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The Return of el Gato	By : Croik Category: M through R > The Rundown Views: 3704 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Rundown, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Return of el Gato
- 1
The Rundown, its characters
and settings, do not belong to me, and are being used without permission. This fic was
written for Yuletide Fandom 2004 (for cathybites), and is rated a soft NC-17 for sexual content,
namely Beck/Travis. Comments welcomed
<3

The Return of el Gato

11:07
p.m. The doors were closed, the last orders taken
and served - it was unquestionably Beck�s favorite part of the day. Having left the kitchen
clean up to his workers he slipped into a suit coat and wandered out into them main
dining room. There were never
many customers this late, but more than in most other restaurants around
town. All the young couples were curious
about the newest hangout in town, with it�s casual
setting and creative menu offerings, though nothing drew attention to Beck�s as much as its popular head chef
and owner. A few would even stay this
late at the restaurant�s small bar to just shake his rumored to be very large
hand. More than once he was questioned
on his motives for becoming a chef rather than an athlete.

�Well,� Beck replied with his
characteristically boyish grin to one of his late-night customers, �let�s just
say I�m not photogenic.�

He laughed at a few jokes,
accepted the phone number of a skinny red-head in a suit, and turned down a few
offers to arm-wrestle before declaring it was finally closing time. Pleasant days like this� he had decided in
the past few weeks that these were what he lived for. Good people, good food, even if the money
aspect didn�t always measure up. But he
was getting by, and loving it, and that was all that
mattered.

The skinny red-head left with
her friends, and since Beck couldn�t help but pay attention he was already
watching the door when a familiar figure ducked inside. His shoulders fell. �Damnit.� He turned, determined to sneak back to the
kitchen before he was spotted.

�Beck!� the man�s voice rang
out over the main room, causing the remaining waiters to glance up in
confusion. �Beck, it�s me!�

�I don�t have time for you,
Travis,� Beck called back, not breaking stride in his escape towards the
kitchen.

�C�mon,
Beck!� Travis Walker slipped through the tables; he
was clad in old, frayed jeans and a green camouflage shirt with the words
�Can�t See Me� printed across the front.
Beck found it unnaturally irritating that he had seen Travis enough in
the last few weeks that he recognized the shirt as one he�d worn a few
times. �Hey, I need your help - this
one�s easy, I swear!�

�Excuse me, we�re closed,�
said one of the waiters as he intercepted the uninvited nuisance. �You�re going to have to leave.�

�No, wait, I�m a friend of
Beck�s - C�mon, buddy, tell them! I
thought we were friends!�

Beck sighed, and stopped just
as he reached the kitchen door. With a
sigh he turned back. �It�s
okay, Rob,� he called to the waiter. �He
can stay.�

Travis puffed himself up
proudly, giving Rob a superior look. When Beck rolled his eyes and started to leave again he hurried
after. �Hey, I knew I could count
on you, old pal,� he declared, chasing him into the kitchen. �I really need your help on this one - it�s a
matter of life or death, I�m telling ya. And I�ll even pay you this time, I mean it.�

�No, you�re not,� Beck
replied evenly as he made his way through the tables and stoves, making sure
everything was being taken care of. �Because I�m not doing any �jobs� for you.�

�But this one�s different!�
Travis insisted. He finally caught up to
him and took his arm. �You�re a
professional, how can you��

Beck turned on him, his voice
pitching seriously as he stared the younger man down. �I am not
a professional anything. I am a chef and
a businessman. Now get out of here. And take some onion rings or something.� He waved at what remained of their last batch
for the night.

�Sweet, onion rings. Thanks.�
Travis helped himself to one, but the distraction didn�t last, and soon
he was back to his pestering self.
�Please, Beck, I really mean it this time. It�ll take you�an hour, tops. You know you�re the coolest guy I know��

�I�m not going to Mongolia,� Beck interrupted, meeting Travis�s gaze steely.

�You don�t have to!�

�Or South America, or Australia, or Canada��

�Aww,
that wasn�t so bad.�

��or even New Jersey.�

�You�re not still mad about
the blonde, are you?�

�Travis!� Beck gave him a shove, which if Travis hadn�t
been used to by now would have bowled him over.
�The answer is no.�

�But Beck��

�No. I mean it.�
He turned away again.

�Aw, don�t be like that! I gotta get my poor
little Gato back��

Beck paused at that, and
though it was already a mistake - and giving him a headache - he faced Travis
with a glare. �Your
Gato,� he echoed.
He rubbed his temple. �Travis,
the Gato is back in South America.�

�Not that Gato,�
Travis explained quickly. �A different Gato � a more important Gato � my Gato! Please,
Beck, you�ve got to help me get it back.�

Beck regarded him sternly for
a long moment, judging the man�s seriousness.
By now all his workers were staring at him, making him shift
uncomfortably. Finally, he sighed. �And you said it�d only take an hour.�

�Yeah - at
max. It�s just downtown�we can take your car.�

Beck�s
eyebrow quirked. They�d been through this several times
before, and he knew it wasn�t going to be any good, because Travis always
won. Maybe he just couldn�t stand up to
a Walker - they were strange people, and they always had a
strange effect on him. Damn type A personalities or something.

�Fine,� Beck submitted at
last. He was going to regret this. �Fine, I�m in. An hour, Travis � you�ve got to promise.

�Oh, I do,� Travis
assured. Even Beck had to admit, Travis
looked best with that wide, face-splitting grin of his. �Thanks a lot, man, you�re really a pal.� He scampered out the back. �I�ll be waiting at the car!�

Beck sighed in
resignation. After making sure his
employees knew what to do and giving Rob the keys to lock up, he made his way
to the parking lot at the back of the building.
Travis was waiting at his car, as promised. �So where are we going?� he asked as he approached,
loosening his tie.

�A club downtown,� Travis
said as they both got into the car. �But
you gotta be careful � they�re mean guys, the
worst! I�ll give you directions.�

�You know,� Beck remarked,
starting the car, �you really ought to be on medication.�

�Aw man, why do you have to say
hurtful things like that?�

Beck made a face. �Just give me the directions.�

--

Twenty minutes and a migraine
later they�d pulled up to a small downtown club on the east side of town, per
Travis�s directions. Beck parked and paid
their way inside. He�d been to a hundred
places like this, though despite Travis�s warnings the clientele didn�t look as
threatening as some he�d been to. In
fact, it just looked like a lot of kids having a good time. But Travis was nearly bouncing out of his
shoes, so Beck allowed himself to be guided through the crowds to a group of
guys at the back. They looked like wanna be gangsters, and weren�t doing a very good job of
it. When, they came closer, a few mouths
dropped.

�Holy fuck,� one of the young
men declared eloquently. �You weren�t
shitting us?�

�No, I wasn�t, was I?� Travis
shot back. He gave Beck a shove as if to
push him forward, but Beck didn�t budge.
He continued regardless. �I told
you he was a friend of mine. Now you
little punks are gonna get it!�

Beck sighed as he looked over
the group. He�d have to tease Travis
later about not being able to handle himself against a bunch of kids. �Look guys, I don�t want any trouble,� he
told them easily. �I�m just here to get
his Gato thing back.�

The apparent ringleader
pushed to his feet; quite an undertaking, given the amount of ugly metal
popping out of his face. �Then you�ve gotta pay up. This
bitch owes us five hundred.�

Beck�s expression loosened in
surprise. He glanced to Travis. �You owe them money?�

�Just a little,� Travis
confessed sheepishly. �But�you can take
them. I believe in you.�

�Gambling debt,� the
mock-gangster clarified, his hand sinking to his pocket as he regarded Travis�s
companion.

Beck�s eyes thinned, and
after a moment he smiled grimly. �I�m
disappointed in you, Travis,� he said.
He reached into his pocket, and though the younger men flinched it was
only to pull out his wallet. �Gambling
debts? You�re going to turn into your
old man.�

�It wasn�t gambling, it was a
dare,� Travis defended himself. �And
they didn�t need to break into my place!�

�Collateral,
you pussy. Are you paying up or what?�

�Here.� Beck pulled out a wad of bills and shoved
them toward the kid, distracting him from whatever was in his pocket. He wasn�t interested in getting into a knife
fight tonight, or worse. �Five hundred. Now
give him the Gato back and we�ll leave you guys to
your drinks.� After counting out the
money, the �leader� signaled to one of his lackeys, who disappeared into a back
room.

Travis, meanwhile, was
staring at Beck in disbelief. �That�s
it?� he asked incredulously. �You�re�not
going to rough them up? Not even a little?�

�No. I�m not.�

The kid returned, and to
Beck�s surprise the �gato� he held in his arms was no
priceless artifact but�a cat. A real, living, orange cat.
It was squirming, but otherwise looked unharmed. �Take it,� the kid muttered, handing it
over. �And next time, have your cash on
you.�

Travis hugged the animal to
his chest in relief, and Beck was certain he couldn�t be more embarrassed until
he started�cooing. �Aw,
my poor little Gato! I missed you - they weren�t mean to you,
where they? Mean little bastards��

�We�re leaving.� Beck quickly turned Travis around, and gave
the boys a nod of thanks before beginning to lead them out of the club. He couldn�t believe this. It was so ridiculous, so absurd � all of it �
so much so that he almost started laughing.
Almost.
When Travis noticed the bitter amusement in his face, he was all too
quick to comment.

�What happened back there,
huh?� he demanded in over-exaggerated Travis fashion as they left the
club. �You didn�t do anything! What happened to Option A and Option B? What about �no breaks�? Man, I was looking forward to you creaming
their little punk��

�It doesn�t work that way,
Travis,� Beck interrupted. �If you owe
someone money, you pay up. Now you owe
me five hundred dollars. Got it?�

Travis rolled his eyes as he
slipped into the car, cat in tow. �I
can�t believe you didn�t even give them Option A or B.�

�Shut up, Travis.�

Then they were on the road
again, putting all that silly nonsense behind them. Now that it was over, Beck felt a little
better. It was hard to be annoyed when
big adorable cat eyes were watching you.
He smiled thinly. �So the cat�s
name is Gato?�

�Yeah � she looks kind of
gold, doesn�t she?� Travis scratched the
animal�s head lovingly, causing it to purr.
�I figured if I couldn�t have the real thing, I might as well have the real treasure. A loving companion, aww�.�

Beck kept his attention on
the road, but he couldn�t help a smile.
Travis may have been a pain, but�he wasn�t so bad sometimes. It might have even been kind of nice to have
someone with that much spirit around.

�I�ll give you a ride home.�

�Aw, what a
pal.�

The pulled up to Travis�s
building several minutes later, but though he unbuckled he didn�t get out right
away. Instead he turned toward Beck, and
for once his face was serious.
�Hey. Thanks for backing me up
tonight � I know it�s dumb, but this cat means a lot to me. You know?
Part of the family and all.�

Surprised by the others
uncharacteristically heartfelt tone, whatever remaining irritation Beck might
have felt for the other abruptly drained away.
He smiled sincerely. �You�re
welcome. Now stay out of trouble, all
right?�

�Yeah.� Something
mischievous crept into Travis�s bright eyes.
�Hey. I said I�d pay you, didn�t
I?�

Beck snorted lightly. �You can�t pay off a bet, but you�re going to
pay me?�

�A promise�s a promise.�

Travis set Gato down on the floor of the car and twisted in his seat, reaching
to undo Beck�s seatbelt. He was so
puzzled by the abrupt action that he didn�t think to react until those same
hands were reaching for the front of his pants.
With an ungraceful sound of complaint he tried to push him back. �Hey!
What are you��

Travis leaned into him,
cutting off the rest of his sentence off by pressing their lips together in a
firm, somewhat clumsy kiss. It wasn�t
the first time Travis had come on to him but that didn�t make him any better
prepared to respond; he froze beneath Travis�s broad mouth, allowing the
younger man to slip his hands free.

Beck was released just as he
was running out of breath, and he gasped shortly to regain his composure. �Travis,� he hissed, �cut it out��

Somewhere
in his distraction � during the kiss?
� Travis had managed to unbutton the front of his pants, and he wasted no time
in slipping a hand inside. Beck probably
could have stopped him if he�d reacted quickly enough, but already flushed and
startled, trapped in the small confines of the driver�s seat, he wasn�t able to
act before Travis had him. As soon as
his most sensitive flesh was freed from his boxers it was enveloped in Travis�s
warm, wet mouth, stealing his ability to protest. His hand tightened convulsively around the
steering wheel. �Damnit��

Travis took him in fully,
relaxing his throat in the process � the firm suction of his mouth, the
movement of his wide tongue, drew a heat into Beck�s stomach and groin he
hadn�t quite experienced before. He
clamped his jaw shut to keep from making any sound of contentment that might encourage
the younger man.

Damn Travis.

Soon even those thoughts were
wiped clear from his mind; Travis�s wide mouth, which Beck had always
admonished him for, seemed to have drawn tight around him and stole his
breath. His fingers grabbed at Travis�
scalp, foot heavy on the brake as he struggled not to push his hips up against
that sweet, warm pleasure. All at once
moist lips drew his climax from him, surging through him with a warm shudder,
and he bit the inside of his lip hard to keep from making a sound.

Travis made a subtle noise of
surprise, and once his companion was spent pulled back, gulping him down and
wiping his mouth. �Jeez,
Beck, a little warning next time, huh?�

�W-Warning?� Beck sputtered, coming back to himself. �Next time � get out.� He swore under his breath in embarrassment as
he buttoned his pants back up. �What the
hell�s the matter with you?�

But Travis only laughed, and
when their eyes met again there was a glint in the younger man�s face, a sly
confidence that somehow told him�he would never be rid of Travis Walker. Whatever the hell they were.

�Come on, big boy.� Beck started when he realized that Travis
actually was leaving, Gato cradled in his arms. �It wasn�t so bad. You�re not blushing, are you?�

�Shut up, I�m not blushing,�
Beck muttered, though his hands fumbled a little as he buckled himself in once
more. He didn�t glance over again until
he heard the passenger door shut, and he rolled the window down. �Don�t forget you owe me five hundred
dollars,� he called after him.

�What?� Travis�s face appeared in the window with a
frown. �You�ve gotta
be kidding me. That wasn�t a five
hundred dollar blow��

�Forget it, forget it.� Beck wiped a bit of sweat from his brow and
shifted the car into drive. �Stay out of
trouble � and back away before I run you over.�

Travis laughed, but he
stepped back all the same. �Thanks for
tonight, big guy,� he said loudly. �I
owe you!�

Beck glared at him
incredulously, and when Travis puckered his lips he groaned, and finally sped
away from the curve. The last thing of
the other he saw was a glimpse of his face in the rearview mirror. He was wearing that same damn cocky smirk.
- 1
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The Return of el Gato