My Dearest Ducky—
First of all, how is your cold? I hope you are taking care of yourself; you know I think you work far too hard but that is an old argument, isn't it? Perhaps it's just enlightened self interest on my behalf—Majorca isn't that far off, you know.
Now, some new developments here. Yes, I know you told me to keep my nose out of other people's business, but you know how bored I get between cons. And before you scold me, you know as well as I that sometimes nature needs a bit of a nudge.
And I'll have you know this one wasn't even my idea. Danny found our current mark, a thoroughly horrible man who's been taking advantage of pensioners by promising them inheritances that don't exist. Yes, the old Nigeria scam still works, more's the pity. Before you ask, it's safe as can be, but there's one interesting twist—he also hides behind a public persona as an advocate for gay rights. In fact, he takes donations for his so-called fundraising and uses that money as bait for the pensioners. He gives them a little for show, then asks a lot in return. A low-brow con of the worst kind, but I cannot fault the man for his taste. Has a penchant for blue-eyed blonds, you see.
So, as you've already suspected, our dear Danny must play the part of a gay man. I, of course, pointed out that the only way to play the role convincingly is to have him pretend to be "with" someone. I was afraid Ash was going to break a leg trying to get out of the room, but we both know he wasn't my intended, er, victim. I did manage to catch Stacie's eye—she looked a little sad, but rallied beautifully. I think we all knew something like this would happen the day Danny Blue pushed his way into our little family.
Mickey, as you can imagine, played it quite cool. He agreed to the masquerade fairly easily but I think I was the only one who noticed how his eyes never left Danny, who was a little harder to convince. In fact, it was Ash's suggestion that they "practice" in front of us, so that they'd get comfortable being affectionate in front of others. Oh, Danny didn't like that one bit—in fact, he looked scared out of his wits. But, since he's the one who found the mark, he could hardly back out, could he?
Their first attempt was quite awful. You'd think neither of them had ever kissed anyone, the way their noses mashed together and their hands pawed at each other. I tried very hard not to laugh as they apologized to each other profusely, Danny turning the most delightful shade of pink. Things were rapidly going downhill when Mickey, no doubt thinking someone had to take charge, suddenly pulled Danny into his arms and laid a kiss on that young man that made even these arthritic toes of mine curl. Stacie let out a little squeak and covered her mouth, her eyes about as big as I've ever seen them. Even Ash looked stunned—but I wasn't surprised when the kiss that should've been a mere act turned into something a bit more convincing than was strictly necessary.
It didn't take a genius to realize that the three of us had quickly become de trop, so I ushered Stacie and Ash out of the room and closed the door behind us—whatever was going to happen next, well, we'd find out in due time. Sure enough, about forty-five minutes later, Mickey and Danny joined us at the bar. Danny looked only marginally more scruffy than usual, but Mickey was definitely missing that fine silk tie he'd started the day with. For the rest of the day they were excruciatingly aware of each other, stealing little glances when they thought no one was looking, that sort of thing.
Oh, I can see you raising that eyebrow of yours from here. Yes, I know they have many obstacles ahead of them, not the least of which is their own stubborn pride. However, you are as aware as anyone that there are some things worth risking everything for—and every day I am grateful you took that gamble.
I will let you know more as things progress, but Stacie wants her computer back (she sends her love, by the way). Please give Abby a kiss for me and tell her to stop tempting you to get a secret tattoo and daring me to find it.
Did you get those brochures I sent you for Seville? Let me know what you think—I'd rather not go to Barcelona, if you don't mind. I have a feeling the local constabulary have somewhat long memories. Rather how you feel about Oslo, I imagine. Nineteen sixty-five, wasn't it? Ah, good times.
Until Spain, my dear Ducky (how I love that name!) I remain,
Your faithful Albie
Part of the Delaware series (don't ask); my prompt was to write a story where Danny and Mickey had to pretend they were "together" to reel in a mark. I couldn't resist the temptation of adding a bit more.
The title is a song by Boz Scaggs from the Silk Degrees album.
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