Written for Shalott in the Yuletide 2006 Challenge

Many thanks to my beta Rez; who worked miracles on this story.

Note: This story probably makes a lot more sense if you're at least passingly familiar with the episode "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell". If you need to refresh your memory, Shalott has a great summary here.

**********

When Vinnie closed his eyes, he could still smell the prison on himself: stale sweat and cigarette smoke clinging to his hair, the stench of resignation and anger that permeated the place soaked into his skin. He wanted a shower and a meal, but more than that, he wanted to see Stan &ndash remind himself why those eighteen months in hell had been worth it.

It felt like throwing about a ton of weight off his shoulders, seeing the car pull up and Stan get out of it with that familiar smile on his face. God, how long had it been since he'd had the sight of someone he could actually trust to have his back? Not even McPike's sour mug showing up behind Stan could spoil it.

"Hey, Stan, how you doing? C'mere," he said, pulling Stan into a tight hug.

Stan kept a hand on his arm when he pulled back. "Thank God you're out. I've been worried about you," he said warmly.

The lie came easily now, those endless months of misery loosening their hold on him in the face of Stan's jovial cheer. "Ah, it was okay, I made it out. Set me up pretty good." He smiled, changing the topic. He wasn't going to be talking about the finer details of life in the joint with anybody any time soon, that was for damn sure. "So you still planning to retire?"

"Yeah, for me it's 'good-bye Jersey, hello Fort Lauderdale.' I'm gonna move down there with my kids. They got a guesthouse right on the coast there." Stan's face lit up when he talked about it, and Vinnie sure as hell couldn't begrudge him the happy retirement, even if he was gonna miss the old guy.

Stan reached out, patted his shoulder. "But I had to make sure you got out of jail with all your teeth before I hand you over to the OCB &ndash pass the ball on to you, I guess. You know, my whole life used to be devoted to nailing Dave Steelgrave to the wall, back in the old days, but he got whacked before we ever got anything on him. Sonny Steelgrave's the big man in the family now, and he's even smoother than his brother was. Now you got the chance to score that forty-foot jump shot I never could hit."

There was no bitterness in his voice, just a sort of contented pride that warmed Vinnie from the inside. Not even the news that Frank would be the one to handle him now could quite kill his mood.

**********

"You been sneaking around on me, Vinnie," Sonny said.

Vinnie didn't bang his head on the open hood of the car he was checking over, didn't even startle &ndash that was the first thing they taught you, undercover kindergarten: How to put on a poker face and bluff if you thought you were about to be made.

Didn't mean he wasn't grateful for the extra second it took to pull his head out from under the hood. Gave him time to stretch a grin over the blank face. "What, Sid think I'm trying to make off with your money again?"

It was a private joke between them by now, Sid's distrustful watch of Vinnie's every move. It would have been funnier if he'd really been the loyal friend Sonny saw, but as things were, Sid was right to be suspicious &ndash and Vinnie hadn't appreciated the humor in that for a long time.

But this time, Sonny wasn't smiling, either. He was leaning against the wall, all casual relaxation, but Vinnie knew him well enough not to believe it; there was that guarded look in his eyes, and his shoulders were too stiff against the cinderblock. Damn. This was serious.

"Poncetti says he saw you out on Atlantic Ave yesterday, behind the warehouses, talking to some guy. What's up with that, Vinnie?"

Jesus Christ. He'd had a bad feeling about meeting Frank there right from the start. The district around Atlantic Ave was pretty much deserted at night, but it was still a risk, especially after he'd pleaded a headache to excuse himself from a party Sonny had wanted him to come to. He should have listened to his instincts. How the hell was he supposed to explain this? Sonny probably thought he was doing deals off the record.

This wasn't the kind of business where you went around behind your boss's back, and Sonny wasn't the kind of guy who'd put up with it. And if he questioned Poncetti some more, got a description of the guy out of him... Hell, Frank's puppy-dog face was pretty memorable, and he'd been on TV speaking for the OCB a time or two. Problem was, there was nothing out there, nothing legit he could have been doing on a dirty industrial backstreet on a Friday night.

Except... Hell. It wasn't the kind of excuse he'd use if he had any other choice. It would probably be the end of the undercover stint, anyway, cost him the job and Sonny's trust. Probably wouldn't get him beaten up or killed, though, at least, unless he was totally misjudging Sonny.

He let himself take a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. Sonny knew from defensive when he looked at a man, and he knew fear best of all, so that's what Vinnie let him see. That part wasn't hard. "What d'you think I've been doing out there, Sonny? Only one thing to do, on Atlantic after dark. You know that as well as I do."

He gave his voice a little edge of aggression. Sonny was buying it hook, line and sinker; he was getting it but he didn't like it. Sonny got that certain look when he was ready to blow and Christ, why should Vinnie feel so sick, seeing it now? When had Sonny's approval become so goddamn important to him? It shouldn't matter &ndash he shouldn't ever have let it matter.

"The Barrage? You went to the damn Barrage? That's where you've been disappearing to all those times &ndash meeting men?"

All those times? Vinnie couldn't believe it. Friggin' hell. Probably all for the best if Sonny kicked him out for visiting gay bars, then. Beat being made for an FBI man any day of the week.

"The Barrage. The goddamn fucking Barrage," Sonny was repeating to himself. "And I thought &ndash hell, doesn't matter what I thought, I'm an asshole. Meeting men. Vinnie &ndash"

He took a step toward him, reaching out. Vinnie instinctively flinched back, bracing himself, but all Sonny did was put a hand on the back of his neck, the firm, familiar pressure more of a shock than a punch would have been. Sonny's grip was gentle, pressing a little on the tense muscles, and even through the confusion and dread, it still felt good. Comforting.

"Vinnie, you gotta promise me you won't go there again, okay?" Sonny said tightly, and then shook his head when Vinnie opened his mouth to protest - slipping into the act, knowing that if the excuse had been true, he wouldn't be so quick to give up the one place where he didn't have to pretend. You needed one place like that if you wanted to stay sane.

"No, hear me out," Sonny said. "I'm not telling you to stop with the men &ndash" And wasn't that not what he'd been expecting to hear. "-but the Barrage's a hellhole. Drug dealers, criminals, creeps &ndash you're gonna get hurt letting your guard down in a place like that. There's safer clubs. More discreet. I can show you."

"Show me." Vinnie repeated.

"If you want." Sonny said. "I could take you." His voice had gone quiet and a little unsure, with a hint of hesitation that Vinnie had never heard there before. Vinnie had no idea what to do. Jesus Christ. Sonny's hand was warm and gentle against his skin, stroking the side of Vinnie's neck with his thumb.

"Sonny-" he began, and then stopped. He had to think. Something cold and calculating in the back of his brain was asking, What's he gonna expect me to do, what can I get out of it, and is it worth the price?

Prison punk instinct. God, he'd thought he'd left that back in Newark. But then, as Karen had reminded him once, undercover work was a lot like whoring in its own way, wasn't it?

This was the best thing that could happen to his cover. It would clear up any stray doubts and get him even closer to Sonny. And it wasn't like he'd never thought about it, never looked at Sonny &ndash fucking gorgeous Sonny, the sheer bright spark of life in him &ndash and wanted something he couldn't have because a goddamn lie had become his entire life. He hadn't thought that Sonny, guy's guy and ladies' man that he was, would have wanted... And anyway, it was a bad. fucking. idea.

But now, with Sonny's offer in the air between them... he thought he could let himself have it, just this once. Wouldn't even matter in the end. How often had he seen Sonny with the same woman more than once or twice? And it wasn't like he could be any more compromised when it came to Sonny. He wasn't kidding himself, he was already in deeper than he should ever have let himself get.

Didn't matter. He'd kept on doing his job when the term in prison had gone to hell; he could keep doing it with Sonny's affection cutting him up inside.

He let himself go; just went with the light pressure of Sonny's hand on the back of his neck, down to his knees, suddenly completely calm and just a little removed from what was happening, enough to dull the reality of it. He leaned forward, reaching for Sonny's zipper &ndash and Sonny's hand on his neck tightened, shaking him gently.

"Vinnie, slow down, what, am I paying you by the hour?" Sonny said, pulling him up; and he was back in the here and now, grounded by that solid, familiar touch. Something inside him relaxed, a clench of fear or disgust he hadn't even noticed anymore, it had been there for so long. This was Sonny, not some asshole with a knife.

"No way you could afford me," he said, grinning, and the truth of it hit him hard: the days when his body was just another bargaining chip were over. This was his choice, his own goddamn bad decision to make: He was going to give Sonny up, when the time came, but he could let himself have this, just once.

He wasn't quite sure what the hell men even did with each other, outside of prison. Oh, sure, the mechanics he knew about, but all the rest &ndash did men kiss? Did they &ndash but of course Sonny was playing by no one's rules but his own. He pulled Vinnie close, one hand splayed firmly in the small of his back, the other one sliding around to cup Vinnie's cheek; holding him, gently, securely. Vinnie let his arms wrap around Sonny like they wanted to, let himself touch and kiss, hands slipping up under Sonny's shirt, feeling the muscles move under the skin.

Just this once.

Suddenly he was holding onto Sonny like a drowning man, kissing him with hard, passionate intensity. He'd never let himself imagine this, but somehow it still felt as intimately familiar as an age-old fantasy &ndash the smell of Sonny's cologne, Sonny's skin, Sonny's hands pulling him closer... they were starving for each other, Christ, shoving jackets down and shirts out of the way.

Vinnie's back hit the side of the limo with a hard jolt. Sonny was fumbling for the door handle, still kissing him. He finally got the door open and they fell through it together, banging heads and elbows and knees against the doorframe, cursing and laughing. Two full-grown men, and they ended up mock-wrestling for position like a couple of boys. It was Vinnie who finally ended up on the bottom, pinned between the backrest and Sonny's solid weight.

If he'd had a brain to think with, it might have reminded him of things he usually tried to forget, but it didn't; this was Sonny, and he'd stopped being afraid of Sonny long ago, foolishly, even knowing he should be.

Sonny was grinning down at him, a little too smug, so Vinnie arched his back, pressed up against him, wiping that expression right off his face until Sonny was panting and flushed, moving against him like he couldn't help himself.

In retrospect, they should have stripped before getting into the limo, because it was almost impossible in the cramped space. The barely managed to struggle out of their jackets somehow before they lost patience, straining against each other with their shirts rucked up and their pants shoved down. It was nothing like the way Vinnie imagined Sonny would be in bed with those elegant women he liked, all finesse and suave seduction.

Sonny was completely crazy for him, stroking his skin like he couldn't get enough of it, kissing him hungrily. Vinnie felt drunk with pleasure. He moaned, almost embarrassingly loudly, and Sonny paused for a moment, looking down at him with laughter and tenderness in his eyes. Goddammit.

This is the man I'm gonna betray to the FBI. The thought lanced through him with sudden, ice-cold clarity. He jerked away from it, burying his face against Sonny's neck, and held on until all coherent thought was gone.

**********

Afterwards they stretched out side by side on the floor of the limo, which was harder but at least a little roomier than the backseat, their heads pillowed on a balled-up jacket, and shared a cigar. Vinnie felt warm and heavy with satisfaction.

Sonny was humming to himself, some cheery Italian show tune Vinnie couldn't remember the words to. His free hand was splayed over Vinnie's hip, a strangely fitting possessive gesture. Over the last few months, Sonny had somehow gotten under his skin and struck roots there that Vinnie didn't think he'd ever be able to rip out completely. Letting Sonny have his body didn't seem like such a big deal anymore, when he'd already all but signed over his soul.

He fell asleep like that, pressed up against Sonny, and woke what had to be hours later, from the way his whole body was cramping up. Sonny was shaking his shoulder. "Vinnie? Come on, wake up, I don't wanna spend the whole night here."

"Mm," Vinnie mumbled. His head was pillowed on Sonny's shoulder, sleep was still beckoning him, and he wanted nothing more than to just stay like this, fall asleep again before all those aches and pains he could feel crowding in on the corners of his mind could really take hold. Sonny wouldn't take no for an answer, though, poking and prodding and finally just bodily rolling him half out of the limo, so Vinnie had to wake up fast to avoid being spilled onto the concrete floor of the garage.

"Come on, get up," Sonny said, pulling him to his feet and steadying him as he blinked into the bright overhead lights. "You go to bed, try not to stumble into any walls on the way. I'll be in the office. Paperwork stacks grow any more, they're gonna bury me in goddamn paragraphs."

Vinnie dragged himself up to the penthouse and collapsed in bed still half-dressed. The sheets were cold, and his king-size felt ridiculously huge for just one person. He curled in on himself, shivering a little. So. That had been it, then.

Would've been nice to spend the night with Sonny, at least, but he knew better than anyone that it didn't happen that way. He'd been still awake when Sonny got home often enough that it was like a tradition, almost. Sonny was usually keyed-up and playful after a good lay, wanted someone to talk him down before he could sleep. They'd share a beer, get in a few friendly insults, talk some business. Sometimes they fell asleep like that, leaning against each other on Vinnie's couch.

Vinnie drifted off to memories of Sonny's heavy weight pressed against him, his head resting on Vinnie's shoulder like a lover's.

**********

Someone was holding him down. Vinnie's reflexes woke up before he did, telling him to be still. There was a gun in his nightstand drawer &ndash if he moved quickly, with the element of surprise on his side, he might just be able to &ndash

"Vinnie? You finally awake?"

"Sonny?" Vinnie rolled over abruptly, dislodging the arm and leg Sonny had draped over him. Sonny, who had apparently sneaked back into his bed some time in the middle of the night. "I thought you were going to &ndash" Hell, he couldn't even remember what excuse Sonny had used to get away last night.

"What, do paperwork till nine in the morning? Yeah, thanks a bunch, Vinnie, I'd have shot myself. Bad enough I had to do that stuff last night, but Sid would have had my head."

"Oh," Vinnie said. "Yeah."

"So do I get a kiss or what?" Sonny said, leaning over him. Vinnie closed his eyes for just a second. God, he wasn't prepared for this &ndash he hadn't expected Sonny to want an encore, hadn't thought this was something he'd have to end himself. And then Sonny's mouth was on his, and he didn't have it in him to resist. He'd never thought he'd need to.

The second time was different. Sonny was in that amazing, playful, 'Hey, I got laid' mood that Vinnie had always loved, and he himself had apparently arrived at the point where he could just go with it, shove the knowledge of the ugly end away and let himself get caught up in Sonny's good mood.

It was... fun, nice, the way he wouldn't have expected it to be between men. Him and Sonny, they'd always brought out the five-year-old in each other. They were shoving and pulling at each other just to see what they could get away with, everything turned into a competition &ndash who was bigger, who could hold out longer, who got to be on top.

Vinnie couldn't really remember the last time he'd had this much fun, and that was maybe the strangest part: it should have been such a serious, monumental thing, sex with Sonny, when it was such a goddamn bad idea. Instead it was easy, natural, the two of them fitting together in this as well as they did in everything else.

**********

I'll break it off the first time he brings a woman home, Vinnie promised himself. It seemed like a good reason, the kind of thing Sonny would understand, a good way to end it without giving up the closeness he needed to do his job. And anyway, he wasn't the kind of guy who liked to share &ndash he thought he'd probably be pissed enough to make it easy.

It was good to have a deadline like that, to know how it was going to end, and that he didn't have to worry about it until then. Except it didn't happen. Oh, Sonny still flirted like he always had, making the cashier at the liquor store blush, lounging on the Rabid Rabbit's leather couch with a showgirl in his lap and two others at his side. But he always came home, sprawling in Vinnie's king-size with their perfume all over him and his hair a mess, grinning and half-drunk, letting Vinnie bite his neck and fuck him until he smelled of nothing but sex and sweat.

It took Vinnie almost a month to figure it out, but then it hit him hard &ndash Sonny was in this for the long haul. Somehow, he'd taken the loyalty he gave to his closest friends, and put it into this, let Vinnie have his body as completely as he'd given his friendship.

This was the point where he should have the guts to end it, Vinnie thought, shame crawling up his spine like a snake. Instead, he got stupidly drunk and let Sonny fuck him on the couch in the penthouse, the glittering lights of the city spread underneath him, hanging on to Sonny's shoulders so hard he left bruises.

They were both almost too drunk for this, awkward and fumbling, and at one point they suddenly started laughing, simultaneously and for no reason at all, shaking so hard they had to stop or fall off the couch. Vinnie wrapped his arms and legs around Sonny and hung on, and when Sonny started moving again, he swore he could still feel the last shocks of laughter thrum through him everywhere they touched, like nothing he'd ever felt before.

It would kill him to give this up, he realized with the sudden crystal clarity of someone too drunk to keep fooling himself; some vital part of him would just shrivel up and die, and he didn't know how he'd go on without it.

He didn't end it that night, or the one after that; didn't end it with Joey Romanowski's mutely accusing eyes a harrowing reminder of who &ndash what &ndash he was fucking. In fact, it wasn't him who ended it at all.

**********

You'd think the mob would know how to throw a party to remember, Vinnie thought, but no, one of the most important social events of the year was being held in a room about as glamorous as a high-school auditorium. It was boring, too. Should have been a fed's wet dream, what with every capo from the whole east coast here tonight, but apparently there was some kind of unspoken rule against talking business of any kind at St. Genesius's annual benefit. Over by the wall, Mahoney and Simoni were bragging about their nieces; Patrice and Joey Bags were arguing sports; a bunch of accountants were clustered around a long table, bitching about their wives.

The most interesting thing in the room was Sonny, flirting with a girl over by the buffet. They seemed comfortable together, familiar, Sonny standing just a little too close and her leaning right back into him, feeding him an olive with her fingers.

She was pretty enough, although not the glamorous type Sonny usually went for, and apparently she'd known Sonny for long enough to know him pretty damn well &ndash she seemed to be looking right through his slick line of bull, even when she obviously couldn't help being charmed anyway. Sonny tended to have that effect on people.

Vinnie kind of liked watching Sonny flirt &ndash he was, hell, adorable, and by now, he knew he had no cause for jealousy. In all the ways that counted, Sonny was his. He watched with a smile as Sonny stole a rose from a centerpiece and handed it to her with a formal little bow. When he turned to leave, she was still for a moment, smelling the rose with a wistful expression on her face. Vinnie could guess how she felt: Sonny was like the pull of gravity. You couldn't resist.

He smiled at Sonny as he sat down next to him. "Nice looking girl," he said.

"Yeah, she's terrific," Sonny said, still looking at her, his back to Vinnie. "Think I'll marry her."

It felt like a punch out of nowhere. Vinnie felt his face freeze. "What, you kidding me?"

Sonny turned to look at him, raising his eyebrows. "What, you got a problem with that?"

"No," Vinnie said, but he was off his game. He wasn't surprised when his bad joke pissed Sonny off. Smooth he might be, but Sonny was a gentleman at heart. Vinnie had never known him to treat a woman with anything but respect.

Maybe he should have seen this coming or at least should have seen something coming. Sonny had been weird as hell the past couple days &ndash incredibly intense in bed, rough, even, clutching at him, leaving marks his collar barely covered; and otherwise distant, almost cold.

When Sonny had told him to stage a fight, he'd thought they'd pick some minor thing and blow it out of proportion for the audience. He wouldn't have believed Sonny capable of using Vinnie's helpless anger at Sonny goddamn breaking up with him &ndash in public; out of the blue. What the hell. He couldn't do much more than sit there and stare as Sonny stood up and shamed him with everyone watching. When he finally walked out, he couldn't help it; he turned and looked back at Sonny, struggling to process what the hell had just happened.

Sitting next to Sonny at the dinner table was hell. He picked at his food and tried to ignore him smiling at Theresa whenever her father turned his back. By the time the dancing started, he'd given up, letting himself watch them move together with a sick twist of rage in his stomach.

He barely slept that night, tossing and turning in bed, torn between anger and disbelief &ndash it wasn't like Sonny to behave like that. He tried to work up a decent fatalism. It would have ended ugly anyway, he told himself. He should be grateful it wasn't him who'd have to make it final.

His nerves were shot by next morning; he went into Sonny's office feeling like a giant sore, like the whole world was rubbing him raw. He hid behind a newspaper and watched Sonny talk to Sid about security without saying a word, unsure what would come out if he opened his mouth.

It didn't help that he was supposed to pick a fight. When Sonny finally addressed him, his answering snarl didn't need any kind of acting talent, especially when Sonny told him Aldo would be covering security at the wedding. That wasn't part of the deal. What, had Sonny just stopped trusting him completely? Now that he wasn't fucking him anymore, Vinnie was suddenly only good as a driver?

He was disgusted with himself. He felt cheated? Let down? He'd never had any right to Sonny's friendship in the first place, not when he'd built that friendship on lies and bad intentions, but damn it, Sonny didn't know that, so what the hell was he doing this for, pushing Vinnie away like this?

**********

At least the damn plan worked out. No surprise there &ndash at this point, even Vinnie believed that they were fighting, so it wasn't exactly a big deal to make Sid believe it, too. Patrice met him at the bar that afternoon, and Vinnie almost killed himself trying not to laugh out loud at The Cat waxing lyrical about being trapped in bad weddings. Thanks a lot, but I think I was just divorced anyway, he thought sarcastically.

His day just got worse after that &ndash Frank, and that idiot Aldo... and all that on top of the knowledge that this was it, the end was coming fast. The way he felt right now, it didn't seem quite so horrible anymore. Right now, all he wanted was to get out, get away from every stupid feeling he'd ever had for Sonny; falling for the bad guy like some star-struck girl, how pathetic could he get?

Right up until the next day, when he saw Patrice again, and The Cat looked him in the face and told him he was going to hit Sonny. And then suddenly it didn't even seem to matter anymore that Sonny was going to marry a girl he'd never so much as mentioned before, or that Sonny had broken up with him in the sleaziest possible way, without a word of explanation, or an apology; anger and betrayal completely drowned out by sudden, icy fear.

Sonny was good, maybe the best of them all when it came to business. But Patrice was ice in a three-piece suit. Vinnie really didn't want to know what would happen when the two of them got serious about killing each other.

It took everything he had not to run straight back to Sonny with the news. He reported to Frank instead, and had to pull himself together hard so he wouldn't fly off the handle at Frank's goddamn shit-for-brains plan. It was an insane risk &ndash trusting Pat to be telling it straight, Scullisi to stick to the schedule, the cops making it in time... Too many variables, and he had a bad feeling about every single one of them.

He'd be there, he told himself, trying to calm down. He'd plant the guns, but he was going to keep both eyes on Pat and Scullisi, and if anything went wrong, he'd do whatever it took.

**********

"I don't want you at the wedding," Sonny said.

"What?" Vinnie said.

Sonny didn't even blink. His voice was perfectly calm, like this was an entirely reasonable decision to make. "Come on, Vinnie &ndash you're a smart boy, don't tell me I have to explain to you why it would be awkward to have you at my wedding."

"Sonny &ndash" Vinnie began, and then stopped, helplessly. He couldn't think of a single way to phrase his protest that wouldn't make him sound like a jealous lover with a lost cause. Hell, in other circumstances, he'd have been more than happy to stay away. It wasn't like Sonny to cut him out of his life so completely just because he had Theresa now, and it was a goddamn understatement to say the decision surprised him, but he'd have been glad to take any excuse not to have to watch Sonny marry that woman.

But God, he needed to be at that wedding. No way in hell was he trusting Sonny's life to a bunch of coincidences.

"What, afraid I'm gonna make a scene?" he asked, trying for the right mix of sarcastic and conciliatory. "Listen, Sonny, it's okay, I get it &ndash you gotta have a girl, you like Theresa, you're not gonna have me on the side. That's fine. But for God's sake, Sonny, that doesn't mean you have to cut me out like this! We're still friends, right?" Okay, that had come out a little more desperate than was good.

At least something got through to Sonny. He'd closed his eyes and was pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a headache. He looked uncomfortable. Got him, Vinnie thought, but then Sonny's expression hardened.

"No," he said, and when Vinnie opened his mouth, "No! Vinnie, don't argue with me on this. There's a contact in Detroit, he's been trying to renegotiate the terms of our agreement for a while now. I want you to go talk to him, find out what he wants &ndash if it's halfway reasonable, give it to him. Tell Susan to book you a flight for early tomorrow morning. I don't want to see you at the party."

Jesus Christ. He couldn't trust Scullisi to stick to the schedule, the man was a goddamn weasel &ndash and he didn't trust Daryl, either, when it came down to it. He wasn't going to let Sonny walk into the slaughterhouse alone. He just fucking well could not.

"Patrice is gonna try to burn you at the party," he said, knowing all the ways this could go wrong, but hell if he could come up with anything better.

Sonny's eyes went wide, but not with shock, exactly. He looked a little surprised, even more relieved.

"Yeah, I know," Sonny said, and now it was Vinnie's turn to stare. Shit. So that was it; Sonny thought Vinnie had run over to Patrice, was conspiring to have him put down &ndash and his response was to send Vinnie to Detroit?

Hell. Oh, hell. Vinnie had never felt more like a lying piece of shit in his entire life. I feel like a puttana, he'd told his mother, but this was worse, selling out a man who loved him like that.

"Scullisi's supposed to shoot you at seven," he said quietly. At least he could give Sonny that much, let him have the information he needed to stay alive.

"Yeah. I'm going to deal with Patrice and Scullisi at the banquet. You go to Detroit, don't worry about me," Sonny said, smiling a little.

Vinnie's stomach clenched in horror. Christ, the camera &ndash Sonny killed Patrice there, it would be all the evidence a jury would need to &ndash "No!" he said sharply. "Sonny, don't do anything stupid at that party. There's &ndash the OCB is gonna be watching."

Oh God. Oh God. This was &ndash Frank was going to kill him. Frank can bite me, he told himself. He'd been prepared to give up the best friend he'd ever had, to hand Sonny over to the FBI and walk away; but he wasn't going to let Sonny die, and if that's what it took, he'd blow his cover sky high.

Anyway, this was, he could find an explanation that &ndash and then he saw Sonny's face, and knew it was already too late. "You're a fed?" Sonny said, eyes going wide.

Vinnie opened his mouth, but Sonny shook his head, talking over him. "We don't have anyone in the OCB on the payroll. I've tried, hell, I've been waving money at those guys for years, they're like fucking virgins, for godssake, pure as the driven snow. How the hell else would you have known, can you explain that to me, Vinnie?"

"I &ndash" Vinnie said, trying to think of something, anything. He probably could have come up with some excuse if he'd had time to think about it; but right then the window for a believable lie was narrow, and closing fast &ndash and then it was gone. He lowered his head, suddenly unable to look at Sonny, waiting for the sound of a weapon being cocked.

It didn't come. There was a heavy thud that he suspected was Sonny punching the wall. When he looked up, Sonny was braced against it with one hand, shaking his head. "A fed. He's a goddamned fed," he repeated, his shoulders beginning to tremble &ndash and then he started laughing, sliding down the wall until he was practically lying on the floor.

"Sonny-" Vinnie said, taking a hesitant step closer, prepared to bolt if Sonny suddenly pulled a gun on him or anything, but starting to worry. But Sonny was already picking himself off the floor, still laughing but obviously trying to get a grip. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, looked at Vinnie, and went off again.

He stopped, finally, but no way was he back to normal. He was hyped up and bobbing on the balls of his feet. He grabbed Vinnie's hand and towed him out the door. "Come on, Vinnie," he said, his voice still rich with amusement. "Wanna show you something."

Vinnie let himself be dragged, stumbling, behind crazy Sonny. "Sonny? Sonny! Hey, where we going?"

Sonny snickered. "That's a surprise," he said. "Oh, that's gonna be one hell of a surprise. I love it."

Something icy trickled down Vinnie's spine. He felt unsteady, off-balance, like the whole world had been pulled out from under him like a shabby carpet. Sonny was moving ahead with manic energy, grinning so hard it might just split his face in two, showing off his sharp white teeth. It wasn't exactly a comforting expression.

Sonny shoved him cheerfully into the limo's passenger seat. His behavior seemed totally wrong for someone who was planning to shoot him and dump him by the side of the road, but it wasn't exactly the way a man would act who'd found out that his most trusted friend had been lying to him from the day they'd met, either. Vinnie didn't know what to expect anymore.

He leaned back in his seat, suddenly exhausted; closed his eyes for a moment, jerked them open again when he found that being blind made the unsettling feeling of being lost in the wilds without a map even worse. This was their limo, he noticed, the one they'd fucked in for the first time. Wouldn't it be just perfect if Sonny dumped his corpse into the trunk of this particular car.

Sonny wasn't leaving the city, though, didn't even seem to be going for any of the deserted industrial areas; they were heading downtown, towards the financial district. Not exactly the place of choice for a stealthy murder.

Sonny was still randomly cracking up in the driver's seat, short bursts of laughter as if whatever he found so goddamn funny hit him all over again. He was jittering in the seat, foot hard on the gas &ndash not quite enough to get them pulled over for speeding, but making it plenty obvious how much he wanted to get to wherever the hell they were going.

"Wherever" turned out to be a small, independent bank downtown, one Vinnie couldn't remember ever visiting before. Sonny jerked the car into a parking space about two feet too short for it, leaving the rear sticking out into the street, obviously not caring in the least that he was blocking half the lane behind him.

"Hurry up, Vinnie," he said impatiently, standing next to the car with one foot hammering an uneven staccato beat on the asphalt while Vinnie peeled himself out of his seat. As soon as he was out, Sonny put one hand on the small of his back, not so much steering as shoving him along.

The bank was already dark and deserted, but Sonny had a card that he pulled through a slot next to the door, too impatiently; it took him three tries to get it open, and then he shoved the door so hard it nearly hit the wall.

The small anteroom was lit by a bare bulb. There were rows of identical lockers along one wall. Sonny walked over to one in particular without hesitation; he'd obviously been here before, more than once. Sonny punched a combination into the security pad and opened the locker door, pulling a small box from inside. This one was secured with a lock, too, but it was flimsy enough Vinnie could have picked it in three seconds flat. He didn't need to, though &ndash Sonny shoved the box at him, together with his key ring, one small key already separated from the rest.

"What's in it?" Vinnie asked, shaking the box a little. It didn't rattle.

Sonny rolled his eyes. "It's not a goddamn birthday present, Vinnie. Just open it."

The lock slid open smoothly, as if it had been opened recently &ndash another hint that, whatever Sonny had hidden here, he came out to look at it at least occasionally.

Inside was a jumble of cards and IDs: expired gym membership, discount card for a supermarket chain, membership card for an adult video store, library card. That membership for a private dining club he'd seen before. A whole life in cards. Everything in Sonny's name. Everything from DC.

Vinnie hands were shaking as he picked up the last card, the one at the very bottom. It was another ID. Sonny Steelgrave, it read. Department of Justice. Washington, DC. It looked real.

"I don't understand," he said finally. Somewhere in the back of his mind, an idea was taking root, some insane, crazy thing, tasting like hope on his tongue, like a light at the end of a grave.

"It's real, Vinnie," Sonny said, and he wasn't laughing now; he looked gravely, deadly serious.

Maybe the Justice Department's got you shacked up in this place so you can sing them sweet songs about the organization, Vinnie's own voice echoed in his head, words he'd said that night in the car, scared to death; but God, that was crazy &ndash he hadn't seriously considered it at the time, not for one second. It had just been a spur of the moment thing, a lame excuse he'd fished out of thin air, and he'd been surprised when Sonny had backed off his case.

"You're undercover?" Vinnie said. He'd been spying on an undercover operative? How could this even &ndash how the hell could he not have known? But then, he hadn't even known about Karen, either, and cooperation between the local police and the OCB, pitiful as it was, was still better than what passed for communication with the big boys in Washington. God, he'd known the exchange of information wasn't what it should be, but this?

But &ndash "You've been in the operation for four years, Sonny," he said. Worked his way up the ranks after he got back from Sicily &ndash only, if this was true, he'd never been to Sicily at all, had he? But... four years?

"And what a fun-filled time it's been, too," Sonny said quietly, a jarring, bone-deep weariness underneath his voice.

God. He couldn't even imagine. Vinnie had been in for no more than a few months, and already he could feel this life getting under his skin, creeping in, taking hold, changing him. But he, at least, had Pete, and his mother. His family. Sonny? His family was the mob.

"How -" he began, and the question must have been obvious: Sonny didn't even let him finish.

"My father went down years ago; think I was 20 at the time. Just disappeared one day. Dave took over the organization, led it for years &ndash God, I worshiped him, only family I had left, and I wasn't a kid anymore at the time, but he still looked after me, you know? But then he found out who'd iced Papa, years later, just some stupid coincidence, some guy blabbing to the wrong man at the wrong time. He went out, killed that guy." Sonny paused, looking away. His whole body was tight, unhappy, every jerky movement of his hands telegraphing that these weren't memories he like to dwell on.

"His name was Jacko Lagosta. We grew up in the same neighborhood. I knew his mother. Nice lady, aunt Angie. Used to make me pizzelle when I was a kid." He snorted bitterly. "She was heartbroken, of course. Didn't stop crying for weeks. Hit me hard, but back then, I figured &ndash it's the way of life, you know? Jacko, he was a made man, he knew what he was getting into." Sonny was quiet for a minute; and then he took a deep breath.

"Jacko's uncle and his boys, they killed Dave. Vendetta. That was it for me, then, wake-up call with a two-by-four, bam." Sonny mimed smacking himself in the forehead with the heel of his hand.

"I realized, this is gonna keep happening, you know? I'm gonna have to kill them and then some poor mama's boy is gonna have to kill me and we're just going to keep killing each other until no one's left but crying mothers. I was so goddamn angry at the time, you can't even imagine. What, we're gonna do the world a favor, wipe ourselves out? Fuck, no. So I was gonna get those bastards who'd killed Dave, but they were gonna live to enjoy it. No more easy way out.

"Took the train to California the next day, no goodbye kisses, no nothing. Signed up with the police department, got the training, felt like the worst kind of Judas every single day, busting kids just like me." Sonny shook his head, looking tired. "And that had nothing on coming back here and lying to every single person who'd ever meant anything to me, you know? Hell, of course you know. Your mother &ndash you only told her when she had to go to the hospital, didn't you?"

Sonny reached out, put his hand on the bare stretch of skin right above Vinnie's collar, warm and intimate. "Lying to you, that was the worst thing. You got too damn close. Almost thought you knew what was up, that day in the car. Scared the hell out of me."

"I had no idea," Vinnie said, shaking his head. "This is totally out of the blue for me. Hell, Sonny, you're the damned head of the Steelgrave empire! I never suspected you, of all people &ndash and how come an undercover guy ends up in your position, anyway? The things you had to do to get where you are &ndash" he saw Sonny flinch, and instantly wished he could take the words back, but since he couldn't, he went on &ndash"What were you trying to do?" He didn't ask: Was it worth it? He knew Sonny heard it anyway.

Sonny snorted. "What'd you think, Vinnie? I'm right up there with all the big fish. I've got something on every major player on the whole east coast. Every one of them. You don't get that kind of vig driving limos."

And, yeah, that was the Sonny he knew, playing high and winning higher, going in for the stakes no one else would touch and making it work.

"So what was the plan, then?" he asked, suddenly knowing there had to be one.

Sonny showed his teeth. "I go to the wedding wearing a vest. Scullisi shoots me, guys watch me bleed to death without raising a finger. My people bust in, we get them all on failure to render assistance &ndash yeah, don't laugh, you know how hard it is to get anyone on conspiracy charges. It's enough to hold them while we search their estates and find hard evidence for the stuff I know. You know how it is, Vinnie &ndash these guys are out and about, all it takes is one phone call and the whole goddamned evidence trail is just gone."

"And that's it?" Vinnie said, strangely disappointed. It wasn't a bad plan &ndash in fact, it was just simple and straightforward enough that it might work &ndash but somehow, it didn't quite seem to justify the insane effort Sonny had gone to. Four years.

"No &ndash that's not it," Sonny said. Vinnie knew this expression, the magician about to pull a rabbit out of the hat, ratcheting the tension up for the audience. "You're smart, Vinnie, you figure it out. Big case like this, it's not gonna go to court for months, and no way do I give up my cover until then."

And Vinnie got it, where this was going, the sheer insane scope of the thing. All those men in jail, or out on bail under observation, there'd be huge power shifts. There'd be empires crumbling. And Sonny would be there, the one who'd gotten away. The one who'd pick up the pieces.

The entire goddamn east cost mafia, in the hands of a guy working for the Justice Department. God, it was insane &ndash thinking up a plan like that, on a scale that massive, it had been madness to think it might work. But Christ and His mother, if it worked... they could break the back of the thing. Really take it down.

Something every cop who dealt with the mafia had to learn &ndash the everlasting, suffocating frustration of their job &ndash was that in the end, you were fighting windmills. Take down one capo, and another would rise into the job, smoothly, barely a cough in the engines that churned out all that cash.

This &ndash actually positioning one of their own to take over &ndash hell, yeah, it was worth everything, everything Sonny'd had to do to get here, every lie he'd had to tell to a loved one, every hour of fear and loneliness. If anyone could make it happen, it would be Sonny, who'd remade the Steelgrave empire out of his brother's ashes, who could charm, intimidate and outwit everyone he'd ever met. It was crazy, but it might just work.

"Wow," said Vinnie.

Sonny locked the documents away again. They drove home in silence. Vinnie was still reeling, the full impact of this revelation hitting him only now. They were on the same side. Sonny was on his side. No more betrayals. No more lies.

He was smiling all of a sudden and couldn't stop, grinning over at Sonny like an idiot. Sonny was looking straight ahead, navigating the dark streets, but then he snorted and glanced over. "Know what's funny, Vinnie?" he said. "Right now, I'm really pissed that you lied to me all this time."

And suddenly they were both wheezing with laughter, the complete insanity of the situation hitting Vinnie until he was bent over with it, leaning weakly against the door, coughing and snorting. He didn't even notice that Sonny had turned off the highway until he was pulling the car into some dark little alley, and then Sonny was on him, kissing him fiercely, laughing against his mouth. He held on gratefully, already so hard it hurt.

"God, look at us," Sonny said. "Nobody's gonna fucking believe this."

"Yeah, well, they'd better not," Vinnie said, his voice muffled against Sonny's neck.

Sonny was trying to crawl into his lap, swearing when he banged his knee on the door handle, somehow managing to fit himself in between Vinnie and the dashboard. There was barely enough space for them to open their pants, and it would have been hilarious, if it hadn't been such a goddamn relief to be there at all.

Afterwards, they just slumped on the seat together, sticky and drowsy in the darkness and the combined warmth of their bodies. Finally Sonny turned his head a little to peer at the watch on Vinnie's wrist, which was draped over his shoulder, sat up with a jolt and banged his head on the ceiling. "God damn it!" he hissed. "Vinnie, wake the fuck up, I'm gonna be late for my own goddamn bachelor party."

There was some graceless flailing as two full-grown men frantically tried to disentangle themselves on the narrow seat. Sonny burned rubber all the way home, but they somehow managed not to get pulled over. Seemed like his luck was finally turning, Vinnie thought with a smile, still unable to shake the warm glow of knowing Sonny on his side.

They sprinted up the stairs together, panting; Sonny was shedding his clothes before he was even through the door, probably ripping off the rest of the buttons left on his shirt. They shoved into the bathroom together for the fastest shower Vinnie had ever taken in his life, and that included the ones in prison, with his back to the wall and a shiv in his hand.

Two minutes later, they were getting dressed, Vinnie trying not to get distracted by the sight of a naked Sonny, his back still beaded with water, bent over and struggling into his boxers. His brain, bizarrely, chose that moment to start working again. "Karen," he said.

Sonny threw him a confused glance out of the armhole of the undershirt he was wrestling with. "What?"

"Karen Leland. The undercover cop. She just disappeared. I thought... Is she dead?"

"Nah," Sonny said. "I had a real earnest talk with her, warned her to get her ass out of my city before my boys got it into their head to do something she might regret. Didn't tell her about me, I didn't trust her enough for that, but I guess she got the message."

"Thank God," Vinnie said.

Sonny squeezed his hand for a second, then let him go, struggling with the cuff links on his shirt. "Yeah. Listen, that fed I made you shoot, right at the beginning? He's fine, too. My people called him, warned him to wear a vest."

"Oh," Vinnie said. "Yeah, uh, I knew &ndash Frank was there, made sure he was okay. We wondered at the time why he already seemed to know about everything, actually. Here, let me do that." He took the cufflinks Sonny was still fumbling with.

"Hey, so what was that thing with Joey Romanowski?" he asked, and then wished he could take it back when he saw the expression on Sonny's face.

"That was me, fucking up." Sonny was standing still like any movement might shatter him, muscles coiled tight under his skin, the jacket he'd been pulling on drooping forgotten from his arms. "I was getting nervous, slipping up, everyone pushing and pulling at me, you getting too close... I thought the whole game was up when you found those damn cards in my wallet. Thought you'd found out somehow, that maybe you were just testing the waters, trying to see how I'd react." He sighed.

"I was trying to play the stone-cold don and got too convincing. They weren't supposed to hurt him bad, just rough him up some, make you get off my case. I didn't think... Yeah. That was basically it. I just didn't. fucking. think."

There was nothing he could do to make this better, Vinnie knew. People got hurt because of you, platitudes didn't do a damn thing. He pulled Sonny into his arms, quietly, patting his back. Sonny leaned his head against his shoulder.

Vinnie finally pulled back a little, settling the jacket on Sonny's shoulders and straightening his tie, hands lingering. "What about Theresa?" he asked quietly, hating to prod at what he suspected would be more open wounds, but he needed to get this out between them. He was fucking sick of secrets.

Sonny turned away, fussing with his watch. "Theresa's a wonderful woman who's going to have her heart broken tomorrow morning. That's the second thing about this whole mess made me feel like a scumbag."

"What's the first?" Vinnie asked, and Sonny simply raised an eyebrow at him.

"What, you think I liked the thought of sending you to prison, Vinnie? Know you've been there already; know what it does to a man. You came out okay, once &ndash second time is harder."

"You sent me to Detroit", he said, suddenly realizing. Out of the line of fire.

"Yeah," Sonny said. "But I couldn't have &ndash you were in too deep, I couldn't have covered for you completely, not without covering up some real important traces the others left. Would have given you a fightin' chance to get away, no more."

"Thanks," Vinnie said simply. God knew he hadn't had the decency to give Sonny even that much. Sonny smiled at him, tiredly, and then his eyes slid to the clock mounted on the wall behind Vinnie. "Fuck. Fuck, we're gonna be late. You done, Vinnie?"

He didn't give him time to answer, already storming towards the door, stuffing his wallet into a pocket as he went, one of his shoes still untied.

**********

They made it to the party with seconds to spare, most of the guests already gathering in the foyer, talking and laughing. Sonny was greeted with catcalls and whistles, and Vinnie just knew there'd be strippers later. Come to think of it, Sonny had probably ordered the strippers himself.

Patrice was across the room making nice with Mahoney. Vinnie's hands clenched. He moved a little closer to Sonny, bumping against his shoulder as if to shield him with his body. Sonny grabbed his arm and jerked him roughly around. "Will you watch where you're going, Terranova?" he growled, shoving him back a little, narrowing his eyes like a peevish cat. "Jesus, you've been in the way all day."

It felt like Sonny had upended a bucket of ice water over his head. Jesus Christ, he'd completely forgotten to play the disgruntled employee for the audience. He was way off his game, still shaken by the new shape of things, distracted by a tentative happiness that was dangerously premature.

This wasn't a good time to get sidetracked. A single mistake could get both of them killed. He channeled his anger at himself into a glare directed at Sonny. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered sarcastically, shoving off to drop heavily against the wall next to Patrice.

"Sonny's sure in a sweet mood these days," he groused. "What, he think cause he's got a little woman now, he doesn't need friends anymore?"

"You just remember that you have friends who'll treat you right, Vincenzo," Patrice said, patting his shoulder. Vinnie clenched his teeth and didn't break his arm. The polite smile he managed was maybe the most difficult bit of acting he'd ever had to do.

He let Mahoney's men pat him down, take his piece away. Made him fucking nervous to be unarmed at a time like this, but the rule was no weapons in the dining room, and there was nothing much he could do about it now.

**********

The party was predictably raunchy and loud, with no wives or daughters to keep things clean. Aldo thought he was a real funny man, but then, being wrong seemed to be Aldo's natural state, anyway. The food was great, but Vinnie couldn't really relax enough to enjoy it. He was keeping an eye on Patrice and Scullisi, and the predatory, self-satisfied gleam in Patrice's eyes every time he looked into Sonny's direction made his blood run cold.

He couldn't really keep watching Patrice and Scullisi during Sonny's speech, not with everyone else so obviously caught up in the drama Sonny was building, prowling up and down the length of the table, expressive hands in constant movement and his eyes sparking with life; would have been hard to look away, anyway.

But Vinnie never quite let the two of them out of his line of sight, which made it inexcusable when Scullisi ended Sonny's act by jumping to his feet, holding a gun he shouldn't have had. Fucking Mahoney.

"Aww, wasn't that touching," Scullisi said. "Shame it's never going to happen, isn't it?" He pointed the gun at Sonny's chest.

Something in Vinnie's mind just snapped, icy-cold rage shuddering through his nerves. He jumped up so fast his chair clattered to the floor behind him; pure reflex to reach for a gun he didn't have anymore.

Scullisi half-turned, moving back a little so he could cover both Sonny and Vinnie, who were standing almost at opposite ends of the table. "Sit down, Terranova," he snapped.

Vinnie's hand desperately itched for his piece, or, hell, any weapon would have been an improvement at this point, but short of throwing the floral arrangement at Scullisi's head, there was nothing to hand &ndash and from the way Patrice was staring at him hatefully, he'd just signed his own death certificate.

Okay. Time for plan B. He picked up his chair and forced himself to sit down again, sprawling in a show of casual unconcern. "I really wouldn't do that, Scullisi," he said.

Scullisi snorted. "What, you think you could stop me, pretty boy?"

"Nah," Vinnie said. "Just thought you might wanna know that the OCB is watching us right now on candid camera."

Scullisi paled, but then of course Aldo had to spoil the moment. "He's lying! I swept every inch of this resort! There aren't any cameras anywhere!"

Thanks a bunch, fucker. So much for his cover. "I swept the dining room, babbo," he said.

Scullisi pivoted to face him. Sonny was almost completely out of his field of vision, now. "You're a cop, Terranova?" That got a reaction from the table at general, finally: exclamations and whispering, people starting to fidget, trying to figure out what exactly he might know about their action.

"What's it to you?" he said with contempt. He wanted Scullisi worked up; people made mistakes when they were pissed, and at this point he needed all the help he could get. "Sorry, Sonny," he added. His odds weren't good, but maybe he could give Sonny a fighting chance.

Sonny ran with it like a goddamn champion. "You goddamn lying, scum-sucking bastard," he hissed, lifting his fists and taking two steps closer &ndash closer to Scullisi, who didn't even seem to notice. Sonny was still glaring at him. He was good &ndash if Vinnie hadn't known better, he'd never have doubted for a second that Sonny was about to beat the crap out of him.

Scullisi jerked his gun at Aldo, who flinched and all but cowered under the table like the little rat he was. "You &ndash find that damn camera," Scullisi ordered. Aldo got up unsteadily, eyes still on the gun, and started checking the walls and corners of the room. He still had no method, God knew Vinnie'd tried, but the ornamental grating was kind of hard to miss. Aldo climbed onto a chair and pried it open, exposing the camera-and-videotape set-up.

"It's not a live feed," he called out, picking up the heavy tape deck and dropping it on the floor. The plastic case shattered. He pulled the cassette out of the wreckage, spooling out the tape. Vinnie forced himself not to look at Sonny, who hadn't moved. Christ, man, I gave you a window. Use it, he prayed. Get out of here.

"Now that we've cleared that up, Terranova &ndash why don't you stand up and step away from the table, please?" Scullisi said, a terrible mirth in his voice.

This is fun for him, Vinnie realized, and strangely enough, that thought almost made it better. Men like Patrice and Scullisi were the reason he'd taken this job in the first place, the reason he put his neck on the line every damn day. He'd failed, and that wasn't something he liked to think about, but at least the job was worth doing.

Still, he had to force himself to get up with seeming calm, fear trying to lock his muscles. There wasn't enough air in the room. He took two slow steps away from the table, settling into a relaxed stance that couldn't have been more of a lie. "You gonna do it here, Scullisi? Right in front of everyone?"

Scullisi gave him an ugly grin. "You think anyone's gonna care what happens to you, cop?" He pointed the gun at Vinnie's chest. Vinnie closed his eyes.

"Don't!" Sonny's voice said, and he snapped them open again. Christ, Sonny, no. Not you too.

"Now listen, Scullisi, you let me do it," Sonny said, edging closer. Scullisi eyed him warily. "That... that traditore, he's been sleeping in my house, eating at my table, spending my money, and all the time he's been selling me out. You let me kill this scumbag," he said.

Vinnie could see Patrice looking interested, and he just knew the thought of watching Sonny kill the man who'd been his best friend had appeal to the bastard; but he didn't speak up, and Scullisi wasn't going to give up his kill. Good try, anyway, he thought at Sonny, fighting the urge to smile at him.

Scullisi turned his full attention on Vinnie again, gun held in both hands, steady and unwavering. No way he was going to miss from this distance. He forced himself to meet Scullisi's gaze. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing him afraid.

And then Sonny, God damn him for a suicidal idiot, Sonny charged at Scullisi right as he fired. Something slammed hard into Vinnie's shoulder, and he was on the ground. Distantly, he could hear himself screaming. God. Wasn't adrenaline supposed to kill the pain? Well, this fucking hurt, like someone was twisting a hot poker into his shoulder, again and again.

Sonny and Scullisi were on the floor, fighting like rabid dogs for Scullisi's gun. Patrice was on his feet and moving toward them when Sonny screamed, pure animal fury in the sound, catching Scullisi with an elbow in the nose so hard the guy was lucky not to end up with a skull full of bone splinters, and tore the weapon out of his hand.

Vinnie must have blacked out for a moment there, because when he opened his eyes the next time, Patrice was backed up against the table. Sonny was pointing the gun at him. Scullisi was sprawled on the floor, out cold, blood dripping from his face. Nobody else had moved at all.

"Now you all listen to me," Sonny said, addressing the table in general. "We all know there's no way I can shoot all of you, but I sure as hell can hit the first two guys who try something. Anyone wanna be the first? Maybe you, Patrice?"

There was a manic fire in his eyes. Patrice backed away from it, holding his hands up. "Now, Sonny, don't you &ndash"

"You just shut the fuck up," Sonny said. "I am real tired of you tryin' to tell me what I can and cannot do. Vinnie, hey, you listening to me? My backup's an hour away. Any way I can reach your guys?"

"555-378-4352," Vinnie said, gasping for breath between the numbers. God, how could anything hurt this fucking bad?

Sonny was on the phone at the other end of the room, still covering the table with his gun. "Oh, you better not really be his uncle Mike," Vinnie heard him say, before he blanked out again.

He surfaced with Sonny kneeling next to him, carefully pulling his upper body into his lap, stroking his face with the hand that wasn't holding the gun. "Hey, Vinnie, you doing okay?"

"Just &ndash fine," Vinnie wheezed, and then screamed like an animal when Sonny bent down to apply pressure to the wound with his free hand.

"Shh, shh, you're gonna be fine &ndash they'll be there any minute now, you just hang in there," Sonny muttered. Vinnie turned his head into Sonny's jacket. The room was pitching around him even with his eyes closed. Sounds were weirdly distorted, phasing in and out of audible range. The only solid thing in the world was Sonny, steady warmth pressed right up against him, and that was fine with him.

**********

Nothing had ever felt as good as waking up with the pain gone. Vinnie opened his eyes, blinking blearily into the bright overhead lights. He was in the hospital, he could smell it. His right shoulder was thickly swathed in bandages. Sonny was sprawled in a chair next to his bed, whole and alive, the most beautiful damn sight in the universe.

"Hey, Vinnie," he said. "Don't worry, docs got you all patched up. Scared the hell out of me back there, though. Don't do that again, huh?"

"Yeah, same to you," Vinnie said, snorting weakly. Just turning his head made something twinge in his shoulder. Great.

When Sonny turned his head, Vinnie saw that one of his eyes was swollen, surrounded by a purple bruise. He tried to reach the closest hand to Sonny's face, but he couldn't seem to gather enough strength to actually lift his arm. "Cops jerk you around?" he asked, and Sonny laughed.

"Nah, that was Theresa. Had that one coming, I guess. That's one hell of a woman." He sounded admiring. "Speaking of cops, your boss doesn't like me much, either," he added.

"My boss doesn't like anyone," Vinnie said. "He's a good guy, though. Look, Sonny &ndash I'm sorry about the way things worked out back there." They'd both blown their cover to pieces; there wouldn't be any way back in for Sonny.

Sonny shrugged. "s'fine. Tell you the truth, I'm gonna be real glad to get out." He got up from the chair, perching on the edge of Vinnie's bed instead.

"So what's the situation out there?" Vinnie asked.

Sonny smiled grimly. "Tech guys say they can probably restore most of that video. Patrice and Scullisi, there's no way they're gonna wriggle out of this one. Mahoney neither, looks like it &ndash Scullisi was still singing like a bird when I left." He picked up Vinnie's good hand, idly playing with the fingers. "Most of the people in that dining room aren't gonna breathe unfiltered air for a long time. We did good, Vinnie."

Vinnie closed his eyes. "So that's it, then," he said. End of the road.

Sonny groaned. "You wish, Terranova. About a million hours of paperwork and debriefing in our future on this one. Might want to ask the good doctor for some of that morphine to go."

Vinnie laughed, giving Sonny's arm a weak shove that made the twinge in his shoulder flare up in warning. "Hey. We made it out alive," he said.

"Yeah. And if we want to stay alive, we better not be showing our faces around this city for a long time," Sonny said, and then grinned. "So where you wanna go, Vinnie? Italy? Monaco? Brazil's supposed to be nice this time of year... Sit on a beach, drink champaign, watch the pretty ladies..." He waggled his eyebrows.

"Sounds like my kind of plan," Vinnie said, squeezing his hand.

THE END