1:25am, 24 June 2007, Washington, District of Columbia

Luke sat at the bar and leaned back against it. Behind him, a tall, well-formed man named Rex was moving his muscular body to the pounding beat of the dance remix of "Phantom of the Opera." Abiding by the law, the man was clothed in two items of clothing--a sock on the right foot, and a sock on the left foot.

Luke loved this place. Wet, it was called. He preferred La Cage, before his Change, but all the mirrors there chased him to the rival Wet. Such an appropriate name, La Cage was, he mused. Most of the people there looked like caged beasts. But they weren't pacing from side to side, watching with carnivorous eyes. No, they had been broken, and were lying in the corner, looking sullenly out between the bars, hoping for a handout.

He felt a warmth behind him, and something on top of his head. A nightstick came down from over his right shoulder to massage his groin. Luke rolled his eyes slightly, his back still to the dancer. F-cking Rex never knew when to quit. So Luke turned around, fished a dollar out of his pocket, and stuck it in Rex's sock. For a buck, Rex would let Luke run his hands all over his body, within the limits set by the management.

Luke obliged Rex, running his hands over the man's greasy body while Rex continued to dance and play with himself, playing his part of the game. Luke looked past Rex, around the corner of the bar, and caught the eye of another patron. He was a young man, about 23, and quite short. He had a blond high-and-tight, and a square jaw. Ahh, a Marine, Luke thought to himself as hunger stirred deep in his loins.

Marines always looked good tied in front of a window so the whole world could see they weren't nearly as well-endowed as they claimed.

Rex gave Luke a peck on the cheek and a thanks by name--Luke was a regular, after all--and moved on down the bar. The Marine was too busy looking at Luke to pay attention to Rex. Slightly miffed, Rex moved on.

Luke stifled a giggle, but allowed it to show as a small smile. That encouraged the shy Marine to venture over and strike up a conversation.

Yes, Luke thought, you are a pretty one. And did you know you're flirting with the one who left a death threat for a US Senator two weeks ago? So much for protecting and preserving the Constitution, babe. Pity those cameras in Hart can't pick up someone with no reflection. And it was just sad that the DC police took so long to arrive after almost all of the windows in her house were smashed, one by one, while she was inside.

And all they would have found was a dissipating pool of darkness.

Luke smiled and placed his hand on the Marine's knee. The young man purred a little, and leaned in, letting his arm rest on Luke's thigh. Did you know, little soldier, that your arm is draped across the thigh of the man who left a prostitute's right leg atop the altar of the Chapel of the Good Shepherd in the National Cathedral? I doubt you would want to do the things you are suggesting if you knew that.

Luke leaned in close and kissed the Marine gently. Of course we can't go to your place, Luke thought, because all of your Marine buddies would know you were a faggot. Yeah, let's go back to my place. My hacksaw's there anyway.

Luke placed a sheltering arm around the young Marine as they walked out into the balmy Washington summer night. You are my reward, Luke thought. You are the prize for the plan now set in motion. And such a tender prize you are, babe.

Luke drove back to Pentagon City speedily, across Washington's twisted freeways. He looked out at the stars and mused about whether or not this young monument next to him would be around to see the end of July. He doubted it. But he let that thought remain in the tense, pregnant silence of tricks crossing the border into Virginia to commit a felony.

Luke let the man into his condo and pushed him against the wall without turning on the light. Luke kissed him deeply and hungrily, and he responded in kind. The Marines have been hard on you, young soldier, very hard indeed. But you are my prize, he thought, as he led the blond man stumbling down the hall to his workroom. My prize for taking down the Lost One.

Luke didn't turn on the light in his workroom either, simply pushing the Marine backward onto the bed. Luke lay down atop him and kissed him deeply, feeling the young man's rising ardor meet his.

Oh yes, Luke thought. This prize will do very nicely, and I won't even have to wait for July 24th. An advance, he thought, that's what you are, babe. An advance for giving Clayton another Tisha B'Av he would rather forget.