He crushed out his last cigarette beneath the heel of his boot and grimaced at the feel of the grit rubbing the skin of his foot. In this country there was no avoiding that particular phenomenon, uncomfortable as it was. He was hot and grimy. Sand and dirt seemed to have corkscrewed its way between every fold of his cammies and it had been days since he'd been able to take more than a cursory shower. His hair was more dirt than blonde and his head itched like the skin under his eight day old growth of beard.

   And, Christ, he was tired.

   There was nothing like the exhaustion that met him at the end of any mission. His team worked their asses off every single time they were called upon, even though in this sandbox part of the world it sometimes seemed pointless.  They were dedicated and expertly trained, though, and put everything they had into their life's work. But it was more than work - much more. It was their life, who they were. Brothers and sisters in arms, what they did defined them - put the blood in their veins and the breath in their lungs. They were soldiers. As team leader, Justin gave orders and followed orders and hoped and prayed that he made the right calls. That they would all see another daybreak and make it home to hear their children's laughter, inhale the comfort of their mothers' scent, feel their lovers' skin one more time.   

   At day break they would head out to do just that. Somehow this part of any deployment was the one that scared him the most. He never slept on this last night of a mission, always conscious of the very real possibility that this last few hours could be his last few hours. That some local with a lucky aim or some poor unlucky twelve-year old with a bomb strapped to his chest would accomplish what trained forces hadn't been able to.

   He lit another cigarette, rubbed a little of the sand from his face and thought of home.

::

   Gus fidgeted and Brian scowled. They'd been sitting in the family waiting area at Ft. Campbell for over two hours, waiting for word that the buses bringing home loved ones were arriving. The air conditioning, if that's even what it could be called, was straining to cool the auditorium-like room and its failure did nothing to ease the nervous excitement that rolled through the room like a tidal wave.

   Everyone's nerves were stretched thin.

   Mother's struggled with infants who were nowhere near happy with their upended schedules and tried to mollify older kids whose energy levels were on high alert, an unfortunate byproduct of the cookies and candies that had originally been intended to placate them.  

   Brian looked around the room, not at all surprised at the predominance of women. A few men - fathers and brothers, most likely - but for the most part the adults waiting for the returning troops were women. Wives and mothers. The keepers of hearth and home. A wide-ranging assortment of Penelopes awaiting a returning Odysseus, as Justin had once referred to them.

   This was the first time he'd actually been able to be present on base for Justin's return from a mission and he felt uncharacteristically uncomfortable. It wasn't the waiting, although god knows that was uncomfortable enough, but the brave new world-ness of it. It had been less than two years since the repeal of Don't Ask/Don't Tell and more than a remnant of discomfort with openly gay soldiers remained. Yet here he was, waiting for his male partner with all the other spouses - waiting to hold him again and feel his heartbeat, see his outrageous smile. Kiss him again. Assure himself that Justin was indeed alive and whole. He knew it would raise some eyebrows, perhaps even some blood pressures. That pissed him off and made him proud at the same time.

   They had discussed it, exactly what the protocol should be for them when this occasion arose. No over-the-top displays. No groping of the magnificent ass. No throwing Justin down on the floor and fucking the shit out of him in public. Brian chuckled to himself, remembering the repeated ‘demonstrations' of all the ‘cannot' behaviors. But, by god, he was going to kiss the hell out of the man! Eyebrows and blood pressures be damned.

   "Dad?"

   Brian looked over at his son. It still stunned him, this sense of rightness that reverberated through him when he thought of being a father. It still surprised him when he realized just how much his son loved him. Respected him. And how much he loved his son. It had taken some time, but little by little he had buried the haunting specter of his own childhood, had learned to accept and proudly wear the mantle of fatherhood. It was one of a small handful of things that had been worth growing up for.

   The boy was unarguably beautiful and as cocky as his father had been at that age. At almost thirteen, Gus was struggling to act like the man he wanted his father to see him as, but he was still so much of a child. He had, for the most part, behaved himself admirably during this seemingly endless wait, although sitting still for a boy his age was never an easy thing. Brian couldn't have been prouder of the young man.

   "Gus?" His son had recently taken much offense to the nickname of ‘Sonnyboy', and Brian did his best to avoid it. Broke his heart a little to know his son was growing up so damned fast.

   "They just made an announcement. The buses are coming in." The grin on Gus' face could almost rival Justin's.

   Brian hugged his young son and stood quickly. He had been so caught up in his thoughts about Justin's return that he'd completely missed the announcement and increased activity in the large room. Children were jumping up and down, women were straightening their clothing and combing their hair, banners were being unfurled and welcome signs were being hoisted. His own chest was pounding a mile a minute.

   Their soldiers were coming home.

::  

   He felt the slight jerk and heard the hiss of the hydraulics as the bus pulled to a full stop in front of the expo style building that served as community center at Ft. Campbell. It hadn't been a long ride from the airport, but it was a fairly silent one. The quiet following the seemingly incessant waiting to board, as well as the rhythmic hum of tires on tarmac, had lulled him into a light slumber. It was a complacency he didn't often let himself fall victim too while he was in uniform. But he'd been through this routine more times than he cared to admit over the short span of his career and it always had an aura of home about it. As he hitched his ruck to his shoulder, he couldn't help but glance out the shaded window to his right. Couldn't help noticing the sea of indistinct faces - the wives/lovers/families waiting impatiently beyond the cordon for a glimpse of their loved one. Couldn't help the automatic frisson of sadness that ran through him as he recalled the returns when none of those faces were searching for him.

   This had always been a bittersweet moment for Justin emotionally, this coming home. On a couple of occasions, of course, his mom had been able to greet him as he got off the bus, but Ft. Campbell was quite a distance from Pittsburgh and she wasn't often able to make it. For the most part his return was always a pretty solitary experience. This time... this time it would be different. This time Brian would be meeting him, and his gut churned a little from the excitement. Shit. Here he was - a nearly thirty year old Army officer getting fucking butterflies! Yet he couldn't stop the grin that grew wide across his face when he stepped onto the concrete, or the urge to quicken his pace just a bit as the sea of faces became less indistinct, as he homed in on the tall, lithe figure looking so awkward in the mass of bodies now just a few feet away, waiting to see an answering smile flickering in what Justin knew were the most amazing hazel eyes.

   Now he was finally feeling home.

::

   God. Over six months.

   It had been over six months since Brian had last seen Justin. Six months of worry and loneliness and fucking fear. Yeah, there had been the occasional email and phone call, but, hindered by military regulations and an unfortunate lack of privacy, those infrequent encounters had been... sanitized to a great degree. It had been difficult. When Justin had stepped off the bus, Brian realized just exactly how much of an understatement the concept of difficult was.

   He'd stood shivering under the overhang at his own front door six months ago watching the fading taillights of Jennifer Taylor's Prius retreating down the long driveway. His body felt so goddamned empty, his soul felt a fatigue he knew wouldn't fade until Justin returned. "I'm gonna be gone for a while, stud," Justin had reasoned. "I don't want the image in my head of you blending into the masses at some impersonal airport. I want to see you here, in this doorway, this house... your bed head, your wife beater... home. I want to be able to kiss you goodbye the way we still can't in public." They both knew, even with the repeal of DA/DT, that PDA's between two men were still frowned upon heavily by many. Prejudice doesn't disappear with the stroke of a presidential pen.

   So Brian watched Justin leave from the safety of his own front portico.

   Justin had been on a couple of short missions during their time together. The nature of his particular job in the Special Forces tended to make his deployments short term. The fear was always there, of course. Fear that he would be injured - or worse. This hadn't been a rescue mission, however. This time, the powers-that-be had needed the particular grasp of language and the culture that Justin's team possessed, needed them to act the intermediary between the opposed cultures in this period of social reconstruction. Justin's talents, particularly, made him a rare commodity, and made the deployment time much longer. The supposedly peaceful purpose of the mission didn't lessen Brian's anxiety, however. Regardless of the political hype of cultural conciliation and the media bullshit of lessening animosity, Afghanistan was still a war zone.

   And people died in war zones.

   Yeah. Difficult was really an understatement.

   "Dad! There he is!" Gus' excitement almost matched his father's.

   Like his father, Gus wasn't often given to displays of this kind of excitement. Like his father, he was a bit of a brooding figure, with a hefty portion of early teen angst added into the mix. On the day over a year ago when he'd been introduced to Cpt. Taylor, he'd taken an instant dislike to the man. Since his mothers had picked up the family and relocated them to Toronto, Gus didn't get to see as much of his dad as he thought he should, and the only thing Justin Taylor represented in the boy's young life was theft. This was someone who would steal away the few precious bits of time he was allotted to spend with hisdad.  Gus considered the visits with his father to be his.  He certainly hadn't wanted to share one with some discipline-heavy soldier on an army base.

   His dad had told him about this stranger and his moms had tried to fill in as much as they knew, but all Gus heard, through that filter of absolutism that so often accompanies one his age, was that his dad didn't need him anymore. The first meeting started out stressful, to say the least.

   Now, over a year later, he couldn't think of anyone, other than his father, that he respected as much.

   Gus grinned, watching his dad's eyes grow brighter, and knew they were tearing up. He looked back toward the parking lot where he saw the now familiar smile hurrying toward them. Yeah. He liked Cap. And Cap loved his dad.

   It was all good.

::

   Brian hadn't really slept much at all, and he groaned as he watched the light diffuse through the heavy draperies covering Justin's bedroom windows. He still thought of this as ‘Justin's place', even though it now carried bits and pieces of him as well. He'd spent more than a few nights here since Justin's amazing speech in the Liberty Diner almost two years ago. That stunning public statement, Cpt. Justin Taylor in full dress uniform proudly declaring his love for him, marked the day Brian Kinney began to actually live.

   The disappointment Brian had felt later, when it struck him that he and Justin wouldn't actually be living together, or even in close proximity to each other, had somehow taken him by surprise. Of course it shouldn't have. They'd both known it. Brian had Kinnetik in Pittsburgh and Justin had his military career based in Tennessee, so moving wasn't really an option for either one of them at the time. They made do with the phone and the internet and Brian racked up a plethora of frequent flier miles, heading out for Tennessee as often as he could. But a weekend here and there just didn't do it for them, giving them just enough time to whip their appetites for each other up into a frenzy and then having the cold water of Sunday night poured on top of it. This time, however, Justin's unit had scheduled two weeks' leave coinciding with their return to the States. It wasn't enough - never enough, he thought as he felt Justin's toned arms wrap him more tightly - but after six months' separation it was something.

   Thank fucking god.

  "Did I say ‘welcome home, soldier'?"

  Brian could feel Justin's smile as it met the skin of his chest, felt it turn into kisses trailing up his neck, his jaw, resting on his lips.  

   "I think you actually said it several times, Mr. Kinney. And the Army thanks you for your enthusiastic... and creative... support."

   Brian kissed the too-short hair on Justin's blond head and thought about exactly how he had welcomed home his soldier during the night. He tried so hard to forget missing Justin during their times apart, but it was a for shit endeavor. He missed every single thing about the man - the eyes, the intellect, the wit, the surprising softness of his skin and the work-toned tightness of his muscles. He missed the welcoming heat of his lips and the almost spiritual connection they shared when their bodies came together. God, he fucking loved this man.

   And now he was home. Brian knew, as he nuzzled his chin against the sensitive skin of Justin's shoulder, that he intended to savor every moment.

   "Yeah, well... you know me. Always willing to go that extra mile, make our boys in uniform feel appreciated."

   Justin chuckled and lightly bit at Brian's jaw. "You know, this conversation is so very irreverent on so many levels. But, in light of the selfless donation of your time and... talents," he said as he ran his hand down the length of Brian's body, "...and your obvious... patriotism... I'll let it go this time."

   "Shit!" Brian's breath hitched and he groaned from the attentions of Justin's talented fingers expertly gripping his cock. God, he had missed this feeling, this intensity... this man. "Don't... don't you fucking dare let it go, Captain."

   Justin laughed lightly and continued on with his work. He never disobeyed a direct order.

::

   Justin had never let himself think of being a father. His career choices had seemed to preclude that particular joy. He stillwasn't a father technically, but having Gus in his life was closer than he'd ever imagined he'd be. And he was still floored by the strength of his current attachment to Brian's son.

   The week he'd spent meeting the young man for the first - well actually, second time produced some totally expected angst, but became one of those stories that would be told again and again, lovingly embarrassing all concerned. Gus had stubbed up, sneered and stomped off so many times during the first few days of that vacation that Brian was ready to pack him up and send him back to his mothers on the first available bus. Justin had suggested that they redirect his energies instead, that perhaps they take a trip to the riding stables off-base. What eleven year-old boy could resist the draw of a saddle? Justin breathed a sigh of relief when it appeared to work and Gus laughed for the first time that week. A subsequent trip to the archery range, the arcade and a few surreptitious laughs at Brian's expense over late-night pizza - heavy on the cheese, please, Cap - and Gus was a believer.

   Over the following months, Gus and Justin texted and emailed, skyped and called each other. It worked and the two forged a bond that would last over the remainder of their lives. When Justin told him that he was once again being deployed, this time for six months or more, Gus quietly cried himself to sleep. And worried about his dad.

::

   "Mornin' dad."

   Brian glanced at his son eating a bagel at the breakfast bar, guessing that the boy had been up for some time. He smirked at the green beret perched on his head and the camouflage jacket that hung loosely from his slim shoulders.

   "Run off and join the Army while I was sleeping, son?" Brian squeezed the young man's shoulder as he reached for a cup of coffee. "If so, I suggest they contract with a different tailor."

   "Dad," Gus blushed out. "I just wanted to try it on. Cap won't mind," he quipped around a bite of the bagel. The added hesitantly, "Will he?"

   Brian chuckled. "No, son, I don't think your Cap will mind you wearing his uniform. You kinda have him wrapped."

   Gus' grin widened. "Yeah."

    Justin cleared his throat from the doorway and Gus immediately straightened his posture. One of the things he admired about Cap was the way he held himself, made himself appear taller than he was somehow, even in his bare feet. Justin smiled at the instinctive reaction of the boy. "At ease, soldier," he said. Then, "Oh, god. You made coffee!"

   "Yep. I make it for the moms all the time. Don't know how you drink that sh... um... stuff."

   Brian glared at his son. "This sh...um... stuff is the liquid of life, Gus. Never forget that."

   Justin leaned back against the breakfast bar sipping the hot coffee but drinking in the obvious love and friendship between the two Kinney men. Brian put Gus at ease in the relationship with his open love for the boy, and Gus gave Brian the opportunity to be the father he never thought he'd be. The good one. The one Justin had known Brian could be on that very first night so many years ago. He was so desperately happy that he knew them both. That he loved them both, and that they would all be together for a while.

   "Okay, Kinneys. Time to get this show on the road," Justin barked out in his best commanding tone. "We only have two weeks. Let's make the most of every minute."

   "Already packed and loaded, Cap. I'm just waiting for you two slackers to catch up. I know you didn't sleep much last night." Gus grinned sheepishly. "Must have been all that liquid of life you drank."

   Justin blushed hotly and groaned with embarrassment. Brian smirked and shook his head at his precocious kid. Yes, the boy was indeed his father's son.

   "I'll have you know, young man, I was merely... debriefing the good captain on the details of his latest mission," he said, his tongue firmly planted in his cheek. "And since you seem to be so eager this morning, you can load the rest of the stuff into the trunk. You'll find it neatly stacked by the bedroom door."

   Gus sighed dramatically, acting every inch the put-upon child. But the bags were loaded in record time.

    "Are you sure you want to do this, Sunshine?" Brian asked quietly. "You honestly want to spend your leave out in the wilds of America?"

   "Kentucky isn't exactly the outback, Brian. We'll be in a cabin." Justin laughed. Brian frowned.

   "Yeah, it's that cabin part that bothers me."

   "At least we'll have our own bedroom," Justin whispered. "With a Jacuzzi tub."

   Brian slowly grinned.

   Okay. He could handle that.

::

   The cabin wasn't quite what Brian expected. A bit rustic, Justin had told him. Right. The images those words placed in Brian's head - of dusty deer heads jutting out perilously above crumbling fireplace rock, of corn-shuck filled ticking adorning whip-stitch rigged beds, of pails of water pulled from backyard wells - had made him all but want to cancel this little woodland adventure. And here they were standing at the edge of a long, circular drive in front of a beautifully crafted pine wood house, an upper wood deck leaning out over one of the most panoramic views of wild-water he'd ever seen. Not a cabin. Not a bit rustic. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

   "Wow..." That was all Gus could say as he turned in a circle, taking in the view.

   "Um... Sunshine...," Brian began. "Exactly what is your definition of rustic?"

   Justin grinned, then laughed outright. "Yeah. I... um... stretched it just a bit."

   "A bit? Damn, kid, I think we need to work on your tendency toward hyperbole." Brian's eyes drifted over the open expanse of the yard.  Tall, straight trunks of white pine, walnut and beech trees framed the large mossy clearing, in the middle of which sat a hand-dug fire-pit. Around the pit had been placed hewn tree trunks, rubbed and sanded to a glassy smooth finish, and held in place as benches by lichen covered wood slats.

   The ‘cabin' itself was a tri-level house built into the side of a mountain, and sported floor to ceiling windows and wrap around decking. The mid-July sun filtered through the green branches of the trees, striping the beautiful structure with layers of golden light. Brian shook his head as he looked at Justin's guilty expression and smiled as he watched the grin on his son's face grow with every passing moment.

   Yeah. He could get used to this roughing it shit.

::

   "Col. Trent and his wife did a great job on the place," Justin began to explain as he and Brian shared a glass of wine on the lower level porch, watching the moon shimmering in the water of the Cumberland River. Gus had unhappily retired to his bed a couple of hours ago. Now the two men sat together, listening to the songs of crickets and frogs whispering softly on the slight breeze, and in the distance they could hear the roar of the wild river rushing over the falls. It was a soothing moment.

   "When I first met the colonel... after dad shipped me off to military school... I was a mess. Belligerent and angry. Oppositional. I hated everyone and everything and I was on the edge of losing myself altogether." Justin stared into the night as he spoke. "I'd just been outed - just met you. I'd lost my family, as far as I knew, and felt like I had been plopped down into some kind of fascist hellhole."

   Brian sighed as he silently listened to Justin's words, knowing that he held a great deal of responsibility for the young man being shipped off to that fucking military academy. He'd been a selfish, self-centered asshole. Used the kid that Justin had been and then dumped him in front of his high school without a second thought. Justin's life had forever been changed because of that callousness. As had his own life. He'd never been able to completely forget the beautiful young man he'd met that night - had often wistfully imagined him growing up, becoming a man, an artist. When he saw him again so any years later, he'd been stunned to see that life had an entirely different plan for Justin Taylor.

   "Dad wouldn't even let me come home on holidays the first year," Justin continued. "So Col. Trent and his wife kind of adopted me. He spent more one-on-one time with me those first few months than my dad did my entire life, I think. Talked me off the proverbial cliff a couple of times, gave me focus and direction. Brought me here after he and his wife bought this land. I was with them when they cleared out the first trees."

   "I still want to meet this father figure of yours," Brian pulled Justin a bit closer on the glider. Held him just a bit tighter. "I have a lot to thank him for."

   Justin chuckled. "Glad you said that. He'll be here the end of the week."

   "Great," Brian groaned. "I suppose that means we'll have to fuck quietly then?"

   "Yeah. I suppose it does. But... as loud as we can get, I think we'd better practice." He crawled up and straddled Brian's lap for emphasis. "Repeatedly."

   "You think so, huh?"

   "Oh, yeah."

::

   The first few days and nights flew by.  The first days of getting settled in - highlighted by scouting out the hillside and river's edge, fishing off the dock Col. Trent had built over the river, and long talks at twilight around the fire-pit - gave Justin time to decompress from his recent deployment. He sat and watched the interaction between Brian and his son, marveling at their similarities and laughing at their very distinct differences.

   Gus, in the fashion of most twelve-year-olds, was ready for any adventure and was already liberally doused with calamine lotion for his various rashes and bites. He didn't seem to care that much, but quickly learned to avoid certain three-leaved plants.

   Brian, however, was a city boy. Born and bred. It was taking him some time to acclimate himself to the great outdoors, with its abundance of insects and deciduous humidity. It would have been absolutely fine with him if they never left the ‘cabin' at all, preferring the pool table and air conditioning to the pools of water and occasionally wafting breezes. But as he watched the unbridled joy on the faces of his son and his partner as they hiked and swam and fished and generally absorbed their surroundings, he gave in without much argument. And he wondered what the hell had become of Brian Kinney.

   On Friday they had made a day of white-water rafting on the river.

   "God, dad! Today was awesome! Especially when we flipped the kayak on that snake turn!"

   Justin rubbed Brian's shoulders when he saw the horrified look on Brian's face as he recalled that particular moment. "Shit, Gus, we could have all died out there! One minute we were on the fucking raft and the next we... well, we weren't."

   "We all had on vests and helmets, Brian. We could have drifted apart, yeah, but the guides are trained to handle that kind of situation. Happens all the time." Secretly, he had been scared to death for both Brian and Gus when the kayak upended in the turbulent water, but he'd been through it a few times. He knew fear was the biggest enemy, and was himself trained in water rescue. Gus had handled it like a pro, following the instructions he had been given at the beginning of the trip. Brian, on the other hand... Well, he struggled. Just a bit. Now, as they sat watching the sun set over the water, safely settled beside the great room windows, he knew Brian was reliving it all over again - the fear for his son especially. And it filled Justin with a warmth he couldn't quite define, this protective father side of Brian. He reached over and brushed a lock of hair from the man's forehead and cupped his cheek gently.

   "Okay," he said finally, with a light laugh, "No more extreme sports for the Kinney men."   

::

   Justin's shadow played on the floor behind him as the first rays of sunlight drifted through the tall glass windows. He'd been standing there for some time watching the dawn break. He didn't know how long. Couldn't sleep in. Again. It was difficult adjusting to being his own man after so many months of deployment. Everything had been decided for him, every move, meal and memory seemingly choreographed by someone of higher rank. As an officer, he followed the rules, and that willingly. He believed in what he did, what his commission and his country stood for.  But sometimes, when he came home, it was a difficult adjustment.

   Right now he just wanted to be sleeping in with Brian, luxuriating in the feel of that long, lean body so docile next to his. But his internal clock had other ideas, and that pissed him off a bit. If he was on leave at home in Clarksville, he would be out on his run right now. Or hitting the gym or the dojo or the pool to kick start his day. But this place, with its inherent serenity, demanded he relax his body and mind. If only he could get his head to agree.

   Justin took another long drink of his coffee, breathing in the richness of the blend - Brian's blend - and pondered the arrival of Col. Trent later this morning. He hadn't seen the man who had been so instrumental in his life for several months, and he was eagerly looking forward to his arrival. But there was a part of him that was anxious about the reunion. Yeah, the colonel knew Justin was gay, had known from the outset and was always understanding.

   You have to be who you were meant to be, Cadet. But you also have to be smart about it.

   Justin was fully aware that knowing and knowing could be two entirely different things. Would his mentor understand when he knew? When the evidence was a walking, breathing partner, complete with son? Col. Trent was from the old guard. Now retired, he was not an active part of the ‘new' Army, with its somewhat relaxed regulations on gays serving openly. Would he be judged? Or accepted.

   Justin stiffened slightly and then relaxed into the long arms suddenly encircling him from behind, into the sleep warmed scent of his homecoming. Regardless of Col. Trent's reaction, he knew he was right. Being here with Brian. He smiled at the reflection that met him in the glass panes - Brian's chin resting on blond hair, tightly wrapped arms melding two bodies into one, two pairs of eyes staring out into the world. Together.

   This was right.

::

   Brian had just finished loading the dishwasher with the breakfast dishes when he heard the distinct slam of a car door. He quirked one brow when he saw a small grin cross Justin's face. He'd expected it to be a bit bigger.

   "Sounds like your father figure has arrived."

   "Yeah. A little earlier than I'd anticipated," Justin said, a bit hesitantly. "C'mon. Let's go welcome the conquering homeowner."

   "Who's here, Dad?" Gus had been occupying himself with one of his video games. He'd help make breakfast. It was up to his dad to do cleanup duty.

   "One of Cap's old teachers - an old friend," Brian replied as he pretended a stranglehold on his son. "And you, young man, remember your manners."

   "Gee, Dad, I'm not five."

   "No. No, you're not." Brian felt a pang when he thought about just how grown up his son was becoming. "C'mon, son."

   The first thing one noticed about Col. Jasper Trent was his size. He wasn't quite as tall as Brian - maybe six feet - but he gave the impression of being much taller. His wide shoulders and trim waist created an imposing air about the man that demanded respect and decorum. He wore dark chinos and a button down blue shirt, sleeves rolled up meticulously to the middle of his forearms. His gray hair was cut in an old style flat top, a throwback, Brian was certain, to his many years in the military. And he was ramrod straight.

   "Welcome home, Colonel." Justin spoke with an obvious air of respect in his voice, his posture straight and deferential.

   "Cap. Taylor," Col. Trent's voice boomed out. "I think I should be welcoming you home. It's only been what? A week? You've still got sand in your boots!" 

   "Eight days, sir, and I did my best to leave the sand behind. Had enough of that for a while."

   "Yeah, s'pose you did, at that," Col. Trent replied, his voice noticeably softer. "Glad to see you made it home in one piece, son." He reached out and drew the younger, smaller man to him in a tight hug.

   "Thank you, sir. That makes two of us." Justin hugged the man back. The colonel had played the part of superior officer, father, mentor, teacher, friend... so many roles over the years they had known each other. Underlying them all was the deep and abiding respect strong soldiers held for one another.

   As they separated, Justin turned and motioned to the two people standing in the middle of the great room. "Col. Trent, I'd like to introduce you to my partner, Brian Kinney, and his son, Gus. Brian, Gus... this is Col. Trent. One of the finest soldiers - finest men - I've had the pleasure of knowing."

   "It's a pleasure meeting you, Colonel. I've heard many good things about you and what you've done for Justin. Thank you." Brian was sincerely honored to finally meet the man he'd heard so much about over the past two years. He'd made a strong impact on Justin's life.

   "Good to meet you, sir," Gus said simply.

   "The pleasure is all mine, Brian. And it appears you're raising a fine son!"

   "Thank you, sir, but he has his moments," Brian laughed out.

   "Don't we all, son. Don't we all." The colonel tightly gripped Brian's hand and smiled. There was a mischievous sparkle in his blue eyes. It would be okay.

::

   They stood on the floating dock looking out over the swift river. Justin had stayed behind, he and Gus tending to the trout and potatoes on the grill. Brian knew the colonel wanted to talk with him. Alone.

   "This is as peaceful a place as I've found on earth, Brian Kinney." For some reason, Col. Trent preferred to use Brian's full name when addressing him. Coming from another, it would have sounded condescending or trivializing. Coming from the colonel, it sounded almost warm.

   "I can't dispute that, sir."

   "Georgia and I were out on a drive when we stumbled across this little piece of land. Not long before I met young Justin Taylor." He pulled a cigarette from the pack in his breast pocket, offering one to Brian, who simply nodded his thanks, then lit them both. He drew the smoke deeply into his lungs and let it out with a loud exhale. "I was never blessed with a son. Oh, I love my girls dearly, but I won't lie... I'd hoped at least one of those four would have a Y chromosome," he chuckled. "When I retired from active duty and began teaching at the academy, I think part of the attraction was being around all that young testosterone, being able to help form those boys into strong young men. Hopefully into strong young officers. Most of them were trouble makers from the get-go. Angry. Prideful. A bit broken."

   Brian listened quietly, wondering where the other man was headed with his story. He leaned on one of the dock posts and crossed his arms on his chest as the colonel continued.

   "When I met young Taylor, he didn't seem all that different at first. But he was. Most of the boys were there for some infraction they'd pulled or some belligerence that their parents wanted disciplined out of ‘em. Taylor? Well, I soon found out he was different. He was a stellar student but isolated himself from everyone. Fragile in appearance and haunted in his demeanor. Still and all, he was always showing up with some bruise or injury. I soon figured out he was being dumped on by some of the other boys. Quite proud, that young man. Never said a word."

   "That he is, sir. That he is."

   "When I found out that his family had literally abandoned him to the academy, we took him under our wing. Georgia and I. In a way, he became the son I'd never had. Bright, talented, quick-witted...  I... fear I pushed him more than perhaps I should have. Toward the military. But I saw him drowning, struggling for a lifeline. I gave him the only one I knew."

   The colonel paused for a moment, straightening his spine and letting his eyes wander over the sunny expanse of water and rocky river's edge.

   "Col. Trent..."

   "I guess, what I'm saying..." the colonel continued as if Brian hadn't spoken, "...is that this is a difficult life for a spouse, Brian Kinney. The divorce and separation rate for the military is higher than in the public sector. Long and frequent separations. Commitment to duty that often takes one away from family even when not deployed... I... love that young man and I respect him. I want him to have a full life." He turned and stared deeply into Brian's eyes. Searching... "You understand what I'm saying?"

   "Yes, sir. I believe I do." Brian stood in awe of this man. This military officer, giving him the ‘father' talk. Something that Justin's own father damned well would never have done. Telling him at once that they had his blessing, that Brian needed to prepare himself for a difficult journey and, by god, he'd better not hurt Justin along the way. There'd be hell to pay if that happened.

   "I can't guarantee that we won't have... issues, Colonel," Brian said as he met the man's stare. "But I can guarantee that he'll know I love him."

   Col. Trent held Brian's gaze for a long few moments, then nodded. "That's all a man can ask." Brian nodded his agreement. "Now, let's get back before those men up there eat our food."

   Brian held back for a few seconds, processing the colonel's words as he walked toward the house. He held his face up to the sun and felt the deep July heat on his skin, and the deep peace of family in his soul. And he started to understand why Justin felt such respect for, such kinship with one Col. Jasper Trent.

::

   "Why isn't Mrs. Trent with you, Colonel?" Justin was fond of Georgia Trent. No. Much more than fond. That word didn't begin to cover the range of feelings he had for the chubby powerhouse of a woman he'd met so long ago. Like his own mother, Georgia Trent was independent, bright, funny and successful in her own right as a pediatric nurse. On more than one occasion she'd tended to his broken and bruised skin with those strong, informed hands. She'd dealt with the bullshit that goes with being an Army wife with tact and surety, letting her husband do his job to the best of his ability, keeping the family together with her strong personality. She managed and thrived, knowing that when her husband came home she would again have to step aside as the sole parent and reintegrate them all into the family unit again. It wasn't an easy task, he knew. But they had worked at it for more than forty years.

   "She's spending some time with Lisa and her brood. Georgia's not... been well of late."    There was a resignation present in the colonel's words, one that didn't fit what Justin knew of the man. At all. He was a man of action who took the world by the balls and made it his own. To hear him talk of his beloved wife with an air of... futility... well, that just didn't fit.

   "Sir? She's going to be... okay?" Justin knew before he voiced the question that the answer wouldn't be a positive one. The look on his mentor's face told him nearly everything.

   "Alzheimer's," he responded, brokenly. "Found out a couple of months ago."

   There were no words. None. Just the hateful silence of understanding hanging between the two men sitting beside the fire-pit, surrounded by the lush forest of the Kentucky mountains, the sound of rushing water the only break in the quiet night. Even the birds and insects seemed to understand the impact of this moment.

   "This was all for her, you know," the colonel motioned around him to the house and the clearing. "This mountain retreat. Built it the way she wanted. Built it where she wanted. So we could share the rest of our lives here." The older man's voice was brittle, broken. "Christ knows she put up with enough of my bullshit over the years. Being so strong. So... Georgia."

   "I'm so sorry, sir. So very sorry."

   "Me too, son. For her future. Only for that." He took a long drink for the beer he held. "Never for what we had. It's been an amazing journey with that spitfire woman. One no man is good enough to deserve. Now... it's my turn to repay the favor."

   Justin simply nodded his agreement. What the fuck could he say at a moment like this? He wanted to rant to a god who would slowly steal the very soul of a woman like Georgia Trent! But he couldn't. They'd both seen too much, been through too much to think that platitudes or soothing words would make the other feel better. That's not what his friend needed. He simply sighed and pulled a long drink from his own beer. His friend just needed him to be here. To silently remember with him who the real Georgia Ann Trent was, who she would always be to them.

::

   Gus was beside himself with excitement. He'd been bugging his dad and Cap to see the falls since he'd heard about them. And finally, today, they were going. He loved the water. The power and sound and smell of it. Guess he must have been a river-boat captain in another life, he thought. He'd looked up the Cumberland Falls on the internet - they called it the ‘Niagara of the South' due to its size and the amount of water that tumbled over it every day. And he couldn't wait!

   They hadn't been idle at all this week, so Gus hadn't been bored. They'd fished and waded in the river here at the ‘cabin', they'd gone white-water rafting, had even toured a ghost mining town called Blue Heron after a trip on the Big South Fork train. It was all good. But he wanted to see the falls. And now he would.

   "Get a move on soldier," came a gruff voice from behind. The colonel. He wasn't sure what to make of him at first, all military and formal when they'd met. But the guy was cool. Told Gus about the birds and the trees, about his days overseas while in the Army, even showed him how to lash together logs to make benches like the ones around the fire-pit. Yeah, he was cool. Kind of grandfather-ish, he guessed. And Cap liked him, so that was a plus.

   "Yes, sir!" Gus replied and grabbed his backpack.

   They spent the day at the park where the falls were located, hiking and picnicking and just bumming around. Late into the night the men sat around the blanket beside a sleeping almost-teen who had conked out a while ago. Tomorrow they'd all head back out - the colonel to his wife who was visiting their daughter in Galveston, and Brian, Justin and Gus, back to Clarksville. Brian was going to spend more time in Tennessee with Justin, but Gus would soon be heading back to Toronto and his mothers. None of the three were happy about that.

   The mood had gotten quiet and Brian thought this was as good a time as any to bring up a subject he'd been considering.

   "I'm thinking about retiring," he said. The sudden shift in conversation from hi-jinx pulled as kids to something this serious caught both Justin and Col. Trent a bit off guard.

   "What?" Just exclaimed. "Just like that... out of the blue you're retiring?"

   "Thinking about it." Brian pulled his lips and held them between his teeth.

   The colonel just leaned back watching the interaction between the two men. No need for his input at this point.

   "Brian... shit! Your life is in that company!"

   "No. It's not. My money is in that company, and I've made enough of it to never have to work another day if I don't want to." He looked at the colonel, who had a knowing smile on his face. Then back to Justin. "My life is here. On this blanket in the middle of this park."

   "Christ, Brian," Justin sputtered. He couldn't do that. He could let Brian give up his company because of him! "You can't give up your life like that! You wouldn't ask me to do that!"

   "And you're not asking me to do it," Brian responded brusquely. "I... I just think it's time. I'll still own the company, maybe do some consulting from time to time. But... my glory days are behind me, Justin. I don't want to wake up some morning and realize that our life is behind me, too." He reached over and cupped his partner's face with both hands, his eyes twinkling. "Hey, I'll be an Army wife... just like those women on that show."   

   At that, Col. Trent roared out a laugh, which caught the attention of a few casual bystanders. "Well, I think somehow it won't be just like those women."

   Brian laughed and pulled Justin closer, kissing him lightly on the lips. "So, yeah, I won't be baking cookies for the next base social. I'll pay someone to do it for me."

   "Jesus, a new world Betty Crocker," Justin snorted and laid his head in Brian's lap. "Just... be sure, Brian. That this is what you want."

   "You're what I want, Sunshine." Brian twined his fingers with Justin's.

   At that moment Gus stirred awake and a voice from behind the colonel spoke. "We have our families here. They don't need to see this kind of display in public. Or anywhere, for that matter."

   "Excuse me?" Brian looked up into the reddened face of a slightly rumpled middle-aged man. He could feel Justin tense and sensed the same from Col. Trent.

   "This is a family place, sir. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your... behavior... appropriate. God says..." the rumpled man continued.

   "So, you speak for God, do you?"

   "Dad?" Gus had no real idea what was going on but this didn't feel right. Not at all.

   "It's okay, Gus. Just a discussion between men. Right, sir?" His eyes never left those of the other man as both he and Col. Trent stood.

   "Go back to your own family, sir," Col. Trent advised. "Leave us to ours. And read your New Testament more closely, son."

   "I know the Bible, sir."

   "Colonel."

   "Excuse me?" There was a quizzical look on the rumpled man's face.

   "Colonel. Col. Jasper Trent, U. S. Army, retired," the colonel said, his bearing every bit that of a military man. "And this," he said, indicating Justin who now stood beside him, "is Cpt. Justin Taylor, U. S. Army Special Forces."

   "And I'm Brian fucking Kinney, quickly-getting-pissed-off public citizen. Active duty." Justin couldn't help the small smirk he had at his partner's rather colorful self-introduction. But he didn't want a scene here in a public park. He placed his hand at the small of Brian's back and pressed lightly, letting him know to cool it. Just a little. At least for Gus' sake.

   Brian, however, was not letting it go quite so easily. He pointed out a young, heterosexual couple several feet over. A couple who were kissing in a quite lively manner. "Your God instruct you to chastise them, as well, Mr...?"

   "Sanders, Pastor James Sanders," the rumpled man responded. Then looking toward the colonel, he continued, "...and I know my New Testament very well, thank you."

   "Ah, I see..."

   "No. You don't see. That's the problem. You've been blinded by sin..."

   Brian snorted.

   "Mr. Sanders..." Justin began.

   "Pastor," the rumpled man corrected.

   "Sure... Pastor Sanders, unless you have some authority from a worldly sovereign power that would excuse you from interrupting our family outing, I'd suggest you leave us alone now. This is, as you are well aware, a very public park. Unless you encounter us doing something illegal, we are well within our rights to share this park with you. You, as you know, have the option to remove your family if you feel we are inhibiting their spiritual growth in any way. Please feel free to exercise that option." With that, Justin placed a hand on each of the other men and directed them to sit back down. Gus was waiting, confused, and this wasn't the place or time to act rashly.

   Surprisingly, the rumpled man turned and walked away, apparently having thought about confronting three stronger men in a public venue. He motioned for his family to gather their things and leave.

   "Sunshine?" Brian said, a bit starstruck. "That was a very conciliatory speech you just gave."

   Justin smiled his brightest. "Experience. Diplomacy is key to what I do," he said simply. "Well, that and having two larger companions."

   With a snort, Brian shoved Justin playfully.

   The colonel looked up at the sky and smiled. "Full moon and it's almost midnight. I think it's time, don't you, son?" He put his arm around Gus' shoulders and the boy nodded eagerly.

   "Yep. Let's go!"

::

   The spray off the waterfall felt amazing on skin that had been overheated by the Kentucky July sun and they all turned their faces into it. Gus was chomping at the bit to climb over the restraining rail the park service had erected years ago. A curt word from all three of the adults had put a bit of a damper on that urge, however.

   As the four men stood watching the power of the water rush over the river cliff that formed Cumberland Falls, they each felt the energy of the moment. And the magic.

   "There!" Gus shouted. "There it is!"

   Three faces turned in the direction of Gus' pointing finger and watched the moonlight refracting off the beads of water lifted into the air by the force of its fall. They watched as the light shifted and broke into pieces of colored glass and hovered, in all its prismed glory, for just a moment.

   The Moonbow.   

    "I haven't wanted to paint anything in so long, but now..." Justin's voice held a sense of awe at the unexpected rush of feelings. "This is... phenomenal. It's like an affirmation..." Brian held him close.

   And it was. A rainbow where it shouldn't be, at a time that it shouldn't exist. A rainbow in the dark of night, propelled by a lunar force that commands the tides. A phenomenon that occurs on a schedule - that's why they had chosen tonight to be here - in only two places on earth. Yeah, it happens in other places, other waterfalls, once in a while, but this... to know it can be depended upon, that it's going to return, again and again. A fucking rainbow!

   Brian thought back over the last two weeks, over the last few hours. The encounter with the homophobic Pastor Sanders had left him with a sour taste, regardless of the lighthearted way it ended. Honestly, he was surprised that they hadn't encountered more of that sentiment in this decidedly religious part of the country. But they hadn't. For the most part people had just been... well... people. Living and letting live. But the Sanders guy? Yeah, it reminded Brian that bigotry still exists, that Don't Ask/Don't Tell wasn't just an archaic idea wrought by the military. But things were shifting. Tides were turning and attitudes were changing. And here was the affirmation of that, just when he needed it. A Moonbow.

   In that moment, he'd made his final decision. He wasn't going to live another year in a shuttle relationship. He'd retire. God knows he could afford it. Being with Justin, being a real partner in a real supportive relationship was worth more than any high he could get from another presentation, another account.  His life was standing right in front of him, peering excitedly over a pipe railing into the face of the impossible.

  He felt a presence sidle up beside him and felt the calloused hand of Col. Trent on his arm.  

  "There are just some things that should never, logically, exist in this world, Brian Kinney. Good kids kicked around or tossed away for being who they are. Hate-filled Christians. Diseases that eat away at the very soul of a being.  They just don't make sense. Then again, we have the platypus. Flying fish. A midnight moonbow. Trained soldiers with soft touches and artistic souls. They make not a shit's worth of sense, either. But exist they do. And I'll deal with the bad if I can hold onto that little bit of good, and thank god for it."

   Brian looked over at the smiling faces of his son and partner, side by side on the leaf strewn concrete overlook, their skin and hair damp from the river spray, arms around each other in friendship, love.

   Yeah, some things shouldn't logically exist in the world and Brian Kinney in love was one of them. But he was, and he was going to hold onto it with every fucking thing he had.