Shanghai

By Paul Sung

Published on Mar 7, 2004

Gay

DISCLAIMER ==========

This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights (copyright (c) 2004 - psun@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males:

  • if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.

And any comments - brickbats or bouquets, send them over to psun@hotmail.com And if you find that you like what you're reading, visit my page at http://www.geocities.com/savante_2002

Lieutenant Adam Li was nothing if not thorough in his examination as he slowly, exactingly went through every minute of that day. After ponderously going through with the detective what he'd said earlier in the initial interview, Quinn finally relented and agreed to show him the family's prized collection of daggers. It had been in the family for generations, started by the redoubtable Lady Jasmine Post and had been added on by the succeeding genertaions. It not only housed daggers and weapons from various Asian countries but also priceless instruments of death from other cultures as well. The Post family had always been fascinated with death, it seems.

Slightly overawed by the collection, Adam ran his fingers lightly over the glass casing and Quinn wished the cop would do the same on him. "You have quite an extensive collection of daggers."

Adam's enthusiasm was palpable and Quinn had to smile at his enthusiasm - certainly understandable with his martial arts background and I wondered just what he could do with one of those elegant blades in his hands. The dangerous looking, two-handed sword he was looking at would suit those hands, strong, capable hands. Thoughts of what else his hands could do prompted him to add enthusiastically. "If you like this, Lieutenant, you should really see my etchings."

"My God." The cliched expression finally had the detective laughing as he turned to Quinn with a twinkle of amusement in his serious dark eyes. "You really are impossible."

Funny what brings a man to his downfall but the sound of that laugh easily brought Quinn to his knees. Deep, resonant, almost hypnotic. It almost had Quinn falling to his knees with a ring in hand. Almost. "Glad to see you have a funny bone somewhere in that starched-up suit."

"Mr Post, this is a murder investigation .."

"Yes, as you keep reminding me." Quinn sighed quietly as he watched Adam return to the cool cop persona. Hoping to distract him from whatever he was thinking, Quinn drew him back to the collection and started his spiel. "Everyone in the family has a dagger. Since my great-great grandfather escaped an assassin's knife with his own years back, we've all been given a dagger on our 12th birthday. Dangerous times, I should think, and the Posts have always had their enemies. Although it doesn't serve its purpose anymore as a source of protection, the ritual has become quite the tradition in my family."

Drawing his attention to a particular case, Quinn's smile slowly faded as he recognized his own. Usually it brought a smile to his face but this time, it would always be tainted by the memory of that slim blade embedded deep into his uncle's chest. "Since I had a love for family lore and antiques obviously, my grandfather gave me the daggers that belonged to the first Lady Post. Elegant twin pearl-handled daggers, one of them that you see here and you already know what's happened to the other."

Lieutenant Li bent over the case, studying the blade. "So logically, you'd be the first suspect?"

"Yes, I believe so." Quinn gripped the edge of the table hard, his face hardening. It was difficult enough to imagine the thought that one of his own cousins had tried to implicate him in his uncle's death. Or at least meant for it to be a sign of some sort. But what? He had been brought up together with Makoto and Ai Ling, almost side by side. And although we had moved apart geographically, Quinn had always believed that he still maintained a close bond with the rest of his cousins. The thought that someone in the family had meant for this to hurt him in some way was chilling. "It is hard for me to believe something like that, Lieutenant. Hard to believe that someone in my family could be involved in this. Although I admit we don't see each other as often as we should, I've always believed that we maintained a close bond with each other."

Whatever his thoughts on the subject, the detective maintained his silence. Instead of lingering over the dagger he had mentioned as expected, Adam moved on to the next exhibit, a singularly menacing looking blade with a scowling demon-head for a handle. "These daggers for a 12 year old?" Adam frowned in disapproval.

The inflection of horror in his voice was enough to make Quinn smile again. "Barbaric, I know. But then again the Post family loves tradition." he shrugged easily. "Each dagger is unique to the owner, almost like a signature sign. Like Makoto's dagger was made as a replica of his Japanese grandfather's samurai sword. I believe he uses it as a letter opener in his office."

"Letter opener?" The detective's voice shook as he shot a quick, surprised glance back at Quinn.

There was a laugh in the detective's eye again and Quinn added with a pleased grin. "Quite useful. For the occasional old-fashioned mail. Another tradition in our family."

"And is murder also a tradition in your family?"

It was a question that he'd asked of himself since the death less than a week ago and he didn't quite like the answers that he received. Activating the code for the case, Quinn lifted the cover and slid the blade out of its delicately carved stand. "Yes. I believe the first Post dispatched quite a few ruffians in his time. And since my great-great grandfather survived that knife, I assume the assassin didn't survive for long. No one has been involved in any such crime recently however." It was a hope that Quinn carried but he couldn't be sure. In the next few weeks, he would no doubt be slowly drawn into the quagmire of family life - and the heavy responsibility of the company that came with it. His far-flung relatives from all four corners of the globe - and even those from off-planet would return for the reading of the will and then he would face his enemy.

But the time for that would come and Quinton Post was a man who knew how to enjoy the present. A tall, cool drink of water was standing in front of him and something told him that the upright young Lieutenant Li would be quite a distraction. Turning to the handsome detective, he flashed a devious smile. "But that's not the only tradition that we hold dear."

"No?" Disrupted from his rapt study of the blade, Adam looked up in surprise.

"Oddly enough, the men in the Post family have always had a predilection for those from the Fuzhou region. Where did you say you're from, Lieutenant Li?"

"I never said."

Although the detective turned away, the colour staining his high cheekbones betrayed him and Quinn smiled to himself. No doubt Lady Jasmine Post would be pleased to have one of her own kin back in the family.

"I think that's enough for now, Mr Post - I mean, Quinn," Adam corrected himself as he excused himself. His face was perfectly grave but the slight tremor in his measured tone revealed his feelings. "I hope you will remain in contact.."

Faced with personal questions, the man couldn't find his escape soon enough and Quinn grinned. "No worries about that. You won't be losing sight of me anytime soon, Lieutenant."

Adam's face flushed and he turned to walk away. The flush colouring his cheekbones only made him all the more intriguing to Quinn. This was a man reputed to be able to use anything - even a blunt-edged pencil as a killing weapon. This was a man who leapt from the second floor to face down a gang of musclebound thugs in the seamy streets of Shanghai armed only with his bare fists. And yet Mr All-around Resourceful Tough Guy blushed when Quinn made an innuendo.

As Adam turned to leave, Quinn reached for him and placed a hand on his broad shoulder. The man made no reply, only turning his head to look at Quinn. If Quinn had earlier imagined him cold and emotionless, his doubts were laid to rest forever. Those dark eyes were hot with so much lust and emotion that it almost knocked him back on his feet.

Quinn's pulse speeded up. "Lieutenant.."

"Master Quinn." The one constant in his life was Cheng, the tall, slim butler his father had hired years back. Since he was a small child romping through the endless corridors of Post Mansion, Cheng had stood guard, watching him with those implacable eyes. Despite the obvious deference showed to him on occasion, with one cool look, Cheng could still reduce him to a six year old child again.

Seeing the dour old man standing at the doorway, Quinn flashed an impish smile. "Yes, Cheng. I was just about to put the moves on the Lieutenant."

"Quinn." The faint flush on Adam's cheekbones turned darker and he batted my hand away from his shoulder.

Used to Quinton's odd brand of humour, Cheng was unfazed. "Be that as it may, master, I believe dinner is ready."

As silently and unobtrusively as he'd appeared, Cheng took his leave, heading back towards the dining room. Knowing the request for what it actually was - which was an order, Quinn turned back to Adam with a barely repressed grin. "Lieutenant Li? Adam?"

The colour in his cheeks had faded away. He looked back at me and there was a different expression on his face, something almost comically fearful. "I think it's quite alright. I think I should be going then, Mr Post. Enjor your dinner."

Quite unlike the self-assured man who'd stepped into my apartment, he know looked uncommonly like a frightened fawn caught in the headlights and that came as a surprise to Quinn. There was no perceptible wavering on the Lieutenant's part and anyone glancing over the surface wouldn't have noticed the palpable fear in those dark, near unfathomable eyes. "As you said, the interview's done. The official part is over. Surely even a dedicated cop takes some time off for a meal?"

"I.."

"It's red wine chicken." Quinn promised. "Real meat, I swear, none of that vegechicken stuff. From our farms on Delta IV."

The detective flushed but his grin widened slightly. "You've done your homework."

"I always try to find out as much as I can about the things that interest me," Quinn moved forward, slowly propelling him to the door with an insistent hand on the detective's back. Red wine chicken was a local dish the detective favoured and Quinton had made it a point to remember. The fragrant, tangy chicken wine soup was evidently a famous delicacy from Li's hometown.

Pausing at the open doorway, Adam turned to him, the beginnings of a smile turning up his lips. "Do you always come on this hard on unsuspecting men or is it just me?"

"No one can say that I don't go for what I want." And right now, it seemed as if the detective was on Quinton Post's main menu. From what he could feel under the detective's heavy jacket, the man's enviable physique certainly lived up to expectation and although Quinn would have enjoyed sending his hand even lower down for a quick grope, he realized that it was too much too soon.

Adam replied coolly. "Even someone who isn't interested?"

"And you're not?" he countered easily. They were standing close together at the doorway, their faces barely inches apart and Quinn breathed in the clean, sharp scent of the detective's sweat. Sunshine, male sweat and Adam Li. It was an aroma that Quinn felt he could certainly get used to.

Faced with Quinn's intent scrutiny, the detective's intent gaze fell. "Look, Quinn, this can't go anywhere."

If Quinton could stand up and begin the dance of victory, he certainly would have but he figured Adam didn't need to know that he was a bigger freak than he already appeared to be. Trying to avoid the subject, the detective didn't make any attempt to deny the fact and his cautious reply only made Quinn's confident smile become wider. For all intents and purposes, it hadn't been a no. So perhaps he had made more of an impression on the unflappable cop than he'd imagined. "Just dinner. Food, drinks, pleasant conversation. Nothing up my sleeve, I promise."

That made Adam smile reluctantly. "That's what they always say."

"No poison in the food." Pleased that the detective was finally seeing his way, Quinn grinned. "Well, maybe an aphrodisiac or two."

That certainly got the cop's attention as Adam raised a dark brow. "Illegals?"

Although the rules for certain chems had been relaxed in the past decade, there were still some chemicals rated illegal. It would be easy enough however for a man like Quinton Post to get his hands on a few chemical inducements, enough dosage to put even the buttoned-up detective in the right mood. Imagining Adam Li hard, pliant and ever so willing under the influence was titillating to be sure but that wasn't Quinton's style. Not only did he not need to resort to such underhanded tactics, he also preferred his lovers to be perfectly aware of their actions. "You gonna cuff me, Lieutenant?"

The serious look in his face faded away and Adam's lips twitched with amusement. "I would but I think you'd probably enjoy that just a little too much."

Quinn laughed at his droll expression. Humour rated high in his criteria for eligible men and he was glad that beneath the starched-up suit, there was evidently some small glimmer of humour. "See, you already know me so well. Move in with me then."

The laughter in his eyes faded away. "I don't.."

"Did I actually say move in? So terribly sorry, that came out six months too soon." Quinn teased him with a warm smile. The detective had reached his hand back to massage the back of his neck and he wondered whether the man was quite as nervous as he. "Dinner only."

"You're very persistent." Adam sighed.

Bargaining was always Quinton's best quality and in the family, he was known for having a way with words but for the first time, he found himself almost stumbling over them as he tried to find a way to keep Adam from leaving. Truth seemed to be the easiest way to disarm the man. "Don't worry, Lieutenant. I promise not to proposition you tonight. You'll go home tonight, untouched and unmolested, while I toss and turn in my bed, dreaming of you."

"Damn." The quick flush of colour flooded his dark face again. Painfully aware that he was acting like a terrified Victorian virgin, Adam laughed nervously. "Fine. Just dinner. You'd better live up to your end of the bargain."

"No propositions. At least not tonight."

Adam finally smiled, a flash of humour glinted in his dark eyes. "You know I'm doing it only for the real chicken."


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