by Drew Zachary
Jesse held himself still and actually looked down to make sure his feet weren't sinking into the floor or rising up two inches above it. "Of course I'm jealous, you ninny," he said, forcing himself not to yell. "You fucking ignored me. You can pass on what I say without making it look like you're insane, but you chose not to. I don't go off when you talk to another guy; I go off when another guy touches you and you let him."
"We knocked knees, that's all -- it was busy in there. Damn it, Jesse, I wasn't 'letting' him do anything. And it's easier to pretend I'm normal and sane when I'm in a public place if I just tune you out. You know that." DB threw up his hands. "You want me to tell Joe, the one person who doesn't think I'm a freak and isn't trying to put me away, that I'm actually in a relationship, full-on sexual relationship, with my ghost? Is that what you want? I thought you were as happy as I was that I finally found someone who believes me, who can actually help?"
Jesse sighed and gave up. "Actually, yes. That's exactly what I want. And as a special treat, maybe once in my existence it would be cool if you'd admit that you're wrong or even acknowledge that you've hurt me. But whatever, it's not like I'm real or anything." Okay, that was probably low and taking things too far. Not for the first time, Jesse wished he was better able to just shut up.
DB stiffened. "Well, if you're not real, then I really am insane." Then he downed his beer, slammed the empty in the sink, and stalked off toward the bedroom.
Jesse watched him go and sighed again. "Right, because it's all about you, DB. Come on, listen to me. If I was solid, would you treat me like you do? No, you wouldn't. All I'm asking for is a little more consideration."
DB turned at the doorway. "Look, I interact with you in front of Joe when it's just the three of us, don't I? That wasn't exactly easy to do. Now you want me to do it while we're in public, too? You think that's going to be easy? When for so long I've trained myself not to start talking to you where just anyone can see it? I'm not trying to be an asshole, here. And you know I care about you. It isn't my fault you're dead!"
"I'm not saying it's your fault I'm dead. God." Jesse stopped walking and stood about two feet from DB, looking at his face, studying it. "Maybe I should just... not be there when you talk to Joe. It's too hard, being ignored. Although I really, really would appreciate it if you at least told him that I'm useful."
DB's mouth dropped open. "But Jesse -- he knows you're useful! He knows that the only reason I've known so much and been there at the right time so much is because of you."
"But when I'm sitting right there and you're not saying my name, when you're not saying anything about me, when the only reminder he has that I even exist is a chair shoved away from the table..." Jesse shook his head. "I'm real to you. Not to him. And I'm finding that it matters, because of how he looks at you, how he talks to you. You have no idea how frustrating it is not to be able to even clear my throat and remind him that I'm there."
DB shook his head. "I still don't think he was flirting with me, Jesse. And I knew you were there, even if I wasn't talking to you or about you."
"Maybe that's not enough. Go to bed, DB. I'll see you tomorrow."
DB sighed. "Look, I am sorry I upset you, but I didn't do it on purpose."
"I know that. But intent doesn't matter, either, sometimes. Outcome does. I'm upset. I feel ignored and hurt, and when I try to tell you why, you get defensive and dismissive." Jesse rubbed his face, suddenly exhausted. "We don't fight very well."
"Does anybody? I don't want to fight with you, Jesse. And I've said I'm sorry, okay? That's supposed to be where you say okay and we move on."
Jesse nodded slowly. He could do that. Sure. Why not? "Okay. Let's move on." Except it didn't feel okay, and he had a horrible feeling that it wasn't, not really. Maybe they were spending too much time together.
"Okay. Look, I'm going to go to bed. I'm suddenly not in the mood for TV, and God knows, I've got to get an early start tomorrow on that stupid basement." DB gave him a dejected wave. "'Night."
Jesse watched him go and waved back. "'Night, DB," he said softly. He'd just go sit on the couch for a while, maybe. Or to the office, or to pretty much anywhere.
"I'll see you in the morning."
"Sure." Jesse nodded again, resigned, and went to sit on the couch. Maybe he'd figure out an answer by morning. Probably not, though, since there wasn't really even a question. At least he didn't dream anymore -- no worries about seeing Joe pawing at DB all night long. Well, if he'd stop thinking about it, anyway.
Jesse sat in the dark and worked on that.
***
The basement was worse than DB had thought. Once he got the work lights in there, he could see that there was mold everywhere. It was pretty disgusting. There were also still boxes of crap and bits and pieces all over the place.
He'd been working all morning and had already removed a dozen or so garbage bags. He still wasn't ready to wash everything down with bleach. Thank goodness he'd found a plastic suit and mask before he'd come in to do the job.
He glanced at his watch. Nearly one o'clock. It looked like he was on his own for this, aside from Jesse sulking in the corner. He'd just sighed and allowed himself a moment of annoyance when he heard the basement door open.
"DB? Are you down there?" Joe's voice called from the top of the stairs, and then he started to cough.
"Mmhmm, you don't see me going down there, do you, child? You'll be wanting to protect yourself, even if you are an officer of the law. A mask is all I can offer, honey -- try to avoid getting covered in dust."
"Thanks." Joe sounded a little amused. "DB?" He came down the stairs, his footfalls dull thumps.
"Yeah, I'm down here. I thought maybe you weren't going to show." Though, with Jesse's weirdness, maybe it would have been better if Joe hadn't.
"I said lunchtime, didn't I?" Joe reached the bottom, holding a mask to his face. He was wearing a suit. "That could be anytime after eleven and before two, really. Damn, it's a mess in here, isn't it?"
"Uh, yeah, and you're going to get your suit unbelievably dirty even if you just stand around. Hell, it's almost thick enough to cover even Jesse." He nodded toward the corner of the room where Jesse was sitting. There. If he didn't get points for that, he was giving up.
Jesse rolled his eyes, but he smiled, too, and that was more than DB had gotten all morning.
Joe looked over and nodded. "Afternoon, Jesse." Then he looked down at his suit and shrugged. "I have a bunch of them. It's not like I don't get messy at some of the crime scenes I get called to. So. No treasure yet?"
DB snorted. "I haven't even found the damn floor yet. I figure it'll take me another couple hours to clear through the rest of this junk, and then at least an hour to scrub everything down. I've got lots of bleach, though." He was going to have to charge Yanya extra -- the basement would be more than useable when he was done with it.
"Oh. Damn." Joe took the mask away from his mouth long enough for DB to see his wide, happy grin. "I came by too soon, clearly." He put his mask on properly, though, and started rolling up his sleeves. "Where do you want me?"
From Jesse's corner the silence grew thick.
"Grab a garbage bag and start filling it. I'm going through the boxes, but it's mostly papers and shit. There's a lot of worthless crap here that's all getting thrown out. Let me know if you find anything of value."
He made the mistake of glancing over at Jesse.
Arms folded again, glaring at Joe, Jesse wasn't quite quick enough to hide his reaction from DB. "He wants you," Jesse said clearly. "That man would not pitch in, wearing a suit, if he didn't plan on showering off the grime at your place later."
DB rolled his eyes. Like that was going to happen. "Don't be crazy," he muttered under his breath.
"You'll see," Jesse warned. "Do you want me to go?"
Joe, sleeves up, was looking around thoughtfully. "I guess diving in is the best way." He walked toward the garbage bags, side-stepping a pile of crap and brushing against DB
as he went.
DB backed up to give the guy room and got closer to Jesse. "Stay or go, it's up to you, but stop with the crazy talk, okay?"
"If you think I'm crazy, why don't you just ask him?" Jesse went to the wall and stood there, back out of the way. It helped that he could walk through the piles and didn't have to pick his way around them.
"Are you talking to me?" Joe asked, looking at him curiously. "Or are you and Jesse talking about me?" His eyes crinkled at the corner, and though DB couldn't see Joe's grin, he knew it was there.
DB shot a hard glare at Jesse, even as he felt his cheeks heat at Joe's words. He so didn't want to go into this with Joe. The man was going to think he was an idiot. "I... uh... we..."
Joe opened a garbage bag and laughed. "Partners and gossip. Partners and secrets. It's pretty cool, though, don't you think? You can talk to Jesse and only one half is being heard by anyone else. You can confuse eavesdroppers."
Jesse made a sound that was purely dismissive.
God, what was Jesse's problem? Joe was being nice. He couldn't really be jealous, could he? Even if Joe was flirting with him, which DB still didn't think was true, it wasn't like he was flirting back.
"It has its advantages. Although it can be tough keeping a straight face when we're out in public and he's cracking wise."
Joe stuffed a pile of ratty fabric into the bag and glanced over to where Jesse had been. "He's funny, huh?"
"Yeah, he is. Funny, sarcastic, and surprisingly good at detective work." There. He was talking about Jesse to Joe.
"Dude." Jesse sounded stunned.
"I guess being able to go into places without worrying about locks is a help." Joe laughed and moved to the next pile of junk. "Not to mention being able to see without being seen. Very handy."
"Extremely handy. He's a good partner. A hard to explain partner, but a good one."
Jesse moved away from the wall, more or less floating through the junk. His face was both bemused and pleased; definitely a lot less tight than it had been.
"Everyone should have one," Joe said, looking at the garbage he was cramming into the bag. "Someone to count on, on the job."
"Yep. I guess you'd know all about that."
Joe nodded, then looked up at DB. "I do. I miss that. I miss the rest, too." Joe's gaze swept over DB, from his head to his shoes. "Maybe more."
Jesse froze. "See?"
Okay, maybe Joe was checking him out. Maybe.
"I can understand that. I'm glad not to be flying solo at all." There, that ought to send the right message without coming right out and saying he was taken. And that way, if Jesse was wrong, Joe wouldn't think he was an egotistical ass, either.
Joe gave him a curious look, but went back to filling the garbage bag. "Where does Jesse go when you two aren't together? God, what the hell is this thing?" It was wire and had bits of red plastic on it, but aside from that there were no clues.
"Something scary -- just throw it out. As for Jesse. Well, I try not to let him go off on his own all that often -- he usually comes back with some ghost in tow and another non-paying case that's going to make me look either crazy or guilty."
"Heh." Joe snickered and worked away, and Jesse went back to his wall without comment. Thank goodness for small mercies. Unfortunately, Joe was a thinker. "So, if Jesse sticks close to you and you're not flying solo... how does that work, exactly? Jesse likes to watch?"
DB found himself blushing hard. "I'm thinking that kind of falls under the heading of too much information, don't you?"
Joe blinked and then blinked again. "God, sorry." He looked comical as he tried to busy himself immediately. "I suppose it is. I just. Sorry."
"Serves you right," Jesse muttered.
DB shot Jesse a look, silently telling him to behave. "No problem, just kind of personal, yeah?"
"I guess I was kinda hoping to move into personal." Joe tied off the bag and went to get a new one. "I don't mind ghosts -- actually feel better, knowing they're real."
"I'd love to be friends, Joe, but my sex life is still off limits, you know?"
"I do now." Joe shrugged. "Let's get this place in shape before my pager goes off."
Jesse sighed, but didn't say anything. He didn't have to.
DB sighed, too, and got back to work. He'd been hoping he and Joe could be friends. "I really appreciate you giving me a hand," he tried by way of re-opening a conversation.
"Hey, not a problem. Even moving junk is better than sitting at a desk." Joe gave him a look and Joe's eyes crinkled again. "But you totally owe me a beer if we don't find anything good. Hell, maybe even if we do."
DB nodded and grinned. "Yeah, I do. I really appreciate the help, too. Man, I wonder how many basements look like this?"
"Not a lot, I'd bet. Honestly, I'm surprised the fire department let Madam Yanya keep it this bad. Is there a back door? A hatch to the outside or anything? We can haul some of this right out and into the dumpster, maybe."
"Nope, those stairs are it. And I'm guessing she kept the door down to here pretty much hidden."
"Let it never be said that Yanya isn't smart." Joe stood and looked around, resigned. "Okay. Let's get it done. Who knows what kind of time frame we're working on."
"And God knows we'd both rather be doing pretty much anything else with our time." He chuckled and dug in hard. If he could be done today, he could buy Joe that beer.
"Right, that." Joe got to work, too, and Jesse stayed mercifully silent, though very much present.
Things got bagged and boxed, they both got filthy and hot, and eventually -- with a lot of cursing -- they started hauling things up the stairs and through the store. Most of the cursing was Yanya's at that stage, though Lockhart said a few words, too, when he came to check out the excitement.
That got interesting, with Joe being the only person who couldn't see the two ghosts. Lockhart positioned himself just behind and to the left of Joe, so it looked like DB and Yanya were talking to Joe instead of telling Lockart to stop yelling.
"Can one of you please tell me what's going on?" Joe finally pleaded. "I'm getting a complex."
"Aw, poor baby," Jesse said snidely.
Yanya looked at Jesse, standing at her counter. "What's your problem?"
"I don't have a problem."
"Then shut up."
"Everyone just shut up." DB held up his hands. "Lockhart is standing right behind you, that's who we were talking to. Him and Jesse, who's being snarky. So if everyone would just hush a minute. Lockhart -- we've cleared out the basement. Our next step is scrubbing and searching. If there's anything down there to be found, we'll find it."
He paused, looking at Lockhart, hoping that would be enough to have Lockhart finally confessing what all this was about.
"No one found anything when I died. I don't see any reason why you'd find anything now." He looked smug and his eyes had narrowed deviously. "There's nothing there."
"There's something there," Madam Yanya contradicted him. "You're out of my bedroom and that says there's something there. Go to it, gentlemen. Find what the ghost's been hiding."
Jesse held up his hand. "DB."
"What?"
"Charity. Maybe someone should go get her. Lockhart was trying to protect her, I think. Maybe. God, it's hard to tell if he's protecting stuff or a person. In any case, she's living, so maybe we should protect her, too."
DB nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Joe? Jesse thinks maybe Lockhart's daughter might need protection. Have you got anyone on her yet?"
Joe tilted his head and swiped at his cheek. He had a streak of dirt there that was getting worse every time he did that. "I have a couple of people looking into her activity, but I don't have eyes on her, no."
Lockhart grimaced. "God damn it. She was supposed to be a good girl and leave town, but no. Had to go into business."
"Like father, like daughter," DB snapped. He was starting to get a headache between Yanya's yelling, two ghosts, and having to translate for Joe who couldn't se
e Lockhart or Jesse.
"Look, Joe, can you please go check out Charity Lockhart? I'm going to go finish the basement. The more Lockhart says nothing's there, the less I believe him."
Jesse moved over to DB, even as Joe was nodding and patting his pockets, presumably for his phone. "Lockhart's a liar by trade -- being dead for ten years won't have changed that. I'll help you in the basement."
