Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Pet Fly owns The Sentinel.
I don't intend to harm any of the characters, or profit from them, so
please don't sue me.
I also don't own Bancoran, Maraich or Patalliro. They belong to Mineo
Maya, and are characters in "Patalliro", published by Hakusensha's Hana
to Yume manga line, and up to sixty-odd volumes so far.
Ahhh... Battle of the steely-eyed heroes. Battle of the curly-haired
sidekicks/lovers. Sorry. I couldn't help myself. (And I *was* working on
the next Spirit Guide story)
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Diamonds and Marinera Sauce
by Lianne Burwell
July 1998
"Ellison, my office," came the shout from the room with a view.
Wondering just what it was *this* time, Detective Jim Ellison got to his
feet.
"You bellowed, sir?" he asked in a mild tone as he reached the doorway.
His captain, Simon Banks, did not look happy.
"Close the door behind you." Simon waited while Jim did that, and sat
down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. "I just had a call from
the Mayor's office. It seems that the crown jewels of Marinera are going
to be touring the States, and the tour is starting *here*, for reasons
they didn't bother to explain. They want *you* to head the security for
the opening gala, here. Their king will be coming, along with the jewels."
Marinera? "Excuse me, sir, but Marinera? Isn't that a type of seafood
sauce?"
"It's also an island so small that you could search for it on a map for a
week and still not find it. Unfortunately, it's also home to one of the
world's highest quality diamond mines, so the crown jewels are going to
be attracting all sorts of trouble. The mayor's office is sending over an
information packet by courier."
"But Simon, why me? Couldn't someone else? Secret Service, the FBI,
anyone?" Jim knew he sounded a little desperate, but he didn't care.
"Sorry, Jim, but you were asked for by name. They want to make a good
show by having 'Jim Ellison, Cop of the Year' head the security. But you
won't be in this alone. The king has sent someone to help with the
security. He'll be here this afternoon."
"Yes, sir," Jim said with a sigh. They both knew better than to fight
with the mayor. He just hoped that the 'help' would *be* a help. "I'll
finish up the report of the Robertson bust, first."
Simon waved a hand, and Jim took it as a signal to get lost.
* * * * *
"Could you please direct me to Detective Ellison's desk?"
Jim looked up at the cultured tones. At the entrance to the Major Crimes
bullpen, he could see Brown talking to a well-dressed stranger. Jim
raised an eyebrow. The man was slender, with long black hair that dropped
to below his waist, and hung loose. He could see the glint of an earring
through the dark strands, but there was definitely *nothing* feminine
about the man. Brown pointed in his direction, and the man thanked him
before turning.
Jim froze in his seat, pinned by the gaze now directed at him. The man's
eyes were blue, and commanded a laser-like beam that he knew he would
never be able to duplicate.
"Detective Ellison?"
Jim took a moment to realize that the man had crossed the room, already,
without him noticing and was now holding out his hand. He stood and shook
it, noting the calluses that indicated that this man was very familiar
with holding a gun. The grip was unusually strong.
"Yes?"
"My name is Bancoran. MI6. I'm here to help with the security of the
Marineran crown jewels."
Jim frowned. "MI6? Isn't this a little out little outside your job
description?"
A flash of annoyance crossed the otherwise expressionless face. "A number
of years ago I was assigned to protect the young king while he was in
England. He decided he liked me, and since Marinera produces the largest,
and highest quality diamonds in the world..."
"The politicians are willing to do anything to keep him happy," Jim
finished for the man. "Been there, done that. So. Let's take a look at
the security situation that's been dumped on us."
By the end of the day, Jim was feeling a lot better about the assignment.
Bancoran was a man after his own heart (despite the hair), and they found
themselves agreeing on nearly every point, and where they didn't agree,
the dissenter was more than willing to be convinced. Their preliminary
plans were set. They just needed to make final adjustments after walking
the site in person.
Finally, at about six o'clock, Jim pushed away from the table in the
conference room that he had commandeered for their brainstorming.
"Well, I'm sure that you've got a major case a jet-lag, so how about we
pick this up in the morning."
"Actually," Bancoran replied, "I was about to suggest dinner, my treat.
The restaurant at the hotel seems more than adequate. My partner has been
napping all day, so he's probably ready to eat by now."
"Partner?" Jim asked, giving a quizzical head-tilt.
"Partner," Bancoran said firmly, as though daring Jim to comment.
Instead, Jim just smiled.
"Well, *my* partner is probably finished up at the University, so how
about we *both* join you?"
Bancoran gave a small nod, as though to acknowledge a touch in a fencing
match. "Of course, Detective. Shall we say... eight o'clock? We're
staying at the Cascade Cloisters."
Jim blinked at that. The Cloisters - although it was nothing like a
*real* cloister - was easily the most exclusive and expensive hotel in
the city, and its restaurant was touted as one of the finest in the
Pacific Northwest.
"The king is paying, and the dinner will be going on my expense report,"
Bancoran said, answering the unspoken question. Jim grinned. Definitely a
man after his own heart.
"Eight o'clock, then."
Jim was just starting to pull out his dress suit when his partner,
roommate and lover, Blair Sandburg, got home. He could hear Blair all the
way from the car, grumbling about University politics and unnecessary
meetings. He grinned. Hopefully dinner would cheer him up.
"Chief," he called as the loft door opened. "Pull out the fancy clothes.
We're going out to dinner."
Blair came up the stairs to their bedroom and stared at Jim, who was
trying to figure out which pair of white socks to wear with his navy blue
suit.
"Couldn't we skip tonight? Take-out will do me fine."
"If you want. But it's not every day you get offered dinner at the
Cloisters."
Blair goggled at that. "The Cloisters? Are you nuts? What did you do,
take out a second mortgage? And what's the occasion?"
"Yes. No. No, since I'm not paying. And the occasion is that the person
I'm working with a on a security setup is paying on his expense account."
Blair frowned for a moment. "The Marineran Crown Jewels. Has to be."
Jim shook his head in amazement. Someday he'd figure out how Blair
crammed all that trivia into his head.
"Are you ever wrong? Don't answer that," he said quickly, as Blair opened
his mouth. "Just pull out something fancy. After all, this is a chance
that might not come again."
"Too true," Blair said, heading for the closet.
Bancoran was waiting for them in the hotel lobby. The elegance of his
black suit and ruffled white silk shirt stood out in a room full of well-
dressed upper-class guest. Blair felt out of place in his slightly shabby
dress suit. If he'd had a bit more warning, he could have rented
something better, but that wasn't possible. He refused to let it bother
him, though.
"Bancoran," Jim said. "I'd like you to meet Dr. Blair Sandburg, associate
professor of anthropology at Ranier University and consultant with the
Cascade Police Department. Blair, this is Bancoran, MI6"
Blair rolled his eyes. In the three months since he'd gotten his
doctorate and new job at Ranier, Jim had delighted in introducing him by
his full title and position. The smile, the way the words rolled off his
tongue, they all spoke volumes of Jim's pride in him and his
accomplishments. "Pleased to meet you," he said, holding out his hand.
"Likewise," Bancoran said, shaking his hand. Blair just about melted at
the sound. What was it about British accents that just seemed to scream
'sex appeal'?
Bancoran waved them towards the restaurant. "Maraich is holding our table
for us. I should warn you, though. He is a little... unusual."
"Unusual?" Jim said, then stopped dead in his tracks. At the table they
were obviously heading for was a very feminine-looking young man. Blair
was willing to bet that this Maraich was not out of his teens yet. His
red hair was a riot of curls, which fell across his face, obscuring his
right eye.
And his clothes! Blair had seen some flamboyant dressers in his day,
especially at gay pride parades, but this kid put them all to shame. His
suit was silver lame. His shirt was a midnight blue silk, with a generous
ruffle at the throat. The boots were the same color, in suede leather,
and came to the knees, and had heels that were several inches. The boot
buckles, earrings and brooch at his throat all glittered in a way that
shouted 'real diamonds'. The ensemble was capped by a floor-length cape,
draped over the back of his chair, in the same shade of midnight blue,
and trimmed in pure white fur. Somehow, Blair didn't think it was fake.
"Bancoran," Jim said in a pained voice. "Please tell me he's over
sixteen, so I don't have to arrest you."
Bancoran laughed.
Dinner lived up to the restaurant's reputation. Blair had winced when he
saw the prices, but the promise that the meal was being paid for by
royalty had squashed his immediate instinct to order the cheapest
(relatively speaking) dish on the menu. Instead he had ordered one of the
seafood and pasta dishes, and it was wonderful. He hadn't even protested
when Jim's selection came doused a *very* rich (and unhealthy) sauce.
By unspoken agreement, nothing was said about the security job during the
meal. Instead they had traded stories. Jim's experiences in Covert Ops,
carefully edited of anything classified. Bancoran's MI6 stories, no doubt
edited the same way. Blair's travels, and Maraich's.
Maraich was a surprise. Despite his appearance and obvious youth he was
as well traveled as Blair, and told a very good story. For someone so
young, he was also seemed a very old person, inside, and Blair worried
about what had caused that. Finally he gave in to his curiosity and asked
what Maraich's profession was.
"No matter," Maraich said with a wave of the hand. "After I met Bancoran,
I didn't have to keep up my old occupation."
"What was that?" Blair asked, with a cold feeling in his stomach. He knew
what he was going to hear.
"Assassin."
And that wasn't it. Both Blair and Jim choked on the fine wine they were
all drinking.
"Assassin?" Blair squeaked once his airway was clear again.
"Of course! That's how we met. The Diamond Syndicate hired me to kill
Patalliro (that obnoxious little troll) while he was in England. Bancoran
was assigned to protect him. He... stopped me."
"And you fell in love?" Blair asked, fascinated despite himself.
"Well, *I* did. Ban took a little convincing. I had to shoot him at one
point." Bancoran gave the other man a fond glare.
Blair blinked, not sure if that was a joke. Somehow, he didn't think it
was.
Jim climbed into bed, wearing his boxers, and immediately found himself
with an armful of cuddly anthropologist. He just wished he had the energy
to *do* something with that armful. He settled for a nice long kiss.
"So, did you enjoy dinner?"
"Oooh, very much. It's not like I'm going to have another chance to eat
at the Cloisters anytime soon. Mmmm. They deserve their reputation."
"They do. And the dinner guests?"
Blair gave him a speculative look. "An... interesting pair. Bancoran is
sexy as hell. But Maraich. That bothers me a little. From the sound of
how long they say they've been together, he couldn't have been more than
fourteen or fifteen when they met. Still, it seems to work for them."
Jim gave a little shudder. "That bothers me too, but the kid is of age
now, and like you say, it works for them. I'm just glad I *didn't* meet
them a few years ago. I'd hate to have to arrest him. He's a good man,
and *very* good at what he does. I'm going to enjoy working with him."
Blair was already falling asleep, and only gave a sleepy mumble in
response. Jim smiled, and buried his face in his partner's curls. Then a
piece of the conversation replayed in his mind.
"Why are you noticing how sexy Bancoran is?!"
Maraich waited until his lover was in the bed then pounced, landing on
top of the older man.
"Ooof. Careful, love. You're putting on weight."
Maraich pouted at that. He kept in too good a condition to be putting on
weight, and Bancoran knew it.
"So how much longer are we going to be here? It's beautiful, but it isn't
home."
Bancoran combed his fingers through the fiery curls. "A couple more days,
until the gala will is over. After that, it's someone else's problem.
Shouldn't be any problems here, though. Ellison is very good at what he
does."
Maraich gave a secretive smile. "I'm sure he does. And with all those
muscles, he probably intimidates everyone out of trying anything."
Bancoran froze, then glared at him. "You're not supposed to be looking at
his muscles."
Maraich grinned, inwardly. A jealous Bancoran was a fun Bancoran. "Why
not? And that lovely smile. Of course, his partner has a lot of appeal.
I'll bet he has a chest as hairy as his head." That was a low blow, he
knew. Bancoran's body was nearly hairless, except for the nest of coal-
black curls around that oh-so-lovely piece of flesh between his legs.
Bancoran had obviously reached the breaking point. He rolled, until
Maraich was flat on his back, with those beautiful black tresses falling
down to shield their faces.
"You better not be planning to do anything more than just look, little
imp."
"Why not. Perhaps they'd being interested in getting together for a...
*God*!"
Maraich nearly levitated off the bed as his cock was engulfed by his very
talented lover. Yes, a jealous Bancoran was *definitely* a fun Bancoran.
Three days later, the gala was on. Jim was very pleased with the security
arrangements. He and Bancoran had covered every contingency. There were
guards at all the entrances. The jewels were behind glass, laser
detectors and ropes, keeping the guests at least four feet back from the
priceless pieces. They had done an excellent job.
At least, that was what he thought until he arrived at the main ballroom,
after a check through the back-rooms, making sure that they were locked,
and found only three guards, the ropes gone and the lasers turned off.
Furious, he went looking for Bancoran, Blair trailing along behind him.
He found Bancoran in a side-room, yelling at a boy who looked to just
barely be in his teens, while Maraich split his attention between
restraining Bancoran and glaring at the boy. Jim didn't waste any time
with small-talk.
"Where the hell are all the guards? Not to mention everything other
security measure that has disappeared in the last hour?"
"I told them to leave," the child said in a haughty tone. Jim glared at
the tiny blond, dressed in some sort of military uniform.
"And you are?" he said in his frostiest voice.
Bancoran flashed a grimace, that might have been trying to be a smile, at
him. "Detective James Ellison, meet Patalliro, king of Marinera."
The boy clicked his heels and gave a small bow. Jim didn't return it.
"Listen, you might be king, but you do *not* have the right to start
mucking with the security plan at the last minute!" Behind him, Blair was
murmuring gentle suggestions for breathing exercises to control his
temper. For once he ignored his lover.
The boy gave a small sneer, and replied, confidently. "No one would
*dare* try anything." He turned and headed for the ballroom. "To try
anything would be an insult to me, and to my country."
...
Kaoru-no-kimi