Sadie's Kiss Part 1

Sadie's Kiss.

Sophia t.i.theniel.

Evan and his friend and protector, Sadie, have a life together. Alone. Just the two of them. And that's just the way they like it. Well, Evan, anyway. Sadie may be a dog, but she's more trustworthy than any human Evan's met since his accident.

Sadie thinks Evan needs a human human companion. So companion. So when Casey, the social worker from the LGTB Support Center shows up to rescue Evan from himself, she puts her cunning plan into action. It starts with the little things. Like a kiss.

Chapter 1.

Casey was tal . That was the first word everyone would come up with if they had to describe him. He'd always had a head of advantage over everyone else around him, from middle school and right up to his col ege days as a basketbal player.

The second word would be shy. Casey was wel liked, but maybe because of his height and general body size, Casey went out of his way to make himself smal and unnoticeable, invisible almost, and for a six foot five, strapping guy like him it wasn't that easy. But he succeeded quite spectacularly.

And to be honest, in the hustle and bustle of San Francisco, if you didn't want to be seen, people wouldn't look twice. There was too much else to engage with to pay attention to a former col ege basketbal player turned social services major, and Casey liked it exactly like that.

Casey looked out of the tiny window of the one room, open s.p.a.ce office he shared with Sandra, a half Black, half Puerto Rican Tasmanian devil turned accountant, and edged against the wal to throw the window open. Spring was upon them, and San Francisco was a blur of colors so bright it made your eyes sting.

Casey smiled and looked back at his computer screen, adjusting his headset, and getting back to that d.a.m.ned report that had kept him up most of the weekend.

Not that Casey had anything else to do that weekend, but that was beside the point.

The phone rang, and Casey pushed a b.u.t.ton automatical y as he typed away. "LGTB Support Center, I'm Casey. How may I help you?"

"How much for a b.l.o.w.j.o.b?"

The line was delivered amongst cra.s.s laughter, and Casey punched the off b.u.t.ton a little too viciously, sending the phone base skidding across his meager desk, pens and papers tumbling in a flurry to the floor.

"I think we just tossed a stupendous amount of money down the toilet with that stupid ad campaign," he said to the room at large, which consisted of him and Sandra's empty desk. There were two volunteers who usual y manned the reception desk, but it was finals time for every other kid in San Francisco, and the LGTB Support Center was seriously understaffed.

Which was the nice way to say that after the last cut the state had done for humanitarian work, the center could barely keep afloat with Casey, Sandra and Leo, Casey's out and proud bis.e.xual roommate, who was widely recognized as the biggest manwh.o.r.e of San Francisco.

The way things were, it was a miracle they even managed to keep the books in what resembled order, and Casey suspected it had a lot to do with Sandra's creative accounting.

Casey could almost hear his parents' disapproving sighs, even if they were miles away, al the way in Sacramento. They never real y minded that Casey was gay, as long as he kept up his appearances and continued his career as a col ege basketbal star. But when Casey had cal ed them to tel them he was switching majors, his mom had cried for a week, and his father had refused to pay his tuition.

That was when Casey left the dorms to move in with Leo. Leo was the single most obnoxious person in the world, and Casey threatened to kil him on a regular basis -- with more conviction behind the threat once Casey picked up his first shift at the center. One year later, he graduated with honors with his thesis in Social Services and Support in the Gay Community.

His parents missed their flight and never made it to San Francisco for his graduation. It real y didn't take Casey's special sensitivity to read between the lines. They stil cal ed, though, mostly to remind him what a disappointment he was, but Casey had no regrets. He knew when he switched majors that he was never going to be the one whose name was written up in lights. He wasn't tal enough, for one, despite "normal" people always having to look up when they spoke to him. And he simply wasn't good enough. He was tired of warming a bench while his life swept by him. Once he managed to pul free from his parents' overblown expectations, Casey had found that he liked working with other underdogs like him. The LGTB center was tiny, cramped and cluttered, but it felt more like home to him than the changing rooms had ever done.

Casey had a love/hate relationship with his job (bordering on hate during the unexpected weekends he'd get cal ed in, or the Monday mornings when the stapler didn't work or the printer got stuck), but Casey wouldn't trade it for the world.

The Center was the first place where he felt like he belonged. Where no one treated him like a circus show.

Where his "intuition," as he dubbed it, earned him smiles and hugs and freshly baked cookies rather than scorn, bul ying. Or a chorus of "freak."

The phone rang again, and this time Casey closed his eyes, hands splayed wide on the desk. He let himself feel. It was hot outside. Too hot. A girl, crying. Blood.

Casey picked up the phone. "LGTB Support Center, I'm Casey, how may I help you?"

Heavy breathing at the other end. Casey cringed. He closed his eyes again, trying to reach out, letting his sense flood him, nearly making him dizzy.

"It's okay," he said, his voice different this time, slow and secure. "Nothing wil harm you now." He saw the back of an al ey, a wrought iron lamp post sticking out under an open window. Casey knew the place, it was near the Fountainhead pub, down on the west end. "Hang in there, sweetie, I'm sending someone over to get you, okay?"

"I don't want no cops."

"No cops, I promise. Just my roommate." Casey picked up his cel phone to text Leo to get him there, and fast. "We'l prepare a room for you," he said then, without thinking, and the girl at the other end gave a smal gasp.

"I don't... I -- how do you know?"

Here goes nothing. "I'm psychic."

A beat. Then, her chuckle. "Right."

No one ever believes the truth, Casey thought with a sad smile. "Go into the Fountainhead and wait for Leo.

He's a short guy with a face like his a.s.s." The girl chuckled again, and Casey felt his sadness vanish. "And you can total y say I told you that."

"Right."

"Hang in there, okay? He'l be there soon."

Casey hung up and quickly texted Leo Marike's location -- that was the girl's name. Early on, he'd been so eager to help he ended up freaking out many a cal er, forgetting that most people didn't real y appreciate talking to someone they've never met but who apparently knew al about their problems. Casey had adjusted pretty quickly, though, learning to say just enough to make people believe they were talking to someone who understood, rather than knew, warming them up to the idea of coming to the center for anything from counseling to condoms, from HIV brochures or pregnancy tests, or even a bunk bed and a hot meal.

Sandra cal ed him a blessing, and Casey glowed quietly under the praise. No one had ever made him feel more welcome than the people at the LGBT Support Center, and after a few months of working there, even his renowned shyness had begun to crumble. It was hard to be shy when you were talking about safe s.e.x 24/7 or fil ing out abuse reports or talking to cops who'd turned a blind eye to abuse reports or talking to cops who'd turned a blind eye to the latest bashing.

If you asked Leo, he'd claim the whole credit for Casey's blossoming, as he poetical y put it.

His cel phone tril ed not five minutes later. It was Leo's simple "Got her," and Casey leaned back against his chair with a deep, troubled sigh. At least his parents hadn't kicked him out, he thought with a touch of the same bitter sadness that surged up in him whenever a kid straggled through the office because they had nowhere else to go.

Casey counted himself lucky.

"Hey, cupcake!" Sandra suddenly materialized in front of Casey, out of thin air apparently.

Casey had been so lost in his train of thoughts, swaying between Marike and his own parents, that he'd missed her entrance completely, extra sense or not. "Hi.

How was the meeting?"

"You don't wanna know. And you look worried already. What's up?"

"I cal ed Leo to do a pick up," Casey spun round and round in his chair, suddenly feeling the weight of Marike's cal push down on his shoulders. He hesitated half a second before voicing the thoughts in his head. "Girl's been kicked out by her folks."

Sandra clucked her tongue in sympathy. "At least they're cal ing us, and not sleeping on the streets." She slid between the paper shredder and the notice board, dropping her bag on her already overflowing desk, sighing as she stretched her arms high above her head and turned on the computer. "Thought Leo was supposed take the on the computer. "Thought Leo was supposed take the early shift this morning."

Casey snorted. "Couldn't have woken him up if I tried."

Sandra heaved a sigh. "Color me shocked. Who was he with this time?"

"Some dude,"

Casey said evasively, his concentration flying back to his monitor.

"You're seriously spoiling my plans of living vicariously through him."

Casey chuckled again, head ducked low to hide his embarra.s.sment. He loved Leo like a brother, but living with a very active, very loud and very shameless roommate only highlighted everything Casey was not. And even if Casey was okay with that -- real y, he was -- he couldn't help the flush suffusing from his neck up to the tips of his ears at Sandra's knowing giggle.

When Leo picked someone up to bring back to their place, Casey's gift turned into more of a nightmare as Casey's senses were a.s.saulted from every angle, flashes from what was about to happen superimposing themselves on the noises and moans of what was happening now. The double effect usual y left him high and dry, stuck in the sheets tangled around him.

Fortunately, Sandra couldn't press him for more on Leo's s.e.x life. The wind chimes above the door tinkled loudly as a short-haired brunette with a very visible black eye and a duffel bag over her shoulder walked through the door, Leo on her heels.

"Everyone, this is Marike. Marike, everyone." Leo "Everyone, this is Marike. Marike, everyone." Leo said with wide sweeping hand gestures.

Sandra immediately stood from behind her desk, knocking into several things as she edged her way around the cluttered s.p.a.ce to shake Marike's hand -- a foolproof tactic to ease people in before sneakily going in for a hug.

Sandra was the absolute master at it. Casey just hovered awkwardly, out of his chair but stil behind his desk, shoulders tucked inwards, as he was attempting to shrink in on himself.

"Welcome, sweetpie," Sandra said as she pul ed back, holding Marike at arm's length. "My name's Sandra.

I'm the LGTB Center advisor, and this is Casey, our counselor."

Marike gave them a once over, looking every bit like the trapped animal Casey felt her as. He tried to smile rea.s.suringly and extended his hand. "Hi. Do you want to go take a look at the dorm? We don't have anyone else in, so you'l get a single room without a view."

That got a smal laugh out of Marike -- it was probably more out of nerves than anything else, but that seemed encouraging enough. Sandra wrapped one arm around her shoulder and led her away, and Casey flopped back in his seat with a sigh.

"C'mon, bro, lighten up. She's gonna be al right. At least she's not been attacked. Ya know we've had an outburst of that s.h.i.t to deal with after Prop8 pa.s.sed."

"No, I know." Casey looked out of the tiny window on the empty courtyard.

"You've seen it already?"

Casey rol ed his eyes. "That's not -- Leo, how many f.u.c.king times do I have to explain it to you?"

Leo spread his arms in surrender. "Hey, I'm just saying. I think it's cool either way. No need to rip off my head, dude." Leo tilted his head to one side, giving Casey a scrutinizing look. "What's up?"

"Nothing."

"Ha. Bul . I don't need a sixth sense to figure out something rubbed you the wrong way." Leo perched himself on the corner of Casey's overly organized desk "So, spil . Whatever it is, I'm here to listen."

"It's nothing," Casey insisted, trying to get back to his report, but Leo had placed his scrawny a.s.s straight on the mouse. "Oh, dude -- seriously?"

"Come on, I'm your best friend."

Casey sighed and crossed his hands behind his head, trying to look unconcerned. "We got five prank cal s this morning."

"Losers."

"Yeah."

Leo nudged at him with his foot against Casey's knee. "Dude. Come on. It's just prank cal s. They're probably shut in virgins who unless they looked back at birth never actual y saw any, much less get any."

"Wel , I'd never make a stupid prank cal to a social services center," Casey muttered, and then immediately regretted it, a familiar blend of embarra.s.sment and bitterness spreading inside of him.

Leo nudged at him again. "Wel , you're special.

Don't let it bother you, man. It's real y not worth it."

Casey sighed and went back to his report.

Being special sucked.

Evan took his gla.s.s and downed the double shot in one swal ow, tapping the bar for a refil . It was early in the day to be drinking, but what the hel , it was 2 AM somewhere in Europe. The liquor was cheap and warm, no ice or lemon to go with it, but Evan didn't mind. He wasn't drinking for taste anyway.

Sadie's wet nose rested atop his thigh, and she made a smal sound, a clear plea for attention that made the curve of Evan's lip tip up slightly. He reached down to scratch behind her ears, absentmindedly swirling his two fingers of bourbon against the wal of his gla.s.s as his German Shepherd lapped at his wrist.

The noise in the bar was way too loud. Hockey was on TV, and real y, even if Evan watched sports, what kind of sport was that? They weren't in Canada, for the love of Christ, they were in motherf.u.c.king California. Put on some NFL.

Sadie growled a little, and Evan resumed the scratching of her ears. "What's up, girl?" he asked under his breath, even if he knew the dog couldn't real y answer.

He felt her fur rise through his curled fingers, and put down his gla.s.s. Heavy footsteps sounded behind him.

"Hey, big guy. Wanna shoot some pool?"

"No." Evan pushed his sungla.s.ses further up his nose.

nose.

"Come on, it'l be fun. You and me against these two."

Sadie's growl intensified, and Evan's shoulder tensed. "I said no."

"We can make it interesting." A hand curled around his shoulder, "What about strip pool?"

Evan tensed, grabbing hold of the guy's fingers and nearly cracked two of them as he pushed him off. "What part of no no don't you get?" don't you get?"

Liquor tinkled down in his gla.s.s, and Evan reached for it, downing it in one go and taking one ten dol ar bil out of his pocket to slap it down on the bar. "C'mon girl," he muttered, fingers curling around Sadie's leash.

"Fine," the guy spat behind him. "It'd have been my pity f.u.c.k of the month but hey, don't let the door smack your a.s.s on the way out."