Love, in Progress

Put your head on my shoulder

"Wha- what-?" Tinsley started, before being pulled to his feet by the smaller yet considerably stronger man. Feeling a slight warmth in his face, Tinsley kept his head down as he felt the other man watch him expectantly.

"Well?", Ricky asked impatiently, "Are we doing this or not?"
Tinsley shifted nervously from one foot to the other.
"Yeah sure-"
"Great" Ricky interrupted with a wide smile.

Tinsley glanced around the room to see if anyone was watching, only to lock eyes with Holly. Seeing what was transpiring, Holly motioned for Tinsley to put his hand on Ricky's waist. Which he did. Very awkwardly.

Picking up on Tinsley's obvious nervous energy, Ricky smirked "You can be a bit more rough with me- I'm not going to shatter like a China plate, Tinman."
"Yeah yeah I know, hardened criminal and all that" Tinsley responded, trying to relax.

"No I mean- you don't have to be so formal and stiff, just have fun" Ricky said with a laugh, reaching forward to put his hand on Tinsley's shoulder.

After a couple of minutes of uncoordinated shuffling, the pair finally found their rhythm. They swayed back and forth to the music, Ricky leaning his head against Tinsley's chest.

Most of the room noticed the two dancing, but respectfully tried not to stare- instead just throwing glances whenever they thought no one else was looking. On an average day, they were an odd looking, mismatched pair- but on that evening? They were simply meant for each other.

However, Miguel wasn't quite so sure about that. He leaned against the back wall of the party, drink in hand, watching the detective. Sure, he could stay in town all he wanted, but if he wanted to dance with his brother at a public event then maybe it was a good idea to run some precautionary background checks- just to see if the detective had anything major to hide. If he was no good, or even dangerous, then he'd be asked to leave.

Still, it was nice to see his older brother happy for once. Usually he'd spend his time on short flings, and drinking alone in the kitchen when he thought no one was there- so the tall scraggly Chicagoan was a nice change. In fact, that reminded Miguel of his own tall, scraggly Chicagoan.

Miguel stepped out of the hall, and went down the corridor and into the parlour room, which thankfully, was vacant. He contemplated for a moment, before dialling up the number of his office back in Chicago, knowing that his associate-with-benefits would probably be sat at his desk.

"Hey" he started.
"Hello, you've reached Mikey's Bar how can I help-" the voice on the other end of the line rambled.
"It's me dumbass", Miguel interrupted with a sigh, "Could you not tell? Also are you sat at my desk again?"

A pause passed.

"No?" The voice responded slowly with a guilty tone.
"I call bullshit, however that's not why I'm calling."
"You called because you miss Legs Madej and wanted to hear his gorgeous voice because you've missed him so much? Wow Nightie, I didn't take you for the romantic type-"

"Oh shaddup", Miguel interrupted sharply, "I need to ask you to run background on someone."
"What's the magic word?"
"Dios mío how old are you, 12?!"
"Do you want me to run a background or not?"

Miguel sighed deeply, "Please?"
"And?"
"Thank you" Miguel gritted through his teeth.

"See that wasn't so hard! Who do you want this background on?"
"There's this PI, called Charles C. Tinsley, I need to know what his deal is."
"Tinsley?!"
"Yes that's what I said-"
"What's he done?" Legs asked with a laugh.
"Do you know him or something?" Miguel asked quizzically
"Yes- he's my cousin. But I can't imagine him really doing anything, other than like, accidentally forgetting to give to charity, but then making up for it by putting extra in next time."

Miguel was quiet for a moment, slightly amused by the concept of a mini-Legs and mini-Tinsley playing tag in the garden.

"So boss, do I still need to check him out?" Legs asked in the thickest Chicago accent that be could muster.
"Maybe a small one, if you could manage."
"I'll get that to you as soon as I can be bothered" the man on the phone quipped.

"I'm gonna be back home in a week, and if there's as much as one scratch on that desk I'll cut your legs off with a rusty chainsaw-"
"I don't think you could reach that high."
"You little shi-"
"Hey I'm not the little one here!-"

Miguel briskly hung up the phone, rocking back onto his heels and pushing his hands through his hair. As much as he loved the banter they had, Legs could get annoying pretty quick.

"Mijo, who was that?"
Miguel spun around quickly to see his mother, who was in the doorway.
"Just Madej, Mamá."
"Can I ask what you were talking about?"
"Hm... I'd prefer if you didn't" Miguel replied hesitantly.
"Okay, as long as your being safe Mijo. Have you seen where your brother has gotten off to? Because I haven't seen that detective in a little while either.." Lucy trailed off.

Putting the pieces together, Miguel sighed,
"Dios Mío, I don't think I want to know."