Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even my computer.

An unusual quartet sat in a small restaurant, talking over drinks.

The first man looked ex-military. His stiff bearing and reflexive scanning of the room as new patrons entered showed that despite his grey hair, this man was dangerous.

The next man however, seemed to be ignoring the warning. His manner was of a lazy cat, absolutely comfortable draped over his chair, and over the older man's shoulder slightly. His model good looks and perfectly tailored suit attracted some very positive attention, but the glares of the first man told everyone not to try to get anywhere.

The third man seemed to belong more in a classroom at Harvard, or a Sherlock Holmes novel. His tweed suit was stretched slightly over a comfortable middle, and his eyes twinkled behind his glasses as he recounted an old story to the fourth, and possibly strangest member of their party.

The last was a girl in her mid-twenties, wearing a black lacy dress with chuck tailors, and showing off her tattoos. She was laughing at the third man's story, with a glee that made her dark makeup and hair seem incongruous.

Despite their many differences, the four chatted with a comfort only seen in very old friends.

"And then the man found his sandwich in the refrigerator the next day!" The rotund man recounted, and all three of the others laughed.

"Well, we have work tomorrow," the man said regretfully, looking at his watch, "and you, Abigail, have to go to your bowling."

The girl pulled out an old-fashioned pocket watch. "Oh! The nuns will be waiting." She pulled out her bag after this odd statement, leaning over to give each man a peck on the cheek. "Bye Ducky, great story. Seeya Jet, Tony. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

With a wink, and a waggle of her finger she left, leaving the younger man blushing at the mock warning.

"I'll see you two tomorrow also. Bed time for this old man." Ducky got up slowly, leaving his money plus a tip on the table. He smiled at a waitress as he walked by, and she grinned back at the pleasant old gentleman.

"Come on Tony." Jethro stood up, running a hand through his greying hair.

His lover stretched languorously before getting up too, grabbing the older man's hand as they left. He snuggled up close as they pushed through the large wooden doors, and the chilly night air hit them.

They walked to their car, carefully finding their footing over the slippery concrete, still wet from the rain that had been pouring down just a few hours ago. Jethro pulled out his keys, smiling at Tony as he flipped through them, searching for the one to unlock his car.

"Fucking fags." A drunken voice slurred from the other side of the car park.

Tony turned to face the voice, intent on giving the speaker a piece of his mind, but a firm hand on his bicep warned him to stop.

"Tony. He's not worth it."

Tony nodded reluctantly, giving his lover a light peck before hopping in the car.

As they drove away, Jethro thought he heard the man spewing more disgusting words in their general direction. He backed into a puddle, spraying the man with water, before leaving the parking area.

"Oops." He said unrepentantly as Tony gave him a questioning look. "Didn't see that there."

Tony laughed slightly, recognising that Jethro had done it for his sake.

"Thanks." He offered, and Jethro didn't bother to pretend he didn't know what Tony was talking about, instead stroking the dark man's cheek.

"Any time."