Gensomaden Saiyuki Fan Fiction ❯ Wake Up ❯ Chapter 1

“Wake Up”
By Viridian5
4/27/06

RATING: NC-17; Gojyo/Hakkai, Goku/Sanzo. Reincarnation futurefic. If m/m interaction bothers you, pass this by.
SPOILERS: vaguely for a lot of things, manga and anime, including Requiem.
SUMMARY: Through time, they’re trying to find themselves and each other.
ARCHIVAL/DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere, as long as you ask me first.
FEEDBACK: can be sent to Viridian5@aol.com
DISCLAIMERS: All things Saiyuki belong to Kazuya Minekura/Epix, Saiyuki Project, TV Tokyo, and A.D. Vision, Inc. No infringement intended.
NOTES: Thanks to Bardsley and Lunarennui for pre-reading and encouragement.

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“Wake Up”
By Viridian5
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That had gone better than Tim had expected. It had been a good idea to give his family time, three weeks, to get over feeling that he’d been stupid to take a bullet protecting a student of his and be more relieved that he’d survived.

They could meet Ravi another time.

Then again, perhaps it might have been better to present his injured self and his new, younger, and somewhat exotic and sluttish seeming boyfriend to them all at once in the hopes that they’d be so glad he was alive that they might be more accepting and less likely to think he was having a very early midlife crisis due to nearly getting himself killed recently. There would have been a justice to bringing Ravi, since they’d first met that night and Ravi had helped save his life. But too late now.

It would be good to return to Chicago and Ravi. He’d missed them.

Something at the side of the road ahead caught Tim’s eye and made him slow his driving. A thin blond teen turned a little to face him and put out his thumb to hitchhike. Despite a healing bullet wound to the contrary, Tim didn’t often take risks and wouldn’t think of picking up a hitchhiker but something about this one struck Tim’s heart. Something about the way he... smoked? Tim didn’t know.

He stopped the car and put the passenger side window down, which sent a blast of summer heat in. “Where are you heading?”

The boy blew out a plume of cigarette smoke, then said, “West.” Walking along the road had left a fine coating of reddish dirt on his blue jeans, shirt, and trucker’s cap.

“That’s rather vague.”

“As far west as you’ll take me.”

What an odd request. It intrigued Tim, even though he knew Ravi would kick him for being an idiot. “All right. Get in.”

“Thanks.”

The boy slung his backpack onto the floor and settled his legs around it as he sat. The boy’s combat boots were even dirtier than the rest of him. As he closed the door with one hand, he pointed to the cigarette in his mouth with the other and asked, “You mind?”

“No. I’m used to it.” Tim started the car up again and returned to the road.

“Good.”

“I’m Tim.”

“Sam.” Looking tired, Sam took off his cap and shoved it into his pack, crossed his arms over his chest, and settled back in his seat.

Tim knew that some people saw it as somewhat hip to wear clothing larger than they should have, but something about Sam suggested that he’d lost weight since he’d bought what he wore. It tugged at Tim.

“What led you to hitchhiking?” Tim asked.

Sam looked annoyed but answered, “Nothing left for me in my own town, but the second transmission on my Chevy died and I couldn’t afford another car or even another trannie. I had to get out somehow.”

“Your town?”

“In Ohio.” His tone said that he wouldn’t get any more detailed than that.

“You’re in Illinois now.”

“I would fucking hope so.”

He must have been out on the roads for a while. His sun-streaked hair and sunburn/tan corroborated that story.

Ravi would laugh at him scoping Sam out. Or have been jealous.

Ravi needn’t have worried, since Sam wasn’t sociable and Tim needed people who spoke. Even sleeping, the hitchhiker looked worn out. Sam’s head drooped and he slept, showing more trust than Tim would have expected given his unfriendly and nearly feral demeanor. How tired was he to do that now? Again, something about him sleeping sitting in the passenger seat, arms crossed, head down and hair hiding his face somewhat, triggered a rush of familiarity. It felt... right.

Tim had been getting a lot of that lately, but so far it had led only to good things.

His cell phone played its ringtone music, and Ravi had put “Brick House” on it this time. Tim would have to remember to set it back to “Für Elise.” Catchy, though. “Hello?”

“Timmeh. You have to tell Goku that you don’t have anyone with you because he is spazzing out,” Ravi said.

“How is he spazzing out?”

“Going on about this guy who’s supposedly riding with you. Hey! Stop--”

Suddenly Goku’s voice could be heard over the phone. “You have to bring him to us in Chicago. You have to.” He sounded nearly desperate.

How odd. “I can hardly kidnap him.”

In the background Tim could vaguely hear Ravi ask, “He does have someone with him? How the hell did you know that?” Tim wondered the same.

“Where does he want to go?” Goku asked.

“West. Just west.”

Goku laughed. “West. That’s-- You have to bring him here. Chicago is west of where he started, right?”

“West and significantly north.”

“He’ll deal. I have to see him, Tim.”

“Why?”

“Why did you pick him up, Tim?”

“I...” Tim groped for his thought. “I had to.”

“Yeah.”

Goku rarely asked for much, and he’d helped save Tim’s life. And taking Sam to Goku and Ravi somehow seemed right too. Insanity. But insanity had been rewarding lately.

At least he wouldn’t be stealing a minor across state lines, since they wouldn’t be leaving Illinois. Sam was so quiet and familiar in the passenger seat, and he was a kid needing help.... “All right.”

“Yes! Thanks!”

“Gimme back the phone,” Ravi growled, then said to Tim, “You picked up a hitchhiker? After I took so much trouble saving your ass?”

“Yes. I’m ungratefully spiting you by putting my ass on the line again. This time by picking up skinny blond kids. Well, just one skinny blond kid.”

“He could have a knife, Hero.”

“Goku wants to see him.”

“Goku doesn’t always play with a full deck.”

“It’s sweet that you worry.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.”

“Better not. I like being disreputable. Bad enough I’m dating a college professor....”

“Horrors. You might learn something.”

“I’ve been teaching you plenty of things lately,” Ravi purred.

Tim really did want to see him again soon. “We’ll see who teaches whom.”

“You get me all hot with the educated talk. See you soon. Don’t trust the kid.”

Tim didn’t have to trust the kid or not, since Sam slept all the way and didn’t wake until he parked the car in front of his building. Ravi and Goku stood at the door. Actually, Ravi stood while Goku approached the car at a fast walk.

Sam tensed as soon as his eyes opened. “Where are we?”

“Chicago.”

Sam’s eyes widened, then he snarled, “I said ‘west’!”

“This is west. And north.”

“You freak!” Sam opened the door and threw himself and his backpack out of it with a speed that stunned Tim. The boy was fast.

Goku was faster, grabbing Sam by the arm and spinning him around. Sam pulled a gun out, and Tim stopped breathing.

Goku grinned and knocked it away while still keeping his hold on the boy. “Sanzo! You don’t know how long--”

“You!” Sam shouted. “Your fucking voice! You’re the one!”

“Yes!”

Tim had never believed in spontaneous human combustion but wondered if he might actually see Sam explode. Ravi looked like he didn’t know whether he wanted to try to get between Sam and Goku or not.

Goku might have surprising strength but didn’t look like much really, being all long, ropey muscle and tendon. He was in his early 20s but seemed younger, irrepressible. By looks, Sam should have been knocked down by a strong wind, but he too seemed to have a deceptive strength. They were about the same height, which wasn’t much, maybe 5’8. But the tension between them vibrated and might explode into violence.

Sam had been carrying a gun the whole time.

But he hadn’t had a knife.

“You asshole!” Sam shouted. “Do you know how fucking crazy you make me? ‘Come find me! Come west!’ Do you know how many years they had me on medication? No, of course you don’t, you fucker! Give me my gun back! Give me my arm back!”

Inexplicably, Goku said, “Sanzo, I’m hungry.”

“Urusai!” Sam shouted, then went pale. The fight abruptly left him. “I--”

Smiling, Goku pulled him in closer, to let him lean on him. “It’ll be better. I’ll feed you and put you to bed, and everything will feel much better.”

“My name is ‘Sam,’ not ‘Sanzo,’ and I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t need anything, I don’t need y--”

“I’ll give you your gun back.”

“You’re a fucking freak.”

“It’s okay. You know who I am this time.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re a freak who’s somehow fucking with my head.”

“You know who I am. You just don’t know you know yet. You’ll be much stronger after a good meal.”

Sam looked as confused as Tim felt but far more tired. He finally asked, “Food?”

“Yeah! Food. I’ll give you back your gun after you eat. I won’t be as annoying in your head now that you’re here and I don’t have to be.”

“All right. But if you try anything I’ll make you pay. You’re lucky I don’t deck you for whining at me for years.”

“Sure!” Goku walked away with Sam leaning heavily on him.

“What was that?” Tim asked.

“You think I know?” Ravi answered.

“You work with Goku.”

“Yeah, but with Goku it’s always a matter of scratching the weirdness to find even more weird under it. Good guy, though. I don’t think you have to worry about him molesting Blondie.”

“Goku doesn’t seem like the molesting type.”

Ravi ran his hand through his short hair, providing an interesting ripple of black, candy apple red, black, candy apple red, black.... “Unlike me, huh?”

“I want you to molest me.”

Ravi kissed him. With tongue. “Good thing for both of us that I like doing it, huh?”

Sanzo didn’t eat with a great appetite, but Goku got enough food into him to feel better about things. Thankfully, he’d gotten to Sanzo pretty early this life. Hakkai and Gojyo often had nice lives, but Sanzo rarely died of natural causes at an old age. He kept being orphaned again and again and went through plagues, wars, famines. He often died alone. He was imprisoned for his bad attitude or burned as a witch or institutionalized. He’d even been “martyred” once, although Sanzo probably wouldn’t have called it that when it had happened. Annunciata had only become a nun to get an education and get away from the thug her parents had intended to marry her to.

The townspeople had been so stunned that a nun, even one they called “The Iron Abbess,” had been able to kill 10 attackers with only a large crucifix. Her diversion and sacrifice had given the local people time to get reinforcements to save the town and convent. Last time Goku had been through that part of Italy, he’d found out that St. Annunciata’s feast day was still celebrated.

He hadn’t been in time to save her because they wouldn’t let him stay near the convent. By the time he found out about the attack, it had been too late.

Sanzo’s life as a cat had been peaceful, happy, and long, at least for a cat. Goku had been able to keep him out of trouble completely that time at least. It hadn’t been very satisfying that Sanzo couldn’t talk back to him by voice or mind in that form, though. But he had given Goku dirty looks every time Goku had jokingly called him “Tama.”

Sam was still young. He’d obviously come out of a troubled past, but he was alive and eating at Goku’s table.

And he was highly sensitive. Sanzo often had paranormal senses in his lives, something that contributed to his bad temper and tendency to be revered as a sage or hunted as a witch or demon. In this time they’d apparently just medicated him, which had stopped Goku from feeling him for years.

He’d thought Sanzo had died again....

But they were together now! Still, the sensitivity worked for Goku in that Sanzo knew him somewhat already, but it could be dangerous to Sanzo. Magic seemed to be disappearing from the world--Goku had felt some of his power fading over the last three centuries and seen it happening around him--yet Sanzo’s psychic senses, life after life, became more and more acute in a body and world less and less capable of containing them.

Sanzo’s last self had been institutionalized, his body and health strained by what he saw and heard, with psychiatric drugs only slightly effective against them. Ironically, he was murdered by an inmate convinced that Sanzo was a god, when Sanzo hadn’t actually been a god in several centuries. Goku had taken a job as an orderly there, yet that day he’d been assigned too far from Sanzo to help, and he’d almost broken his limiter when he felt Sanzo die in his mind.

Again.

Sometimes Goku wondered if Kanzeon Bosatsu interfered. He couldn’t tell whether Sanzo had been joking when he said that he had such horrible fortune in his lives as a punishment for being bored once. Goku hadn’t seen hir in over a century, but if he could find hir he’d... he didn’t know what he’d do, what could possibly express his rage.

Now Goku had another chance to save Sanzo, early this time. Sam had abilities too and taken medication for a while, although for him medication worked. Goku would have to watch to see if he could handle being off it. If the visions and knowledge started to tear Sanzo apart again, Goku would intervene. He refused to be helpless another time.

And Sam had blond hair and long, slim fingers that held a gun or cigarettes exactly the way they should. The eyes were hazel and occasionally green instead of purple, and the face was a bit different, but the general effect was so close to him that Goku’s heart hurt looking at him. It made Goku feel centuries younger. Damn, that “shut up” had felt like coming home.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” Sanzo lit up a Marlboro. “So I’m here. What the hell did you want from me that you had to keep pulsing that vague ‘Go west!’ at me?”

Goku went for the truth. “I missed you.”

Sanzo let out a disgusted stream of smoke. “We never met before.”

“We keep meeting over and over.”

“I’m Catholic. I don’t believe in that shit.”

“You know me. You hear things.”

“I’m crazy. Ask my fucking uncle.”

“You hear things. You know things.”

Sanzo closed his eyes. “I’m not having this conversation.”

“Why else did you sleep so well in Tim’s car?”

“I know him too? Please.”

“Him and Ravi. And the Dragon. Well, his name is actually ‘Bob’ in this life but he owns the bar and I still call him ‘the Dragon.’ Or ‘Boss.’”

“Wonderful. Anyone else?”

“Me, Tim, and Ravi are the most important ones.”

“And what am I supposed to do?”

“Live with us. Be happy.” Goku almost winced at his words. It sounded so childish put like that, no matter how true the sentiments. Sanzo would sneer.

Sanzo did sneer.

Goku continued, “Is this worse than what you had back home?”

“I don’t have a home. I’m attached to nothing.” He took a deep breath in on his cigarette, making the tip flare orange. “Nobody does anything for free. What do you want?”

“Help me make the rent, and you can live here.” Goku had learned how to hoard money long ago and didn’t really need the help, but Sanzo distrusted a free ride. Always had.

“That’s it? You called me across several hundred miles because you needed a roommate?”

“Yep.”

“Give me my gun back. You promised.”

Goku handed it over, certain that he could dodge if he had to. Sam couldn’t be as good or fast with it as Sanzo had been, not when Sanzo had the instincts hardwired into his body from years of use. This one was too young and too soft.

Sanzo left it on the table near his hand, then said, “I’m not good company. I have a bad temper. Everything rubs me wrong.”

Goku had to smile. “I know.”

“Right. ‘Course you do. Because we’ve been roommates over and over again, forever.”

“In a way.” Goku put out his hand to shake. “I’m Goku Son.”

“Son Goku.”

Goku had a lump in his throat. “Yeah, but not in this country.”

Sanzo stared at Goku’s outstretched hand, then clasped it with his own. “Samuel Wojnarowski.”

“What?”

“Shut up. I’m Sam. Not Sanzo. And I’m going to use your shower.”

“Sure. If you’re going to be living here, you’ll have to.”

Sanzo... Sam shot him an annoyed look, then walked away with great dignity.

It was just like being home.

“Ravi, come back to bed,” Tim murmured. Sable hair totally mussed, body covered only by one thin sheet, he looked hot and dazed and molestable.

But.... “Can’t. I have to see how Goku’s doing.”

“You’re not going over there.”

“Is that an order, sir?”

“You’re walking around naked.”

“It’s too bad for Chicago that I’m not walking out naked, but I’m sure it’ll make you happier. Your casa is my casa. Same goes for your phone. I’m going to call Goku to make sure Blondie hasn’t killed him. Goku’s kind of like a weird little brother to me, and we left him with some gun-toting, half-wild kid you picked up off the road.”

“You’re actually very sweet.”

“Don’t say that so loud!”

“Fine. You’re callous and unfeeling. Come back to bed when you’re ready.” Tim emphatically rolled over, turning his back, although in a playful instead of annoyed way.

“Don’t turn your ass to me unless you want me to do something with it.”

“I live in hope.”

“Sneaky bastard. I’m making my call before you try to tempt me anymore.”

“Whatever.”

Ravi loved Tim, much as it made him feel hopelessly mushy to admit it. His guy, whom he’d found in an alley bleeding into the trash, heroic and stupid. First much older guy he dated who didn’t want to do some twisted daddy dom thing to him. Ravi owned his daddy issues, thanks.

Tim might be blasé about what had happened today, but Ravi couldn’t be. It had been so freaky the way Goku had known about the hitchhiker and how the hitchhiker almost seemed to know him back. But maybe the kid wasn’t really a stranger. Since Ravi kept feeling familiar with the kid, maybe the kid had come by sometime and Ravi had seen him then.

Like hell.

Any way, Ravi needed to call. “Hey, Goku.”

“Hey, Ravi.”

“I guess you’re still alive if you can answer the phone.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me,” Goku answered, sounding so damned amused.

“He’s a mixed-up kid with a gun, and you’re not immortal.”

“Right.”

“Do you need me to go over there and rearrange your face?”

“Not really. So I’m fine. Hey, could you check in on Sam tomorrow since I have to work? Just to make sure he’s okay.”

Ravi didn’t bother to ask Goku if he trusted the kid not to steal anything because he obviously did. Goku could come off as spacey, but he didn’t really need a keeper. “I’ll check, but I’m not gonna wipe his ass for him or anything.”

“I thought you were into that, with the right person.”

“You’re funny.”

“Bye, Ravi.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You are a sucker,” Tim said from the bed.

“You ever hate being right all the time? Does it ever get old?”

“Never.”

Before Goku went out to work, he stopped at Sanzo’s side and watched him sleep for a few minutes. He looked so young. He looked so him. Goku couldn’t help feeling that if Sam hadn’t trusted him he wouldn’t still be sleeping, given his paranoia and hair-trigger nerves. In some things, Sanzo never changed.

Goku felt warm and full. He wanted to be here when... Sam woke up. But he had a job and responsibilities, even if those responsibilities involved getting people drunk. It still amazed him that he had a job, but still....

He turned away and left, happier knowing he had someone special to come home to.

Despite the crappy fold-out couch, Sam slept late and well. It confused him, because being inside and in a bed didn’t automatically mean he’d be able to rest. But he felt comfortable here.

At least he didn’t have that guy talking in his head constantly anymore, even though he still got little bits and pieces, really faint, that didn’t compare to the “Come find me, come west, come get me, where are you?” Sam had been trying to tune out for the last three months since his final prescription ran out. He still had enough of that link on to know that Goku had left for work before he even found the note.

Living here in the near-quiet could be better than trying to find a way to afford the meds, which Sam hadn’t even liked. They left him feeling so stupidly mellow and wrapped in thick cotton. Life with the edges sanded off hadn’t felt like life.

Goku kept his fridge really well stocked. As Sam sipped orange juice he made toast and bacon. Nice to have food he didn’t have to beg for, steal, or kill. He fucking hated rabbits.

Shouldn’t get too used to having things, though. Things never lasted.

So he had a place for the moment. Now he needed a job. College would have been nice but wouldn’t happen.

When Sam heard keys turning in the door, he felt outward a bit. Much as he hated it a lot of times, this whatever-he-had had gotten him away from trouble sometimes. Not Goku out there, but not unfamiliar either. He didn’t know, so he sat on the kitchen chair that faced the door and set his gun on his lap, ready to pull the trigger.

When the door opened, the tall, slutty-looking Indian guy with black and red hair Sam had seen yesterday paused in the doorway. “You have your gun aimed at me, don’t you, you little psycho.”

Sam didn’t let his surprise show. “So you know not to try anything.”

“Never stopped me before. You’re making yourself at home pretty quickly.”

“Goku won’t mind. I’ll be living here after all.”

Sam’s smirk only deepened at the look on the guy’s face and the “Say what?”

“I’m his new roommate.”

“Is he supporting you now?”

“I’ll get a job.”

“Doing what?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, that fills me with confidence. You’re 18 and from the middle of nowhere. Maybe Chicago’s fast food underworld will welcome you, but I doubt you have any other talents. Unless you’re gonna sell your ass on the street. Don’t need much talent for that. With your looks, you might get johns who could ignore your attitude.”

Unfortunately, the guy’s assessment of Sam’s job skills was pretty close, but Sam didn’t have to let him know that. “Do you have PMS, or are you always this pleasant?” He’d done some construction and renovation work too, so maybe he might look into that, since he didn’t want to work a grill or fryer again and didn’t have the right attitude to be a cashier. “Yeah, what do you do for a living, genius? Go-go dancing, bartending, selling your ass?”

“Bartender. But I have a degree.”

“Guess they’ll take anyone these days. In what, philosophy? Bachelor’s.” Sam smirked at the way the guy’s mouth twitched. The ability to pull information out of thin air could be damned useful, even though it had led to people forever asking him to find their books, keys, or remote controls. He learned to dread laundry days because his aunt would always ask him to hunt down missing socks. “You really wanted to piss your parents off, didn’t you? At least you still have yours. At least they can be proud of your brother and his career in information technology.”

“At least I don’t have to worry about bartending being outsourced to India, like that isn’t damned ironic! You--” The guy gaped. “When the hell did I wander into a Stephen King novel?”

“You can always leave and let me be weird by myself.”

“What’s your name?”

That came out of nowhere. “Huh?”

“I want to know the name of the guy sponging off of Goku.”

“I’m not sponging.”

“Yeah, yeah. Your name.”

Whatever. “Samuel Wojnarowski.”

“Woj-- What?”

“Like your family name isn’t several syllables long.”

“It’s ‘Sharma.’ Ravi Sharma,” he answered with a superior smirk.

Shit. It would be that short. “Whatever.”

“Great comeback.”

“If you can’t remember my name, you can’t use it for whatever bizarre thing you had in mind for it.”

Now Ravi looked pissed. Good.

Sam didn’t want to be bothered anymore. “You checked in on me, I’m still alive, and none of the silverware is stolen. You can go now. I’m gonna be going out to look for a job soon anyway.”

“Yeah. So you’re fine, and I’m out of here.” And he left, obviously angry and freaked out.

Sam used to get a lot of satisfaction out of freaking people out, but that was a long time ago. He kept doing it anyway because he was an idiot. Annoyed with himself, he started figuring out where he’d go to put job applications in. Given his age, level of education, and total lack of contacts, he probably would be asking if people wanted fries with that.

Goku had left him a newspaper, so maybe he could check the Help Wanted before going out. Maybe he wouldn’t have to go the “do you want to supersize that?” route. Happy that no one was around to see him with his dorky, thick-framed reading glasses, Sam put them on and started flipping through pages.

“I’m home,” Ravi said and gave his honey a kiss. He’d miss doing that when Tim started to work full-time again.

“Did you get what I asked for?”

“Yeah, I heard the kid’s name. Unfortunately, it’s some long, twisted Polish thing I can’t remember quite right. Good luck on spelling it too. It’s like ‘Wojna-something-or-other.’” But then Tim grabbed him and kissed him, and the name tumbled right out afterward: “Wojnarowski. How the hell did you get me to do that? And you better not do it with your students.”

The professor looked very smug. “Only the ones I really like.”

And people called him a tease. “Hmph. What do you need his name for, anyway?”

“I’ll tell you if it works out.” Tim had that “This may be slightly evil but it’s actually in your best interests, heh heh” look on his face that always did alarming things to Ravi’s heart rate. He’d always liked his guys to be at least a little bit dangerous.

Maybe Tim was trying to find a way to make Blondie more self-supporting. Ravi didn’t worry about the kid sending Goku into bankruptcy, since Goku had a lot of disposable cash from somewhere, but he didn’t want Goku to be taken advantage of.

Goku sat on his favorite spot in Chicago, a branch of the largest tree he’d found here, and grinned as he let his legs swing. People kept making fun of him at work all day for how happy he looked but he couldn’t care, not when he had Sanzo again.

“You gotta stop doing that happy dance thing.” Sam stood at the foot of the tree staring up at Goku. “Or I swear I’ll deck you.”

Speaking of.... “Happy dance?”

“In my head I keep getting this ‘happy happy, joy joy’ thing from you. It feels like dancing around, like you’re fucking shaking your booty. I keep reacting to it so people keep looking at me strangely. So stop it.”

“I didn’t think I was doing anything.”

Right now Sam’s eyes had the color of faded summer leaves, like an originally dark green bleached by the sun to a lighter shade. Sam’s time walking the roads had left sun-bleached blond streaks of varying shades in his hair, while Sanzo’s had somehow stayed golden through years of travel, only getting bleached bits as they reached India. It still amazed Goku that the very pale-skinned Sanzo hadn’t caught fire during all the time they’d traveled through deserts.

As Sanzo’s hair had silvered, Gojyo couldn’t help making more “old man” jokes and getting beaten and nearly shot to death for them. Sanzo had claimed that Gojyo and Goku were making him go white.

“Hmph.” Instead of yelling at Goku to get down, Sam climbed the tree and found a nearby branch of his own to sit on. Sam liked to climb trees! “What are you doing up here, anyway?” As he sat he swung his legs a little, making the laces on his beaten-up combat boots sway.

“I like the view, and people can’t bother me.”

“I get that.” Sam took a shiny red apple out of his backpack and took a big, juicy bite out of it.

That looked so good, and Goku was so hungry.... “That looks really tasty.”

“I got it from your kitchen.” Sam kept eating. “I’ll pay you back if anyone ever hires me. My writing hand’s cramped from all the damned applications.”

“You can pay me back now by giving me some of that apple.”

“You should have gotten dinner somewhere.”

“But I didn’t, and you’re right here with an apple.” Taunting him with the vision of firm, juicy flesh and Sam’s mouth and white teeth working on it.... Goku didn’t really think. He jumped over to Sam’s branch and... kind of tried to take apple bits out of Sam’s mouth. Eyes closed, Goku just tasted and felt, tasted sweet apple and bitter cigarettes and felt Sanzo stiffen against him in surprise--it felt like Sanzo!--then relax a little, sweet, before clenching up again. Warm and alive and there and young....

Goku opened his eyes to see Sam staring at him wide-eyed. Yeah. Because Goku had just come up in his face and tried to clean the inside of his mouth. Still sat just about groin to groin with him now.

“Uhm,” Goku said.

“I’m not paying for the apartment like... that. I’m not like that,” Sam finally said, though he still looked stunned. “And I’m not letting you eat food out of my mouth either.”

Eating food out of his love’s mouth sounded like the most erotic thing ever to Goku--Sanzo always had great ideas--but he had to focus because what Sam was saying was important. “Sorry. I was really hungry and just about raised by wolves.”

“Uh-huh.”

Somewhat panicked, Goku said, “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do!”

“Can you prove it by getting the fuck off of me!” It sounded part Sanzo, part panic.

“Yeah! Sorry.” Goku jumped back to his own branch. As Sam climbed back down the tree, Goku said, “You don’t have to go. I’ll behave!”

“Leave me alone for a while! I’ll show up at the apartment when I feel like it.”

Goku didn’t want to leave him alone but figured that hanging on to him wouldn’t help here. Shit. He’d have to give Sam some time.

Goku knew better and had gotten less impulsive over the years but seeing the most Sanzo-like Sanzo he’d had since forever had made him go all stupid kid. Still, Sam had liked it for a moment; Goku could swear to it. He’d moved much too quickly into Sam’s personal space, but he had a talent for wearing Sanzo down.

Though he usually dealt with a lot of yelling and hitting before the wearing down went into full effect.

Shit. He needed to talk to Hakkai and Gojyo. They had a gift for steadying him.

Yeah, Sam had really needed his life to get more surreal. Fuck.

He couldn’t say that past lives might not exist, not considering what he could do. His ability or whatever might not provide proof of past lives, but it didn’t go too far or deep into things. He’d taken Mom’s rosary beads because they’d felt like her, but the longer he had them the less they felt like her and the more they felt like him. Grandpa’s dog tags had shown Sam all kinds of interesting places once but now they also tasted more of Sam than of Grandpa. Hopefully keeping the gun over time would layer more of him over it so he wouldn’t get any more tastes of that bastard trucker he’d taken it from.

Probably. Life seemed to be all about laying new stuff over the old until the old vanished and was forgotten. At least so Sam hoped, since somebody had to have found the corpse by now. It wasn’t like he could hide the man’s truck that well. He didn’t actually dare carry the gun around much since any cop who got a hold of it would trace it back to that corpse. When he’d walked the roads as a runaway he could have said he carried a gun for protection, but he doubted that would fly in Chicago for a kid with a steady home.

It might have been safer and smarter to clean off the gun and drop it in a river somewhere a long way back, but once he had it, he couldn’t let it go. It spoke to something inside him, which was weird since his experience was with rifles, not handguns.

Killing had been surprisingly easy, dealing with it and fucking up the evidence much less so.

Anyway, maybe Sam had known Goku from some time before and just couldn’t see that far back.

But he really doubted that anybody he’d ever been would let someone lick food out of his mouth.

He’d been kind of kissed by a guy, which wasn’t anything like what that trucker had tried and Sam had killed him for. Sam didn’t know what to think of it, having passed up most experience in kissing. Girls had been willing, and there hadn’t been much to do in his small backwater town aside from drink, get high, and/or fuck, but he just hadn’t wanted anyone that close to him. He didn’t want or need anybody.

He should probably be worried that he didn’t feel utterly repulsed right now. Did some past him and Goku--

Not worth thinking about.

Tim had never played cards so much in his life before meeting Ravi, which only made Ravi crazier that he won so often. It was cute. Card games had more applications than Tim had previously realized. For example, right now Goku had come to them to play a game but really wanted to talk... casually. It was easier to be offhand when everyone had a hand of cards to look at and strategy to work on.

“I’m surprised the kid isn’t with you,” Ravi said.

“He needed some time alone,” Goku said as he ran his free hand through his long spiky brown hair. Sometimes Tim swore he could see a small glint of gold-colored metal in it near his face, but then hair covered it again.

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing! He’s just--”

“Sensitive and touchy, but that doesn’t explain why you’re upset, so spill.”

“I kissed him.”

Ravi laughed. “You move fast.”

“Too fast!”

“Duh, monkey boy. How was he?”

“Pervert.”

“Him?”

“You! And it was just a kiss. Kind of a kiss.”

“How could it be ‘kind of a kiss’?” Tim had to ask.

“I was tonguing bits of apple out of his mouth.”

Ravi almost exploded with shock and evil glee. “And you call me a freak?”

“You are a freak!”

“So how was he?”

Goku’s expression softened. “Sweet before he freaked out.”

Ravi smiled fondly. “I wondered what he’d be like without the snapping defenses and fear. Nice.”

“You’re a romantic,” Tim answered. He was.

“I like people to be happy. That’s why I became a bartender.”

“You sacrifice yourself nobly.”

“Don’t wanna hear about it, Timmeh. So the suicide blond can be sweet. Cool. Goku, you got to work on him carefully so you can be like me and the professor. Having your own guy has all kinds of benefits.” Ravi grabbed Tim and sat him on his lap. “Like cuddling and petting and kissing and....”

“I don’t think Sam’s the type,” Goku answered.

“I’m not quite the type either,” Tim said as he tried to evade Ravi’s tickling hands. Bastard. He’d never live down Ravi finding his ticklish spots. Ravi couldn’t remember garbage days but his memory for weak spots and embarrassing moments was second to none.

“Anyway, Goku,” Ravi said while Tim tried to get off his lap, “you couldn’t help yourself. I mean, if you’ve known Blondie in other lives you remember, of course you’re gonna get personal with him quickly. You know him. Problem is that he doesn’t know you. Also, that he carries a gun.”

“You’re not just making fun of me, are ya? I’d have to smack you if you were.”

“Your whole thing about knowing him in a past life is weird, but you’re weird, so okay. It’s just him you knew?”

Goku suddenly looked much more interested in his cards. “Actually, I knew you guys too.”

Surprised, Tim stopped struggling to get away from his too exuberant lover, while Ravi smiled. “So, what, have Tim and me always been joined at the hip too?”

“Just about. You’re a pervert, so even when you’re just friends it’s friends with benefits.”

“And some people say I’m fickle.”

Tim tried to imagine it, life upon life upon life. With Ravi showing up at his side as his partner at some point in one form or another. Tim couldn’t quite believe in the concept of reincarnation, endless chances to get things right or wrong, but if it meant a small eternity of comfortable, happy moments like he’d known lately, he wanted to. He’d felt something missing in his life until Ravi had shown up in that alley.

“I like Sam,” Goku said suddenly. “Usually I don’t get to him before he’s old or bitter or trapped in some position of authority where he’s not allowed to be free. Right now he’s... young and he hasn’t gotten too trapped in some idea of dignity or responsibility yet. I’m really happy about that.”

“He seems like the type who makes things harder on himself,” Ravi said.

“It’s part him and part life. I want to give him a good life.”

“I don’t think Sam’s the type who’s okay with being a kept boy. And I would kick your ass if you kept him like that.”

“You could try.”

Tim hoped to make Sam’s life better. It depended on what his research and contacts turned up. His wound recuperation time while away from Ravi was so dull that he welcomed having a project.

Sam opened the door at that moment and said, “You’re talking about me.”

“You’re an egotistical little bastard,” Ravi replied.

“Doesn’t make me wrong.”

“Are we okay?” Goku asked, suddenly seeming much younger.

“Yeah. Just don’t jump me again.” Sam looked comfortable among them, as if he’d known them for a long time instead of since just yesterday.

“Are you hungry? I could make something.”

“I’m never eating an apple in front of you again.”

“Something else!”

“Make something for me too,” Ravi said.

“I’m not feeding you,” Goku answered.

“You’re feeding him.”

“He’s too skinny.”

“Food is love?” Ravi asked with a smirk.

“I told you not to push--” Goku stood up. “I’m gonna kick your ass!”

Ravi also stood up, which finally freed Tim from his octopus clutches and restless hands. There was a time and place for restless hands. “You and what army, chimp?”

They could be such boys sometimes. Their playful spats could cause some damage, though.

To Tim’s amusement, Sam smacked the backs of their heads hard with a thick, rolled-up magazine and said, “I’m allergic to idiocy, so quit it.”

“What the hell was that?” Ravi asked.

“Home Cooking. It has a nice heft.”

“I can’t believe you hit me.”

“You were being an idiot. If it’s such a big fucking deal, I’ll make my own dinner.” When Sam turned away to walk to the kitchen, Tim noticed a huge grin break out on Goku’s face and saw it disappear when Sam turned again to face them to wave a butter knife at them. “I’m making a tomato sandwich. You want one, Goku, Tim?”

“I’ll have a sandwich!” Goku said.

“What about me?” Ravi asked.

“You don’t deserve a sandwich,” Sam said with a smirk.

“I checked on you this morning.”

“To insult me. Do you even really want a tomato sandwich?”

“He’s allergic to tomatoes,” Tim had to say.

“Oh. Now I have to make him a tomato sandwich.”

“Funny kid,” Ravi said. “Are you gonna be able to taste any tomatoes with all that mayonnaise you’re slathering on?”

“I like mayonnaise.”

Anyone who knew Ravi knew that he flirted and ogled because they were like breathing to him, essential to his existence. He couldn’t help his reaction to people he considered beautiful, and Tim accepted it. After all, Ravi might appreciate others, but once he settled with someone into an actual relationship, he settled down. Goku had confirmed it. But Ravi’s appreciative looks at Sam didn’t seem like the usual ones, nor did the teasing. There was something different and more there.

Goku said that he’d known Ravi and Tim before and that Tim and Ravi had known each other. Did that mean that they’d all known Sam in the past? Was there history there?

Tim resolved not to be suspicious or jealous. But he would watch carefully.

Sam was attractive in his scruffy and almost feral way. Tim could understand Ravi’s fascination, although Tim would feel the need to groom and care for the boy a bit before he’d try anything.

Oh. He was thinking of trying something. That gave him less moral high ground on Ravi.

“Ravi, don’t use the beer cans as ashtrays,” Tim said.

“Eep. Sorry.”

“You have him trained,” Sam said, which made Ravi growl.

“But it never lasts,” Goku answered.

Sam made an excellent sandwich, though a lot of it was that Goku bought excellent food. They played a few more rounds of poker, Sam included, with Ravi occasionally whining comically about how hungry he was and Sam wondering aloud if tomato allergies could make a guy’s tongue swell and eyes bug out.

Eventually, Sam asked, “Why the hell do you play if Tim wins 98% of the time?” as he pushed his small pile of pretzel sticks toward Tim.

“Tradition,” Goku answered.

“I want to put him on one of those cable poker shows. He’d win big,” Ravi said.

“I get the feeling that my luck would change if I used it for crass commercial purposes,” Tim said with a small smile.

“There’s nothing crass about money and fame!”

“I have to differ.”

“You would.”

“At least we’re not playing for money,” Sam muttered.

“True,” Tim answered, “and I share my winnings. I wouldn’t want to be a pig. Besides, you don’t need to see my pile of winnings to know that I’m whipping your asses. It’s obvious.”

“Yeah, but you only share the pretzels. I want M&Ms.”

“I save those for Ravi and myself.”

“See what putting out gets you?” Ravi said with a grin as he lit up another clove cigarette and offered a light to Sam. Sam leaned in close with his cigarette in his mouth to get it, then said, “If I’m not putting out to pay the rent, I’m sure as hell not putting out for a few M&Ms.”

Goku nearly choked on a pretzel stick.

As they walked through the hallway to his apartment, Ravi had to ask, “What do you think about that whole past lives thing?”

“It seems unlikely, although Sam certainly is surprisingly comfortable with us already. Anyway, it would be difficult to prove,” Tim answered.

“Goku has enough weirdness swimming around him that it seems more likely, don’t ya think?”

Tim smiled. “Maybe.”

“It’s... when I saw you in that alley.... I don’t know. I just know that I couldn’t let you go. And I’ve never been much for fighting, but I kicked ass like I’d been doing it all my life. That suggests something maybe.” The thought of the two of them hooking up together, hopefully being this happy together, life after life gave Ravi a warm kind of feeling.

“Maybe.”

“It’s not much of a conversation when one person’s doing all the talking.”

“I feel like I’ve known you my whole life,” Tim said quietly. “And that it’s a good thing. Yet it feels new too, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” If past lives did exist, it didn’t seem to get rid of that first rush of new love/lust between them. Thank God.

“I don’t have any answers for this.”

“Me neither.”

Tim pressed Ravi against the door, body to body. “I wonder if the sex has always been this good?”

“C’mon, Professor, it’s me.”

“...I wonder if you’ve always been such an egotist.”

“I wonder if you’ve always been such a tease. I wonder if I’ll get fucked tonight.”

“That I can answer. Yes.”

Ravi grinned. “Thank God.”

“Thank me.”

“Now’s who the egotist?”

Sam wondered why the hell you always had to spend money before you could start making money. He’d just bought a tie, two pairs of pants, two nice dress shirts, and dress shoes in case tomorrow’s appointment at the temp agency led to something. He could type and use a computer and knew his alphabet, so maybe he could find something that paid better than minimum wage.

It had to be better than Starbucks, where he was putting in an application now. He couldn’t help thinking that if he got hired he’d snap one day and start yelling, “It’s just fucking coffee!” It’d probably happen within the first week.

A woman nearby babbled on her cell phone about some missing report her boss was going to kill her over. Did he want to have the petty problems of her life assaulting his ears? Hell no. He hated cell phone users, the exhibitionists.

An image of the ugliest, kitschiest paperweight ever hit his mind. He looked down to see that his pen had skidded within the box for his most recent job experience. She’d made him mess up his application a bit. Yes, hire him, the applicant prone to seizures. That was just what you wanted in someone who served you scalding hot coffee.

“--and I don’t know what I’ll doooooo,” she loudly whined.

“The Johnson report is under that ugly frog paperweight on your desk,” Sam snarled. “You didn’t see it because you put some recent statements over it. Now will you shut up?”

She blinked at him, then asked, “How the hell do you know what’s on my desk?” Anyone who hadn’t started staring at them after he spoke had their attention grabbed now.

“I’m psychic,” he snapped, tossed his application in the trash, and walked out, seeing no point in submitting it now. Seeing no point in submitting applications anywhere else today, not while he had this expression on his face, he put his headphones on and blasted music to try to drown out anything invading his head during his walk home.

Almost as soon as he walked into the apartment the phone rang. Goku told him he could and should answer calls since he lived there and had various applications in everywhere, so he picked up. “Hello?”

“Blondie, we may have a gig for you tonight,” Ravi said.

“I would sooner bite off my tongue and swallow it than let you be my pimp.”

“You’re cute. Love you too. Nah, come down to the Fifty-eight.” After a sudden murmur, the voice switched to Goku’s. “It’ll be cool, Sam,” Goku said. “You’ll see.”

“I’m underage.”

“So we won’t let you drink or smoke in public. We have a good idea, and it will help us and you.”

The phone call must have come now because Goku had felt him come home, the thought of which gave Sam the shudders, but he said, “Fine. I’m coming. Let me grab dinner first.”

“Nah, we’ll feed you! The Fifty-eight has a great brick oven for pizza.”

“All right.”

Goku met him at the door to the Fifty-eight with a big grin and a slice of pizza on a paper plate and let him inside. As Sam ate his pizza he approved of the lounge’s dimness and look of broken-in comfort. It didn’t have the clutter of kitsch that tainted a lot of places these days. Ravi stood behind the bar looking as if he’d been born there, while Tim sat nearby.

“You didn’t tell me he was a kid,” a wiry white-haired guy who was maybe in his 50s said. Sam didn’t underestimate him, remembering how his mellow grandfather could still kick people’s asses.

“Sam’s an old soul,” Ravi said.

“Has he done anything like this before?”

“Not as an act per se.”

“We’re doomed. This is gonna be as stupid an idea as the one that made you strip on my bar that night.”

“It was a bet!”

“It was a disaster that could have gotten me shut down!” Had to be Bob, then, the boss.

“I’m not stripping,” Sam said.

“No, no, Ravi thought you could do a kind of psychic act,” Tim said. “The band scheduled for tonight had to break the date at the last moment.”

“The band has a lead singer who can’t handle his habit.”

“How would you know that?” Bob asked.

“Psychic,” Ravi drawled.

“Fine, he can say something like that all mysterioso, but can he do an act?”

“Define ‘act,’” Sam had to say, disliking the sound of this more and more.

“I figure we get audience members to contribute an item--which we will provide a claim ticket for,” Ravi said to forestall the old guy, “and our wonder boy will ‘read’ the item. Unless you’re too intimidated to go on stage.”

The thought of performing for a crowd sounded like the last thing he wanted to do, but he said, “I can do it. I’m just wondering if it’s worth my while.”

Bob shrugged. “No, it sounds far too cheesy. Besides, I don’t know you and neither does Chicago. It’s not like people are coming to see you. With the band I could have charged a cover, but not now.”

“I can get people to pay for it,” Ravi said. “Just watch me.”

“I have confidence in both their abilities,” Tim said to Bob.

“All right,” Bob said. “I’ll trust you, Tim, even if choosing Ravi shows that your sense of judgment isn’t perfect.”

“Hey!” Ravi protested.

“I get to see a side of Ravi you don’t,” Tim answered.

“I’m happy keeping it that way,” Bob said.

Ravi struck a dramatic pose. “So cruel. But stick around, Sam. You’ll be doing your routine in no time.”

Sadly, he had nothing better to do with his time. “Fine.”

“I’ll keep you company,” Tim said cheerily.

Bob put a bright orange plastic strip around Sam’s wrist, prompting him to ask, “What the hell is this?”

“It shows that we know you’re too young to drink, kid.”

This day kept getting better. Taking over bar duties, Goku shot him a sympathetic look and handed him a cup of ice water.

Watching Ravi, Tim had to say that his boyfriend knew how to work a crowd, walking up to customers at their tables looking charming, friendly, and very attractive as he chatted them up. “He missed his calling.”

“There are several street corners out there waiting for him,” Sam answered as he ate a slice of pizza.

Irritated, Tim said, “You have a nasty mouth.”

“I got a nastier mind.”

“And an answer for everything.”

“If I had an answer for everything, I wouldn’t be sitting here waiting to see if your boyfriend can convince people to pay me to make a fool of myself.”

“I won’t tolerate you insulting him.” To underscore his point, Tim ignored Sam after that, saying nothing further.

After a while, Sam asked, looking nearly forlorn yet angry with himself for it, “What if he insults me first?”

Tim remembered then how feral Sam had seemed that first day and thought of some of the teachers’ notes included in his school transcripts. Highly intelligent but not well socialized had been the general consensus. Teachers had broadly hinted that his being an orphan grudgingly taken in by relatives didn’t help. Tim also got the feeling that some pieces had been omitted from public record.

Tim relented. “Then you have every right to strike back.” He didn’t want to leave the boy unarmed against Ravi anyway. Sam just needed structure.... “Have you thought about going to college?”

“On what, my good looks? I don’t have any money.”

“There are scholarships.” Sam’s grades hadn’t been spectacular enough to attract most scholarships, but there were ways.

“Uncle said I was too blond to get most of them.”

“Anyone ever tell your uncle he’s a racist?”

“Since he used to smack me around for mouthing off, my guess is no.” Sam’s face took on a more stubborn set. “I got tired of fighting every day, so I stopped talking. I’ll talk now, all right?”

Tim didn’t know what to say to that disclosure and to what was both a challenge and an apology for Sam’s nasty mouth. Finally he said, “Surely you had someone good back home.”

“I lived with my grandpa for three years first. Great guy. He taught me to fish.” Sam smirked. “Gave me my first taste of beer. That was his car I would have taken with me if the second transmission hadn’t blown. He willed it to me, said whoever took care of me could use it until I reached the age where I could legally drive it myself.”

A bribe so someone would take the boy in. “He was a good man.”

“Yeah. I miss him.” Sam glanced over his shoulder as Ravi pointed him out to another group. “I hate that.”

“Not all attention is negative.”

“A lot of it is.”

Ten minutes later Ravi came up, beaming, to his boss and said, “I have a commitment for $75 from the crowd to see our boy wonder amaze them for an hour. This one chick in particular was really hot to see him do his thing. Good enough?”

“$55 of it would have to be mine,” his boss answered.

Sam didn’t look happy but finally said, “I’ll do it for $20. One hour or until the items run out, whichever comes first?”

“Yeah.”

“All right. But I won’t be the one taking money and items from the crowd.”

“Leave it all to me,” Ravi said.

“I’d be scared to hear that too,” Goku said.

Ravi quickly set everything up, grinning so widely all the while that Tim wondered if he had mischief in mind. Silly question. When Sam stepped up onto the stage, Ravi introduced him with “As promised, here to peel the veil of secrets away and answer your questions, fresh from his home in the middle of nowhere in the Appalachian Mountains where he was trained by a blind witch, heeeeeere’s Sam.”

“You make it sound like I should be playing the banjo with my bare feet,” Sam growled back, audible to the audience.

“Hey, if you can do that I’ll ask the crowd how much they’d pay to see it.”

“I don’t.”

“Can you do balloon animals?” one guy from the first row asked loudly.

Looking annoyed, Sam answered, “No, but I can do shadow puppets.” Twisting his fingers along with his words, he said, “Look, a bunny, a horse, a dog.” He flipped his middle finger up alone and directed it toward the wit in the audience. “A dick. Can we get this started so I can finish?”

The crowd laughed, probably thinking it to be part of his act. Grinning, Ravi handed him a box filled with items. Each item had a numbered clothespin attached as part of the claim so people would get their own belongings back. Ravi did an exaggerated bow to Sam, then left the stage.

“This isn’t a science. Sometimes I don’t see much. Sometimes I don’t see what you’re asking for.” Sam took a deep breath and reached in, pulling out a small ticket. “Your boyfriend went out to see a band and enjoyed the show. The girl he’s with isn’t you.”

“I knew it!” a woman yelled from the crowd.

“Good luck having that stick with your boyfriend if you tell him that you know he’s cheating because a psychic told you.” Next was a ring. “A bit risky putting this in here. Oh. Not as risky as I thought. These are really good cubic zirconias.”

Ravi laughed when a woman smacked her boyfriend’s arm very hard.

People hadn’t expected to see a psychic reader tonight, so the box mostly contained items people had already been carrying with them: keys, receipts, bills, letters, makeup, photos. From those Sam spun tales: siblings hiding out, cheating spouses, unsolicited manuscripts put into SASEs without even being glanced at, friends trying to get in contact. Once Sam said that Doodles, evidently some kind of plush thing, could be found under the living room couch. The crowd laughed at his surly persona but as the readings went on a light undercurrent of fear could be felt in the room. Sam knew too much.

He seemed to be aware of the crowd’s growing disquiet from his increasingly defensive posture. Ravi and especially Goku noticed too.

Now only one item remained, a ragged-edged photo, and Tim could swear that Sam had deliberately passed it by several times. He picked it up now... and quickly put it back down and said, “I can’t tell you what you want to know from this. I know that you love her very much from this, but I can’t tell you who took her or why.”

“Will this be better?” a woman yelled from the audience and held out a terrycloth-covered rattle shaped vaguely like a duckie. “It was left behind.”

“That’s the chick I got the most money from,” Ravi murmured. “I should have known something was up.”

“If you’ve been carrying it all this time I might not be able to get anything,” Sam said. “I might not be able to see anything in general.”

“Please,” she replied.

“He doesn’t want to do this,” Goku said, looking ready to vault over the bar to get to his side.

“You have to try!” she said, and the crowd loudly agreed with her.

“Shit. I don’t like this,” Ravi said, “but I don’t see how we can stop it without it getting even more ugly. Sorry, boss.”

“I should have known,” Bob said. “The moment you come up with something....”

“Yeah, yeah. Damn it.”

Sam took the rattle and closed his eyes. After a minute he clenched his teeth and his hands started to shake. The rattle made an unsettling sound, raising the hairs on the back of Tim’s neck. Magic here, or something close to it. Before tonight, he could smile and smirk over Sam’s weirdly dead-on talk or the whole bit about previous lives. Right now, he felt an atavistic fear.

Amazingly, Goku leapt over the bar and landed perfectly on his feet, then jumped up onto the stage with Sam and grabbed him. Sam snapped a sentence at him that wasn’t in English, which shocked Goku for a moment but then made him hold on tighter.

Looking exhausted, Sam opened his eyes and said, “The woman who took her wanted her for her pretty blue eyes. Never seen eyes so blue. She’s going to pass her off as her own daughter. That’s all I know.”

“What did she look like?”

“She wasn’t thinking about that for the moment she held the rattle, and your baby daughter isn’t a good eyewitness. Look, I’m sorry. I’m not playing around with you on this. I really didn’t get anything else.”

The crowd, formerly shocked to silence, started to murmur angrily. “Shit,” Ravi said. Goku took the microphone, said, “It’s over, people. He’s done. Have a good night,” and dragged a dazed Sam off the stage with such anger and determination that no one had the courage to stop him. As Goku passed Ravi, he said, “I’m taking Sam home. You can finish off my shift without taking my pay since this was your idea.”

“You didn’t object--”

“Blah blah. We’re out of here, and you’re taking my shift.”

“What did he say to you? I don’t know the language but it sounded kind of Asian, you seem to be at least a bit Asian, and you obviously understood it.”

Goku still looked pissed but answered, “He said, ‘You always hang on to me.’”

When Goku took Sam out the door, Ravi said, “Shit,” but went behind the bar to take over and Bob called out Happy Hour prices to placate the crowd.

“I’m sure Sam will be okay,” Tim told Ravi.

“Yeah.” But Ravi, great heart that he had, looked worried.

To Goku’s great happiness and almost pride, Sam ate everything Goku put in front of him. Could it be possible that Sam didn’t have Sanzo’s control and food issues? That would be great.

“I didn’t think it would turn out like that,” Goku said in apology. Some protector he was.

“Nobody did,” Sam answered as he lit up a cigarette and took in a deep drag. “I agreed to it like an idiot. Fuck. My head’s killing me. I’m not doing any more of this psychic shit for anyone.” He tapped his fingers against the table and said, “Thanks. For helping me get out of there. I could’ve done it on my own, but... thanks.”

Goku wanted to melt. “Sure. No problem.”

“Sam, it’s for you,” Goku said and waved the phone under Sam’s nose.

“Huh?” Sam pulled the sheets down and gazed blearily at the phone. His head still hurt.

“Phone call.”

“Mmm.” Sam took the phone. “Hello?”

“Samuel?”

“Yes.” Could whoever she was get to the point so he could go back to sleep?

“I’m the woman from Starbucks yesterday. You found the Wilson report for me.”

That woke him up fast. “How did you get this number?”

“I had one of the employees take your application out of the trash.”

Shit. She had his name, number, address.... “Why would you want it?”

“We have some missing things we’d appreciate someone finding.”

“My method isn’t guaranteed.”

“It’s better than what we have now. We want to hire you for today and maybe for a bit tomorrow, depending on the work we need done and how quickly you go through it. Some admin, a lot of filing, a little of your method. You won’t have to answer phones.”

He could very easily get screwed over agreeing to this. “I can’t do that.”

She didn’t sound discouraged at all. “Are you with a temp agency?”

He hadn’t even gone there yet, but he had a name and phone number for the person he was supposed to see today. “Yeah.”

“We’ll ask for you for a temporary admin job. It will all be legal.”

He’d get paid temp admin rates for his psychic abilities. He really didn’t want to do this.... “I don’t think so.”

“We’ll make sure you get an hourly fee above the average, since you’ll be doing more than simple admin.”

It was better than anything else he had going. “All right. I think you have to negotiate that with my agency, and then if I accept I have to let them tell you I accept.” He told her the agency’s name. Carolyn, his possible rep-to-be there, might not even agree to this, which gave him an out.

“I’ll talk to you later. Goodbye.”

“What was that?” Goku asked as Sam handed back the phone.

“I may have a temp job.” No way he was telling Goku about the psychic stuff he’d be doing, though, not after his declaration last night.

When Carolyn called to ask him about the job, she sounded surprised and confused that they’d asked for him by name, but he didn’t bother to explain it. Carolyn saw nothing wrong with their offer and decided that her agency would take him on. Well, yeah, since he was bringing money in for them before she’d even interviewed him.

“When you go in, get their fax number,” Carolyn said. “I need to send you some paperwork. Fill it out and bring it to my office after you’re finished there for the day so you can get paid. You should also make sure your supervisor there signs your timesheet before you leave. Where did you catch their interest, anyway?”

“Starbucks, actually.”

“You did the right thing by letting me take over on salary and terms. You’re not eligible to negotiate your own terms.”

It sounded like a crock to Sam, but he figured that working through an agency increased the chances of him actually getting paid. Too many people saw a lone teen as something to be exploited.

The woman he met in Starbucks wanted him to start work immediately today, so he ran for the shower.

Goku was at work for about an hour when Kougaiji’s band walked in and asked to see his boss. They weren’t really Kougaiji, Yaone, Dokugakuji, and Lirin anymore, but enough of the original personalities remained to make them really uncomfortable for Goku to be around. He noticed that the junkie lead singer, who’d only gotten his karma connected to theirs about a hundred years ago, wasn’t with them. From what Goku had seen that guy had been a fuckup in every life too.

It had made Goku sad to see the Kougaiji group’s first reincarnations because they’d all died so young, at least by the standards of the youkai lifespans they should have had. After the Minus Wave humans couldn’t trust youkai anymore, and there’d been genocidal campaigns for the next three decades. Gojyo and Hakkai had died in one, Gojyo while protecting a youkai woman and child and Hakkai because he just lost it when he found Gojyo’s corpse. Last time Goku had been in that part of China he’d still very easily found the indent of the crater.

He was so happy the woman and baby had gotten away before Hakkai had found Gojyo. In Hakkai’s state of mind, he might have killed them in an insane rage.

Gojyo and Hakkai had been so sad, so Goku was glad they’d both been human in every life afterward. Half-breed, Gojyo had been aging faster, and Hakkai had gotten more quiet and miserable about it as time went on.

Still, Gojyo hadn’t aged as quickly as Sanzo had....

“Hey!” Robbie, who’d been Lirin once upon a time, said. “Earth to Goku! Why do you always look so sad when we visit?”

“Maybe because you’re wasting our time,” the Dragon said. So weird to have him around as a human after he’d been a dragon of some kind or another for ages.

“We came to apologize for last night,” Chris/Kougaiji said. Kougaiji’s current body vaguely resembled Gojyo’s current body, which freaked Goku out for the number of lives in which that had happened. “It won’t happen again.”

“We kicked him out!” Robbie said.

“Because he was a junkie?” the Dragon asked.

“How did you-- So that replacement you had on for us last night really is psychic?” Chris answered.

“His name is Sam, and yes he is,” Goku answered.

“Actually, we came to apologize and ask if we could have a kind of talent search here one night. We need a new singer. I think people would be interested, since American Idol is so popular. It would get people talking about us too.”

“Do people get to vote?” the Dragon asked.

“Probably.”

“What will you do if people voted someone in you didn’t like?” Goku asked.

“We’re still thinking about that.”

“Sam is a great singer,” Goku had to say. Sanzo always had a voice that commanded attention.

“Yeah? What’s he done? Has he worked with anyone?”

Shit. “He sings in the shower.”

“Wow. We should hire him right away.”

“You wouldn’t know a good singer if one came up to you and bit your ass. Look how long you stuck with your junkie.” It was a dumb idea anyway. Sanzo fronting Kougaiji’s band! They’d bitch each other to death.

“Ravi’s not on shift yet, huh?” Ted asked, maybe trying to keep the peace. Gojyo and Dokugakuji often ended up as acquaintances or relatives in their various lives. Ted was Ravi’s friend here, though something of a flake.

Kougaiji’s people often found one another. So did Hakkai and Gojyo, and Dokugakuji and Gojyo, and Goku found most of them. How come Sanzo got cut off from everyone in so many lives?

“Hey, Goku!” Ted said. “You’re spacier than usual today.”

“Ravi’s not on shift yet.”

“I have to give him this mix CD eventually.”

“You can leave it with me.”

“Nah. I wanna see him.”

“So?” Chris asked the Dragon.

“I’ll think about it. I lost a lot of money last night.”

“We lost money too.”

Two people walked in. One moved like a cop though he wasn’t dressed in a uniform. Goku had learned to spot them over the years. The other was the woman from last night who’d wanted Sanzo to find her baby. “Shit,” Goku said.

The Dragon, seeing them and coming to the same conclusions, said, “I’ll kill Ravi.”

“You’ll have to wait in line.”

“I don’t think I can make this one go away. Not with a baby involved.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

Chris and his band had miraculously disappeared. That was the other thing about Sanzo not being able to mix with Kougaiji’s group: you couldn’t rely on them to back you up. They would do nice things for you if it helped them or they felt like it, but they were only loyal within themselves, always had their own goals, and would turn on you if it helped them. Sanzo talked a good game about nonattachment but refused to work long-term with people who could vanish like smoke when you needed them most. He knew it wasn’t good for your health.

Watching the Dragon talking to the cop and the lady, Goku felt his stomach turn. His chance to give Sanzo a happy, stable home might be vanishing like smoke too right now. Fuck it. Better to mix in so he knew what was going on instead of wondering and worrying about it. He walked over.

She looked surprised to see him. Did they change their minds about hiring him? “Is there a problem?” Sam asked.

“No! I just expected you to come in wearing glasses.” Was she blushing?

“They’re reading glasses.” He only wore the ugly things when he needed to read. Duh.

“Sure! Let me take you to the filing cabinets. People will come by during the day to ask you for help finding things.”

He idly wondered how she’d discussed his psychic abilities with them, then decided he didn’t want to know. “All right. Please tell me your fax number. My agency wants to send me some stuff.” All the asskissing made him want to choke.

After getting the fax number, calling his agency, and getting the stuff they wanted him to fill out faxed over, he put his glasses on and went to alphabetize the folders, finding it annoying and nearly mindless work. When he put the folders in the drawer, one end of them slid down towards the back, ruining his efforts. Actually, the folders already in there were all doing that and warping. He took a look inside.

Damn. People were morons. But he knew that. He took all the folders out and wrenched the drawer’s back bar out of the slots.

“What are you doing?” some guy asked.

“The bar is set too low, which is why all your folders were sliding down. I’m putting it back in at the proper height.”

“Oh. We were wondering why they did that. Those bars were already in here when we moved to this office.”

“When was that?”

“Two years ago.”

Morons. People were morons. Hadn’t anybody wondered? Thought to look? Taken the time to fix things? Obviously not.

Half the drawers had been set up like that, and he ended up fixing all of them, feeling ridiculous doing this in his office clothes. He got someone to get him pliers to let him take out the bars that had warped or rusted. The papers and folders cut his hands, while the bars left rust streaks. Whenever the homicidal thoughts became too strong he reminded himself that he was paid by the hour and the more time he spent filing the larger his paycheck. He had such a gift for paperwork that he kept doing it too quickly to make a profit anyway.

Throughout, people asked him questions, and he became so much a part of the office that he had answers for all of them. He didn’t even look up.

“Where’s the file for MC Construction?”

“Robert’s desk, left stack near his coffee cup, about halfway down.”

“Where’s the information for the insurance program?”

“Public folders in your e-mail, then go to the one labeled ‘employees,’ then go to the one labeled ‘Innoviant.’”

“Where did my youth go?” one wiseass asked.

“You frittered it away on useless things,” Sam answered, annoyed. Did none of these people ever file their own paperwork? “And you can find the new PO for Interior Works coming out of the fax machine right now.” The look of slight fear on the jerk’s face when he saw it coming out of the fax at that very moment made it almost worth it.

“What file number is this?” their tax person grumbled to herself.

“What is it?” Sam asked from his position on the floor yanking out the umpteenth bar.

“They rip away the rest of the sheets the customers send and leave me with the unknown, unlabelled job exemptions.”

He held out his hand, and she gave it to him. “It’s Office Solutions. I think it’s customer #3017564. Take it back.”

“Can we keep you?” she asked.

He hoped not, because he would be forced to kill somebody at this rate. “It’s not up to me.”

By the end of the day he had a killer headache and a hatred of paper. He’d already hated people. When he went to his supervisor, he said, “I did most of the filing you gave me, but some is still left.”

“Come back tomorrow. You did good work.”

He reminded himself that he needed money and work experience. “Thank you. Please sign my timesheet for the day.”

When he got home, the phone rang, and caller ID showed that it was from the Fifty-eight. Sam picked up. “Hello?”

“Sam, please come down here,” Goku said, sounding worried and a bit annoyed. “Don’t change, because you’ll make a better impression in your office clothes.”

Shit. Shit, something must have gone way wrong. He thought of running, but said, “Yeah, I’ll come in.” It sounded idiotic, but if Goku thought he was in real danger the weirdo wouldn’t be asking him to walk in to it. Better to face it and get it over with.