Third Watch, Five and a Sawbuck

Part of the Five and Dime series. It and the first part of FaaS is here


This was not how Bosco had wanted to start his Monday. Not that he'd thought about this, and actively discarded it as a plan. But if anyone had mentioned the possibility to him, he would have said a big, fat, no. At least he couldn't feel any pain in his shoulders, or back, or arms. No reason to think his grip would give out because he couldn't take it anymore.

He wasn't planning on losing his grip, regardless. But at least he couldn't feel - OK, much - pain in his shoulders. Even with the pain and decidedly odd sensation of having a shoulder joint popped loose of its socket, there was no way he was letting go his grip. No way he was gonna let Bobby fall.

But some help would be nice.

Bosco lay flat on his stomach, dangling from mid-chest up, over the edge of the parapet. Both his arms were extended as far - the left one a tad farther - as possible, and both hands gripped as tightly as he could the wrists of one Bobby Caffey.

The morning had started out well. Better than normal, anyway, for a Monday. Bosco had spent a lovely weekend at home - most often in the bedroom, though they had made one supply run for pizza and beer, and a box of condoms. Saturday and Sunday were spent doing absolutely nothing that one could call constructive, or worthwhile - unless you were a guy with someone to have sex with. They'd taken a few breaks, watched a couple games on TV, slept, argued over who had to get out of bed to make breakfast.

Mostly, though, Bos hadn't even had to put on underwear until Monday, around noon. He was sort of wishing, now, that he was still at home, naked, in bed, thinking about Bobby in terms of "Hey, Jimmy, you think Bobby would..."

Bobby had come over, Friday night, for dinner. Kim had brought him, making no real excuses for inviting him. Jimmy hadn't seemed surprised, so Bosco guessed she'd mentioned it to him earlier. By the time Faith and her brood had arrived, Jimmy had guilted Bos into ordering pizza rather than making him cook. Why cooking for nine was any more tedious than cooking for eight, Bosco didn't ask. But he'd ordered pizza, and Kim had brought a couple bottles of wine, and with the kids playing in the living room they'd all managed to spend a few hours in each other's company more or less enjoying the evening.

He'd even made semi-agreeable noises when Faith had said cheerfully that they should do it again sometime. Bosco had no doubts that he'd get to pay for dinner the next time, too, until Faith decided he'd spent enough on feeding her family to make up for all the times she'd fed him. Knowing her, she'd wait til she was ahead, before saying he could stop.

They hadn't made firm plans, but when he and Faith had taken their first call this morning and found Kim and Bobby on the scene, as well, Faith and Kim had mentioned it. Bosco knew if he left them alone, by the end of the shift they'd have everything settled.

He was pretty sure that he'd been assured that if he dated guys, he wouldn't have to deal with being hen-pecked. Somebody owed him his money back.