Author's Note:

This is a series of non-cronological one-shots of scenes that may or may not make it into my next fic - which I'm going to try to publish.

I'm still thinking about the actual plot, but I have the characters down:

Salem (not his real name) - used to be a Thai lady-boy ("katooey") prostitute, so obviously he's super-cute. Age mid-20's (in other words, not another highschool fic). Unlike "real" katooeys, though, Salem is NOT transgender. He's only gay. Although it took him some time to figure that out because his family just assumed that he'd be a katooey. He accidentally falls into a profession as... a paid assassin? Well, that's what I originally thought, still thinking about it. He's a bottom, and a sub - but only for his lover (part of his char-dev). He's our hero.

Charles hates being called "Charlie" or even worse, "Chuck". Maybe 5 years older than Salem. He's the straight man who's going to turn for Salem. He's already a professional assassin. He was hired to kill Salem - but professional assassins have a rule about that: if someone hires you to hit another assassin, then you hit whoever hired you instead. Keeps the assassins from constantly having to look over their shoulders.

Billy is a full-on flamboyant queen - everything but the lisp, and he'll even do THAT if the situation calls for it. He's proud to be so. Which pisses off Salem, who thinks he gives homos a bad image, and at first kind of freaks out Charles. But Billy's ways will grown on Charles, and eventually he'll find Billy's Flaming Queen -ness charming. Billy comes into the story after Salem rescues him from an abusive boyfriend. Billy is Salem's age, and although he'll cross-dress extravagantly sometimes, he only does it for kicks. He's not even especially effeminant-looking.

All three of them live together in various hotel suites in various cities around the world as Salem and Charles go around assassinating people. At least, that's the idea so far. If you have a better one, I'm all ears. :)

Snippet: Loving Women Doesn't Make You a Man

“Oh come on, Charles! It'll be fun! Come with us!”

“Y'know, Salem – there's a reason they're called 'gay bars'...”

“We don't actually keep the straights out, though,” Salem answered with a smirk, and coquettishly rested his arms on Charles' shoulders, “And besides, you'll like it. I've been to straight bars – you people don't have any fun at all! There's a drag-show tonight. Lots of pretty men in dresses. I know you like that...”

“Are you going to be in it?”

Salem had hoped he'd ask that – he thought it meant that Charles was getting into him despite all his protests about being 'straight'. He smiled widely and pulled himself even closer to the worried-looking man, “Why? You want me to be?”

“No – I was just wondering, is all. For god's sake, Salem, back off, will ya?”

But Salem didn't. From his point of view, things were just going too well, and he kept pushing his luck instead, bringing his body up tight against Charles' and looking up into his eyes, batting his lashes. Katooey-training came in handy, sometimes. Especially around men who thought they'd never like other men.

“I know you like me, Charles. I know you think I'm pretty, too. So put it together and-”

“DAMMIT, Salem, get the fuck off me!” Charles shouted and pushed him away hard, “Yeah – okay, I like you - we're friends! And yeah, I think you're pretty – like a woman! That's as far as it's ever going to go, because you're not a woman! So you can just stop flirting with me like that RIGHT NOW! Am I making myself clear enough? Are you fucking getting it?”

That shot Salem right through the heart, and he could only stand there while Charles glared at him with what appeared to be genuine hatred. He'd thought he had been so close to getting Charles to switch teams, everything had seemed to be going so well the last week or so, but apparently he'd been totally, completely, and absolutely wrong. Charles wasn't into him at all. And now he was pissed that Salem had ever dared to think otherwise.

After a moment of shock and dismay, staring into Charles' angry eyes, Salem swallowed and said in a calm, sad voice, “Yeah. I understand.” Then he turned to Billy who'd been waiting by the front door, “C'mon Billy. Let's go.”

“Y'know what?” Billy replied in his typical bizarrely up-beat Flaming Queen tone, “It's too late in the day for apricot. I gotta find something else to wear. Maybe burgundy... Why don't you go on out and get the car warmed up, honey – I'll be right there.”

“The yellow shirt is fine, Billy...”

“'Yellow'? 'YELLOW'? Sweet-heart – you've really got to work on your colors. You give fags a bad name. This is apricot. Obviously. Now go on.” With that, he turned away with a swish and minced away to his bedroom in the suite, a signal that he didn't care to argue about it further.

Salem glanced back at Charles, just to see if he was still glaring. He was.

“Fine. We'll be back before three, as usual,” he said, and was out the door.

No sooner had it closed than Billy emerged from his room looking exactly as he had when he'd gone in. Except for his face. He was looking at Charles with daggers in his eyes.

And Charles – after a long moment staring at the closed front-door, eventually noticed that: “I thought you were-”

“DON'T...” Billy cried, holding his fists to his sides, “Don't... don't even talk to me! God! I've never been so... so fucking mad!”

“What'd he do now?” Charles asked, thinking that perhaps Salem and Billy were stealing from each other's wardrobes again.

“He? He? You mean that sweet guy who's heart you just crushed? What'd he do? Is that what you're asking me?”

Charles sighed, “Oh, here it comes – the fags against the straight. I always knew this would happen...”

Billy gritted his teeth and held up his hands as if to say PLEASE shut up! I can't take you anymore! He breathed deeply several times, trying to calm down. Finally, he opened his eyes again, and lowered his arms. Charles was still waiting for the onslaught.

With his mind at least a little cleared, Billy said, “Charles – I've seen the way you look at him, when you think no one's watching. You think he's more than just 'pretty'...”

“Yeah, well... fine. I can't help that. He's... he's...”

“It's not just how he looks, sweet-heart. And it's not just how you look at him, either. Your whole personality changes when he's around. When he wants to go somewhere – other than The Basement, anyway – you get so excited to go with him. It's obvious, honey. I hate to tell you – but everyone can see it. Everyone knows. I've been seeing it for months now, and I keep thinking you'll come around – just like he thought, I bet – but you never do.”

“Billy... Look: Salem is a man. I'm a man. I'm a man who loves women. That's not going to change.”

“You love him, honey. You just won't-”

“I do NOT love him!”

“He loves you...”

Charles stared at Billy stupefied, with his brow furrowed and his lips parted.

“My god.. You didn't even know, did you...”

In a way, Charles had known. He just hadn't wanted to hear the words, even in his mind. He turned away so Billy wouldn't be able to see his face, and tried desperately to think of something to say.

But he never did.

“Well – Salem's waiting on me out there. I'd better get going.” Billy got his coat from the hall closet, still watching Charles' back. The stupid bastard. Everything Charles needed was right there, but the idiot wouldn't cross the damn fence to get it. And why? Because...

“Loving women doesn't make you a man, Charles,” Billy said just as he was about to close the door behind him, “A man loves who he loves – and that's all it takes. You have fun here by yourself now, 'kay?”