"Jack" Series, Part 1: Jack Arrives

Part 1:
Jack Arrives


1. Arrival

When Jack Obernikoch pulls into the long sweeping drive in front of Tiran’s house and stops by the front door, Rocky and Gabe are both waiting for him.  No household staff, Jack notes.  Perhaps as staff himself, he doesn’t warrant attention from the servants.

Rocky comes forward to open his car door.  "Welcome, Mr. Obernikoch.  It’s so good to see you."

Jack steps out of the car, leaving it running.  He ignores Rocky, looking past him to the door of the house.  "Who parks the cars?"

"I will, if I may sir?"  Rocky asks tentatively.

Jack nods, and heads up to the door Gabe is holding open for him.  "We’re so happy you’re here, sir," Gabe says shyly, as though he has to steel himself to speak.

Jack pauses in the doorway to glance back at the car, which is already pulling away.  "I’ll need my things."

"Of course, sir.  Is there anything you’d like now, or shall we take it all into your quarters?"

"Quarters?"  Jack stops and glowers at Gabe.  "What am I, a stable boy?"

"No – " Gabe protests quickly, with a sudden anxious look up at Jack.  "I’m so sorry, sir.  I meant your house.  That’s just what we’re used to calling it."

"House?"  Jack is puzzled now, frowning.  "What house?"

But he’s inside by this time, and Tiran appears suddenly out of an inner room.  "Jackie!"  Tiran greets him exuberantly, throwing open his arms, and Jack is enfolded in an enthusiastic hug.  He’s disarmed, as always, by Tiran, and distracted with questions about his trip, the traffic, their mutual friends, and what he wants to eat or drink.  Before he knows it, he’s ensconced on a deck at the back of the house overlooking the sea; Gabe has brought him a drink and trotted off for food, and Tiran is beside him, lighting a cigarette and grinning at him in a kind of happy conspiracy.

"Man, it’s gonna be great having you around, Jackie.  I’ve missed you.  Not to mention I think you’re just what my boys need," he adds with a sudden sternness that’s only half playful.

Jack grins back and is about to reply when he sees Tiran’s gaze shift past him to the french doors leading into the house.

"Isn’t that right, Rocky?" Tiran says.

Jack glances over his shoulder and sees Rocky slipping out the door.  For a large man with a football player’s build, Rocky seems to move gracefully, almost deferentially.

"Yes, Tiry.  I’m sure it is," Rocky says quietly, with a smile and a look into Tiran’s eyes that’s somehow intimate.

"Did you take Jack’s car over to the house?"  Tiran asks.

"Yes, boss."

"And unpack for him?"

"Oh, no, not yet."  Rocky looks at Tiran uncertainly.  "I thought – I thought we’d make sure the house met with Mr. Obernikoch’s approval first."

Jack frowns again, unconsciously.  He feels his nerves slightly on edge, despite Tiran’s enthusiastic welcome; like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Oh -- "  Tiran turns to look at Jack thoughtfully.  "Did they tell you, Jackie?  Rocky wants to give you his house."

Jack stares at him.  That’s when Gabe reappears, bearing a tray, and Rocky immediately joins him in setting up tables, putting out food and fresh drinks.

The distraction gives Jack a moment to recover.  He turns for a minute to watch the activity around him, then looks back at Tiran.

Tiran is exhaling languidly, watching him.  " … If that meets with your approval, of course," he adds gently.

"What house?" Jack asks, his voice suddenly harsh.  "Rocky has a house?  Where?"

Tiran glances at Rocky, and Rocky looks back at him questioningly for a moment.  Apparently getting some kind of go-ahead, Rocky says quietly to Jack, "It’s Tiran’s house, of course, sir.  He kindly built it for my use.  Now it seems … well, we thought – we hoped it might – meet your needs."

Jack feels the tension growing inside.  He glances swiftly at the faces around him.  Tiran looks interested, Rocky concerned – Gabe is expressionless, carefully emptying Tiran’s ashtray, intent on his work. 

"I thought I was living here with you, Ti," Jack says tightly.

"Oh, of course - you’re welcome to if you want, Jackie."  Tiran seems surprised.  "More than welcome.  The boys just thought you might prefer a little more of your own space."

Jack pauses for a moment, considering that, and wondering what the boys really thought.  "I don’t get it.  Where is this house?"

Rocky glances at Tiran again, but this time Tiran takes the question.  "It’s on the property.  Just next door, in the garden.  It’s not really a house so much, more like a small chalet.  Like an in-law suite."  Tiran chuckles a little, looking at Rocky as though the thought of Rocky as his in-law is a private joke.  "You don’t have to stay there of course – even if you decide to take it.  We assumed you’d spend most of your time hanging out over here with me.  But this way you’d just have a little bit of privacy or whatever, if you wanted a chance to get away from us.  Them.  Or me.  Whichever."  Tiran ends with a grin, and cocks an eyebrow at Jack disarmingly.

As usual, Tiran is winning Jack over.  Jack decides to hedge his bets, busies himself with the food in front of him.  It’s quite a spread, he notes.  Appetizers, canapé type things, hot fresh bread and dipping sauces.  He starts loading up his plate while he considers his next question.  "And if I don’t?"

"Well, then you’d stay here of course.  Gabe, which room did you make up?"

Gabe looks up.  "The Lavinia, sir.  As you directed."

"Oh yeah, of course.  It’s a suite," Tiran explains to Jack. 

Jack takes his time with the food, and Tiran picks up a plate himself.  They go on to chat about other things, catching up, making plans.  Social plans, nothing vaguely work-related as yet.  Tiran tells Jack about some of the places that are nearby, the things to do, the people they’ll hang out with.  His excitement is contagious and Jack feels himself starting to relax.

But he doesn’t fail to notice that Rocky has taken a chair and is listening in.  Tiran glances at him occasionally and gives him fleeting grins that seem to include him in the conversation, although Jack ignores him.  Gabe doesn’t sit down – he stands in the background, behind Tiran’s chair, except when something needs to be done.  He re-fills drinks as soon as they’re empty, refreshes the ones that go down slowly, lights Tiran’s cigarettes for him, and keeps the ashtray clean.  He clears off the food trays and plates when they’re abandoned, and moves the tables out of the way when everyone is finished eating.

The sun is starting to lower over the ocean when, in a conversational lull, Tiran leans over and slaps Jack’s knee apologetically.  "I’m sorry, man," he says.  "I’ve kept you here entertaining me all afternoon instead of letting you settle in.  I’m sure you’ve got lots you wanna do."

Jack demurs a little, but Tiran says, "Well, let’s at least get you set up and then we can decide what you want to do tonight.  I’ve already had a bunch of calls from the boys wanting to meet you right away, but I’ve managed to stave them off until tomorrow.  Thought you might want to take it easy tonight, maybe go out for a drink with a couple friends of mine.  That sound okay?"

"Sure, whatever."  Jack starts to get up, remembering again that he doesn’t yet know where he’ll be living.

Tiran seems to remember too.  "Rocky, take Jack and show him your place.  I mean, your place, Jack, if you want it.  And Gabe, show him the Lavinia room too."

"Yes, sir," says Gabe, and "Sure, Tiry," says Rocky. 

Rocky leads Jack through the house and out a side door.  From here Jack sees the "chalet" right away.  It’s a cute little place, like a country cottage – though only small in comparison with Tiran’s mansion.  Jack had been skeptical, expecting little more than a trailer, but he quickly sees that this is a real house -- two storeys, wood frame, a couple of decks, and a view over the ocean.  Not bad for a leech like Rocky, he thinks.

Rocky opens the front door and stands aside deferentially to let Jack check out the space.  Jack glances around, goes into the kitchen – full-sized, well-stocked – and then back to the large open living room.  He takes in the generous furnishings, glances at the view, tries out the cable.  There’s no formal dining room – just a nook off the kitchen – but at the back is a small den or study with a fireplace, electronics, easy chairs, and a deck that overlooks the water.

It’s all spotlessly clean, well-furnished, but without anything personal that would mark it out as belonging to someone else.  Like a hotel room.  Rocky must have removed all of his own things, Jack thinks.  He’s not sure whether he approves of this or considers it presumptuous. 

"There’s two bedrooms upstairs," Rocky offers when Jack seems to have completed his sweep of the first floor.

Jack nods and starts up the stairs.  He expects Rocky to follow him but he doesn’t, just stays waiting by the front door.  The second floor is equally irreproachable, with a large master suite and smaller guest bedroom.  There’s a small whirlpool tub in the bathroom, and Jack pauses reflectively to look at it. Mighty nice comforts for Rocky.  Did Tiran really build such a luxurious space just for his occasional visits?  Doesn’t Rocky still live with his wife and kids in some other town?

Jack starts back down the stairs.  "How often do you stay here?" he asks Rocky sharply. 

Rocky looks surprised.  "Oh – I don’t know, couple times a month."

"Who designed it, you or him?"

"Tiran, sir.  It was a surprise to me.  I’m sure you’re wondering, as I did, how I could have deserved such a generous gift."

Jack shrugs a little, on his way out the front door.  He’s wondering about a lot more than that.

Rocky follows, shutting the door behind him, and adds softly, "I think you’ll find that Tiran is far more generous to all of us than we could possibly ... deserve."

Jack mulls that over on his way back to the house, considering the possible sub-texts.  A veiled warning of their hold over Tiran, perhaps?  Or a hint that they could cut him in for a share of the spoils if he plays his cards right?

Back at the mansion he finds Gabe waiting for him.  "May I show you the room you’ll have in here, sir, if you decide to take it?"

Jack nods and follows Gabe up the main stairs.  It occurs to him he’s never been upstairs.  He was here once before, on a fleeting visit when he was in town, but he didn’t stay overnight.  He had met Gabe, that time, briefly, but not Rocky or any of the others.  Later, when Tiran had made his proposal, they’d met in Sacramento, halfway between their two homes, and Tiran had brought Gabe and Rocky with him.

Gabe takes Jack up two flights of stairs and down a hall to what seems like a separate wing of the mansion.  Jack is starting to wonder if he should be offended at such an isolated location, but when he sees the room it’s hard to consider it an insult.  It’s a large, luxurious suite, including a king-sized bed and separate sitting room with a fireplace, small bar, and two overstuffed club chairs.  There are fresh-cut flowers everywhere, and the bathroom is the size of a small cottage, with a huge Jacuzzi tub that makes Rocky’s pale in comparison. 

Jack walks around for a minute, then stands in the middle of the room, thinking. "Who uses this room normally?"

"Guests, sir.  I mean, longer-term ones."

"Is this the only one?"

"This is the only full suite.  But there are plenty of other guest rooms, of different sizes." 

Jack glances at Gabe suddenly.  "Where do you live?"

Gabe looks slightly embarrassed.  "Here, sir.  In this house."  He speaks softly, the way Rocky did when Jack asked him about his house.  "Tiran allows me to stay in one of the rooms."

"So where will Rocky stay if I take the chalet?  In here, I guess."

Gabe shakes his head a little.  "I’m not sure, sir.  I don't think Tiran has thought about it yet.  But I doubt in this room.  He might just share with me."

"Share your room?"  Jack frowns at Gabe.  "I thought you said there were plenty of guest rooms."

"There are, sir."  Gabe stops and looks like he’s thinking he’s said enough.  But Jack keeps watching him.  After a moment Gabe adds carefully, "Rocky didn’t assume that Tiran would just give him another room if he gave away his house."

Jack is still looking at Gabe.  "Where’s your room?"

Again, Gabe seems a little abashed.  "It’s next to Tiran’s, sir."

"Show me."  Jack heads out of the room abruptly and back to the stairs.  Gabe follows him, then steps ahead to lead him along the main hall on the second floor. 

It’s easy to see which is Tiran’s bedroom – there are large ornate double doors and tall vases of flowers on the floor on either side.  It gives the appearance almost of an altar. 

Gabe takes Jack past all of that and stops at the next door, which seems small and non-descript in comparison.  He opens it and stands aside to let Jack look in.  Inside, it is a pleasant, good-sized room, but very plain and certainly there’s nothing luxurious about it.  A door on one side stands open and Jack realizes it connects to Tiran’s room.  On the other side there seems to be a small bathroom and closet.  Other than furnishings – a basic bed, dresser, chair, desk – the room doesn’t have much in it.  Jack sees a guitar case and a few books, some papers on the desk, a laptop, and not much more.

"So where would Rocky stay?" Jack asks.

"Oh, I guess we’d get a mattress for the floor or something, sir.  Maybe if it’s regular, a trundle bed."

"Regular?"

"Well, I mean, if this is the place he usually stays."

"Where else would he stay?"

Gabe hesitates.  "I don’t know, sir.  Maybe at Pat and Adele’s."

"How much is he here?"

"Not as much as I’d like," Gabe says with a sudden flash of a smile.  "Maybe once or twice a week."

Jack frowns.  "He said a couple times a month." 

"Well, he might stay over for a few days a couple of times a month.  Other times he comes in but doesn’t stay."

"How far away does he live?"

"In Vennington, sir.  It’s maybe an hour and a half away."

Jack nods.  He thinks for a minute.  He has a vague idea that maybe he doesn’t want to be quite in such close proximity to all this … Gabe, Rocky, whatever other guests fill all the other bedrooms, longer-term or shorter-term.

They go downstairs.  Tiran is still on the deck, and as they step back out he looks up, smiling at them.  Rocky is in front of him, sitting on the floor of the deck, and he straightens as though he’d been leaning forward a moment before.

"So?"  Tiran asks Jack.  "Did you decide?"

"Yeah.  I’ll take the chalet."

Tiran raises an eyebrow.  "They were right."  He nudges Rocky with his foot.  "OK, Van, time to get your new boss settled in."

Rocky is already getting to his feet.  "We’ll go and take your things inside, Mr. Obernikoch.  May we unpack for you, or would you prefer to do it yourself?"

"I’ll unpack," Jack says shortly.  Nosy buggers, he thinks.

Gabe speaks up quietly from behind him, "Perhaps you’d like to show Mr. Obernikoch around the house while we’re gone, master."

"Oh, right."  Tiran puts out his cigarette and stands up, looking at Jack sheepishly.  "I always forget that part."

They set off on their various chores, and within a few minutes Jack is settling himself into the little house.  There’s not much to do, really.  The place is already well-stocked and he only brought clothes and toiletries, and his tools of the trade of course, for now, although this is supposed to be an indefinite arrangement.  He finds three housekeys on the kitchen table and adds one to his key ring.  He’s looking forward to a night out with Tiran, so he takes a quick shower, dresses, and heads back to the main house.

This time he can find his own way out to the back deck.  As he reaches the french doors, he pauses and looks outside through the glass.  Tiran is back in his lounger, drink in hand, and Rocky and Gabe are both with him.  This time Rocky is in a chair, and Gabe is on the floor in front of Tiran.  Gabe is holding Tiran’s hands – stroking them, in fact, Jack realizes – and speaking animatedly to him.  Jack can’t see Tiran’s expression or hear the words, but he finds himself watching Gabe’s upturned face, his glowing eyes and bright, eager, intense gaze.  This is how he works on Tiran, Jack thinks, and starts to feel a weight when he remembers the work ahead of him.

The weight grows heavier when Tiran turns to Rocky before they leave and asks if he wants to join them.  But Rocky declines, explaining that he means to go home tonight.

"But I’ll be back bright and early on Monday," Rocky adds, with a smile at Jack. 

"You’d better be," Tiran grunts, getting up from his chair.  "Jack will be taking attendance."

"I wouldn’t miss it, sir," Rocky says seriously, to Jack.  "Have a good night tonight.  Thanks for everything, Tiry."  He kisses Tiran’s cheek and then Gabe’s, gives a wave and is off.

Gabe asks if Tiran needs anything but Tiran declines, and he and Jack head out together.


**********


The next morning Jack makes coffee in his kitchen and takes it onto the back deck to drink.  He isn’t sure when Tiran will be up, so he waits, thinking things over, until late morning before making his appearance at the main house.

He finds Tiran at breakfast, with Gabe and a few people he doesn’t know.  This time there are clearly servants around, and there’s also someone who seems to fit in between friend and staff – a boy in maybe his early 20s, with red hair and an open expression, who hovers in the background of the room.

Tiran is almost as happy to see Jack this morning as he was the day before.  He has saved a place for Jack beside himself and pulls out the chair excitedly, asking how he slept, if he had everything he needed, why he didn’t come over earlier.  Tiran motions for the red-headed boy to fill Jack’s coffee cup, then sends him to the kitchen for more food.

When all of Jack’s immediate needs are looked after, Tiran grins at him and gestures toward the rest of the room.  "I couldn’t keep them away any longer - sorry!  They all wanted to get their first look at you – I mean … meet their new boss in person, of course." 

Jack looks around the table.  Besides Gabe, who is sitting on Tiran’s other side, there are three other men and a woman at the table.  Some of them are slightly familiar to him, from photos and media coverage.  The usual pack of sycophants and hangers-on, he thinks grimly.

Tiran begins the introductions, pointing out Paul Armstrong, then Rocky’s brother Pat, Pat’s partner Adele, and their son Tom.  "I know I call them my boys, but I have to admit, they’re not, technically, all boys," Tiran grins when he gets to Adele.

Paul Armstrong growls a little, across the table from him.  "And they’re not all yours, either, Marx."

Tiran immediately looks chastened.  "You’re right, Army, of course.  Please don’t get the wrong impression, Jack – Paul is my good friend, he doesn’t owe me a thing."

Jack finds that hard to believe, but he keeps his expression neutral as he nods at Paul.

"And this – " Tiran indicates the red-head with a nod – "is Rusty Andrews.  He is one of your charges.  And he’s on duty right now, that’s why he’s being so fastidious.  Come on, Rusty, sit down for now.  You can work on impressing Jack later."

Rusty gives a nervous glance around the room and sits down.  Pat begins a polite series of questions about Jack’s trip, his arrival, and whether everything at the chalet was to his liking.  After a few minutes, the conversation turns to what they all did the night before, and Paul, Tiran and Jack are the main participants.  Pat and Adele look on a little shyly, and Tom watches Paul more intently than Jack or Tiran, though he does turn an occasional curious glance to Jack and he answers Tiran’s intermittent questions in an even, respectful tone.  Tom is an attractive, blond, serious looking boy of about 19 with the calm, quiet reserve of someone who knows he has great strength but doesn’t expect to use it.  Jack realizes quickly that Tom belongs to Paul, but Tiran appears to be referring to him as one of Jack’s charges.  Rusty, meanwhile, Jack can’t place at all. 

Finally, as Rusty begins to clear the dishes and people seem to be thinking of moving elsewhere, Jack decides to ask outright.  "You never told me, Ti.  Who are the people I’m supposed to be looking after?"

Tiran looks surprised.  "Oh, I’m sorry Jackie.  I never told who they are?  What an ass I am."  He looks around the room.  "OK, most of them are right here.  Dell, Patty, Tom, Rusty, Gabe of course.  And you met Rocky.  That just leaves Blackie Richards and Dusty St. Vincente.  I’m sure they’ll be over later."

Jack looks around at the people named, who mostly glance back shyly – except Tom, who meets his gaze steadily, and Gabe, who gives him a tentative smile.

"And what is the plan, exactly?" Jack asks bluntly.  "What am I supposed to do with all of them?"

"Oh no," Tiran says, standing up and pulling Jack with him.  "None of that.  It’s Saturday, you don’t work on weekends.  Anyway," he continues, leading Jack out of the room, "I already told the boys all the stuff I care about.  Other than that you can work out whatever you want.  They asked for you, not me.  Now come on, I want to take you down to the beach."

The rest of the day passes in a whirl of activity and social interaction.  Amidst the visits, the outings, the walks to different parts of the complex and drives into town, Jack begins to hear a few stories and put some context together. 

He does meet Blackie and Dusty, and discovers that Blackie answers to Dusty, and of course both of them answer to Tiran.  He also learns that Rusty is a sort of intern-slash-foster son to Tiran, a run-away with an unfortunate past, who Tiran picked up on the side of the road one day and brought home to work on the complex. 

Adele and Pat originally belonged to Toni, Tiran’s erstwhile wife, before Toni turned them over to him and more or less removed herself from the scene.  Perhaps Tiran wouldn’t have so much of a hold on them, though, if Pat hadn’t screwed up in some massive way, the details of which are unclear to Jack, but for which Pat apparently continues to pay daily. 

Tom, Jack learns, voluntarily offered himself up in exchange for his father, at one point when Pat desperately needed a break, and continues to serve in Pat’s stead on a regular basis.  Tiran makes it clear that while Tom may be disciplined or punished for his own mistakes, the ultimate price for Tom’s sins – if it ever came to that – would be paid by Pat.  Tom certainly seems the devoted son, but not so devoted that he ever forgets his position with Paul.  A lot to juggle, Jack thinks, beginning to understand the undertone of alertness and coiled strength in Tom’s quiet reserve.

He also discovers that the boys – and Dell – currently operate a rotating roster system they developed themselves, which puts one of them "on duty" with Tiran at all times.  Tiran does seem to have plenty of household staff, but while on duty the boys provide a more intimate, valet type of function that Tiran doesn’t pay for.  When Jack arrived yesterday Gabe was on duty, and today it’s Rusty first, then Dell.  There are three five-hour daytime shifts, and a longer one overnight which may or may not require sleeping somewhere in Tiran’s house -- with Gabe right next door, Tiran doesn’t often need anyone else at night.

This is about as far as Jack gets, as Tiran was serious when he said he didn’t want to talk about work and is much more interested in socializing and introducing Jack to the pleasures of his world.  Which, Jack has to admit, look plentiful and rewarding.

Just before dinner, Jack excuses himself and heads back to the chalet for a breather and a change of clothes.  Already he’s grateful for the separate space – he’d never keep up with life at Tiran’s pace.  Although, with the size of the mansion, he supposes you could always find some quiet place there if you wanted.

He’s on his own back deck again, pacing himself with a drink and a backdrop of shimmering water below, when he hears a light knock at the front door.

It’s Gabe, looking hesitant and a little anxious.  "I hope I’m not disturbing you, sir."

Jack doesn’t answer; he stands and looks at him, waiting.

"I – I just wondered if I could talk to you for a minute so we could work out your arrangements?" Gabe begins, tentatively.
 
"Arrangements?"

"Yes, sir.  I mean, I mean, the kind of services  – "

Jack interrupts him, pissed.  "Fuck you, Solomon.  You heard Tiran.  I don’t start work till Monday."

Gabe looks confused at first, then concerned.  "Work, sir?  No, I … "  He stops, his confusion lifting.  "I’m very sorry, sir.  That’s not what I meant at all.  It’s nothing to do with your work.  I just meant your – your personal arrangements … you know, cooking and cleaning – keeping your house."

"Oh."  Jack gets it, finally.  "You mean, like servants."

"Yes sir."  Gabe looks relieved, then anxious again. "Although, truthfully, sir, we were hoping that you might allow us to look after your needs ourselves.  We’d be very grateful for the opportunity."

"Ah." The light dawning on Jack is getting brighter now.  "So, not like servants."

"No, exactly like servants, sir!"  Gabe protests.  "I know we’re not professionals but I promise, if you give us a chance, we’ll do just as good a job ... "

Jack surveys Gabe skeptically for a minute, then steps through the door and out onto the porch.  Gabe is still standing in front of the door, watching while Jack lowers himself deliberately into a wicker chair on the porch, stretches out his legs, and turns a sardonic, languid gaze to Gabe.  "So," he says conversationally.  "I don’t rate paid staff."

"You rate anything that pleases you, sir," Gabe responds promptly, with conviction.  "It was just a humble request.  If you prefer paid staff, it is done.  I’m very sorry if I’ve given another impression."

There’s a pause – a sort of stalemate, while they both stare at each other unblinkingly.  Then Gabe abruptly slips over a couple of steps and kneels in front of Jack.  "Is that it, sir?" he whispers.  "If those are your orders, it’s my honour to obey.  Or may I beg permission to speak further on the subject?"

The sudden humility takes Jack off guard.  It would hardly be out of place in a scene, but seems strange in the context of such a prosaic exchange.  He finds himself feeling oddly helpless in the face of this unabashed submission.  He has a fleeting thought of Tiran – no wonder he’s caught so tight; he’s been under this spell for years.

Jack is still debating how to respond when Gabe goes on, still in the same soft voice.  "Of course I’ll arrange for paid staff to look after whatever you want, if that’s your choice.  But if – if I can repeat my request, we just wondered if you might consider allowing us to … "

"Wait."  Jack cuts him off.  He focuses on the mundane details to counter Gabe’s charm. 

"What’s the big deal anyway?  Tiran’s got plenty of servants.  Who looked after this place when Rocky lived here?"

Gabe looks surprised.  "Well – I don’t know.  I never saw any of the staff here when Rocky was around – I mean, he looks after himself … "  He thinks for a minute.  "But I guess they might have come over and done some housekeeping in between visits."

"So what’s the problem?  Why can’t they just keep doing what they were doing?"

"They can if you wish, sir."  Gabe pauses and looks at the floor, as though half-expecting the conversation to be over.  But Jack is curious, so he waits for Gabe to go on. 

After a moment Gabe glances up, "But is that all you want?  Someone to come over every couple of weeks?  Any of Tiran’s guests would have more help than that.  You should have someone to keep your house, cook and clean and shop for you, run your errands.  May we not make those arrangements for you?"

"Fine.  Have Tiran’s regular staff look after it."

Gabe hesitates.  "Sir … if I may … we’re – we’re a little concerned about putting Tiran to any trouble.  I mean, it’s us who benefit from your services.  We don’t want to cause any inconvenience or, or -- extra expense for Tiran."

Jack frowns.  The line about the boys benefiting from his services isn’t new to him – he knows that’s the cover story – but … extra expense?  Who do they think is paying his salary?  A few extra bucks for maidservice seems like the least of the problem.

"What?  You think Tiran’s going to have to hire new staff to look after me?"

"Well, maybe, sir -- or maybe the current staff would do – but then maybe something else wouldn’t get done.  We just don’t want to inconvenience anyone."

"Yeah, fine then – so you hire the new staff," Jack says impatiently.

"We will, sir, if that’s your preference.  Is it?"  Gabe pauses momentarily, then rushes on again, as though afraid to wait for an answer.  "Or may I be allowed to repeat our request?"

Jack grimaces, looking away.  "Cheap bastards, aren’t you?"

"No sir."  Gabe’s voice is gentle now, coaxing.  "It’s not about the money.  Well, it’s only partly about the money.  The truth is, we’d be so honoured to look after you ourselves.  It’s just a small way of showing our appreciation – and gratitude to you.  It would be such a privilege for us."

Jack barks a laugh.  "If it’s such an honour, why don’t you do it for Tiran?  Why can’t you keep house for him so he doesn’t need any servants?"

Gabe’s response is unhesitating, though his voice is wistful.  "Because he won’t let us.  I wish he would, sir.  We all do.  But he’s forbidden us to raise it with him again."

Jack is looking at Gabe with a raised, disbelieving eyebrow.    
 
Gabe sees the look and goes on.  "Believe me, sir, Tiran wouldn’t need to pay anyone a dime if he allowed us to do what we want to.  We’ve asked, we’ve begged.  But the most he’s ever let us do was set up the duty system – and that’s really nothing, it’s fetching and carrying, making drinks, just being around in case he wants an errand run.  It’s really not – not service in the way we’d like it to be.  But we can’t persuade him to get rid of all the paid staff and let us take over, so, we take what we can get."  Gabe stops and looks at Jack, frankly, now, and openly.  "We were truly hoping to have better luck with you, sir."

Jack tilts his head and looks at Gabe thoughtfully.  He’s good, he thinks.  I should have been more prepared. 

Gabe is finished now; he sits back on his knees and waits quietly for a decision.  Jack contemplates.  He’s not surprised that the boys want to keep an eye on him.  In the same way, it could be useful from his end to keep them around a bit.  Information is power, and so far most of it seemed to be on the other side.  He’s not thrilled about having the boys in his personal space … but he could set the rules.  Might be worth it for the chance to find out more about the game they’re playing.  And if giving in to Gabe so early makes them think he’s a dupe … so much the better when they learn the truth.

After a minute, Jack makes up his mind.  He looks down at Gabe, still waiting in front of him, and says firmly.  "Two hours a day, weekdays.  Basic housekeeping.  No cooking – I’ll take my meals at Tiran’s."

Gabe’s eyes shine.  His hands dart out and – he doesn’t quite take Jack’s hands but he brushes them fleetingly, as though he can’t resist, and his upturned face lights up. 

"Thank you, thank you, sir!" Gabe breathes, his brilliant eyes fixed on Jack’s face.

And suddenly Jack realizes – this is the moment he saw last night, through the french doors, when Gabe was out on the deck looking up at Tiran.  This is what Gabe was doing then – not asking for something, but getting it.