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Bought And Paid For -- Part 1 Bought and Paid For By: Leela Ganey Part one of ??? Disclaimer: Don't own PLACEBO. I lay no claim to understand the weird personal lives of Brian Molko or Steve Hewitt. Rating: Right at the moment it is at pg-13 level... but it will turn into nc-17 later. Thank Yous: Stephie-chan for editing the fic and all the other fics I have done. Megs for bringing back the "Taste In Men" single from England. The little note pad at work that I wrote most of the story on at work. Feed back: It is always a good thing. Praises to flames are accepted. Bought And Paid For "What about this one?" Brian held up a tux that was nearly identical to every other tux before it. "No." Steve shook his head. "No?" Brian sighed heavily. "What is it with you? You can do this. Just pick one." "Just pick one? Am I hearing this coming out of your mouth? The very same man who dragged me around for six hours in search of the perfect outfit?" He laughed a little and shifted through another set of tuxes. "It was not six hours." "Okay, then it was a good chunk of my time and life that I will never get back." He paused for a moment to consider another tux. "What about your pinstripe suit?" "What about it?" "It looks fabulous on you. Besides... You always look like a weird version of James Bond when you wear a tux." "Me look like James Bond in a tux? Brian sometimes I wonder about the working brain cells in your head." He turned to look at the tux Brian was holding up. "Besides this is a benefit, shouldn't I make more of a showing that the pinstripe suit?" "All I am saying is that you can wear the tux and be like all the other men there, or wear your pinstriped one and stand out." He paused to sneeze. "Damn winter. I hate these fucking colds." Brian sniffled a little. "You're worse than a two year old." Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief. "Here." Brian just looked at him. "You carry these?" He unfolded it and looked at it. "Such an ancient tradition, Steve." Steve just shook his head. "I think I'll just go with the pinstripe suit. God knows, if I try to stand here any longer I'll have to start answering more questions about my handkerchief." "Which does beg the question of why you have one," Brian started in. "All I am going to tell you is that old habits die hard," Steve replied cryptically. "What habits? You have no habit like that." "Get your bag, Brian, we're going." Brian grabbed his bag. "What is this? The secret life of Steve Hewitt?" He almost had to run to catch up with Steve. "No, this is one of those things that could begin with 'When I was a boy...'" Steve walked out into the street, Brian a mere half step behind him. "Oooo..one of those." He grabbed onto Steve's arm. "Do tell." "So you can chide me for the rest of my life? I think not." He tried very hard to ignore the tingling in his body as Brian clutched his arm. He wanted to push Brian away. It would make things easier for his mind and, well, his sometimes overactive body. "Me, chide you? About childhood habits?" Brian paused for a moment as if he might actually be pondering it. "Nope... Never." "You would and you know it, as do I." "Damn you and your ability to see through my sarcasm. Now I think I will have to kill you," Brian huffed. "Kill me? Really, Brian, you have got to think of the practicality of it all. You hate drum machines. And darling... what of the children?" Steve let his head hang. "Me gone... Killed... All that talent wasted." He let himself have fun with his mock plea for life. He just couldn't help going on with it. "Besides, it would be a poor showing at the benefit this evening." "By the by, what is it with you and that benefit thing. I'm surprised you decided to do it." "It's to raise money for orphaned children that have cancer. Brian, as much as I tend not to get involved in things, I cannot ignore this." They wondered the streets. For once the sun was out and there wasn't a cloud in sight. They sat down at an open air cafe. "Besides, maybe it's just that when I sit and think about Emily, I wonder if I weren't there or if something happened to me and her mum. God, who would care? What would become of her? I like to know that there are people who would want to help." He was silent for a moment. "Although I don't completely understand all of what you said, I get the general idea." They sat down at a table. A young waiter that looked to be barely 16 and half asleep came and took their order of tea and sandwiches. "But being in a bachelor auction, Steve, that is a bit much." "I thought it might be a bit of fun. Not that I am going to fetch a grand price or anything." He took a sip of the tea the waiter bought. "I am surprised that you didn't jump at the chance to do this." "Don't make me laugh, Steve. Who in their right mind would pay to spend a night out with me?" Brian said jokingly. "I would," Steve said softly. Brian gave him an odd look. *Crap. Said that out loud I did. Damn it.* Steve thought of something. "But then again, if I ever wanted to see you, I just could call you. No need to pay." Brian was still giving him a weird look. "Okay, no more tea for you. It's started to rot your brain." He laughed, even though he didn't feel like laughing. The way Steve had said that last comment. Very softly like he was saying it to himself and not to the world as he did. Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder about Steve every now and then. It was just a few things here and there. He could feel Steve's eyes on him for a second longer than he was comfortable with. But not completely uncomfortable. Wait... was he making sense? Maybe anything was possible... Well, almost anything anyway. But still he loved those moments. The reason they made him uncomfortable would be the fact that at times, he couldn't figure Steve out to save his life. They sat in quiet thought. Steve was the first to break the silence. "Are you at least going to attend this evening?" "I might." "You might? Like you have something else better to do." "Well, I might," Brian protested. "But then again, why would I miss the opportunity to see you get auctioned off like a piece of meat?" "Yeah, I am sure you would just love to watch that. Just one thing, darling, don't get too jealous of whoever wins," he said between bites of his sandwich. Brian put his hand over his heart. "I promise to be on my best behavior." He took a few bites of his sandwich. "Really, I will be quite the doll. I won't run anyone through or spike any drinks." "Since you have promised, I will expect nothing but you being the well-refined proper young lady you can be." "It might be a bit trying, not giving any catcalls and such," Brian said while trying to put on a pouty face and tone. "You act as if I am purposely trying to ruin all your wholesome fun. Maybe not wholesome... You and that word just don't seem to go together in any context." "I can be wholesome." "Yeah, like a clown can be serious." "We had better get going, or you are going to never it to the benefit thing this evening," Brian said, trying to change the subject. "Yeah, I know. But how often is it sunny in London?" he said while taking out his wallet and paying the waiter. "Besides, I know you... You are just trying to change the subject." "Maybe, but we do have to go." "Now, the choice that scares all that live in London... should we be killed in the back of crazy cabbie's cab? Or take the tube and die of heat exhaustion?" "I think being killed while riding in the back of a cab sits well with me at the moment." Then added with a little extra dramatic flare, "Besides, the heat from the underground makes the curls in my hair fall flat." "If there ever was a good reason not to take the tube, that would be it." Steve hailed a cab. Both of them made it to their respective homes. End Part of ??? 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