It was only a few hours later that two slightly dusty and more drunk fellows walked into the casino, and scoped the place out. Their eyes were unsurprisingly captured by the waitresses walking around in next to nothing. The two shared a word or two and split, one headed for the bathrooms at the rear, the other sauntering along the length of the casino floor, checking out the tables, playing with some chips he'd pulled from his pocket, as if he were wondering if he should risk the last bit of his lost wealth or hang onto it for awhile.

That one, blond and blue-eyed, cruised the casino floor, pausing here and there.  Sometimes he spent a few moments watching the blackjack tables, then he'd move on to craps or roulette.  All the time he fingered his chips, tempted by the play but never quite giving in.  He stood at a poker table long enough to order and get served a drink, flirting a bit with the waitress and parting with a couple of bucks he pulled, wadded and old, from his hip pocket, slowly placing them in the tip glass like he wasn't even sure he wanted to.  At least not until the waitress smiled, dazzling hot and filled with flashing dimples.  He smiled back, slightly blinded and watched her sashay away, hips swaying and curls bouncing.  He pursed his lips in appreciation and shook his head.  He knew what was out of his league and what wasn't, but looking was surely free.

The other one stumbled into the lavatory and was messily sick at a urinal, causing the janitor who kept it clean for tips the curse under his breath. He had no time for amateurs.   He shoved the drunk aside and quickly used the touchpad that unlocked the door to the supply room to pull out the mop and bucket and disinfectant spray. The drunk, leaning bleary-eyed against a sink looked like he was falling asleep on his feet.

"Here, get outta here, man! Go on, go sleep it off somewhere's else!"  The drunk obligingly stumbled out of the bathroom, found a side entrance that wasn't shut for security and let himself out into the grimy parking lot.

Tobie and Chance wandered down from their room and exchanged a few words and then a perfunctory peck.  Tobie headed for the tables and another round of fifty dollar a chip blackjack while Chance opted for the crap tables, knowing the best odds in the house for a punter were to be found there.  His chosen perch allowed him a view of the bar and also the lobby.  He would forever be grateful his foresight gave him a catbird seat to the arrival that began to unfold almost as soon as he bet on the pass line and won. An omen, perhaps.

The drunk sat on the steps by the employee parking lot. Such a sight was not unheard of. A couple of girls stopped by to offer him a couple of dollars. He was kinda cute for a drunk. A dealer on his break and coming out for a smoke, moved over to sit by him, offing him a cigarette too. The drunk, gratefully took one, his hand shaking so much the dealer, with a laugh, lit it for him.  "Man, you better go find a flop house and sleep it off, buddy. Lost your last dime?"

The drunk got pissed and took a swing at the dealer who easily evaded it and sauntered off to smoke his cigarette in peace.

The blond meanwhile cast caution to the wind and picked the craps table, perhaps having the same understanding of the odds.  He smiled and place a small wager on the shooter to make his point and looked around to signal the waitress for another drink.  His eyes went over and but didn't stop at the sight of the man checking in at the desk.   Who cared?  They just moved on to the waitress with the dimples.  She smiled and nodded, communicating her understanding of those of his needs she was willing to supply and moved towards the bar, picking up a few more orders on the way, including another Bombay and tonic for Tobie.

The parade to the check-in desk had caught a lot of eyes. Moroccan leather matched suitcases, a bunch of them, attended by a guy in a three piece striped suit with a bowler, who had an accent that tagged him as someone from well beyond Boston.  The people behind the counter instinctively moved in closer and guys in uniforms were fighting to be the one to take the cart the leather suitcases were piled on up to the room.

"The Earl of Avery, my dear girl. You must never call him Mr. Blakesley. If addressing him, address him as Lord Avery." A pause. "Yes, I know his last name is Blakesley as it says on his passport. Are you ... slow, dear girl?  I should have thought a place like this would hire intelligent women!  Here he comes now, stop messing me about. Lord Avery will expect not to wait!"

Ian sauntered in dressed to kill. James Bond should have looked so sartorially perfect. He smiled at the women behind the counter. "Hullo, darlings. Is there room in the inn?"

After flirting a little with the ladies behind the counter, the Earl, bored with the necessities of checking in, turned to run his eyes across the casino area. "I knew we should have gone to Monaco as usual. How I let myself be talked into coming here," he sniffed as he sauntered off to check out the ambiance. He stopped beside a security guard and asked, "This is the best casino in Las Vegas?"

"Yes, sir, it is!"

"That's what I was afraid of," Ian sighed as he moved on.  He ran his eyes across the tables and scowled at some tourists dressed in shorts and flip-flops. Finally he moved over to take a seat in one of the bars to scan the crowd.

Above, in the control room, it was possible to see everything, even to the pips on the cards or to read the lips of the punters.  That was standard casino security, along with a number of other things.  For the suited bunch who'd dropped by to check out the action the monitors were the only show of interest.  One, though -- quintessentially tall, dark and handsome -- watched his colleagues more then he watched the monitors; at least until the Earl of Avery took a seat.  The smile flickered on his lips and then strengthened. It positively glowed as he watched him being served by one of the waitresses.

It was an hour or so later before the waitress punched out and left the casino, her shift over.  She stopped, as anyone watching would have realized was her wont, at a fast food place and picked up some carry out.  Then she usually headed straight home, as she did this night, having decided on Indian food, extra hot, and a couple of bottles of sparkling water. 

She sighed as she put the key in the lock and opened the door, juggling the bags and her purse.  She carefully shut the door behind her and headed for the kitchen, turning on a overhead light with her elbow on the way.  Her sisters were both working the night shift and she had the place to herself.

He was standing. leaning against the kitchen cabinet, his feet crossed at the ankles, his arms crossed on his chest. He was dressed all in black so she'd had no warning he was there, not even his cologne giving him away.

If he'd intended to ensure she was alert and paying attention, he succeeded.  Fortunately she'd set down the bags before he startled the crap out of her.  She sagged back against the fridge, her hand on her breast, breathing fast and glaring at him.  "Christ Ian, was that necessary?"

"I'm your bodyguard. Just doing my duty, having checked out the apartment earlier. How are you?"

"Well, I'm awake now, that's for sure.  And what's going on?  I saw Laz and Trevor in the casino and you checking in."  Then she shook her head.  "No, wait, this is all backwards," she said and walked over to him, putting her arms around him and stretching up to kiss him.  "Hi."

He wrapped his arms around her. "Hi. I'm just keeping a weather eye on you.  Nothing whatever to do with Laz and Trevor. I'm quite separate."

She leaned back a bit and considered his expression in light of his tone.  "Okay.  Now tell me what's going on, if you wouldn't mind."

"Marc and Stephen have taken over the entire operation. They don't want to alert the bad guys so they insisted they leave you four in here for the next 24 to 36 hours. I objected."

"Am I going to have to waste time we could spend doing other things and play twenty questions?"

"Let's go to bed. I'll answer all your questions afterwards. Well, what few I actually can."

She smiled and moved in a sensual slide against him as she turned towards the back of the apartment, holding his hand.  "You plan to take the title 'bodyguard' literally?"

"Every chance I get," he replied following along as she led him into the bedroom. "Would you rather eat your vindaloo?"

"It'll keep.  There should be enough for both of us, if you're interested in food."  She opened a bedroom door and towed him in.  "Me," she said turning to face him, "I'm only interested in you."

"Your bed creaks," he said to her afterwards, as they lay wrapped comfortably in each other's arms.

"Think of it as the spring section of the orchestra," she said.  "I don't know why you're really here or what's going on. I'm sure it's all bad news.  I'm just so happy you are."

"I'm not entirely sure why I'm here either. I see no reason you couldn't just come home."

"There was something about two missing DEA agents last I checked," she said.

"But you are in far too much danger, all of you, now that Terry's informant was killed. I appreciate the need you have to help, but there is only so much any of you can do."

"I agree," she said.  "I just don't think we've reached that point yet."

"I threatened to show up and drag you home by the hair," Ian confessed.

"Would you have actually tried to do that?"

"When will you know when you have reached the point to come home?"

"When there's nothing left that can be done, and we aren't at that point yet," she said.  "They might still be alive, at least one of them anyway.  We think he's actually being held in the penthouse area."

"And this is based on actual information or just a hunch?" he asked, his hand moving across her back rhythmically. "I don't doubt you are hoping this to be the case, I'm just wondering if you have any actual evidence it is so."

"A sort of cross between both," she said, after thinking about it for a minute.  "If the information were just a bit harder we could get a warrant.  It's why we won't leave, none of us."

"But with Stephen and Marc so concerned, can't you let them handle it?"

"Well I don't actually know anything about that," she pointed out, threading her fingers through his chest hair.

"Stop that, it is distracting. Do you want to know something, or not?  That's better. They've killed a child, Betty Jo. They've killed millions of people. These are horrible men."

"All the more reason to stop them.  That's one of my favorite things, you know," she informed him, still pouting about the chest hair.  Then she stopped, went absolutely still in his arms.  "Millions of people?"

"I'm not sure of the details. Frankly I wasn't interested in them. All I knew was I wanted you out of here.  They told me you wouldn't agree to leave."

"And instead of me being out, you're in," she said softly.  "They're right, whoever they are.  I won't leave."

"Leroy's going to be spending his off time with you as well. Too dangerous for him at that hotel after the informant was killed. You're sure you won't?" When she shook her head no, he added, "I'll be turning gray any time now."

"On you it will be incredibly sexy."

"Hah, stop trying to turn my head. So, hungry yet?"
 
"Yet?  Don't you mean again?"

When Leroy zapped in, Bobbie and Billie were sitting in the living room area. "What's that noise?" he asked.  They groaned. 

Then Billie smiled at him.  "I hear you're staying with us so we can protect you."

Leroy grinned. "That's the plan. I liked it."

Bobbie looked from Leroy to her sister and groaned again.  "I'm going to bed," she announced.  "Night."

Night, honey," Billie said. "sleep well."

"Oh yeah," Bobbie muttered.  "And sweet dreams, too."

"What's her problem?" Leroy asked, plopping down next to Billie.

"I think she's just tired," Billie said.  "And stressed.  So how are you?"

"Tired and stressed. I know something that could fix both, if you were interested, that is."

"Oh?  What?" she asked, a smile flickering at the corner of her mouth.

"It involves an experiment," he replied solemnly. "You'd have to sign on for the duration of the experiment."

She eyed him, her head tilted to the side.  "An experiment?  And that's all you're going to tell me?"

"Yup," he replied, batting his eyes innocently.

"But I can trust you, right?"

"Of course. I was a Boy Scout."

""Okay, I'm signed on for the duration," she said.

He grinned, a wicked little-boy grin. "Come on then. Which is your room?"

She led the way to the back of the apartment and opened a door.  "This one."

He wrapped her up in his arms and began backing her to the bed.

She giggled and let him steer her to the bed.  "Now I know why she was grumpy."

"Well, she can think of it as a chorus of springs. Gee, I think that's been used before... Anyway, the experiment is to see if we can't drown out your sister and Ian, and make this bed groan ourselves."

"Will it be hard, do you think?"

"Very hard," he replied deadpan.

"I think you might be right." She pulled him closer.  "So, uhm, I guess my job is to...ah...help be sure that uhm, no matter how hard it gets, things stay on track."

"And that all the parts work properly."

"So I'm the...ah...parts inspector, quality assurance as it were?" she asked reaching for his belt buckle.  "And reporting all my results to you?"

"And I'm the feedback monitor. You tell me what works, I improve on the output."  He finally cracked up.  "I can't do it. I can't think with you in the same room with me."

"Then don't try," she said laughing with him.  "Though I should warn you I've wanted you more every day since we got here.  And seeing you at the casino, or somewhere else and not being able to touch you was driving me crazy."

"Me too," he confessed. "And watching you smile at some bozo, when I wished you were smiling at me. You, uhm, you don't mind with your sisters knowing?"

She smiled, the same sensual, sultry smile that was everything feminine she'd smiled the last time.  "Nope.  Do you?  'Sides maybe you'll make me scream."

"Oh I fully intend to try every method I can dream up to make you do so," he said with a grin as he pulled her down so they were bouncing on the bed. "Damn, your springs are pretty quiet. I guess we'll just have to try harder."

"Just wait 'til they're warmed up," she said.  "Now please, honey, would you kiss me before I go insane wanting you to?"

He obliged.