When we finally reached Mick's house, I discovered that the place was a shit-hole, to put it bluntly. As soon as the short Irishman answered the door, Zak was bulling his way in and I stepped in Mick's way to stop him from fleeing in the other direction. I grabbed Mick by the scruff of the neck, frog marched him inside and slammed the front door behind us.

I took him through to the crummy living room where Zak waited before I dumped Mick down in the sole armchair that dominated one wall. I then propped my hands on the smaller man's shoulders to keep him seated.

"Hey. Get your fucking goon off me," Mick yelled at Zak. "Fucking Russian."

I tightened my grip on his shoulders even as I hissed - "I'm Ukrainian, not Russian."

Mick looked about to yell at me that time yet Zak took out his machete. He'd placed the weapon under his jacket as soon as we'd left his car - strategically placed so that Mick himself hadn't been able to see it immediately.

"Shut your trap, Michael. I told you if you didn't pay me the money you owed me I'd take it out of your flesh. And if you dare insult my partner again, I'll kill you," Zak hissed at him.

That shut Mick up and he nodded.

Then his gaze slid to me and said - "I don't have the money. Not all of it."

"Wrong again, Michael. Tell me that. Not Sasha," Zak retorted.

Mick slid his gaze back to the glowering Zak and repeated his phrases.

"Any good reason why you don't have the money?" Zak asked.

Mick sighed before he admitted in a recalcitrant tone - "I had a quick bet on the horses. Just to get back some more money. I lost. Bet on the wrong fucking horse. I didn't know the bloody thing was lame."

I rolled my eyes at the tried-and-tested old excuse - any small-time punk worth their salt always tried winning money through placing bets on the horse races. It rarely worked - not when a person wanted it to, at any rate.

"Excuses," Zak said. "How much money have you got left?"

Mick told him and it was such a paltry amount that even Zak visibly winced.

"Fine, give me that then," Zak said before he flicked his gaze towards me. "Sasha? Care to do the honours, treacle, and escort this so-called gent to the suitcase?"

I let go of Mick for a few moments and at Zak's silent follow-up signal, I followed Mick so that the Irishman wouldn't try running away.

"I'm not gonna try no funny business," Mick snapped at me.

"I don't know that. Zak doesn't know that either," I said in return. "I'm going to follow you anyway."

"You always do what Zak tells you?" Mick asked as he rifled some money out of a suitcase.

I saw that he had more money in there than he'd told Zak he'd had and I swore at the Irishman as a consequence. I grabbed the suitcase and tucked it under my arm even as Mick yelled at me for being a thief.

"Sometimes, I do things even when Zak doesn't ask me to. Like now," I replied as I thumped a hand against the appropriated suitcase. "And watch who you're calling a thief, Michael. It's a case of the pot calling the kettle black at the moment, don't you think?"

Mick didn't seem to have an answer for mostly rhetorical question and I didn't even let him offer him one for fear of being subjected to even more lies. Instead, I turned around and led Mick into the other room; I then told Zak what had happened. Zak nodded and looked in the case. Though it wasn't nearly enough to repay Mike's debts, it still was a considerable amount and as I'd already noted, more than Mick said he had.

Without warning, Zak pinned Mike's hand down on the armchair and nodded at me to grab the now-yelling Irishman again. I did as he requested even as Mick screamed even louder and tried to wriggle away. Zak expertly carved two of Mike's fingers away from his hand and flung them on the floor.

"Next time, it's more fingers. If you still don't pay, it's your ear. If you still don't pay, it's something else entirely," Zak said as he pressed his knife into the crotch of Mike's trousers.

Mick screamed again and there was a distinct scent of urine hanging in the air. Zak looked disgusted by the Irishman's fouling of himself and wiped his blade on Mike's shirt before he walked away.

Zak clicked his fingers and said - "Sasha."

I picked up the suitcase and followed in his footsteps. I didn't even care that I was effectively being called like a dog. I was still a little stunned by what I'd seen in Mike's home. Zak didn't apologise for the occurrence nor did I ask for one. Instead, we drove back home in silence.

****

I woke in the morning, with Zak's arm around my waist and Zak himself snoring gently against the back of my neck. I had the world's worst headache, yet I felt loose-limbed and light. I frowned as I tried to remember the events of the night before and I could only remember piecemeal snapshots of what had happened. I vaguely remembered getting drunk with Zak after the episode with Mick and then the rest came in a jumble of nonsensical jargon - of ending up in bed with Zak and intense pleasure sparking through the drunken mess.

I gave a short sharp bark of laughter at even those fragmented memories, glad that they were piecemeal because of alcohol and not amnesia at that time. I found that though I had intended to wait before taking any further steps with Zak - because of my job - I still had no regrets over what had happened.

I smiled at Zak, pressed a kiss against his forehead and slipped away from under his arm to relieve myself in the en suite bathroom. It was the first time I'd ever been in there and was amused to find that the man had leopard print wallpaper in there. Why I thought that was funny, I didn't know.

"You left my bed, Sash," Zak said as he yawned his way into the room.

"I had to take a leak," I said with a diffident shrug as I washed my hands at the basin.

Zak merely shrugged himself and also took a leak.

He then glanced at me and smiled before he said - "We didn't take things so slowly, last night, did we?"

"No. I think it's past time to worry about that any more," I said softly, as I remembered how we'd both said - in our own ways - that we'd loved each other the day before. "In too deep now."In more ways than one, I added silently.

"No regrets?" Zak asked and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Absolutely not," I said and grinned at Zak's short sharp bark of a laugh.

"Glad to hear it. Me neither," Zak said and maintained eye contact as he did so.

I had no doubt that he was telling me the truth - doubly so given the persistent banter he'd poured on my head over the past few weeks. I supposed then that it was true what he'd often told me - when he decided he wanted something he didn't stop until he got it. I supposed that that really did include me.

"Next time that happens, let's do it without the alcohol, eh? I would like to remember what happens in the morning," I said and scratched at my beard thoughtfully.

Zak laughed sharply at my comment before he said - "Sure. Can't argue with that."

I felt a stab of relief at his confirmation that the previous night's activities were not going to be a one-off event. I knew that I also would not offer any more resistance in the future - considering one such shared night had already happened. It wasn't as though Stryker didn't know something was happening between Zak and me anyway; the way I felt about my job in that moment meant that I no longer cared about it.

I smiled wryly at his agreement before I said - "Glad to hear it. What's happening about Mick then anyway?"

"I'll give him time. If he doesn't cough up the dough, I have a plan," he replied. "And you're going to help me with it. "

"I thought I might," I said with a smile and left it that.

I had a feeling that that morning was one of those times when Zak didn't want to elaborate. His subsequent silence proved my suspicions correct and as there was no sense in pursuing further conversation, I moved to grab my hair clippers from the bag I kept in the cupboard. I started to shave my head and Zak watched with amused curiosity for a while before he too began to shave - his face and not his head. Even though he'd seen me with my hair out of its habitual braid, I supposed he'd never seen a Cossack shaving before and his silent curiosity amused me.

****