I looked at Aaron and signed, [The mouse gets the cheese at midnight.]
Aaron nodded. [Stop acting like this is James Bond.]
“A week, sir.”
“Good. Why was he visiting?”
[It’s not James Bond. It’sSpies Like Us,] I signed to him.
[You are a bag of dicks, and I’ll get you for making me have to hold in a laugh.] Aaron’s eyes were lit with humor.
[It’s a dickfer.]
[What’s a dickfer?] Aaron looked very confused.
[To pee with.]
He couldn’t stop the laugh that time. [O M G, you totally had to play into yourSpies Like Us.]
I turned back to the guard, still laughing. “He was there to consult with a school that was implementing his new learning system for deaf youth.”
The guard looked between us. “Final destination?”
[God I hated that movie,] I signed to Aaron.
[I still can’t ride behind a log truck.]
“Ggansk.” I gave him one more gracious smile.
He flapped the passport closed. “You’re clear.” He shoved it back into Aaron’s hand who took it gratefully and grinned. Tipping his head, he walked into the train station with me.
[Meet by the platform in five minutes,] I signed.
[Got it. Have to pee anyway.] Aaron wandered off in search of the bathrooms while I located the train platform and headed straight for it.
It had been a happy accident when we both discovered we knew basic contact ASL after a deaf woman had been at one of our concerts. She had fawned all over Aaron, because she could feel the drums best, but she was also all about Rand for his thrumming bass.
I was on the platform for just a few minutes when someone—a quick glance told me it was Aaron—sat behind me.
“Everything work out in there?” I teased.
He coughed. “If I had a few more minutes I might have taken care of the giant case of blue balls I’ve had since about, oh…nine last night.”
I grunted. My own weren’t doing so hot either. I shoved down the sudden urge to be very, very naked with Aaron. Now was not the time or place to get horny or hard.
The train hissed and the doors opened, ready to start boarding. We didn’t have assigned seats on this one, so we rolled our cases on and found two seats next to each other midway down the car.
When the car started to move ten minutes later, Aaron snuck his hand into mine, and pulled it on to his knee. It felt nice, right, and I didn’t try to dissuade him. I knew he was a nervous wreck, and I was trying not to show how much of a twisted anxious mess I was.
Robot Servant might never be able to play in Russia again. Not whilethat guywas in the big chair. I had kissed Aaron on stage. No matter what else happened after, even if they never discovered the ruse we used to get the women out of jail and out of the country, I had publicly kissed a man on stage in front of tens of thousands of people and cameras.
I didn’t want to do that to our fans. But I also wasn’t going to risk our lives, our drummer’s life, for the gain of three or four shows. We weren’t starving artists at all.
“You okay?” Aaron asked quietly.
“Just thinking,” I answered.
“I know.” There was a smile on his face. “About what?”
