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Title: Orpheus and Eurydice Part 2: The Bone of Contention
Author: Cicero
Fandom: Inspector Morse
Pairing: Morse/Lewis, Lewis/other
Rating: R or NC-17
Summary: Lewis and Morse are dancing about each other while a murderer is targeting young men.
Email Address: Cicerothewriter@livejournal.com
Categories: Angst, first time
Feedback notes: Any kind of feedback will be appreciated, even if you just write me a one-line email telling me that you've read the story, and I will be happy.
Warnings: Murder, graphic gay sex and vampirism, WIP.
Notes: This is my first Inspector Morse story, so if you have any comments, please tell me. I had a bit of trouble with Lewis' accent, and I'm also on the look out for Americanisms. Anything in brackets "[ and ]" are my personal notes. If there is a question or suggestion in them, then let me know what you think about that as well. I have only seen 8 Morse stories on TV so I am probably writting against cannon as well.
Notes 2: * * are for emphasis. Anything in italics are thoughts of a character.
Disclaimer: I do not own Morse or Lewis. Central Independent Television owns them. I'm just playing around with them.

Part 2: The Bone of Contention

Everyone watched as Lewis walked into Strange's office. News had spread fast that Morse had pushed his normally mild-mannered partner too far, and that Lewis had disappeared to places unknown. There was an office pool with about half believing that their partnership was at an end while the other half believed that Lewis, like always, would forgive Morse. But nobody could predict how Strange would react to Lewis' escape.

Lewis entered the office knowing that all eyes were upon his. Strange was sitting at his desk, reading the newspaper. Without looking up, he said, "Sit down, Lewis."

Lewis did so, his hands in his lap and his eyes downward. He expected a severe reprimand, maybe even a suspension, especially for missing the arrest. It did not matter that he had not known of it. His job was to keep up with those details.

They sat in silence for about a minute until Strange asked, "Has Morse apologized to you yet?"

"No, sir," Lewis replied, surprised. "There's no reason for him to."

"You make it sound as thought it was your fault, Lewis."

"Isn't it, sir?"

"No, it isn't. Morse should learn to control that temper of his. You were right to leave. You didn't need to take his abuse." He looked up to find Lewis flushed with guilt.

"He didn't get into trouble, did he?"

"I had to tell him to lay off. It shouldn't happen again."

"What about the arrest?"

"Kershaw was able to fill in for you." He paused, unsure about whether to say the next thing. "Are you feeling better now, Lewis?" He could see that Lewis was looking moderately better, once the guilty look left his face. He did not know where Lewis had disappeared to, but he had left his wife behind. That did not bode well.

"If you need to speak to me, at all, then please let me know."

"I will, sir." Strange waved him away, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he left. He put on a blank look, but everyone knew that things were better. He went back into the office. He could not type up the report yet since he did not have the details. Since he was so early, he decided to clean up the office.

About an hour later, Morse entered the station. Lewis' car had been parked outside in its usual spot. He took a deep breath, and entered their office. There were stacks of papers everywhere. Lewis was sifting through them, organizing them into piles. He looked up as Morse entered. His face was wary. Morse hated that look on his sergeant, and mentally kicked himself once again.

"Good morning, sir," Lewis said, turning back to the papers. He fanned himself with one of the folders.

"Good morning, Lewis," he replied, watching the brown hairs on Lewis' head dance in time to the quick breeze.

There seemed to be an inordinately high number of people continually passing by their office. Morse's eyes jerked towards the door. Lewis' eyed followed his, and he nodded slightly.

Morse smiled as he moved to his desk. They were, for the moment, in harmony with each other.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the building turned blistering hot inside. Morse sat at his desk, fanning himself nonchalantly with the file that he was reading. Behind him, the small window was wide open, periodically letting in a slight breeze. An electric fan sat on Lewis' small desk, swinging its head slowly from Morse to Lewis.

Lewis was standing in front of the open filing cabinet, cleaning out the old files to make room for the current case folders. His back was facing Morse, and he was paying no attention to the older man. A small radio had also been placed on the desk, tuned to Radio 3.

However, Morse was very much aware of the fine figure of his sergeant. His eyes were drawn to the curve of that slender back and the pert rear encased in close-fitting, gray-blue trousers. He shifted awkwardly in his chair before turning his eyes back to the paper in his hands.

Morse was worried. Lewis had been in to see Strange before he arrived. He hoped that Lewis had not gotten the yelling that he himself had received. He knew that he should apologize for Friday. He should not take out his dissatisfaction on Lewis. After all it was not his fault that Morse was frustrated.

"Nice music, that. What is it?" Lewis asked suddenly.

Morse looked up to find Lewis staring at him, a peculiar look on his face. Lewis turned away quickly, leaving Morse to ponder it.

"It's from "Orfeo Et Eurydice" by Christoph Willibald Gluck," Morse answered. "I didn't realize that you were interested in opera, Lewis."

Lewis shrugged, and Morse got an excellent view of his shoulders underneath the stretching blue shirt. "I think that you've rubbed off on me a bit, sir. I've become more interested in that sort of thing."

Lewis closed the top drawer and bent to open the middle one. Morse swallowed heavily before continuing. "It is a very interesting story. Orpheus lost his wife soon after they were married. He went down to the Underworld and used all his skills to charm the gods into letting him have her back, only to lose her once again on account of his one idiotic mistake."

Lewis had that same look on his face. If Morse had to describe it, he would say it was sad, almost stricken, a wounded innocent. "Very sad," he murmured before turning back to the file cabinet.

Morse sat in an introspective silence for several minutes before returning to the folder in his hand. After several false starts, he was finally able to take in the information. His focus, however, was broken by the ringing telephone. He tossed the folder onto his desk and picked up the phone.

"Hello, Morse here."

"What is it?" Lewis asked as Morse put down the phone.

"There's been a murder."

Morse pulled his red jaguar into the gravel drive of the Alary estate, abandoned since the late 1800's. It was a fairly small manor, but with an extensive garden. The locals were currently using the entire place as a park. They were directed to the man-made lake by a constable waiting at the entrance. The stone path was partly covered by the same green grass that surrounded the area. The lake was clear and the area was surprisingly well kept. However, there was an absence of life on this particular day that thickened the air.

Max was bent over the prone body when they arrived. Morse stood off to the side, glancing only once at the dead man. The youngster had brown hair and fine features. If he had been standing, he would have been tall as well.

"A very strange situation," Max said as Lewis bent to look closer at the body.

"Strange," Morse asked, "how so?"

"There is very little blood in his body. He has been drained. Looks like you've got a vampire on your hands." Max chuckled loudly.

Morse looked incredulously at him and snorted. "Be serious, Max!" he said as he grimaced and looked down, but quickly looked away again when he found himself gazing into the dead man's half closed eyes.

"I am," he replied. "Here are the marks." He pointed to the small cut on each wrist. "The incision was made across each artery."

"A slow way to die," Morse continued. "Why does he have such a peaceful expression?"

"Maybe he'd been kept busy," Lewis suggested.

Max struggled back up. "I'll be able to tell you more after the autopsy."

"Can you tell me when he died?

"After the autopsy, Morse."

Morse growled in frustration. Lewis just gave him a sympathetic look before busying himself sifting through the plastic bag holding the contents of the dead man's pockets. Morse noticed that Lewis' brown hair matched the rich color of the victim's hair.

"Mr. Alexander Lyons-Patrick," Lewis read off the driver's license.

Max finished brushing the grass from his knees as he said, "I shall call you later with the results, probably sometime around 4 o'clock."

"Can't you tell me anything now?" Morse asked.

"Well, he was undoubtedly killed last night. It will be more difficult to say exactly when since last night was so hot. No signs of violence, except for the small cuts, probably made by a very thin, pointed knife."

"So he could have been drugged before he was cut."

"It is possible, but I can't say for certain until after the autopsy." Max picked up his brief case and motioned to the ambulance. "Are you done with him?"

Morse looked to Lewis who nodded. "Yes, I've looked all I care to do for the moment," Morse said brusquely, giving another quick, half-glance at the body.

Max left them to examine the scene. There were no tire tracks, no overturned grass, and no signs that anyone had been there. The thick grass, and the light rain this morning, had eliminated any traces.

"Anything interesting in his pockets, Lewis?" Morse asked.

"A hotel key, and several hundred pound notes. Nothing much," Lewis replied as he handed the clear bag to Morse.

"Call the hotel and ask about the key. I'll find talk with whoever found him."

Lewis nodded, and left to retrieve his mobile from the Jag as Morse went to find the police constable.

Morse found the PC directing a group of children to picnic elsewhere. The kids groaned loudly before finally turning away.

"Constable..."

"Wiggins, sir."

"Wiggins, thank you. Who found the body?"

"I don't know, sir. We received a call at the station that someone had found a dead man here. They refused to give a name."

"Was the call traced?"

"Yes, it was a phone box near the University."

"Hell," Morse said.

"Yes, sir," the constable agreed.

They stood aside as the ambulance drove through, followed by Max's car. Morse left the constable to his post, and returned to his car. Lewis was there writing in his small notebook.

"Find anything?" Morse asked.

Lewis shook his head as he continued to write. "Mr. Lyons-Patrick had booked a room two nights in advance, but never arrived yesterday."

Lewis looked up then to find Morse scowling. "Who found him?" Lewis asked.

"They don't know. It was called in." Morse looked around once more before continuing, "We've done all we can do here. Let's get back."

Their drive was silent. Lewis was wondering when Morse was going to let him have it. If Morse knew he had left with James Lance, then it would not take very much brainpower to figure out what he had been doing with him. Lewis had no way of knowing whether Morse would be disgusted or unconcerned.

"Lewis," Morse said suddenly. Lewis kept from jumping nervously, but only just.

"Yes, sir?"

"I want to apologize about Friday. I should not have yelled at you like that. It was uncalled for."

"That's fine, sir. I understood and..."

"Lewis, it is not fine," Morse said sharply. "What I did was wrong. Now, I've apologized, either accept it or don't, and tell me why."

"I accept your apology," Lewis said quietly.

Morse frowned a bit. "Why?" he asked.

"Why?" Lewis replied, confused.

"Yes, why? Why do you forgive me? After what I did to you?"

Lewis though the response, 'Because I love you', would not be well received. "Because I know you didn't mean it."

Morse drove in silence for a few minutes before asking, "Are you feeling better?"

Lewis turned to look at Morse. He saw sympathy, concern, but also something else. If he did not know any better, he would have called it jealousy.

"Sort of," he said, looking ahead. "I missed you though."

Morse looked sharply at him. Some of the nameless emotions left Morse's eyes, leaving them a more brilliant blue. "You did?"

Lewis nodded, a little smile on his lips. Morse looked pretty pleased with himself.

TBC...



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