Under Lock and Key

by Silk

Part 2

No one knew how I felt about Birkoff. I mean, shit, it's not the kind of thing somebody who wants to live shouts out in the middle of Section One.

Then *he* came.

The other. The brother. The twin. I tried to keep from feeling outraged that this piece of shit was still walking around on two legs when a decent human being like Birkoff was dead.

But I couldn't help but stare at him. The resemblance was so strong, and yet...they were completely different. Mirror twins. Polar opposites.

Looking at Jason Crawford was like looking at myself. The cocky half-smile. The relaxed posture. The mouth that promised everything but gave none of it away.

Once again, I was struck by the irony of it all. Why hadn't I gone to Birkoff and done something, *anything*, about this, this in stupifyingly bad taste attraction I had for him?

Maybe because he would have...laughed. I don't think I could have taken that.

So I stayed far, far away from the insouciant Jason with his "How'd you like to fuck this?" smile.

It would have worked. After all, we no longer worked side by side anymore. I didn't *have* to see him any more than I wanted to.

But dammit, I wanted to.

And somehow he *knew*. Arrogant son-of-a-bitch.

*He* came to *me*.

Part 3