chemistry

It had taken me hours to find him; this wasn't one of his usual haunts, we were way out of town there, a dark little Vodka bar south of the city, somewhere new. Would never have found him if his car didn't stick out like a sore thumb in this part of town. He was sitting at the bar, double bourbon shots and fizzy lager and he wasn't surprised to see me, like he knew I'd be scouring town for him - that I'd find him eventually. I'll always find him, but maybe that night he was testing me.

Wouldn't blame him. He'd been distant since Clarence turned up and the whole story of that New York nightmare came out. I already knew the answer to my question, I just wanted him to confirm it. His eyes followed me as I leaned against the bar, pulled up a stool and ordered a dark beer. They had the best; I liked the place already. One elbow on the stained, sticky wood, I locked eyes with my partner and shared one of those intense looks which always ended up as a contest of attrition. I won this time around, Sonny glancing away into the murky shallow depths of his bourbon.

That day had been a rollercoaster ride, one on old flaky rails with rusted bolts and loose wheels. I was woken by the news that my partner had been in the middle of a three-hundred rounds per second firefight in a nightclub the previous night. Worst part was I couldn't call him, couldn't meet him - he was deep undercover - and although he was sporting a bullet wound that had cracked a rib and narrowly missed his left lung he was still workin' the case. Then I found out Clarence was behind the firefight. And I went to find him.

He nodded slowly, tipping back the dark liquid, and I waited for the inevitable. "When it went down in New York… you didn't cover for him."

"No." He opened his mouth but I beat him to it. "Don't think I don't feel guilty enough, Sonny. That's why I flew to New York yesterday…."

I nodded. Course he didn't know, he was too busy playing the game and ducking a thousand flying bullets, some fired by a guy who used to be to me what Sonny is now. No - that's not right. Clarence was never what Sonny was to me then, or is to me now.

"I went up to talk to the guy who was at the numbers bust. There was a gun, he hid it. Clarence was right and I didn't believe him, didn't stand up for him. So I've done the guilt thing, Sonny, you don't have to worry about that."

Sonny rolled the empty shot glass between his hands. "I don't care if you feel guilty or not, Partner." He paused, pushed the glass away and reached for his beer. "Remember Hank Waldon?" I will never forget Hank Waldon, and I knew where this was going. "His partner didn't just lie for him, Rico. He covered up a murder, bricked a dead man up in a wall and kept a secret for ten years."

"I'd do the same for you, man. You're not Clarence." I meant it. He swallowed half his lager and an inappropriate line about bubbles going up his nose popped to mind, I pushed it away.

"You're wrong. Not only would I lie for you, I would die for you." I watched his expression change, eyes glass over and I knew I'd stepped into that intense territory that was between us where most people's personal space was. I dropped my voice. "I love you, Sonny, you know that. You're everythin' man; my partner, my friend… my conscience and my soul."

Sonny pressed his fingers into his temple, gave his forehead a firm massage, turned to look at me sideways. I swear there were tears in his eyes but it was dark in there. Could have been the lights. He finished his pint in one gulp and I took that as a cue and finished my own. We were outta there.

Without a word I followed the Snow White hide of the Ferrari back to my place, stowed it and jumped into Sonny's sports car. We drove around for a while, not talking - like we'd done enough of that. At least I had. The mix of painkillers and alcohol in his system didn't seem to be affecting his driving, but I wasn't unhappy when he finally pulled into Burnett's parking space at the marina and killed that sometimes purring, sometimes roaring engine.

He didn't get out of the car though. Sat staring out through the windshield although I knew he wasn't studying the wall we were parked in front of. I waited, knowing whatever it was would come soon enough. And it did. But not in words. He raised his right hand, palm out to me like he'd done in the past, and like I'd done in the past, I pressed my palm to his, fingers laid along his own. It meant we were okay, everything was back in balance. Until he tipped it, slipped his fingers sideways and threaded them between mine.

I did the same, holding on, the question creasing my face. It was a while before he said, "The feelings are mutual, Rico."

The heat's balmy in Miami, makes New York feel like the Arctic. And being around Sonny always notches the temperature up a couple of degrees.

I don't think I'll ever know how emotionally we moved from that moment in the car to the night spent in each other's arms on the boat. Physically it was easy; a touch to my arm as he locked up, hand at the small of my back as we strolled the boardwalk to the St Vitus' mooring, fingers curling around my shoulder as I turned to face him on the deck.

I wasn't about to back up when he kissed me, I felt like I'd been waiting years for him to do it. What few lines had been drawn between us were blown away. I got my hands under his jacket, he pulled my shirt from my pants. I felt him, hot and hard, pushin' against me, and I pushed right back, never breaking the lip lock, sucking his tongue into my mouth and scraping my teeth over it, swallowing the vibrations of a heated groan.

The whole scene was as intense as everything else he does but to say I was swept off my feet by him would be a lie. I was right along there with him, meeting him touch for touch, sound for sound, taking his clothes off him as fast as he was stripping me. We made it below deck, almost going head first down the wooden steps into the gallery, knocking a glass from the table, fallin' into the wide berth at the bow of the boat, naked as the days we were born - except for the white gauze taped to Sonny's shoulder - hands and mouths all over each other.

Later, we lay face to face, fingers linked like we'd done in the car, rebalancing 'us' - our friendship and partnership - in a different place, at a different level. We were okay, we just knew a hell of a lot more about each other and that can't be a bad thing.

I smiled, lifted my head and kissed him. "This is the first time I ever made out with my partner, Sonny."

So that's where we were. That was just fine with me. I told him so. He kissed my knuckles and closed his eyes, not letting go of my hand. The rollercoaster finally slowed to a stop and as usual I stayed on it; life dull would life be if I ever got off?