I could a tale unfold - 11

Two days passed without any more apparent visits from the young man. That was of course presuming that young man Ross had seen was the same person who had put the costumes on the dummies, but Ross couldn't imagine there being two people wandering around after hours.

He and Kirk would arrive home at night, drained. A usual thing for them when they were in the throes of getting a show up. After tossing together something vaguely edible, they'd collapse into bed, too tired to do more than hold each other until they fell asleep. Mornings were a little better, in that they made certain to stop and get a decent breakfast on the way to the theater.

On the afternoon of the third day, the cast was at the beginning of Act 5 of 'Hamlet'—the graveyard scene. Kirk bent to pick up Yorick's skull, as always, and frowned, but continued with his speech, unwilling to bring a halt to the rehearsal. It wasn't until an hour later that he had a chance to look closely at the prop. Then he strode across the backstage area to where Micah was busily preparing for the next act.

Kirk handed the skull to the prop master, asking, "Why did you change this?"

Taking one look at it, Micah set it down hurriedly on the prop table. "That's not the right one. This one is the real thing—I think." He bent over to look at it again. "Definitely real, if I don't miss my guess. Someone's playing a sick joke on us." He picked up a flashlight, shining it on the skull. "Look, there's still dirt or something on the inside."

"Damn. You mean someone dug it up out of a graveyard?" Kirk shuddered at that thought.

"I hate to say it, but I think so. I wonder if we should call the cops or something."

"Why are we calling the cops?" Chandler asked, coming up beside them.

Ross quickly explained. Chandler looked at the skull and then began pacing. Finally, reluctantly, he said that they should. "If for no other reason than to make certain it's not, well, recent I guess."

"Like from a murder? Now that's an even grosser thought than it's just coming from some poor schmuck's grave," Micah muttered.

"But possible I guess," Kirk commented. "I wonder—I hope this doesn't have to do with the guy who was messing around in the costume shop."

"Well if it does, at least it means we're only keeping an eye out for one person, not two," was Chandler's response, "Someone with a freakish sense of humor."

I could a tale unfold - 10

"It was a ghost," Kirk said with a grin when Ross told him about the young man he'd seen that morning.

Ross snorted. "I don't think ghosts can pick things up, at least not if the movies have it right."

"And just when did movies start doing that?"

"Good point." Ross chuckled then said, "I just don't like the idea of someone in the building who doesn't belong there. He could have been there all night, just waiting to be able to leave once the doors were unlocked, or worse."

"You think he was exploring and got caught inside? Seems to me the security people would have found him."

"Not if he hid away so they wouldn't. Oh well, no harm done so I guess I should stop worrying about it."

* * * *

Ross had second thoughts about that the next morning when he entered the costume shop. He discovered several of the costumes—that he knew he had hung up before leaving the previous evening—now adorned the dressmaker's dummies. Picking up the house phone, he called the security office, explaining what he'd found. Ten minutes later one of the two guards on the day shift arrived.

"Did you lock the door when you left last night?" the guard asked after taking a look around to make certain no one was lurking in the large shop area.

"No, but then I rarely do. I never really thought there was any reason to. I guess from now on I will."

"Might be a good idea, and I'll check to see if this man has been poking around in any other areas. Though if he had I'd think someone would already have let us know."

"Honestly, I sort of hope he has. I don't like the idea of some freak targeting me, or the costumes, or—whatever."

"I let you know what I find out and I'll tell the night shift to keep a tight eye out for anyone roaming the building. Especially here. Not that they don't anyway."

"Whoever it is must be a sneaky bastard to have avoided them, then," Ross muttered.

"Well now that we know…" The guard shrugged and took his leave, just as Ross's crew was arriving.

Ross explained what had happened and told them that from now on, until whomever it was had been caught, they were not to be in the shop alone. "And definitely not in the evenings."

His people were shocked and agreed to be careful, the two men promising to keep an eye on the women. That caused a few raised eyebrows from the females, Beth pointing out that she had shears and knew how to use them. Everyone laughed, and the tension abated as they started to work.

I could a tale unfold - 9

Ross frowned as he walked into the costume shop, seeing a young man he didn't recognize holding the doublet for Hamlet's first act costume. "May I ask who you are and what the hell you think you're doing?"

The young man spun around, wide-eyed, dropped the doublet, and then sprinted towards the back of the shop, disappearing in between the fabric racks.

Stopping just long enough to pick up the doublet, laying it on a cutting table, Ross took off after him. When he reached the rear wall of the shop, he realized the young man had vanished. He quickly checked to make certain he wasn't hiding somewhere before deciding the guy must have back-tracked down one aisle while he was going up the other.

When he returned to the front of the shop, Beth and one of the other girls walked in. "Did either of you see a man, dark-haired, maybe five nine or ten, in the hallway?"

Both of them shook their heads. "It was empty, except for us and a couple of the tech crew guys," Beth replied. "Why?"

"Because he was in here when I arrived, messing with one of Kirk's costumes." Ross went over to pick it up; checking it carefully to make certain the young man hadn't damaged it, before hanging up back where it belonged.

"Maybe a tourist? They do try to sneak in to see the backstage area if they can, you know," the other girl said.

"I might agree, if the building was open for the day, but it's not. Mucho strange. Well, hopefully, whoever he was he's long gone by now."

The rest of the day passed in a flurry of activity, Ross and his crew working to finish the basics on the costumes for the lesser members of the cast. Those for the leads were completed, just waiting for a final try-on in case they needed some last minute alterations.

By the time Ross sent his crew home, he was ready to drop. He had the feeling Kirk was probably in the same shape, so he stopped to grab two Styrofoam cups of coffee from the break room before heading towards the auditorium.

As he turned the corner, he felt as if someone was watching him. Looking back over his shoulder, all he saw was the empty hall. Putting it down to nerves and tiredness, he continued on his way.

Half an hour later, tossing his empty cup in a trashcan at the back of the theater, Ross started on the one he'd gotten for Kirk. Chandler was still giving notes, but at least things had gotten that far. Kirk was sitting on the edge of the stage as he listened, Hildie on one side of him, Tracie, who was playing Ophelia, on the other. They all looked as if they'd been run through the wringer, but the women still managed to chuckle at something Kirk said.

Finally, after a few closing words, Chandler let the cast go. Kirk jumped down, striding up the aisle to join Ross. "My coffee?" he asked with tired amusement when Ross handed him the half-empty cup. "At least you saved me a bit." He downed it in one gulp before crumpling the cup, throwing it at the trashcan, and then putting an arm around Ross' waist, saying, "Let's get out of here."

I could a tale unfold - 8

"Eyes right," Ross growled as he and Kirk left the diner.

Kirk smirked. "But you're on my left," he said, as his gaze roved over a couple of half-way handsome young men walking by.

"You damned well know what I mean." Ross sighed, reining in his flash of jealousy.

Putting his arm around Ross' shoulders, Kirk said softly, "I've told you before; I may look, but I don't stray. Usually. Certainly no more than you do."

"I know. Sorry. I just get a bit bummed out when you're with me and you so obviously look at someone else like they're Grade 'A' Prime."

"Tell me you didn't think those two were pretty damned built."

Ross looked and nodded. "Yeah, they're not too bad, for straights."

"No way."

"You're gaydar's off. I happen to know they are. I've seen them around with their wives."

"That doesn't prove anything," Kirk protested.

Ross snorted derisively. "Not everyone's Hildie and Newt. Speaking of which, is he still on your case?"

"No. He's laid off, finally, thank goodness. Though he does keep a weather eye on her during rehearsals. I suppose I should be glad we're not doing a romantic comedy. He'd probably be sitting stage right glaring daggers at me the whole time we were working."

"Just watch out for poisoned swords," Ross replied with a laugh.

"And cups of wine. Yeah, yeah." Kirk smiled, planting a kiss on Ross' temple as they approached the side door of the theater. "I'll try to get down to see you if Chandler gives us a break."

"And vice versa if my boss lets me take time off to breathe."

Chuckling, Kirk swatted his ass. "That should be no problem at all---boss."

Ross returned the swat with one of his own as he opened the door, stopping long enough to kiss Kirk quickly before they headed off in separate directions.

I could a tale unfold - 7

"Just over two weeks and counting before tech and dress rehearsals." Kirk stretched, and then bent to touch his toes, giving Ross an excellent view of one of his favorite parts of his lover's anatomy. Kirk straightened, turning to grin at Ross. "Mind out of the gutter there young man."

Ross laughed hard. "It's a pretty damned sexy gutter you know."

With a roll of his green eyes, Kirk said, "Be that as it may, let's finish getting dressed. We've got a long day ahead of us and I'd feel better with some decent food in my stomach."

Half an hour later, dressed casually in jeans and T-necks, the two men were sitting in their favorite diner, perusing the menu. When Kirk decided on a double order of pancakes and sausage, Ross frowned. "You do want to be able to fit into you doublets, right?" he muttered.

"Yes, father." Kirk sighed, cutting the order in half when the waitress arrived. "Not like I wouldn't have worked it off," he grumbled when she'd left.

"I know, but"—Ross reached over to pat Kirk's stomach. "So, anyway, what's on your schedule today?"

Kirk gave a groan. "A full run-through without scripts in hand."

"You'll do just fine if last night was any indication. You've got ninety percent of it down cold."

"The words, yeah. Now I have to work on the emotions behind them."

Ross nodded. "That's the hard part, and the reason I'm glad I didn't take up acting. Well, other than having a major case of stage fright."

"That still surprised me, considering how well you get along in large groups. You're much more personable than me in that way."

"If you wouldn't glower so much."

Kirk frowned. "I don't 'glower'."

"Yeah you do. You sort of close down and—glower when there are more than a few people around you in social situations."

"Nope, don't glower." Kirk shook his head in denial. "I just listen hard."

"Alright, I'll take your word for that," Ross replied with a laugh, muttering 'glower' under his breath.

"You are so asking for it, buster."

Ross was saved from making the obvious retort to that by the arrival of the waitress with their food.