Zayne knew the morse code for that universal call for help and his heart lurched realizing that the detective must have done this before. Bodie must have needed help in the past and Zayne wondered what could have brought the young man here of all places looking for it.

With a loud creak, the gray metal door swung open to reveal an older gentleman with a sad smile and dark brown hair that was graying at the temples. He was dressed in a janitor's uniform but held his head high, clearly proud of the work he did. The man casually ushered them in and relocked the door with a loud click that echoed down the concrete hallway.

The gentleman looked first at Bodie, then at the stranger standing next to him. When his blue eyes met Zayne's gray ones, the man smiled understandingly and nodded once. It was as if he knew exactly why Bodie had brought him here.

"Thanks, Mr. Halliwell."

"Bodie, I told you not to call me that."

Mr. Halliwell looked back at Zayne. "I keep telling him to call me Frank but he never listens. Maybe if you start calling me Frank, he'll follow your lead."

Zayne smiled genuinely for the first time in a long while. And it felt good.

He held out his hand and Mr. Halliwell took it in his strong grasp. "Nice to meet you, Frank."

"You're a little early, aren't you?" Frank asked Bodie.

"It's alright, most people should be headed for the exit by now. We can still enjoy the quiet."

Frank agreed with a simple nod and moved out of the way. "You only have an hour, remember?"

"I remember. Thanks again, Mr. Halliwell. Come on, Mr. Matthews. Follow me."

Zayne chuckled. "Haven't I been doing that all day?"

Bodie looked at him as they made their way down the hall. "Yes, you have," he replied with a flirtatious grin. "That's good. I like when my partner follows orders," he added, his baritone voice charged with a dangerous carnality.

Zayne's legs nearly gave out at the sound of the detective's deep voice. He put a hand out on the cool concrete wall to steady himself. His entire body flooded with heat while shivers of intense desire fluttered down his spine. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure.

What...the hell...was THAT?!

He wanted to stop and make sense of what just happened but the detective kept walking, leaving Zayne no other option but to follow.

The smell of fish and chemicals was strong but not unpleasant. The pathway was clean with various items stored meticulously in labeled plastic containers along the side and in small rooms along the way. The loud hum of filters and pumps reverberated off the walls, their footsteps silenced by the life sustaining machinery.

The two men weaved their way through the back hallways passing a few employees on the way but none of them gave them a second look. Zayne's mind was quickly filling with questions he wanted to ask the young man in front of him so he started making a mental list. Eventually, Detective Hale stopped in front of a set of double doors and opened one for Zayne to walk through.

They entered a large darkened room where the largest exhibit in the aquarium was located. Zayne remembered coming to the aquarium when he was a kid but he had not been back since then. He read in the news years ago about the newest addition to the building but seeing it in person filled him with something he had lost long before he even knew he had it.

The wonder of a child.

There was no one else here. It was just the two of them. The blue light from the massive pool danced across the piano player's face in translucent waves. Zayne was mesmerized, lost in the beauty of nature spread out before him. The colors of the water reflected off his black hair giving each strand an iridescent glow.

He reached out and touched his fingertips to the cool window. A five-foot long black-tipped reef shark glided by and he was swept away in its elegance and fluid grace. The animal's silver toned scales glittered in the water and Zayne's gray eyes sparkled with fascination.

Colorful reef fish appeared and disappeared, none the wiser to the stranger watching them. Blues, reds, yellows, greens and every color in between were painted precisely on all shapes and sizes of fish. They were like a living underwater rainbow, moving to a melody only they could hear.

Zayne was so completely engrossed in the scene before him he failed to notice the detective moving to stand directly behind him. He wanted to look back at the young man but found he could not look away from the fish. The way they moved so freely in the water had a calming effect on his soul no amount of meditation could equal.

"Breathe." Without thinking, Zayne inhaled deeply, held his breath, and then exhaled slowly.

"Good. Again."

Detective Hale's deep, breathy voice felt like the first sip of hot chocolate, its warmth seeping into the core of Zayne's body. It was both calming and electrifying, gentle yet commanding. It left no possibility for resistance. Over and over Zayne breathed deeply and slowly as Bodie's repeated words floated across his body like the tranquil waves of the ocean. Each time he heard the detective's hypnotizing voice, Zayne slipped deeper into a relaxed state.

When Bodie saw the piano player's shoulders slacken and his head fall slightly back, he took Zayne's arm and led him to a carpeted seating area in the middle of the room.

"Better?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, thank you. Do you come here often?"

"Only after really bad days. And you seemed like you had a bad one today."

Zayne looked at the detective with inquisitive eyes. The questions he'd been collecting all day jockeyed for position to be the first one to leave his lips. Thankfully, or maybe regrettably, Detective Hale picked up on the fact that Zayne was extremely curious about him.

"What do you want to know, Mr. Matthews?"

"Zayne, please. Mr. Matthews was my father."

He stared at the detective, trying to decide where to start his interrogation. Best to start simple.

"How old are you, Detective Hale?"

The detective coughed on the spit he was in the process of swallowing.

"Well, you certainly don't waste time! I like that. Direct. So, I'll give you direct answers. First, my name is Bodie. My title is Detective. And no one calls me by my last name."

"My apologies...Bodie." Zayne's insides trembled when he said the detective's name. It felt so natural, the sound of it so perfect on his lips.

Bodie slid a little closer to him, their knees lightly touching.

"I'll expect direct answers from you, as well, Zayne. This is your chance to get to know me. And, if we're going to be working closely together, I need to get to know you better, as well."

Zayne nodded. How could he not? It was only fair, right?

"I'm currently twenty-eight years old but my birthday is next month," Bodie answered. "My turn. How old are you? You look like you could be younger than me but I know that's not right."

Zayne smiled shyly and shook his head gently. "I'm thirty-four and thank you."

He thought about his next question carefully. There were so many to pick from his mental list but he wanted to make the most of this opportunity. In the end, he chose one that had been eating at his insides like a voracious beetle.

"How do you know Molly and Frank?"

"That's an easy one. I saved Molly from a mugger my first year on the force. Back when I used to live here. Frank, well, I grew up next to him. He's like a father to me."

Zayne could see the loving look in Bodie's eyes and wondered why the detective would need an alternate father figure in his life. What about his own father? He wanted to ask that question but Zayne did not want to go there about his own family so he filed it away for later.

"Why did you knock SOS on the door?"

"Oops! Sorry, Sketch. It's my turn," Bodie corrected. "Let's see. There's been a question I've wanted to ask you but it's a bit personal."

Zayne scooted back an inch from the man currently peering at him. A feeling of uneasiness at what Bodie's next words would be had him sweating underneath his clothes. He waited guardedly, dreading what personal thing the detective wanted to know about him. But the young man just kept staring at him. Bodie didn't even blink, frozen like a statue. Except for his eyes.

In those exotically pale eyes, Zayne felt a familiarity. He felt a pull on his heart with every flicker of light reflected off the detective's searching gaze. Whatever connection was forming between them, Zayne had a feeling that he could trust Bodie, that he could answer whatever question the detective asked next with absolute honesty.

However, it didn't matter what his heart wanted. His mind was the voice of reason and it was currently screaming at him to keep his ability a secret. Even from the sexy detective who was still staring at him like he was waiting for Zayne to say something.

"Uh, Bodie?" Zayne said, waving a hand in front of Bodie's face.

"Shit! Sorry. Okay, here it is. Umm...what's your favorite color?"

"That's your personal question?"

"Yeah. What did you think I was gonna ask?"

Zayne huffed in relief and shook his head. He felt so stupid. "Nothing."

"So? What is it?"

"Red. Yours?"

"Green. Favorite food?"

"Mac-n-cheese. You go."

"Pizza. What's the one song you can listen to on repeat and never get tired of hearing it?"

For the next half hour, the two men sat in the darkened room illuminated by the ocean's blue shimmer. They asked and answered, pushed and pulled, until they were both smiling and laughing like old friends reconnecting. There was playful teasing and sarcastic comebacks but nothing that could be taken seriously. Neither man was willing to risk hurting the other. There was too much at stake right now.

However, Zayne couldn't get one question out of his mind. It had been bugging him ever since Bodie said that he used to live in Baltimore. He didn't want to overstep his position, but, as the detective's new partner, Zayne felt it was something he needed to know.

"Why did you move to D.C.?"

Bodie's soft smile faded, his golden eyes falling away.

"Mostly work. They had a rise in murders, some of which seemed similar, so they called me in. But...there were other reasons, too."

Whatever the detective wasn't telling him, Zayne understood it was too difficult and personal for the young man to talk about. He could see it in Bodie's eyes, in the way his jaw twitched ever so slightly. There was a waver in the youngster's voice that had Zayne sliding a few inches closer to the now slightly withdrawn detective. He was about to reach out for Bodie's hand when the detective took a deep breath, shook himself, and looked back at Zayne as if nothing had happened.

"My turn," he said excitedly. "So, what do you do when you're not sketching killers? Hmmm?"

Zayne pressed his lips together tightly. A tiny voice inside him whispered 'Tell him'. The words he wanted to say buzzed against his tongue, prying at his lips to reach open air. He closed his eyes and swallowed them back down. But the voice refused to let him off so easily. It spoke up again, louder this time, and murmured, 'Trust him'. Zayne tried to ignore it. But the desire of his heart and soul would not be silent.

However, his frightened yet logical mind shouted 'He's gonna think you're crazy! Don't do it! over his needy impulsive side. He could literally see the imaginary figures of good and evil, angel and devil, sitting on his shoulders, begging him to listen to them. In the end, Zayne decided telling the detective that he had visions and could see through the eyes of a psychopathic serial killer was not something he was ready to do. 

At least, not yet. For both their sakes.

Looking down at his shoes, he began fiddling with his thumbs.

"I'm an elementary school music teacher."

"What?! A music teacher? Really?"

"Mmhmm."

"Wow. I did not see that one coming."

Zayne lifted his head and stared into the detective's honey colored eyes, fascinated with how the flickering blue of the water created flecks of azure amongst the gold.

"Who gave you those?" he asked breathily.

Bodie held Zayne's gaze and answered, "My mom."

"Are your parents...?"

"Do you gyp in line at amusement parks, Sketch? Rude."

Zayne glared at him. But the smile that spread across his lips was completely harmless.

"So, what's your heritage, music teacher? I suspect at least part Chinese if not full. You speak the language yet your accent is definitely American."

Zayne's smile vanished instantly. "How did you know I speak Chinese? I've never spoken it inside the station."

Bodie froze.

Shit!

 "But you've slipped under my skin, invaded my blood and seized my heart." ― Maria V. Snyder