped open an evidence bag while they flipped through it.

"Richard Hale," Hunter read the driver's license. He snapped a picture of it and sent it to the case file. "We'll get looking for next of kin. Let us know, Merry."

As they walked back to their car, Hunter shook his head. "There's two more, according to St. John. Plus the woman he just took."

"We gotta talk to 'im," Fitz told him. "I know you hate it, but we gotta confirm where he was when that poor bastard got put in that trunk."

"I do hate it," Hunter agreed. "But better us than some hick that wants to toss him in jail for shits and giggles."

"Welp," Fitz sighed, "let's get 'r' done."

***

Cleo and Jordy hit it off so well that they both stayed for dinner.

Luc put on some music -true oldies this time- while they decided what to order.

Jordy laughed when Cleo tried twice to ask Luc what he wanted. "He never cares when he's working on a piece, as long as it's good food."

Jordy went on to show her the top places Luc seemed to like, while Luc immersed himself in the sculpture and the music. He was dancing around the studio to Wilson Pickett, munching on a shrimp spring roll when Security called.

Luc used a remote to turn the music down while Jordy answered the intercom.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Detectives Carlisle and Fitzgerald," the guard replied, "from Fort Worth PD for Mr. St. John."

"The fuck?" Cleo cried.

"Send them on," Luc said.

"Why?" Jordy was incensed. "He said he wouldn't arrest you!"

"And he has not, yet," Luc pointed out. "Refusing to see them will not work in my favor."

"I need to be advised on this issue," Cleo demanded. "Like right now."

"Come with me, Cleo," Luc started toward his room. "Jordy, let them through."

Cleo held her peace until she shut the door to his bedroom. He headed straight for the closet.

"The fuck, Luc?" She didn't follow him into the closet, but she did come to the door.

"It's Royce," he explained, "and, I presume, Horatio. They don't know who I am, but they will know you. Which means you should stay out of sight for now."

"You were serious about the background check? The hell did you do, Luc?"

"I have dreams," he tried to explain quickly while he yanked on a light long-sleeve tunic that fell to his thighs over the lounge pants. He quickly checked to make sure the high collar covered his neck. "Of terrible things. Sometimes they happen. Often. Lately, I have been dreaming of the killer taking people's eyes. I told Detective Carlisle, who you know as Royce, where to find three bodies."

"What. The. Fuck."

"Yes," Luc sighed, running his fingers through his hair, hastily arranging it over his ears. "The last time I told police about my dreams I was arrested and charged with murder. Pru and Jordy never recovered. Frankly, neither did I really, but I had to do something. I couldn't keep watching people die."

"Okay. I got a million questions," Cleo said calmly, "but they'll keep. You will not let them arrest you, understand?"

"Cleo..." He grabbed a pair of gloves and slid them on. They were fingerless, but they would have to do. He didn't have time to coordinate.

"I'll get a lawyer here in ten minutes, and-"

"No, you will not."

Cleo stopped in her tracks. He used his Dom voice, something he never did with her, but Luc needed her focused and calm.

"I will face them, and I will deal with this." Luc reverted to his normal speaking voice. His respect for Cleo as a Domme was too great to order her about like an eager sub. "You can help me by making sure the recording equipment in the office picks up everything. Please."

She went without another word, and Luc took several deep, slow breaths before he left the room.