Author's webpage: http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Coffeehouse/8590/RSSindex.html

Author's disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. Please don't sue.

Author's notes: Posting for an author not currently subbed to SXF. Please direct all feedback to Sonny Ray at GniteJboy@aol.com

Secret Admirer
By Sonny Ray

Detective Josiha Rafe smiled to himself as he entered the Major Crimes bullpen. There on his desk, for the fifth consecutive day, sat a single yellow rose.

"She must have it really bad for you, partner," Henri Brown conjectured, slapping Rafe on the back.

"Jealous, H?" the younger man grinned, pulling a small card from the holder in the vase.

"Jealous of some crazed secret admirer, I think not," Brown answered , as he tried to read the card over his partner's shoulder.

"I'll just save this for later," Rafe tensed, tucking the card into his inside coat pocket.

"It's just like the other four," H refuse to take the bait.

"Just says 'an admirer'."

"Maybe, she reveals herself this time."

"You know," Brown began as he sat on the corner of Rafe's desk. "It's probably Marge down in traffic."

"Marge?" Rafe honestly couldn't put a face to the name.

"Looks like a cross between a fullback and a pit bull."

"OH," Rafe cringed at the memory of the woman.

"Good morning, all!" Joel Taggert's joyful voice called as he joined the morning crew.

"Hey, Joel." Brown returned.

"Morning Joel," Rafe smile, quickly looking from the rose to Taggert and back.

"Ah, I see the secret admirer stuck again." Joel said, stepping up to Rafe's desk, then bending to smell of the yellow bud. "Someone really adores you, young man."

"I just wish I knew who," Rafe confessed with sigh.

"Still no ideas?" Taggert asked, his voice carrying a tone of casual inquisitiveness as he moved on to his own desk.

"I have a hunch," the younger detective answered, turning to face Taggert.

"Who?!" Brown inquired. "Come on partner, spill the beans. What fair lady have you won the heart of?"

"Nope," Rafe said, turning back to open a file folder on his desk. "I'm not speculating out loud. I just hope it's who I think it is. Besides if we don't have our report on the Fisher case on the captain's desk by the time he comes in, he'll make both of us into doggy treats for Marge."

"Eech," Brown shuddered at the mention of the case he and Rafe were working one. "Maybe your admirer is that crazy liberian. And she wants to add you to her collection."

It was now Rafe's turn to shudder at the thought of the ten mummified corpses they'd found sitting around in the condemned downtown library. All the evidence was pointing to the former head liberian Wilhelmina Fisher.

Rafe shuffled through the papers in the file, not really concentrating on any of them. He glanced over at his partner who was busy typing on his computer. Satisfied he now had a minute free from prying eyes, Rafe pulled the small card from his coat pocket.

//Dinner, tonight? Eight sharp, at The White Heron.//

'The White Heron'. The young detective thought, tucking the card back into his pocket. He'd heard of Cascade's newest eatery, but hadn't had the chance to check it out. Seemed that was about to change, though.

Accepting the claim ticket for his car Rafe made his way into The White Heron. Multi-tiered plants and a small waterfall greeted the detective in the alcove of the restaurant. Mirrors along the opposite wall gave the illusion of walking through a natural canyon.

"One for dinner?" the hostess asked as Rafe pulled his coat off.

"Actually I'm meeting someone."

"Name?"

"Rafe," He gave his own name since he didn't know his dinner partner's identity for certain.

The young woman checked the book before her. "Yes, there's a note here that your guest will be a few minutes late. Your table is ready. Would you like to set there or wait here?" she indicated a leather bench along the mirrored wall.

"Table, please," Rafe answered then followed the woman across the room to a corner table. It sat slightly away from the other tables, obviously it was suppose to be considered secluded. He very much approved.

"May I?" the hostess indicated his coat.

"Thank you," Rafe handed her his jacket. Choosing not to watch for his 'secret admirer', Rafe settled into the chair with his back to the room.

"Would you like a drink while you wait?"

"Mineral water," he wanted to be clear headed for this night.

"I'll have your waiter right out with it," the hostess smiled and left.

Within a minute a glass of bubbling water was set down in front of the detective.

"Is there anything else I can get you while you wait?" A very attractive blond waiter asked.

"No. But thanks for asking."

"Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you." The flirtatious tone in the man's voice was not missed by Rafe.

Sipping the cool water, Rafe lost himself in thoughts of his secret admirer. He had a hope of the identity, but some how still knew he was probably wrong. So, involved in his speculation that he never heard the object of those thoughts approach the table.

"Have I made a total fool of myself?"

Rafe looked up, he had been right in his assumptions of his admirer's identity. A smile spread across his handsome face as he stood up.

"No, not at all," he assured Joel Taggert, as he reached out for the yellow rose the older man held. He let his hand gently squeeze Taggert's hand as reaffirmation of his words before taking the flower.

The ex-bomb squad captain felt his breath catch in his throat. After months of talking himself into approaching Rafe, he now found he was terrified. He had not dated in almost twenty years, not since his courtship of his now ex-wife. Even though this was not the first time he had been attracted to a man, this was the first time he was letting himself act on it.

Seeing the mixed emotions warring across Taggert's face, Rafe prayed 'please don't let him get cold feet on me now'. He wanted this. He had been attracted to the older man for years, and this desire moved him to do what could have been very dangerous. He quickly glance about the room and seeing no one paying particular attention to them, took a step closer to Joel.

"Thank you," he said as his lips whispered a kiss to Taggert's cheek.

Rafe took his seat, "Join me?" he waved toward the chair opposite him when Taggert just stood there with a stunned look on his face.

Joel unbuttoned the jacket of the charcoal gray suit he wore, before sitting down.

"That's a new suit, isn't it?" Rafe begin small talk.

"I've had it awhile," Joel answered absently straightening the black, gray and red striped tie as he thought to himself, //three months to be exact, I bought it when I decided I'd ask you out//.

"Just didn't remember seeing you wear it before. It looks great on you, especially with the black shirt."

It was then that the waiter decided to make his appearance with menus.

"I'm Roger, I'll be your server for the evening. Our specials tonight are red salmon broiled with lemon butter and served with steamed mixed vegetables. And lamb chops seasoned with mint jelly and served with fresh asparagus. Would you like to see our wine list?"

Rafe and Taggert exchanged questioning looks before answering.

"Actually I think I'll just stay with the mineral water," Rafe said.

"Water will be fine with me, also." Taggert agreed, but added. "But just water, with some lemon."

"I'll bring you your water while you look over the menus."

Opening his menu, Rafe said, "I hope the food here is as good as the decor." He then looked about the dark paneled walls, lit here and there with crystal scones and the plants and water falls motif from the foyer was carried without the rest of the building.

"It is." Joel assured the younger man. "I ate here after reading it's review in last week's Post's food section. I tried a dozen places before finding this one. I didn't want some place that was just nice. I wanted one that was special." Taggert looked down at his hands that were worrying his napkin. He hadn't meant to tell Rafe about his long search, it had just came out.

Rafe reached across the small table and grasped Joel's hand with his. "It's very special, to me," he slowly stroked the top of Taggert's hand with his thumb. "Because I'm finally where I've wanted to be for a long time."

"Have we decided yet," Roger's voice broke through to them as he sat down a water glass with a large wedge of lemon hooked over the lip.

Taggert started to pull his hand from Rafe's grasp, but the younger man wouldn't let go.

"I'll have the salmon," Rafe said. "But could I have a baked potato instead of the vegetables?"

"Of course? And you, sir?" The waiter automatically asked Joel. He then looked down at their hands and softly signed.

"The salmon as well, with the vegetables." Joel answered.

"Very good, I'll have your meals out to you, shortly." Roger smiled before turning to leave.

Rafe squeezed Joel's hand and released it. He picked up his rose and smelled of it. "I can't believe you remembered about the yellow roses."

"I just did," Joel shrugged, then took a long drink of his water. "You remember what friends say are their favorite things."

"But it was just an off comment I made about the flowers we all got for Simon when he was released from the hospital last year."

Joel shuddered slightly at the memory of his best friend being shot and then almost killed by hospital staff that were supposed to help him. But when all had worked out and Simon Banks was back at work all of the major crimes detectives had pitched together for flowers, Rafe had suggested yellow roses because they were his favorite.

Laying the rose back onto the table Rafe said, "I also remember you said your favorite flower was gladiolas, because your grandmother always grew them in front of the house you were raised in."

Taggert stared at the young man. He couldn't believe he remember about that.

Understanding the look on his dinner partner's face, Rafe smiled, "You remember what friends say," repeating back Taggert's words to him.

Both man were laughing when Roger reappeared with their meals. Setting the plates before the men, he asked, "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"No, not now," Taggert answered.

The blond smiled at Rafe and left.

"Hey, you got squash," Rafe observed of Joel's vegetables. "They didn't say you'd get squash."

"Carrots and broccoli, too," Taggert said, piercing a baby carrot.

"I love squash," the younger detective confessed looking longingly at the other man's plate.

"That's a new one," Joel chuckled. "I've never heard anyone say they love squash."

"But I hate asparagus," Rafe said, sticking out his tongue like a kid who'd just tasted something he didn't like.

"I totally agree. Tell you what," Joel began, leaning forward, "I'll give you my squash if you give me half your baked potato."

"Deal!"

Rafe moved aside the bowl of carnations that sat in the center of the table. He scutted his plate closer to Taggert's. The older man sperated the yellow squash from his other vegetables as the young detective cut his potato in half. Both laughed as they quickly made the food exchange, glancing around the room to see if they were being watched.

Slowing chewing, and savoring the light buttery taste, Rafe said, "This is really good."

"So's this potato," Joel said of the baked spud he had added a generous amount of sour cream to.

Spearing a bite of salmon, and chewing, Rafe sighed as if he was in heaven. "Joel, this is wonderful."

Taggert took a bite of his own fish, "Hum, this is better than the sea bass I had last week and I thought it was the best fish I'd ever eaten."

"How's your food?" Roger's voice pulled them for their appreciation of the meal.

"Great," Rafe answered after swallowing.

"The salmon is excellent," Taggert confirmed.

"I see we've been sharing our veggies," the waiter said in a sing-song, almost scolding, tone. He then leaned closer to Joel and lowered his voice. "Are we open to sharing other things, too?" he asked glancing toward Rafe.

"NO," Taggert's answer was a deep, territorial growl. "Now can you get us more water."

"Of course, sir," Roger quickly retreated and returned with a pitcher to refill Taggert's glass and a another glass filled with mineral water for Rafe.

"I think you put the fear of God into him," Rafe smiled.

"The fear of Joel Taggert at least."

The younger detective laughed, his smile threatening to split his face.

//God, he is so beautiful when he does that// Taggert thought. A wave of uncertainty passed through him as he again doubted the other man could actually be interested in a grizzled old veteran like himself.

Seeing Taggert's eyes cloud with something close to sadness Rafe spoke out, "I wasn't lying earlier. I'm dining with someone I've wanted to spend an evening alone with and," his tone lowered to what Taggert could only call a seductive purr. "I hope this is only the beginning."

Joel shifted slightly in his chair, easing the tightness he was suddenly feeling in his tousers. Rafe grinned as though he knew the older man's reason for movement, but didn't say anything, he only continued with his meal.

The food was finished with only a word or two comment now and then breaking their comfortable silence.

"They have a wonderful dessert selection here," Joel told his companion.

"Cheesecake?" Rafe asked hopefully.

"Several varities if I remember right. I had a wonderful bread pudding last week."

Rafe watched the older man lick his lips as he remembered the dessert, and he lost all interest in food.

Taggert may not have dated in almost two decades, but he instantly recognized the open look of lust that darkened Rafe's eyes. Again his tousers grew uncomfortably tight and all he wanted was to get out of the restaurant. Seeing their waiter Joel signaled him over.

"Can I show you our desert tray or would you just like some coffee?" Roger asked.

"No," both men answered.

"Just... the bill," Joel said, handing the waiter his credit card to save delays.

"Joel, I should..."

Taggert shot Rafe a look that said "not another word".

"What you can do is give me a lift home." the ex-bomb squad captain said. "The reason I was late was because my car wouldn't start."

"It's the least I can do," The younger man smiled suggestively.

"Your check," The waiter handed a small black booklet to Joel. "You can sign it and just leave it on the table."

Joel slipped the credit card back into his wallet, then scribbled what could be taken for a signure on the ticket after adding a tip.

Gathering their coats from the hostess, the two detectives made their way out into a chilling rain. Rafe handed his ticket to the parking valet and moved to stand under the small awning with Taggert. He reached out, stroking the sleeve of Joel's black leather coat.

"This new?" he asked as he lost himself in the buttery soft feel.

Joel chuckled, "This coat is probably older than you".

Rafe glared as to say 'I'm older than I look'.

"This is just the first winter I've been able to fit into it in years."

"You should wear it more," The younger man said, sliding his hand up and down Taggert's back.

A shiver ran through the older man, and it had nothing to do with the weather.

"Here we go," Rafe called, as his dark blue Pathfinder was pulled up to the curb.

Rafe knew the way to Joel's home as well as he did his own. The Major Crime gang met there at least once a month for a friendly game of poker. He liked the neighborhood the older detective lived in. Most of the houses had been there for decades and had large trees and well kept lawns. He turned onto a cul-da-sac and stopped before a red brick with white trimmed house.

"How about some coffee?" Taggert asked, unbuckling his seat belt.

"Love some," Rafe said, turning the 4x4's engine off.

Inside, Taggert hung their coats on the antique hall tree that stood to the right of his front door.

"Make yourself comfortable," Joel waved toward the living room. "I'll be right back," and headed down the hallway that turned to the left.

Rafe moved on into the large room that was both a living and dining room. Heading straight to the stereo, he turn it on. The sound of a saxman blowing soulful blues music began to fill the room. Satisfied with the station he nervously prowled around the room.

"Sorry," Joel apologized. "Call of nature."

Rafe quickly took in that the older man had rid himself of the his jacket and tie.

"I'll get the coffee started," Taggert walked through the room and into the kitchen.

Throwing his own jacket and tie over the back of one of the dining table chairs, Rafe followed into the kitchen.

"Regular or decaf?" Joel ask holding a can in each hand.

"I don't want any coffee, Joel," Rafe said, taking the coffee from the older man's hands and sitting it on the counter.

The younger man took a step closer and wrapped one hand around the back of Taggert's neck. He gently pulled the older man toward him until their lips met. Rafe had meant the kiss to be just a quick, questioning one. Just to find out if this was truly how Joel wanted the night to end. But once their lips touched, he couldn't stop. He wanted more, and since Taggert moved closer, it seemed the feelings were mutual.

Joel wrapped his arms around Rafe, pulling the younger man tightly to him. His hands ran across the board back and down to cup Rafe's buttocks.

A groan of pleasure sounded from Rafe as Taggert's fingers pressed into his butt cheeks, forcing his growing erection into Joel's hip. His mouth moved from the older man's and traveled down his throat. He released the hold he had around the taller man's neck to move his hand between them and began to unbutton the black shirt. Rafe lowered his head kissing skin as he exposed it.

Taggert found himself pressed back against the kitchen counter, his knees threatening to give way. His hands now traveled up to Rafe's shoulders, then into his hair.

"Rafe," Taggert couldn't believe the breathlessness that was in his voice. Rafe was now unbuckling his belt. "Rafe!" He pulled the younger man's head upward. "Bedroom."

"Here's fine," Rafe whispered, kissing Taggert's chest.

"No," Joel spoke forcibly, but softly. He held Rafe's face between his hands and slowly, deeply kissed him. "This isn't some teenage quicky. I want to take some time with you."

Rafe's eyes grew large, "Yeah?"

"Yes," Joel kissed the younger man again.

"Bedroom, then." Rafe agreed, pulling away from Joel,then extended his hand to him.

Shoes, shirts and pants were all shed as they made their way to Taggert's bedroom. Once there Joel turned to stare at the almost nude young man. He was indeed beautiful, but what was drawing Taggert"s attention was Rafe's chest.

"Your nipples," Taggert reached out both hands, his thumbs brushing against the gold hoops that pierced both of Rafe's nipples.

"I can remove 'em if they bother you," Rafe offered, reaching upward.

"No, it's not that," Joel continued to stroke the rings. "I've never actually seen anyone with pierced nipples, except in movies."

"I've got to check out your video collection, Old Man," Rafe jested.

"Old Man," Taggert growled. "I'll show you old man." In one swift movement Taggert pulled Rafe's black briefs to his knees and pushed him backwards onto the bed. He stood there just looking at the young man sprawled atop his bed.

"Join me," Rafe smiled, holding his arms out to the older man.

Joel pulled his shorts off and crawled onto the bed. He took hold of Rafe's briefs, pulling them the rest of the way off. His hand ran up the inside of the younger man's right leg until it reached his erection. As Taggert brushed past the hard cock he leaned forward to capture Rafe's mouth.

Rafe opened his mouth inviting Joel to plunder it. Their tongues danced with each other in a tango of lust.

Taggert pulled back from Rafe's lips, kissing down his throat, chest and stopping at one pieced nipple. His lips sucked at the hard nub and his tongue pulled at the gold ring running through it. Joel's hand played back and forth across the younger detective's straining cock until at last he curled his fingers around its hardness.

"God, oh god, Joel," Rafe moaned, his hips rising and falling with the rhythm Taggert sat with his stroking hand.

It didn't take much to send the young man over the edge. An orgasm ran is tingling fingers up his back bone as he felt his balls tighten against his body.

Hot stickiness erupted over Taggert's hand. He bit down on the nipple he suckled at and continued to stroke Rafe's cock.

"JOEL!" His body heaved up from the bed as he released even more cum over the older man's hand.

Releasing the now spent penis, Taggert rose up to cover his young lover's gasping mouth. A smile pulled Rafe's lips from his and Joel watched mesmerized as the other detective took hold of his hand and lifted it to his mouth. His eyes slide slowly closed as Rafe licked each of his fingers, then palm, clean. With little urging the bigger man let himself be rolled onto his back.

Rafe loomed over Taggert, smiling wickedly. He lowered his head to thoroughly kiss Joel's lips before traveling downward. He stopped to suckle at one nipple, then the other, lingering long enough to bring each to erect, little nubs.

Placing wet, open mouth kisses as he went, Rafe made his way to Taggert's groin. In one swift movement the younger man deep throated Joel's hard shaft. Working slowly at first, scraping his teeth gently along the blood engorged veins, Rafe raised then lowered his mouth on the erect cock. His fingers found and began to message the older man's balls.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Taggert groaned. His hands grabbed Rafe's head to urge him to speed up his movements.

Letting the older man set the pace now, Rafe readied himself for his second meal of the evening. Swallowing, the younger detective savored the hot, slightly bitter liquid that was pumped into his mouth.

"Wait a damn minute," Rafe moved from where he was smuggled against Taggert's side, his eyes staring intently at the tv screen. "That," he pointed at the image. "Is not possible. The human body will NOT bend in that direction."

"They're doing it," Joel stated.

"Special effects," Rafe declared, leaning back against the bigger man. "Sure wish we'd got dessert to go, I'm starved."

"There's ice cream in the freezer."

"Why didn't you say something before now," the younger man was off the couch and headed for the kitchen before Taggert could comment.

Coming back, Rafe seated himself again, against Joel's side.

"Where's my spoon?" The older man questioned.

"Right here," Rafe dipped the same spoon he had just cleaned of ice cream, back into the chocolate and vanilla swirls. He held it up to Taggert, who leaned forward letting himself be fed. After several minutes of sharing the frozen concoction Joel wrapped an arm around Rafe's shoulders and kissed the younger man's head.

Leaning heavily against Taggert's side, Rafe sighed, "I could stay like this forever".

"Could you?" Taggert's voice carried a hint of hopefulness.

Sitting the tub of ice cream on the coffee table Rafe turned to face his new lover. "As long as you'll let me." With that he pushed the older man flat onto the couch seat and began to ravage his mouth.