****

Oh God.  Oh God, oh God, oh God!  What the fuck is happening?!  I didn't mean for him to do this!  This is bad, very bad!  I shouldn't-we shouldn't be doing this!  We're both boys!  This is so wrong.  Thoughts whirled in Dutchy's head.

I can't believe I'm actually doing this… Specs thought.  Maybe…maybe I shouldn't.  I just got "caught up in the moment", I guess.  But damn he's cute! 

This is wrong…but it feels right.  What the hell is the matter with me?!

Feeling Dutchy relax, Specs let go of his wrist and cupped Dutchy's cheek and gently tipped his face at a better angle.  Dutchy-his hand shaking-shifted his grip on the knife he held.  He again pressed the blade against Specs' throat who stopped.  Dutchy applied more pressure, moving him backwards.

Specs looked relatively calm as he stood with the dagger against his neck.  Dutchy was in far worse shape.  He gripped the counter with his other hand and was leaning back against it.  Specs got the feeling that he could stand on his own, probably because the blonde man was shaking franticly. 

Specs let go of him and Dutchy would have fallen down if Pip had not leaned over the bar and gotten her arms around him securely.  Specs nodded to Pip who returned the gesture a bit awkwardly.  He turned and walked towards the door, which swung open, and a young woman in a red dress, black zip-up boots, and a black corduroy jacket walked in.  She smiled at Specs who returned the gesture and passed her, out the door.

"Hey, Shirl!  Get down here and help me, would ya?" Pip yelled.  Shirley klomped down the stairs, across the room, and relieved Ann of her burden.  She managed to get Dutchy back up on his stool and he gripped the bar counter for support.

"What's wrong with him?" Shirley asked, sitting down on the stool next to Dutchy.  He now had his face buried in his hands, elbows resting on the bar top.  Pip surveyed Dutchy's condition for a moment.

"Dutchy?  Are you going to tell her or should I?"

"Mmph." Was his muffled answer.

"Specs kissed him."

"Really?" Shirley arched an eyebrow.  "Well, it's about time."

"What?" Dutchy asked, looking bewildered.  Shirley's other eyebrow rose up to meet it's twin.  She swallowed the mouthful of Daiquiri she had just sipped.

"I recognize you."

"Shirl…" Pip began.

"Oh.  Right.  Specs and I used to have a 'relationship'.  I put a stop to it when I realized what his sexual preference really was." Shirley said offhandedly as though these sorts of things happened daily in her life.  "I had to drag out those repressed emotions, though.  Poor boy had absolutely no clue."

"Pip…" Dutchy looked over at his friend.  "Am I gay?"

"I don't see why you're asking me." Pip answered, wiping down the counter.  "But to answer your question, you're about as straight as that wrought-iron gate out in front of the City Hall."

Dutchy moaned and dropped his face again into his hands.  Shirley patted him comfortingly on the back.  He flinched at her cold hands and she apologized quickly with a bit of a sheepish grin.

"You need to think this over and figure out for yourself what you want.  And then tell Specs." Pips told him.  With a sigh, Dutchy fell silent and racked through his brains and emotions for a clue of some sorts.  The girls weren't at all surprised when he got up and ran out the door.

****

Dutchy scolded himself as he splashed through puddles.  It had been stupid of him to take that girl's advice.  Who was he kidding?  Dutchy demanded of himself why he had thought he would have been able to catch up with Specs. 

And with the reaction I gave, Dutchy thought grimly.  It's likely that I won't see him around ever again.

"That's a pothole." A familiar voice said, breaking in through his musings.  Dutchy looked up to see Specs leaning against the wall next to him.  "Might want to go around it."

"Why aren't you inside?" Dutchy asked, noting that his tone sounded mush like a scolding mother's.  "Doesn't rain water ruin leather?"

"Do I care?" Specs lifted an eyebrow.  Dutchy noticed that the downpour had taken it's toll on Specs' hair as well.  It was no longer in spikes and plastered down on his head.  " 'Sides, my landlady gave me the boot."

"No relatives?"

"I ain't going back to my family."

Dutchy sighed.  "Come on then."

"What?"

"I said come on.  You can stay at my place until you find a decent place to live.  As decent as this town goes, anyway." Dutchy replied.  Specs looked doubtful and didn't move for a second.  He finished the metal struggle he was having and fell into step next to Dutchy, a bag over his shoulder.

****

Continue to part 5...