Author's notes: The things I do to poor Danny. If only EM knew.

Falling in the Clutches of Circumstance (Part 5)

Three weeks.

It had been three weeks since what Martin liked to refer to as the "kissing incident" and neither he nor Daniel had spoken of it. Which was fine with Martin; he was more than happy to pretend that the kiss had never happened. Besides, he hadn't really had time to think about it. He had more than enough on his mind with work . . . and Sam . . . and most of all, planning tonight's party.

Of course this was not just any party; this one was important, and all the right important people had been invited - with the most important of all being Senator Arbogast. If tonight was a success, it would bode very well for Martin's company; especially if they could count on the senator's backing and finances.

With everything that was going on, it only made sense that Martin had barely had time to interact with Daniel, much less obsess about the kiss. Just about all he'd had time for was instructing Daniel on what was expected of him at the party.

And those long, curious looks that Daniel gave him every once in a while - well, Martin didn't even give those a second thought.

Or at least that's what he told himself as he tried to push thoughts of the dark-haired man from his mind. To this end, he took another look around the room, taking everything in from his vantage point in the corner. In another moment he would have to mingle again, with him being the host it was unavoidable, but right now he could just look...and judge.

Yes, things seemed to be going smoothly; it seemed that everywhere he looked, there were handsome people in beautiful clothes with half-drunken smiles on their faces. All he had to do now was to keep this momentum going for another hour or so and he would be able to consider this night over. And a success.

His eyes eventually sought out Samantha. When informed of the party, she had been, naturally, beside herself with excitement. It wasn't often that she got to mingle with so many wealthy and influential people in one setting.

He found her in the middle of the room, talking to the president of the company and her husband. She seemed very intent on what was being said, her brow furrowed in concentration. He smiled, then turned, and without even fully realizing it, began to look for Daniel. It was only after several minutes of intently searching for him and not seeing him, that he even realized what he was doing.

Feeling slightly irritated that Daniel would leave while there were still people to be served, he stalked over to Jeffrey, who was circulating the room with his drink tray, and demanded to know where the other man was.

Jeffrey gestured towards the nearest door. "He went that way." Then in a lower voice, he added, "With the senator."

Martin looked in the direction that Jeffrey that indicated. The door opened to a hallway, at the end of which was the library.

Martin frowned. Why would Daniel and the senator go that way?

He posed the question to Jeffrey.

Jeffrey shrugged. "I don't know. The senator took him aside. He seemed to want to talk to him."

Stranger still. Why would the senator go out of his way to talk to Daniel?

Feeling both puzzled and slightly concerned, Martin said, "I'm going to go find him."

Jeffrey nodded, instantly picking up on Martin's sense of disquiet. "Do you think something's wrong, Martin?"

With a calm certainty that he didn't really feel, Martin said, "No, I'm sure everything's just fine. I just wanted to talk to Daniel for a minute."

With a smile that he hoped was reassuring for Jeffrey and one final backward glance at Sam, he headed for the doorway.

From the moment Danny laid eyes on Senator Arbogast, he knew the man was going to be trouble. He couldn't say exactly what it was about the man that led him to this conclusion - he certainly looked respectable enough - but there was definitely something about him that was making Danny's instincts go on high alert. And Danny wasn't one to doubt his instincts.

He'd followed these instincts and kept away from the other man all night by making sure that wherever the senator was, he himself was on the opposite side of the room. And his impromptu plan had been working. It was working so well in fact, that he had allowed himself to relax, lulled by the belief that he would not have to encounter the senator at all.

And that, he decided as the senator all but cornered him, was where he had gone wrong. He had let down his guard and he had been caught. It was as simple, and as frustrating, as that. And now the man he had been avoiding all night was standing just a few feet in front of him, looking for all the world like a cat who had caught its mouse.

"And who might you be?" Senator Arbogast asked with a slight smile.

"My name is Daniel, sir," he said in a way that he hoped was courteous yet invited no further conversation.

"Daniel," the senator said, trying on the name much as Danny had done with Martin's not long ago. "You're new here, aren't you? I thought Martin only kept one slave."

"Yes, sir. I'm new."

"I see," the senator said, looking at Danny in a way that instantly made him want to take a bath.

Danny cleared his throat and adjusted his tray of drinks. "Well...I should really get back..."

"I don't think Martin would mind if I stole you away for a few minutes. Do you?"

Stole for a few minutes? What was that supposed to mean? "I think he might sir," Danny said, trying his best to sound polite and servile. "I'm supposed to..."

Suddenly, the senator gripped his arm tightly, surprising him. "I just want to talk to you for a moment." He paused, then said in a tone that suggested the idea had just come to him, "We can go into the library."

Danny could feel the first stirrings of panic. This was not good. This was definitely not good. He did not want to be alone with this man. His eyes darted around the room, frantically trying to find Martin and signal him for help, but there were too many people milling about and he couldn't spot him.

As his eyes settled back on the man in front of him, he realized with a sinking sense of desperation that there was nothing for him to do but go with him. Martin had impressed upon him how important this party was and how important it was to make sure the guests were happy; especially this guest.

He could not risk angering the senator.

He couldn't do that to Martin.

He took a deep, calming breath and forced himself to nod. "All right, sir."

The senator released the grip on his arm and smiled, obviously satisfied. Then, with a slight inclination of his head, he indicated to Danny that he should follow him. Danny placed the drink tray on the nearest table and turned to see the senator already waiting for him at the door.

Squaring his shoulders, determined to do this, Danny followed him out of the room and into the hallway. There wasn't much to this section of the house - just a bathroom and the library at the end of the hall. They walked to the library, which was heralded by an immense oak door which the senator casually opened, as if it were his to open. Once inside, he placed his hand against the wall and flicked a switch, bathing the room in soft, golden light. Danny stepped inside. He had been in this room several times now, and yet each time was impressed by the sheer majesty of its immense oak bookcases and its plush leather sofas. This time was no different. As he moved further into the awe-inspiring room, he noticed how quiet it was; how the sounds of the party beyond the hallway were so muted they seemed merely whispers.

Danny jumped slightly when he heard the click of the door being closed. Remembering how comfortable the senator seemed to be in the house, how he knew where the light switch was without having to fumble for it, he asked, "You've been in this house before, sir?"

"Oh, yes. I was a very good friend of Martin's father."

Danny couldn't keep the surprise from showing on his face. Martin had never said a word about it.

"It's amazing how much he looks like his father. The spitting image."

As he spoke, the senator moved toward Danny, coming closer than was comfortable. Danny took a step back even as the senator stepped forward. They continued this little dance until Danny's back hit the wall behind him.

Now effectively trapped, Danny said, "Really?" despite knowing that any conversation was to be a futile effort in forestalling the inevitable. "I haven't met his father."

"Sadly, you never will. He's dead."

Dumbstruck, all Danny could think of to say was, "Oh." He was struggling to think of something else to say...anything else, when he became aware that the senator was suddenly very close. More than uncomfortably close...now he was unbearably close - enough that Danny could smell the alcohol on his breath. He could feel the senator's fingers ghosting up his arm, but he didn't dare look down. It was bad enough that the man was touching him, he didn't want to have to see it too.

"But let's not talk about that anymore, hmm? In fact, let's not talk at all." And with that, the senator crossed the very small divide still left between them and kissed him.

The aggressiveness of the kiss and the putrid smell of alcohol that wafted from the senator pulled Danny from the here and now and thrust him brutally into the past. Suddenly he was no longer in Martin's library, but back with his old master about to play the game. Feeling wildly frightened and acting purely on instincts of self-preservation, he lifted his hands up and pushed.

The senator stumbled backward but managed to regain his footing before falling to the ground. Danny opened eyes that he wasn't even aware he had closed and stared at the senator in horror.

Oh no. Oh no.

The man was breathing heavily, his eyes narrowed into tiny slits of pure fury.

Danny knew that he had to start fixing this, and fast, but he could barely think. A part of his mind was still stuck in the past, begging his master not to use the belt anymore. But still he had to try. "Sir, I'm so..."

The senator's next move was so lightning fast, that Danny had to wonder how the older man had it in him. The fist that ground into his jaw felt like it was made of stone. The force of the blow spun Danny around, slamming his body against the wall. He slid half-way down that wall before he was able to stop his descent. Slowly, he straightened, hand massaging his sore jaw, and waited for the senator to decide what would happen next.

"You don't push me!" the senator all but screamed at him.

Danny flinched and pressed himself against the wall. "I'm sorry sir. I shouldn't have touched you, I know, but I belong to Martin. You shouldn't be doing this."

Quick as lightning, the fury was gone and the senator was smiling. But it was a nasty smile, one that chilled Danny to the core. "Martin gave me permission."

Danny shook his head and said the first word that popped into his mind. "No."

"Oh yes," said the senator. "He said I could have you. Why do you think we're here?"

"Martin wouldn't do that, sir, " he said. He didn't want to believe what the senator was saying. He wasn't able to believe it.

"Are you calling me a liar?"

Danny continued to shake his head. How could he possibly explain to this man that he was beginning to trust Martin? And that for him to trust and believe in one of his masters was a thing so precious and so rare that it seemed a delicate miracle? And that if that trust and belief were to be taken away, it would be tantamount to a death sentence?

How could he explain these things to the man who now wanted to take all that away? No, he decided, he couldn't possibly begin to share what was going on in his head. So instead he settled for a pathetic, "No, sir. It's just that..."

"Shut your mouth and come here."

Whatever hope Danny had been holding on to that he could talk his way out of this deserted him after hearing those words. The senator wasn't going to take no for an answer no matter what he said. Shoulders slumped and head bowed, Danny walked back to the senator like a man walking to his executioner.

If the senator noticed this attitude at all he made no mention of it. He merely opened his arms wide until Danny stepped into them, then resumed the kiss as if nothing had happened at all.

Danny lost track of time locked in the senator's embrace. Faced with the prospect of being stranded here, with this man's tongue down his throat forever, he began to despair. When the senator finally broke away, all he could do was gasp for much needed clean air and some sense of sanity. It was only later, when his senses had returned to him, that he realized that the senator had his hands on his shoulders and was exerting pressure; a gentle but insistent pressure.

So this was what he wanted. Danny was actually relieved it was only this. A little shame, a little degradation and it would be over fairly quickly. At least he wouldn't be limping tomorrow.

Completely resigned to what was about to happen, and no longer feeling any need to fight it, Danny allowed himself to be pushed onto his knees. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes

Martin stepped into the hallway, the light under the library door acting as his beacon and guide.

He had to force himself not to run toward that door. He did this by telling himself that everything was all right and that the senator and Daniel were merely talking. He told himself that if he burst into the room all he would accomplish was to embarrass the other men and make himself seem an idiot.

The humiliated senator would then likely withdraw his support from the company - old ties to his father be damned - and tonight would be a failure.

With all this in mind, he walked up to the room's threshold, slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside.

At first it felt like he'd been punched in the gut, seeing them like that. He put one hand against the wall for support, feeling suddenly weak and nauseous, as his mind tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

He inhaled shakily and managed to sputter out, "What the hell?"

While neither man moved from his position, both of them turned toward him, heads moving so fast they seemed to blur.

Martin looked from Senator Arbogast, standing ramrod straight, his hands entwined in Daniel's hair, to Daniel who was on his knees in front of him.

Then the senator pushed Daniel away, lip curled in disgust, and Martin knew what had been happening here as surely as if he had been a witness to it.

"Martin, I'm sorry you had to see this," said the senator -a man he had respected. A man he would never look at the same way again.

Martin pushed away from the wall and stepped toward them. "What the hell were you doing to him?"

"He came at me! He seduced me!" The senator said this with such hurt and shock in his voice that Martin actually faltered in mid-step.

But one look at Daniel told him all he needed to know. It wasn't so much the fact that Daniel was bleeding freely from his mouth or that his bottom lip was swollen. It was the fact that Daniel looked as if he wanted to die; as if he just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

The anger coursing through Martin propelled him forward again, hands already balling into fists. "Get away from him!" he shouted.

The senator put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Martin, calm down."

Out of the corner of his eye, Martin could see that both Jeffrey and Sam had entered the room. He briefly wondered why they would have felt the need to follow him, but quickly discarded the thought. He was far too caught up in his anger to care. "You had no right! No right at all! How dare you!"

"He came at me, Martin!"

"He wouldn't do that! He would never do that!"

"Martin..."

And just like that, Martin's anger was gone. It simply couldn't stay alive in the face of the senator's pathetic false attempts at self-righteous indignation.

His voice calm, yet deliberate, Martin said, "Get out of my house."

"Martin, be reasonable."

"Get out of my house," he repeated.

"Martin, don't..."

"William, please just get out before I have to throw you out," he said with a sigh. Then he added, knowing the effect it would have on the man, "And won't that be unpleasant in front of all those people?"

That got the reaction he was looking for and more. Gone was the wronged senator protesting his innocence. In his place was a man whose face wore a look that Martin instantly recognized. It was a look that he had seen his own father wear many times - a look of cold, calculating contempt.

"You'll regret this Martin. I'm an important man. You know that better than anybody."

"Yeah, I know it all right," Martin mumbled, already turning away from him. He didn't have to watch to know that the senator was leaving. Any kind of scandal was anathema to a politician; it was a fact of life.

"I can ruin you, Martin."

Martin acknowledged this parting shot only with a nod. He didn't even bother to turn around. He knew the senator was humiliated and therefore angry. He also knew that he should probably do something about it; something to smooth things over. But he couldn't. Not now. Right now all he wanted was to get him out of his house and out of his sight.

He waited until he was certain that the man was gone before turning to see the damage that he had caused.

Jeffrey had moved to Daniel's side sometime during the time that Martin's back was turned. His arm was around Daniel's waist, and he appeared to be holding him up. Daniel's head was lowered, but whether it was from physical hurt or something else, Martin couldn't guess. He was about to step toward them when Samantha's voice stopped him cold.

He had forgotten all about her.

"Martin!"she cried, her voice just this side of hysterical. "You can still catch him if you go now!"

Wearily, Martin turned towards her. "Catch him? Why would I want to do that?"

"Well, to apologize, of course."

"I'm not apologizing, Sam."

"But Martin..."

"Sam, he assaulted someone in my house."

"He said that Daniel seduced him..."

"He's lying, Sam. Did you see Daniel's face?"

"I saw a swollen lip, that's not what I'd call an assault."

Martin could barely believe his ears. His tone lost its cool detachment. "It doesn't matter whether or not he laid a hand on him or whether he did it through coercion. It was still assault!"

Sam threw her hands up in the air. "Whatever, Martin. I don't want to argue the finer points with you. The fact is, you can't let Senator Arbogast go like that. He's too important. Without his support, you won't be able to expand. You've worked too hard and too long on this to let...him...ruin it."

Martin cringed, listening to her talk. He knew he had to put a stop to this, because if he had to listen to the nonsense she was spewing much longer, he was going to say something he would later regret. "Sam, you need to stop. Now."

"Excuse me?"

"Not another word about the senator or about Daniel."

"Martin, don't do this. You have to fix this," she said, one arm extended, fingers outstretched, beseeching him.

He shook his head and sighed sadly. "Oh, Sam."

"Don't do this. Don't do this to us," she cried.

"Sam, this isn't about us. If you can't understand that, it might be better if you just went home, because I can't deal with this right now."

She dropped her arm and took an abrupt step back. She looked surprised and hurt, as if he had betrayed her horribly. An instant later, she looked furious.

She bit out the word, "Fine," before turning and stalking out the door, slamming it behind her for good measure. Martin pitied any person unfortunate enough to be in her path.

He turned back toward Jeffrey and Daniel to see that they had not moved.

He stood there, feeling awkward and useless until Jeffrey cleared his throat and said quietly, "I should take him to his room."

Martin nodded, wishing he knew what to say.

As he watched them begin their slow shuffle out of the room, he felt a familiar tightness in his skull. "Jeffrey," he called out. "When you're done, please let everyone know that I've taken ill. And give my apologies."

"Certainly, Martin."

"And try to get them all out of here, would you? This party's over."

Martin felt drained; more dead than alive. He had spent so much time and energy making sure that everything would go well, and in the end the party had been a complete disaster. Senator Arbogast was furious at him. Sam was furious at him. And yet, despite this, he couldn't really summon up the strength to feel badly about it. In fact he couldn't seem to feel much of anything. It was as if someone had sucked all the energy from him, body and soul, and left him nothing but a shell.

Martin leaned against the back of the stone bench and exhaled slowly, his eyes taking in the beauty of the night sky above him. It was beautiful here - this small section of paradise that belonged to absolutely no one. It was almost peaceful and calming enough to soothe the throbbing in his head.

Almost.

Sitting there, his body at rest, he felt wearier than he had ever felt. He closed his eyes to the moon-kissed gardens and surrendered to total and complete darkness.

After a time, the sound of slow moving footsteps came to his ears. Martin smiled, knowing that Jeffrey had come to check on him.

"Martin?"

The fledgling smile disappeared instantly as Martin opened his eyes in surprise. That hesitant voice most assuredly did not belong to Jeffrey.

Taking care not to aggravate his aching head, Martin rotated his body until he found himself looking up at Daniel.

"Jeffrey said you like these."

Martin looked down and saw that Daniel held a glass in his hand. In the wan light, it almost seemed to glow. He looked back up. "I do," he said, holding out his hand for it.

The glass was at his lips almost as soon as Daniel placed it in his hand. The cool, mint liquid tasted wonderful.

After taking another long sip, he noticed that Daniel was still standing above him.

He set the glass onto the bench beside him. "Would you care to sit down?"

"Thank you," Daniel responded, gracefully sitting right next to Martin.

Martin stayed silent, too tired to attempt to say anything. Besides, what could he say? 'I'm sorry that one of my guests attacked you, Daniel?'

"You know if you keep rescuing me like this, I'm going to have to wear a dress and change my name to Danielle."

"The golden prince strikes again?" Martin asked, recalling the phrase from one of their first conversations.

"Something like that."

"You're welcome."

"I didn't thank you."

The unexpected coldness in Daniel's voice caused Martin to turn his head toward him, but all he could see was Daniel's profile in half-shadow. "What?" he asked.

"You should have just let it happen, Martin."

Martin couldn't believe what he was hearing. He raised his voice despite the spike of pain it caused in his head. "What are you talking about?"

Daniel turned to face him. "Martin, I've been doing that kind of thing for three years now. I'm good at it. That guy wouldn't have lasted two minutes. And then it would have been over and we all would have gone on our merry way. But because you had to step in and play the hero, now you've got a senator angry at you..."

"That's not..." Martin began.

"An important senator who threatened you. Actually threatened you. And your woman walked out on you. And for what?"

Daniel might as well have been speaking a foreign language for all the sense he was making. Not only was he not grateful for what he had done, he actually sounded angry that his assault had been interrupted.

"Ok, look," Martin said, feeling a bit irritated that he was finding himself on the defensive. "For one thing, I can take care of the senator and Sam."

"Oh, can you?"

The blithe sarcasm in Daniel's reply effectively killed Martin's irritation and replaced it with anger. "Yes, I can. And secondly...well...I can't believe what I'm hearing! 'And for what?' Daniel," he shouted, gesticulating wildly, "you were being assaulted in my home. I wasn't just going to sit there and let that happen!"

He was so caught up in what he was saying that the pain in his head became a secondary concern - nothing but a phantom sensation that barely registered. But as soon as the words stopped flowing from his mouth and he took that first deep breath...

The red, pulsing agony in his skull bent him over nearly double.

"Hey, you ok?"

Through the haze of pain that had cocooned itself around him, Martin thought he detected concern in Daniel's voice.

He forced himself to straighten, and took several slow, steady breaths like the doctors had taught him. Eventually the pain became manageable again. "It's just a headache," he croaked out.

"That's some headache," Daniel said, not sounding wholly convinced.

"Yeah, well, arguing with you doesn't make it any better."

"We weren't arguing. We hadn't gotten that far yet."

Before Martin could reply to that, Daniel said, "Maybe you should take something."

This time Martin definitely heard the concern. He felt warmed by it, despite everything. It was then that he noticed that Daniel's hand was sitting lightly on his shoulder. His heart jumped within his chest at the touch. "I did," he said distractedly. "They haven't taken effect yet."

"Well, shouldn't you be upstairs lying down, waiting for them to take effect?"

The hand was removed from his shoulder and Martin mourned its loss. He shrugged slightly, careful not to aggravate the pain. "This is where Zara used to take me when the pain was bad. I guess I'm used to waiting here."

"Who's Zara?"

"She was one of our maids."

Daniel nodded, and if he thought it strange that a maid used to take care of him when he was ill, he made no mention of it.

"You've had the headaches for a long time?" he asked after a while.

"As far back as I can remember," Martin answered. "They tend to come in times of stress." This last he said with a sarcastic lift of his eyebrow, although he was fairly certain that Daniel wouldn't see the gesture in the dark. "Zara told me that the first one happened because Father wouldn't let me have a second helping of dessert."

Daniel's soft chuckle drifted over to him. "Your mother didn't mind that one of the maids was taking care of you like that?"

Ah, so he did think it strange. "My mother died when I was a baby."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Daniel mumbled.

"I'm not," Martin said matter-of-factly, then feeling that he sounded cold, he added, "I never knew her."

"Well, then I'm sorry for that."

Martin fidgeted, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. He was usually a very reserved person, and it was very unusual for him to be revealing anything so personal. "Anyway, you didn't come here to talk about me," he said quickly, stumbling through his disconcertion. "You came to tell me how angry you are."

At this he turned to face Daniel at last, but Daniel quickly turned his head away. His black hair blended in so well with the surrounding night that it gave the impression that he had disappeared altogether. "I'm not angry."

"Oh?"

"Slaves don't get angry at their masters."

"And why is that?"

"Because a master's word is law. And if you break it, your master could make you very sorry."

Martin sighed, feeling worn and wasted all over again. "Daniel, haven't you realized by now that I'm not like that? I'd never hurt you. It wouldn't matter whether you were angry, frustrated, or annoyed with me . . . I won't punish you for that. You can tell me the truth."

Daniel slowly turned his head to face Martin. "Well, in that case . . . I'm angry at you."

"Really? I never would have guessed."

Daniel raised his chin, his customary smirk back in place. Martin couldn't help but smile at its return; he had missed it. "You must think I'm the worst slave you've ever purchased," he said.

"First of all, I've only ever purchased you and Jeffrey. And secondly, I don't regret bringing you here. I'm glad you're here."

Daniel ducked his head, as if embarrassed by the kind words. "Thank you," he said softly.

Now it was Martin's turn to put his hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Look, I know you're upset with me - although I'm not really sure I understand why - but I can't say I'm sorry about what I did. I couldn't stand there and let you be hurt. That's just not who I am."

Daniel raised his head and, looking straight out in front of him, nodded slowly. Martin dropped his hand into his lap and turned his head so that he too was facing forward. He had said what he needed to say; now it was up to Daniel to decide whether or not he would accept it.

But Daniel didn't say anything and the silence stretched out between them until Martin felt that he had to speak. Yet, he couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound redundant. Finally, he settled for a weak, "Why don't you go to bed, Daniel? It's been a long day for everybody."

Daniel nodded, then stood. "Yeah, I think I will." Yet instead of leaving, he just stood there, hands in his pockets, toeing the ground with his shoe. At length he asked, "Is your headache better?"

Surprised by the question, Martin took inventory. Yes, his headache was almost gone. In another minute or two there would be nothing of it left.

"Much. Thanks for asking."

"Good. Well, I'd better get going. Goodnight, Martin."

"Goodnight, Daniel."

"Danny."

Martin turned abruptly to see that the other man was almost at the door to the house. "What?" he asked, thinking that he must have heard incorrectly.

"My name. Call me Danny."