“How can you be so sure?” Frankie demanded, something curling up his lip. Anger, disappointment,
an emotion Snod couldn’t place.
“I’m following my heart,” Snod said, left timid by such a vulnerable answer.
Frankie’s eyes cut into him, trying to seek out any evidence of deceit. He seemed torn, but allowed
himself to reach out for Snod’s hand. “Thank you,” he said at last. “For the desk. It’s a very thoughtful
gift. A very illegal, very compulsive gift.”
“It was not compulsive,” Snod protested stubbornly. “I had a very concise and detailed plan.”
“Oh?” Frankie’s face lit up, making a small sound of amusement. “A detailed plan that involved an
ancient and absolutely hideous ice cream truck?”
“You saw us?”
“How could I not?” Frankie chuckled. “I am a vampire, remember? Supernatural senses and all of
that.”
“That was not part of the plan.”
“Wait a second,” Frankie said, backpedaling a moment as he sharply accused, “What did you mean by
‘us’? Who went with you?”
“Rees came with me.”
Frankie squeezed Snod’s hand almost as if he wanted to break it, sighing haggardly, “You’re both
freakin’ idiots.”
“He wanted to help,” Snod defended with a small pout.
Frankie looked back at the desk, shaking his head with a short laugh, “Oh! I’m sure he did. He
remembers how angry I was when I came so close to getting this back...”
“And lost it at the auction,” Snod said quietly. “He told me. He wanted to do something to thank you.
For saving his life.”
“Mmmm, he told you that tired old story, did he?” Frankie asked fondly.
“Yes,” Snod answered with a light smile. “He said you would like the desk, that it would be special
because it was from when you were alive.”
“It was a gift,” Frankie explained slowly. “From Mr. Franklin.”
“So you did work for him,” Snod confirmed smugly, delighted that Frankie was finally opening up to
him.
“I did,” Frankie said with a little smirk, lightly tracing his thumb over Snod’s knuckles. “I started off
