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solidly connected punch. Bluish circles under both indicated a
sleepless night. "You go ahead and guess how I'm doing."
Reminding himself that it could have been worse, Nate
walked over to Caesar and bumped his shoulder with one fist.
"They treat you okay? Room alright?"
"You mean other than I spent nine hours in the ER waiting
to be seen before I even got here." Caesar swung his legs off
the edge and groaned. "That was like four this morning, it's
mediodía now. For ten hours I've tried to sleep, but they keep
busting in and waking me up. So I gave up and tried to watch
TV, but the signal's crap. I'd say I've been better."
"Well, paperwork's supposedly done." Nate held out his
hand to help Caesar off the bed. "You are now under police
protection ... that means me." Hissing as he slid off the edge,
Caesar ignored Nate's offer. "Okay, let's run by your place
and you can pick up some stuff. Then you're coming with
me."
"Where?"
"Don't know yet. But that's not something you need to
worry about."
"Where's Ponchito?"
"He's fine, sucking up to Carol in Burbank. I'm going to go
find a nurse and we'll get you out of here."
Sergeant Robinson shouldn't have worried about delaying
things. It took Nate almost twenty minutes to track down a
nurse and another hour and a half before a doctor arrived to
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sign Caesar out. While Nate secured his release, Caesar
napped. He continued to doze fitfully during the drive to his
home. Nate let Caesar sleep in the passenger seat of the
Taurus as he slipped into Caesar's house and collected what
the man might need. It felt odd to Nate to be in another
person's house, rushing and ransacking through their stuff.
He wondered if Caesar felt like this when he was robbing
homes.
A gym bag, shorts, t-shirts, underwear and toiletries, Nate
tried to get a good week's worth. He also snagged a button
down shirt and slacks out of the closet. Caesar would need
clothes to testify in. Then Nate locked the house up and
headed back to the car. Chucking Caesar's stuff next to his
war-bag before climbing into the car, he realized Caesar had
barely moved. The guy had to be just dead on his feet. Nate
didn't even play the radio on the drive up to Chatsworth.
Caesar needed the rest.
When they finally reached Nate's place, it took a few
shakes to rouse the man. "Come on." Nate smiled and tried to
look reassuring. "You can go back to bed inside. More
comfortable there." Every move Caesar made as he followed
Nate into the apartment was stiff. Nate figured he was sore as
all get out on top of being exhausted. He headed for the
bedroom straight off. Nate would get Caesar settled before
dealing with everything else.
There was too much to plan. Nate had no clue what to do
next. He'd never had an assignment that came close to this.
Usually someone higher up the chain made decisions where to
stash witnesses and the like. For the moment, his apartment
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was the best he could think of. Right now his thoughts spun
off in a thousand different directions ... mostly in the, "What
next?" line. A stop at home where he could be quiet and
concentrate should be okay. There would be lag time before
word got out about Caesar's release. By then they'd be
somewhere else.
Caesar limped through the house and into the bedroom
behind Nate. "What the hell is that a picture of?"
Nate turned. "John Constantine." Framed in the doorway,
Caesar stared at the poster like he thought it might come off
the wall and bite him. Nate took a second look at the picture
above his bed. Really, it was one of the tamer ones. No
creatures spitting blood or possessing mortals. Returning his
gaze to his guest, he shrugged. "Hellblazer."
Those dark eyes slid to his own. "Who?" Putting an
exaggerated amount of distance between them, Caesar
moved around Nate and toward the bed. A hiss slid between
his lips as he settled on the edge.
Poor guy, Nate had taken some beatings when he played
football in high school. Caesar looked like he'd been playing
football without the padding. Probably hurt in all sorts of
places, places you never thought you could hurt. "It's from
the series Hellblazer." Nate waved toward the poster as he
sat down next to Caesar. "John Constantine is the main
character. He's this really fucked up guy who fights demons
... started out in Swamp Thing."
Slowly, Caesar dropped back on top of the covers. Another
hiss and Caesar closed his eyes. Pain ate across his face.
Voice tight, he asked, "Wasn't Swamp Thing a comic book?"
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"Want me to get you some more painkillers now?" When
Caesar shook his head no, Nate went back to the other topic.
"So's Hellblazer."
One eye cracked open. "You read comics?"
"Well, they're not like for kids or anything."
"You read comics?" Caesar snorted. "Wait, wait, you don't
just read comics, you have a fucking comic poster on your
wall." His voice teased. "Did I miss something? Are you
fifteen and hide it well?"
"Fuck off." Nate threw a punch toward Caesar's shoulder,
pulling back at the last minute so that it just bumped him.
"You watch those crappy Mexican soaps, don't you start in on
my tastes in entertainment."
"Hey!" Caesar grabbed his wrist and jerked.
"What's that one you were watching at the hospital?" Nate
pretended to fall, catching himself inches above Caesar's
prone form. His hands were on either side of Caesar's chest,
holding him up. Pelvis snug against Caesar's hip, he stared
down. Both of those deep, dark eyes were open now. Teasing
Caesar back with his tone, he added, "The one about the four
sisters who share everything, including their boyfriends,
because nobody can tell them apart. Hell, the actresses don't
even look like each other."
"Las Vidas de Hermanas Gemelas." Caesar smiled, pain
seemingly forgotten. His eyes narrowed. "Wait how do you
know that plot?"
He was busted. "There's this old lady that lives on the
corner of Fig." Nate laughed. "We used to get calls all the
time that someone was breaking in or some shit. What it
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really was is she doesn't have anyone anymore. So if I've got
some time, I drop by there, visit with her. That way she
doesn't have to call. She watches all those weird ass shows.
She tells me all about them like they're real people."
Caesar sighed. The sound was somewhere between
drugged and contented. Or maybe it was contented because
he was drugged. "You know, you shouldn't be this close to
me."
"Why?" Even as fucked up as he was, Caesar was still
damn good looking. It had to be those big, dark eyes.
"God, 'cause I need to sleep." Caesar's finger traced Nate's
ribs through his shirt. "But you're making me think about all
kinds of things that have nothing to do with sleeping."
Nate leaned in. "Like this?" He whispered the question
against Caesar's lips.
"Oh yeah," Caesar's fingers drifted lower, teasing Nate's
belly, "like that."
"I think you'd," kissing again and again, Nate managed to
get all of it out, "fall asleep on me if we tried anything."
"Had a nap." Caesar's tongue traced patterns of heat
behind Nate's ear. "Could use some other types of relaxation
right now. Doctor says it's good for me."
Nate slid down next to Caesar on the bed. "You're so full of
shit." He smiled as he said it. He fought with Caesar's jeans,
"We'll keep it low key, okay?"
"Okay by me." Caesar's hands were engaged in a similar
battle with Nate's pants. Both came undone at almost the
same instant. Nate pulled Caesar against him while shoving
the man's pants down over that sexy ass. Caesar hadn't quite
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The Good Thief
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